Still, I liked the cover design, I’d heard good things about the book and about Levenseller generally, and I was excited by the prospect of female pirates so I figured I’d ignore that gut feeling and press forward. My immediate reaction is to recoil slightly, flinching from what feels like false feminism. There’s something very off-putting to me about those titles. It’s not as common now, but for a while it was a thing to ostensibly name a novel for a female character but in the same breath define said woman by her relationship to a man. At the same time, though, I was leery of the title.

On one hand, pirates! The blurb on the cover promised me a female Captain Jack Sparrow, and that struck me as a fun idea. I wasn’t entirely sure what to think of Daughter of the Pirate King before I began it. For the most part they’re vague or obvious or both, but still. However, there is something-or rather, some one-she did not count on: Riden, the first mate who seems able to see through her deceptions and who she finds unexpectedly charming. Alosa is stronger and more skilled than any other pirate, so she is confident in her ability to accomplish her mission quickly and easily. Alosa is the daughter of the pirate king, and she has gotten herself intentionally kidnapped by the son of powerful pirate lord so that she can steal a valuable map fragment that will lead her father to a hidden island guarded by sirens and home to untold treasures.

Pirate daughter book