Coven

I

The worst curse God could have inflicted upon women is our insatiable attraction to menfolk. Animals who think with their other heads first, who would rather fight than discuss to resolve their commonplace issues. They use their brute strength to keep women as vessels for their desires.

No more. I have made the mistake of getting married, multiple times over. Suffice it to say, my latest husband found himself at the bottom of the sea years ago. And I took his ship.

As luck would have it, I am not the only woman who took her own (and her husband's) life into her own hands. The more ports I arrived at, the larger my crew became.

We are the Coven, the most feared band of witches the Caribbean has ever known. Or, at least, that's what the men have deemed us. Harpies that could never be loved, demons created by Poseidon himself.

And why? Because we take a week of shore leave every month? We don't rape and pillage towns? We make our living off of hard-earned gold instead of corsets? We smuggle, barter, protect merchants, and hardly see combat except for when a band of men decides that their ego needs to be stroked by dominating women (and they always, always lose).

Count me blessed.