1815 Along the wild and untamed coast of Cornwall, smuggling is not only a way of life, but a means of survival. Henrietta Morton knows well to look the other way when the free trading ‘gentlemen’ are at work. Yet when a notorious pirate, known as The Rogue, bursts in on her in the village shop, she takes things one step further. Bewitched by a pair of wicked blue eyes, in a moment of insanity she hides the handsome fugitive from the local Militia. Her reward is a kiss that she just cannot forget. But in his haste to escape with his life, her pirate drops a letter, inadvertently giving Henri incriminating information about the man she just helped free. When her father gives her hand in marriage to a wealthy and villainous nobleman in return for the payment of his debts, Henri becomes desperate. Blackmailing a pirate may be her only hope for freedom.
My review…
5 stars!
Pirates. A feisty heroine. And a lord who isn’t as he seems… All the makings of a delicious read.
Henri (Henrietta) is far from conventional for a woman of her time. She wants adventure, but even more, she wants to be loved. Money and titles aren’t enough for her. Needless to say, the day she saved a pirate changed her life forever.
Captain Savage isn’t just a pirate. There are mystery and intrigue surrounding him, and a past he thought long gone. He’s not the sort to settle down, and certainly doesn’t think he’s good enough for the likes of Henri, but she’s determined to prove him wrong.
There were moments I laughed out loud, sighed, or frantically flipped the pages to see what happened next. With just enough action to keep you on the edge of your seat, a rogue who tries to do the right thing, and a woman who will settle for nothing less than the man she loves, this book is definitely worthy of 5-stars and then some.
*Disclaimer: Neither the author nor publisher requested a review. I purchased/borrowed via Amazon and am leaving this review strictly as my opinion of the title.
Haunted by questions and her own insecurities, Lady Emily Sinclair longs to discover why her betrothed abandoned her and married another. Seven years have passed, but the pain of his betrayal still lingers, buried beneath layers of humiliation and mistrust. When he returns after the Napoleonic Wars, she vows to avoid him. If only her foolish heart felt the same.
Broken and addicted to his medication, widower Andrew Quimby, Lord Cardmore, rattles around his ancient manor, oblivious to his deteriorating health and state of mind. When he learns the woman he was forced to abandon remains unmarried, he vows to try to win her back, even if it means returning to a society he despises.
But Andrew soon discovers he has a secret enemy. Threatening notes appear and sinister accidents put those in his inner circle in danger. Can he overcome his demons in time to keep them safe or will everyone and everything he loves disappear forever.
A tiny birdlike woman with sharp features stared at him from across the room. Her bonnet and outwear lay neatly on a chair. Next to it was the heavy woolen coat and hat of the young boy with frightened eyes who clutched her hand.
Andrew’s breath hitched as he looked at the child. Blue eyes, glistening with unshed tears, peeked up at him from a narrow face with a defiant chin. His guinea-gold tousled hair was cut short and his clothes were fashionable, albeit wrinkled.
The woman raised her head and glared at him. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I realize the hour is late. My name is Bricker. I was told to deliver Master George to you and then be on my way. I’ve taken a room in the village coaching house for the night, and I will return to London in the morning.”
Andrew forced himself to meet her gaze and speak in a calm voice while turmoil swirled in his gut.
“You can’t leave him here.”
“I can and I will.”
“Why now?”
“My employer’s wife has passed on, and he has no interest in the child. Madame was the one who insisted on providing the boy with a home. Master George was the only link she had with her daughter.”
“And you?”
“I’ve been his nurse since his birth at his grandparents’ London home.”
“If you are leaving, who will care for him?”
“With all due respect, that’s your problem, my lord.”
She turned to the child who began to sob. He buried his face in her skirts and fisted his small hands in the folds, his back shaking.
Her body vibrated with hatred. “See what you’ve done. You’ve upset him. He’s only six years old and not accustomed to cold toffs like you.”
Andrew stiffened, repressing the urge to curse. Instead he modulated his tone. “He cannot stay. I have no staff, no nursery. There’s nothing here for him to wear or play with. You must leave and take him back to where you came from.”
“His valise is outside in the hall. It has his belongings. He hasn’t much. As you would know if you’d deigned to take an interest in him.”
He supposed the verbal blow was deserved, despite the circumstances now confronting him, but his patience was at an end.
What the bloody hell am I to do with a child?
“You’re right. I know nothing about children. You can see he’s distressed. Can you not stay? I can pay you.” Panic gripped his throat, threatening to strangle him.
“I have another post. And now I must take my leave. ’Tis cold and wet, and I long for my bed.”
“Don’t go,” implored Andrew. “He’s crying. What does he need?”
“Give him a bit of soup and a bed. He’ll be right as rain in the morning.”
She disengaged the boy’s hands and bent down to face him. “You mustn’t cry, Master George. This is your home now. I’m sure his lordship must have a horse or two in his stables. You’ll see what a fine house this is when morning comes.”
The woman led the boy to a spindly chair and seated him. The child hid his face in his hands and wailed like his heart was broken. With a final pat, she put on her coat and hat and strode toward the door. “My hired conveyance is waiting. I’ll see myself out.” Footsteps echoed in the hall, fading as the woman reached the outer door.
Ralston stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes wide. The child’s wailing increased, and Andrew cringed. How was he to stop the noise? His valet hovered near the doorway. “Lester. Bring the new housemaid. I believe her name is Matilda. She should be in Mrs. Evans’s quarters or nearby.”
“Very good, milord.”
Ralston, who’d been silent during the drama seemed to recover from his stupor and frowned. “Do you even know who this is?”
“Sadly, I do.”
“Do you mind enlightening me? I admit, this is more entertainment than I’ve had in a decade.”
“His name is George.”
“I believe I got that.”
“He is—he is my son.”
Ralston fell into a nearby chair. “I’m astonished. I’d heard Caroline died in childbirth, but I thought the child was stillborn.”
“He’s very much alive, as you can see. And hear.”
Author Bio:
Author of eight books on California history and fifteen romance novels, Pamela Gibson is a former City Manager who lives in the Nevada desert. Having spent the last three years messing about in boats, a hobby that included a five-thousand-mile trip in a 32-foot Nordic Tug, she now spends most of her time indoors happily reading, writing, cooking and keeping up with the antics of Ralph, the Rescue Cat. If you want to learn more about her activities go to https://www.pamelagibsonwrites.com and sign up for her quarterly newsletter and occasional blog. Or follow her in these places:
Perrin deVesey knows pain. As a member of Crimson Rose, a secret club for men who love men, he’s taken the vow “to stand and shield.” Standing together during these perilous times is the only thing keeping their necks from the guillotine. Now their leader is using the club to rescue wrongly accused traitors. After losing a past lover to an unjust execution, the decision to support this treasonous cause is easy…until a devastatingly handsome Committee Officer complicates Perrin’s whole world.
Officer Henri Chevalier hates aristocrats. But the man he finds while investigating Crimson Rose is more than just wealthy and fancily clothed. He’s a rogue that could take him to the heart of the uprising and stop it before it starts. His plan to get close to Perrin and steal his secrets backfires, though, when Henri finds himself falling for the damned aristo and his dangerous smile. His heart is even more conflicted as he learns the truth behind their cause…and the truth his own people have been hiding.
Together they must make the choice—to stand and shield at any cost—and their love might be the deadliest weapon in all of France.
To celebrate the release of THE REVOLUTIONARY AND THE ROGUE by Blake Ferre, we’re giving away a $25 Amazon gift card to one lucky winner!
GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS: Open internationally. One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card. This giveaway is administered by BookMojo on behalf of Entangled Publishing. Giveaway ends 9/30/2020 @ 11:59pm EST. CLICK HERE TO ENTER!
About the Author
BLAKE FERRE writes LGBTQIA+ Inclusive Historical Romance Novels. A lover of the 18th Century, Blake can be found ogling over frock coats, embroidery, buttons, and velvet.
Lucretia ‘Crecy’ Holbrook has a secret, a secret she has kept for many years. Even her dearest confident and sister, Belle, would not understand what Crecy is prepared to do, the risks she is prepared to take, to get her heart’s desire.
For Crecy is not like the other smiling débutantes; she despises poetry, thinks dancing a chore and is quite prepared to throw something at the next fool to compare her to Aphrodite.
Far more likely to return from a country walk with a badger’s skull and some bloody, injured creature than a posy of wildflowers, Crecy is drawn to the dark, the damaged, and the unlovable.
Her heart longs for one man alone, one with a wounded soul, one so dreadfully damaged that even her tender care might not be enough to save him.
Viscount Demorte is everything she dreams of.
With a reputation that covers blackmail, murder and madness, cruelly handsome Lord Gabriel Greyston, Viscount Demorte, is far more dangerous than any wounded dog, and his bite … just might leave Crecy ruined beyond repair.
My review…
5 Stars!
I discovered this author, and series, about a week ago and now I can’t stop reading these books! Once I start one, I don’t want to put it down until I’ve read every last word. If you enjoy historical romances, you must give this series a try!
To Tame a Savage Heart is perhaps one of my favorites so far. Who doesn’t love a tortured hero? I loved that Crecy wasn’t your typical Regency lady, but then DeMorte needed someone a bit unusual. I loved the witty banter, the heated moments, and the sweet way she tried to help the love of her life, even when he didn’t want it.
DIsclaimer: I purchased a copy of this title or borrowed through Kindle Unlimited. This review was not solicited by the author or publisher and is merely my opinion.
Raising her son alone, penniless Sylvia Marks has had enough of being the subject of town gossip. But when her son is seriously injured she’ll do anything to save him…even kidnap handsome Dr. Nelson Graham!
Nelson knows what he wants in a wife; she’s to be amiable, biddable and skilled in domestic chores. Gun-toting Sylvia Marks isn’t what he had in mind, but as the two are forced together he realizes she’s exactly what he needs!
My review…
5 stars
I’ve enjoyed the Harlequin Historical Romance line for many years, and this book was no exception.
Imagine living in a time when, as a woman, you had no rights, very few respectable ways to earn money, and were solely responsible for the care of a small child. It’s no wonder Sylvia takes drastic measures to ensure her son receives the medical attention he needs. I found her to be brave and bold, with just enough insecurity to make her a well-rounded character.
Dr. Nelson Graham wanted a wife beyond reproach, but sometimes fate has something else in store for us. As he gets to know Sylvia, he sees her as more than a penniless mother. He notices her compassion, her need to help others, and realizes she may be exactly what needs after all.
I loved the slow build of romance between them, filled with enough witty remarks and tender moments to leave me yearning for more. I can’t wait to see what other books are available from Ms. Albright.
Disclaimer: This review is merely my opinion. I purchased a copy of this title. Neither the author nor publisher requested a review.
Highlander Laird Evan MacNeil cannot believe Mistress Katie Sterling just shows up at the MacDuff castle with this faded piece of parchment laying claim to the lands he just legally inherited. Not that he really wants to be here in the lowlands, but he has responsibilities to his clan and the exasperating Katie has uprooted the remnants of her father’s clan and moved them across the country to live here. There’s no way he can leave to go back home now.
Katie has nowhere else to go and she refuses to bow down to the arrogant yet undeniably handsome Highlander. She’s had enough with men trying to control her and she is quite capable of handling herself.
Now that Evan must spar with a beautiful lass for the rights to the lands, he will fight to the end. This battle is nothing like the ones his ancestors fought with crossbows and boiling oil. They never wanted to bed the enemy.
“Stop grinning like a loon, brother. The lass is still a stranger to us, and we need to watch ourselves around her.”
“What?” Alasdair had the nerve to laugh. “If ever there was an uncomplicated lass, it’s that one.” He motioned with his thumb toward the ceiling.
“And what do ye ken of complicated lasses? Most of yer bed partners have no more brains than that goat.” He waved his cup in the direction of the animal standing in the library doorway. He dropped his coffee cup and jumped up “What the hell is that?”
Alasdair turned in his chair. “I think ye already said it. Appears to be a goat.”
The animal stared at him, then ambled into the room. “What the blasted hell is a goat doing in the house?”
“Oh, so sorry, my laird.” Meggie rushed in after the animal. “I’ll take him outside.”
“Is he one of the tenant’s goats?” Evan asked as the animal walked farther into the room, looking around like he owned the place.
Meggie grabbed the animal around the neck. “Nay. He is Agnes’s pet goat, Myrtle.”
“The wee lass?” He thought he remembered her name as Agnes.
“Aye.” She tugged. The animal refused to move.
“Her pet goat?” he repeated.
“Aye. She keeps him in her cottage, and he sleeps alongside her.” She walked around the goat and attempted to push him forward.
Evan looked over at Alasdair. “He sleeps alongside her in her cottage.”
His fool brother was laughing so hard, he couldn’t speak. This day was certainly not going the way he’d planned. First, Stirling clan members had arrived before he expected them, the interviews he and Mistress Stirling were conducting had been cut short, and now there was a sick lass upstairs, and her pet goat was munching on one of his books. “God’s toes!”
Evan glared at a red-faced Meggie. “Get the blasted animal out of here and outside. Find MacDuff and have him put the thing somewhere.”
As Meggie tugged and, in turn, pushed on the animal, who had decided he wanted to stay right where he was, Mistress Stirling hustled into the room. “Oh, there he is.”
Evan scowled at her. “Mistress, ye new arrival brought a pet goat with them.”
“Aye. I ken. Wee Agnes wants him to join her upstairs.”
“Upstairs? Where the bedchambers are?” He hadn’t realized how loud his voice had become until Meggie—still pulling on the goat—and Mistress Stirling both cringed.
“’Twill calm the lass down,” Mistress Stirling was brave enough to mumble, avoiding his eyes.
“Let the bairn have her pet, Brother,” Alasdair added, wiping the tears from his eyes. “If it makes her feel better, it cannot cause harm.”
“Cause harm? The thing was eating one of my books.” He picked up the tome and waved it at the group who all stood staring at him, expressions from uneasiness to laughter on their faces. He rubbed his eyes with his fists. “Verra well. Let the lass have her animal.” He pointed a finger at Mistress Stirling. “The minute the wee one falls asleep, I want that animal out of the castle and to the barn, where it will stay. Do ye understand?”
“Aye.” Mistress Stirling said something in the goat’s ear, and the blasted animal walked alongside her as easy as ye please. Evan glared at his brother, who choked on his laugh.
Tour Wide Giveaway
To celebrate the release of A SCOT TO WED by Callie Hutton, we’re giving away a $25 Amazon gift card to one lucky winner!
GIVEAWAY TERMS & CONDITIONS: Open internationally. One winner will receive a $25 Amazon gift card. This giveaway is administered by Pure Textuality PR on behalf of Entangled Publishing. Giveaway ends 7/31/2020 @ 11:59pm EST. CLICK HERE TO ENTER!
About the Author
CALLIE HUTTON, USA Today bestselling author writes both Western Historical and Regency romance with “historic elements and sensory details” (The Romance Reviews). Callie lives in Oklahoma with several rescue dogs, two adult children, a daughter-in-law, twin grandsons and her top cheerleader husband (although thankfully not all in the same home!). Living in the Midwest provides plenty of opportunities for Callie do pursue her interests: researching history, meeting readers, spending time with her adorable two year old twin grandsons, and discovering new adventures. Callie loves to hear from readers and welcomes the opportunity to become friends, both in person or virtually.
Stealing the Heiress Samantha Holt
(The Kidnap Club, #2)
Publication date: May 28th 2020
Genres: Adult, Historical Romance
She was looking for adventure…
Lady Rosamunde Stanley just never expected in the form of a kidnapping.
Well, an almost-kidnapping. The dastardly man only went and took the wrong woman!
But she soon discovers the dark, handsome man is not quite the terrible rogue she thinks him to be and she decides to put his experience to use. Her uncle has gone missing and no one believes her when she says he’s in trouble. Can she persuade Russell to help?
Russell might have kidnapped her, but he has no intention of keeping her. Even if the heat between them is driving him out of his wits and her crazy family makes him long for things a battle-hardened orphan like him should never want.
Their societal divide isn’t the only reason to keep his distance. Rosamunde is a bloody knife-carrying, picklock-wielding madwoman.
A far too appealing madwoman…
He’s not the only one struggling. Rosamunde is finding it just as difficult to fight the attraction, despite knowing it is most likely her over-active imagination leading her down this path. Somehow, she must keep her head around the most exciting man she’s ever met.
“Stay where you are or I shall shoot,” he ordered firmly.
The driver nodded, his hands trembling around his loose grip on the reins. Russell moved around the carriage and glanced through the window to find two women clutched together. He eyed the younger one. Dark haired and attractive, just as Guy had described.
Very attractive. Russell clenched his jaw. Miss Heston looked a little older than the one-and-twenty-year-old he had expected but Guy had certainly downplayed her looks. She peered at him with wide eyes then murmured something to her older companion.
Before he pulled open the door, the woman shoved it and pushed her head out, meeting his gaze head on. Without the hazy glass between them, he had a full view of generous lips, a slightly stubborn chin, and wire framed spectacles that emphasized a warm, nutty gaze. However, there was nothing warm about the way she looked at him.
He let a brow rise. The woman was an excellent actress.
“Come with me.” He kept his voice low, just in case her companion did not know of their arrangement.
“Like hell!”
He blinked at the blasphemy. As far as he knew, the woman they were kidnapping was gently bred and trying to escape the persistent overtures of a gentleman. Still, perhaps she was trying to play the role of helpless victim for her companion’s benefit.
Very well. She wasn’t the only one who could act. He had not read every one of Shakespeare’s plays for no reason. “Come with me or I shall shoot,” he warned her, keeping his tones low and aggressive.
Miss Heston scanned the length of him and lifted her chin. “If it is money you want, I am quite wealthy.” She put her hand to a broach at the neckline of her crimson gown.
Russell’s gaze tracked the movement, unintentionally. He only realized her cleavage had caught his attention when she began to undo the gold and ruby broach. He swiftly looked away and blinked, feeling as though the image of soft skin, dark shadows, and generous curves might well be burned into his mind. Every time he blinked from now on, he suspected he would see the image there again.
Fool. He’d seen many a cleavage in his lifetime. A little glimpse of what appeared to be a most excellent cleavage wouldn’t be the undoing of him. If he could survive on the streets and forge a life for himself from nothing, he could most certainly rid himself of the image of the faintest glimpse of not even a third of a breast.
Or two.
Damn it. He blinked a few more times then scowled when she handed over the broach.
“Here, this is worth far more than you could get for me from ransom.”
He ignored it, letting his frown deepen. Why the devil was she dragging this out? Much longer and the driver might get the courage to fight him or someone would happen along, and Russell could end up getting shot.
“If that isn’t enough…” She hitched up her skirt, revealing a shapely, stocking-clad leg.
Well, the cleavage image no longer bothered him so that was something. He swallowed hard and frowned as she revealed the lacy edge of her stocking and the garter holding them up. Her hand moved slowly to the band and she tugged out a bank note.
Why the hell did this woman keep banknotes in her undergarments?
She reached for the note then curled her fingers around something else—a jeweled handle.
A damned penknife.
She grabbed it swiftly and thrust it outward. Russell dodged back, the blade skimming past his stomach and catching briefly on the fabric.
“Bloody hell, woman.” He grabbed her wrist. This play-acting was becoming far too dangerous. This needed to end now.
Author Bio:
USA Today Bestselling author Samantha Holt lives in a small village in England with her twin girls and a dachshund called Duke. If you’re not sure where to start why not try…
Amelia and the Viscount (Bluestocking Brides #1) for a fun, slightly hot shorter length read. Meet the Chadwick sisters and follow their adventures in each of their standalone stories.
You’re the Rogue That I Want (Rogues of Redmere #1) is a longer read with heat, witty dialogue, a feisty heroine and adventure. All books in the series are standalone.
Sinful Confessions is the first in the Cynfell Brothers Series. These are all novella length and standalone–ideal for a quick dip into the world of the sexy Cynfell brothers.
Wake Me With a Kiss is a sweet, fairytale romance. Twists on Beauty and the Beast and Cinderella are also available if you love a clean, fun read.
To Steal a Highlander’s Heart is a full length dive into the world of sexy highlanders. For those who love braw Scots, some steamy scenes, and medieval romance, this series is a perfect escape.
Please tell us a little about your new release (The Scarlet Dove) without giving too much of a spoiler away.
First of all, it’s a historical ménage romance set in 1888. It’s about a woman trying to find her place in a male-dominated world that has set parameters for how “proper” women should be.
Did you found any cool tidbits in your historical research for this book?
So a lot of this story is about my heroine, Liza, and her desire to find her place in the wild west. She has a wild dream of becoming a doctor. I did a lot of research on if that was a possibility. I always try to use historical characters in my stories, if possible, and I was able to incorporate some of that into The Scarlet Dove.
Was it difficult getting the heroes to a point where they could let their guard down and be open to the possibilities of love?
My two heroes, Blue and Apollo, are cousins. They’re tracking a dangerous killer and abductor of women. When they come across Liza, they’re unprepared for their attraction to her. I think it confuses the hell out of them and their jealous of each other. A ménage relationship isn’t in their radar at all, so love takes them by surprise.
How did you find that great balance between conflict and romance?
Conflict can intensify emotions. I like using it to develop a bond between the characters.
What part of the story was the most fun to write?
There is a very funny scene where Apollo and Blue put Liza on a train, and then realize the bad guy is on the train, so they race after it and jump onto it. It was like writing out a scene in a movie. The dialogue is hilarious.
Do you have a favorite line?
I have so many it’s hard to narrow down to just one. Apollo and Blue have a great repertoire, flowing back and forth. Many lines can’t be taken in one context since there is a reason behind it. Here’s one: (in response to Apollo asking “What can happen on a train?” )
“Remember when you asked what could happen on a train?” Blue murmured back. “Now you know.”
What is your favorite subgenre of romance to write?
I love paranormal and apocalyptic stories. They are very freeing to the imagination, and IMO, it really strips down a person’s relatability. I’ve just finished up an “end of the world” story, book one, and am plotting the second one now.
Are you in any of your books?
Don’t all writers put themselves in their stories? There’s a little bit of me in every book, I think. Maybe it’s just a random thought or a gesture, but something of me is in all my characters.
When choosing the title for your book(s) do you have a process or do you wing it?
Ah…titles are very important to me! Some are based off songs (A Man After Midnight came from “Gimme Gimme Gimme” by ABBA) and some come from a lot of thinking and soul searching. Sometimes I think of a unique title and try to build a story around it. The Scarlet Dove got it’s name because the nickname for prostitutes was “soiled dove”. I changed the name to scarlet because Liza is a red-head.
What’s on the horizon?
Several things. I have a story coming out in an anthology. I’m finishing up edits in the last book of my World of Danger series. I submitted book 1 of 2 of an apocalypse story. I have a time travel ready to submit. And I have a couple more outlined, waiting to be written.
Can Liza find her place in a lawless world?
When Liza Trent decided to become a mail order bride out west, she never imagined her fiancé would die before she arrived. His death places her in debt, and the only way to pay off the money is by auctioning off her virginity against her will. When she’s rescued by two handsome men, she mistakenly thinks they’re assassins. Despite her reservations, she accepts their protection.
Only the two men, Apollo Beck and Blue Hawke, aren’t assassins. They’re Texas Rangers sent after a man who preys on women, and their dangerous hunt has just brought Liza into the line of fire.
Confused with the attraction she feels for two men, Liza has a difficult decision before her: commit to loving Apollo and Blue or commit to her burning desire to become a doctor…unless she’s found and taken for revenge first.
Content Warning: contains violence, strong language, and explicit sex scenes, including anal sex
Genre(s): Historical Romance / Menage
EXCERPT
“It’s him,” Liza whispered in a hate-filled tone. “The man who tricked me.”
“Reynolds,” Blue spat.
“All three of you!” Reynolds screamed. “You’ll pay! You’ll pay for everything!”
The gun wavered in an unstable hand. Blue and Apollo glanced at each other and then charged forward. A shot exploded and Apollo went down. Blue tackled Reynolds to the ground. The two men rolled around, each trying to get the upper hand.
Apollo did his best to try to focus on the two men, but agony lanced through him as he tried to get to his feet. Black spots danced in front of his eyes, and he honestly didn’t know how bad he was shot.
And then a pair of soft, steady hands took his away. “Let me see,” Liza softly said.
“Uh,” he moaned. “Blue—”
“Is holding his own,” she interrupted him. Though she carefully probed, the pain rippled through Apollo, and he halted her hand. “You need medical help,” she told him.
“Get Reynolds first,” he panted.
Her eyebrows arched. “You know him?”
“I was sent to kill him.”
Her mouth fell open, and she looked from him to where Blue still fought with Reynolds.
“There’s a blade in my boot,” he whispered, wiggling his right foot and bringing her attention back to him. “Give it to Blue.”
She hesitated for only a second before reaching for the marked boot. He felt her hand slide in and grab the hilt. She slid it free and rose, turning to the fight that had attracted several people’s attention.
“I have a knife, Blue!” she called out.
In a flash, Blue spun away from Reynolds and grabbed the knife from Liza’s shaky hand. As he turned back, he let it fly. They watched as it flipped end over end and buried itself into Reynolds’s shoulder, right where the arm and chest met. For a moment, no one moved. Then the confused crowd rushed to help Reynolds, who stumbled away, and Blue turned to grab Liza’s hand and hurry over to Apollo.
“You need medical attention,” he said without preamble, mimicking Liza’s earlier statement.
“Not here,” Apollo growled. “Help me up.”
“You should rest,” Liza said.
“You think anyone is going to help the people responsible for burning down half the town?” As he sat up with a gasp of pain, Blue let go of Liza’s hand to help him stand. “Is Reynolds dead?”
They all looked at the small crowd that had moved in to help Reynolds when the blade had got him, only to see the crowd starting to point at them and talk. Reynolds was nowhere to be found.
I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers. I try to write characters who aren’t cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. I love writing characters who are real, complex and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love. I love to hear from readers so I’ve made it really easy to find me on the web:
Nick Andrews has returned to the Caribbean—but the world he remembers has changed for the worse. Despite the dangers, he needs to find a way to get to Corona. All he can think of is to reunite there with the love of his life.
Meanwhile, Tom is watching his every move. Tom, who has turned cold and demanding, and is desperate for Nick to love him.
One night things get out of hand, and something happens between them. Something unforgivable.
Content note: This book contains non-gratuitous depictions of torture, slavery, and sexual abuse.
Please note that the books in the Wavesongs series should be read in chronological order!
Excerpt
Tom is sullen and quiet as he gets ready for bed. His chamber is at the corner of the house, three times as spacious as Nick’s room next door, and far away from O’Connell, whose quarters are next to the kitchen and dining hall. There’s fresh water by the washstand, clean bed linens, and a mirror on the wall—but Tom complains about the mosquitoes, the humidity, and the house’s size.
“Just one floor, like a house for poor people… and nothing is beautiful here, nothing! How am I supposed to live like this?” He lies down in bed, curling up before giving Nick a hard look. “But you think it’s all fine, don’t you?”
“No.” From what he’s seen so far, Harrow Hall is not a good place. That whip in Buckley’s hand… “Why would I think that?”
Tom turns over. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m tired. Please, leave me alone now.”
Nick goes into his own chamber. His body is sore, exhausted, but once he’s in bed he finds it hard to sleep. From the other part of the house comes the sound of voices, laughter. O’Connell and his men sampling their own rum, probably.
There is nothing to like about this place, but Nick won’t stay long. He’ll take the first opportunity to leave.
Elvira Bell lives in Sweden and spends most of her time writing, reading or watching movies. Her weaknesses include, but are not limited to: vintage jazz, musicals, kittens, oversized tea cups, men in suits, the 18th century, and anything sparkly.
Elvira writes m/m fiction with a touch of romance and has a penchant for historical settings. She adores all things gothic and will put her characters through hell from time to time because she just loves watching them suffer. It makes the happy endings so much sweeter, after all.
How to persuade the lady your interest is genuine? No easy task. Has the viscount met his match, or can he win and claim a wife?
What do you do when your father has no faith in you?
Ignore him.
David, Suddards’ father assumes—wrongly—that David gambles deep and has had an affair with a married lady before she has given her husband an heir. Enraged, his father issues an ultimatum. Marry within three months or lose everything that is not entailed.
David refuses. If that’s what his father thinks of him, he can go to the devil. He will marry when he is ready and not before.
What a shock then, a year later, when the one woman he is interested in shows no interest in him!
It’s up to him to persuade her he’s the right husband for her, and when he does…sparks fly. Can these two strong-willed people ever learn how to compromise and find that in fact they are the perfect match?
Excerpt
David was honest—no well-brought-up young lady appealed to him. They never had, and he was wise to every trick any encroaching mama or deb might try to pull to ensure he had to make an offer.
Until now? He quashed that thought to be re-examined later. His tastes had always run to those females who were up to snuff and needed a man to dally with and satisfy them. That usually meant bored matrons—and only those with the requisite number of children of the correct sex, whose husbands accepted dalliance would be the next step. Plus, he didn’t approach opera dancers or the demimonde, whatever the grand dames of the ton chose to think. In fact, he ruminated as he glanced at the silent woman next to him, just lately he hadn’t had time to dally with anyone. Parts of him could well have seized up through lack of lubrication.
However, he had to acknowledge her lack of interest intrigued him.
Josephine halted just outside the ballroom and the tug on his arm made David stop mid-step. He looked at her inquiringly, and she grimaced before she must have remembered herself and curtsied. A gesture that was correct to the nth degree, he could imagine how much it had cost her.
“This is far enough, thank you. I, ah, appreciate your help,” she added stiffly. “Although I could have dealt with him myself, I do thank you for your intervention.” She didn’t add, ‘unnecessary as it was,’ but David could imagine her wishing she could.
“Of course you do,” he replied genially. “Why would you not? “
She flushed and he wished he had held his tongue, if not his actions. Because with regards to his intervention, he wasn’t so sure what his intentions were. Lord Reginald had a reputation for acting first and thinking later—and not always in a good way. The problem was how to divulge the information so she understood, took action and did not ignore him—or indeed overreact.
“Is it all men or only me you have an aversion to?” he asked as she began to walk away. He pitched his voice just loud enough for her to hear. She might ignore his question but there would be no chance of her not hearing it. “For if it is me, what have I ever done to you to deserve your contempt?”
“What?” She turned and took the three steps necessary to get within arm’s reach once more. Her blue eyes sparked in a way he had never noticed before and his body responded accordingly and tightened with interest. Again, she tempted him in a manner he would not have thought possible. How he’d like to shake her out of her present mood, but not in a manner that would be at all acceptable.
Not yet, anyway.
Again a notion to contemplate. Was he really debating dallying with this woman? His head said no, the rest of his body, the opposite. Why had he never really examined her luscious curves before? They appeared perfect in every way.
“Dare you not answer me?”
She frowned as if puzzled by his remark. David repeated himself. “How have I earned your contempt?”
“Sadly, as far as I can see, from my knowledge of your sex it encompasses all men, my lord. Although, with your reputation, I would put you near the top of my list.”
Well, that told him. David bowed and with a swift look around decided, if she thought she knew him, he might as well live up to the sort of person she thought she was.
He grasped both her arms, drew her close and pressed a hard, swift kiss to her lips.
The jolt of immediate arousal was as unexpected as it was exciting.
Raven is the author of both Regency and contemporary stories and also writes rom com as Katy Lilley.
She lives in the Trossachs, in Scotland on the edge of a forest, with her long suffering husband, who is used to rescuing the dinner from the Aga and passing her a glass of wine as she works.
Raven loves hearing from her readers and you can find her at www.ravenmcallan.com where all her social likes for Facebook and twitter are also found.
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