Authors: Nicole Castroman
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384 PAGES
The pirate Blackbeard was known for striking fear
FEBRUARY
into the hearts of even the bravest sailors. But once, he was just 2016
a young man who dreamed of abandoning his rigid life to chase
An Advance Reviewer Copy
________
adventure in faraway lands.
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Nothing could stop him—until he met the one girl who would
change everything.
EDWARD “TEACH” DRUMMOND, SON OF ONE OF BRISTOL’S RICHEST
merchants, has returned from a year at sea to find his life in shambles.
Betrothed to a girl he doesn’t love and sick of the high society he was born into, Teach dreams of returning to the vast ocean he calls home. There’s just one problem: convincing his father to let him leave and never come back.
Following her parents’ deaths, Anne Barrett is left penniless. Though she’s barely worked a day in her life, Anne takes a job as a maid in the home of Master Drummond. Lonely days stretch into weeks and Anne longs for escape. How will she ever realize her dream of sailing to Curaçao—where her mother was born—when she’s stuck in England?
From the moment Teach and Anne meet, they set the world ablaze.
Drawn together by a shared desire for freedom, but kept apart by Teach’s B L A C K H E A R T S
father, their love is as passionate as it is forbidden. Faced with an impossible choice, Teach and Anne must decide whether to chase their dreams and go, or follow their hearts and stay.
Nicole Castroman received her BA from Brigham Young University and currently lives with her husband and two children in Georgia.
Blackhearts
is her first novel.
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a novel by
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ISBN 978-1-4814-5588-6
N I C O L E C A S T R O M A N
Cover designed by Karina Granda
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ADVANCE REVIEWER COPY
TITLE: Blackhearts
AUTHOR: Nicole Castroman
IMPRINT: Simon Pulse
ON-SALE DATE: 2/9/16
ISBN: 978-1-4814-3269-6
FORMAT: Hardcover
PRICE: $17.99 U.S./$22.99 Can.
AGES: 14 up
PAGES: 384
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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For my mom, Doris,
for always telling me I should write.
And for my husband, Miguel,
for making it possible for me to do just that.
C H A P T E R 1
Anne
Bristol, England 1697
After Anne’s father died, her mother often said that sorrow was
the only sun that rose for them. Her mother had since followed
him into the darkness of death, leaving Anne to face the dawn
alone.
That morning was no different, the thick clouds overhead
were determined once again to release their pent-up frustration
on her. In the crowded marketplace and its stalls, the air smelled of sweet water on damp stone and wood, accompanied by the
tang of blood.
Other maids and cooks from the large homes in the city
bartered and bought, their weary voices calling for pheasant,
venison, and veal. Anne stood in line with her pail of fruits and vegetables, hoping she wasn’t too late to get the better cuts of meat. At last she stepped up to the butcher, the many coins in
her pocket reminding her of her errand’s importance.
1
The butcher winked, his brown eyes almost black. “Good to see you, Anne. What’ll it be today?”
“Master Drummond wants venison tonight,” she said,
inspecting the haunches and shoulders hanging from the stall’s
center beam. The butcher’s eyes followed her with the same
consideration. With his fair hair, some might have called him
handsome, but she only saw his yellowed teeth and smelled his
rank breath. If Master Drummond hadn’t insisted she buy from
this particular butcher, she would have found a different one
long ago. He was at least twice her sixteen years, and though his apron was clean, the look on his face was not.
“Aye, his son is coming home, isn’t he?” he said, leaning
forward across the table. “Been gone a year at sea.”
Anne took a step back, pulling her shawl more firmly around
her, and finally met his gaze. “Yes, which means there’s no time to waste. I must return to the house as quickly as possible. I’ll take that one,” she said, pointing to a fleshy red hindquarter.
The name Drummond was always on someone’s lips, for
Richard Drummond was one of the wealthiest merchants in the
city. In four weeks’ time one of the largest ships ever built, the
Deliverance
, would set sail from Bristol. It was Master Drummond’s showpiece.
“Oi, you can’t have that one. This one’ll have to do,” the
butcher said, poking a knife into a thin portion of meat in front of him. It was old, the flesh tough and hard, the fat contracted.
Anne’s face flushed with anger, and she wished for the
2
hundredth time that she could purchase elsewhere. “And why would I want that piece?” she asked sharply. “Do you know
what the master would do if I served that for dinner tonight?”
The butcher grinned. “I know what I’d do,” he said.
Gritting her teeth, she gave him what she hoped was a
haughty look. “What else do you have?”
Unexpectedly, he grabbed her arm, pulling her close so that
her pail hit the table, spilling the produce onto the cobblestones beneath their feet.
“Don’t act so high and mighty with me. I’ve already told
you. I’ll give you the best cuts, but this time it’ll cost you a little extra,” he sneered. “I’ve been a patient man. If you want to please your master, you’re going to have to please me first.”
Like a dragonfly caught under glass, her heart fluttered.
She’d become accustomed to his lewd suggestions, but the grip
of his grimy fingers on her arm filled her with a new sense of
panic.
“You can please yourself,” she hissed, wrenching her arm
out of his grasp. With shaking hands she quickly picked up
the fruits and vegetables, not bothering to wipe the dirt from
their skins. The butcher laughed, an ugly sound that made her
stomach churn. She glared at him, turned on her heel, and bar-
reled through the crowd in an attempt to put as much distance