Enter the Pistollera by Jasiah Witkofsky

Author:Jasiah Witkofsky
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adventure, Swashbuckling, Baroque, Female Protagonist, Action
Publisher: Nordic Press
Published: 2023-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

SHE WAS NOT CLAUSTROPHOBIC or afraid of the dark, nonetheless, this was most definitely an uncomfortable predicament. Dolores Llorenc reluctantly allowed the men escorting her to pull a bag over her head to meet her potential employers at a secret location. But Dolores was the Purple Pistollera and she did not earn that title without a clever mind, so she had her compatriot, Jerome, follow from a distance.

Blinded and guided into a horse-drawn carriage, she took a seat across from one of her deliverers and felt the cart lurch into motion. Breathing slow to calm her racing heart, she shut her useless eyes to allow other sensations an opportunity to take primacy.

Counting her heartbeats, she estimated the journey was not far distant from their meeting point, less than half a league distant. Her fellow passenger gently took her hand and led her out of the cart, where she heard a door unlatch. Stepping downward, she determined the destination in which she headed lay underground in some basement or cellar. Another door opened and the sound of many voices sent a cacophony to her ears before the blinding hood was removed from Dolores’s striking features.

The room was packed with a variety of unsavory scoundrels, bar wenches, brutes, connivers, and sea bandits from around the globe. The smokes of a multitude of intoxicants hazed the upper half of the crowded, dimly lit chamber, wine and liqueurs flowing freely. At the far end of a large oak table sat two identical women eyeing the newly arrived Dolores, one of which opened her painted lips to address the Pistollera.

“Take a seat, Senorita. You grace our presence with much anticipated pleasure.”

Dolores rested her posterior upon a chair near the mirrored sisters and attempted to differentiate the two. The gorgeous siblings shared the obvious Spanish characteristics with the Pistollera, dark of hair and bronze complected. Both women were petite in stature but sat taller than Dolores by a finger’s width. She guessed their ages surpassed her own by less than a decade, middle aged but still in their prime. Both shared a sinister and seductive gaze between hoop-pierced ears. They donned matching red and black, puff-and-slashed tunics and crimson scarves kept their raven tresses from obscuring their vision. Tattooed upon the inner flesh of their right forearms, the imprint of blood-drenched daggers. Their left arms bore separate halves of a split heart, the most discernable difference between the two.

The speaker introduced themselves, welcoming their oddly procured guest. “Greetings Lady Llorenc of Catalonia, I am Juna, and this is my sister Maya, fortuitously born between the cusps of the two months, never separated by more than an arm’s length.” She clapped her sister’s back in the spirit of camaraderie, “We are the Toledo Twins, and we are overjoyed to meet the Girluerra of Genoa, as you are known to the west. Pour the dear lass a drink, Havi.”

A bald, muscle-bound giant of a man delicately poured Dolores wine from an enormous ceramic jug as she responded. “I would not call myself a warrior, but I am a woman of means and well-connected, truth be told.

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