Tag Archives: #historicalromance

Happy New Year Hop!

happy-new-year-hop

Welcome to the Happy New Year Facebook Hop,

hosted by Love Kissed Book Bargains!

With tons of prizes from over 150 authors and bloggers, including Amazon gift cards, it’s a great way to spend your New Year’s Weekend!

Don’t miss out! Visit one, or all to participate. Easy entries.

Meet some new authors! Discover some awesome blogs.

Most of all…have fun!

 

In case of a broken link, visit the website for a complete list of participants:

http://lovekissedbookbargains.com/join-the-happy-new-year-hop-here/

Today I’m giving away a  digital copy of Paper Love and a matching bookmark and paper crane. Please read the instructions below carefully so you’re not disqualified!!!

  

  1. Go to my page, give it some love. 

  2. Subscribe to my newsletter: http://www.subscribepage.com/k3f1z5

  3. Comment: What is your favorite winter sport? Visit the next page on the hop: Abrianna Denae http://www.facebook.com/abridenae

The Happy New Year Hop starts here!

 

Love Across Time: Historical Romance and Time Travel

Continue reading Love Across Time: Historical Romance and Time Travel

A Moment Forever by Cat Gardiner

Hi readers! We all know how much I love World War II. I met another author who shares my passion for this time period. She does a little mix-up between the present and past, as I did with Dante’s Gift. I really think you’ll like this. My review will be coming soon, I’m almost finished. For now, check out Cat’s intriguing article that includes excerpts from the novel. Comment below for a chance to win a copy. Or be spontaneous and just buy it. You won’t be disappointed. 

A Moment Forever Cover LARGE EBOOK copy.jpg

In the summer of 1992, a young writer is bequeathed the abandoned home of a great-uncle she never knew. The house has a romantic history and is unlike any home she has ever seen. Juliana Martel felt as though she stepped into a time capsule—a snapshot of 1942. The epic romance—and heartache—of the former occupant unfold through reading his wartime letters found in the attic, compelling her on a quest to construct the man. His life, as well as his sweetheart’s, during the Second World War were as mysterious as his disappearance in 1950.

Carrying her own pain inflicted by the abandonment of her mother and unexpected death of her father, Juliana embarks on a journalist’s dream to find her great-uncle and the woman he once loved. Enlisting the reluctant assistance of a man whose family is closely related to the secrets, she uncovers the carefully hidden events of her great-uncle’s and others’ lives – and will ultimately change her own with their discovery.

This story of undying love, born amidst the darkest era in modern history, unfolded on the breathtaking Gold Coast of Long Island in 1942. A Jewish, Army Air Forces pilot and an enchanting society debutante—young lovers—deception—and a moment in time that lasted forever.

A Moment Forever is an evocative journey that will resonate with you long after you close the book. Romance, heartache, and the power of love, atonement, and forgiveness transform lives long after the horrors and scars of the Second World War have ended.

Available on :  Amazon

 

Life in a Treasure Box

Hello Aubrey! I am honored to visit your blog to chat with you and your readers about my first WWII-era Romantic Drama, A Moment Forever. Thank you so much for the invitation and I look forward to your visit on my blog at the end of the year!

When considering the subject of my guest post, I reflected on the discovery made by the novel’s modern-day (1992) heroine, Juliana Martel. In the attic of the house her great-uncle bequeathed to her, the contents of his WWII footlocker set investigative wheels in motion.

And that got me thinking about my own treasure boxes and the memories they hold within. I have two because I’m an absolute sentimentalist. The first, which is nothing more than a brown cardboard box contains childhood mementos: my jacks, sixth grade camp report, two diaries, paper dolls, and a few other things that I’m sure meant a great deal to me. The second represents the “adult” Cat: wedding keepsakes, grandparent letters, pressed flowers and the like.

One doesn’t necessarily have to be a romantic to have a special “time capsule” of mementos, but I would bet that many reading this are romantics and do have such a box or hope chest (remember those?) We are, after all, lovers of history, especially our own.

Juliana’s grandfather isn’t a romantic, per se, but, like most of the Greatest Generation’s war veterans, he held onto those items that represented not only a defining historical event, but also how that event changed him and how he saw life and the world afterward. And, more importantly, how it altered his religiosity. The passage of decades had relegated the box to a forgotten shelf, but in Louie’s heart—and mind—the horrific memories of the Pacific have come back with a vengeance. Perhaps the re-emergence of the box, gifted into his granddaughter’s hands, will help him through his late-life PTSD.

He reached up into his bedroom closet, moving around a few items and small boxes until he found what he searched for—a worn Florsheim shoebox. Bringing it down, he held it out to her.

“What’s in it?”

He motioned with his hand and she complied, lifting the dusty lid.

Photographs, more than he remembered, lay within among many denominations of beautifully detailed Japanese Yen, occupation money, and various other pieces of ephemera pertaining to his wartime service. Also stashed away were his Marine medals, Presidential Citation, insignia patches, and the small diary he kept hidden throughout the war. A black matchbook lay on top of the contents, its design read, “Strike ’em Dead, Remember Pearl Harbor.”

Staring down into the relatively small container, Louie marveled at how it held the biggest most powerful four years of his life, and there it all sat stuffed into a box that once held brown wingtips. He shook his head in amazement, uncharacteristically feeling melancholy at the thought of it. Fifty long years had passed. Maybe Will had been right—we should never forget, but Will’s wartime experience hit way too close to home. Fighting in Europe and his internment for two years by the Germans had deep significance where he was concerned.

Try as Louie might, though, his own fight in the Pacific couldn’t be buried forever. Over the years, he had never truly forgotten Guadalcanal, New Britain, New Guinea, Peleliu, and Okinawa, but Lillian had helped him to pack the memories away, just as he helped her conceal her own past. Together, side by side, they looked to the future and lived in the joys of the moment, certainly not the horrors of the past. It was only after her death that the horrors came back, creeping in during his sleep. Without her there to rub his back or soothe the occasional tremor, the memories of those five months on Guadalcanal came back every night. That was his first battle and by the time it was over, he was nearly a different man from the one who entered.

Suddenly, with the letter’s introduction, the photographs, and now the box of mementos, it seemed important, something he had to share with Juliana.

 A Moment Forever’s 1942 heroine, Lizzy Renner had a treasure box, too. It hid all the physical evidence of her first—and only—sweetheart, William Martel, Juliana’s great-uncle. For fifty years, this antique glove box held her heart and she feared its opening in 1992 as a seventy year old woman. Like Louie, the war affected her too; the decisions she made and how she lived her life were direct results. There were secrets in that box, but I won’t share them with you. I do so hate spoilers! LOL

She glanced over at the red velvet treasure box where she’d left it sitting. Yes, it was time and if necessary, she would fly to wherever he was with that box, contrite tail between her legs.

She moved back to the coffee table, sat on the sofa before it, and took a deep breath, her heart pounded. The key fit, the lid lifted, and she stared down at the contents, each a precious fragment representing the sweetest and best part of her life. Inside letters and photographs of Will and her rested neatly organized. A long forgotten pocket-sized edition of WB Yeats’ poetry concealed a pressed gardenia on page 25—The Wild Swans of Coole. Trembling hands removed his gold and silver pilot cadet pin, and she promptly affixed it to the collar of her blouse. Tucked below the book were two postcards from her stay at the Hotel Lakeland Terrace, one bearing the swans. 

And then there is the footlocker—the physical, mental, and emotional evidence of the toll the Second World War and one woman had upon William Martel. Perhaps, when the hidden histories re-emerge, Juliana can bring together and heal all three people some forty-seven years after the war ended. 

Below the shelf, where a box labeled “Mom’s China” was stored, stood a beautifully carved claw-footed lowboy. It was deep, looking to be a blanket chest, even a hope chest. Beside it, under the eave, sat a green, military footlocker. Scuffed white lettering was stenciled across the metal top and side: LT. W.G MARTEL.

Juliana went first to the trunk, knelt before it, and carefully lifted the cover with a creak. Taped inside the lid, a collage of black and white snapshots greeted her. There were some of Lizzy, some of an older couple, one of a single older woman and one of a dirty, war-beaten man sitting beside a bombed out ditch wearing a helmet.

Resisting the hurried temptation to remove the items neatly folded within the trunk, she chose to gingerly pick up the corners to glance at the contents one by one: William’s uniform, his leather bomber jacket, flight manuals, pilot log, and patches that resembled the one on the mantle. Hidden at the very bottom of the military locker, beside an envelope marked “POW” and another containing many more snapshots of Lizzy, was the one thing she hoped to find—a stack of letters. There was no hesitancy in her when she dug her hand deep down to pull them from their resting place of over forty years.

Tied with a green ribbon, the stack stood at least four inches in height. The well-worn letter secured firmly at the top of the stack and the few below it were without an envelope. Juliana sat back and crossed her legs before the trunk as she faced the striking image of Lizzy tacked within. After untying the ribbon, she recognized the first light-blue, fifty year-old letter’s handwriting from the one burned in the fireplace and in the dim light of the sunset, began to read.

Tell me about your treasure box? Did you have a hope chest filled with the heirlooms of your grandmothers? When was the last time you took a trip down memory lane with your keepsakes?

I would like to offer a giveaway for one e-book of A Moment Forever. Please comment below to enter.

 

About the Author

Born and bred in New York City, Cat Gardiner is a girl in love with the romance of an era once known as the Silent Generation, now referred to as the Greatest Generation. A member of the National League of American Pen Women, Romance Writers of America, and Tampa Area Romance Authors, she and her husband adore exploring the 1940s Home Front experience as living historians, wishing for a time machine to transport them back seventy years. She loves to pull out her vintage frocks and attend U.S.O dances, swing clubs, and re-enactment camps as part of her research, believing that everyone should have an understanding of The 1940s Experience™.

Inspired by those everyday young adults who changed the fate of the world, she writes about them, taking the reader on a romantic journey. Cat’s WWII-era novels always begin in her beloved Big Apple and surround you with the sights and sounds of a generation.

She is also the author of four Jane Austen-inspired contemporary novels, however, her greatest love is writing 20th Century Historical Fiction, WWII-era Romance. A Moment Forever is her debut novel in that genre.

For more information please visit Cat Gardiner’s website. You can also connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Goodreads.

Website       Pinterest       Goodreads       Twitter

Release Day: Dante's Gift by Aubrey Wynne

Dante banner for tour

Dante’s Gift

Plato Publishing

Contemporary/Vintage Romance 

Novella

Kathleen James has put her practical side away for once and looks forward to the perfect romantic evening: an intimate dinner with the man of her dreams—and an engagement ring. She is not prepared to hear that he wants to bring his grandmother back from Italy to live with him.

Dominic Lawrence has planned this marriage proposal for six months. Nothing can go wrong—until his Nonna calls. Now he must interrupt the tenderest night of Katie’s life with the news that another woman will be under their roof.

When Antonia’s sister dies, she finds herself longing to be back in the States. An Italian wartime bride from the ‘40s, she knows how precious love can be. Can her own story of an American soldier and a very special collie once again bring two hearts together at Christmas?Dante’s Gift has two settings. The contemporary romance takes place in Chicago but we’ll talk about that in the next letter.

Buy Links:

Amazon   iBooks    Barnes and Noble   Kobo

Double Settings, Double Romance

Dante’s Gift has two settings. The contemporary romance takes place in Chicago but we’ll talk about that in the next letter.

The vintage romance takes place in Benevento, Italy, in the region of Campania. A lovely town close to Naples that has survived a terrible bombing and invasions by the Germans and then the Allies. While I have never visited, my stepfather (a WWII vet) was stationed near there at an airbase in Foggia. With his help, I was able to add authenticity to my story.

th

Chicago, Illinois (The Windy City): Kathleen James lives in Lake Pointe Towers. It is the odd, wavy-shaped building on the left. Imagine the view!

Sant'Agata de 'Goti is Italian town of 11,473 inhabitants situated in Campania in the province of Benevento. Caudina located in the Valley, at the foot of Mount Taburno, and the border with the province of Caserta.The historic citadel stands on a outcrop of tufa between Martorano and Riello, Isclero two tributaries of the river, forming a spectacular crossing of the deepest gorges in geology was the epicenter of a violent earthquake, the entire city is spread on the slopes of Mount Maineto (556 m), over the stream Martorano.  The plant is at the center circle and measuring 1 km in length, diameter directed from south to north. Extends around the entire municipality, hilly

Benevento, Italy: home of Antonia Capriotti. The city has not changed a lot over the centuries.

strega

Benevento is now on my bucket list. Things to do: visit the Santa Sofia church, the Arch of Trajan, the Roman amphitheater, drink Strega and espressos, and enjoy some authentic Italian food.

bombed window front

Excerpt:

The pilot with wheat-colored hair put his elbows on the counter and leaned toward her. “I could buy thirty loaves of bread at home for that much lettuce.”

“But you are not home, soldier. You are here, in Benevento, and a sticky bun is 100 lire.” She meant to be rude but his soft brown gaze made her heart race as if she’d just chased Dante across the field. His smile went to his eyes, adding crinkles to the corners, and made her own lips turn up. “The cost of supplies is very expensive these days, as you know.”

“So I’ve heard. Give me five,” he said with a wink. “Maybe I can sweet talk the captain into putting me back into a plane.”

“Save your money, Ken. Your ears obviously ain’t got any better in the last ten minutes,” he answered, rubber-necking over the counter. “Get a load of that landing gear.”

Dante growled again but this time showed sharp, white teeth. “I don’t think he likes you much, Bob.”

“Well I don’t care for him, neither. Give me two of those, and we’ll get out of your hair.”

The men paid for the rolls and walked outside. She headed into the kitchen when that quiet, deep voice stopped her. “I’d like to apologize for my friend. He’s not a bad Joe once you get to know him.”

“I don’t think I care to,” she said without turning around.

“It looks like I may be making regular trips through your town. Do you work here often?” His tone dripped like honey from a ladle and poured over her; she felt her body turn toward him even as her brain told her “no.”

“My family owns it. I am here every day.”

“So your father is Guido?” He had resumed his place at the counter, balanced on his elbows again, inviting her back without a word.

She found herself leaning on the counter from the other side. “How do you know my father?”

“The sign says Guido’s Café.”

She laughed. “Yes, it does. So you are no private eye, eh?”

He whistled then. “You’d make Betty Grable green with envy when you smile. It makes those blue eyes sparkle like a fresh-cut diamond. You should do that more often.”

Her eyes lowered, embarrassed at the compliment and the image of the American pinup girl in a bathing suit. “You should go catch up with your friends.”

“My name is Ken Lawrence,” he said and held out his hand.

“Antonia Capriotti,” she replied and took his hand. A tingle shot down her center and curled her toes. “It is nice to meet you.”

“You’re blushing. Mmm, beautiful and modest. That’s a rare find, you know.” He held firmly onto her hand. “And who is this?”

She looked down at the silent collie. He hadn’t made a noise when this man reached across the counter and touched her. Odd. “Dante, our protector.”

“You need one, with mugs like Bob.” He made a kissing noise in the dog’s direction and slapped the counter. Dante jumped up, feet on the edge and barked. Ken reached over and scratched the dog behind his ears. “Good boy, you look like my old Schotzie.”

“You have a dog?”

“I did. Old man hit fourteen just before I left. Mom sent me his collar when he passed.”

“I’m sorry, they are just like one of the family, si?”

“Yes they are,” he agreed, giving Dante one more pat before he tipped his hat. “I hope to see you again soon, Antonia.”

She hugged the collie as the Yank left, a swagger to his walk. “What do you know that I don’t, hmm? I trust your instincts better than mine. Perhaps we’ll consider more conversation with this Americano if he returns.”

Giveaways:

Enter the rafflecopter for a $10 Amazon gift card or Paypal bucks OR these adorable Thanksgiving wine charms. One click Dante’s Gift, put it on your wishlist, tweet or vote for me on Goodreads.

leaf and cornucopia

Review Rafflecopter $25 gift card & signed copy of Dante’s Gift (includes international)

If you have read any of my stories, get rewarded! Leave a review for Dante’s Gift and/or Merry Christmas Henry (available at major retail sites and Goodreads.) You may also request a complimentary digital copy of my short stories and leave comments for those at Goodreads. Check out the award-winning Pete’s Mighty Purty Privies or To Cast a Cliche on my website. This contest will run until Christmas!

AubreyWynn_DantesGift_BandNoble_1333x2000 copy

My question to you: What is your favorite city and why? 

 

.

 

Release Day for Christmas Pets and Kisses!

Release Day!!!!

Get your copy while it’s still .99 and have the holiday before all of your friends!

Paws, tails, feathers, and fur add so much to Christmas Cheer, and boy do we have a surprise for you!
16 All-New, Never Published before Sweet Christmas Romances



SIXTEEN ALL-NEW, NEVER-BEFORE-PUBLISHED SWEET (PG-rated) CHRISTMAS ROMANCES
Ring in the Christmas cheer with sixteen all-new sweet and heart-warming romances from New York Times, USA Today bestselling, and award-winning authors. Don’t miss out on this romantic collection of Christmas tails…uh, tales as adorable pets with fins, paws, feathers, and hooves bring holiday magic with the gift of true love.
Pre-order now for 99c [lowest price guaranteed]

Dante’s Gift

AubreyWynn_DantesGift_BandNoble_1333x2000 copy

 

Kathleen James has put her practical side away for once and is prepared for the perfect romantic evening: an intimate dinner with the man of her dreams—and an engagement ring. She is not prepared to hear that he wants to bring his grandmother back from Italy to live with him.

Dominic Lawrence has planned this marriage proposal for six months. Nothing can go wrong—until his Nonna calls. Now he must interrupt the tenderest night of Katie’s life with the news that another woman will be under their roof.

When Antonia’s sister dies, she finds herself longing to be back in the states. A wartime bride from the ‘40s, she knows how precious love can be. Can her own story of an American soldier and a very special collie once again bring two hearts together at Christmas?

***** 

 Golden Christmas – Helen Scott Taylor
Two wounded hearts are brought together at Christmas by a golden retriever puppy.
Two Loves for Christmas – Mona Risk
Her German shepherd is her only friend until Josh teams with Rino to love and protect her.
Dog-Gone Christmas – Melinda Curtis
A handsome neighbor and his friendly St. Bernard mooch food and kisses from a merry widow.
His Christmas Promise – Alicia Street
A stray dog brings an ex-Army helicopter pilot and a single mom together. 
We Wish You A Ferret Christmas – Nikki Lynn Barrett
Can a lost and found ferret bring two fractured families together?
Christmas Lovebirds – Rachelle Ayala
Can two little lovebirds and Christmas cheer open Melisa’s heart to giving Rob another chance?
Christmas on Cougar Mountain – Nancy Radke
 A Cinderella story on Cougar Mountain, with an escape artist playing fairy godmother, and a child getting a fresh start. 
The Vet & The Christmas Pet – J.L. Campbell
A near accident brings Toni and her daughter a homeless dog and a man she’d prefer to keep in her past.
Tails, Time, and St. Nick – Mary Leo
Kris Timemaker uses a magic clock to bring his daughter’s missing Westie and estranged wife back to him. 
Graced – Jade Kerrion
Noelle, armed with several goldfish and a kitten, brings Christmas cheer to a widower and his children.
Unexpected Gift – Chantel Rhondeau
Far from home, a lonely young woman strikes up a friendship with a lost cat and his secretive owner.
Minty’s Kiss – P.C. Zick
One kitten, a broken-hearted girl, and long lost loves are brought together for a special mountain Christmas.
The Christmas Wish – Michele Shriver
Will a fall from a horse bring Hayley’s parents back together in time for Christmas?
Dante’s Gift – Aubrey Wynne
Seventy years ago, a collie mix brought two hearts together in war torn Italy. Will their story help their grandson find his own Christmas love?
Mavy’s Christmas Miracle – Sharon Coady
Anne takes a rescue kitten to the vet, only to discover he’s the man who broke her heart. 
The Impossible Rescue – Annamaria Bazzi
A handsome stranger gifts a cute Pomeranian puppy to a woman in need of rescue.
done teaser antonia's villa

The scent of turkey met her at Dom’s front door. For a moment, apprehension swept through her at the thought of helping in the kitchen. Then a handsome man stood before her, and she couldn’t wipe the foolish smile off her face. Instead of saying something stupid, she held out the wine.

“In a holiday bag, no less,” Dom said, eyebrows raised. He stepped back to let her in, grabbed her hand, and spun her around to face him. “You look stunning.”

“I just thought that the burlap would give it extra protection if I dropped it, and they only seemed to have holiday wine bags in stock and—”

One finger covered her mouth. As his head slowly lowered, she could feel his breath on her face; heat raced through her core. By the time their lips touched, her legs had turned to jello; she clung to him for support.

Gently pushing her toward the wall, he pressed his length against her and whispered, “I need to make you mine, legally, before I lose all control. You have no idea the affect you have on me, do you?”

“I think that is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” she said breathless. “Kiss me like that again… please?”

“I’d be happy to oblige if you tell me that isn’t my grandmother standing in the doorway watching us.”

Katie looked over to see Antonia, a wide grin on her face, and quickly pushed on the hard chest that pinned her to the wall. She ran a hand through her hair as the blood rushed to her face.

“Oh Nico, such good Italian blood in you. And not even any mistletoe out yet.” Antonia wiped her hands on her apron and waved to the young couple. “Come now, we have work to do before we play.”

The two followed her in like reprimanded children who showed no remorse, holding hands and snickering. This is silly but it feels so good. Katie accepted the apron and as she pulled the straps behind her, strong hands covered hers.

“Let me,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m good at tying knots.”

Review: My Lady Faye by Sarah Hegger

Enter to Win
$50 GC, $20 GC or 
Copy of SWEET BEA
MY LADY FAYE
Sir Arthur’s Legacy #2
Sarah Hegger
Released September 1st, 2015
Kensington Books : Lyrical

 

The Lady

The fair Lady Faye has always played the role allotted her. Yet the marriage her
family wanted only brought her years of abuse and heartache. Now, finally free
of her tyrannical husband, she is able to live her own life for the first time.
But someone from the past has returned. Someone she has never been able to
forget.

 
The Warrior
After years of servitude as a warrior for King and Country, Gregory is now free to pursue his own path: to serve God by becoming a monk. The only thing stopping him is Faye. Gregory has loved Faye since the moment he saw her. But their love was not meant to be. How can he serve God when his heart longs for her? He can neither forsake God nor the woman he loves.
 
The Promise
 When Faye’s son is kidnapped, Gregory answers her family’s call for help, only to find that even in the most dangerous of circumstances, neither can fight their
forbidden attraction. An attraction that now burns brighter than ever before.
And it is only a matter of time until it consumes them both.
BUY NOW
Amazon | B
& N
 | iTunes | Kobo  

REVIEW

BY AUBREY WYNNE

This is my first read from Sarah Hegger. I knew from the first page I would love this book. It is the old-time historical romance with great main characters and a voice reminiscent of Philippa Gregory. The research is impeccable and puts you in their time with just the right amount of period language.

Faye has finally escaped her villain of a husband and is living with her family. She is the kind of heroine who is strong and capable. She knows what hell is and will fight tooth and nail not to go back there. If she doubts herself, she does it quietly without whining and moves on.

Gregory, living without her, has pledged himself to God. He is tired of death and killing but Faye returns and needs him before he says his vows. Perfect timing. And he comes running. He’s a hero from the start with his quiet and valiant ways.

Faye’s first born has been kidnapped and the two of them work together to rescue him and the love begins again. I did have a problem with the explanation to her family about the abuse. Gregory knew the evils she had suffered yet her family seemed not to know anything. I found that a little hard to believe. (Not a spoiler, it is all in the very beginning of the book.)

The rest of the story is beautiful. I hadn’t time to read a good medieval in months. This one has me ready to devour a few more. It is part of a series but I found it read as a standalone. I will be checking out the rest of the series. 4.5 mugs

5 mugs copy   Steamy and delicious. Don’t miss this one.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway
//widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Excerpt:

Her mother and father were settled at table and Faye took the seat to her father’s left. As the first girl, born after Roger and William, she’d been accorded a special place in her father’s affection.

His craggy face split into a grin. “Beautiful Faye.” He kissed her cheek. “Tell me how you have been spending this day.”

She dreaded the question. He asked it every night and every night she burrowed deep for some interesting morsel that wouldn’t make her day seem as stale as old bread. “I am working on a new set of bed linens for Beatrice’s baby. As we do not know the sex of the child, I thought green was a good choice.”

“Marvelous.” Her father rubbed his hands together.

She loved him for the attempt, but honestly, the mighty Sir Arthur of Anglesea had as much interest in bedding as, well, she did.

Twined up in each other like a pair of clinging vines, Garrett and Beatrice entered the hall. Beatrice waddled under the weight of the child she carried. Garrett strutted and preened like the first man to ever conceive a child, hovering about Beatrice constantly. So in love, it made her wish for things she couldn’t have.

Nurse leant forward from beside Lady Mary. “She carries a boy, you mark my words.”

Faye itched to adjust her wimple. Nurse wore it so low and tight, it pressed her face inward and gave her the look of a spotted pudding.

“It is in the shape of the belly.” Nurse made a circle with her hands. “If it is round like that, it’s a boy. You were the same and your mother before you.”

Oh, spare her Nurse and her predictions. Both times Nurse had sworn up and down Faye bore a girl. She merely smiled at their resident oracle and accepted a goblet from a serving woman. At least the wine at Anglesea was always good.

Speaking of her confinements, Simon and Arthur should be back by now.

“Nurse, have you seen the boys?” She leant far forward to see past her father and mother. She had told Sir Arthur they should commission a curved table at Anglesea. It was one good thing she had taken from Calder Castle.

Nurse’s bodice dropped in her trencher as she replied. See there, a curved table would be a mercy to silk everywhere. “Nay.” Nurse frowned. “I thought they were with young Oliver.”

Oliver, the squire charged with watching the boys. There were so many around Anglesea, their names blurred into a crowd of eager young faces.

“Oliver missed weapons practice this evening.” William took the seat beside her.

Why he did it baffled her because Roger would only insist he move one down. Men. Oliver should not have missed practice. Everyone knew Sir Arthur ran a disciplined keep, and squires did not miss practice. Not unless there was a problem. A tendril of alarm curled in her belly.

“I saw them heading for the beech thicket.” Roger rumbled from behind. He clapped William on the shoulder, his knuckles whitening as he increased his grip.

“The beech thicket? Did you not stop them? They told me they would go to the stream at the bottom of the hill. They were to remain in sight of the keep guards.”

“I thought they had your permission.” Roger won the battle with William and wedged huge shoulders in beside her.

Roger was so thick sometimes, sitting there sipping his mead as if naught was amiss. She had told her boys right before him the thicket was not allowed, even accompanied. Her brother would be well served if she poured his mead over his thoughtless head. Roger should have stopped them. The beech thicket spread all the way to the village and the boys could be anywhere. Best she start looking. Already planning the stern word she would have with her oldest son when she found him, she got to her feet. Simon forever led the way into mischief with little Arthur at his heels. She should never have let them go this morning.

Sir Arthur rose. “Faye?”

“Forgive me.” She managed a tight smile for the table. “If you will excuse me, I will go and find my sons.”

Garrett stood. “I shall come with you.”

“I am sure there is no reason for concern.” She kept it light. Boys were boys and she did try not to coddle them, but for their bellies not to lead them to dinner was unusual.

“I will come.” Garrett motioned for Beatrice to stay. “Where would you like to begin?”

Beatrice had a treasure in her husband. Faye gave him a grateful smile as she led the way out of the hall.

A bench scraped and William called out. “Hang about, Faye, we can split up and cover more ground.”

 

Born British and raised in South Africa, Sarah Hegger suffers from an incurable case of wanderlust. Her match? A hot Canadian engineer, whose marriage proposal she accepted six short weeks after they first met. Together they’ve made homes in seven different cities across three different continents (and back again once or twice). If only it made her multilingual, but the best she can manage is idiosyncratic English, fluent Afrikaans, conversant Russian, pigeon Portuguese, even worse Zulu and enough French to get herself into trouble.

Mimicking her globe trotting adventures, Sarah’s career path began as a gainfully employed actress, drifted into public relations, settled a moment in advertising, and eventually took root in the fertile soil of her first love, writing. She also moonlights as a wife and mother.She currently lives in Draper, Utah, with her teenage daughters, two Golden Retrievers and aforementioned husband. Part footloose buccaneer, part quixotic observer of life, Sarah’s restless heart is most content when reading or writing books.

She loves to hear from readers and you can find her at any of the places below.

Highland Lover by Maeve Greyson

Tasty Tours

My Highland Lover
Highland Hearts # 1

By: Maeve Greyson

Releasing March 24th, 2015

Loveswept

My-Highland-Lover-Maeve-Greyson copy

 Maeve Greyson unleashes a thrilling tale of magic and desire as a feisty Southern gal falls into the arms of a rough-hewn Highland chieftain.

 As the proprietor of a homeopathic store in rural Kentucky, Trulie Sinclair knows that her neighbors think she’s strange—but they have no idea how strange she really is. Trulie was born in Scotland in the thirteenth century to a line of time-traveling Highlanders. When Trulie’s grandmother convinces her to return to their homeland, Trulie jumps back in time, right onto the powerful chest of Gray MacKenna. Just as his steely good looks send ripples through her body, their fierce attraction will send ripples through the ages.

After his parents murdered, Gray is consumed by thoughts of revenge. As the new chieftain of the MacKenna clan, he has reason to believe that there’s a traitor in his midst, and nothing—not even the bonny lass who suddenly drops from the sky—can distract him from his single-minded pursuit of the culprit. But when Gray learns that this sassy beauty possesses gifts beyond the sparkle in her eye, he allows his gaze, and his heart, to linger. While he hunts for the murderer, Gray finds in Trulie a precious companion—and a timeless love.

After his parents murdered, Gray is consumed by thoughts of revenge. As the new chieftain of the MacKenna clan, he has reason to believe that there’s a traitor in his midst, and nothing—not even the bonny lass who suddenly drops from the sky—can distract him from his single-minded pursuit of the culprit. But when Gray learns that this sassy beauty possesses gifts beyond the sparkle in her eye, he allows his gaze, and his heart, to linger. While he hunts for the murderer, Gray finds in Trulie a precious companion—and a timeless love.

Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/01/my-highland-lover-highland-hearts-1-by.html

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23167115-my-highland-lover?from_search=true

Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/137240-highland-hearts

 

Buy Links: Amazon | Barnes | iTunes | Kobo

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/My-Highland-Lover-Hearts-ebook/dp/B00N6PD7E2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1419038015&sr=8-1&keywords=my+highland+lover

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/my-highland-lover-maeve-greyson/1120261297?ean=9780553395099

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/my-highland-lover/id914360193?mt=11

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/my-highland-lover

Note from Aubrey Wynne: Due to my technological deficiencies, I was not able to master Netgalley until this week. I plan on reviewing My Highland Lover but could not finish reading it in time for this post. But if the first few chapters are any indication, I may have a new favorite highland author. My sincere apologies to the lovely Maeve Greyson.  

61+Bt4kkEJL._UX250_

About The Author 

No one has the power to shatter your dreams unless you give it to them. That’s been Maeve Greyson’s mantra since she was a girl. When she’s not at the full time day job at the steel mill, Maeve’s writing romances about sexy Highlanders and the women who tame them. Tucked away in a five acre wood, Maeve listens to the wind singing through the trees and hears her characters telling their stories. Her work is proofed by her sharp-eyed dog, Jasper, and her greatest supporter is her long suffering husband of over thirty-five years who’s learned not to throw away any odd sticky notes filled with strange phrases.

 

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Google+

Website: http://www.maevegreyson.com/

 

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMaeveGreyson
Twitter:  http://twitter.com/maevegreyson

 

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MaeveGreyson

 

Rafflecopter Giveaway

($25.00 eGift Card to choice book seller, Loveswept Mug and Nail Polish)

 

 

Hannah Howell: Highland Guard

Highland-Guard-Hannah-Howell banner

Rafflecopter Giveaway (Three Print copies of HIGHLAND GUARD)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Highland Guard cover

Highland Guard

Murray Family # 20

By: Hannah Howell

Releasing March 3rd, 2015

Zebra

New York Times bestselling author Hannah Howell brings back the daring Murray family in a brand-new tale of dangerous love rekindled. . .

Lady Annys MacQueen has no other choice. The deception that enabled her to keep her lands safe is on the verge of being revealed by a cruel kinsman. To shield her young son from the sword and her people from devastation, she must turn to the one man she could never forget. . .

He lives for duty and honor. So the only way Sir Harcourt Murray could repay the laird who saved his life was to agree to father a child with Sir MacQueen’s wife. . .Lady Annys. Now the passion he still feels for the lovely strong-willed widow is as all-consuming and perilous as securing her lands. But to convince her that his love is forever real means confronting her most wrenching fears–and putting everything they treasure most at stake. .

Buy Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Kobo | Publisher

About Hannah Howell

Hannah D. Howell is a highly regarded and prolific romance writer. Since Amber Flame, her first historical romance, was released in February 1988, she has published 25 novels and short stories, with more on the way. Her writing has been repeatedly recognized for its excellence and has “made Waldenbooks Romance Bestseller list a time or two” as well as was nominated twice by Romantic Times for Best Medieval Romance (Promised Passion and Elfking’s Lady). She has also won Romantic Times’ Best British Isles Historical Romance for Beauty and the Beast; and, in 1991-92 she received Romantic Times’ Career Achievement Award for Historical Storyteller of the Year.

Hannah was born and raised in Massachusetts (the maternal side of her family has been there since the 1630’s). She has been married to her husband Stephen for 28 years, who she met in England while visiting relatives, and decided to import him. They have two sons Samuel, 27, and Keir, 24. She is addicted to crocheting, reads and plays piano, attempts to garden, and collects things like dolls, faerie and cat figurines, and music boxes. She also seems to collect cats, as she now has four of them, Clousseau, Banshee, Spooky, and Oliver Cromwell.

Author Links:

Website: http://hannahhowell.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorHannahHowell

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/97228.Hannah_Howell

Highland Guard cover

Excerpt:

Harcourt looked at Annys and his heart actually skipped a beat. He would have laughed if he was not so filled with conflicting emotions. Such happenings were the stuff of bad poetry, the sort of thing he had always made jest of. Yet, there he stood, rooted to the spot, frantically thinking of what to say and how to hide the tangled mass of emotion that was nearly choking him. He nodded a greeting to her and watched her beautiful moss-green eyes narrow in a look that did not bode well for an amiable talk later. Talking was not what he was thinking about, however. He was recalling how soft that long blood-red hair of hers was, how warm her pale skin felt beneath his hands, and how sweet those full lips tasted. That was a memory he needed to smother and fast.

“Are matters as bad as young Ian indicated?” he asked Nicolas, and inwardly winced when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Annys cross her arms under her breasts.

“Aye,” Nicolas replied. “We can have that talk with her ladyship in attendance as soon as we get all of you sorted.”

Harcourt nodded and turned his attention to seeing to the matter. Once the horses were taken care of, their supplies unloaded and carted away, he knew the time had come to actually face Annys. He took a deep breath and started toward her where she still stood on the steps only to come to a halt when a small child rushed by him and ran up to pull at her skirts.

“Maman! Ye got us more soldiers.”

“I did, Benet. I thought it might help stop all the trouble we have been having.”

The moment the child turned to look at him, Harcourt clenched his fists at his side. The boy’s eyes were a match for his own. Bright amber eyes watched him closely and Harcourt fought against the urge to shout out his claim to this child. He had given up all rights. It had been the debt owed for his life. He could feel the eyes of his companions fixed upon him though and knew he would be facing a lot of questions.

It took every ounce of strength he had to start walking again. He stepped up until he was standing just below Annys and the boy. It was easy to read the fear in her eyes. Young Benet’s eye color was not an exact match with his and could be attributed to the tiny gold specks in her eyes or just a different shade of the brown David’s eyes had been. The boy’s hair was black but so had David’s been. As long as he did not say or do something to give the secret away, all would be fine. Yet, Harcourt knew it was going to be a long hard battle not to reach out and claim his son.

“M’lady,” he said and took her hand in his to brush a kiss over her knuckles.

That tiny soft hand trembled slightly in his grasp and his body reacted to the sign that she was not as indifferent to his presence as she appeared to be. Harcourt knew it would be unwise to try to begin an affair with her but he was not sure he was strong enough to resist if she gave him even the smallest hint that she would welcome his attention.

“Sir Harcourt,” she said and nodded as she almost yanked her hand out of his grasp. “Where is Ian?”

“He was injured in his travels. Nay badly, but I thought it best if he remained at Gormfeurach for a while. He is being given the best of care.”

“Thank you for that. I was most concerned when he did not return.” She turned slightly and took Benet by the hand. “Shall we go to the hall where you can quench your thirst and have some food while we talk?”

Annys fought to keep from racing into the keep, putting as much distance between her and Sir Harcourt as she could. The touch of his lips on her hand had nearly undone her hard-won composure. It had been five years since she had felt his touch yet the moment his flesh met hers, even in the innocence of a proper greeting, her mind had gone back to those nights by the burn.

Guilt left a sour taste in her mouth. David was barely cold in his grave and she was allowing herself to weaken at the touch of another man’s hand. What had happened between her and Harcourt had been wrong, even if it had been condoned by David. She nearly laughed. Condoned? It had been meticulously arranged. David had been the sweetest, kindest man she had ever known but he had also been a man who would not hesitate to do whatever was needed to get what he wanted. He had wanted a son.

She glanced down at Benet who kept looking back at the men following them into the keep. Until she had seen Harcourt again, she had not allowed herself to even think on how much Benet looked like the man. All she could do was pray no one else noticed, especially since there had been the faintest similarities in coloring between David and Harcourt. She would also have to be very watchful for even the smallest possibility that she or Harcourt were giving the secret away in how they treated the boy.

“M’lady,” Joan whispered in her ear as they entered the hall and pulled away from the men who went to wash their hands, “it is not as clear to see as ye think it is.”

“I pray ye are right, Joan.”

“I am. I only see it because of what I ken and I have ne’er heard a whisper that would tell me anyone else here kens the truth or that those who may would e’er say a word. So, ye just be careful in what ye say and do and all will be weel.”

Annys wished she had the confidence in that that Joan had. The looks on the faces of the men who had come with Harcourt, looks the men were doing a pitiful job of hiding, told her that they noticed something already. She prayed Harcourt would have a stern word with them all.

“Allow me to introduce my companions, m’lady,” Harcourt said once they were all seated. “This is Sir Callum MacMillan, Sir Tamhas Cameron, Sir Nathan MacFingal, Sir Ned MacFingal, and Sir Gybbon Murray.”

Annys nodded a greeting to each man as he was introduced. Two redheads, a brunet, and three raven-haired men. All handsome. All warriors. All tall and fit. It was not going to be easy to stop the maidens of the keep from seeking them out. They were, however, a treasure of skill and strength she could not turn away, no matter how much she worried over the chance that her secret might come out.

“I thank you all for coming,” she said. “Please, eat, drink, and we can talk once ye take the edge off your thirst and hunger.”

The only conversation that ensued as the men ate concerned the journey they had taken. Gormfeurach was not as far away as Annys had thought, although far enough when one half of the partners in a huge secret were concerned. She ate very little, her stomach tied in knots, as she struggled to push aside all worry about what might or might not be exposed by Sir Harcourt’s presence. The people of Glencullaich needed these men. They had to take precedence over all of her fears.

As she sipped her wine she glanced between Harcourt on her left and Nicolas on her right. Both were extraordinarily handsome men yet she experienced not one single twinge of womanly interest when she studied Nicolas. Hair the color of dark wood, gray eyes, and a strong body were all things that could please a woman but, although she did like the look of him, nothing else stirred inside her. Harcourt stirred everything inside of her and not all of it was good. The warmth was side by side with the chilling fear of secrets being uncovered. The need was side by side with the guilt for having given in to it even with the urging of her husband. The pleasure of seeing him again sat side by side with a lingering anger over the way he had left her. Somehow she had to clear her heart and mind of all the confusion.

Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2015/01/highland-guard-murray-family-20-by.html

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22459021-highland-guard?from_search=true

Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/41630-murray-family

Meet my Characters Blog Hop~Meet Rolf from Rolf's Quest

Tarah Scott's To Tame A Highland Earl

TARAH SCOTT

tscott@tarahscott.com

 WEBSITE | BLOG | FACEBOOK | TWITTER

 615c0c8efda60ad8986cda.L._V168161722_SX200_

 Award winning author Tarah Scott cut her teeth on authors such as Georgette Heyer, Zane Grey, and Amanda Quick. Her favorite book is a Tale of Two Cities, with Gone With the Wind as a close second. She writes modern classical romance, and paranormal and romantic suspense. Tarah grew up in Texas and currently resides in Westchester County, New York with her daughter.

 

 totameahighlandearl200X300 copy

 To Tame a Highland Earl

AMAZON | B&N | KOBO | ARe iTunes

 A man torn between two worlds. Both need him…neither wants him.

 Groomed for a life amongst the English aristocracy, Lord Erroll Rushton is unexpectedly thrust back into his father’s Scottish world when the Englishwoman he compromises refuses to marry him.

No gentleman breaks into a lady’s bedchamber…but then, no lady sleeps with a pistol under her pillow.

 Miss Eve Crenshaw will marry for love or won’t marry at all. When London’s most notorious rakehell breaks into her bedchamber in the dead of night and compromises her beyond repair, Eve plans a daring escape that shocks even the Earl.

 

 Tarah Scott TOur Button

To Tame a Highland Earl

My newest book, To Tame a Highland Earl: A MacLean Highlander Novel, is now available for preorder for the sale price of $2.99.

 Excerpt–

March 1807

Manchester, England

If ever a woman deserved to be shot, it was Miss Crenshaw. But dawn appointments weren’t meant for the weaker sex. Weaker sex. The lady was anything but weak, which is why Erroll intended to throttle her.

Erroll laid a shilling in the innkeeper’s palm. “You understand the need for discretion.”

“Indeed, I do, my lord,” the man replied. “Your betrothed’s reputation is safe with me.”

Erroll managed to maintain a bland expression as the innkeeper handed him the key to the lady’s room. So news of his impending nuptials had sped from Coventry to Manchester even quicker than he had—which meant London society would hear the news by morning light and the story would cross the border to Edinburgh just as quickly.

Which of the gossipmongers had he to thank for that? He was grateful to the heavenly powers that his mother had remained in Scotland and not accompanied his father to England this month. God help him if she got wind of this entanglement before he had a chance to extricate himself from the tenacious claw of the husband-hunting wench.

“A beautiful woman is hard to resist,” the innkeeper said.

“Indeed,” Erroll murmured, glad the man had interrupted the mental picture of his mother outfitting the deceitful huntress in her wedding dress. No bachelor’s mother was more determined to see her son wed than Erroll’s own dear mamma, and since his return from the navy, his father had put his considerable weight behind her efforts.

He whirled toward the stairs, climbed to the second floor and made a left down the hall. At the third door on the left, he stopped. Erroll had endured his father’s hour-long diatribe that ended with the command to marry the woman who had accused him of compromising her—a woman he’d never laid eyes on—before he finally broke away to discover his accuser had fled Coventry. The hard five hour ride to catch her before she reached her father’s estate would have been in vain if not for the fact a wheel on her carriage broke forty miles distance from Manchester.

This experience would teach him to dally with the women outside of London. Had he satisfied himself with the eligible ladies in Town—if those females could be called ladies—he wouldn’t have gone to Coventry and attended the damn house party that had gotten him into trouble. The fact he’d spent a pleasurable hour with a lady in the hostess’ gardens had only served to put him in the very place his accuser said he’d been. Erroll felt sure the cunning creature was well aware he’d been in the gardens, and therefore claimed to be the object of his attentions.

Erroll quietly unlocked the door, slipped into the darkened room, then eased the door shut and slipped the key into his pocket. Faint moonlight filtered in through thin curtains and outlined the sleeping figure in the bed. Erroll crept forward until he reached the bed. He braced a knee against the side of the mattress, then placed a hand on each side of the woman and brought his face to within an inch of hers.

She shifted in her sleep and lush breasts grazed his chest. He wondered how long it would be before she became aware a man was in her bed, then concluded that since she hadn’t awoken with a shriek she must be accustomed to having a man in her bed. He should ravish her as she’d said he had just for good measure. The thought froze at the pressure of a pistol jammed against his abdomen.

“I am a crack shot.” The feminine voice was steady—as was the hand holding the gun. “But even the worst shot in Great Britain couldn’t miss.” The gun dug deeper into his belly. “Move away.”

Erroll considered. Her calm response to his presence almost made him think she’d expected him. “If I’m to be shot, I should at least commit the crime for which I’m accused.” The click of the pistol’s hammer being pulled back was his answer. “I see you do not agree.” He straightened off the bed.

“Step back,” she ordered.

He retreated two paces.

“More.”

He moved back another two paces.

“I promise you, sir, my aim is as true at such short a distance as it was when you were an inch from my face. Back against the door.”

Erroll complied. A light click indicated she had released the hammer back into place. She rose, a small figure in the shadows, and picked up something from the night table. The clink of glass was followed by the scrape of a match on wood, then light flared and he got his first look at the woman who claimed he had ravished away her innocence. Dark brown eyes pinned him with a hard stare. Honey-brown hair tumbled down her shoulders. The top of her head was no higher than his chest.

The muff pistol remained pointed at him as her attention shifted to the lamp on the nightstand. She bent slightly and her full breasts strained against the nightgown as she lit the wick. His cock jerked and he couldn’t deny his good fortune in not having met her at Lady Baldwin’s party. He very well might have fallen prey to her charms and been guilty of her accusations.

She blew out the match and tossed it onto a metal tray, then took a step toward him. The lamplight illuminated the outline of her body through the nightgown. The curves he discerned were fuller than were fashionable and the kind he’d sought without success. His cock began to lift. He might end up shot after all.

“You are no common housebreaker,” she said. “Who are you?”

Erroll’s mind snapped to attention. The wench didn’t recognize him. Fury doused his lust. He gave a mocking smile and bowed. “Lord Erroll Rushton, at your service.”

Shock registered on her face, then an answering fire appeared in her eyes. “I see we shall have to break you of the habit of entering a lady’s room uninvited.”

“You use the term lady too loosely.”

“That is the pot calling the kettle black.”

He nearly laughed.

“One would think a prospective groom could keep his cock in his pants with his wedding but two days hence,” she said.

“Three days,” Erroll corrected. That was how long it would take him to get the special license his father ordered him to procure. “Pray tell, what sort of lady carries a gun?” He didn’t ask what lady used the word ‘cock’ as easily as the word ‘groom?’ That was perhaps too obvious.

“The sort who knows what to expect of a man,” she replied.

“The very sort who understands a man might object to being forced into marriage?” he said.

She gave a derisive laugh. “You are a rakehell, sir.”

“I never denied being a rake, madam, but I am no liar.”

She wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d been told this was to be her second season, but this woman was no debutante and, given the way she unabashedly stood before him in her nightclothes, he would wager she was no virgin.

“Surely, you’re a little old for this game?” he drawled.

Her brow knit, but he detected no shame. She was too collected. But a level head—along with a liberal dose of nerve—is exactly what it took to accuse a complete stranger of compromising her.

“Did you really think you could get away with it?” she asked.

The question startled him.

“Now who is the pot calling the kettle black?” he said. She shifted and Erroll could have sworn he discerned a dark patch between her legs. “A shame we met under these circumstances.” He flicked a glance at her breasts. “We could have been friends.”

Her mouth thinned. “By God, I really should shoot you.”

“Tut tut, love, not until the vows are said and I claim what is left of your virtue.”

She drew in a sharp breath.

“Your righteous anger is completely undone by the fact that you’re nearly naked.”

Her mouth twisted in a derisive smile. “Forgive me, my lord. Had I known you were coming, I would have dressed for the occasion.”

“You are impeccably dressed for the occasion.”

Did she have any idea how visible the contours of her body were with the lamplight behind her…or how her nipples pressed against her nightgown? She shifted, widening her stance slightly and his cock jerked harder. Oh yes, the witch knew.

“I should send you to hell this instant,” she said.

He lifted a brow. “The marriage vows will take care of that—had I any intentions of marrying.”

“My father will ensure that you do not escape this time.”

“That sounds as though you think I am getting what I deserve.”

“You do not deserve such a good and innocent wife.”

Erroll laughed. “Innocent? A woman who puts herself in such a position is no innocent.”

“How dare you?” she hissed.

“How dare I? I understand there were several suitors for the honorable Miss Crenshaw’s attentions at Lady Baldwin’s party. I wager none of them were as good a prospect as I, which is why you gambled that no one would notice if I was included on that list.”

He didn’t miss the way her fingers flexed on the gun.

“Everything I’ve heard about you is true,” she said. “You have no conscience.”

“In that we are alike. Should my father succeed in coercing me into marriage, I will make the worst sort of husband you can imagine. I will not settle down and sire an heir as he expects. Instead, I will send my wife to the family estate in Scotland while I go about my pleasures in London.”

“So the choice is desertion or ruination?”

“Be honest, the ruination was done long before you concocted this plan.”

“Plan?” she repeated. “I feel certain I can convince the magistrate of self-defense. After all, you broke into my room.”

“Think again.” Erroll reached into his pocket.

“Beware,” she said.

He slowly withdrew the key from his pocket and held it up. “The innkeeper was very obliging. He feels nothing should stand in the way of true love.”

She frowned, then comprehension cleared her expression. “I should have guessed. You think you can browbeat me into helping you avoid the marriage vows. You, sir, are the worst sort of knave.”

“So we do understand one another.”

“You are a fool,” she muttered.

He’d had enough. “You are the fool if you believe I will marry you.”

“Marry me? What—”

Erroll started toward her.

She took a faltering step backwards and he lunged. She gave a startled cry. He seized the hand holding the gun and shoved it upward in their tumble backwards. They landed on the bed, him on top of her. Her lush body yielded beneath his hard planes—his stiffening cock in particular. To his surprise, she didn’t struggle, but released the pistol. The weapon bounced off the mattress and struck the carpet with a thud.

“Is this how you described my having ravished you?” he demanded.

Shock registered on her face. He blew out a frustrated breath. He’d come ready to battle the vixen and she was already crumbling. Moisture appeared in her eyes. Ah, there it was. She was simply moving onto another tactic.

“Lies, pistols, tears, and…” He moved suggestively against her breasts and felt the rigid nipples beneath his shirt. “Your arsenal of weapons is impressive, madam.”

“I tell you, mamma, I heard a scream.”

A woman’s voice penetrated the door on the right wall. Erroll jerked his gaze in that direction as the door swung open. Two women stood in the doorway staring, one young—in her second season, he would guess—the other, the mamma the girl had addressed.

Erroll looked at the woman lying beneath him. “I thought that was a closet.”

Buy Links:

Amazon

B&N

Abe Books

Kobo

Indie Bound

Happy reading!

Tarah