After his mentor is viciously killed, Bastien Harcourtseeks to avenge his death. But he soon discovers himself astonishingly out of his depth when confronted with a beautiful, daring young woman who is out for hisblood.
Revenge is the name of the game for Raeven Russell. The daughter of a British Admiral, Raeven believes Bastien is responsible for her fianc�'s death. But once the fiery beauty crosses swords with Bastien, she's not sure she wants him to change his wicked ways.
Fans of Julia Quinn, Sabrina Jefferies, and Lorraine Heath will be spellbound by this fast paced historical romance that combines revenge, adventure, and romance on the high seas.
The Sons of the Revolution Series:
The Making of a Duchess (Book 1):Julien Harcourt, duc de Val�re, is more than willing to marry the lovely young lady his mother has chosen. Little does he know, she's been sent to prove him a spy and a traitor.
The Making of a Gentleman (Book 2):Armand, Comte de Val�re has lost the ability to interact with polite society, until his family hires him a beautiful tutor, and he starts to come alive again.
The Rogue Pirate's Bride (Book 3)
"If you are looking for passion, humor, and a man who has most definitely met his match in every way, then this is for you."
"This is a wonderfully entertaining, fast pacing conclusion to the Sons of the Revolution series that had me laughing out loud and shedding a tear or two."
"Prepared to be sucked into a world of danger, intrigue, humor, romance, and the thrill of the high seas. It's swashbuckling!"
In this high seas adventureShana blends action, with humor and of course romance. This is a must readfor all."What reviewers are saying about The Rogue Pirate's Bride
"Full of intrigue, humor non-stop fun and a very enjoyable story... And who doesn't love a pirate."-RomFan Reviews
"Between the sword fights, terrific battle scenes, steamy stuff, and sweet conclusion, readers will walk away knowing they lived an adventure."-Long and Short Reviews
"All the ingredients to keep you up until the wee hours of the night. The characters are scrumptiously refreshing... Shana Galen writes a fun, vivid story."-Paperback Dolls
"The story was thrilling full of sea battles, betrayals and excitement, the love story was just the perfect mix of heart-warming and sizzling..."-Ex Libris
"A delicious high seas adventure... a humorous and passionate historical romance."-Romance Junkies
"Galen's latest old-school historical offers a nonstop, swashbuckling plot that will keep readers on the edge of their seats, while the passion-rich romance that develops between her bold, impetuous heroine and sinfully sexy hero will have them sighing with satisfaction."-Booklist OnlineWhat people are saying about RITA Nominee Shana Galen
"Her fast paced, action packed, thrill-seeking adventuresthat are filled with energy, passion, sensuality, romance and love."-My Book Addiction and More
"Galen creates a lighthearted yet poignant, humorous yet touching, love story - with original characters who delight and enough sizzle to add heat to a delicious read."-RT Book Reviews
"Tinged with danger and darkness, Galen's sexy and dramaticstory has depth thanks to appealing characters with realistic problems and believable chemistry."-Publishers Weekly
"Galen is a grand mistress of the action/adventure subgenre."-RT Book Reviews
About the author
"That''s him," Percy whispered. "I''m almost certain of it."
Raeven Russell glanced at Percy. There was a fine sheen of perspiration on his pale, freckled skin, and his white-blond hair stood up in all directions as though he''d run a hand through it half a dozen times. Which he probably had. Percy Williams was purser for the HMS Regal, and while Raeven knew Percy adored her, she also knew he abhorred any action that violated her father''s rules.
She reached over and slung an arm around him in the jaunty way she had seen men do time and time again. "You look nervous," she said under her breath. "People will wonder why."
"I am nervous," he hissed. "You''re going to get yourself killed."
"That''s my problem." She shifted away from him and scanned the men around her. Which one was Cutlass? There were several likely candidates.
Raeven stood like a man-legs braced apart and hands on hips-to survey the seedy Brest tavern. Dockside taverns the world over were the same, she mused as she studied the crowd. They were filled with sailors looking for wine and women, ships'' captains hiring additions to their crews, beleaguered serving girls skirting men''s too-free hands, and whores working to entice any man with the coin to pay.
She didn''t know why she should feel so at home. She certainly didn''t belong here and had gone to considerable trouble to disguise herself as a young man before sneaking off her father''s ship and onto a cutter with the crew members going ashore legitimately.
If her father knew she was here... She shook her head. She could hear his booming voice in her head. The daughter of a British admiral should behave with more decorum, in a manner befitting her station in life.
But what was her station in life? Her mother had died days after her birth, and from the age of four-when the last of her relatives had given her up as incorrigible-she''d been sailing with her father. This certainly wasn''t the first tavern she''d visited. It wasn''t even the first time she''d sneaked off the HMS Regal.
It was the first time she''d found Captain Cutlass. After six months of searching for the murdering bastard, she was about to meet him... face to face.
"It''ll be my neck when your father finds out." Percy swallowed audibly, and she suppressed a smile.
"Then you won''t be long in following me to meet our maker. I''ll put in a good word for you."
He gave her a horrified look, which she supposed indicated he didn''t think she''d be a very good envoy. He cleared his throat. "I prefer a little more time on this earthly world."
"I''m in complete agreement. Now, tell me which one he is again, but don''t look at him or gesture toward him."
"Let''s go sit at the bar," Percy said. "You can see him better from there, and we''ll be less conspicuous."
"Fine." Remembering to play her role, she swaggered to the bar and leaned against it, trying to look belligerent. Percy ordered ale, and she did as well, though she had no intention of drinking it. She needed all her wits about her.
When the barkeep moved away, Percy studied his mug and murmured, "See the man in the far corner?"
Raeven allowed her gaze to roam lazily over the tavern until she focused on the corner he indicated.
"He''s dressed as a gentleman in a navy coat, white cravat, buff breeches."
She saw him now and nodded. "A gentleman pirate." She shook her head. "Contradiction in terms."
"The rumor is he''s a deposed marquis whose family fled France during the revolution."
She scowled at him. "Don''t tell me you believe that rubbish. All the pirates concoct romantic stories. Just because one claims he''s a duke doesn''t make him any less of a thief and murderer."
"Of course I don''t believe it. I''m telling you the rumor."
But she could hear in his voice he had believed the story, and now that she''d set her eyes on Cutlass, she could see why. The man did have the air of the aristocrat about him. It wasn''t simply his clothes-any man could dress up as one of the quality, but there was something in Cutlass''s bearing. He was sitting at a table, his back to the wall, facing the door to the tavern. That much told her he was no fool. There was a man seated across from him, and Cutlass was listening in a leisurely fashion to whatever the man was saying. Cutlass''s arms were crossed over his chest, and his expression was one of mild interest. He had a glass of something on the table before him, but she hadn''t seen him drink from it. Nor had she seen any whores approach him.
He was doing business then. It would have better served her purposes if he''d been drunk and whoring, but she didn''t have the luxury of choosing when to strike.
Her gaze slid back to Percy. "He''s handsome," she remarked and watched the purser''s eyebrows wing upward. "I hadn''t expected that."
The reports she''d had of him rarely mentioned his appearance. Captain Cutlass was known for his stealth, his agility, and his slippery escapes. It was rumored he''d boarded over a hundred vessels. That was obviously exaggeration, but even if his record was a quarter of that, it was an impressive feat. Of course, he claimed he was a privateer, and she knew he sailed under the Spanish flag and with that country''s letters of marque. She didn''t care for privateers any more than she cared for pirates, and made little distinction between them. Neither pirates nor privateers should dare attack ships of the British Navy. Neither should dare to kill a British naval officer.
She felt the anger and the blood pump through her and took a deep, calming breath. She couldn''t afford to be emotional right now. She had to put emotion away. And she couldn''t afford a schoolgirl crush on the man either. Yes, he was handsome. His dark brown hair was brushed back from his forehead and would have grazed his shoulder if not neatly secured in a queue. His face was strong with a square jaw, plenty of angles and planes, and a full mouth that destroyed the hard effect and hinted at softness. But the eyes-the eyes did not lie. There was no softness in the man. She couldn''t quite see the eye color from this far away, but under the sardonic arch of his brow his eyes were sharp, cold, and calculating.
A worthy adversary, and she''d spill his blood tonight.
"I don''t like the look in your eyes," Percy said. "Now that you''ve seen him, you can''t possibly mean to challenge him. He''s not a small man."
Raeven straightened her shoulders to give herself more height. She was well aware of her short stature, but size and strength were not everything. She was small and quick and deadly. "I do mean to challenge him," she said, brushing her hand against the light sword at her waist. "I''m only waiting until his business is completed." Though if it took much longer, she would have to interrupt. She wanted this over and done.
"I don''t think that''s wise. Perhaps if we wait-"
"I''m not waiting," she snapped. "I''ve waited six months, and that''s too long."
"Timothy would not have wanted..."
Her glare cut him off. "Timothy is dead, and his murderer is sitting over there having a chat and sipping wine. Timothy would have wanted justice."
And because she knew Percy''s next comment would be about justice versus vengeance, and because she did not want to hear it, she pushed off the bar and arrowed for Cutlass''s table. It was a short trek across the tavern but long enough for her heart to pick up speed and pound painfully in her chest. She tried to calm herself with a deep breath, but she exhaled shakily. Her hands were sweating, and she flexed them to keep them loose.
When she stepped in front of Cutlass''s table, he glanced up at her briefly and then back at the man seated across from him. Before she could speak, another man was beside her.
"Move away, lad. The captain''s busy at present." The man was tall and lanky with a shock of red hair and pale, freckled skin. He was well dressed and spoke to her in fluent, if accented, French. English, she thought, and well bred. Probably Cutlass''s quartermaster.
She stood her ground. "I think the captain will want to hear what I have to say." She said it to Cutlass, but he didn''t acknowledge her.
"I''ll tell him you wish to speak with him. In the meantime..." He made the mistake of taking her arm, and she responded with a quick jab to his abdomen. He grunted in surprise and took a step back.
"Problem, Mr. Maine?" Cutlass said smoothly. He had one brow cocked and a bemused smile on his lips. Obviously, he didn''t see her as any sort of threat. "Is the lad giving you trouble?" He also spoke in French, but his was sweet and thick as honey. A native speaker, she surmised, and one with a polished accent. No wonder he played the deposed French marquis.
"No, Captain," Maine said, stepping forward again. "I''ll get him out of your way."
Raeven put a hand on the small dagger at her waist. "Touch me again, and I''ll slice your hand off." Her gaze met Cutlass''s. "I want a word with you."
"Obviously." He lifted his wine, sipped. "But you''ll have to learn some manners first. Come back when you''ve mastered the art of patience."
In one lightning-quick move, she drew her dagger, rounded the table, and pressed it under his jaw. "You want to talk about patience?" She pressed the blade into the bronze skin until a small bead of blood welled up. "I''ve been waiting six long months to slit your throat."
"Is that all?" he said, setting his glass of wine on the table. With annoyance, she noted his hand did not even tremble. "There are some who''ve waited far longer."
"I''m going to kill you," she said, looking directly into his eyes. They were cobalt blue and framed with thick b