Category Archives: First Kiss Friday

First Kiss Friday with Rue Allyn

17 Friday Apr 2020

Posted by in 2020, First Kiss Friday

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Welcome to another First Kiss Friday. Today’s guest is my friend and fellow Bluestocking Belle Rue Allyn. Rue is sharing an excerpt from One Moment’s Pleasure. Happy reading and take it away, Rue!

Sherry thank you so very much for the opportunity to share with your readers the first kiss from One Moment’s Pleasure. I hope your readers will understand that I am truly sorry I can only provide a part of this scene. They will have to read One Moment’s Pleasure from the beginning to find out why Edith believes the man she is with is a paid stud and why Dutch believes she is a prostitute. They both happen to be wrong. But there it is. Love’s course is never easy, and this couple has a doozy of a time getting to their HEA.

Excerpt

Suddenly Edith was beyond furious. She’d lived her entire life in unpaid servitude catering to or circumventing the absurd, unreasonable wants of a man. Now, when she’d spent good money to have a man at her beck and call, to cater to her needs and desires, that man had the temerity to insist that he was in charge. That she should cater to him. She finally found her voice.

“What you want? What you want!” Her tone rose with every word. Her arms dropped to her sides. Her hands fisted. “I’m fed up with men and their insistence on having everything their way. Well, not tonight.”

A flush rose to heat her cheeks. Her shoulders stiffened. Her chest heaved, and her bodice slipped.

“I’ve invested everything in this venture,” she ranted, beyond caring. “Tonight we do things my way.”

Kicking her trailing skirts aside, she advanced.

The man stood there, his mouth open, staring at her chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

All sense fled before Edith’s fury. At the same time she wanted to hit him and kiss him.

Kiss him? Where had that thought come from? Massively uncomfortable, hot, nerves itching, overwrought with confused emotions, and uncaring of the consequences, she had to show him who was in charge. She marched up to him, stood toe to toe then stretched toward his frown and pressed her mouth to his.

The softness of his lips shocked her. Who would believe such a hard expression could feel so good? She inhaled. The scents of mint, leather, and the faint odor of chocolate swirled in her head, anger drowned in a flood of desire. After a moment, his mouth responded, moving ever so slightly back and forth across her own. This was even better. Tiny lightning bolts struck her skin. The itching hadn’t stopped, in fact the tingling sensation increased. It felt wonderful, and Edith wanted more.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and let her body fall against his until they were pressed together from shoulder to knee. A thousand new sensations overwhelmed her, and she tried to get closer. His arms tightened around her in a most gratifying manner.

Inwardly Edith crowed, and the knot of tension in her belly loosened. She’d kissed him, and he’d returned her kiss. She’d shown him that she was in charge. Her desires would take precedence.

***

This was the most awkward, ill-practiced, unsubtle attempt at seduction that Dutch had ever been party to, and as Cerise Duval’s one-time toy he’d been party to a great many. The woman kissed like a child. Lips together and almost no pressure, suction, or movement of her mouth, as if mashing faces was all she knew about the process.

Still, Dutch kissed her back. Kissed her like he was starved for it. His lips moved over hers, sampling her tenderness, tasting her sweetness. His hands skimmed along her soft curves to cup her buttocks and urge her closer. The pressure of her breasts against his chest stirred his senses. His manhood hardened, and he ground his hips against her softness. He hadn’t lain with a woman in more than six months. Abstinence alone could explain his body’s response. He waited for her to open her mouth. For a whore, she sure didn’t seem to know what to do. She just hugged him and pressed inward with both her mouth and body, but she didn’t move. Didn’t rub.

Didn’t do anything else. She might as well have been a stick of wood were it not for her heat and heady female scent. The spicy odor of daisies engulfed him. No working girl ever smelled like daisies.

His cock surged, straining toward that eager, inexperienced, feminine warmth. No! He put his hands on her shoulders, pushed her to arm’s length, and stared into her puzzled, hugely dilated, green eyes.

He recalled her approach when he’d entered the room. She’d swayed from side to side in the oddest way. Was she drunk? When he considered her rapidly changing moods and the sudden flush of her skin above the sinking neckline of her dress, he knew drugs to be the cause.

One’s Moment Pleasure
By Rue Allyn
Available for Pre-order

One Moment’s Pleasure will become a lifetime’s passion when spinster, Edith Alden, embarks on a search for her missing sister.  Pretending to be a rich bored woman looking for an interlude with an anonymous male Edith enters the San Francisco bordello where her sister was last seen. She escapes the bordello almost too easily, but she can’t escape the passion ignited by a stranger’s kiss.

Born and raised in the brothels of the California gold rush, Dutch Trahern worked for years to erase a childhood spent committing petty crimes and worse in order to survive. That past comes back to haunt him in the form of a woman he rescues from prostitution. Now his hard won respectability is threatened by an irresistible desire for a woman he shouldn’t want.

Buy link:

Available for pre-order at https://books2read.com/u/mKDW5v with official release on Monday April 20, 202

My Personal Invitation to you.

Please join me and author Jude Knight on Monday, April 20, 2020 at https://www.facebook.com/groups/BellesBrigade/. We will celebrate release day of our most recent novels with a Book Tennis party and all sorts of other fun. Yes, there will be prizes.

About Rue Allyn

Award winning author, Rue Allyn, learned story telling at her grandfather’s knee. (Well it was really more like on his knee—I was two.) She’s been weaving her own tales ever since. She has worked as an instructor, mother, sailor, clerk, sales associate, and painter, along with a variety of other types of employment. She has lived and traveled in places all over the globe from Keflavik Iceland (I did not care much for the long nights of winter.) and Fairbanks Alaska to Panama City and the streets of London England to a large number of places in between. Now that her two sons have left the nest, Rue and her husband of more than four decades (Try living with the same person for more than forty years—that’s a true adventure.) have retired and moved south.

When not writing, enjoying the nearby beach or working jigsaw puzzles, Rue travels the world and surfs the internet in search of background material and inspiration for her next heart melting romance. She loves to hear from readers, and you may contact her at Rue@RueAllyn.com

Find Rue On-line

Keep up with Rue Allyn by subscribing to her newsletter and get a free copy of Knight Protector when you do, or find her here:

Website  https://RueAllyn.com

Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/groups/RueAllynCrew

Twitter  https://twitter.com/RueAllyn

Amazon  https://www.amazon.com/Rue-Allyn/e/B00AUBF3NI/

Goodreads  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5031290.Rue_Allyn

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

First Kiss Friday with Barbara Bettis & a Giveaway!

10 Friday Apr 2020

Posted by in 2019, First Kiss Friday

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Welcome, my lovelies, to another First Kiss Friday with today’s guest Barbara Bettis. You’ve seen Barbara here before, usually on Medieval Mondays, but today she has a first kiss scene for your reading pleasure from For This Knight Only. She’s also offering a giveaway so please be sure to read all the way through to be in the running. Take it away, Barbara!

Thank you for having me on your lovely blog today, Sherry. I’m celebrating the book birthday of one of my favorite medievals. I loved writing Roark and Alyss’s story. Both are determined to have their own way, but each must learn to compromise.

EXCERPT:

Anger drove her to answer without thought. “No one can force me to marry.”

He stepped back. “Sir Baldwin, tell Lady Alyss of the messenger who just left.”

Baldwin shot her a pained look of apology. “From Windom he came, milady. The new master there commands an interview tomorrow, under order of Prince John. I sent him on his way, but it don’t look good. This new master’ll be here early in the morn, I’m bettin’.”

Alyss stood, chin high, arms crossed beneath her breasts. “Let him come.”

Sir Roark chuckled. “By God, my lady, we’ll deal well together.” He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against his broad chest.

Before she could protest, Sir Roark’s mouth was on hers, and she was forced to clutch his sleeves. Only to keep from tumbling over, of course, because her traitorous legs threatened to collapse. Then the tip of his tongue brushed the seam of her lips, and she lost all thought but his taste and the strangely comforting arms holding her up.

****

The kiss had been a damned mistake. Roark had meant it as a statement of possession. But her softness hit him like a mace. When he inhaled the rich fragrance of spice and roses and woman, his intent changed. He hauled her closer, slanted his mouth, stroked his tongue along the seam of her lips. At her whimper, a flicker of guilt undercut Roark’s stirring of desire. He ought not do this to the lady. He ought to gather his belongings and be on his way.

But the memory of the recent messenger lingered. That one portended nothing good. If Roark gave in to his inconveniently awakening conscience, by tomorrow night Chauvere, its people, and its lady would be the property of the neighboring lord. Of that, Roark was certain. So the way he saw it, either Lady Alyss married him or she’d be forced to accept someone else. And if Windom’s representative was any indication of his master, she’d not like that alternative.

What would it take to persuade her? A sudden pain burst between his legs, and he gasped, eyes blurry. The little hell-cat kneed him. Even though chain mail deflected some of the impact, he used every bit of his willpower to remain standing.

Apparently persuasion took more than a kiss.

For This Knight Only
By Barbara Bettis

 

He’ll do anything for land, even marry her; she’ll do anything for her people, except marry him.  If only either had a choice.  It’s a marriage only love can save.

Sir Roark will do anything to gain land, even beguile an unwilling lady into marriage. He knows she’s much better off with a man to take control of her besieged castle, to say nothing of her desirable person. But it isn’t long before he discovers that, although her eyes sparkle like sunlight on sea waves, her stubbornness alone could have defeated Saladin.

Lady Alyss is determined to hold her family’s castle, protect her people, and preserve her freedom— until her brother’s dying wish binds her to a stranger. Still, she’ll allow no rugged, over-confident, appealing knight to usurp her authority, even if she must wed him. Especially since he thinks a lady’s duties begin and end with directing servants. Alyss has a few surprises for her new all-too-tempting lord.

But when a common enemy threatens everything, Roark and Alyss face a startling revelation. Without love, neither land nor freedom matters.

Buy Links
Amazon  |  B&N|  iTunes

Bio:

Award-winning author Barbara Bettis has always loved history and English. As a college freshman, she considered becoming an archeologist until she realized there likely would be bugs and snakes involved. And math. Through careers as a newspaper reporter and editor, then a college journalism and English professor, she’s retained her fascination with history. Give her a research book and a pot of tea, and she’s happy for hours. But what really makes her smile is working on a new story. Now retired, she lives in Missouri where she spins tales of heroines to die for—and heroes to live for.

Find Barb Here:

Bookbub
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Blog/Website

GIVEAWAY: Most—if not all—of us are still at home and looking for new books to read. As a gift for your comments today, you’ll be entered to win one of Sherry’s ebooks of your choice, plus this one of mine. If you already have it, we’ll make some accommodations J Please leave your email addy along with your comments. Thank you for being here!

First Kiss Friday with Jude Knight

27 Friday Mar 2020

Posted by in 2020, First Kiss Friday

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Any day I can welcome my friend Jude Knight to my First Kiss Friday blog is a good day. She certainly has a way of pulling at your heartstrings. Read on to find out what she has in store for you!

This first kiss appears in Paradise Lost, the little collection of vignettes that Jude Knight is currently writing, and that she’ll give away to newsletter subscribers when she publishes the story of James’s son next month, on 15 April. Paradise Lost is a companion piece to Paradise Regained, which is about James. To Wed a Proper Lady is the story of his son, and novel one of six in The Children of the Mountain King.

Excerpt:

Eleanor traced the words in the water that puddled on the stone rim of the fountain. “Lady James Winderfield.” Her lips curved in a tremulous smile. The man she loved was asking her father for her hand, and would soon come to ask her.

“I have made an appointment to meet your father tomorrow,” he had whispered in her ear last night as they promenaded down the centre of the double line of dances. Then, as they passed one another, a few moments later, “You know what I want to ask him, my darling.”

She circled the girl at the head of the ladies’ line, barely aware of the other people in the room, conscious only of James and the words that set her heart thumping. Only years of practice kept her moving gracefully back around to meet James again, her arm stretched high, her hand ready for his brief clasp and her ears for another burst of whispered words.

“This is what you want?”

Looking up, she nodded, and the anxiety cleared from his eyes as they met hers. How could he be unsure of her? She had no further opportunity to reassure him. They had to part and dance down the outside of their respective lines, and the music drew to a close before they could speak again.

Her mother was waiting, and hurried her away. The Earl of Farnmouth, her father, had decided it was time to leave.

He was with her father now, shut in the earl’s study. Soon, surely, the earl would send him out into the garden. The answer would be yes, of course. As the daughter of an earl, she knew her worth, but James was third son of a duke; a duke, furthermore who was a friend of her father.

Eleanor cast a glance at the house and frowned slightly. Lord Farnmouth would say yes. Of course, he would. Only last week, he had interrupted her dinner with her mother to announce that he expected a very eligible offer for Eleanor’s hand. “I am pleased with your daughter, countess,” he had told her mother. “Betrothed after only two months after her debut. You are to be congratulated, madam.”

He had not spoken to Eleanor, but he seldom did. Nor had he given a name, but who could it be but James? James was her most ardent suitor. Indeed, since the rapscallion son of the Duke of Winshire had made her the object of his devotion, the rest of her court had fallen away. They had been callow boys, in any case, standing up with her because of childhood friendship or because she had become fashionable.

James was a man, not a boy — twenty-four years to her seventeen. He was unbelievably handsome, charming, clever, funny, and dearer to her than anyone she had ever known, even her older sister. And he had chosen her! She clapped her hands and spun in a circle, unable to contain her delight.

Soon he would come. She composed herself on the stone bench opposite the path by which he would enter the garden.  How would he propose? On one knee? Sitting beside her? The thought had her up on her feet again, too excited to stay still, peering down the path.

“Eleanor!” It was a hiss just a hairsbreadth above a whisper.

She spun around. James had come from the other direction. Well, no matter. She hurried towards him, her hands outstretched. What was the matter? The tragic expression on his face frightened her. “James? What is the matter?”

He clasped her hands and pulled her after him into the shadows of the yew walk, where he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her hair. “Eleanor, I love you. I love you more than life itself. You believe me, do you not?”

Eleanor pulled away, but only enough to peer into his eyes. “James? What did my father say?”

James groaned.

“James, you are frightening me. Did he say we must wait?”

“Eleanor, he says that he has given your hand to the Duke of Haverford,” James blurted.

Eleanor’s breath stopped and she could hear her blood surging in her ears as her heart pounded. Her sight grew dark at the edges, and the enormous yew hedges swayed towards her as if to batter her into the ground. By force of will, she fought off her faintness. “But… but he is old,” she stammered, “and a wicked libertine, and cold as ice.” She stamped her foot. “I don’t want him, James. I love you. I love you, James.”

“Shush, my love,” James begged. “We must be quiet. Farnmouth told me I could not see you again, but I had to, Eleanor. I’ll find a way. I promise. You love me and I love you. I will ask my father to help. He is friends with yours. Surely Winshire can persuade the earl.”

“Yes!” Eleanor’s heart gave another enormous thump, this time with relief. “We will be together?” she asked.

“We will marry,” James promised. He bent his head and his lips touched hers. It was a gentle, reverent salute, but Eleanor pressed closer and the kiss changed, James’s lips still soft, but questing, moving, devouring. His tongue pressed the seam of her mouth and swept inside when she gasped. Again, the darkness hovered, but this time it was a welcoming warmth, a giving and taking of sensation, a merging of selves so that Eleanor no longer knew who sighed and who moaned, or how long they stayed intertwined.

The whistling of a gardener brought them back to themselves. “I must go,” James told her. “Stay strong, my love. We are meant to be together, and I will find a way.”

“We are meant to be together,” she agreed.

***

The Duchess of Haverford put the rose back into her memory box. It was from a small bouquet he had sent her. She had worn it for that last dance. Now it was fragile, dried and faded, adorned with yet another tear to join all the others she had wept on it in the past ten years. Once, she had loved and been loved. That, at least, would never change.

***

For more about Paradise Regained, see https://judeknightauthor.com/books/paradise-regained/

For more about The Children of the Mountain King series, see https://judeknightauthor.com/the-children-of-the-mountain-king/

For more about To Wed a Proper Lady, including preorder, see https://judeknightauthor.com/books/to-wed-a-proper-lady/

For your copy of Paradise Lost, subscribe to Jude’s newsletter: https://judeknightauthor.com/newsletter/

About Jude Knight:

Have you ever wanted something so much you were afraid to even try? That was Jude ten years ago.

For as long as she can remember, she’s wanted to be a novelist. She even started dozens of stories, over the years.

But life kept getting in the way. A seriously ill child who required years of therapy; a rising mortgage that led to a full-time job; six children, her own chronic illness… the writing took a back seat.

As the years passed, the fear grew. If she didn’t put her stories out there in the market, she wouldn’t risk making a fool of herself. She could keep the dream alive if she never put it to the test.

Then her mother died. That great lady had waited her whole life to read a novel of Jude’s, and now it would never happen.

So Jude faced her fear and changed it–told everyone she knew she was writing a novel. Now she’d make a fool of herself for certain if she didn’t finish.

Her first book came out to excellent reviews in December 2014, and the rest is history. Many books, lots of positive reviews, and a few awards later, she plans to keep publishing until she runs out of years.

Website and blog: http://judeknightauthor.com/

Subscribe to newsletter: http://judeknightauthor.com/newsletter/

Bookshop: https://judeknight.selz.com/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JudeKnightBooks

Pinterest: https://nz.pinterest.com/jknight1033/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jude-knight

First Kiss Friday with Virginia Heath & a Giveaway!

13 Friday Mar 2020

Posted by in 2020, First Kiss Friday

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Welcome to another First Kiss Friday. Today’s guest is my friend Virginia Heath who as an excerpt from Redeeming the Reclusive Earl. Take it away Virginia!

I love a quirky pairing and Max and Effie in REDEEMING THE RECLUSIVE EARL are certainly that. Scarred from a fire, Max is trying to hide from the world at his newly inherited estate but those plans are scuppered by the tenacious Effie who flatly refuses to abandon her archaeological dig on his land. Effie is, for want of a better word, a genius with a photographic mind who terrifies most men with her intelligence. Despite his initial anger at her trespassing, the pair form an unlikely friendship as Max finds himself recruited as her reluctant assistant…

Excerpt:

Did she intimidate him?

What sort of a blasted question was that to ask hot on the heels after he had only just discovered there had been multiple idiots who had apparently kissed her in the past. Idiots who were too stupid not to want to do it again! Because to his way of thinking, asking if she intimidated him was merely a polite way of asking if she emasculated him, which would be laughable if everything about Effie didn’t remind him hourly exactly how masculine he truly was.

The most masculine part of him was still reeling at the sight of her all flustered and damp in that worn shirt and those damned form-fitting breeches. And she had a smear of mud on her cheek, which he’d had the devil of a job not brushing away the second he had seen it. The only way he could stop himself was to pretend he did not want to hold her muddy hand when he had stupidly offered to help her out of the trench, because in that precise moment, had he hauled her up, he would have hauled her into his arms and likely scared the hell out of her.

What baffled him, what he still couldn’t wrap his head around, was how those idiotic men had found the strength not to kiss her because he was severely struggling with it.

Every day it got harder and, to make it worse, the urge wasn’t only fired by her pretty face and mouth-watering figure, but by her mind. The more he got to know her, the more he wanted to know her in every sense of the word. His unwelcome infestation of visitors aside, the past three days had been interminable because he had missed her. He’d even ridden twice in the pouring rain in the pathetic hope he would still find her here, tenaciously digging despite the foul weather. The linen shirt plastered to her skin and rendered translucent…

And those thoughts were not helping his discomfort at all. What had possessed him to work in the same trench as her? Mere inches away, but still too many miles apart for his liking.

Blasted torture!

Clearly he had a masochistic streak to have chosen this, rather than the other fifteen trenches he had dug, just to be close to her?

Annoyed, he thrust the trowel into the soft mud wall in front of him and felt the tip of it strike something solid. Even though he knew it was probably a rock, he still took the time to remove the soil carefully from the surface exactly as Effie had taught him.

The edge of whatever it was seemed large and curved like a wheel and, because he did not possess her patience or want to alert her to the fact he might have found something and then have to suffer her leaning over him while he worked, he discarded the trowel and began to tug away the earth with his fingers. Then he hit peat and that happily crumbled with the merest touch.

Little by little, the object quickly revealed itself until Max had uncovered a foot-wide crescent. But unlike a wheel, it wasn’t hollow, nor did it have spokes. He swiped his hands over it to clean away the mud and then stared in disbelief at the tiny spot of ornately tooled metal he had clumsily uncovered.

‘Effie…’

His tone must have alerted her to his discovery, because like a shot she as at his side and staring in disbelief. ‘Good heavens…’

Suddenly crouched next to him, her fingers joined his as they frantically removed the dirt. A task made easier by the moisture left in the ground from days of rain , the removal of years of compacted earth with the pickaxe only days before and the fresh drops which decided to fall from the sky to soften the peat it sat in. In no time and oblivious of the rainfall soaking them through, they had unveiled a perfect circle, obviously an ancient shield, the centre decorated with a proud riveted disc around which swirling patterns had been pressed into the metal.

Max stepped back to allow her smaller, more nimble, gentle fingers to prise the embedded edges from the earth, then watched transfixed as it was suddenly and miraculously free with hardly any effort and she lifted it.

‘I cannot believe it is completely intact.’ She laid it reverently on the grass on the top of the trench and ran her palm over the pattern as the rain that had started again hammered down on it. ‘Unless the peat somehow preserves things better than normal soil?’ She tugged free the hem of her shirt and used it to clean away as much muck as she could and then just stood and stared at it in wonder. ‘It is beautiful… Truly beautiful… Obviously bronze by the patina and lack of rust… The workmanship exquisite.’

‘So much for the Celts being savages, then? The man who used this had excellent taste and knew one hell of a blacksmith.’

She slowly turned to him, half-smiling, half-agog. ‘You are right… The man who owned this was someone special, Max. This shield is a statement. Purely ceremonial, I’ll wager, and a mark of his status, exactly like the gold bracelet. Both are incredibly special objects and it is too coincidental to find two such treasures in one small space.’

‘Do you think it plausible this wooden hut belonged to a king?’ If the Celts even had kings.

‘Perhaps… Which would make this dwelling…’ Awe turned to excitement as she beamed, then launched at him, wrapping her arms around him in an exuberant hug while jumping up and down. ‘Oh, Max! This is wonderful! Wonderful! You’ve found something wonderful! He’s someone important! Someone hugely important! That explains why his house is so big!’

‘Do you think?’

‘It has to be! He is an eminent chieftain or a king!’

‘Or a queen like that Boudicca you and my sister are so fond of. That bracelet is too small for a man’s wrist. And then there is that comb you found. Big, hairy, blue men wouldn’t bother with a comb…’

‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if this was a woman’s house? A different sort of woman than society understands today, of course.’ Much like Effie herself. ‘But one who mattered once. Someone important…’ Her hands clutched at his waistcoat as she beamed and bounced on the spot. ‘You’ve found something amazing, Max!’ Caught up in her excitement he looped his arm around her waist and laughed, picking her up and spinning her around in the confined space as best he could until they were both giddy. ‘You’ve found something amazing!’

‘We found something amazing, Effie.’

We…

He liked the sound of that on his lips. Liked the feel of her arms locked around his neck. The feel of her lush body in damp fabric plastered against him. The sight of her bedraggled hair and the way it dripped rainwater on to his face. The way that rainwater spiked her long lashes and dewed her lips.

He felt his heart beating against her ribs.

Felt his chest rise and fall in time with hers.

Lost himself in the depths of her beautiful, expressive eyes.

Then forgot all the reasons why he shouldn’t kiss her and simply did, sighing against her mouth as he gathered her close. She tasted like the outdoors. The sea air. The vast horizons he had sailed towards, filled with promise and wonder. Smelled of lilacs and roses and rainwater. Felt like utter perfection in his arms.

As if she had been made for him. That was his last rational thought before he lost himself.

Until the sound of rapidly approaching hoofbeats broke the spell and the pair of them jumped apart and blinked at each other, stunned.

REDEEMING THE RECLUSIVE  EARL
By Virginia Heath

His heart is a fortress.

And she’s trespassing!

After losing all he holds dear in a horrific fire, Max Aldersley, Earl of Rivenhall, shuns the world—until he catches Effie Nithercott digging holes on his estate! He banishes the intrepid archaeologist and the unsettled feelings she rouses within him. But she returns even more determined and infuriatingly desirable than before! He wonders just how deep she’s prepared to dig—so far she’ll reach the man beneath his scars?

Giveaway question: For a chance to win 1 of 3 eBook copies of REDEEMING THE RECLUSIVE EARL simply answer the following question:

I love a tortured hero and there aren’t many more tortured than poor Max- who is you favourite fictional tortured hero?

Buy link: mybook.to/reclusiveearl

Social links:

https://www.facebook.com/virginiaheathauthor/

https://www.virginiaheathromance.com/

Virginia Heath bio:

When Virginia Heath was a little girl it took her ages to fall asleep, so she made up stories in her head to help pass the time while she was staring at the ceiling. As she got older, the stories became more complicated, sometimes taking weeks to get to the happy ending. Then one day, she decided to embrace the insomnia and start writing them down. Eighteen books later, it still takes her forever to fall asleep.

First Kiss Friday with Karysa Faire

21 Friday Feb 2020

Posted by in 2020, First Kiss Friday, Uncategorized

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Hello, my lovelies, and welcome to another First Kiss Friday. Today it’s my pleasure to welcome my dear friend Karysa Faire to my blog. Karysa is debuting her first release Take Two. I’m so excited to share an excerpt with you. Happy reading and enjoy!

Excerpt:

Roger joined her, handing her a cup of coffee while he noisily sipped on his own. He sat down on the plush chair across from her, toeing off his shoes in turn.

Her eyes closed against the steam. The first sip was almost too hot as it went down her throat, warming her insides.

“Mmmm. I needed that. Thank you.” She opened her eyes and was surprised to see him staring at her chest. She quickly looked down to see if she’d become unbuttoned and said a little prayer of thanks that her bra wasn’t popping out of her blouse. “Uh, so—” Rachel cleared her throat.

Roger’s eyes flew up. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?” He gave her a crooked grin and didn’t look sorry at all for being caught.

“Thank you for the coffee.” Rachel smiled back and took another sip. She felt the caffeine begin to do its magic. “It’s better than I have at home.” She drank the rest quickly, enjoying the feeling.

“Refill, my lady?” Roger got up and refilled her cup as she held it. This time, he sat down beside Rachel. The couch dipped next to her and she almost fumbled her hold on the cup. A flutter went through her at the heat of his body next to hers. They’d been this close in the cab, but he’d still been dressed as Rohbert. Now, he was all Roger.

But he hadn’t kissed her before when she’d opened the door to the possibility. What the hell were you thinking, Rachel?

Not knowing what else to do, Rachel brought the coffee to her lips, took a gulp, then put it down on the table. She looked straight ahead, not at the man, her fantasy, sitting next to her.

She felt his hand lightly caress her shoulder and arm. He shifted and was even closer to her, overwhelming her senses. Rachel felt her hair get pushed back, tucked behind her ear, those magic fingers of his leaving hot trails on her skin.

“I’m uh…” She cleared her throat then tried to speak again. Her words were lost as his other hand reached for hers.

“You really don’t need to go home tonight,” he said, barely above a whisper.

She stood and faced him, needing to put at least an inch of distance between them so she could talk without being distracted. With him sitting on the couch and with her shoes off, she was only a few inches taller. She could almost look directly into those famous green eyes of his, the eyes that didn’t waver as they darkened. “I’m, I’m very confused,” Rachel stammered.

“Allow me to make it clear.” Roger locked his hands around both her wrists and pulled her toward him. Thrown off balance, she fell into his lap. His arm slipped over her hip and he angled her body to his chest.

She looked Roger Conrad in the eyes, his lashes darker so close up. She swallowed, not daring to follow this wish through.

“Hi there,” he said, moving toward her. He was so close his nose touched the side of hers.

“Hi,” she finally managed back. His breath was laced with fresh coffee and the remaining hint of alcohol, a smell she vaguely thought shouldn’t be arousing. But it was, he was, and the smell went straight to her core, imprinting itself in her memory forever.

What the hell. I’ll pretend I’m Isabella and he’s Rohbert. Rachel took the plunge and closed the space between them, giving him small, questing kisses. She ran the tip of her tongue over his lips, asking for entry to his mouth. He moaned and embraced her, circling her body with his long arms.

In a quick movement, Roger shifted their positions, Rachel’s back now on the couch. He pressed his lips urgently against hers, all tentativeness gone. She kissed him back with a need that stunned her.

Rachel heard herself whimper as Roger pulled her body closer to his. He ran his other hand over her clothes, down her waist and to her thigh, teasing the hem of her skirt upwards. His smell was intoxicating. Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck and hooked her leg over the back of his knee. As she grabbed his hair, he pulled back for a breath. “Didn’t you say you had to leave?” he teased.

“That wasn’t me talking.” She grinned and pulled him back down to her.

Take Two
By Karysa Faire
$3.99 or #FREE in Kindle Unlimited

Is their love real or fiction?

 Rachel is a teacher and a single mom who’s picked up the pieces of her life after a horrible marriage. She’d thought her ex-husband was the man of her dreams. He wasn’t. She’s moved on and written a historical romance novel, Swashbuckler, that’s been picked up by Hollywood.

Rodger is an actor who doesn’t trust women. He’s made bad choices in his past that have come to haunt him in the present, especially the choice that came packaged with blond hair, large tits, and a marriage that was doomed from the start. Rodger thought they were in love—turns out his wife was a social-climber more interested in his status than his heart. He doubts there is a woman alive who can love him for who he is, and not for his fame or for the fantasy he presents to the world.

Both Rachel and Rodger have been burned by love, trusting a reality that turned out only to be fantasy. Will their fear succeed at keeping them apart? Or will they break through the barriers and allow themselves to love once again? After all, sometimes reality is much sweeter than fantasy.

Buy Link or Free in Kindle Unlimited: Amazon US

About the Author:

Karysa Faire is a fiction writer and high school science teacher. Her best days are when something unexpected and new happens – whether that be in the classroom or during vacations when she goes on extended road trips to haunted ghost towns. Karysa writes a variety of romance genres including contemporary, historical, erotica, horror, and paranormal. She’s also been known to write a mean lab report. Karysa lives in the San Francisco Bay Area along with millions of other people, including her wonderful family.

 Website: https://www.karysafaire.com/

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

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First Kiss Friday with Celeste Barclay

14 Friday Feb 2020

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Happy Valentine’s Day, my lovelies! Today on First Kiss Friday I’d like to introduce you to author Celeste Barclay who will be sharing her first kiss scene from A Spinster at the Highland Court. Happy reading and enjoy!

Excerpt:

It wasn’t until Elizabeth exited the trees into an open meadow that she was sure she was being followed. She lifted her elbow again to peer under her arm, but her billowing cloak kept obscuring her view. She saw the rider gaining on her, but it was impossible to tell if he was friend or foe. She thanked the heavens she was positive her horse could outrun any other, but she was becoming uncomfortable as the gap shrank. Elizabeth tugged sharply on the left rein and steered them toward a fast-moving stream. In spring it would swell into a river, but in the winter, it was a freezing stream. Her horse entered the water with no reservation, having taken this route countless times over the years. They forded the stream as the water rose to the soles of Elizabeth’s boots. The cold water splashed over the horse’s stomach, and while she was sure it refreshed her mount, it was like shards of glass pricking through her breeches. But the wind against her face was the freedom she needed, so the momentary discomfort was a small price. She kept her body parallel to the horse’s withers as they barreled downhill. An expansive wood greeted them at the base. She led them into the trees to the right in the hopes it would buy her the chance to see who followed if the rider didn’t change direction.

Elizabeth stroked her horse between the ears and murmured to him to keep him from snorting and shaking his head. Despite the gallop, rider and horse were silent as their pursuer crested the hill and began his descent. The man seemed to be looking directly in front of him, so Elizabeth’s heart lurched into her throat when they turned to face her hiding spot.

“Don’t hide from me, Elizabeth. I’m already angrier than a shaken hive. Come out now.” Edward scanned the trees to make out a shadowy form. He’d nearly fallen from his horse in panic when Elizabeth disappeared over the crest of the hill. He was familiar with how steep the decline was, and he imagined her being thrown and trampled as her horse faltered.

Elizabeth didn’t move. She held her breath and prayed her horse would do the same. He shifted slightly, sensing her tension, and she was sure Edward saw them. When he nudged his horse into the trees, she didn’t know if she should remain still or try to flee. His words reached her, but it was his tone that made her nervous.

“Very well. You refuse to heed my directions, then I shall come to you. Don’t believe you’re well hidden. I can see you and that monster clearly.”

Elizabeth’s hackles went up with a need to defend her horse. He was only an animal, but he was her pet and her best friend. He intuited her every innermost thought and emotion since she received him as a colt. She also was irritated at Edward’s high handedness. He had no say over what she did or where she went. It was only the knowledge that he’d report her to the queen that kept her quiet. She didn’t need to add insult to injury by being rude.

Edward pulled alongside her, and before she said a word in her defense, he plucked her from the saddle. His mouth crashed down onto hers as she landed in his lap. He yanked her hood down and whipped off her cap before lacing his fingers through her hair. His kiss was punishing, and Elizabeth tasted the fear. His other hand roamed over her, but it wasn’t a lover’s caress. It seemed more like he was checking her for injury. It only softened when he was reassured she was hale. His tongue darted against the seam of her lips until she opened to him. Her moan of surprise and want had him lifting her to straddle him and his horse. When her mound came in contact with his stiff cock, it was his turn to groan. He cupped her backside as she shifted to get closer.

Elizabeth clung to his tunic as her head would surely float away. His tongue inside her mouth was strange at first, but curiosity replaced shock. Her tongue tangled with his, and some instinct told her to suck. Edward’s response was immediate. His fingers dug into her backside painfully, but she found the touch of pain exciting. The tighter she pinched her nipples when she touched herself, the faster she climaxed. The heat radiating from Edward’s chest warmed her cold fingers, and when they found their way to the laces of his collar, she slid them beneath to find scorching smooth skin. She mewled in protest when she was unable to touch more of him, so she caressed his neck and shoulders until she grazed her nails over his scalp and tangled her fingers in his hair. His responding growl vibrated through her channel deep into her core.

Edward wanted to know what secrets hid inside that soft, unyielding flesh. He wanted to strip her bare and claim her. He wanted to vow he’d protect her from anyone and everyone, including herself. He wanted to revel in how she amazed him with her fearlessness and now passion. He wanted to worship her until she couldn’t take another moment of pleasure. It was only when the horses shifted that they both drew apart. They sat looking at one another, and neither was sure what to say. Edward stroked the downy skin of her cheek and tucked hairs that came loose behind her ears. The longer he sat holding her in his lap, the more his previous anger resurged. His heart hadn’t slowed, and he recalled why he pulled her from her saddle and kissed her senseless.

A Spinster at the Highland Court
The Highland Ladies Book One
By Celeste Barclay

A spinster lady in waiting…

After four broken betrothals, Elizabeth Fraser believes her father’s political ambitions will keep her from ever finding a husband. Content to be considered on the shelf, Elizabeth would rather be left in peace as one of the queen’s ladies in waiting than engage in flirtations that lead nowhere. She never expected one chance encounter months ago would alter the future she had accepted.

Will Elizabeth give Edward a second chance to prove he wants more than a dalliance?

A warrior wanting to return home…

Edward Bruce, the adopted younger brother of King Robert the Bruce, is tired of fighting the English in Ireland. Loyal to his brother but homesick, Edward returns to Robert’s Scottish court in hopes of settling down once more in the Highlands. Edward recognizes the beguiling Lady Elizabeth from a brief meeting that involved one dance and a rushed conversation on the terrace. He still can’t believe the rumor she started to protect her friends. Drawn to her dry whit and independent nature, Edward realizes that his new home will require one particular lady of the keep.

Can Edward prove to his Highland lady that his intentions are sincere before time runs out?

 A hidden threat…

When Elizabeth and Edward realize their lives are in danger, they must rely on the Sinclair brothers and their wives to help them investigate who might want them dead. Courtly intrigue follows them as their new love blooms and a home in the Highlands calls to them.

 Welcome to Robert the Bruce’s Highland Court, where the ladies in waiting are a mixture of fire and ice. The Highland Ladies, spin off series from Celeste Barclay’s The Clan Sinclair series, returns to the Medieval royal court for love and intrigue. A Spinster at the Highland Court is the much requested and highly anticipated story of Elizabeth Fraser who appeared in both His Highland Pledge and His Highland Surprise. She finally has her own steamy love story and HEA. This a full length novel.  The novella previously appeared in the Once Upon a Christmas Wedding anthology.

Buy Link: Amazon

About the Author:

Celeste Barclay, a nom de plume, lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. Growing up in the Midwest, Celeste enjoyed spending as much time in and on the water as she could. Now she lives near the beach. She’s an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former rower. When she’s not writing, she’s working or being a mom.

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First Kiss Friday with Caroline Warfield

07 Friday Feb 2020

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Welcome to another First Kiss Friday. Today’s guest is my dear friend Caroline Warfield who is sharing an excerpt from her novella Lord Ethan’s Courage found in our box set Fire & Frost. Happy reading, my lovelies, and enjoy!

Unlike the heroes of the other stories in Fire & Frost, Ethan isn’t able to actually bid on Flora’s time and her basket in the ladies’ charity auction due to illness. He sends his brother as surrogate. He does, however, have a surprise for her.

Excerpt:

She took a step back, arms akimbo and flashed him stern frown. “Is that all you want to say? ‘Call on me?’ Where is your courage when I need it?”

He came closer to her. “I have no right to say more, but if you can be patient…”

Flo heaved a sigh of exasperation and closed the distance between them, grabbing his shoulders, and meeting his lips with her impatient ones. After a heartbeat he returned the kiss with an achingly tender one, using his damaged arm to pull her close while he feathered his graceful fingers across her cheek.

“Much better,” she sighed against his neck, “But know this. I can wait out my mourning and your illness, but do not ask me to be patient.” She spat each of the last words out one by one. “I am not a patient woman when I know what I want, Ethan Alcott, and I want you.”

He kissed her again, this time deeply, passionately, possessively. When she moaned and pulled him closer, he pulled back, tipping his forehead onto hers. “Your brother believes you deserve a Season. I agree. If you still want this in a year…”

“God save me from men and their honor,” she muttered into his cravat.

About the Story

When Flora Landrum’s family is thrown into mourning and her brother loses himself in his new duties as earl, she refuses to be shunted off to her sister’s household under the eye of her vile brother-in-law. If the new earl can take time from his problems to do charity work for returning veterans, so can Flora, even if she has to sneak behind his back to visit some unsavory neighborhoods.

Lord Ethan Alcott lost his desire to live after the horrors of the peninsular war. The courage that enabled him to lead men into battle and drove him to charge into the rioting in its aftermath to save innocents failed him when he woke up on a troopship, just one wounded man among many. He was content to sit among the most wretched in an alley waiting for death until the day an innocent young lady stormed bravely among them determined to alleviate what suffering she could. She ought not be there and honor bound him to find her family and tell them so.

Flora might be insulted by the interference, but she isn’t about to let him sink back into misery. Ethan has a new battle on his hands, one for his life.

Fire & Frost:
A Bluestocking Belles Collection
Only $0.99

In a winter so cold the Thames freezes over, five couples venture onto the ice in pursuit of love to warm their hearts.

Love unexpected, rekindled, or brand new—even one that’s a whack on the side of the head—heats up the frigid winter. After weeks of fog and cold, all five stories converge on the ice at the 1814 Frost Fair when the ladies’ campaign to help the wounded and unemployed veterans of the Napoleonic wars culminates in a charity auction that shocks the high sticklers of the ton.

In their 2020 collection, join the Bluestocking Belles and their heroes and heroines as The Ladies’ Society For The Care of the Widows and Orphans of Fallen Heroes and the Children of Wounded Veterans pursues justice, charity, and soul-searing romance.

Celebrate Valentine’s Day 2020 with five interconnected Regency romances.

BUY LINKS

Amazon US  |  Apple Books  | Barnes & Noble | Kobo  | Smashwords

Amazon Global:

AU BR CA DE ES FR IN IT JP MX NL UK

About the Author

Award winning author Caroline Warfield has been many things: traveler, librarian, poet, raiser of children, bird watcher, Internet and Web services manager, conference speaker, indexer, tech writer, genealogist—even a nun. She reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows where 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.

Visit Caroline’s Website and Blog  http://www.carolinewarfield.com/

Meet Caroline on Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/carolinewarfield7

Follow Caroline on Twitter https://twitter.com/CaroWarfield

Email Caroline directly   warfieldcaro@gmail.com

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Caroline’s Other Books

Amazon                      https://www.amazon.com/Caroline-Warfield/e/B00N9PZZZS/

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First Kiss Friday with Sherry Ewing

31 Friday Jan 2020

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Hello, my dearest readers! Today for First Kiss Friday I have a treat for you. You’ll be getting the first kiss scene from my novella A Second Chance At Love that is in the Bluestocking Belles’ box set Fire & Frost. This set is available for pre-order and releases on Tuesday, February 4th. Our set centers around a common theme, the Frost Fair of 1814, where the winter was so cold the Thames freezes over. I know you’ve been waiting for Lord Digby Osgood and Lady Constance Whittles story since Under the Mistletoe and now you’ll have it to add to your collection. Happy reading, my lovelies and enjoy!

Excerpt:

Constance waited in the foyer while a servant went to fetch her pelisse. Her aunt had stayed behind in the meeting room to finish up a few details, and Constance hoped this would give her some additional time alone with Digby. Her heart leapt when she saw him leaving the front parlor. She could barely contain her breathing as he came ever nearer to her side. How she loved this man.

“Your aunt—” he started to say, bowing over her hand.

“—is momentarily delayed,” she finished with a smile.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Come with me,” he urged, while gently taking her elbow.

She gave a quick glance around and nodded. None of the other people gathering in the foyer paid any attention to them. They were too preoccupied with their own conversations or going on about the details of the event to follow next month.

Constance and Digby did not go far and she was thankful he escorted her into an open room with no door, thus ensuring her reputation remained intact. A nook not visible from the hallway gave them a semblance of privacy and she could only wonder what this man who owned her heart would do next. She did not have long to wait.

“You may think this is too forward of me, Lady Constance,” he began.

She let a light laugh escaped her. “We have known one another far too long to be so formal, my lord, at least when we are alone together.”

He brightened her day with his smile and brought her closer. “Constance… you do me a great honor.”

“The honor is mine, Digby,” she breathed in a soft whisper, resting her hands lightly on his forearms.

“During my time away, a day did not go by that I did not think of you. The hurt I caused you at our parting has weighed heavily on my mind for two long years.”

“I have already forgiven you for all that, Digby.”

“Yes, I know, and I am most grateful you can forget my foolishness. This may be too fast, since we have only just reunited, but I wanted you to know I still care for you, Constance.”

She reached up to cup his cheek. “Digby, surely you must know you still own my heart?”

“You give me hope for a future together,” he said in a husky tone.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

She thought she was prepared for when Digby bent down to place his lips upon her own. The kiss was gentle at first, a testament to what they truly felt for one another. But as she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, everything changed. Digby pulled her into his arms and every fiber of her being burst in sheer joy. He deepened their kiss, and she was more than willing to follow his lead. Tingling sensations stole down her spine and Constance knew in this very instant that she had not lost his love. Surely, if Digby could kiss her like this then he would certainly wish for them to wed at some point in their future.

A Second Chance At Love in
Fire & Frost: A Bluestocking Belles Collection
Pre-order now for $0.99!

Can the bittersweet frost of lost love be rekindled into a burning flame?

Viscount Digby Osgood returns to London after a two-year absence, planning to avoid the woman he courted and then left. Surely she has moved on with her life; even married by now. A bit of encouragement from a friend, however, pushes him to seek the lady out. Can she ever forgiven him and give them a second chance at love?

Lady Constance Whittles has only cared for one man in her life. Even after he broke her heart, it remains fixed on him. Another man tries to replace him, but she soon learns she can never feel for him a shadow of what she still feels for Digby. One brief encounter with Digby confirms it; she is more than willing to forgive him. Can they truly take up where they left off?

Charity projects and a Frost Fair on the Thames bring them together, but another stands in their way. Will he tear them apart?

Buy Links for Fire & Frost:
Amazon US  |  Apple Books  | Barnes & Noble | Kobo  | Smashwords

Amazon Global:
AU BR CA DE ES FR IN IT JP MX NL UK

 

First Kiss Friday with Ruth Kaufman

24 Friday Jan 2020

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Welcome to another First Kiss Friday, my lovelies! Todays guest is author Ruth Kaufman who has an excerpt from her recently release story My Rival, My Love: De Wolfe Pack Connected World. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene! Happy reading.

Excerpt:

“Good, sir, do I have your permission to get my hopes up now?” she asked.

“You do.”

They laughed. The first true laugh of his she’d heard. She loved the carefree sound.

Caught up in the moment, they hugged. Having his body against hers and his arms around her back, felt so good. So right.

She relished the tender moment, but knew she should pull away. They’d clung together longer than a congratulatory embrace should last. As she leaned back, he met her gaze. She knew that look. The burn of desire. And couldn’t deny she shared it.

Slowly, he bent his head. All she had to do was take a single step out of his arms. But she didn’t want to. She wanted him to kiss her. To keep the pressure of his hard body against hers and his strong arms holding her close.

And to be desired by him, even for just this moment.

Their lips met.

“Cecily,” he said softly.

His tone, his touch, made her thirst for more.

She slid her hands into his hair as the kiss deepened. Pulsing warmth spread between her legs. He’d awakened desires she’d thought long dead. As when spring brought the earth back to life, her body felt eager to flourish. But the more she cared, the more she could lose if he didn’t want more. Or if he did and some dire fate befell him.

Each let go and backed away.

Despite their differences, Cecily liked Simon too much. The rush of emotions was more intense than she wanted. How could she lessen their growing intimacy?

The warmth lingering in his gaze intrigued and confused her.

Blurb:

Their hearts are locked as tightly as his box. Can her key open them to love?

York, England 1460 – A letter containing a key leads Cecily Fayrefax to intriguing goldsmith Simon Clarke, who owns a locked box. Attraction sparks as they unite in a quest to open it.

Cecily fears caring for another man because her husband died in a tragic fire, yet finds herself drawn to Simon even as she struggles to stand her ground when they clash over disposition of the mystifying contents. Accustomed to being in charge, he needs to learn how to have a woman, and an alluring one at that, as a partner while keeping up with his business.

After danger threatens, each is more convinced of being right and remains wary of allowing desire to sway important choices. Can love show them how to agree to disagree?

Buy link or read for FREE in Kindle Unlimited: getbook.at/B082872SN3

About the author:

Ruth Kaufman is the author of four medieval romance novels, three medieval novellas and two humorous contemporary novels. Her Wars of the Roses Brides trilogy (AT HIS COMMAND, FOLLOW YOUR HEART and THE BRIDE TOURNAMENT) reached #1 historical romance on Amazon in the US, Canada and Australia. Other accolades include 2016 Booksellers’ Best Award double winner (Best Historical and Best First Book).

Ruth is also an actor with a J.D. and a Master’s in Radio/TV. Credits include independent features, short films, web series, national TV commercials and thousands of voiceovers. She presents workshops for authors and actors and is a storyteller. Learn more at http://www.ruthkaufman.com and http://www.ruthtalks.com.

Social Media links:

Website  https://ruthkaufman.com

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/ruthtalks or Ruth Kaufman Author & Actor

Twitter @RuthKaufman    https://twitter.com/RuthKaufman

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Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/ruth_kaufman

Amazon Author Page  http://www.amazon.com/Ruth-Kaufman/e/B00JH7Z40S

First Kiss Friday with Jude Knight

17 Friday Jan 2020

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Welcome to another First Kiss Friday. Today’s guest is my dear friend Jude Knight who will be sharing the first kiss scene from her upcoming novella Melting Matilda. Happy reading, my lovelies, and enjoy!

First Kiss Friday with Matilda and Charles

In this excerpt from Melting Matilda, a novella in the Bluestocking Belles’ box set Fire and Frost, the kiss is the first one in this book. They had another kiss a year before, and it haunts them. You’ll have to read the book to find out more.

Excerpt:

He had dressed with enormous care, driving his valet demented by changing his mind three times about his waistcoat, rejecting six cravats before settling on the seventh, and hesitating for twenty minutes on his choice of fobs. The valet would probably slit his wrists in despair if he could see how Charles had set his hair in disarray by running his fingers through it, and ruined the hard-won perfection of the cravat by tugging it further open because he felt it choking him.

Then the door opened. Matilda entered the room and he lost his breath again. She was magnificent in a violet gown that hugged her curves before sweeping out into a deceptively simple skirt that avoided fashionable ruffles in favor of more subtle stitching that added detail without fuss. The neckline was low enough to rivet his attention while still high enough to be demure by the current standards. She wore pearls at her neck, her wrists, dangling from her ears and glowing in her dark hair, and the blue eyes he met when he wrenched his attention from the snowy skin displayed by her décolletage had taken on a violet cast from the gown.

He gazed, losing track of time and space, until she said his name. “Charles?”

“I had a speech.” His voice croaked, and he swallowed. “I do not remember a word.”

With one hand, index finger outstretched, he traced an inch or so away from her face. “Why did I try so hard to resist you, you beautiful woman?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Her nostrils flared. “Because I am the base-born daughter of a harlot.”

“I cannot remember why I thought that important,” he confessed. “You are the beloved sister of the next Duke of Haverford, the ward of the current duchess, and a lady of impeccable education, training and manners. That is not why I love you, though.”

Her eyes softened. “You love me?”

“That was part of the speech. It is the only bit I remember. I look into your eyes, and I forget my own name.”

“Why?” Matilda asked.

“Why do I forget? No? Why now?” She colored, and he realized what she was asking. “Why do I love you? How can I explain something that has grown in my heart without my knowledge, even against my will?” He took both of her hands, and suddenly the words began to flow.

“I have been attracted to you since the first time we danced, but that is desire, and desire is a part of love but not the whole. I do desire you, my love, more and more each day, but I also admire you, I like being with you, I enjoy talking to you, I respect you. I want to see you every morning when I wake, to spend my days with you, to have the right to dance the first waltz with you at every ball, and to go home with you every night. I want to see your belly rounded with our child, and watch you as you gently teach them the way I’ve seen you teach your little sister. I want you and only you as my countess and the mother of my children. I want to grow old with you, Matilda Grenford.”

He dropped to one knee. “Miss Grenford, I esteem you with all my heart. Will you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”

He waited, his anxiety rising as she said nothing, despair taking over as tears rose and began to leak from her pansy eyes. Then she began to nod as she slipped to her own knees and reached out for him. “Yes. Oh, yes. Charles, I love you, too.”

For more than a year, Charles had kept to himself the fact that the Haverford Ice Princess kissed like a flame. As he abandoned his own granite facade for once and for all, he rejoiced in her heat. This time was even better than the last, and the best was yet to come. Though perhaps not here in a family parlor where her brother or sisters could walk in at any time.

“I hope you do not want a long betrothal,” he whispered, between kisses.

She broke off her attempt to completely unravel his cravat. “Not long,” she agreed.

Her fervent answer demanded that he kiss her again, losing himself so deep he didn’t know they were no longer alone until a voice behind him said, “I trust you are betrothed to my sister, Hamner, for it would be most inconvenient to start the evening’s celebrations by killing you.”

Melting Matilda

Her scandalous birth prevents Matilda Grenford from being fully acceptable to Society, even though she has been a ward of the Duchess of Haverford since she was a few weeks old. Matilda does not expect to be wooed by a worthy gentleman. The only man who has ever interested her gave her an outrageous kiss a year ago and has avoided her ever since.

Charles, the Earl of Hamner is honour bound to ignore his attraction to Matilda Grenford. She is an innocent and a lady, and in every way worthy of his respect—but she is base-born. His ancestors would rise screaming from their graves if he made her his countess. But he cannot forget the kiss they once shared.

For more about Fire & Frost, including preorder links, see: https://bluestockingbelles.net/belles-joint-projects/fire-frost/

About Jude Knight

Have you ever wanted something so much you were afraid to even try? That was Jude ten years ago.

For as long as she can remember, she’s wanted to be a novelist. She even started dozens of stories, over the years.

But life kept getting in the way. A seriously ill child who required years of therapy; a rising mortgage that led to a full-time job; six children, her own chronic illness… the writing took a back seat.

As the years passed, the fear grew. If she didn’t put her stories out there in the market, she wouldn’t risk making a fool of herself. She could keep the dream alive if she never put it to the test.

Then her mother died. That great lady had waited her whole life to read a novel of Jude’s, and now it would never happen.

So Jude faced her fear and changed it–told everyone she knew she was writing a novel. Now she’d make a fool of herself for certain if she didn’t finish.

Her first book came out to excellent reviews in December 2014, and the rest is history. Many books, lots of positive reviews, and a few awards later, she plans to keep publishing until she runs out of years.

Website and blog: http://judeknightauthor.com/

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