Title: BECOMING HOOK
Genre: Fantasy Pre-telling/LGTB
Word Count: 62,000
When sixteen-year-old James Allison (Jas) joins her Uncle Blackbeard’s crew, it’s for money to start a new life and stop living as a boy. When stranded in Neverland and a flying boy poisons Blackbeard, the only thing she wants is a cure to save him.
Daring to take on the island, Jas sets out only to be captured by Peter and the Lost Boys. All seems lost – until a native, Tiger Lily, offers to help. In exchange, Jas and the pirates must never return. The girls’ journey leads to friendship and something Jas can’t deny – she’s is falling in love with Lily. Talk of war between the Indians and pirates brews as they race to find the cure amid interference from psychotic Peter. Jealousy drives Jas and Peter towards battle and it’s love that’ll tear Neverland apart. Jas must become the pirate she was meant to be or lose everything.
February 1718 – 48.95° N 6.7° E
The long bandage squeezes my breasts but I pull it tighter – until the binding digs in and pinches my skin. Tucking the end in, I run my hands over my chest to make sure it’s smooth and flat. I sigh. I’m left with two small slopes above a narrow waist and curved hips and pale skin. The ship creeks, mocking my frustration.
“Where did that ribbon run of to?” I mutter and pull apart my bed. Nothing. I drop to my knees and search the floorboards. My room on the quarter deck is no bigger than a matchbox, yet I manage to constantly misplace the last ribbon I own. I sit back on my heels, thinking back to where I last had it. Ah ha! I jump up and open the door adjoining the Captain’s quarters. Light pours through the bay windows and stretches across the room, highlighting the table covered in nautical and star charts. I spot the red ribbon laying on top.
“Should you be walking around like that?” Disgust drips from the words. I glance at the lantern dangling in the center of the room as I stride through. Wide eyes peer out from a little face with long buttery hair falling behind her wings.
Her quip at my half dressed state jabs at me. “Shouldn’t you be fluttering those wings of yours? You haven’t met your dust quota for the day,” I retort, snatching up the ribbon.