The Vampire’s Pirate (book 1) The Pirate’s Vampire (book 2) By Liv Rancourt, 2021 Four stars
I reviewed these together because they start and finish the same tale, and both are fairly short—easy to read as one extended novel. Although the author fondly refers to them as “a little bit of fluff,” I think they’re rather better than that. Rancourt manages to imagine the world of New Orleans in 1805 and 1806—just a few years after Thomas Jefferson negotiates the purchase of the Louisiana Territory from a cash-strapped Napoleon. She gets the details down very nicely. The city is still small and colonial, a mixture of Spanish and French. It’s port on the Mississippi is already an important trade route to the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean. This is a place on the verge of greatness, and a wide range of people are gathering there to be part of it.
A two-hundred-year-old Irish-born vampire, Daire Malone, is trying to settle into this rough little city. He’s accompanied by his vampire daughter Dorothea Browne, and her companion Libbie Leloup. As Libbie’s name might suggest, she is no ordinary young woman, either. Daire is haunted by a rough start and an abusive longtime enthrallment to his creator; but we get to know the kind of man is truly is.
A command invitation from a female vampire who fancies herself the local queen—something Daire is not happy about—takes the trio to a brand-new Creole plantation house miles outside of town on the bayou. There they meet Captain Thomas Clifton, and his peg-legged first mate, Cager. Clifton is a pirate—or, more legally recognized as a French agent, and thus a privateer. The captain is not happy with Mlle. Arsenault’s invitation either, as he enjoys his freedom to sail and sell and trade. Clifton is a man of honor and mercy (just remember that America’s John Hancock was, himself, a privateer).
Rancourt keeps the story focused, bringing in allusions to dark magic and enslavement. The Creole culture of New Orleans is particularly adaptable to the author’s narrative choices. The would-be vampire queen is a problem. Captain Clifton’s long absences at sea is another one. Daire and his little family must determine where their connection to the doughty sea captain and his loyal crew will take them. Neither Malone nor Clifton quite feel they deserve any sort of happiness, and yet each knows that the other must, somehow, play a part in his life.
This is a story that could be hammy and absurd, and somehow Rancourt makes it tender and action-packed, and weirdly plausible. OK, it’s not “Mutiny on the Bounty,” but then again, who cares? I enjoyed these books immensely.
The Pirate’s Vampire (book 2)
By Liv Rancourt, 2021
Four stars
I reviewed these together because they start and finish the same tale, and both are fairly short—easy to read as one extended novel. Although the author fondly refers to them as “a little bit of fluff,” I think they’re rather better than that. Rancourt manages to imagine the world of New Orleans in 1805 and 1806—just a few years after Thomas Jefferson negotiates the purchase of the Louisiana Territory from a cash-strapped Napoleon. She gets the details down very nicely. The city is still small and colonial, a mixture of Spanish and French. It’s port on the Mississippi is already an important trade route to the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean. This is a place on the verge of greatness, and a wide range of people are gathering there to be part of it.
A two-hundred-year-old Irish-born vampire, Daire Malone, is trying to settle into this rough little city. He’s accompanied by his vampire daughter Dorothea Browne, and her companion Libbie Leloup. As Libbie’s name might suggest, she is no ordinary young woman, either. Daire is haunted by a rough start and an abusive longtime enthrallment to his creator; but we get to know the kind of man is truly is.
A command invitation from a female vampire who fancies herself the local queen—something Daire is not happy about—takes the trio to a brand-new Creole plantation house miles outside of town on the bayou. There they meet Captain Thomas Clifton, and his peg-legged first mate, Cager. Clifton is a pirate—or, more legally recognized as a French agent, and thus a privateer. The captain is not happy with Mlle. Arsenault’s invitation either, as he enjoys his freedom to sail and sell and trade. Clifton is a man of honor and mercy (just remember that America’s John Hancock was, himself, a privateer).
Rancourt keeps the story focused, bringing in allusions to dark magic and enslavement. The Creole culture of New Orleans is particularly adaptable to the author’s narrative choices. The would-be vampire queen is a problem. Captain Clifton’s long absences at sea is another one. Daire and his little family must determine where their connection to the doughty sea captain and his loyal crew will take them. Neither Malone nor Clifton quite feel they deserve any sort of happiness, and yet each knows that the other must, somehow, play a part in his life.
This is a story that could be hammy and absurd, and somehow Rancourt makes it tender and action-packed, and weirdly plausible. OK, it’s not “Mutiny on the Bounty,” but then again, who cares? I enjoyed these books immensely.