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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY: Tea for Two by Bianca White

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An Austen-inspired Short Story Duet

Enjoy two tea
parties, two romances and two characters from one of the world’s most beloved
authors.

 

Tea for Two:

An Austen-Inspired
Short Story Duet

by Bianca White

Genre: Historical Romance

 

 
 

Jane Austen and tea.
What more could one ask for?

Enjoy two tea parties, two romances and
two characters from one of the world’s most beloved authors.

In this historical romance short story duet gossip-loving Mrs Jennings meddles
in affairs of the heart, and scandalous Henry Crawford turns heads once again!

Be swept away by the amusements of the Regency tea party in
these Austen-inspired short stories. Delight in the sweet romance, dancing,
gossip and, of course, tea.

“But indeed I would rather have nothing but tea.”
― Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

 

Tea
for Two comprises two short stories:

 

Jilted

Lord Asher Mandeville is heartbroken when his childhood
love, Miss Tabitha Rowe, jilts him only weeks before their wedding.

Asher refuses to accept Tabitha’s rejection and chases after
his betrothed to demand an explanation.

Tabitha is determined to escape him, but Asher’s shattered
heart will accept nothing other than her return.

 

Wooing
Miss Woodforde

Jasper Trevethan loves Miss Sophie Woodforde, but he is a
penniless rake. Sophie would never marry him, even if he were rich.

As an impoverished companion, Sophie serves the whims of
others while pining for her employer’s scandalous nephew.

When an unexpected inheritance transforms Sophie’s life, she
becomes the target of fortune hunters.

Before another scoundrel steals his love, Jasper must prove
his devotion and woo Miss Woodforde. But Sophie would rather become an old maid
than marry a man who only wants her for her money, especially Mr Trevethan.

 

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Excerpt from Wooing Miss Woodforde

 

He headed to the drawing room.

While Sophie continued to hold his heart,
he could not bring himself to marry another. Yes, he had wasted his days living
off his brother while indulging in a life of idleness and pleasure-seeking. Now
he had no option but to pray his aunt left him her fortune. Perhaps then he
could offer for Sophie. She will never
marry a rake, you fool. As usual, he tamped down the bitter truth, but the
tiny flicker of hope that one day she may be his was the only thing that
prevented him from sinking further.

His aunt dropped onto the sofa before the
crackling hearth. “It does not help your cause that you continue to associate
with that scoundrel, Mr Crawford.”

Sophie carried out her duties in efficient
silence, pretending not to hear the details of his scandalous associations. How
he longed to take her away from this life of servitude. Someone so good, kind
and selfless deserved better.

After pouring the tea, she handed her
employer a cup.

Without a word of thanks to her companion,
his aunt continued, “There is still talk about his scandalous affair with Mrs
Rushworth. You should end the connection, for it will only sully your name
further. Your reputation as a rake does not help matters, but being associated
with an adulterer will not earn you a respectable bride. What must my dear
sister think of her favourite now?”

He accepted his cup from Sophie with his
head down and muttered his thanks. Shame gnawed at his insides. If his mother
had not died of typhus before he reached his tenth year, she would have been
sorely disappointed in him.

Why could he not be a better man? He should
have sought a profession after university. If he had done something useful,
perhaps, he may have earned Sophie’s good opinion and won her heart. Instead,
he had wasted his life. He was a hopeless rake beyond salvage, in love with a
woman far above him in noble character. Even if he were rich, she would always
be too good for him.

Sophie sat on the sofa next to his aunt and
twiddled with a delicate curl at her nape.

He had to ask again. “Are you certain you
are well, Miss Woodforde?”

“Stop trying to misdirect the attention
from yourself, Trevethan.” Aunt Hammond sipped at her tea.

Wispy tendrils of steam rose from the beige
liquid in his cup, and he tamped down the urge to ask for something stronger.
Liquor would have to wait. Even though nothing eased the painful longing within
him lately.

He could not resist being drawn to the
source of his yearning while she stared at the flickering flames in the hearth.
What had happened to the woman who enjoyed lecturing him about the latest
philanthropic project she wished to support or teased him following the gossip
surrounding his misadventures? Not that he had many these days unless one
counted spending the evenings drinking brandy with Crawford while they both
pined for the women they loved but could not possess.

“Trevethan!” he jerked his head towards his
aunt. Her narrowed gaze bore into him. Had he given himself away?

She glowered, then said, “Miss Woodforde
has received some surprising news today that has unsettled her.”

Sophie’s head shot up; her wide gaze
directed towards her employer.

“I hope it is nothing serious?” My God, she
was ill. “Is there anything I can
do?”

Aunt Hammond scoffed. “It is not unwelcome
news—well, not for Miss Woodforde.”

“Mrs Hammond.” Sophie pleaded, but as
usual, his aunt could not be silenced.

“Miss Woodforde is now an heiress with
twenty thousand.”

His breath stuttered.

On the opposite sofa, Sophie’s head lolled
forward, and she ran a palm across her forehead.

Sophie was a wealthy woman—a single,
wealthy woman. That meant she no longer needed to work for his aunt. He would
not see her when he visited.

Aunt Hammond asked, “Will you not offer
your congratulations?”

He glanced at his aunt before returning his
attention to Sophie, whose shoulders slumped.

A burning sensation spread down his gullet,
and he swallowed. “Congratulations, Miss Woodforde.”

His aunt sniffed. “She is almost maudlin;
anyone would think a beloved family member had died.”

Sophie continued to stare into the teacup
in her lap. She would leave, and he would never see her again.

Aunt Hammond prattled on. “Heaven knows
why, but she wishes to keep it a secret. She should marry, yet she insists she
will remain in my employment.”

Of course, her sense of duty would not
allow her to abandon his aunt. Selfish thoughts about her leaving had
distracted him from the more pressing issue. Another man would steal her from
him. His heart skipped a beat. He could not allow it.

 

 
 
 
 

Bianca
White writes passionate and spicy historical romance.

Bianca
loves history and has a degree in history and history of art. The word
“research” is often used as an excuse to drag members of her family
around every stately home and castle wherever they go. Nothing, not even
the grumbling of said family, will keep her away from a historical fashion
exhibition.

When she’s
not writing, Bianca feeds her addiction to romance novels. She also loves
baking and watching movies. Thanks to her love of baking (and eating), she
feels the need to balance it with a little activity and enjoys tai chi,
aerobics and swimming.

Bianca
lives in West Yorkshire, England, with her husband and two children.

To receive
all the latest news from Bianca White, and a bit of history in your inbox, sign
up for her mailing list at Bianca White Writes.

 

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $10 giveaway!

 
 
Enter the Tea For Two Giveaway Here
 

RELEASE BLITZ: To Beguile a Banished Lord by Fearne Hill

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Title: To Beguile a Banished Lord

Series: Regency Rossingley, Book Three

Author: Fearne Hill

Cover Artist: Mandy Porto

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/11/2025

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 294

Genre: Historical, historical romance/British Regency, gay, bisexual, age-gap, humorous, sunny/grumpy, hurt-comfort, humorous

Add to Goodreads

Description

Rollo Duchamps-Avery, the high-spirited second son of the eleventh Earl of Rossingley, is not in his father’s best books. After one misdemeanour too many, the earl ruins Rollo’s idyllic summer by packing him off to the wilds of rural Norfolk, arranging for him to stay with the Duke of Ashington’s loathsome brother.

Lord Lyndon Fitzsimmons has an aversion to houseguests. Shunned by polite society for crimes far wickeder than anything Rollo could dream up, all Fitzsimmons wants is to drink himself into a stupor, tend his beloved hydrangeas, and take potshots at tin soldiers.

If only his inquisitive young visitor, with his pretty little head of wispy blond hair, his stupidly coltish legs, and his knack of always being where Fitzsimmons would rather him not, would leave him in peace.

This third book in the Rossingley Regency romance series features the fourteenth Earl of Rossingley’s lively second son, Rollo, and the Duke of Ashington’s disgraced brother, Lord Lyndon Fitzsimmons. This book can be read as a standalone.

Excerpt

To Beguile a Banished Lord
Fearne Hill © 2025
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Rossingley Estate, Summer, 1825

I must not swive the stable boy (again).

I must not swive the stable boy (again).

I must not swive the stable boy (again).

I must not…

“Crocodile tears won’t save you this time, Master Rollo.”

Pritchard’s lisping note of triumph was unmistakeable. “No matter how prettily you shed them, you’ve pushed your papa too far. He is provoked beyond measure.”

“He’d be his usual fine and dandy self if you hadn’t gone running to inform him.”

“My primary role in the Rossingley household is to serve the earl,” answered Pritchard, as prissy and prim as ever. “Not his licentious offspring.”

Rollo harboured an ugly notion that his father’s valet had been waiting a long time for this moment, possibly since when Rollo, at age four, had sprinkled rich, resinous lily pollen amongst Papa’s meticulously folded white linens. It had been the opening salvo of a rather jolly dislike of each other.

“You’re relishing this, aren’t you, Pritchard?”

“Tremendously,” Pritchard confirmed.

Escape flitted across Rollo’s mind, but only for a second. One step ahead, and perhaps recalling the time Rollo had feinted past him and sprinted away across the lawns, Pritchard had brought along reinforcements in the form of two burly footmen stationed on either side of the library door. The window, alas, was closed.

Rollo shot a pleading look towards Kit Angel—Papa’s divine and terribly understanding paramour—currently decorating the settee, who shook his head. Everybody was loyal to Papa to a fault, and it was damned annoying.

“Sorry, old chap.” At least Kit sounded genuine. “For what it’s worth, I tried to talk your father out of it. Some of us enjoy having you around.”

What did he mean by having you around? Rollo wasn’t planning on going anywhere, unless swallow diving headfirst out of the nearest window and running for the hills until Papa had calmed down counted. And talk him out of what?

Before Rollo could further parse Kit’s words, Papa himself swept into the library, dressed in his favourite chartreuse silk banyan and pearls. Rollo coveted both immensely. As always, the eleventh earl was impeccably turned out, though this morning, his flamboyant attire sat at odds with the discomfiting, frigid set of his mouth. Rollo barely dared meet his pale eyes; when his mouth looked as grim as that, his gaze could freeze a lake.

“Rollo, my darling.”

Rollo winced. Only a fool would mistake the endearment for anything other than an affectation.

“Yes, Papa.”

The ice-chip eyes glittered. “You know why you’re here, I assume?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Experience taught Rollo that short answers tended to be met more favourably. Unfortunately, his smart mouth had a lamentable tendency to act independently of his mind. “Writing out I must not swive the stable boy one hundred times was a significant clue. The lack of hot water in my room this morning more subtle. But no less vexing.”

The faintest ghost of a smile twitched his father’s lips, gone in an instant. Even in the midst of a scolding, Rollo still appreciated he had the best of fathers. Most would have introduced his arse to the switch long ago.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Rollo?”

Rollo straightened his shoulders. Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb and all that. The importance of standing up for himself had been instilled in him from a young age; Papa could hardly complain now he was reaping what he’d sown.

“Yes, Papa. Several things, actually.”

Papa sighed. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“Firstly, my wrist aches.” Rollo waggled it to demonstrate. “I have indelible green ink stains on my second-favourite blush waistcoat, and I’m still frightfully chilly. And, for the record, Ellis was an able, willing, practiced, and—dare I say—extremely encouraging participant.”

“Naturally, he was; you paid him two pounds!”

“And it was very well deserved.”

“And then a further crown, on account, for future favours!”

Goodness, Pritchard had been busy. Rollo shot him an evil look, though in having his financial transactions laid out so bluntly, his bravura hung by a thread.

“At risk of repeating myself,” Rollo ploughed on, “I considered it money well spent. Ellis has several strings to his bow.”

“Evidently.”

His father’s fine blond brows knit together. The line between standing up for himself and cheeking Papa was a fine one; Rollo had a sneaking suspicion he might have tiptoed across it.

“Darling Rollo,” began his father, a layer of frost coating each syllable. “For all I care, our stable boy could have the whole string section of London’s prestigious Philharmonic Society tucked behind the fall of his breeches. And you could have twanged every single instrument.”

Rollo had been on his knees attempting exactly that until he’d been discovered by the second groom, who’d blabbed to the head groom, who’d gone tittle-tattling to Pritchard.

“Nevertheless, as you are well aware, there is nothing I detest more than fortunate, well-heeled members of society taking advantage of those in their employ.” With an irritable flick of his hand, Papa waved away Rollo’s attempt to defend his actions. “That Ellis was willing is an irrelevance. You placed the man in a devilishly awkward position, and I simply will not tolerate it. Have I made myself crystal clear?”

“Yes, Papa,” he replied meekly. “Sorry, Papa.”

“And so you should be.”

Yet to be mollified, his father folded his arms and began pacing in front of the fireplace. “The simple truth remains. Our loyal servants are out of bounds. I distinctly recall this being made perfectly clear to you when you returned from Eton last year. Did I not?”

Rollo hung his head. “Yes, Papa.”

“If it had been your first demeanour and you had been totally in the dark, then, of course, I would instruct you on how a Duchamps-Avery should behave. It would be remiss of me not to. But, as it is, the fact that you stand here, arguing the point after all I’ve…”

Ahhh, to begin the day with one of Papa’s sweet lectures. Rollo didn’t need to tune in for the rest. He knew how things ran. Their disputes were well rehearsed operatic duets, composed of increasing exasperation on Papa’s part, Rollo feigning abject apology, a discourse on how a Duchamps-Avery should conduct themselves, ending with a loving embrace and a promise to do better. As usual, Pritchard and Kit had been making a fuss over nothing. Rollo would bow his head a few times, continue to appear suitably repentant, and ride this one out.

Content in the sure knowledge he was loved, Rollo’s thoughts drifted. In a few moments, Papa would fizzle out and decree his penance. Idly, Rollo wondered what it might be. Papa was nothing if not creative. Over the years, Rollo’s punishments had ranged from counting all the earwigs in the orangery (aged five, he was discovered hiding in the coal cellar after two hours of searching) to scrubbing the scullery steps with a toothbrush (for convincing his twin brother, Willoughby, that eating crushed pinecones would allow him to see better in the dark). Willoughby casting up his accounts the next morning during the church sermon aside, some of Rollo’s so-called punishments had turned into rather good fun. Like the time he was consigned to digging over the vegetable patch and unearthed an adder, which had slithered over Pritchard’s foot.

“To that end, Rollo, it is high time you had a firmer hand. My own father, rest his soul, oft quoted that a rose bush must be heavily pruned in order to produce the best blooms. And, on this occasion, I believe he was speaking with the weight of wisdom. Don’t you agree?”

Papa’s lecture appeared to have taken a horticultural detour. “Er…yes?”

“Excellent.” His father clapped his hands. “Therefore, Dobson will accompany you when you depart for your trip to Norfolk this afternoon, see you safely settled in, and return to collect you in three months’ time.”

“D-Dobson will…what?” Rollo’s happy flights of reminiscence screeched to a halt. Did…did he…did…? “Sorry, Papa, I must have misheard. Did you just say Dobson’s accompanying me to Norfolk?”

“Got it in one, darling. You are clever. To Goule Hall, to be precise. On the edge of the Broads, between some hellish backwater named Stokesby and another provincial bog going by the name of Wroxham, I believe. A delightful, if not a tad isolated, property belonging to the Ashington estate. The duke’s twin brother, Lord Lyndon Fitzsimmons, remains in residence after spending an enforced period of seclusion there a couple of years ago, whilst he…ah…reflected on several episodes of…ah…poor behaviour in and around the ton. I shall spare you the details. Suffice to say that in comparison, dear boy, your antics are those of a rank amateur.”

This Lord Lyndon Fitz-something-or-other could have kidnapped the moon from under the noses of the sun and the stars for all that Rollo cared. “And this…this Goule Hall is in Norfolk?” he clarified, aghast. Perhaps, somehow, his father was confusing Norfolk with Mayfair.

Alas, no.

“Unless the hall has been excavated and deposited elsewhere since the duke and I corresponded less than a week ago, then yes.”

“And Willoughby is coming too,” Rollo decreed, praying if he said it with enough confidence, that would somehow make it true.

His father shook his head. “On the contrary. Willoughby will be travelling to London with me. I plan to use the time you are apart to begin schooling your brother in the rudiments of my business affairs.” He flashed Rollo an evil little smile very much like Rollo’s own, displaying all of his sharp pointed teeth. “And perhaps take the opportunity to do some shopping, pay a visit to my tailor, and so forth.”

Ugh. That was a low blow. Rollo didn’t give two hoots for learning about business. Willoughby would inherit the title and all that nonsense, anyhow. But how he adored their family shopping expeditions! Much more than Willoughby ever did.

Pritchard made an odd noise, quickly covering his mouth with his hand. Knowing the blasted valet, the whole thing had been his bloody idea. He’d always enjoyed having the earl to himself. Rollo would have said so, too, if every ounce of his not inconsiderable intelligence wasn’t fixated on desperately seeking a way out of the barren wasteland now known as his immediate future. Because, from where he was sitting, Norfolk already seemed horribly like a fait accompli. Three months. Three summer months. Stuck with a dull, ancient lord, in a draughty old hall in the middle of effing nowhere. They might as well just shoot him with a musket ball now and be done with it.

He tried one last time. “Ha ha, very funny. But…really, Papa? Norfolk? Cold, flat, windy Norfolk? Even Bonaparte wasn’t exiled to Norfolk!”

“No.” The earl tilted his white-blond head, so like Rollo’s own, in gentle acknowledgement. “But then, my dear, Napoleon Bonaparte wasn’t a spoiled second son of an earl, caught swiving one of my stable boys when he’d been given explicit instructions not to manhandle the servants. Pritchard? Ring for Dobson, if you would be so kind. I do believe Rollo’s valises are already packed.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Fearne Hill is a British writer of queer romance and the winner of the 2025 Lambda Literary Award for LGBTQ Romance. When she’s not crafting characters who fall hard and kiss slowly, she works as an anaesthesiologist. She lives in the deepest Dorset countryside with her beloved spaniels.

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BOOK BLITZ & GIVEAWAY: The Forged Empire by Samantha Gillespie

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The Forged Empire
Samantha Gillespie
(The Kingdom Within, #3)
Publication date: July 15th 2025
Genres: Historical Romance, Young Adult

She married a prince. She loved a soldier.
Now she must decide what she’s willing to sacrifice to save them all.

As the specter of war looms, Meredith Ethan, and Connor are thrust into a final, desperate struggle for freedom. With Stonefall reclaimed and the plague’s grip finally broken, they must now race to forge new alliances before Theros-the ruthless King of Talos-brings his twisted vision of an empire to life.

But Theros’s ambitions run deeper than conquest-and Meredith is at the heart of his plans.

As betrayals mount and loyalties are tested, she finds herself caught between the prince she married and the soldier she never forgot.

And beneath the weight of destiny, Meredith must decide who she truly is:
a queen who must learn to believe in her own strength… or a pawn in a game she can no longer control.

In a war where survival means sacrifice, the price of freedom may be everything.

The final battle is here. And only one legacy will endure.

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—

EXCERPT:

A tremor starts in my hands again, subtle but insistent. I clench my fists, willing it to stop.

“My lady?” Anabella appears near the foot of the staircase, her wide eyes fixed on me, worry plain in her gaze.

My pulse pounds harder in my ears, and the air feels thick, suffocating. A bead of sweat traces a line down my temple, and I lift a trembling hand to brush it away. The motion betrays me. My uncle’s eyes narrow, alarm darkening his expression.

“You’re quite pale,” he remarks, his voice softer now but no less authoritative. “Sit down before you fall.”

“I’m fine,” I say, gritting my teeth. “It’s just a dizzy spell—”

The room wavers, and a sharp pain lances through my temple. I dig my nails into the carved wood of a nearby table, struggling to stay upright. Voices fade into a muffled roar behind the pounding in my ears. My legs threaten to buckle, yet I take a step forward . . . feeling as if the crown itself is dragging me down.

“Meredith!” Anabella cries out, her fear breaking through decorum. She rushes forward, but someone stops her—a hand grabbing her arm, likely my uncle’s.

“No one is to approach her!” The command explodes from my uncle’s throat like a war cry, freezing everyone mid-step. “She was inoculated this morning—she could be infected!”

Infected.

Understanding dawns like poison spreading through my veins. They think the inoculation failed. They think I’m a walking plague, a vector of death.

Am I?

My knees buckle as the implications cascade through my mind. The room warps and tilts, faces stretching into grotesque masks of fear and revulsion.

“Please, let me help her!” Anabella’s voice cracks with desperation, cutting through the growing pandemonium. “She’s fainting—she needs—”

My uncle stops her. “Stay where you are, woman, or I’ll have you restrained!”

I struggle to form reassurances, denials, anything. But my tongue lies thick and useless in my mouth. The marble floor begins its inexorable rise to meet me, my legs folding like paper beneath my weight. Colors bleed together, the world smearing into an impressionist nightmare.

“Get the physician! Now!” My uncle’s bellow seems to come from very far away, echoing down a tunnel of gathering darkness.

I’m falling—but suddenly strong arms encircle me, crushing me against a chest that thunders with someone else’s racing heartbeat. The scent of leather and pine fills my fading senses, achingly familiar.

“Get away from her!” the duke roars. “You fool—you’re putting yourself at risk! Guards, pull him back!”

“Try it.” Connor’s voice is a low growl. “See what happens.”

The threat hangs in the air, electric with promise. Even through my fading consciousness, I feel the tension ratchet higher, guards hesitating at the challenge in his tone.

Through the narrow slits of my barely-open eyes, I see Connor’s face swimming above me, those midnight-blue eyes fierce with determination. His jaw is set in stone, daring anyone to test him. His lips move urgently, forming words that reach me only as distant whispers, lost in the roaring tide of unconsciousness.

The last thing I register is his arms tightening around me, unyielding as iron, before the darkness swallows me whole.


Author Bio:

Samantha Gillespie writes the kind of romantasy novels she loves to read: stories packed with forbidden love, slow-burn tension, and just enough angst to keep you up way past your bedtime.

She lives in Houston with her husband and their ever-expanding menagerie—cats who’ve crowned themselves royalty, a dog with strong opinions about the weather, and chickens whose sole mission is acquiring treats and destroying the yard. When she’s not breaking hearts through fiction, she thrives on copious amounts of coffee, sharp wit, and the delicious tears of her devoted readers.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram


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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY: Some Call Me Eve by T. Pike

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Enemies bound by desire.

Allies torn by fate.

Some Call Me Eve

by T. Pike

Genre: Historical Romance

Princess Evangeline has an insatiate lust for power. As her
kingdom’s most feared warrior and heiress to the throne, she plans to one day
rule in her father’s place, just as she rules over countless men during secret
nights of sin.

But when the castle falls to a new enemy, Evangeline becomes
a slave in her own kingdom, forced to obey the heartless queen’s commands to
honor her father’s dying wish: to protect her people.

The princess craves vengeance, but can she resist the carnal
magnetism between her and Prince Rune, the queen’s son and royal pawn? And as
rebellion brews, can she trust Rune, the man with the power to quench her
torrid flames, to be her greatest ally?

**Releases July 21st – PreOrder Now!**

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Author’s Site * Bookbub * Goodreads

T. Pike grew up in Northwest Arkansas where she swam
competitively for more than 17 years. After graduating from Texas A&M
University with an English degree and All-American honors, she returned home to
pursue her master’s in English and write her debut novel: Some Call Me Eve. Now
a law student, she enjoys running and hiking with her dogs and exploring the
mountains with her partner.

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $30 giveaway!

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NEW RELEASE BLITZ: To Tempt a Troubled Earl by Fearne Hill

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Title: To Tempt a Troubled Earl

Series: Regency Rossingley, Book One

Author: Fearne Hill

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/04/2025

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 77200

Genre: Historical, historical romance, gay, UK, aristocracy, rich man/poor man, enemies to lovers, hurt-comfort, humorous, slow burn, opposites attract, scoundrels

Add to Goodreads

Description

A chancer and a rogue, Kit Angel is down on his luck. Presenting himself at Rossingley Hall in the dead of night, he begs an audience with the eleventh earl, the most enigmatic nobleman in Regency England.
The visit has purpose. Kit, hungry to ruin the baronet who ruined his sister, believes Rossingley is the only man who can help him.

Lando Duchamps-Avery, Eleventh Earl of Rossingley, doesn’t trust the sinfully handsome stranger one bit. He does not care for the tales he spins, his hot temper, or his thick, ebony curls. And, most definitely, he is not in thrall to the delicious golden hoop dangling from Kit Angel’s left ear. Lando has his own motivations to ruin the same lord, and the two men form an uneasy alliance.

As the dangerous plot they hatch unfurls, the suspicious earl and the shady scoundrel are increasingly thrown together. Whilst the wily earl gradually surrenders to his growing attraction, Kit can’t make up his mind if he wants to swive him, declare undying love for him, or throttle him.

Bit by bit, as mutual desire swells between them, Kit wins over the earl’s body, his passion, and his trust.
But in order to win the earl’s elusive heart? The scoundrel must risk losing everything.

This first book in the new Rossingley Regency romance series introduces Lando Duchamps-Avery, nineteenth-century predecessor to Dr Lucian Avery of the contemporary Rossingley romance series. With Lando’s story, we return to southern England and the Rossingley estate. This book can be read as a standalone.

Excerpt

To Tempt a Troubled Earl
Fearne Hill © 2025
All Rights Reserved

Rossingley Estate

Summer, 1821

“You have visitors, my lord.”

Inglis floated across the eleventh Earl of Rossingley’s sleepy eyeline, looking peevish. Lando swore the man had silken castors in place of feet. With white-gloved hands clasped together in front of his vexed frame, his head butler awaited his response.

“And you have chosen to disturb me about this because…” Lando tilted his balloon of brandy this way and that, playing the flickering candlelight against the delicately engraved crystal. That the evening was late was an irrelevance. He and his butler were of the same accord; visitors at any time of day were unusual, unwarranted, and unwelcome.

“A Mr Christopher Angel, my lord. And his sister, Miss Anne. The young man says it’s important.”

One of a pair, the balloon glass had been a gift from dear Charles. “I know of no one named Angel. Begging the question ‘important for whom’?”

“He didn’t make that distinction, my lord,” admitted Inglis. “But he gave the impression the matter is somewhat urgent.”

Lando took a warming sip of brandy. The drink of the damned. He didn’t especially care for it, but he fancied it lent him a louche, philosophic air. “What is urgent is seldom important, Inglis,” he deemed, pleased with his wisdom. Rousseau himself might make a similar pronouncement. “If it’s alms he’s after, toss him a half-crown, some cold meats, and send him on his way.”

The gloved hands wrung together. “I did try that, my lord. But he’s…ah…more insistent than our usual callers, and neither is he a pauper. And…” Inglis paused. Never let it be said the butler couldn’t milk a drama. “He…he mentioned one of his close relations. His uncle. One…ah…a former cavalry officer sadly no longer with us, God rest his soul.”

As Inglis made the sign of the cross, Lando took another, more contemplative sip. So many good men had fallen during the wars in France, and a chap struggled to keep up. “Oh, yes?”

Inglis cleared his throat. “Yes. A…ah…Captain Charles Prosser, my lord.”

Like rancid vinegar, the fine liquor soured on the earl’s tongue. He fought to swallow it down. Perhaps he should have stuck to port after dinner. Maybe it would have better softened the dull ache now swelling behind his rib cage. Captain Prosser. His dearest Charles, his lover. His heart.

Lando didn’t make his older lover’s acquaintance until after the wars, from which Charles returned hale and hearty. But where French bayonets and the battlefields of Trafalgar had failed, the insidious wasting disease prevailed. An annoying tickle became a cough, a cough tinged with blood. Slowly, inexorably, his lover faded away, their time together, in all of its perfection, too brief. A life only half lived; a conversation forever unfinished. Lando, not daring to be at Charles’s bedside at the end, heard the news of his passing from a mutual friend some two weeks after his lover had been buried beneath Kentish loamy earth.

Three long years ago. Yet even now, at unprepared moments such as this—and was there ever such a thing as a prepared one?—that name still had a powerful hold upon the eleventh earl. If Inglis hadn’t broken the crushing silence, it might have persisted well into the night.

“I have taken the liberty of passing the young man’s sister over to Mrs Sugden, my lord. The girl is in a state of great distress. And I have shown her brother to the small parlour. He’s…ah…not fit for the library.”

Inglis’s waspish voice sounded as if coming from an awfully long way away. “My lord might wish to be more suitably attired before receiving him?”

Tipping back his fair head, Lando forced another swallow of fiery amber liquid. For a second or two, it threatened to reappear, then he pulled himself together. Ridiculous. Three years gone and one mention of Charles turned him into a limp dishrag. Well, it was high time it didn’t. Time to make a clean breast of things. Time to stop bloody moping. Charles would have hated him squandering his salad days drinking alone and brooding in front of a dying fire.

He cast his gaze down his spare frame. Fussy Inglis might wish him more suitably attired, but Lando gave not a fig. As purportedly one of the richest men in England, Lando could host a ball clad in only his underclothes, and the ton would declare it the latest fashion in Paris. He pinned Inglis to the spot with his pale eyes.

“I’m decent. Uninvited callers find me as I am, or not at all. As you damned well know.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Fearne Hill lives deep in the southern British countryside with three untamed sons, varying numbers of hens, a few tortoises, and a beautiful cocker spaniel.

When she is not overseeing her small menagerie, she enjoys writing contemporary romantic fiction. And when she is not doing either of those things, she works as an anaesthesiologist.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

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BOOK TOUR: A Dream in the Wilderness by Jean Hackensmith

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Hired as a nanny to Caleb Wachsmann’s three children, Sarah Bentley finds life in the Wisconsin Territory to be so much more.

 

Title: A Dream in the Wilderness

Author: Jean Hackensmith

Pages: 285

Genre: Historical Romance

Unable to find a teaching position in the flooded job market that is New York City, twenty-one-year-old Sarah Bentley accepts the position of nanny to Caleb Wachsmann’s three children after the farmer’s wife, parents, and infant son die in the Cholera epidemic of 1834. The twist? The job is in Superior, Wisconsin in the Michigan Territory, an unsettled wilderness located on the northwestern tip of Lake Superior.

Caleb is not looking for love; his heart will always belong to his beloved Annie. What he does need is a woman to watch after the children while he toils in the fields making a living for his family. Sarah turns out to be that woman. She raises his children with a gentle and loving hand and also helps Caleb to overcome an unbearable loss. As Wisconsin vies for statehood, the young couple will face challenge after challenge as they struggle to tame a wilderness that really doesn’t want to be tamed at all.

A Dream in the Wilderness is available at https://www.amazon.com/Dream-Wilderness-Saga-Book-ebook/dp/B0DJS19HMH.

 

Book Excerpt

Superior, Wisconsin

August 21, 1834

Caleb Wachsmann stood before the four open graves, his two eldest children on either side of him and the youngest in his arms. His entire body was numb. It still didn’t seem possible that all four of them could be gone. But they were. Cholera had taken them systematically, one by one. His father. His mother. His beloved wife, Annie, the mother of his children. His gaze settled on the last coffin, no more than three feet long. Inside was his six-month-old son, Danny.

Caleb and the older children got sick first. Caleb’s mother had been through other cholera epidemics and knew exactly what to do. They started boiling the drinking water from the nearby St. Louis River and, between her and Annie, and even his father, had forced tons of the bacteria-free water down their throats to prevent dehydration. At one time, Caleb joked that he thought he was going to float away.

He and the older children recovered. Then the rest of the family got sick. The rapid deterioration in their conditions made it impossible for Caleb to keep up with the hydration on all four of his patients. Danny was the first to succumb to the disease. He lasted only 24-hours after the first symptoms appeared. The others lasted two to three days.

Caleb couldn’t help but blame himself. He was responsible for their care, and he had failed.

“Pa?”

Caleb didn’t hear his son’s voice. He was too lost in his thoughts and his grief.

A yank on his shirt sleeve brought him back to reality.

“Pa!”

“What, Seth?” he asked with exasperation heavy in his tone as he looked down at the carrot-topped, freckle-faced boy before him. In fact, all of the children were the spitting image of their mother, and it made looking at them all the more painful.

“Why did we put Grandpa and Grandma and Ma and Danny in the ground? Grandma and Ma aren’t going to like it at all, cuz they don’t like to get dirty.”

Caleb stooped before his eight-year-old son, placing two-year-old Bethany on his knee, then indicated for the five-year-old Jenny to come closer, also. “Remember how I told you that your ma and Danny and your grandma and grandpa are in Heaven with God now?”

The two older children nodded.

“You see, what we put in the ground wasn’t your Mama and Danny anymore, or your grandma and grandpa. The part of her that made your mama your mama and Danny, Danny already went to Heaven.”

“Like their ghosts, you mean?” Seth asked.

“Their spirits,” Caleb corrected. “What’s in the ground is just what was left over and, in time, that part of them will go back to the ground.”

“But it still kinda looked like Ma when you and Father Hauley put the cover on the box,” Seth argued.

Caleb sighed his resignation. “Yes, it did. I don’t know how to explain it better, Seth. When you get older, you’ll understand.”

“So, who’s gonna take care of us now, Pa?” Jenny asked. “Mama and Grandma always took care of us when you and Grandpa were out in the fields plantin’ stuff.”

“I haven’t figured that out yet, honey, but I will.”

The little girl’s green eyes teared and her face scrunched up with her sadness. “I miss Mama, Pa. I want her to come back.”

The sight of his sister’s anguish brought renewed tears to Seth’s eyes also, and Caleb pulled both of them close. Bethany put pudgy arms around her older brother and sister and joined in the hug.

The traveling priest who had performed the ceremony, the only other person present at the burial, looked on in sympathy when he considered what lay ahead for the young father. It was unheard of for a man to raise three children on his own, especially a farmer who spent ten to twelve hours a day cultivating his fields. Yes, Caleb Wachsmann was going to have to find a woman, and he was going to have to do it soon.

– Excerpted from A Dream in the Wilderness by Jean Hackensmith, Jean Hackensmith, 2024. Reprinted with permission.

 

About the Author
 

I have been writing since the age of twenty. (That’s 47 years and, yes, I’m disclosing my age.) I am the proud mother of three and grandmother to four wonderful grandchildren. After losing who I thought was the love of my life, my late husband Ron, in November of 2011, I met Rick. So, it is definitely possible to have more than one “love of your life.” Rick and I were married in July of 2018 and are still going strong today. He is my soulmate, my confidant, and my biggest fan. He has read every book I have ever written (even the romances!) 

Next to writing, my second passion is live theater. I founded a local community theater group back in 1992 and directed upwards of 40 shows, including three that I authored. I also appeared on stage a few times, portraying Anna in The King and I and Miss Hannigan in Annie. I am sad to say that the theater group dropped its final curtain in 2008, but those 16 years will always hold some of my fondest memories. 

I moved from Superior 15 years ago, seeking the serenity of country living. I also wanted to get away from the natural air conditioning provided by Lake Superior. We moved only 50 miles south, but the temperature can vary by 20-30 degrees. I guess I’m a country girl at heart. I simply love this area, and am lucky to, once again, have someone to share its beauty. I love the solitude, the picturesque beauty of the sun rising over the water, the strangely calming effect of watching a deer graze outside your kitchen window. Never again, will I live in the city. I am an author, after all, and what better place to be inspired than in God’s own backyard.

Let’s Connect!

Website: https://www.jeanhackensmith.com.

X: https://x.com/Author911 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/p/jean-hackensmith-61554012674412/ 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/review/list/32957713?ref=nav_mybooks 

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BOOK TOUR & GIVEAWAY: Teacups and Temptations by Kate Ellington

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TEACUPS AND TEMPTATIONS
Kate Ellington
Genre: Historical Romance

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About the Book

Molly Merriwether readily accepts an invitation to Waverly Hall, eager for adventure and amusement with her best friend. She never expected to be left unchaperoned with three intriguing young gentlemen for weeks.

Roger Bailey, recuperating in more ways than one, avoids Molly until her kindness and humor tempt him to deepen their acquaintance.

Molly lands in one unlikely escapade after the next with Roger and soon considers him a friend—perhaps more—but the barriers he puts up make it impossible to truly know him. Has she only imagined those tender looks in his eyes?

For a chance at love, Molly will need to bare her innermost self and trust someone more deeply than she’s ever dreamed possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excerpt

“Not having chaperones has made it all the more interesting.” Molly glanced outside, where the men stood in a circle talking.

“Auntie’s going to be so upset when she finds out,” Caroline said.

“Perhaps she never will.”

Caroline clicked her tongue. “Of course she will. She’ll tell our parents.”

“Then we’d better enjoy ourselves while we still can.”

About to sip her juice, Caroline set the glass down. “I know that look, Molly. What are you planning?”

“Oh, I just thought we might have a poke around while the gentlemen are otherwise occupied.”

Outside, the men had set out across the field toward the kennels.

“We’ve done enough poking around,” Caroline said. “We’ll probably get lost again.”

“No. We’ve done enough poking around that we won’t get lost. And there’s that arched door we saw in the east wing other day.”

“It’s most likely a broom closet.”

Molly rose, leaving her napkin on the table. “It’s in the corner of an empty room on the third floor.

And with such an elaborate door? There were vines engraved on it.”

“The room wasn’t empty—it looked like an old sewing room. I’m sure it’s nothing of interest.”

“We won’t know until we look.”

“You’re doing this no matter what I say, aren’t you?” Caroline asked.

“You don’t have to come.” Molly gave her an angelic smile as she backed toward the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About the Author

Kate grew up in a woodsy New England town where summer days at the lake seemed to last forever. She read her first historical romance at age eleven when a teacher challenged her to find a book in the library written by an author she’d never heard of. Thus began a life-long love of love stories.

After graduating from college she settled in the Pacific Northwest, where she currently resides with her family.

Kate wrote her first romance when she was sixteen, then set her pen down for years until another story floated into her head out of the clear blue sky. She jotted it down, just for fun, but soon it took on a life of its own.

Website: http://www.kateellington.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kateellingtonwrites

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/29720924.Kate_Ellington

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DGQMN6GX/ref=sr_1_1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GIVEAWAY INFORMATION:

The author will be awarding a $20 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner.

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BOOK BLAST: Loving Lizzie Finn by Tamara Hughes

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Lizzie Finn grew up in a brothel, and she’s reminded of that fact every day. She dreams of finding a job and becoming independent. Only then can she be free of her aunt’s disdain. First, she must find an employer who won’t turn her away because of her past.

Byron Greeley is determined to save his family’s business after Lizzie’s uncle falsifies the amount Byron owes on a loan from the bank. Determined to find proof of Teague’s perfidy, Byron slips into the banker’s house and rummages through the study only to be discovered by Lizzie, a red-haired beauty who utterly captivates him.

Byron offers Lizzie a job in exchange for information about her uncle, and because she believes her uncle is innocent, she agrees. When Teague discovers Lizzie and Byron’s growing affection, he threatens to destroy Byron and his family, insisting Byron is exploiting her. Is Teague’s warning well-founded? Are Byron’s feelings for Lizzie true, or is Byron using her for his own gain?

Read an Excerpt

A spring in her step, Emma placed the rose gown on the bed and returned to the wardrobe. “I saw the most handsome man last night.”

Lizzie’s pulse leaped. “You did?” Had Emma seen the drunken stranger in Uncle’s study? The handsome intruder had occupied Lizzie’s thoughts all night long.

“Of course I did. He is a sight for sore eyes.” Emma returned with the green skirt and carefully lowed it over Lizzie’s head. “Dark eyes, almost black in color, with a gaze so intense he nearly stole my breath.”

Yes. Exactly. As much as she’d tried, she couldn’t get the memory of those eyes out of her head.

Emma secured the skirt and grabbed the bodice. “And his hair, the same as his eyes, black as night.”

Slipping her arms into the sleeves, Lizzie disagreed, “I would hardly call it black, more a dark brown, the color of chestnuts. Which suits him quite well.” With strong, bold features, and a lean frame … She smiled a little when she thought of him. A handsome devil to be sure.

Emma came around to face Lizzie and began to button the gown’s front. “No. I’m quite sure Felix has darker hair than that.”

“Felix?” Had that been his name?

“Yes, our new footman.”

Footman? Lizzie’s cheeks flamed, and her smile dissipated. The man she’d met last night was no footman. He’d spoken of running his family’s business. How embarrassing to be caught admiring a complete stranger. What was wrong with her?

About the Author:

A small-town girl with a big imagination, Tamara Hughes had no idea what to do with her life. After graduating from college, she moved to a big city, started a family and a job, and still struggled to find that creative outlet she craved. An avid reader of romance, she gave writing a try and became hooked on the power of exploring characters, envisioning adventures, and creating worlds. She enjoys stories with interesting twists and heroines who have the grit to surmount any obstacle, all without losing the ability to laugh. To learn more, stop by her website: http://www.tamarahughes.com.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/tamarahughesauth
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tamara-hughes
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tamara.hughes2/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7738043.Tamara_Hughes
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/tamarahughes

Buy link for Loving Lizzie Finn: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DFMQ4X1H

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BOOK TOUR: Amulet’s Rapture by Linnea Tanner

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Book Title: Amulet’s Rapture

Series: (Curse of Clansmen and Kings Book 3)

Author Name: Linnea Tanner

Audiobook Narrator: Kristin James

“Amulet’s Rapture by Linnea Tanner is the story of the survival and transformation of Catrin. The plot is packed with action, politics, corruption, ambition, prophecies, and ancient magic. With a gripping plot, mindblowing storytelling, and unpredictable twists, Amulet’s Rapture by Linnea Tanner is going to be among my top three favorites of this year.” — Ankita Shukla for Readers’ Favorite

Blood stains her Celtic home and kingdom. The warrior Druid princess will do anything to retake her kingdom.

Although Catrin is the rightful heir to the Celtic throne in Britannia, she is lucky to be alive. After witnessing the slaughter of her family at the hands of her half-brother, who was aided by the Romans, she is enslaved by a Roman commander. He disguises her as a boy in the Roman Legion with the belief that she is an oracle of Apollo and can foretell his future. The sole bright spot in her miserable new life is her forbidden lover Marcellus, the great-grandson of the famed Roman General Mark Antony.

But Marcellus has been wounded and his memories of Catrin and their secret marriage were erased by a dark Druidess. Though Marcellus reunites with Catrin in Gaul and becomes her ally as she struggles to survive the brutality of her Roman master, he questions the legitimacy of their marriage and hesitates to help her escape and retake her kingdom. If their forbidden love and alliance are discovered, her dreams of returning to her Celtic home with Marcellus will be shattered.

Book Trailer on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gjYCvgdKzQI

Buy Links:

Amulet’s Rapture isavailable to read on #KindleUnlimited.

*Amulet’s Rapture is free on Kindle on October 17th – 21st, 2024*

Universal Buy Link:  https://books2read.com/Amulets-Rapture-Book3

Universal Buy Links for Individual Books in Curse of Clansmen and Kings series:

Apollo’s Raven (Book 1): https://books2read.com/Apollos-Raven

Dagger’s Destiny (Book 2): https://books2read.com/Daggers-Destiny-Book2

Amulet’s Rapture (Book 3): https://books2read.com/Amulets-Rapture-Book3

Skull’s Vengeance (Book 4): https://books2read.com/Skulls-Vengeance-Book4

Series Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07GVCZJ8M

Author Bio:

Award-winning author, Linnea Tanner, weaves Celtic tales of love, magical adventure, and political intrigue in Ancient Rome and Britannia. Since childhood, she has passionately read about ancient civilizations and mythology. She is particularly interested in the enigmatic Celts, who were reputed as fierce warriors and mystical Druids.

Linnea has extensively researched ancient and medieval history, mythology, and archaeology and has traveled to sites described within each of her books in the Curse of Clansmen and Kings series. Books released in her series include Apollo’s Raven (Book 1), Dagger’s Destiny (Book 2), Amulet’s Rapture (Book 3), and Skull’s Vengeance (Book 4). She has also released the historical fiction short story Two Faces of Janus.

A Colorado native, Linnea attended the University of Colorado and earned both her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in chemistry. She lives in Fort Collins with her husband and has two children and six grandchildren.

Author Links:

Website: https://www.linneatanner.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/linneatanner

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/linnea.tanner

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/linnea-tanner-a021932b/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/linneatanner/

Threads: https://www.threads.net/@linneatanner

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/linneatanner/_created/

Book Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/linnea-tanner

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Linnea-Tanner/e/B01N6YEM04

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16474282.Linnea_Tanner

BOOK TOUR: The Witch of Breton Woods by Jennifer Ivy Walker

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Book Title: The Witch of the Breton Woods

Author: Jennifer Ivy Walker

Publication Date:  July 10, 2024

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

Pages: 163

Genre: historical romance/ romantic suspense

Traumatized by horrors witnessed during the Nazi invasion of France, a young woman retreats to the dense Breton woods where she becomes a member of the clandestine French Resistance. When she finds a critically injured American paratrooper whose plane was shot down, she shelters the wounded soldier in her secluded cottage, determined to heal him despite the enormous risk.


Ostracized by villagers who have labeled her a witch, she is betrayed by an informant who reports to the Butcher—the monstrous leader of the local paramilitary organization that collaborates with the Germans. As the enemy closes in, she must elude the Gestapo while helping the Resistance reunite the American with his regiment and join the Allied Forces in the Battle of Brittany.

Can true love triumph against all odds under the oppressive Third Reich?

Buy Link:

Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/u/mdAzww

Author Interview:

Often writers started out as readers. Was there a particular book that inspired you to be an author?

Yes, Marion Zimmer Bradley’s novel, The Mists of Avalon. I discovered how much I LOVE Arthurian legend and the Forest of Brocéliande, birthplace of Merlin, the Lady of the Lake Viviane, and Lancelot, the First Knight of Camelot. Many of my novels take place in Brocéliande, and there are a couple subtle references to that enchanted forest in The Witch of the Breton Woods.

Do you tend to read the same genre you write?

Mostly, yes. I prefer reading medieval romance and historical fantasy, especially tales from Celtic or Nordic myths and legends.

Do you have a favorite time period to write about? If so, why?

I prefer to write medieval stories, for I have always loved tales of chivalrous knights and Arthurian legend, but unlike most of the novels I have read, my stories take place in France rather than England or Scotland.

How long have you been writing, and how long did it take before your first book was published?

Although I have wanted to be a writer since I was eleven years old, I didn’t start writing my first novel, The Wild Rose and the Sea Raven, until two years ago. That debut novel evolved into my award-winning trilogy of the same name.

Now, I am proud to say that I have had seven (soon to be eight) novels published through The Wild Rose Press. I have also just completed my ninth novel, Dragon of Denmark, and am halfway through my tenth —Wolf of the Nordic Seas–both of which are part of my new Viking historical romance fantasy series which takes place in 10th century Normandy. I hope to have my Valiant Vikings trilogy published in early 2025!

What is the scariest thing you face as a writer? How do you handle it?

The scariest thing for me as a writer is getting a 1 star review. I don’t think people realize when they leave such a low rating, how much that can kill a writer who is trying to attract potential readers. I handle it by having a good cry and going for a long beach walk. It’s really difficult to keep going after a hard knock like that.

If you could pick your top 3 favorite books of all time, what would they be?

The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley, A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas, and Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens.

Author Bio:

Jennifer Ivy Walker has an MA in French literature and is a former high school teacher and professor of French at a state college in Florida.  Her novels encompass a love for French language, literature, history, and culture, incorporating her lifelong study, summers abroad, and many trips to France.

The Witch of the Breton Woods is heart-pounding suspense set during WWII in Nazi-occupied France, where a young woman in the French Resistance shelters and heals a wounded American soldier, hiding him from the Gestapo and the monstrous Butcher who are relentlessly hunting him.

Author Links:

Website: https://jenniferivywalker.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/bohemienneivy

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

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jennifer-ivy-walker-685b58248/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jenniferivywalkerauthor/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/bohemienneivy/

Book Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-witch-of-the-breton-woods-by-jennifer-ivy-walker

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Jennifer-Ivy-Walker/author/B0B91R2MJZ

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22671046.Jennifer_Ivy_Walker