Category Archives: First Kiss Friday

First Kiss Friday with guest Jude Knight

18 Friday Aug 2017

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Any day that I can introduce my friend and fellow Bluestocking Belle Jude Knight to my First Kiss Friday blog is a really good day. Jude writes incredible stories that pull you in from page one and makes you want to start all over again when you’re done. Today Jude has an excerpt from The Lost Wife, one of her short stories in her upcoming release Lost In The Tale. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene. Happy reading!

Excerpt:

A rattle drew their attention to the kitten. It had found the saddle bags, and was batting a loose strap so that it swung and knocked two buckles together.

“Ah, Angel, thank you for the reminder,” Magnus said. “Callie, I have a Christmas present for you.”

He didn’t have to let her go—just lean across and pull the bags towards him, the kitten scampering behind, enjoying the new game. It pounced on the flap he wanted, and he picked it up and handed it to Callie while he pulled out the oilskin wrapped package he wanted.

“Here, Callie. I was going to give this to you for Twelfth Night, but I cannot wait. Merry Christmas.”

She turned slightly so she could lean against him and use both hands to unwrap the package, and he kept one arm around her while with his other hand he turned the kitten on its back and tickled its belly with the end of a saddlebag strap.

“Marcus? These are the deeds to Blessings.”

“I had them from Lewis just before I put him on a ship for South America. He will not be back, Callie. His schemes and lies and cheating are all public knowledge, and the men he has wronged are baying for his blood.”

“And now you own Blessings?”

“You own Blessings. We didn’t have time for a proper marriage settlement, and with my identity in doubt… Well, now that I am confirmed as earl, I have corrected that oversight. It is in the package. It just needs your signature. Unless you want changes. I will make any changes you wish, Callie. All I want is for you to be happy.”

Callie was crying again, but smiling as well. “You are turning me into a watering pot, Magnus.”

He bent to kiss away the tears, and when she turned further towards him to ease that gentle service, he drifted his lips across hers, at first just brushing then settling to press and caress. He urged her mouth open with his own, and brushed her tongue with his. Her tentative return thrilled through his body and he sank into the kiss, feeling at last at home, after all these years.

Sharp pinpricks and an anguished yeowl recalled him to himself, and he eased slightly away from Callie to lift an offended Angel from between them.

“Even Christmas Angels should not come between a man and his wife,” he told the kitten, sternly. Callie giggled, a happy bubble of a sound that he had heard many times long ago and missed like a lost limb. He bent to kiss her again, holding the kitten out of the way, this time.

“I don’t deserve you, Callie,” he said again.

Lost In The Tale
Release Date: September 6, 2017

Buy Links:
Amazon  |  Smashwords

Come sample my wares: four short stories and a novella to entertain and surprise you.

The Lost Wife: Teri’s refuge had been invaded: by the French, who were trying to conquer their land, and by wounded soldiers from the English forces sent to fight Napoleon’s armies. The latest injured man carried to her for nursing would be a bigger challenge than all the rest: he had once broken her heart. (short story)

The Heart of a Wolf: Ten years ago, Isadora lied to save her best friend, and lost her home and the man she loved when he would not listen to her. Ten years ago, Bastian caught his betrothed in the arms of another man, and her guilt was confirmed when she fled. Ten years on, both still burn with anger, but the lives of innocent children and the future of their werewolf kind demand that they work together. (short story)

My Lost Highland Love: Interfering relatives, misunderstandings, and mistranslations across a language barrier keep two lovers from finding one another again. The Earl of Chestlewick’s daughter comes to London from her beloved Highlands to please her father, planning to avoid the Englishman who married her and abandoned her. The Earl of Medford comes face-to-face with a ghost; a Society lady who bears the face of the Highland lass who saved his life and holds his heart. (short story)

Magnus and the Christmas Angel: Scarred by years in captivity, Magnus has fought English Society to be accepted as the true Earl of Fenchurch. Now he faces the hardest battle of all: to win the love of his wife. A night trapped in the snow with an orphaned kitten, gives Callie a Christmas gift: the chance to rediscover first love with the tattooed stranger she married. (short story)

The Lost Treasure of Lorne: For nearly 300 years, the Normingtons and the Lorimers have feuded, since a love affair ended in a curse that doomed dead Lorimers to haunt their home, the Castle of Lorne.

Now the last Marquis of Lorne, the last of the Lorimers, is one of those ghosts, and the Duke of Kendal, head of the House of Normington, holds the castle.

Kendal doesn’t care about the feud or the ghosts. He wants only to find the evidence that will legitimate the son his Lorimer bride bore him before her death, and to convince his stubborn housekeeper to marry him.

But the time allotted to the curse is running out, and his happiness depends on finding the Lost Treasure of Lorne before the 300 years draws to a close. (novella)

Bio:

Jude Knight’s writing goal is to transport readers to another time, another place, where they can enjoy adventure and romance, thrill to trials and challenges, uncover secrets and solve mysteries, delight in a happy ending, and return from their virtual holiday refreshed and ready for anything.

She writes historical novels, novellas, and short stories, mostly set in the early 19th Century. She writes strong determined heroines, heroes who can appreciate a clever capable woman, villains you’ll love to loathe, and all with a leavening of humour.

Website and blog: http://judeknightauthor.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JudeKnightAuthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JudeKnightBooks
Pinterest: https://nz.pinterest.com/jknight1033/
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/JudeKnight
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8603586.Jude_Knight
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Jude-Knight/e/B00RG3SG7I
Email: jude@judeknightauthor.com

 

First Kiss Friday with guest Jennae Vale

11 Friday Aug 2017

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Welcome to another First Kiss Friday. It’s my pleasure to welcome back my friend, Jennae Vale and her excerpt from, A Long Forgotten Time – Book Seven of The Thistle & Hive Series. Her covers are just stunning, aren’t they? We hope you enjoy this glimpse into Jennae’s world. Happy reading!

Excerpt:

Brenna awoke with a start.  There was a man in her bed and she was touching him!

“Is everything alright?  Did you have a bad dream?” Zeke asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I’m fine.  I’m just not used to sharing me bed.  I forgot ye were here.”  She rolled away from him and sat up.  “Is this what it’s like to be married?”

“I wouldn’t know, but I imagine it’s a lot more than just sleeping with someone.”

“Aye.  Ye’re right.”  The thoughts and feelings she was having were very conflicted.  Although she enjoyed the feel of Zeke’s chest beneath her cheek and it had caused her to experience an odd sensation in her belly, she was embarrassed to have found herself in such a vulnerable position.  She didn’t want Zeke to think she needed him for anything more than her escape from Castle Treun.  “We should rise.  We can begin our journey to Breaghacraig as soon as we’re ready.”

“What’s your hurry?” Zeke teased.  “Are you afraid they’ll make us stay?”  A crooked grin lit his face, flustering her and causing her belly to do flip flops.

“Nae.  Of course not.  Greer will be saddling our horses and packing our bags for us.”

“She really doesn’t like you, does she?”

“Nae.  This castle has always been mine to manage.  ’Tis me… ’Twas me home.”  She hated the fact that she was being driven out of the only home she’d ever known, but she had a new life awaiting her and it was time to say goodbye to this one.   “Greer wants to be in charge and having me here has been a threat to her.”

“You could say the same.”

“What do ye mean?”

“I think you were threatened by her presence as well.”

Brenna could feel the anger welling up within her.  “How would ye know that?  Ye’ve only been here a few days.  Ye should nae judge,” she yelled.

“Okay.  Okay.  Calm down.  I wasn’t trying to insult you.  It’s just that… Look, I know she’s been pretty awful to you, but I also think you felt as if you’d been replaced and had no value because of it.”

Brenna didn’t speak.  He was right, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.  She began to get out of the bed, but Zeke grabbed her hand and held her there, rubbing his thumb across it, soothing her, but also stirring something else within her.  She gazed at their hands, and felt a warmth that confused her.  As Zeke continued to hold her hand, she looked into his eyes and saw sincerity.  He really was trying to help her, but why?  No one in her life had ever done anything like this for her and it only muddled things all the more in her head.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  He looked at her with a funny, sad expression.  “Our first fight as a married couple,” he chuckled.

“Aye.  I dinnae believe it will be the last.”

“Brenna, I’ll try not to say things that upset you, but I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me when I do instead of being angry with me.”

“Why?  We’ll only be together for a few more days and then ye can be on yer way.” She wanted to be angry with him.  It would make their time together easier on her.  She couldn’t allow herself to have thoughts and feelings about this man that would only hurt her when they parted ways.

“Those few days can be one of two things… heaven or hell.  Your choice.”

“Me choice?  What do ye mean by that?”

“I mean.  You can choose to get along with me or not.  I’ve already decided to be more careful with my words, but I’m not perfect.”

He was giving her a choice.  She wasn’t used to making decisions for herself.  “Alright.  I prefer heaven.”

“Good.”

He released her hand and she felt regret that he had.  Zeke had touched her with his words and his respect for her.  It was best to get out of bed and put some space between them.  She had to remember this was only temporary.  The best thing she could do right now was ignore the man in her bed.  The man who made her feel things she did not want to feel.  There was no time to think about that now, though.  She had to get her things together so they could be on their way.  Zeke stayed in bed and watched her as she gathered the few belongings she wished to take along with her.  She paused momentarily as she picked up the doll her aunt had made her.  She thought about leaving it behind, but found that she couldn’t.  It meant too much to her.  It was the only good memory she’d be taking along and so she quickly stuffed it into her bag.  When she was done she turned to look at him.  He is verra handsome.  And unlike her Da, he didn’t seem to yell about everything.  She would do her best to be pleasant around him.

“I’m ready to go, but ye are still abed.  It seems I’ve married a lazy man,” she teased.  Do ye nae need to pack yer belongings?”

“The few belongings I have are ready to go.  Watching you buzzing from one end of the room to the other has exhausted me.  I think I need to sleep more.”  He lay down and put a pillow over his head.

Brenna picked up the other pillow and slammed him with it.  He didn’t move.  She tried again and this time he threw the pillow off his head and grabbing her wrestled her down to the bed.  She wriggled and squirmed beneath him as she became aware that something hard and long was poking her in the belly.  Both arms were accounted for and it didn’t feel like a leg.  She froze in place, gazing up into a chiseled face and soft blue eyes.  Those eyes were gazing down into hers with the same intensity she was feeling.  Without thinking, Brenna pulled his head down to hers and kissed him right on the lips.  She had only an instant to regret it before he kissed her back and kissed her again and again.  Kisses so sweet she never wanted them to stop.

Buy Link: Amazon

Bio:

Jennae Vale is a bestselling author of romance with a touch of magic.  As a history buff from an early age, Jennae often found herself day-dreaming in history class – wondering what it would be like to live in the places and time periods she was learning about.  Writing time travel romance has given her an opportunity to take those daydreams and turn them into stories to share with readers everywhere.

Originally from the Boston area, Jennae now lives in the San Francisco Bay area, where some of her characters also reside.  When Jennae isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and her pets, and daydreaming, of course.

Social Media:

www.jennaevaleauthor.com
www.twitter.com/jealil
www.facebook.com/jennaevaleauthor

First Kiss Friday with Elizabeth Ellen Carter

04 Friday Aug 2017

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Thanks for stopping by my blog today for another First Kiss Friday. Today’s guest is fellow Bluestocking Belle, Elizabeth Ellen Carter. Elizabeth is celebrating her latest book baby! Captive of the Corsairs is the first in a new series called Heart of the Corsairs – a Regency adventure romance series set in the Mediterranean. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene. Happy reading and enjoy!

captive-of-the-corsairs-coverExcerpt:

“May I escort you topside, Miss Green? Perhaps you would like to dance?”“Just a turn about the deck, if you would be so kind,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”

There. A peace offering of sorts. Had she been truly mad at him, she would have excused herself immediately, but she hadn’t.

Kit rose and offered his arm. Tonight was still and the crew on duty hunted the breeze to keep the Calliopemoving towards their destination. He and Sophia made a leisurely pace to the ship’s bow. Her head tilted towards the moon suspended above them. Her eyes were closed and dark, fan-shaped lashes rested on her cheeks. Then her eyes opened, those dark, fathomless eyes.

“I wanted to thank you for not saying anything to my cousin or Professor Fenton about my absence,” she said.

Kit rested his hip on the railing and shrugged. “By the time I was aware of the circumstances, it was a moot point. It would have been a different matter had I known. Searching for you would put my men at risk and cost us a full day if we missed the tide.”

Sophia swallowed and nodded her head, keeping her face from him.

“Then you’ve placed me further in your debt,” she whispered.

He kept his voice to the same level as hers. “And that’s not a place you like to be, is it?”

Sophia shook her head and coal-black strands flew loose from the chignon.

“’Neither a borrower nor a lender be’, Captain Hardacre.”

“Kit,” he insisted. “With so much in common, surely we’re friends now.”

She gave him a closed-mouth smile, and her eyes closed, too, shuttering the windows of her soul. She was right to do so. He was little more than a pirate and a thief. He would steal what was behind those lids if he could.

“Kit.” His name on her breath was so faint he was lucky to catch it. “I don’t wish to be in your debt.”

He was unprepared for the surge of emotion when those rich brown eyes opened and looked up at him. Kit’s lips lowered to hers and he tasted surprise on them. He shifted his feet to hold her against him more firmly. Desire pumped through his veins as he felt her respond. The soft sigh as their lips parted sent a maelstrom of emotions crashing over him.

He lifted his head far enough to see her clearly. Her eyes were open and bright, perhaps with shock. Even in the pale moonlight, he could see her lips were full with color. Caused by him. He did that to her and it had only been a kiss – a bare touching of flesh.

Never before had he been so quick to arousal. The caress of professionals had never achieved that end so quickly.

Possibly, it had been a one-off, a fluke He’d better make sure. Sophia was quicker and turned her head away.

“Don’t… please… I’m in love with someone else”

 Captive of the Corsairs is exclusive to Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0721NSPJ6

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Bio:
Elizabeth Ellen Carter is an award-winning historical romance writer who pens richly detailed historical romantic adventures. A former newspaper journalist, Carter ran an award-winning PR agency for 12 years. The author lives in Australia with her husband and two cats.
 
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First Kiss Friday with Sherry Ewing & To Follow My Heart

28 Friday Jul 2017

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Today on First Kiss Friday, I’ll be giving you an excerpt from To Follow My Heart: The Knight of Berwyck, A Quest Through Time (Book Three). I was pretty excited to learn back in June, that InD’Tale Magazine reviewed this novel and gave it 4 1/2 stars which earned it the coveted crowned heart. These are exciting times for this author, especially with the Romance Writers of America conference going on this week. I hope you enjoy this first kiss scene between Fletcher and Jenna. Happy reading!

Excerpt:

She looked over at him, and she could not mistake the sudden intimacy that came to surround them. She lost her train of thought while she gazed into his unusually colored eyes. What had he been saying?

“Please…call me Jenna.” As she heard her own voice soften, he leaned forward, she presumed, to hear her shyly whispered request.

“Jenna,” he said, just as softly. “Since you have given me permission to use your given name, you must needs reciprocate and call me Fletcher.”

The almost seductive tone of his voice sent another rippling shiver up and down her spine. “If you insist…Fletcher.” She watched the roguish grin spread across his face.

“Aye, I am afraid you must needs indulge my whim,” he continued huskily.

Charm…he had loads of it, and she wondered if this was maybe only a game to him, although she doubted it. He seemed sincere enough, but considering how her past relationships with men had gone, she wanted to tread carefully and not get hurt again.

“And is this all I am to you? Just a whim of fate you’re stuck with, Fletcher?” she blurted out smartly before she thought better of it.

He sat up to lean forward and whispered into her ear. “It gives me great pleasure to hear my name as it passes your lips, even if you are cross with me.”

“You’ve hardly answered my question. Do you think I’m just some easy conquest, because you, more or less, feel responsible for me?” The hair on the back of her neck rose. She wasn’t sure if her body’s reaction was from his hushed words spoken in her ear or was a warning sign to be wary of him.

“I did not mean to insult you, Jenna, and I certainly meant no disrespect.”

He was so close, she could see golden flecks of color in his eyes she had never noticed before. Once again, tingles of pleasure raced from her head all the way down to her toes. But, she wasn’t going to think about what was going on with her body. She tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear to distract herself. He seemed to be waiting for her to come to the realization and decision that he was sincere.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, biting her lower lip. “Everything is just happening so fast, it’s all very confusing. I think I may have said or thought that about one hundred times since I’ve landed here.”

Fletcher reached over to take her hand between his fingers and placed a kiss on its back. She was expecting him to let go, but instead, he only cupped it with his other one, encasing her own trembling hand into a warm cocoon of comfort. “I do not feel this is some game we are playing, ma cherie, although a meddlesome ghost has gone to great lengths to put us together.”

“You’re kidding me?” A laugh escaped her, and yet, if time travel were possible, then why not ghosts, too?

“Nay, my lady. I would not jest about so serious a matter. I must admit, I am still bemused as to his motives, but I believe he may have been aware of my need to have someone to complete my life. He must have sensed your need, as well.”

“I don’t know how a ghost from this century could know anything about what I need or want for my life.”

Fletcher gave her a small smile. “I will not try to presume to know the wandering thoughts or motives of Sir Rolf, but you are here. Surely, that alone must tell you something of the miracle that has brought us together.”

Jenna hesitated only for a moment. “And do you speak to this ghost friend of yours often? I assume he is a friend of yours.”

“Aye, he was a friend, and I fought beside him for many a year.” Fletcher got another far off look in his eyes until he returned to the present. “As for having speech with him, that is another matter, entirely. I have only had one conversation with him, and that was the day you came to us upon the strand. ’Twas mostly a one-sided conversation, since he was muttering most insistent at me inside my head. ’Tis very alarming when one does not expect such an occurrence.”

“That happened to me, as well! I thought I was losing my mind, or whatever I had left of it from this insane journey I seem to be on,” Jenna exclaimed. “I was wondering why I was here, and he said, ‘Because you wished it.’”

“You were wishing to be brought here?”

Jenna’s hand rose to her temple before she turned her eyes to him. “I suppose, in a way, I was. I was wishing for a time of grace and beauty, of knights and castles. Things long forgotten where I live. Now, here I am.”

“Amazing.” Fletcher again brought her hand up to his lips. “I have often heard tell love is a leap. Sometimes, you need to jump in order to find it.”

“Are you asking me to leap to discover it for myself?” Jenna murmured.

“Mayhap, I am, along with having a little faith all will work out, as it should.”

“And are you willing to jump along with me?” She held her breath while she waited for his answer.

He smiled at her, and Jenna swore her heart was about to burst from her chest. “Most assuredly, my lady.”

Jenna wasn’t sure how her hand found its way to cup his cheek. Her thumb rubbed across the bristly stubble on his face. She wasn’t even sure how she found herself leaning forward to kiss him until her lips were but inches from his own. His mouth parted as she began to close her eyes. Their breaths mingled together as one. For one heartbeat, reality had no meaning, and when his mouth descended upon hers, she forgot everything else but him. The kiss was one dreams were made of. Gentle, soft, undemanding, one she could replay in her mind a hundred times and still want to hit rewind so she could watch and relive the overwhelming sensations all over again.

Thunder sounded in the distance, bringing Jenna back from falling off the edge of one of the most romantic phenomena that had ever happened in her entire life. Before she could speak, Fletcher captured her lips in another quick kiss that was over far too quickly for Jenna’s liking.

“Fletcher…” she gave a breathless sigh. “That had to be one of the most perfect first kisses in the history of mankind.”

TO FOLLOW MY HEART (THE KNIGHTS OF BERWYCK , A QUEST THROUGH TIME NOVEL #3 – InD’Tale Magazine Review

TIME TRAVEL/HISTORICAL: Jenna Sinclair is looking to soothe her wounded ego after a nasty breakup by visiting her favorite location in San Francisco, but while walking the beach she is suddenly transported through a portal that catapults her back in time to Berwyck Castle, England in 1182.

Garrison captain Sir Fletcher Monroe has met his fair share of time travelers. When a ghost advises him to visit the beach he follows his instincts, and loses his heart when Jenna arrives. While still acclimating to the past Jenna is compelled to return to her own time− but how can she return and still pursue her feelings for Sir Fletcher?

A treat for time-travel buffs, “To Follow My Heart” is a well-written tale that will engage readers with its originality. As the third installment in the Knights of Berwyck series, this tale is strong enough on its own merits that it will lend readers to overlook hints and partial histories alluding to the first two books. Finding herself a fish out of water, strong-minded Jenna adapts rather quickly. Readers will find her even more endearing upon her second journey through time. Sir Fletcher is a hunky, honorable knight who will do anything to keep Jenna safe while staking his claim on her heart. The turning-of-the-tables in this tale provide the endearing qualities authors strive for. This time travel with multiple journeys gives the everyday a fresh twist that will pique reader’s curiosity in order to seek out previous installments.

Review by Jordyn Teel

Buy Links:

Amazon  | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo  |
Amazon AU | Amazon  BR | AmazonCA | Amazon DE | AmazonFR | Amazon UK

Learn more about To Follow My Heart and all my work on the tab above and thank you for stopping by!

 

First Kiss Friday with guest Kathryn Le Veque

21 Friday Jul 2017

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Welcome to another First Kiss Friday. It’s my extreme pleasure to welcome Kathryn Le Veque to my blog. Kathryn is sharing an excerpt from ShadowWolfe that releases on July 27th. Thank you Kathryn for being my guest today! Happy reading and enjoy.
KathrynLeVeque_ShadowWolfe_800
Excerpt:

Scott was standing over her, looking down at her head, the infant against her breast, and feeling his heart swell in ways he could hardly comprehend. He came around to the front of her, taking a knee and bringing himself to her eye level. The expression on his face was nothing short of raw as he gazed into her eyes.

“Swear it to me,” he breathed.

She nodded fervently. “I swear it.”

It was all Scott needed to hear. Those three words cemented something into his heart and soul that he would never again lose, cementing faith that he thought he’d lost. Faith that there would be happiness again in his life and faith that there was hope for the future. He thought he’d lost those feelings long ago, but Avrielle had somehow managed to bring them back. The realization nearly overwhelmed him.

As the babe nursed at her breast, Scott brought his hands up, cupping Avrielle’s sweet face. All he did was stare at her for a moment, feeling her soft flesh beneath his hands, hardly believing this moment was upon him. It didn’t seem real. Yet, Avrielle was very real in his hands, her skin warm and delicate in his palms, and those lips he’d admired from afar were calling to him.

This time, he answered the call.

His mouth slanted over hers, warm and gentle, as her scent filled his nostrils, intoxicating him. It was a defining moment for him because it spoke of untold promises, unspoken words, and a future he thought he’d lost. He could taste her sweetness upon his lips and he feasted on her, listening to her soft gasps of pleasure as he suckled her lips.

His kisses grew bolder, more demanding, but he knew this wasn’t the place for such things. This was only the beginning of what was to come and his mouth left hers, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her eyes, before moving down her neck. Gentle kisses rained over that beautiful neck and onto the swell of her beautiful breasts, feeling the soft and gentle skin against his lips.

************************

Buy Links for ShadowWolfe:
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Bio:
 
KATHRYN LE VEQUE is a USA TODAY Bestselling author, a charter Amazon All-Star author, and a #1 bestselling, award-winning, multi-published author in Medieval Historical Romance and Contemporary Romance. She has been featured in the NEW YORK TIMES and on USA TODAY’s HEA blog. In March 2015, Kathryn was the featured cover story for the March issue of InD’Tale Magazine, the premier Indie author magazine. She was also quintuple nominee (a record!) for the prestigious RONE awards for 2016 and is again a multiple nominee for the RONEs for 2017.
 
 

First Kiss Friday with guest Tricia Linden

14 Friday Jul 2017

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Once again I’m welcoming back my wonderful critique partner, Tricia Linden. We hope you enjoy this excerpt from her novel, Until Their Hearts Desire. Trust me… you’re going to love this story! Enjoy and happy reading.

Excerpt:

“I’m sure you need not worry. Come, let’s not waste what little time we have. We’ve come for a ride, so let’s ride.”

Tessa paused for a moment before she nodded in agreement. “I suppose you are right. I’m sure my sister is in good hands.”

“Well, then, I think we’ve lingered long enough. Let’s have a run,” Jacob challenged her.

“Yes, let’s,” she agreed. With a flick of her riding whip and a kick of her heels, she spurred her horse to take off, and they broke into a fast clip. This was much more to her liking, feeling the wind rushing past her cheeks as they raced along the lane. Laughter bubbled up and flowed from her as she absorbed the pure joy of speed. They ran across the wide-open space over the North Meadow of the park until Tessa felt run out and slowed her horse to a walk.

“Had enough?” Jacob asked as he brought his horse back to her side.

“For the moment,” Tessa said, catching her breath. “That was fun. I so love a spirited ride.”

“Zelda is a spirited mare, but I had a feeling you could handle her. I’m glad I chose well,” Jacob said. Holding her gaze, he added in a lowered voice, “A spirited horse for a spirited lady.”

Tessa felt her breath catch in her chest; the way he spoke sounded intimate, even seductive. She believed she detected a dark look of desire in Jacob’s eyes, but feared she had so little experience with the attentions of men that she might very well be mistaken. Maybe he was only heated from their vigorous ride, and his words carried no deeper meaning. Perhaps she was only imagining what she hoped to be there.

As they walked their horses along a shady lane, Tessa misjudged how deeply she needed to duck to avoid the branches spreading out over the path. Suddenly, she felt her bonnet snag, catching in the low hanging branches. Her head jerked back painfully as her horse proceeded forward. She gasped in surprise, pulled back on the reins with one hand, and instinctively reached up to untie the ribbons of her bonnet, letting it fly loose from her head.

Jacob must have heard her struggle, for he turned his horse and was quickly at her side. “Are you all right,” he asked in earnest as he reached out and tried to take hold of her horse’s bridle. With a jerk of its head, the spirited horse pulled away, sidestepping off the path and out of his range.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine . . . just a bit startled,” Tessa said, unable to meet his eyes. Her encounter with the bonnet-snatching tree had nearly knocked her from her saddle, and she was struggling to remain seated on the mare as her hair blew about her face in tangled waves. The loss of her bonnet had pulled out most, if not all, of the pins holding her chignon in place. She managed to stay on her horse and maneuver it back onto the path, but the damage had been done; she looked completely disheveled.

Looking over her shoulder, Tessa saw her bonnet dangling from the tree like a silly, frilly ornament then watched as Jacob’s initial look of concern slowly transformed into one of barely restrained amusement, his lips twitching to turn upwards. He reached out to retrieve her bonnet, pulling it free from the clutches of the tree, and Tessa watched in amused horror as he poked and pulled at it, trying to wrangle it back into shape. The effort was useless.

Tessa shook her head, pushing wayward strands of her thick, waist-length hair away from her face as she fought the brisk spring breeze blowing across the field. “You need not bother, I feel it shall never sit upon my head again,” she chuckled.

He looked down at the ruined hat he held in his hands and laughed whole heartedly. “I believe you are quite right,” he agreed. Surprising her even further, he tore off the ribbon that served to tie it to her head and stuck the remains of her bonnet on Zelda’s head. “It’s only fair that she should pay for her offense.”

Tessa burst out laughing while doing her best to control her free flowing locks.

Jacob dismounted and came to help her down from her horse, saying, “I see we cannot continue until we have put you to rights.” Once he had her standing on firm ground, he handed her the ribbon he had yanked from her bonnet. “Here, hold this.” Before she could anticipate his actions, he began running his fingers through her hair, combing it back from her face.

She stood stone still in shocked silence, feeling the strength of his hands upon her head. The first pass was quick and efficient, but with heightened awareness she noticed how his movements slowed for the second and third passes, effectively stroking her head as he let her long, brown hair slip through his fingers. He was so close, she could do little more than stare at the top button of his crisp white shirt. She breathed deeply and with it came his manly, musky scent mingled with pine and leather. Bravely, she tilted her head slightly to see his face. His expression appeared chiseled in hard lines as he focused on his task while his dark, green eyes spoke of hunger and yearning.

No man had ever touched her like this; nothing before had ever felt so intimate.

She continued to stare at him in stunned fascination as he shook out her hair one last time. He then stepped behind her, and his hands continued to play through her hair, separating it into sections. She soon realized he was weaving it into a braid. How unexpected. When he had finished, he reached for the ribbon she held limp in her hand and tied off the braid.

“There, that should do,” he said.

Turning to look at him over her shoulder, she asked in a near whisper, “Why did you do that?”

“Because I wanted to,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. “Because it needed to be done.”

Still standing behind her, he pulled her close and brushed his hand against her cheek. He leaned in closer until she could feel his breath warm against her skin. His other hand wrapped around her waist until her back was pressed against his chest. It felt strong and protective.

“I wanted to touch you, to feel your hair. I’ve wanted to do this since we met,” he whispered into her ear.

He turned her to face him and brought his mouth down upon hers, capturing her lips with a feeling of such searing desire she hadn’t the will to refuse. Her breathing became erratic, and she found she was unable to even catch her breath. She knew she should resist—everything she had been taught her entire life forbid such intimate actions, such partaking of pleasure—and yet, there wasn’t a cell in her body that agreed to comply with her logical thoughts. She wanted him to kiss her.

She heard herself moan, though a part of her wanted to sob from the fear of wanton desire that swept through her. She wanted to melt into his arms, and let him sweep her away in blissful sensations. Such conflicting emotions should not be indulged. It was an indication that she was out of control, putting her at risk of submitting to improper actions, or even worse.

She marveled at how easily he sought to seduce her. Did he not believe his actions mattered? Was he unaware of the feelings he evoked in her? Or the judgment that would be heaped upon her should they be seen? He would walk away unscathed, but if they were discovered, her family would always regard her as less than perfect, as something used and abused by a man who would never be allowed to properly court her for marriage.

She heard the sound of hooves beating across the ground and jerked away. “We cannot be found like this.”

Blurb:

Until Their Hearts Desire – A Jules Vanderzeit novel.

Tessadori Delafield truly loves living in California with her aunt and uncle. When her mother summons her back to New York, she goes with great reluctance, fearing her parents have called her home to see her married to a man of their choosing. The last thing she wants to be is an idle woman, waiting and hoping for a man to make time for her.

Jacob Beaumont is the type of man who could easily capture Tessa’s heart, if only he were around long enough to honestly try. Unfortunately, Jacob has an annoying way of popping in and out of Tess’s life like one of those newfangled revolving doors. When she discovers the elusive Mr. Beaumont is also keeping secrets, it’s more than Tessa can accept.

Jacob believes he’s found the one woman he can’t live without, but as long as he is contractually bound to Jules Vanderzeit, that’s exactly what he must do. It seems the man known as the Maestro is doing everything he can to keep Jacob away from Tessa, but with Jacob’s mother’s life at stake, and Jules holding all the cards, Jacob has no choice but to play by the Maestro’s rules.

There’s no place like home, but for Tessa and Jacob, finding home means following their heart’s desire.

Buy Link:

Amazon: Until Their Hearts Desire: a Jules Vanderzeit novel

Bio:

Tricia Linden, author of timeless romance with a touch of magic.

An International Banker by trade, and a romance writer by desire.

In this lifetime, I’ve lived in five states, on two islands, and on a farm, and am now living in Northern California. My travels have taken me to Guam, Canada, Mexico, Australia, Hong Kong, England, Scotland, several countries in Europe, and several states in the US.  Besides my love of reading and writing romance, I have a great fondness for zydeco dancing, classic rock and best of all, Pink Flamingos. Over the years, I’ve gathered a rather large collection of the fun pink birds.

I believe in life, love and the pursuit of romance and am living happily ever after with my soul-mate in Northern California. “My life is magical, I am truly blessed.”

Website:  https://tricia-linden.com/

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

Tweeter:  www.twitter.com/TriciaLinden69

Email:  Tricia.Linden@ymail.com

First Kiss Friday with guest Caroline Warfield

07 Friday Jul 2017

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It’s a lovely day in the neighborhood, especially when I can welcome back my friend Caroline Warfield for First Kiss Friday. We hope you enjoy this excerpt from The Renegade Wife! Enjoy!

Excerpt:

We. The word hung between them. She couldn’t look away. They stood for a long time in the narrow hallway before he closed the space between them. He moved so gradually that she didn’t realize it until his mouth was inches from hers, his warmth surrounded her, and his eyes searched hers. She couldn’t say if those eyes searched for permission; she couldn’t think at all. There was only awareness: of the man, of his warmth, of his bedroom door feet away.

The kiss came gently, a touch, a caress. She let herself feel it, starved for tenderness, and she breathed in his scent—pine and wood smoke. Her hands slid up his rough shirt, around his neck, and into the hair that hung to his collar.

Long fingers cupped her head then, splaying into her hair, and he deepened the kiss softly, gently without force. She opened gladly.

When he began to unbutton her dress she stiffened and put her hands on his chest to push him away. Perhaps it was the sensation of cold. Perhaps it was the intrusion. Perhaps reason simply asserted itself. Meggy didn’t know what brought her to her senses. She had forgotten much for a few moments, but one fact came to her clearly.

“I’m married, Rand! Fergus may be a poor excuse for a human being, but he’s still my husband. Nothing changes that.”

She almost wept when he responded immediately, respectful and concerned. He stood back, but he reached out a hand to caress her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Meggy. You deserve better.”

Blurb

Reclusive businessman Rand Wheatly finds his solitude disrupted by a desperate woman running with her children from an ugly past. But even his remote cabin in Upper Canada isn’t safe enough. Meggy Blair may have lied to him, but she breached the walls of his betrayed heart. Now she’s on the run again and time is running out for all of them.

For purchase on Amazon.

Bio:

Caroline Warfield is the pseudonym of a writer who wishes she had walked through fascinating times in the shoes of one of her characters—but which one?

Caro has at various times been an army brat, a librarian, a poet, a raiser of children, a nun, a bird watcher, an Internet and Web services manager, a conference speaker, an indexer, a tech writer, a genealogist, and, of course, a romantic. She has sailed through the English channel while it was still mined from WWII, stood on the walls of Troy, searched Scotland for the location of an entirely fictional castle (and found it), climbed the steps to the Parthenon, floated down the Thames from the tower to Greenwich, shopped in the Ginza, lost herself in the Louvre, gone on a night tour of the Singapore zoo, walked in the Black Forest, and explored the underground cistern of Istanbul.

By far the biggest adventure has been forty-five years of marriage to a prince among men.

Having retired to the urban wilds of eastern Pennsylvania, she reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows while she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the British Empire. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart.

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First Kiss Friday with guest Tricia Linden

30 Friday Jun 2017

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Any day I can introduce this marvelous author is indeed a great day. Today it’s my pleasure to have on First Kiss Friday my wonderful critique partner, Tricia Linden. Tricia is the first person (outside of family and close friends) who made me feel like a real author. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene from Until We Meet Again. Happy reading and enjoy!

Excerpt:

She was about to give up and return to her room when she heard a floor board creak out in the hallway. Her eyes flew to the gap beneath the door. Whoever was out there was sure to see the light from her oil lamp shining under the doorway and be likely to investigate. She looked around for a way to explain her presence in Mr. Stevenson’s room; something to hide the fact that she had been snooping. She spied a short stack of books on the side table next to Robert’s overstuffed reading chair. She grabbed the top book, plopped into the chair and opened the book as if she had been reading. Though she was trembling with nerves, she nearly laughed out loud when she read the title of the book; The Gilded Age: a Tale of Today by Mark Twain and Charles Dudley Warner. It was too perfect.

A second later, the door opened and in stepped Robert looking truly displeased, and perhaps a bit surprised.

“Miss Winters? What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?”

“Oh my god, Robert, you scared the begeebers out of me!” she said with a start. “I was looking for something to read and didn’t want to go all the way down to the library. I saw this book by Mark Twain and thought I would give it a go, but it’s perfectly awful. How can you read this stuff?” She was familiar enough with the novel to know it was one of Twain’s less successful efforts.

The anger in his eyes dimmed but his stance remained wary. “I enjoyed Twain’s Prince and the Pauper and wanted to give it a try, but it doesn’t compare. However, I don’t recall giving you permission to enter my room.”

“You’re quite right, of course, but since I knew you had moved to a guest room, I didn’t think it would be a problem and I was hoping to find a quick read before going to bed.”

She sat the book down on the side table with the others and stood to leave, but Mr. Stevenson held his place between her and the door. He glanced down at the pile of books for a quick second, and then returned his gaze to her, eyeing her from head to toe. He was no doubt questioning why she had taken the liberty of making herself at home in his room when she was dressed for bed. It probably looked as though she’d been lying in wait to seduce him, except she hadn’t expected him to return to his room. She’d been snooping, not planning seduction.

Silence crept up between them and expanded, robbing the air from her lungs. She really should leave. It was the only right thing to do. Making a fast and hasty retreat, no matter how guilty she appeared, was better than trusting her ability to resist Mr. Robert L. Stevenson. The look in his eyes had turned naughty and enticing; a toxic combination.

“So you felt it was acceptable to come into my room because you were looking for something to read?” His raised brow indicated a high level of disbelief.

“Yes, I was looking for something—something special. Something I didn’t expect to find in your library.” She wanted to tell him more, so much more. She wanted to come clean, to confide in him and bare her soul, but she couldn’t; the risk was too great.

“Really? Tell me about it.” He spoke with a lazy smile, leaning against the door frame, waiting. She could practically hear the thoughts zipping through his brain. In that respect, they were much alike. Rarely, was she able to turn off the constant chatter and indulge in the silence of the moment.

“It’s late. I should go,” she said.

“It’s never too late when you’re looking for exactly what you need. In fact, the way I see it, this is perfect timing. Since you’ve ventured into my bedroom in the dark of night, it only seems fitting that I should offer you a drink,” Robert said in that smooth double-o-seven voice of his. It appeared he’d already had a drink, or maybe three, probably while entertaining his clients at dinner. He closed the door behind him with a click. The crystal door knob glinted in the glow of the lamp light, mocking her thoughts of escape.

He shrugged out of his overcoat and hung it on a hook at the back of the door. Next, he removed his tie and cuff links before starting on the pearl buttons at the neck of his shirt.

Victoria watched in shocked fascination as his fingers deftly undid the top buttons of his shirt, one by one. She held her breath, wondering if he would continue to undress, hoping he would, knowing he shouldn’t. Her normal breathing resumed when he stopped and motioned to the liquor tray sitting on a sideboard.

“Will you join me?”

“For a drink?” Yes, a drink would do her good about now. Then, when she let him ravish her body, as she so wanted him to do, she could claim it was the fault of the liquor. “What do you have?” What was she thinking?

“Brandy, cognac, and port; which do you prefer?”

For hard spirits, she preferred shots of tequila, but was fairly certain the Mexican brew hadn’t yet made its way into many homes in nineteenth century New York. She really should say, “No, thank you,” and walk away, but instead she considered her options. “Brandy sounds interesting. I think I’d like to try that.”

“You don’t drink?” His brows quirked upward.

“No, of course not. I’m a governess.” The lie slipped easily from her lips. Everything about her was a lie; the way she pretended to be from this time, and that she wasn’t attracted to him. But this was wrong, so very wrong.  She was the governess to his daughter and he was her employer. She should leave, and she would if he wasn’t blocking the door, and looking so sexy, and offering her a drink.

“I’ve seen you drink wine with dinner.” He moved away from the door and slipped off his suit coat which he draped over a ladder-back chair.

“Yes, but not hard spirits.” She shouldn’t be here in her night gown, accepting a drink from her employer while his shirt was nearly half unbuttoned, once again exposing a glimpse of his enticing chest. Perhaps it was time to use her position in his house as her shield against his enticements. Then again, since he was no longer blocking the door, perhaps she should just make a run for it. It was a great idea, if she wanted to look like a scared ninny.

He poured a generous amount of brandy into one glass. She wondered if that was for him or for her. He surprised her when he took a swallow and then handed her the glass.

“Are we expected to share?”

“I thought it best to see how you’ll react to something you haven’t tried before.”

She tilted her head in consideration. “Probably not a bad idea.” What was she saying? This whole thing was a bad idea.

She accepted the glass and sniffed. Smooth, not harsh. She guessed it to be expensive. She took a small sip to taste—very pleasant—and then another larger one. It burned, but not overly. The heat of the brandy felt good going down as it spread quickly through her body, leaving a comfortable blanket of warmth in its wake.

She handed him back the brandy and he drank the rest. “Would you like more?” he asked.

She wanted to say yes, but shook her head no, not trusting herself to speak.

“As you wish.” He set down the empty glass. The room hummed with sexual tension. He stepped close to her and paused, but only for a moment before he kissed her, leaving her no time to think, only react. He smelled of drink, with the sweetness of brandy lingering on his lips. She should be pushing him away. She should be slapping his face. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him draw her tighter into his embrace, his body perfectly aligned with hers. This was all his fault. He was too darn sexy and she was too darn horny. But this was more than just hormones raging out of control. This was passion, damn it.

Heated passion spread through her body, melting her core and softening her resolve. She’d felt it before but she wouldn’t allow herself to feel it again. Horny was one thing—horny happened and then it was gone—but desire stayed tucked in a breast pocket, ready to dole out despair in moments of weakness long after the moment had ended.

Until We Meet Again

Victoria Winters doesn’t regret her affair at Woodstock, or that she returned from the past pregnant with a daughter who would never know her father. Maggie is the light of her life and her only desire is for the two of them to live happily ever after, but she’s deeply indebted to the Maestro, a mysterious man who saved her life in exchange for becoming his time-traveling courier.  Victoria has spent the last four years caring for her daughter, but she still has time to pay, and now she’s being recalled into service to travel to Manhattan in 1888 to retrieve a lost Stradivarius violin.

The Maestro has tracked the missing violin to Robert  Stevenson, a successful investment banker living the good life in the gilded age of Manhattan. After his wife’s untimely death he seeks to employ a new governess for his eight year old daughter. When Victoria shows up at his front door, it’s obvious she’s the perfect candidate for the job, even though he suspects there’s much more to Miss Winters than she’s willing to tell.

If Victoria can find the violin in three short weeks, she’ll earn a great reward, shaving years off her ten-year contract with the Maestro. If she fails, she risks losing her daughter, and possibly her life. Before her assignment is over, she’ll be forced to choose. What is she willing to lose to have everything she ever wanted?

Buy Link: http://amzn.to/2rAFpoC

Bio:

An International Banker by trade, and a romance writer by desire.

In this lifetime, I’ve lived in five states, on two islands, and on a farm, and am now living in Northern California. My travels have taken me to Guam, Canada, Mexico, Australia, Hong Kong, England, Scotland, several countries in Europe, and several states in the US.  Besides my love of reading and writing romance, I have a great fondness for zydeco dancing, classic rock and best of all, Pink Flamingos. Over the years, I’ve gathered a rather large collection of the fun pink birds.

I believe in life, love and the pursuit of romance and am living happily ever after with my soul-mate in Northern California. “My life is magical, I am truly blessed.”

Visit Tricia at:
Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  | Email

First Kiss Friday with guest Jasmine Haynes and a Giveaway!

23 Friday Jun 2017

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Another First Kiss Friday and it’s always a pleasure to welcome back Jasmine Haynes who writes incredible erotica stories. Today, she gives us a the first kiss scene from her eBook, The Girlfriend Experience, which is currently #FREE. Jasmine is also offering a giveaway to one random comment of an eCopy in the Courtesans Tales series entitled Payback. Get busy leaving those comment and get out a fan. You’re going to need it after reading this scene. Happy reading!

Excerpt:

Chase had experienced paid companions, but none had been like Marianna. She wasn’t practiced. She was real.

From her magic picnic basket, she’d pulled a bowl of sliced peaches and two champagne flutes. She plopped a slice in each glass, then handed him one, which he filled, followed by the other. Tapping her flute to his, she saluted—“Cheers”—and swallowed a quarter of the glass, then closed her eyes, tipping her head back. “Oh God, that’s good. I haven’t had champagne like that in ages.”

He’d have thought she had it all the time.

She opened her eyes. “You haven’t tasted.”

“I was watching you.”

She was still a long moment, regarding him, assessing his words. Then she must have decided she liked what he’d said, because she graced him with another of her smiles and held out the plate of drumsticks.

“One drumstick, then a peach slice. It’s to die for.”

He chose a piece of chicken, the scent mouthwatering. Like her. “Delicious,” he said, licking the stickiness from his fingers.

Instead of giving him the peach bowl, she selected a slice, then fed it to him. After the tang of the teriyaki, the juicy peach was heaven. He savored it along with the flavor of her skin, sweet as the peach. He’d never cheated on his wife. He hadn’t had sex with another woman in over twenty years. Since Rosie died, he couldn’t even remember thinking about sex.

But he thought about it with Marianna, enjoying the image as much as he had the peach.

She ate a slice herself, and he took pleasure in the sensual cast of her eyelids, the low, throaty moan of appreciation. Then, going down on her elbow beside him, she pushed the plate of chicken at him. “Eat. I made a lot.”

He ate, but he liked it better when she fed him.

“So tell me what you do.” She nibbled daintily on a drumstick without getting messy.

“Business.” He didn’t want to talk about work. That would only lead to bad memories.

She dropped her chin to give him a look through her eyelashes. “That’s illuminating.”

“Sorry.” He stroked a lock of hair from her cheek. Touching her skin, he wanted more. He wanted her to touch him. “I haven’t done this in a long time. I’m not good at making conversation, and I’m a little nervous.”

“Done this?” She flipped her palm out expressively.

He held her gaze. “Gone out with a woman.”

“Are you recently divorced?”

A pulse beat at his temple. He thought about lying. “My wife died a year ago.”

She gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She laid her hand on the blanket a scant inch from his, their fingers almost touching.

He thought of telling her the truth about why Rosie died. But then maybe he didn’t really know the why of it. He only felt the guilt in his gut. Dammit, he was not going there now. He wanted to pretend for a little while longer that he wasn’t a basket case.

As if she understood how close to the darkness he was at that moment, she smiled gently. “Got any kids?” she asked.

Marianna could only hope the question would save the situation. Chase’s sudden smile dazzled her, the abrupt change amazing. Thank God, because she’d totally blundered that one. Isabel should have told her he was a widower. She wondered why he didn’t wear a ring. You took it off for divorce, but not for death. But hell if she’d ask that.

“I’ve got a daughter,” he said, a beam of light in his eyes. “Krista. She’s a sophomore at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo.”

She gasped. “Oh my God, she’s a Poly Dolly.”

He chuckled. “I’ve never heard that one.”

She felt the mood lifting. “I graduated years ago. Maybe they don’t use it anymore. But it’s sure better than being called an Aggie.” In the midst of taking a peach slice from the container, she glanced up in case she’d offended him. “Not that I’ve got anything against Aggies.” Cal Poly had been a big agriculture university even when she was attending.

He snagged a piece of chicken. Another good sign. “Don’t worry, she’s not an Aggie. She’s doing graphic design.”

“So tell me what she looks like.”

He lips creased in a doting-dad smile. “She’s beautiful.” Everything was different about him when he spoke of his daughter. He came to life. His eyes brightened.

“Duh,” she said. “With your DNA, I’m not surprised.”

Chase licked teriyaki from his fingers, and she had the most incredible urge do it for him. Suck his fingers clean. Her face heated. So did everything else.

“Is that a compliment?” he asked.

“Yes, you’re very handsome.” Pretty damn hot, actually.

He blinked, then his mouth curved in a sexy half smile. “Thank you.” His lips glistened with a touch of lingering teriyaki. Marianna wanted a taste of that, too.

He was obviously grieving for his wife. He didn’t want a real girlfriend. He wanted someone to ease the loneliness for a little while. And she’d almost botched everything totally. She’d even had trouble thinking of things to talk about. Which shouldn’t have been a problem since she had to make small talk all the time with potential buyers. Chase unnerved her in a way Brock Ransom hadn’t. Perhaps because this was more like a date. A blind date one of her friends had set her up on.

And because Chase was much more devastatingly attractive.

She searched for something scintillating to say. “So, Cal Poly is my alma mater, but I’m a real estate agent now.” Oh God. She closed her eyes and waited for him to say, But I thought you were a whore.

He didn’t. Instead, he lifted her chin with the tip of his finger, waiting until she opened her eyes.

“I think we should start over.” His eyes were a gorgeous bottle green.

“We should?”

“Yeah. Here I am with a beautiful woman who’s prepared a delicious feast for me and I’m making her struggle to come up with conversation.”

He had the most amazing eyelashes, thick, dark. “It’s not your fault.” It was her job to be scintillating. She sucked at being a courtesan. Though the thought of that particular word under these circumstances brought a smile to her lips.

He raised one brow. “Tell me.”

Her face always gave her thoughts away. Why not tell him? “I was thinking that I sucked at being a courtesan.” Her smile grew, then she laughed.

“An interesting choice of words.” His eyes deepened to an earthier shade.

“Then I realized that’s what I’m supposed to do.”

“You are a very naughty woman.”

She loved the way he said naughty. He stroked a finger down her throat, then slowly pulled away, leaving her skin tingling.

“I haven’t done anything naughty”—she fluttered her eyelashes—“yet.”

Holding her gaze, he dipped into the bowl of peaches and held one out to her. “Eat this.”

Entranced, she took the fruit from his fingers as if he were a hypnotist. A drop of juice slid off her lip. His eyes glued to her, she licked it up.

“Now suck this.” His tone was smoking as he stretched out his hand.

She drew his finger into her mouth and sucked off all the leftover nectar. So good, she had to close her eyes to savor his taste mixed with the peach and teriyaki.

“I would say you were a perfect courtesan,” he whispered.

Her body was suddenly a blaze of sensation, a flush along her skin.

Like Sleeping Beauty, she needed his kiss and she needed it now.

Putting her hand on his face, she gave him her lips.

Tentative, sweet, a delicious combination of peaches, teriyaki, and hot male desperation. She swept her tongue across his lips, asking. He parted for her. She’d never felt so in control of a kiss, not the aggressor so much as the director. Touching his tongue with hers, she quickly backed off, teasing. He watched her, his eyes smoky with desire. She leaned in again and gave him her mouth. When she would have pulled away once more, he slid his fingers through her hair, held her to him, and the kiss became his. He used his tongue, his lips, sipped her, tasted her fully, teased, then rolled her under him.

Angling his head, he took her deeply. The crush of his body heated her inside and out. She forgot it was about money. She forgot he was a stranger. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed as if she were the longtime girlfriend he’d fantasized about. He groaned, holding her still. Just when she couldn’t bear another moment without his hands all over her, he backed off, then laid his forehead to hers, eyes closed.

“Christ,” he murmured, his breath fanning her cheek. “You make me feel starved.”

“I’ve got more food.”

He chuckled, real laughter, no cutting it off. “Food is not what I’m hungry for.”

The Girlfriend Experience (Courtesans Tales, Book 1)

By Jasmine Haynes

Romances to make you blush set in a glitzy, sensual world of powerful people and the courtesans they’ll pay anything to have.

An exclusive and secret agency, for over two hundred years Courtesans has specialized in providing entertainment of a sexual nature. Its clients are rich, powerful, and influential men and women, and one only meets a courtesan through referral from trusted sources. Courtesans facilitates bringing together men and women to satisfy any sexual need imaginable, matching the perfect courtesan with just the right client. The agency prides itself on training its courtesans, male and female, to interpret and fulfill its client’s greatest fantasies, even the secret ones no one dares to say aloud. The price is high, but everyone who’s ever had the pleasure of a date with a courtesan will agree, the fantasy is worth every penny. And sometimes it changes your life.

To Marianna, money is the measure of a person’s worth. Even as a child, she learned that from her father, a self-made man. When an old college friend tells her about life as a courtesan, the fabulous dates, opulent trips, valuable trinkets, and how much a man is willing pay to have a beautiful woman on his arm, Marianna wants it all. Thrust into a world of powerful men, suddenly she holds all the power. And all the worth.

Until she finds herself falling for her “date.”

A widower, Chase has sought to ease his guilt and pain in relationships without commitment or expectation. And especially not love. Until he discovers Marianna and begins to treat her like his girlfriend rather than a paid courtesan.

Now Marianna stands to learn the biggest lesson of all, that money doesn’t buy self-worth. It certainly can’t buy love. And money becomes the reason she’ll lose Chase, the very man who is worth everything.

The Girlfriend Experience is free right now everywhere!  Kindle  iBooks  Kobo  Nook

Courtesans Tales in Order

The Girlfriend Experience
Payback
Triple Play
Three’s a Crowd
The Stand-In
Surrender to Me
The Only Way Out
The Wrong Kind of Man
No Second Chances

Bio:

NY Times and USA Today Bestselling author Jasmine Haynes loves giving readers sexy, classy stories about real issues like growing older, facing divorce, starting over. Her books have passion, heart, humor, and happy endings, even if they aren’t always traditional. She also writes gritty, paranormal mysteries in the Max Starr series. As Jennifer Skully, she writes laugh-out-loud romantic comedies laced with a heavy dose of mystery. Look for Jennifer’s new series written with Bella Andre, starting with Breathless in Love, The Maverick Billionaires Book 1. Having penned stories since the moment she learned to write, Jasmine now lives in the Redwoods of Northern California with her husband and their adorable nuisance of a cat who totally runs the household. Join her newsletter for updates on contests, new releases, and freebies by going to www.jasminehaynes.com.

Contact

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First Kiss Friday with Emmy Z. Madrigal & a Giveaway!

16 Friday Jun 2017

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Today on First Kiss Friday I have as a guest Emmy Z. Madrigal and her characters from Lord Harrington’s Lost Doe. Emmy is offering an eCopy of her novel to one random comment so please be sure to show her some love.  Happy reading!

Excerpt:

He and his staff doted on her day and night. Three days passed and with each day, she became thinner, weaker, and paler. There were moments of clarity every so often, when she’d be strong enough to chat, but she still did not know who she was or where she’d come from. The fog the laudanum withdrawals kept her under wouldn’t let go completely.

At night he would try to sleep in the adjoining room while Mary watched her, but he’d hear his doe tossing and turning and inevitably rise. He’d send Mary to bed and spend the night sleeping in the chair next to her bedside, as his suffering beauty clung to life with a will he admired.

“My Lord,” Benjamin woke him one evening deep in the night. “You must sleep yourself. In a bed. You don’t look well. Please take heed.”

Alexander ambled up, shuffling to the bed in the adjoining room in a half-wake state. He fell onto the covers with his clothes on and Benjamin removed his boots.

“How many days has she been here, Benji?” Alexander asked in a whisper.

“Four, My Lord.”

“Did she eat any more today?”

“No, My Lord,” Benjamin said quietly, as if ashamed to admit it. “Sleep now. We shall see to her.”

Alexander let exhaustion take over. The last thing he remembered was saying a prayer that his little doe would survive the night.

A few hours before dawn, Alexander woke to the sound of someone in his room. His eyes fluttered open, but he knew he was still dreaming. An angel stood before him, dressed all in white, a halo of golden curls atop her head.

“I’m so cold. I can’t get warm,” she whispered.

He lifted the blankets beside him. “Come, it’s warm in here.”

She hesitantly padded across the room on bare feet and laid down next to him. He wrapped his arm around her from behind and pulled her ice cold body into his warmth. She cuddled into him, shivering as their difference in body temperatures clashed.

Alexander closed his eyes and smiled, loving the feel of a soft feminine body next to his. What a wonderfully pleasant dream to calm him when he needed comfort the most.

***

When Alexander woke, a certain part of his anatomy had become aware of a warm female body next to his. He sat up, realizing his little doe had crawled into bed with him.

Good Lord, you’ve done it now! He held his head and scolded himself. At least he still wore his clothes, but that wouldn’t matter to anyone who found them in bed together. Her purity was tainted and he had to get her back in her own bed before anyone noticed. He rose and crept over to the doorway. Kate slept in a cot beside his doe’s bed, fast asleep. How could he get past Kate without waking her?

He looked back at his bed and the beauty upon it. She had color to her cheeks, her expression serene. Perhaps his warmth had done her some good. He pulled the blankets around her shoulders and smoothed his hand over her curls. For once, she wasn’t sweating. The fever seemed to have abated.

Thank God for that. Perhaps she would see the other side of her illness soon. He could get her home, where she belonged, but he had grown so attached to her, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to leave.

Her eyes opened and he drew back, wondering which doe he might find. The pained patient or the well-spoken young lady he’d come to favor?

“Wh-where am I?” she asked and glanced around.

“Er…” Not exactly the question one wants to hear when a lady wakes in one’s bed.

“Oh, yes…” She sat up. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t right.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “What you must think of me! I just…I was so cold and the fire had gone out in my room. The servant was asleep and I came in to see if you might have any firewood. I…It was so warm in here and I guess I just longed to be held. When you offered I…I didn’t have the strength to deny it. I’m sorry. I knew you were half-asleep. I shouldn’t have taken advantage.”

She cried earnestly and he couldn’t bear seeing her blame herself.

“No, no, love. Please. Shhhh.” He reached out to her, but feared his touch would make her more uneasy. “Do not blame yourself. It shall be our secret. Nothing happened and we can go on as it has always been.”

She sniffled and took a deep breath. “It’s not…I am not…”

He retrieved his handkerchief from his coat hanging on a nearby chair. Handing it to her, he sat on a stool by the bed, leaning forward in hopes to console her. He couldn’t watch her cry on his account.

“It’s only that I woke from the most horrid dream last night, but then I realized, it wasn’t a dream but a memory. My father is dead. The person I loved most in the world is gone. I feel like my heart will break in two. It’s more painful than this illness. My whole world is crumbling around me.” She sucked in a large breath and panted, unable to catch her breath.

“I am sorry, truly.” He put his fist to his mouth to hide the anger welling up inside him. He held her hand and ran his thumb over her fingertips. He’d never known the pain she felt, but he could see the anguish in her eyes.

“That is not all. I think…no, I know…that I cut my own hair.” She bit her lip, tugging at the short locks at her temple. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she ignored them, so preoccupied with self-hate. “I don’t understand it. I feel like I’ve been confused for so long. Doing things I would never do…and then father’s death…and I wasn’t allowed to go to the funeral. Then I remember the scissors I took from the sewing box…” She stared straight ahead as if seeing the vision of herself playing out in front of her.

“But why?” he asked softly, not as an accusation, but trying to understand.

“I don’t…” She sniffled. “There are pieces missing. I can’t recall it all. It’s as if my memory is written on a piece of parchment, but rain has washed away the ink and with it, bits of my past. I catch glimpses and then they are gone. One moment I see so clearly and the next, I feel as if perhaps everything I think I know is a dream. The worst part is that I feel I’ve been doing these bad things, but had no control over myself doing them.”

He gripped her hand tighter. Perhaps she was mad. Maybe not from Worthington Hall, but mad just the same. But no, he couldn’t believe it. His mind raced, having an argument with himself.

Why not believe it? It would solve the mystery about her.

Because I’m in love with her.

In love with an insane lost girl?

My lost doe. Oh Lord, we’re made for one another because I am mad, too. Longing to feel her soft body near him, he wished he was still in bed, so he could curl up behind her and nuzzle her ear.

“Say something, please.” She looked to him, her sad eyes defeated.

He had no response and before he knew what he was about, he leaned forward and placed his lips on hers. His kiss deepened and he found her lips open to his. She wanted him close, too. Could it be that she loved him as well?

But she is lost and crazy. His brain screamed, “Stop!” But he couldn’t. He reached up to her neck, massaging the short curls there. How soft and inviting they were. She whimpered and he grinned, knowing she wished him to continue.

Alexander’s reason stepped in to put an end to the heaven he felt. I am taking advantage of a poor, helpless, mad woman who looks to me for protection. My God, man, get a hold of yourself!

Alexander broke away and stood. His breathing heavy, he couldn’t even see straight as he crossed the room and gripped the window pane.

“Lord Harrington…Alexander…” Her meek voice spoke in a quiver.

“I am sorry. I am…incorrigible. I should not have…” He looked at her but couldn’t bear the embarrassment written so plainly on her cheeks. “Pardon me. I must go.” Grabbing his coat, he walked into his doe’s room.

Kate woke and looked up at him, startled.

“See to her. She was cold and slept in the other bed last night, closer to the fire.” In my bed.

“Y-yes, M’lord.”

Alexander left the house, barking orders at Benjamin about taking care of his doe. He went to the stable and saddled his horse faster than one of the stable boys could wake and get dressed to do so. Galloping away from Denwood, Alexander focused his frustration on riding.

Blurb:

Lord Alexander Harrington’s life is rather tame until a shoeless, coatless waif is found wandering his estate with no memory of who she is. Despite his stoicism, Lord Harrington finds himself drawn to the lost girl who he compares to a scared doe. Caring for her illness despite speculation of her mental state, he develops feelings for her.

Is she an escaped lunatic, or simply a lost woman desperately in need of his help? A revelation about his own family’s history with the mental asylum down the road causes him to question his feelings. When a massive fire breaks out on estate grounds, will he lose her forever?

Buy Link: (Print or Kindle exclusively on Amazon.com)

https://www.amazon.com/Lord-Harringtons-Lost-Emmy-Madrigal/dp/1535426276

About Emmy:

Emmy Z. Madrigal is the author of the Regency Novella, Lord Harrington’s Lost Doe. Her previous works include the New Adult series Sweet Dreams Musical Romance and the Chick Lit series Anime Girl.

Website: http://emmyzmadrigal.com

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

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Emmy-Z.-Madrigal/e/B004G34P6W