Pirate queens revenge, p.1
Pirate Queen's Revenge, page 1
PIRATE QUEEN’S REVENGE
PIRATE MOST WANTED
BOOK 2
ISOLDE HOLYOAKE
BONNETPUNK PRESS
Pirate Queen’s Revenge, by Isolde Holyoake
Published by Anna Klein, Bonnetpunk Press
Copyright © 2025 by Anna Klein
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover by Lara Wynter
ISBN:
[978-1-0670200-5-7] Paperback
[978-1-0670200-6-4] Epub
[978-1-0670200-7-1] Print on Demand
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book took approximately five years longer to write than I initially planned, because after releasing the first one, I developed debilitating chronic migraines. I want to thank all the readers who enjoyed Pirate Queen’s Curse so much that they kept asking for this book, and kept my enthusiasm for the story alive. Not the least of these is my mum, who regularly demanded “more pirate books!”
I want to thank my patient and dedicated editor, Gillian St Kevern, who turned my messy draft into something legible. I couldn’t have done this without her keen insight and her support.
I’m so grateful to my Mum, Dad, my sister Judit, and my husband Tigger for all of their constant support in the last few really difficult years in general, and for their specific support with my writing.
Thanks to my friends who keep me sane and encourage me: Michelle, my business buddy, and one of Magpie’s biggest fans. And Sarah, Philippa, Prema, Porl, Elle and Tanja. You all rock
To Magpie’s three biggest real-world fans:
My mum, Tigger and Michelle
CONTENTS
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Thanks for Reading!
About the Author
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Firstly, a note on generative AI: This book is entirely human made and no generative AI was used in any part of the process. I believe the arts are for human expression, even if it is something as whimsical as sexy pirate adventures. My editor is a human being. My cover artist is human being who does not use AI elements in her work. I realise there is an abundance of em dashes in the text, and I’m afraid that’s because I love em dashes and I’ve loved them long before we were blighted by generative AI. I hope you’ll understand that it’s just the writing foible of a millennial and not the telltale sign of a soulless plagiarism machine.
Secondly, a note on historical accuracy. Because the ‘golden age of piracy’ that is depicted here is based on the largely made up fantasy version of piracy we see in movies and books, it’s hard to pinpoint a date for historical details. I’ve used historical detail where I can and for the rest, I’ve gone with ‘vibes’.
1
Hung by the neck until dead.
Thrown into Shark Bait Bay.
Locked in a room with a poisonous snake
Another day, another island, an all new slew of people to fantasize about murdering.
My vision was still dancing with the after-effects of Magnus Grimstead’s light show: an enormous column of purple light and teleportation, the magical equivalent of whipping his dick out and waving it at the biggest gathering of pirates in the Caribbean. Normally, the image of a wizened rich man in magician’s robes swinging his old-man dick around would make me laugh but currently, I was so angry, the laughter emerged as a choke of indignation.
They’d kidnapped Val. My best friend. The queen of sex. The jewel of the Caribbean.
“Fuck!” I shouted. It came out shriller than I would have liked.
A haze of gunpowder from the naval battle earlier still hung over the town. My night vision was returning. I turned to look at the crowd. Every sailor who could stand unaided after the battle with Haddrick and Mercer’s fleet was there. Most of them stood with jaws agape. A few were muttering, mostly to themselves.They all looked at me.
Did they blame me? Or did they just expect me to know what to do next?
I rounded on Lysander. He stood beside me in just his breeches, having been interrupted mid-amorous encounter. His chest was so pale, it was almost as blinding as his dad’s magic column.
“You,” I growled, grabbing him by the ear, yanking him toward me until we were nose to nose. “Explain what the fuck just happened.”
He hissed in pain.
“Me?” he said, with a hint of a whine in his voice. “I didn’t have anything to do with it. Let go of me.”
“No.” My anger had bubbled over from raging hot to seething cold. I dragged Lysander by the ear toward the epicentre of the magical column, the prison pit at the centre of town. “Why didn’t they just fucking take you instead of kidnapping Val?”
“I’m still tied to the ship, for one thing,” Lysander said, between noises of irritation and pain. “Secondly, that’s not how magic works. It would be very bad news if my father could reach across long distances at will and snatch people.”
“He literally just did that.” I nearly shook him. “You were right there.”
We reached the edge of the pit. It looked like an explosion had taken place. The old stones were scorched. Lying in a huddled heap, chained to the floor where I’d last seen her, was my former-first-mate-turned-mutineer, Elspeth. She looked like hell. Her clothes were in tatters and ugly burns were visible across most of her skin. I couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive, until she shifted slightly.
Alive then, at least for the moment.
“Do you see the pattern of the burns?” Lysander said, his hand coming up to grip my wrist and try to free his ear. I tightened my hold. “She’s the centre, they all streak out from her. She must have had a magical focus. Father’s work is usually exceptionally neat, so my wager is that he was using something she had for a purpose different than the one initially intended.”
“She had some ugly necklaces.” I peered at her. "They're gone now." Other than the burns left in great looping lines where they had lain against her skin.
"Probably the focus," Lysander said. "Almost certainly designed to pull her out rather than bring people through."
"Wish I'd thrown them in the sea." I stared at Elspeth's prone form. "But I didn't think they were important."
“If it makes you feel better,” Lysander offered, still trying to free his ear from my pinch, “that probably wouldn’t have helped much.”
I turned to face the rumbling crowd of pirates, and addressed them with a well practiced boom.
"If these scurvy bilgerats want me to come to Port Elizabeth, then by Neptune's hairy blue nutsack, they're going to get me in Port Elizabeth," I announced to the mass of wounded, drunk, and gobsmacked pirates gathered in the streets, trying very much to sound like I had some fucking idea I knew what I was doing. "And they're going to fucking regret inviting me, they're going to fucking regret blackmailing me and most of all they're going to regret ever thinking they could lay a hand on Val."
The crowd roared, all concentrated anger. My rage swelled in answer. "I have the old wizard's son here by the ear and the commodore locked in my brig. If they want these two assholes back, well, we'll serve them up on a platter with a side order of revenge besides. Drink, fuck, rest. But in the morning, any sailor who wants to take up this invitation to Port Elizabeth, be ready: we sail on the noon tide, and we will show them what it means to steal from the thieves."
2
The conclusion of my rallying cry brought a loud roar. The crowd began to disperse. The hum of victory now had an undercurrent of unease and unsettled stirring.
"Your old man kicked a hornet's nest. Do you think he knows that?" I asked Lysander, yanking on his ear.
He hissed with pain. "He kicked an anthill. You might think you're hornets, but you're helpless against him."
"We'll see," I muttered. " Let's look at this mess. You're going to tell me exactly what your daddy's pyrotechnics were all about."
I finally released his ear and climbed down into the pit, taking in the detritus of Magnus's magic. Lysander scrambled after me, proving he had some sense after all. A third set of boots landed near us. I looked back to see the tall form of Benedict St Stephen, a commodore of the British Navy and currently my prisoner.
"A prisoner in your brig? You didn't need to protect me like that," the commodore said. "I have been more than willing to own up to who I am."
"Yeah?" I hiked an eyebrow. "I’m sure you’ve already tried telling them who you are. How’d that go?"
There was a long pause.
"They didn't believe me," he admitted. "They like me." The admission pained him.
"Well, don't look at me for an explanation.” I shrugged and turned back to look at the blasted pit. “I for one don't like you."
"Sure, that's why you protected him," Lysander said. I could hear the sneer in his voice and my palm itched to slap him.
"I was protecting my own ass."
"Is that why you've been flirting with him non-stop?"
Don’t murder the smug little git. Don’t murder him. You need him.
"You don’t have to like someone to want to fuck them. You nearly managed to get some action and you're completely unlikeable."
"I'm very likeable. You just have no taste."
"You're not likeable, Grimstead," the commodore interjected. "But Flint still has no taste."
"All right, I'm done with listening to what passes for witty repartee from the two of you. I'm in a lot of pain, I'm very angry, I really want to kill someone for this, and Dauntless turned into a parrot right before I finally managed—” I cut myself off. “...you know what, that's not relevant. The two of you are going to help me examine this mess, then go nice and quiet back to the ship, and then I'm going to get some sleep. I have a lot of revenge to deal with in the morning. Am I understood?"
Suddenly, Elspeth moved. She let out a horrendous, rasping sound, somewhere between a cry and a groan. The three of us jumped.
I grabbed Lysander by the arm, digging my fingers in hard enough to bruise." Is there anything else magical on her person?"
"There's nothing on her person except burns. Even you should be able to tell that."
The commodore stared across the pit, jaw working as he looked at Elspeth. He met my eyes. "She's still alive."
The most law-abiding man I've ever met—though that's not saying much, given my usual company—was far from his usual state of regulation cleanliness. He wore dark breeches and a shirt stained by dirt and blood from the earlier battle. His short shorn dark hair was matched by several days of stubble. That, coupled with the heat of anger behind his blue eyes, made him look more like a bloodthirsty pirate than the representative of the law on the sea.
"Aye," I said. "Fucking Grimstead couldn't do us the courtesy of finishing her off."
"Leave it to me, captain." The commodore surged forward with a singular look of focus.
I knew that look in a man’s eyes. It meant murder.
3
My free hand shot out, grabbing him by the wrist. "Hold on now, matey," I snapped.
He rounded on me. "I want her dead." His voice was guttural, raw.
Instead of making me angry, as it should have, it sent a shiver up my spine. Something tightened low in my abdomen. Vengeful made him look intensely fuckable. I wasn’t ready for the hot rush of lust, especially not in the midst of disaster.
The commodore wrenched me from my thoughts, trying to shake off my hand. "I thought you wanted her dead too."
Didn't I want her dead? She was a mutineer, former first mate, a long time friend who stabbed me and most of us pirate folk in the back…
Yeah. I should want her dead.
Sympathy pierced my stomach. I knew why he wanted her dead. She killed his crew and sank his ship.
We should be fighting over who got to kill her. I shouldn’t be stopping him. So why was I?
"We won't be killing her," I told him. "She has information and she knows where my old crew is. We still need her."
"I don't understand you at all." His confusion was palpable. I could feel him trembling with rage, rage with no outlet. Join the club, sailor.
"You'll thank me later," I said. "For stopping you from murdering a woman without a proper trial. You’d hate yourself after the rage wore off. I’m doing you a favour."
"Excuse me," Lysander interrupted. "Do you really need me here while you gaze at each other, yelling about murdering people, or can I get back to where my lovers and I were rudely interrupted?"
Oh good, I was so glad he reminded me he was there, he was much less complicated to be angry about.
"You're not fucking anyone, Grimstead, not with Val kidnapped, not with any of this happening.” I released the commodore’s wrist, and pointed at Elspeth. “Give me a straight answer. Anything magical left?”
“If there was, it’s burned away now. She should be dead. That's probably the only reason they left her behind.”
“Then we’re done here.” I crouched to address Elspeth. “I'm going to put you out of the way where you're not going to bother me or anyone else, and I can keep my eye on you.” I turned to the commodore, who was still standing there, his eyes showing rage and confusion. "Commodore, take Elspeth to the brig. See that she's alive when you leave her there." I waited for him to acknowledge the order before I left him there, reasonably confident he wouldn’t kill Elspeth. He bowed his head. Satisfied, I hauled myself out of the pit.
Topside, I found Lysander trying to sneak off into the crowd. Any patience I had left ran out in that moment. I dragged him into a headlock, and clamped my hand over his mouth. As I hauled him towards my ship, an amused ripple spread through the crowd of pirates. Lysander tried to fight my grip, but for all his magical powers, his arms hadn't seen a push-up in a good long while.
I bellowed at the crowd. "Someone fetch me my ship's doctor, and Judith the witch."
I strode towards the ship, Lysander's feet scrabbling for purchase before dragging behind us uselessly. He resorted to trying to bite my palm.
Judith appeared at my side as I was pulling him along the gangplank onto the ship, and she helpfully lifted his feet off the ground. I didn't need the help, but let her do it, after all, it was all the more ignominious for Lysander.
"You're not going to kill him, are you?" Judith peered over the tops of the wizard's bare feet. "I have so much magic to learn from him. Oh, and you need him to rescue your friend."
"No, I'm not going to kill him, I've got just the place for him. But I need your advice to make sure he can't cast any spells or do anything spooky while he's meant to be helpless."
The door to my cabin was open. I hadn't shut it when I had gone to investigate the bone-shaking shouting. We hauled Lysander inside, and I dumped him unceremoniously on the floor.
He didn't say anything, for once, just gazed at me petulantly. He reminded me of nothing so much as a cat pushed off a chair. Val's 'parrot cage' had been housing my ex-lover-turned-parrot for the past few days but in reality, it had been constructed with a human sized occupant in mind. I unhooked the lock that held the side shut, and the entire side of the cage opened.
"If I stick him in there, will he be able to do any hocus pocus?" I asked, looking at Judith, whose eyes were a little too wide. You'd think she hadn't seen a person sized cage before. Then again, most people on the right side of the law haven't. Though Val's cage was made with carnal pursuits in mind, it would do just fine keeping a snippy brat of a wizard man in check.
