RECKLESS, first Exley & Dyer gay transvestite pirate romp

RECKLESS
JESS WHITECROFT (Exley & Dyer #1)
Self-published (non-affiliate Amazon link)
$3.99 Kindle edition, available now

Rating: 4* of five

The Publisher Says: When pirate Henry Dyer’s ship captures the French frigate Sans Souci, nobody seems to know why Captain Buckler has been chasing such a neglected and unprepossessing prize ship. The puzzle only gets more perplexing when they take the ship and find an English girl in leg irons.

It’s an old and popular love story—the pirate and the virgin who steals his heart away, only this time the pirate is the virgin and the girl isn’t a girl at all. She is James ‘Jem’ Exley, thief, molly, occasional actor and full time transvestite. Jettisoned to the New World in order to spare his aristocratic family any further disgrace, Jem is glamorous, flamboyant and fascinating.

At only nineteen, Henry is determined to prove himself a man one way or the other, and is astonished to find that nothing makes him feel like more of a man than his increasingly reckless passion for Jem. As their love leads them into trouble, the mysterious circumstances of Jem’s capture lead Henry deeper into a mystery that not only upends his whole world, but sees them running for their lives across the Caribbean.

Stolen jewels, scheming Captains and devious drag artists–Black Sails meets Blackadder in this steamy eighteenth century romp from the author of These Violent Delights and Going Sasquatch.

THIS WAS A GIVEAWAY ON AMAZON. THANK YOU.

My Review: Among the many possible variants of “surprised by love” that exist, this one is a less-than-ordinary choice to use. Henry Dyer, pirate, is not the usual hero; Jem Exley, “damsel” in very deep distress, is not the usual heroine. I’m not sure that a pirate in eighteenth-century Caribbean waters would’ve known the word “transvestite” but it’s clearly a concept any moderately immoral character would’ve encountered long ago, so I’ll go with its being used in this context without crabbing too much. The response to it in the flesh was as reasoned and reasonable as I’d’ve expected it to be.

But the molly herself? That backstory! What a way to make a character fly off the page and into my heart! The stakes couldn’t possibly be higher than “being myself would cost me my life but there is no one else I could be so, so be it.” There’s a huge softness in my readerly heart for characters who take agency and act with decision to make their Otherness into a way of being in the world that wants them to fail.

While making myself comfortable in this world, I was often thinking, “what is it here that Author Whitecroft is trying to tell me in the choices?” Usually that means I’m insufficiently wrapped in the story; here, I was reasonably sure I was being led somewhere but not sure enough of where to simply sit back and enjoy the ride. But, as the story unfolds, there is simply nothing for it but to…simply sit back and enjoy the ride. I was all up in this story from chapter two forwards. The action, my dears, simply does not let up. Whee!

The reason that elicits a "Whee!" from my ever-darkening heat-pump (can't rightly call it a heart anymore) is that I am all about quests, mysteries, puzzles in my fiction. I am also an avid follower of Ma'at, I like order. Just not the order most of y'all like...conformity ≠ order. Sameness is not safety. Look at the burgeoning problems presented by monoculture: Cavendish bananas, the ones in your grocery store, are going extinct because they're clones, identical plants, and they've been targeted by a rot that is unfixable. The precise same thing happened to the Gros Michel bananas of my childhood. (BTW the reason artificial banana flavor tastes like it does is that they were aiming for the more powerful taste of the Gros Michel variant.)

Bananas? What the hell...oh right, sameness. Anyway, this book demonstrates a strong affinity for Ma'at in her "spirit in which justice was applied rather than the detailed legalistic exposition of rules" sense. The spirit of Justice demands that Jem get his Henry into bed, into the strange and ever-shifting constellation of acts and demands and solutions that make up a transvestite prostitute thief's life in a time where the mere determination that those things constitute an identity not a pathology was inconceivable. Since this story represents a modern take on the topic, they *do* end up constituting an identity. And do you know what? I am just fine with that. As a gay man of a certain age, whose own family contains other gay men even older than I, it's not in the least inconceivable (and I do know what that word means) that people very like Henry and Jem existed and throve despite their absence of trace evidence in the historical record.

The resolution of this story's plot leaves me disposed to seek out the sequel in hopes that the author's wells have not run dry regarding the Life Piratical of Jem and Henry.