1718 The Blackbeard File is at the proofreader and publication date is March 12! It will be available on Kindle Unlimited as is the Ripper file. Keep reading for a sneak peak of the Blackbeard file.
The sea was moody, the frothy waves slapping against the shore in an angry rhythm. Delphine stood, arms crossed across her chest, watching a sea that mirrored her mood. She had been restless as of late, not finding comfort in her normal routine of reading, helping her father with matters of state, and taking her daily dip in the sea. She had been spending more time in the water, hoping the sea would soothe the restlessness in her. It hadn’t worked.
She worried this was the result of her human blood calling out to its own kind. She had been swimming near the boats that passed close to the island, not close enough to draw the wrath of the Sirens of the rock, but within swimming distance. She had found herself wondering where they were headed and what they would do once they got there. The need for adventure seemed to sing in her blood.
Delphine moved away from the window and the moody sea, pacing her suite of rooms. The balcony she stood on jutted off the loft. She had found a wonderfully ornate four-poster bed with brass castings, a tentacle canopy, and a brass crown on a ship that had been foolish enough to heed her sisters’ song. She had chosen every piece of art nouveau décor and the soft colors usually had a calming effect on her, but recently, nothing seemed to be able to quiet her spirit.
She had discussed this with her father, the king of the Sirens. He said her human biological mother had possessed the same restless spirit. It was why he believed she had ended up on their island, washed up from a shipwreck. He believed her sense of adventure was the reason she had abandoned her husband and child to return to the world of her kind.
“One small island just couldn’t hold her,” he’d told his daughter, an old pain present in his eyes.
She had changed the subject; talk of her mother always brought that sadness to her father. She had not been able to get it out of her mind. She could leave like her mother, go explore the world. After all, others had chosen to do so.
A crash from the hallway startled Delphine out of her reverie. She frowned; it was one of her rambunctious younger sisters, she imagined. She turned and was confronted by a strange man.
Upon seeing her, he smiled. “You are the spitting image of her,” he said slowly as he perused Delphine from head to toe. “The resemblance is uncanny.” He grinned at her again, and a slow chill crawled up her spine.
Delphine straightened to her full height and used the regal tone of a born royal. “Who are you and what is your business here?”
“You are my business. Do not be afraid, my pet. I will take very good care of you.”
The man lunged for her and Delphine dashed behind a wooden table tipping it over and tripping the man who cursed.
She grabed trinkets off of tables throwing them at him, the little things she had collected from shipwrecks shattering on the stone floor.
Delphine slipped out the doorway into the hall, she started to run, and felt a stinging pain hit her shoulder…and then the world went black.