DANGEROUS LOVE (OTHER BOOKS BY SADIE WITH SAMPLE CHAPTERS)

THE CARIBBEAN'S MOST WANTED SERIES

DESCRIPTION:

THE CARIBBEAN’S MOST WANTED: COMPLETE SERIES

CONTAINS SIX SHORT NOVELS THAT FOLLOW THE RIVETING ADVENTURES OF THE CARIBBEAN’S MOST NATORIOUS PIRATES.

Available for purchase on:

Amazon k****e/Cost $5USD

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B087C9T5HP

Smashword/Cost $5USD

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1016899

BOOKS INCLUDED:

PLAYING THE CAPTAIN’S GAME

(BOOK ONE)

Bella is a rebel going through a mundane life. She would give anything for a little excitement, but when she comes into possession of a magical book, she suddenly finds herself sucked into a world of sea-fearing degenerates looking for wealth. Unsure how to return to her own world, she knows she can't get anywhere without the book the Captain has taken from her. While he does his best to get Bella to help him achieve his goal, she tries to con the Captain. With manipulation in the air, the two wage a war of wills to see who comes out on top.

A LONG WAY FROM HOME

(BOOK TWO)

Stranded in the Caribbean as a child, Kenzie longs for her home back in Scotland. When tragedy strikes, taking away the only caregiver she has had, Kenzie decides to embark on the long journey home. She stows away on a ship, hoping to blend into the crew and go unnoticed, but she doesn't count on the efficiency of the ship's First Mate. She is surprised when he agrees to escort her home at great personal risk.

UNSTOPPABLE FORCE OF NATURE

(BOOK THREE)

Zea Bishop is unlike any woman Caspian knows. She is wild and untamed with the power to control the world around her. She is strong and forceful, and she always gets her way. So, when she sets her sight on Caspian, it is only a matter of time before he falls at her feet and bows to her whims. However, as the Captain's daughter, Zea is off-limits and Caspian finds himself torn between his desire for her and his loyalty to her father.

TEMPTED BY HER PIRATE

(BOOK FOUR)

Dakota Whitman would do anything to escape the future her parents are arranging for her. Seizing her last opportunity for freedom, she enters into a marriage of convenience with a man willing to sell her the protection of his name for the price of her dowry. It is a cold and calculated business arrangement, or at least it is supposed to be. As Dakota gets to know the stranger she has married, she quickly learns her gentleman pirate has a secret that changes everything.

SIN, s*x, AND SEDUCTION

(BOOK FIVE)

Mila Moore is a born pirate and a powerful young witch. Having grown up amongst thieves and murders, she knows how to hold her own. Defiant to the bone, Mila gets in over her head when she comes across a dark family secret, a book with the power to devastate or enrich those capable of reading it. Refusing to heed her mother’s warning, Mila plays with forces she is too young to understand and finds herself marooned on a deserted island with men who both fear and blame her for their dire situation. It isn’t long before she realizes she can trust no one but the man her father despises. If the two of them hope to survive, they will have to learn to work together.

CLAIMING ALEE

(BOOK SIX)

Alee Claymore has spent her life sheltered from her parents’ dangerous lifestyle. The daughter of a feared pirate Captain and a powerful witch, Alee has powers she does not understand and no idea how to control. She is content to live out her life on the island she calls home until the night she crosses paths with a money-hungry pirate Captain who abducts her with the belief that she has the powers to read a map hidden in a powerful magical book he stole from her family. Hell bent on finding his treasure and making his name, he is unwilling to accept that Alee is not like the other women in her family. She faces off against the charismatic Captain and discovers she is more powerful than she knows.

SAMPLE CHAPTER:

BOOK ONE “PLAYING THE CAPTAIN’S GAME”

PROLOGUE

The Atlantic Ocean, May 21, 1711...

Thunder rolled and lightning split the night. The inky black waters tossed the ship like a pebble skipping across a pond. Waves crashed against the sides and over the rails flooding the deck. Xavier Bishop could hardly breathe as the icy waters washed over him, destroying his balance and knocking him over. He slid from one end of the ship to the next and almost over the port side. Had it not been for his lifeline, Xavier would have been swept away.

Grabbing hold of the rope around his waist, he pulled himself to his feet and made his way back to his station. Another wave engulfed the ship and snapped the mast in half. The large piece of lumber fell into the murky waters. The sails fell and caught Xavier dragging him and four others overboard. The waters were cold, and Xavier clung to his lifeline, which was still tied to the ship.

Lightning shot across the sky once more as the sea assaulted the small ship tearing it apart. Xavier watched as the ship broke up and began to sink. Still tied to the larger half, Xavier knew if he did not free himself, he would die. He tried to untie the rope from his waist, but between his wet clothes and his numb fingers, he fumbled. It was not long before the force of the sinking ship dragged Xavier beneath the waters. He held his breath and struggled with the rope in the icy darkness.

Moments from certain death, Xavier pulled a dirk from his belt and cut away the rope. He then swam to the surface and sucked in a deep breath. Thrashing around, he could see no one else as the waves washed over him, pushing Xavier beneath the water once more. Resurfacing, he swam to a chunk of floating wood and clung to it. There were no other ships and not another soul in sight.

Xavier climbed up on to the drifting wood and hung on all night being tossed around by the waters. He would die out here lost at sea. The hours passed, and the storm took its toll on him. He was weak from the thrashing waves, clinging to his makeshift raft when he finally saw another ship in the distance. Too weak to raise his head Xavier lay on the remains of the ship he had been travelling on as the mystery Carrack grew closer.

It was a ship with black sails against the light of the rising sun. As it sailed by, Xavier was brought onboard. Weak and waterlogged, he could barely move as he was dragged over the banister and dropped on the deck. Next to his face, a big black leather bucket boot. A boot that belonged to a powerful leg, attached to a narrow hip, a trim torso, and the face of one of the fiercest men Xavier had ever seen.

He was dressed in a violet velvet waistcoat and a large black felt hat with a peacock feather. His black beard was as long as his black hair, a matted mess of dreadlocks and braids. “Well, what do we ‘ave here?” he asked in a gravelly voice as he nudged Xavier with the toe of his boot. “A little waterlogged but alive, it would seem.”

“A big strapping boy, Captain,” the man next to him said. “Looks like he has a strong back. We could use another pair of hands.”

“Well, what do ye say, lad?” the Captain asked, nudging Xavier again. “Ye willing to serve, or should we toss ye back? ‘Tis me crew or the locker for ye.”

Xavier pushed himself up, his arms trembling from the strain. He did not want to go back into the water. It was difficult, but he dragged himself to his feet and staggered back against the banister. The men on deck all laughed at him. “’Tis, some fight in the lad,” the other man grinned.

Xavier looked around at the crew. The men watching him were shabby and unkempt. His gaze lifted to the flag they were flying. English colours flapped in the wind, but Xavier was savvy enough to know this was no English ship. These men, his saviours, were pirates. Xavier thought about his options. “I am at your service, Captain,” he barely managed.

The Captain placed his weathered hand on Xavier's shoulder. “Welcome to me crew, lad. Mr. Frost, see that the lad gets dry clothes and some food in him,” he said, turning around to address the crew. “Back to your posts, ye scurvy slackers,” he ordered as he walked away.

The other man remained with a smile. He held out his hand to shake Xavier's. He was a man of thirty, with short shaggy blonde hair and matching beard cropped close to the skin. He was of average build with a bit of a belly hanging over the waist of his tanned canvass breeches. “Seth Frost,” he introduced himself. “What be your name, lad?”

“Xavier, Sir, Xavier Bishop,” he said, shaking the man’s hand as his knees began to buckle.

“Easy lad, let’s get ye some food and a place to rest. You’ll be back on your feet in no time,” Seth said, wrapping his arm around Xavier to help him below. Food and a bed sounded really good at that moment.

Seth helped Xavier below deck to the crew’s quarters. It was a large open space with numerous hammocks hung. Xavier dropped onto the closest hammock and relaxed as it swung back and forth.

“What happened to ye lad?” Seth asked, taking a bottle of rum from a rack against the wall of the hull.

“The storm sunk the ship I was on,” he said, accepting the bottle and drinking back a large swig. The liquor burned its way down his throat as he handed the bottle back.

“Well, what can ye do, lad?”

“I was in the crow’s nest, Sir.”

Seth frowned. “Well, we got a man up there already. It is the ropes for ye boy,” he said. “If ye do well, the Captain will reward ye.”

“Who be the Captain?” Xavier asked curiously.

“Captain Howard Murdock of the Destroyer.”

“And where are we headed?” Xavier asked.

Seth leaned forward with a yellow toothy grin. “The Caribbean dear boy where a man can find his fortune and pirates are welcomed.”

“The Caribbean?”

“Aye boy… Tortuga.”

***

New Providence Bahamas, July 1730...

Xavier lifted his mug as Howard’s wench leaned back, laughing while Howard nipped at her neck. They had made port two weeks ago and had been thus far sitting on their hands. He was not having as much fun as the old man was. Xavier was eager to get back out on the water, but each passing year the old man chose to spend more and more time in port.

“Don’t frown such, lad, these are good times,” Howard laughed. “Get yourself a wench. Here ‘ave this one,” he said, shoving the woman from his lap into Xavier's. “I will get another.”

Xavier eased the woman from his lap and placed his mug on the table next to them. “Not that I am ungrateful, Sir, but when will we be setting sail?”

“What is wrong, lad?” Howard asked, lifting a mug of frothy ale to his lips.

“It is just that the men are getting restless,” nineteen years Xavier had served under Howard’s command. He had worked hard and earned his promotions. For the last three years, Xavier had been the first mate. Second, in command, he spoke for the crew and kept the Captain grounded.

“Aye, they are lad,” Howard said, placing the mug on the table and wiping his wet beard with the back of his sleeve.

“It’s just that we ‘aven’t exactly been sailing a lot this past year. As nice as it is to make port, the men are craving some excitement.”

Howard narrowed his eyes, fixing Xavier where he sat. “Are ye trying to say I ‘aven’t been considering me crew?”

“Well-”

“Aye, you're right, lad, but I’m afraid this time we won’t be sailing.”

“But Captain-”

“Don’t argue with me, lad. I’m an old man and I ‘ave had me fill. I ‘ave pilfered me weaselly little black heart out,” Howard sighed, picking up his mug again. “It is time for me to retire. I like it here; a crooked man can make a good life here with all the ale and wenches I can stand.”

What was he saying? “But Sir-”

“No lad,” Howard smiled, “piracy is a young man’s game, and the crew needs a young man to follow. Don’t you think so… Captain Bishop?”

Xavier didn’t know what to say. “Are ye naming me Captain?” he asked, just a little shocked.

“Aye lad, the Destroyer be yours. Treat her good lad, and she’ll be good to ye,” he laughed, tipping back his mug and draining it dry. Howard then slammed it on the table and yelled out to the serving wench. “Another round for me and me men!” A cheer went up, and Howard returned his attention to Xavier.

“Ye are giving me your ship?” Xavier asked, still surprised.

“Aye, she be yours,” Howard said, taking off his hat and placing it on Xavier's head. “Ye will make a fine Captain.”

“The men-”

“Already know,” Howard said with a fatherly smile. “I told them when we made port. Now drink one last time with an old man and ye can set sail in the morning,” the serving wench brought more ale and Howard leaned forward as if to share some great secret. “I got another surprise for ye lad,” he said, reaching into the inner pocket of his violet waistcoat. He removed a ratted old piece of parchment and placed it on the table.

“What be this old man?” Xavier asked, picking it up.

“What does it look like, lad?” Howard laughed as he slapped the ass of a passing wench.

“It looks like a map.”

“Then it must be a map.” Howard winked at Xavier. “I pinched it off a drunkard in Tortuga last spring. Thought ’bout going after it, but it be a journey I be too weathered to make. I ‘ave made me wealth. This one be yours, lad.”

Xavier studied the ancient map, some of the markings he knew others he didn’t, but what stood out to him most was the All-Seeing Eye above what looked like a pyramid. Was it possible this was a map to the fabled Knights’ Templar? A treasure so vast it was said to be the wealth of many nations. Hidden from kings for centuries. Did Howard know what this was? Did he comprehend what it was worth? He couldn’t possibly. If he had, he would not be so quick to give it up.

Though he owed the man his very life, Xavier kept his mouth shut as he tucked the map away safely in his pocket. Howard clearly did not know its value and Xavier was happy to relieve him of it. After all, he was a pirate; any other man worth his salt would do the same. So, he tipped his glass in celebration of the old man’s retirement. Come dawn. He had his heading.

***

CHAPTER 1

Present-day…

“Wake up!”

Bella jerked awake, startled by the loud voice in her ear. She jerked upward, dazed and confused as she looked around at all the faces looking back at her. Smirks and sneers. Beside her stood Professor Hinkler. His hands folded over his diminutive chest, tapping his foot. His black-rimmed glasses sat low on his bulbous nose. His beady eyes glowered at her behind his thick lenses. He was a short, scrawny man with stark white hair and big ears. His face riddled with frown lines. The man never smiled.

“Perhaps you should party less and get more sleep, and you would be able to remain awake in my classes,” he snipped.

She had fallen asleep during his early morning lector. She was exhausted from the party the night before, and his voice only served as a lullaby. He was a boring man teaching a boring subject. It was a wonder more people didn’t fall asleep in his class.

“I’m sorry,” Bella apologized, straightening out her papers, trying to look alert.

Professor Hinkler simply huffed and began his descent down the stairs to the front of the class to continue his lector. “Now if Miss. Prichard is done snoring. Perhaps someone could tell me what the…”

Already her eyes became heavy once more. She hated this class. She wouldn’t even be taking it if it wasn’t a prerequisite to the classes she wanted to take. Personally, she wasn’t sure why she needed history when all she wanted was a doctorate in Psychology. Even that she was only taking because her parents had insisted she do something with her life… something that paid big.

If it were up to her, she would be dancing at a Burning Man festival, not pouring over textbooks. All her life, they had been making her do things she didn’t want to do. Riding lessons, cotillion, and finishing school. She had been shipped off to boarding school the moment she turned eleven and then off to the finest Ivy League university they could buy her way in to.

But all that elitist nonsense and debutant bullshit had never been Bella. She always was more of a wild card. Doing whatever she could to fight the establishment. She certainly didn’t look the debutant with her blue-streaked hair, piercing and tattoos. Instead of designer finery, she wore tall black leather knee-high boots with a four-inch heel and silver buckles on the sides. The pleated skirt of her uniform cut shorter than it should be with the white fitted blouse untucked and only buttoned in the middle. Leaving the top and bottom open, showing both cleavage and her newest navel piercing. She wore her makeup too dark and her skirt too short. The moose in her hair kept her dark mane straight in a trendy punk style.

As Bella did her best to stay awake, she saw her cellphone vibrate against her desktop. Picking it up, she held it low so not to be seen. She had a text message. Meet us at the willow after class. It was from her sorority sister Sandy Kirk. She had joined the sisterhood last semester, and frankly, it was the only part of the university she enjoyed. Her sisters were more like her than like the other stuff shirt Ivy leaguers she was presently surrounded by. Many of them had gotten in with scholarships, and a few were rebelling against their parents as she was. They weren’t the most popular sorority on campus, but they were the most interesting.

The next hour was agony as the Professor went on and on about things she couldn’t care less about. When class was over, she packed up her books and laptop then made a bee line for the doors. It took her ten minutes to get across campus to the park. There was an old willow tree she and her sisters liked to sit beneath.

When she got there, she found both Sandy Kirk and Michelle Jackson, two of her best friends. Sandy was a freshman like Bella and Michelle had already completed one year of her four-year course. Like Bella, they both bucked conventional appearances. Sandy had short blond hair that she wore spiked with red tips. The black eyeliner was dark and thick around her eyes. She dressed in black with pins and patches all over. She never wore her uniform unless utterly necessary.

Michelle, on the other hand, was full tilt gothic with her hair dyed black and her attire as black as her hair and makeup. When they saw Bella, they came to their feet with big smiles. “You look tired,” Michelle teased.

“I fell asleep in class,” she moaned.

“You need coffee,” Sandy suggested as they started walking.

“There is this new shop on the west side,” Michelle said eagerly. “An occult shop, I thought we would check it out as a lark.”

An occult shop, weird; however, she was up for it if they were. They grabbed a coffee from the on-campus coffeehouse then hopped the bus to the west side. Nestled between a second-hand bookstore and a pawn shop, they found a tiny shop called Wicca. Bella followed the other two in. The shop was very small with shelves and tables everywhere. There were candles of every size, shape, and colour. Charms and pendants. There were jars of roots and powders. Against a far wall were books. Old books and new books. Some with leather bindings.

The shop smelled of burning incense. There was a backroom passed an entrance covered in a curtain of strung beads. On the other side was a small round table with cards. “Would you like a reading?”

Startled, Bella turned around to see the shop owner smiling back at her. She was a middle-aged woman with a kind face and long curly blonde hair. She wore a long summer dress, not looking anything like what Bella would have suspected a witch to look like.

The woman pulled back the beads for Bella to pass with a warm smile. “It would only take a minute,” she said softly as she crossed the room to the table. Bella took a seat across from the woman and placed her backpack on the floor by her feet. Her friends were still looking around, but Bella was interested in the so-called reading the woman had offered.

The woman reached out and took Bella’s hand palm up. She looked it over and traced her finger over the lines on her skin. “I see strength. I see adventure. I see a man, a dangerous man. I see… history. You play a part in history.”

Bella laughed as she pulled her hand away. She looked down to see her bag open and her textbook showing. “You get that from my bookbag?” She asked, not buying the psychic reading.

“No,” the woman frowned, “I see what will be has been. Your future and the past are intertwined,” suddenly she came to her feet and searched a table stacked with old books. It didn’t look like she could find what she was looking for.

The beads moved aside, and Sandy poked her head through, waving a jar and a pair of candles. “How much for these?” she asked the woman.

“Twenty dollars,” she said without looking back. “There it is,” she smiled, taking a leather-bound book from the bottom of the fourth pile. She turned around, triumphantly holding the book above her head. “This, I believe, is yours,” she said, holding out the book to Bella.

It was worn, very old, weathered brown leather binding and tied shut with twine. There was no title, just a picture of an eye above a triangle branded into the leather. “That’s not mine.”

“Oh, yes, it is,” the woman said, forcing the book into Bella’s hands.

“I don’t have any money,” Bella objected, handing the book back.

“There is no charge. After all, it belongs to you anyway,” she said with a smile. How odd, Bella thought. She wasn’t really interested in fighting with the woman. If she really wanted her to have the crummy book, then she would take it. Bella stuffed the book into her bag and tossed her bag over her shoulder. “Thank you… I guess,” she followed the woman back out into the main room where Sandy and Michelle acquired four sets of candles, two jars of some kind of powder, and an Occult for Dummies book.

“That was strange,” Bella said as they left the shop.

“I think it was sort of cool,” Michelle giggled, reading the index of her new book. “Who wants to do a little magic tonight?” She asked in a scary mocking tone drawing a laugh from her friends.

“Look what I got,” Sandy said, reaching into the pocket of her baggie black cargo pants. She pulled out a wooden box of tarot cards.

“When did you buy that?” Bella asked.

“Five finger discount,” Sandy giggled, wiggling her fingers. “I didn’t have enough for all of it.”

“You stole them?”

“Did you see how cluttered that shop was? She’ll never even notice,” Sandy insisted.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Bella protested, snatching the cards from Sandy and heading back to the shop.

“Are you crazy Bella she’ll call the cops on us. Do you really want to spend the weekend in county?” Sandy asked, bringing Bella to a stop. She had a point. If she got arrested again, her parents were not going to bail her out. They had enough of her wild ways. As it was, she had lost her license recently for driving drunk. Which at nineteen she wasn’t even supposed to be drinking.

Bella turned around and stuffed the cards into her own pocket. “Fine, but I’m keeping them.”

“I pinched them.”

“That’s why you don’t get them.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “Oh, miss high and mighty. You know everyone does it and have since the dawn of time. It is the oldest profession.”

Bella laughed and playfully shoved Sandy. “That’s prostitution dumb-ass.”

“Whatever.”

“Look here,” Michelle said, pointing to a page in her book. “This is a spell that can reveal past lives. Let’s do that one.”

“There is no such thing as past lives and magic isn’t real,” Bella said as they climbed up onto the bus that just pulled up to the curb. “All magic is smoke and mirrors. It can all be scientifically explained.”

“Oh, come on, it’s just for fun. What would it hurt? It’s not like any of it is real. Besides, you got something better to do tonight?” Michelle said as they made their way to the backbench. An old woman was watching every move they made while clinging to her pocketbook. Bella hated the way people assumed the worst of her just because she happened to look a little unorthodox.

She took her seat in the back of the bus, propping one foot up on the seat in front of her. “What did you get?” Sandy asked, taking the seat next to her.

“Some old book she forced on me.”

“Let’s see.”

Bella opened her bag and removed the worn old book handing it to Sandy. Sandy removed the twine and flipped through the pages. “There is nothing in here.”

“What?” Bella took the book back and flipped from front to back. The paper was old but blank. Not a single letter or picture on any page. “What gives?” Why did she insist on giving her a blank book?

“Why would she give you this?”

“Who knows?” Bella replied, placing the book on the empty seat next to her. “That woman was crazy anyway,” what a useless book. When the bus came to their stop, Bella got up, leaving the book on the bus. She didn’t want it anyway.

***

Bella turned off the shower and wrapped the towel around herself as she stepped out. She headed down the hall to her room, where she shut the door and dropped her towel. Opening her dresser, she took out a nightshirt that barely covered her bottom. She was staying in tonight to study. Pulling on a pair of blue lace panties, she took a seat at the desk, booting up her laptop. As the system loaded, she opened her book bag and pulled out her textbooks, dropping something as she did so.

Bella placed the books beside her laptop and bent over to pick up what she had dropped, abruptly coming to a stop when she saw what it was. The leather-bound book the witch had given her was now lying on the floor beside her feet. “What the hell?” She said, picking it up. How did this find its way back into her bag? She had left it on the bus, of that she had been sure.

Pulling the twine free, she opened the book. The pages were still blank. Assuming that Sandy must have returned it to her bag, Bella placed the book on top of her textbook. She had studying to do. Returning her attention back to her task Bella dived into her work. She focused as best she could for as long as she could. As the sun set, the room grew dark. She reached up to turn on her lamp when she noticed something strange. A light was coming from inside the leather-bound book.

Curious, she picked it up and opened the cover. On the front page, three shining golden words had appeared before her eyes. It wasn’t English; it wasn’t French. In fact, she had no idea what it was.

“Modo tenus deinde,” she read aloud.

Suddenly the desk and chair began to shake. The book radiated a blinding light forcing her to bring up her hands to guard her eyes. Bella screamed as a strong wind filled the room, tossing her things about like a small tornado. The force of the wind dragged Bella from her seat, tossing her about the room. The book was now lying on the floor, the only thing not moving.

Bella cried out for help but was drowned out by the howling of the wind. She slammed into her bed and clung to the frame. She felt a knot of fear in her belly as the whirling wind began to be sucked back into the glowing book. The force dragged Bella and all the furniture into the book.

Screaming, Bella fell for what felt like forever blinded by the light. Then she hit the water so hard her entire body ached from the impact. Ice cold, inky water wrapped around Bella stinging her skin like a million needles at once. Sinking deep into the water, she couldn’t see… couldn’t breathe.

Bella was a strong swimmer, but even she could not fight the current as it dragged her down. I’m going to die! She thought, struggling to reach the surface. Clawing at the water, Bella managed to grab hold of something floating. As she burst through the surface of the water, she gasped, sucking in a deep breath filling her lungs with the salty air.

The light was gone, and she was surrounded by darkness. In any direction, there was nothing but water. Above her, the night sky bright and twinkling with stars. The moon was full and low over the water. Bella dragged her waterlogged body up onto the floating object. It was broken wood, perhaps the remains of her desk.

Around her were chunks of floating debris of what had once been her room. She spotted her laptop, ruined and sinking. Her bed had sunk, but the mattress still bobbed in the water. Farther down was her chair, which had been snapped into four smaller pieces. Her books were ruined. Her backpack floated nearby. Then she saw it, the book that had caused all the trouble.

Her hands in the water Bella tried to reach the book. Just out of range, she couldn’t quite reach it, her fingertips just millimetres from the book. Bella stretched as much as she could and fell into the water. The cold was brutal, but she had the book in her grasp. Reaching for her bag, she stuffed the book inside and tossed the bag on top of the ruined desk. Again, Bella dragged herself up on top of the debris and lay back, panting hard. She was freezing and tired, not to mention confused. What had just happened, and where the hell was she?