Bartolomeo Ship Novels & Stories

“Is this the ship? “ Kataleya said indignantly. Igor: “ Yes! Zeuck: “ What's wrong? Kataleya got even closer to the ship: “ It looks sinister to me! Belton: “ Hahaha Igor: “ It's the only ship we found! Francie: “ But Kataleya is right! What is sinister is sinister! Graden: “ Well, the ship, it looks old to me, but everything is in order! We tried it and everything works! Jonnathan: “ Well, we have no choice either!

The Concordia, Twelve Hundred Years Before The bow of the ship was carved into the shape of a ferocious bare-breasted woman, her sharply pointed vampire teeth displayed by a savage snarl and her twisting hair blowing out around her in exquisite detail. “She is beautiful,” Sigrid exclaimed in awe looking up as their rowboat skirted the boat. “I did not see her… Or was it another ship?” She looked at the other ships anchored in the bay around them. Like ant-trails across the water, the rowboats transporting passengers and supplies wove through the waves to the other vessels.

“And she had no hand in the death of your, mind I add, her mother too. The woman died by the man that we all deem an enemy, and unfortunately…” “His son is her mate,” I said, stopping the man. “Do not think me a fool. Bartolomeo has worked with his mate’s murderer, knowing that he has killed her. He chose his profit over my mother’s death, the woman that he called a lover, and rather than doing everything that YOU can to avenge your daughter, you both held me back.”

A warning. I grip the railing harder, heart pounding. The cargo ship looms ahead, massive and slow, vulnerable. And then—floodlights blaze from the starboard side. Another vessel emerges from the dark. Sleek, black, marked with a single insignia. The Vitale crest. I exhale, part relief, part dread. The new ship surges between the cargo and the attackers. Its guns roar, tearing into the speedboats with terrifying precision. Engines sputter, hulls splinter, screams cut through the air. Within minutes, the would-be raiders are retreating, limping into the night.

Yet here, these villainous Baron Sunders soldiers just didn’t cared at all, they just started killing everything as they pleased. “[Major Fontana!…the 4th ship is lost!…all the crew on top of it expect for our sailors and soldiers were barely alive!!…the 3rd ship is under hard assault at all sides!….Sir Alfred Monticello were defending the top deck along with all the Sailors and soldiers to the best of their abilities!……His Highness president….he is currently keeping the 4th ship close by to the 3rd ship….using a rope on his own!!……we must hurry!!!…]”.(Scout Sailor)

I started to lean forward again, greedy for more of his lips on mine when the car came to a halt. "We are here." Alpha Cole muttered, his voice husky and making my womanhood clench. Then he cleared his throat and pushed a button, surprise flickering in my eyes as I took in the view in front of us. We were on a shore, and the most luxurious white ship I ever set my eyes on stood before us. On the body was inscribed the words, 'Roman.' Hell, a date on a ship?

“Lady Ever—” “No names.” Becky lifted a hand without slowing. “Not mine. Not yours. Not tonight.” The man bowed his head. “As you wish.” “Is the ship ready?” “Aye.” He jerked his chin toward the vessel moored at the far end of the dock. It was a weather-beaten cargo ship, hull patched, sails rolled, the Eastwind insignia freshly painted over with a darker, unfamiliar crest. “False flag, false registry, false manifests. No one’ll track where she’s goin’.”

Beatrice perched on the sofa opposite, leaning forward in anticipation. “Me an’ Agnes dug deep an’ uncovered a sorry tale, make no mistake,” Maud said quietly. “The ship was called The Raven. A galleon that sank off the coast of Ashby-on-Sea in 1588. Captain was a fella by the name of Jackson Crane. A God-fearin’ man, like many around them times. Maybe that explains why folk did what they did, but havin’ a reason don’t make everythin’ ye do in life right.” Beatrice frowned. “What do you mean?”

"You're welcome. So, Captain Baddo, what's so important that it brought you and Big Berta all the way out to this corner of the Confederacy?" Baddo gulped. He was tall and very thin. His Adam's apple rose and fell. The crew called the freighter Big Berta, but her official name was the Bellbota IV, which indicated that Doug Douglas had fairly good data, and knew where she was supposed to be. Give or take a few light years. The officer jerked his head toward the stern. "It will be easier if I showed you. Please follow me". The industrialist followed the nearly skeletal officer down a well maintained corridor, noted that his olfactory receptors had detected the presence of a highly spiced Marti

"As of now, Octavio will take her place." "I do not agree!" Bartolomeo scoffed again, and took my hand, so that I would feel safe. But his brother was a damned rat who was looking for my downfall and Bartolomeo's along with it. Lorenzo firmly pounded the boardroom table and snorted. "Then sell your shares, dear brother, and get out of here. You no longer have anything to do in this place." Bartolomeo frowned, and I hadn't seen him so defeated in a long time.