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    No Quarter: Wenches - Volume 4: No Quarter: Wenches, #4
    No Quarter: Wenches - Volume 4: No Quarter: Wenches, #4
    No Quarter: Wenches - Volume 4: No Quarter: Wenches, #4
    Ebook146 pages1 hour

    No Quarter: Wenches - Volume 4: No Quarter: Wenches, #4

    By MJL Evans and GM O'Connor

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    About this ebook

    Released for the first time with illustrations!

     

    Volume 4 of 5 begins with repercussions for the murder of Bartolomeo Portuguese, which ripples through the Brethren of the Coast. A secret network of women is formed deep beneath the Swiftsure Tavern in the Wenches' Cauldron. Port Royal awaits the arrival of the Spanish Armada, while Laurens de Graaf's buccaneers prepare to strike as tensions boil over in the wickedest city on earth.

     

    Series Description:

    Ye be warned - this series contains sexual situations, drug usage, foul language, crude humor, and beaky parrots.

    In 1689, Atia Crisp finds herself imprisoned in the wickedest city on earth, Port Royal, Jamaica, while the refugees from Strangewayes's plantation in the Blue Mountains are on the run and seeking a new home, deep in the Caribbean. Captain Jean-Paul la Roche must get them to safety and find a way to liberate the woman he loves while waging a war against the English with the pirate Laurens de Graaf.

    While besieged people suffer and starve, a group of women form a secret and illegal society deep from within the bowels of the city called: WENCH. A network that deals with smugglers, merchants, cutthroats and thieves. Dragged into the struggle for supremacy of the Caribbean, the women are divided and find themselves engulfed in bloodshed. The pirates of Port Royal and former enemies may be their only hope of escape.

    Hell hath no fury like a cross wench!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMJL Evans and GM O'Connor
    Release dateMay 25, 2017
    ISBN9781988616094
    No Quarter: Wenches - Volume 4: No Quarter: Wenches, #4
    Author

    MJL Evans

    MJL Evans is an Indie Author/Publisher and co-author of the 6-part series, No Quarter: Dominium. Future endeavours include co-authoring the books No Quarter: WENCH and No Quarter: The Dirge. She also hopes to have her books translated in various languages including French.MJL Evans is also a writer of romance and relationship articles featured in publications like Monday Magazine in November 2004 and again in February 2006, she writes fiction, historical fiction, erotica and humour. Published in the November 2014 issue of Flash Fiction Magazine, Red Dragon is vibrant piece of micro-fiction that delves into Victoria BC in the 1860s, when it was the opium capital of the New World.A native of Victoria, British Columbia, MJL Evans studied English at Victoria School of Writing and Camosun College. Not only is she passionate about her written expression, she is enthusiastic about her visual art masterpieces she has created over the past 20 years and has over 60 paintings to her credit. MJL Evans is also a lover of film, independent, foreign, and cult. Her favorites include: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Nymphomaniac, Secret Window, The Brood, Le Pacte des loups, Mesrine: L'Instinct De Mort and many others.

    Read more from Mjl Evans

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      Book preview

      No Quarter - MJL Evans

      No Quarter - Wenches

      Volume 4

      By MJL Evans and GM O’Connor

      NO QUARTER SERIES COPYRIGHT @ 2014

      No Quarter: Wenches COPYRIGHT @ 2017 MJL Evans and GM O’Connor

      ISBN: 978-1-988616-09-4

      Artwork: GM O’Connor

      E-Book Production: MJL Evans

      All rights are reserved to the authors. No part of this ebook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

      MJL EVANS wanted to be a writer since she was ten years old and in 2014 she finally got her act together and pursued her dream. She is now the author of No Quarter: Dominium and No Quarter: Wenches. A huge fan of Monty Python, Red Dwarf, and other BBC shows, her time is devoted to acrylic, oil and watercolor painting, catering to her two senior cats and of course, writing.

      You can connect with MJL Evans on Twitter at @artistmjlevans or noquarterseries@gmail.com

      GM O’CONNOR is a huge movie fan, writer and visual artist. A lover of sci-fi and history, half his brain lives in the 17th century while the other half sails perpetually through space. He is now the author of No Quarter: Dominium and No Quarter: Wenches. He hopes to one day bring the No Quarter Series to film and/or graphic novel format.

      You can connect with GM O’Connor on Twitter at @gm_oconnor or noquarterseries@gmail.com

      CHAPTER ONE

      Moving Up in the World

      ATIA PLACED HER hand on the window of Widow Bell’s spare bedroom. Her breath against the surface, made the world look hazy. A drifting hull with broken masts glided towards the huge citadel of Fort Charles. While the battery at Morgan’s Line, pointed its cannons to the sea.

      Her expression was slack and her eyes stung. So, how long have you known? Atia pulled away from the glass to watch Rosie as she wept into a handkerchief.

      Recently some fishermen found her. I’m so sorry.

      Widow Bell entered with tea and biscuits on a silver tray.

      Rosie blew her nose. I had to tell her about her sister. She was determined to go look for her.

      Atia’s eyes shifted to the pair. You both knew?

      Widow Bell set the tray down and sat beside her on the window bench. We thought it best to wait, since you’d lost the baby.

      Atia hugged her knees to her chest. Was it Slasher Al?

      Aye. That’s what they say.

      The bell to the front door chimed.

      Widow Bell patted Atia’s knee and stood. Try to eat something. She eyed Rosie. Stay with her.

      Aye, I’ll look after ya, Atia. Rosie rubbed her eyes.

      Widow Bell’s footsteps creaked on the stairs.

      I come with news for Atia, a familiar Scottish accent declared.

      Widow Bell released an exhausted sigh and opened the door. Well, she’s upstairs.

      Nessie rushed in and darted up the steps.

      So much for secrecy, Widow Bell huffed.

      Nessie entered the room and rushed over to give Atia and Rosie a hug.

      I know she’s dead, Nessie, Atia said.

      Nessie gave Rosie a look. Ya told her?

      Ya knew as well! Atia shrieked indignantly.

      Nessie’s cheeks flared. No, no. It’s all over the docks.

      Ya bloody knew and none o’ya told me. Atia rose. I’m getting out of here.

      Try to stay calm, Rosie soothed.

      Calm? Calm, ya say! Atia went to grab her cloak. I must find me brothers. Me whole family, they’re all gone but me brothers. We’re gonna cut ’em bastards into little pieces. I’m gonna cut him up!

      Rosie blocked the door. Take it easy.

      There’s more. Nessie swallowed hard. I’ve come to tell ya that Glenda had to give up the room at the Wild Orchid.

      My room? Rosie exclaimed. No!

      My room, ya mean, Atia said.

      She had too. Captain Longstaff’s strumpet bitch wants it. She’s paid for it for the next six months. We gotta clear out yer belongings, yers and Atia’s.

      Widow Bell entered, bringing in another plateful of biscuits and tea cakes. Well, don’t bring it here, we’ve got enough suspicion pointing in our direction. She set the plate down beside the other full plate of goodies. What about the Swiftsure?

      All the rooms are booked, Nessie said and thought for a moment. There’s the old bake house. The secret room.

      Widow Bell’s eyes narrowed. What secret room?

      There’s a secret room under the tavern that used to be a shipping office until they built the Wherry Bridge.

      They didn’t tear it down?

      Nay, they built atop it.

      Widow Bell nodded. Move all your stuff there. Take a wherryman’s coach. I can’t drive you, but I’ll meet you at the Swiftsure tonight. I want to see this room for myself.

      I’m coming with you, Atia insisted.

      It’s better you stay here, Widow Bell said. You’re fragile and you can’t be seen.

      I got no reason left to hide. Weakness forced Atia to sit back down.

      Well, I got plenty of reasons myself, my family is at risk, so, you can’t get caught. Widow Bell paused. Your Capitaine knows patience when it comes to revenge.

      Atia cocked her head. The man who tried to invade Jamaica, alone?

      Widow Bell looked like she was about to agree. We’ll find your brothers, Atia. Just rest for now. Please.

      Nessie tapped Rosie’s shoulder. We gotta go get yer stuff outta there. Atia’s too. She turned to Widow Bell. Meet us by the back stairs at eight bells.

      Ya better go now, Atia addressed Rosie.

      Are ya sure? I could stay a while longer. You’ll be all right, Atia?

      Go, Rosie, love. I’ll see ya later. Clear out my stuff for me.

      I will.

      Nessie and Rosie left the room and Atia stared out the window. She drew the symbol of an ankh on the dusty glass.

      I’m so sorry about your sister, dear, Widow Bell said.

      So am I.

      The sound of a door slamming downstairs and who are you? drew Widow Bell. It’s fine, Bizy, they’re with me. Just running an errand. Off ya go, girls. Another door banged. You’re back early.

      Jamie spotted a wreck to the south, Bizy said. Yer not holding meetings are ya?

      Footsteps progressed up the stairs.

      I said no going upstairs! Widow Bell yelled.

      Why not? Bizy questioned. What’s up there?

      Bizy’s children, Jamie and Isabella entered the room. Widow Bell spoke of them before. Isabella stood with her mouth ajar at the sight of Atia.

      Ya ready to catch flies, love?

      What are you doing in here?

      She’s a strumpet, ain’t she? Jamie went to open the drawer to retrieve a telescope.

      Bizy and Widow Bell arrived.

      A wench without a home, Widow Bell explained. She needs a place to stay for a few days.

      Wench? I’m moving up in the world, Atia spoke dryly. Do I hear trollop, next?

      Jamie opened the window to the water. It is! Look, it’s a wreck! They all gazed out to see a hull drifting in. People gathered on the beach and boats were venturing out. A schooner, it looks like. Betcha she’s fast. Maybe it’s a pirate?

      Fast? Isabella scoffed. It ain’t got no masts.

      On a good day, ya lousy lewdster!

      Don’t call me that, dogboy, or I’ll give ya another spit shine!

      Jamie, don’t call your sister that! And don’t call him that neither! Bizy met Widow Bell’s glance. What the hell is a spit shine?

      Atia covered her mouth to hide a laugh, while tears prickled in her eyes. She wanted to see her brothers so badly that her chest ached.

      Jamie raced back downstairs and Isabella chased him.

      Not a word about our guest, here. Widow Bell faced Bizy’s scrutiny. We had to keep her here a while. Mrs. Beazley had a bit of trouble. She’s said to be dead, this one.

      I know who she is, I have seen her before. Don’t think I’m not pleased you’re alive, Atia. I am. But, how did you get here?

      You wasn’t supposed to be home, yet, Widow Bell asserted.

      But why here, Easy? You know Bleedin Art’s watching. She’s dangerous. My children’s safety is at stake. How can we keep it a secret? She has to go.

      Beckford is searching Mrs. Beazley’s house. He discovered Rosie Burghill staying there, we had no choice but to hire her on.

      Don’t tell me you’ve been protecting her too! Bizy snapped. How long has this been going on?

      She’s hiding here for a short while. Ya weren’t supposed to know she was here. Now, if everyone thinks she’s dead, she’s safe, Widow Bell crossed arms. The upstairs room is out of the way, no one comes up here, it’s my own personal room.

      Bizy looked through the window. There’s Beckford and Bleedin Art coming this way.

      Then Mrs. Beazley owes our derelict friend a thank you.

      I better go too. Bizy moved to the door. The boy’s liable to tell them all about the red-headed wench upstairs.

      Right. A lot safer here, it is. I should hang myself and save time, Atia said scathingly. "I told ya I’d get discovered. First day is less than I expected but, c’est la vie."

      Bizy left.

      They won’t tell anyone you’re up here. This is the best place for you, right now.

      It might be better if I went someplace quieter, a tavern perhaps?

      Bizy followed Jamie down the Coal Lane to the beach. Former fyre-master Keene, Beckford and White, peered through telescopes at the hulk.

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