Rescued by the Buccaneer VBT

Blurb:

When Frederica Beauchamp boards a ship for the Americas, she dreams of a life filled with adventure, but she gets more than she bargained for when her passenger ship is attacked by pirates. The heartless men kidnap her and force her to serve their captain—a fate that might be worse than death, since though he does not have his way with her, the captain delights in baring her, shaming her, and thrashing her bare bottom as punishment for every imagined disobedience.

After the pirates bring aboard an injured man found floating in the sea, Frederica tends to his wounds and learns that he is Gaston Galette, a survivor of a shipwrecked vessel. Gaston seeks her help to overthrow the vile captain, but when their plan goes awry he is forced to use all of his wiles to save them. As the naïve girl and the seasoned sailor navigate one perilous situation after another, he informs Frederica that the only way they can survive is if he is in command, and that if she thinks things can be otherwise, she will be taken over his knee for a bare bottom spanking.

As he watches the proud, willful Frederica bow to his authority, however, Gaston worries that her growing hold on his heart will be his downfall. He knows he cannot take a woman with him when he returns to his ship and crew, but when Frederica accepts his lustful dominance completely, submitting to him with grace and beauty no other woman could match, Gaston realizes that he may never be able to let her go.

Publisher’s Note: Rescued by the Buccaneer is the first book of the Pirates of the Jolie Rouge trilogy. It is an adventure and erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes including elements of BDSM and humiliation, and more.

Excerpt:

As he removed his shirt, she couldn’t help but notice his burnished skin rippled with muscles. His biceps bulged, and the planes of his stomach appeared to be carved with a knife. Long matted hair formed thin locks that fell past his shoulders, making him appear wild, yet with a hint of civility and charm. And rather handsome for a drowned bilge rat.

The man bowed dramatically at the waist. “Mademoiselle, I am Gaston Galette. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

She nodded curtly. “You are French?”

“Oui, oui. Do you speak French?” he asked.

She shook her head no.

“A pity. The French language is exquisite—not unlike yourself.” He lifted an eyebrow flirtatiously.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I see. My name is Frederica Beauchamp. My ancestors did speak French, but alas, I am only an Englishwoman. Is that the injury of which they speak?” She pointed at the red gash.

“Aye.”

“Let us find something to clean it with.” She nodded to Bradford.

Bradford escorted them to a small room below deck and brought a number of supplies, including turpentine, soapy water, rags, and bandages. He also gave Gaston a cup of grog to drink before excusing himself.

Gaston perched on a barrel against the wall. Frederica knelt beside him, dipping a rag into the bucket of soapy water.

“The sea water is a blessing and a curse. The brine cleanses the wound, but the water can introduce infection as well.” She laid her hand on his knee, causing him to jump.

She giggled. “Calm yourself. I haven’t done anything yet.” Then she poured a cupful of the turpentine into the cut. He winced as the antiseptic permeated the broken skin.

“You know what you’re doing?” he asked, his voice strained.

“My father was a physician. I picked up a few things.”

“Now what is a physician’s daughter doing sailing the ocean with this motley crew of scallywags?” His dark eye twinkled.

“Long story,” she said, wiping the wound with the rag.

He leaned back and set his feet up on another barrel. “I’ve got nothing but time, Princess.”

Ignoring him, she asked, “What happened to your eye?”

“Wood splinter. Canon fire can be a nasty business. Here,” he said reaching for the rag. “I’d like to cleanse it.” He lifted the patch away from his eye, at the same time shielding Frederica from seeing the site of the eye injury and dabbed at it, squeezing the rag until soapy water dripped down and dribbled off his well-trimmed beard.

“I’m supposed to do that,” she said.

He smiled and handed her back the rag. “You may finish up, my dear.”

“What makes you think you can call me that?” She pushed back, hands settling on her hips.

He sighed as if he found her tiresome. “I just did, didn’t I?”

She folded her arms and gave him a dirty look. “I’m not your dear,” she said through gritted teeth. “You may call me Frederica or Miss Beauchamp.”

“I see. And how did you come to join a pirate crew, Frederica?”

She softened. “I’m not a member of the crew. I am their prisoner, taken on my way to the colonies.”

“Taken? So that’s how you wound up with this scurrilous crew.”

“I was aboard the passenger ship, the Adelaide, when Captain Humphrey and his men attacked us.” The corners of her mouth fell.

“What happened?”

“They stole everything of value, then killed everyone.” She shrugged at the senseless loss of life and dropped her eyes to the floor.

“How did you escape?”

“Captain Humphrey took me as his prisoner.”

What are you working on right now?

I’m writing the second book in the Pirates of the Jolie Rouge Trilogy, Bound by the Buccaneer, and I’ll be starting the third one soon.

What do you think you’re really good at?

I’m a good cook, and I’m pretty good at handicapping horses at the racetrack. I used to be a psychologist so I’m also an expert at analyzing people which can be a good or a bad thing.

What do you think you’re really bad at?

Running (I’m top heavy) and anything involving 3-dimensional thinking.

What did you do on your last birthday?

Went out to dinner with my family.

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Author Bio and Links:

A former psychologist, Normandie has always been fascinated by human behavior. She loves writing quirky characters that are all too human. Fiber arts, baking, and Pinterest are a few of her favorite pastimes. She lives on a farm with a passel of kids, an adorable husband, and a pet pig who’s crazy for Red Bull.

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