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First Kiss Friday with Deb Marlowe

26 Friday May 2023

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It’s Friday so that must mean you’ve found my First Kiss Friday blog. Please welcome my guest Deb Marlowe who is sharing with you that all important first kiss scene from Death from the Druid’s Grove. Didn’t Dragonblade Publishing do a fabulous job with this cover? It’s just stunning! Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

He climbed down and turned to assist her.  The bracing night air prodded her awake, although she gave a great yawn that left him smiling.

She squeezed his hand.  The carriage moved on, heading for the stables.  They stood alone in the dark, with the sky full of the sparkling beauty of a multitude of stars and his heart full of conflicting emotions.

“Thank you, Niall.”

It was thanks offered for more than his help out of the carriage.  He heard the breadth of her meaning in her tone.

He smiled in answer, returned the squeeze and let her go.

With a sigh, she began to move toward the house.  He watched her for a moment, before turning toward his forge and the loft above.

The sound of her footsteps in the gravel stopped.

“Niall?”

He turned around.  She faced him, her hair coming down a little on one side and wafting in the night breeze.  He drank in the beauty of her.  She was a mad combination of exuberance, stubborn determination, extraordinary vision and the lovely sweetness of her soul.  It almost hurt to look at her.

And suddenly, she was moving.  Lifting her skirts and racing toward him.  As she drew closer, she let go and reached out—and leapt into his arms.  

He caught her.  Staggered back a step.  And her lips were on his and he was lost.

Her fingers were in his hair.  Her legs wrapped around his waist.  He braced one hand across her back to hold her close and the other beneath the curve of her bottom, to keep her, high and hot and pressed against him, with her mouth locked to his.

She’d gone soft and pliant.  Need sprang to heated life in his chest and he felt the answering sensation in her.  Together, their longings rose and combined, whirling between them, spiraling higher and fueling the fervent, dangerous beauty of their kiss.

She was inexperienced.  He showed her subtly, delicately, how it was done.  An enthusiastic pupil, she let him coax her mouth open.  Their embrace deepened, transforming this encounter into something more demanding and desperate.  Something that fought and railed against the cold knowledge of its fleeting nature.

She moaned, a low sound of aching want, and he clutched her closer still, wishing he could pull her right inside, so that this might never end.

But end, it did.  She pulled away and looked down at him, her face filled with sorrow.  Slowly, he let her drop, felt the forbidden slide of her down the front of him.  But he could not let go, not yet.  He bent his head so that their lips hovered close.

“I wanted to know,” she whispered.  “When you are long gone and I am lying awake, making myself miserable with what might have been, I want to know exactly what I will be missing.”  She ducked her head, pressing against his chest and gripping him tightly for a moment, before looking back up, her expression gone stern.  “Perhaps I wanted you to know, too.”

Death from the Druid’s Grove
By Deb Marlowe

Secrets hide in the Druid’s Grove, in a murderer’s heart, and in Niall Kier’s past . .

October 1851. After millions of visitors and months of success, the Great Exhibition is winding down. Mr. Niall Kier and Miss Kara Levett are busy with the celebrations planned for the last weeks—and with all the commissions their involvement has brought them. Their artistic works stall, though, when the closing ceremonies are interrupted by a murder.

Suddenly, a friend is under suspicion and the murder has been linked to the Druid’s Grove, the secret society in which Niall is a member and Kara has just been inducted. They dive in, hoping to quickly clear their ally’s name, except nothing is simple in the Grove and no one is exactly who they seem to be.

Niall and Kara put their talents and resources to work once more, but they find that old, sinister secrets might be behind the present-day bloodshed.

And as they investigate, it appears someone might also be digging about in Niall’s mysterious past. 

The Kier and Levett Mystery series
Book 1 – A Killer in the Crystal Palace
Book 2 – Death from the Druid’s Grove
Book 3 – Murder on the Mirrored Lake

Buy Links:

Amazon https://amzn.to/3SAjk6L
Barnes and Noble https://bit.ly/DruidsGroveBN
Kobo https://bit.ly/DruidsGroveKOBO
Apple https://bit.ly/DruidsGroveAPPLE

If you love a print book in your hand, order from

Amazon https://amzn.to/3KwiKn7
or
Barnes & Noble! http://bit.ly/3MFF6Ff

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling author Deb Marlowe grew up with her nose in a book. Luckily, she’d read enough romances to recognize the hero she met at a college Halloween party – even though he wore a tuxedo t-shirt instead of breeches and boots. They married, settled in North Carolina and raised two handsome, funny and genuinely intelligent boys. A Golden Heart winner and Rita nominee, Deb writes Regency Romance and Victorian Mysteries.. A proud geek, history buff and story addict, she loves to talk with readers! Find her discussing books, movies, TV, recipes and her infamous Men in Boots on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest. Find out Behind the Book details and interesting historical tidbits at deb@debmarlowe.com

Follow me on my FB author page at https://www.facebook.com/DebMarloweAuthorPage
Or Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/debmarlowewrites/

First Kiss Friday with Emily Royal

19 Friday May 2023

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Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog. Let’s welcome my guest Emily Royal who has an excerpt from her novel Tomboy of the Ton. I love this cover and I’m certain what’s inside is a fabulous read! We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene. Happy reading, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

“You are not to come to my house again,” he said. “I don’t want Mother further distressed. As for my cousin Beatrice, I’ll not have her tainted by your influence.”

“Tainted?” Henrietta asked.

“Aye,” he said. “Beatrice is due to be presented at court, and as such, she must be schooled in the manner befitting her station. Grubbing around in the dirt with the local urchin is hardly a fitting education for a young woman of her sensibilities.”

The arrow, shaped by his words, hit home. Orphaned she may be, but this Beatrice, who Lord Thorpe clearly deemed the epitome of ladylike perfection, did not sound like the sort of creature Henrietta would want as a friend. In fact, she was determined to hate her.

“Better an urchin who grubs around in the dirt than a pompous ass who treats the world with contempt,” she said.

“You’re hardly a paragon,” he replied. “You’re either wallowing in the mud, diving into the lake, or shinning up trees like some godforsaken guttersnipe. It’s most unladylike for a young woman your age. What sort of a man is your father, to let you run wild like this? You ought to be thrashed. I should drag you to your father and insist he does it himself.”

“Then why don’t you!” she cried. “Why not destroy me like you’ve destroyed your mother?”

“You little hellcat!” he cried. “I ought to throw you off my land.”

“Try it,” she challenged, “if you’re man enough.”

She raised her fist, and he caught her wrist and pulled her hard against him. She struggled in his grip, but he held her firm, while she grasped his arms and strained to pull free. Panting, she tilted her head back and met his gaze. Their bodies pressed against each other, the faint rhythm of his heartbeat pulsing against her chest.

Then, a flare of passion ignited in the depths of his eyes, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

At first, she resisted, then she clutched at his sleeve, while his warm lips slid over hers. The tip of his tongue stroked the seam of her mouth—at first gently, then, with more insistence, almost desperation, as if he were a man dying of thirst.

With a sigh, she granted him entrance, and he slipped his tongue between her lips, stroking the inside of her mouth, claiming every inch of her, marking her as his.

And she was his. Her body thrummed with life, and a wave of passion rose deep within her. Strong, dominant hands held her firm as if invisible chains bound her to him.

Then he hesitated, uncertainty in his expression. The wave receded, and a little mewl of frustration escaped her. Clutching his sleeve, she pulled him closer and curled her tongue round his.

What the devil was she doing?

She stiffened in his arms and pulled free. He released his hold and stepped back, the passion in his eyes no more than dying embers. Passion she had longed to see.

Then the passion turned to regret and disgust.

“Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have done that—not with you, of all women.”

Her gut twisted in shame. Did he find her so repulsive?

She lifted her hand to strike him, but he caught her wrist.

“You’ll have to be quicker than that, Miss Hellcat, if you’re to best me.”

Hellcat, was it?

Anger flared at the arrogance of his tone, and she struck him, clawing at his face.

“Ouch—you little ruffian!” he cried, releasing her. “I’ll thrash you myself!”

Before he could catch her, she lifted her skirts and set off at a sprint, while his curses echoed across the lawn. She didn’t stop running until she reached home.

Tomboy of the Ton
By Emily Royal

A thorn in his side, or the woman of his dreams?

Henrietta Redford wishes she were a boy—after all, boys are masters of their own fate. Casting her dolls aside, she climbs trees, plays at swordfighting, and indulges in practical jokes.

Once she’s had her come-out, Henrietta has promised her father that she’ll settle down and marry. Any eligible man might do, but it certainly won’t be Giles Thorpe—the older boy from the estate next door, whose arrogant disdain of her tomboyish ways only increased as he grew into a man.

Until they share a passionate kiss…

After inheriting an earldom when his profligate father died, Giles understands the dangers of irresponsibility. The infuriating tomboy next door is the epitome of recklessness and the last woman he should associate with—no matter how fast his heart beats at the sight of her delectable form.

When scandal threatens to ruin the Thorpe family name, Henrietta, unbeknown to Giles, is his best hope for salvation. But Henrietta will have to sacrifice everything—including the man she’s grown to love.

Buy Link (Amazon/KU): https://mybook.to/TomboyOfTheTon

Author Bio:

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Emily Royal is a mathematics geek who grew up in Sussex, England and has always had a passion for romance and hot alpha males in need of redemption. After graduating from Oxford and enjoying a brief dream of becoming an airline pilot she started a career in financial services to indulge her love of mathematics. She now lives in rural Scotland with her husband, two daughters and menagerie of pets including Twinkle, an attention-seeking boa constrictor.

When not working on algebra, writing or keeping Twinkle from slithering over the keyboard, Emily enjoys painting, baking, playing the piano, and can often be found wandering in the Highlands of Scotland looking for inspiration.

Links:

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

Amazon author link: https://www.amazon.com/Emily-Royal/e/B07NCBKJZ4

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/emily-royal

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14834886.Emily_Royal

Website: http://www.emroyal.com/

Newsletter sign-up: https://subscribepage.io/RKBvRE

First Kiss Friday with Shana Galen

12 Friday May 2023

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Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog. I’m so happy you’re here with us today. My guest is author Shana Galen who has an excerpt from her novel Saved by the Belle, book three in her The Royal Saboteurs series. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene. Happy reading, my lovelies, and enjoy!

Excerpt:

“Mr. Arundel,” Belle said, making a last attempt to rouse him from whatever dream his fevered mind had conjured. “You must release me.” Her voice was low and husky, and she did not even recognize it as hers. He didn’t release her, and she hardly blamed him. She didn’t sound at all like a woman who wanted to be set free.

Then to her surprise, he did release one wrist. Before she could pull back, though, he reached for her waist, his hot hand all but searing her through the thin fabric of her shift. With a gentle pressure, he pulled her closer, so close she could smell the scent of tea on his breath.

“Belle,” he murmured. His use of her name shocked her enough, but then his hand slid from her waist up her ribs to cup her small breast through the thin linen of the shift. She gasped, and he took that opportunity to catch her lower lip between his teeth.

The bite was gentle, not even a bite at all, just a tug to keep her mouth near his. It worked. Belle froze, and then she did something she never thought she would do. When Arundel released her lip and opened the hand on her breast, clearly giving her the option to refuse him, Belle leaned closer and pressed her lips to his. She didn’t know why she did it. Perhaps because her unsated desire finally got the best of her. Perhaps because though Arundel was fevered and clearly not in his right mind, he was a handsome man who made her head spin. Perhaps because she was a spinster and didn’t want to cross into becoming a thornback—the term society liked to use to refer to women approaching thirty—without kissing at least one man who truly desired her.

She hadn’t considered he would kiss her back. She pressed her lips to his, unsure what to do next, and then shocked when his mouth moved beneath hers. He returned her slight pressure and gave it back to her, moving his lips to brush them along hers. At the same time, his hand returned to her breast, his thumb finding her nipple, hard now and straining, and caressed it with that same lazy stroke.

Belle felt as though she might combust from the heat engulfing her now. Every part of her was too hot. No wonder people disrobed when they went to bed together. She was unbearably warm and undeniably aware of the tingling between her legs. She wanted to press her hand there, to ease that tension.

Saved by the Belle
The Royal Saboteurs (Book Three)
By Shana Galen

After successfully completing his first mission as a Royal Saboteur, Hew Arundel is in London on holiday. But his entertainments are cut short when he’s attacked in the street. When he wakes, he’s not only in pain but in an unfamiliar setting. He might be half-delirious, but he’s not imagining the smart-mouthed woman charged with his care. Belle isn’t a skilled nurse, but she’s smart and fearless, and Hew finds those two qualities irresistible. And dangerous. Hew’s heart has been damaged before, and he swore never again to allow a woman to breach his defenses. Belle doesn’t seem interested in him anyway…until they share a forbidden kiss.

Belle Howard was born with a specialized palate. She knows exquisite tea by scent and taste and has used that talent to turn her family’s business, Howard’s Teas & Treats, into one of the premiere tea shops in London. When circumstances force Belle and her father to care for an injured man, they aren’t sure the man will survive. They certainly don’t expect his would-be assassins to wreak havoc on their lives. Now Belle is caught up in a dangerous mission and even more treacherous is the way Hew Arundel makes Belle feel whenever he looks at her. But Belle has learned not to trust men. If only she could remember that when Hew takes her in his arms.

Buy Links:

Amz: https://amzn.to/3htXi7b

BN: http://bit.ly/3ULsRaW

iTunes: http://bit.ly/3WJwro9

Kobo: http://bit.ly/3X1uUdh

Print: https://amzn.to/3ZJefLZ

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/b5ja1R

About the Author:

Shana Galen is an award-winning writer and the bestselling author of passionate Regency romps. Kirkus said of her books: “The road to happily-ever-after is intense, conflicted, suspenseful and fun.” RT Bookreviews described her writing as “lighthearted yet poignant, humorous yet touching.” She taught English at the middle and high school level for eleven years. Most of those years were spent working in Houston’s inner city. Now she writes full time, surrounded by four cats and one spoiled dog. She’s happily married and has a daughter who is most definitely a romance heroine in the making.

Website: shanagalen.com

Facebook: www.Facebook.com/ShanaGalen

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/93709.Shana_Galen

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/shana-galen

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

TikTok: @shanagalen

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/shanagalen

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@shanagalenauthor

Twitter: @shanagalen

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

First Kiss Friday with Peri Maxwell

05 Friday May 2023

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Welcome to another week on my First Kiss Friday blog. I’m so happy you’ve stopped by. Today’s guest is Peri Maxwell who has an excerpt from her book His Spirited Lady . Isn’t the cover just lovely? We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene. Happy reading, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

“As much as I like watching you work, we must go.”  His hand was gentle, as were his words, but his profile was stern. 

Now that Amelia was here, she didn’t want to leave. “I don’t agree with much Miss Allen says, but I have to confess she and I share an opinion about the pomade in your hair.” 

“You two have discussed my hair?” She didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. 

“Not discussed, exactly. She mentioned how dashing you’d appeared with your wild hair tossed by the winds in the Channel.” The comment had made Amelia recall her first encounter with Richard. “And I have to agree. You look much more yourself when your hair is curly.” 

“I see.” His thumb stroked the top of her knuckles, sending sparks up through her wrist with every bump. “What else has she spoken of?” 

“She never fails to goad me about having kissed you, which is as inappropriate as it is irritating.”

“Irritating?” His rumbly voice was as warm as his fingers curving around hers. 

On one vacation, in Calais, she and her parents had been forced to stop at a posting inn to avoid the rain. As it had been a downpour, they’d chosen staying dry over being fashionable. The fire was warm and the food was tasty, even if the crowd was more working class. Amelia had enjoyed watching everyone, until two women had begun squabbling over the same man. Harsh words had quickly escalated to slaps and hair-pulling. Father had whisked her out before anything else had happened, and he’d refused to explain what had happened. All he’d said was that one day she’d understand. 

Amelia desperately wanted to pull Fiona Allen’s hair. 

“It is very boring to sit, smile, and drink tea. All I can do is nod and say ‘Yes, he is quite dashing. Of course I was totally swept away. Certainly he takes my breath every time—’”

“I see your point,” Richard said. “Why not try using that magnificent imagination of yours? Take a kiss you’ve had and plop me in the proper spot.” 

“Oh, I don’t think that would work at all.” She could almost hear his eyebrows rise. “It wasn’t an encounter where you’d want to be plopped.” 

“An encounter?” He faced her. “You said you were familiar with kissing.” 

“Well, I am familiar with it, and since he almost chipped my tooth, it was memorable.”

Richard’s dry laugh teased her ears even as his boot slid along hers, as though he was searching for firm footing on a dark path. “I agree. I don’t want to be plopped into that scenario.” 

 His features were visible now. His lashes low over his eyes, his lips curved in a half smile. His fingers slid up her neck and under her hair. His nose brushed her brow as his breath coaxed her eyes closed, leaving her to feel his slow trek to her mouth. His nose brushing hers, his lips sweeping from her ear down her cheek. By the time he reached her lips, she was trembling. 

It was a sweet pressure, encouraging her to shape her mouth to his, to cling to it until he pulled away. His fingers stroked the curve of her neck. 

“Breathe, chéri.” 

When Amelia obeyed, he returned to her mouth and swept his tongue over her lips in a wet plea that she answered. 

Richard’s groan rumbled over her teeth as his tongue slid against hers. He tasted of wine and whiskey and of something darker that urged her to do the same as he. She tangled her tongue with his, tested the firmness of his lips, felt him smile. 

“Ahem.” The deep cough came from neither of them. 

Richard stopped kissing her but kept her shielded from the lantern light in the room. His eyes stayed on hers as he spoke. “Fletcher?”  

“Yes. You two are out of time.” He left the lantern as he closed the door. 

Richard dragged his hands from her and backed away, kissing her knuckles as he lifted each hand from his coat. 

Amelia wanted nothing more than to put out the lantern and return to the dark, to the circle of his arms. “No wonder Fiona—” 

He stopped her words with a quick, hard kiss. “No. That belongs to us alone.” He kept one hand, twined their fingers together. “I need to get you home.” 

His Spirited Lady
By Peri Maxwell

Mix two fake lovers, age over a disastrous house party, distill the romance; and savor the happily ever after.

Richard Ferrand arrives in Thetford to visit his family and to seek advice on a recent inheritance. He’s expecting it to be a brief visit. His former brother-in-law has a new family, and Richard is eager to return to his familiar bachelor businessman routine. That all changes when he comes to the rescue of a young lady with plans of her own.

Amelia Chitester has spent her life being the perfect society Miss—at least when people are watching. When they’re not, she’s busy creating the county’s best whiskey. That all changes when her gravely ill father insists she marry so that she will have a protector after he dies.

When Richard helps Amelia avoid a persistent suitor, she sees an answer to several of her problems. He needs a British distributor for his newly acquired French wine, and she needs a fake fiancé to take her off the marriage market. Richard thinks she’s daft—irresistibly beautiful, totally disarming, and completely daft–but he agrees to help because he admires her commitment to her family and her home.

As they work to fool their families and the entire village, it grows difficult to live out their lie. Amelia didn’t figure on the soft side of her convenient rake, and Richard wasn’t prepared for the stubborn charm of his fake conquest.

Soon they’re both faced with the choice of keeping their businesses or losing their hearts.

Buy Links

Amazon: https://a.co/d/0OabOFR

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/his-spirited-lady-peri-maxwell/1143350454?ean=9781960184696

Author bio 

Peri Maxwell has lost herself in reading romances all her life. She began writing as a challenge to herself and wrote her first historical romance on a dare, and now, she’s hooked. She prefers to write heroines who can stand toe-to-toe with a hero, challenge society’s rules for good reasons, and find love with heroes who admire an equal (even if it’s a little reluctantly).

She enjoys history, humor, and a good mystery. An armchair historian, she also has a background in women’s studies.

Peri lives in Arkansas with her husband and the two cats who rescued them. When she’s not writing or reading, she’s working her day job or spending time with her family and friends (the same ones who dared her to write a historical romance).

Social links: 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22406672.Peri_Maxwell

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

First Kiss Friday with Cerise DeLand

21 Friday Apr 2023

Posted by in 2023, First Kiss Friday

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Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog. Today’s guest is my dear friend and fellow Bluestocking Belle Cerise DeLand who has a new release with Dragonblade Publishing. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene from If I Loved You. Isn’t this cover just beautiful? Happy reading, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

Miles had not known her for more than a few hours, but he’d seen her shock over such a sizable bequest. Certainly he could revel in the good fortune of anyone. But if she had suspicions about who had given her such a large inheritance and did not wish to discuss it with him, he could understand that, too. But her new-found gain, enough to support her at current standards in meager means for her lifetime, could lead her to break their agreement to marry. The possibility of losing her created an ache in his heart. A place he’d never expected to feel anything at all ever again.

As they entered the Grosvenor Gate and passed the park wall, she strode more slowly and breathed more deeply. They took a turn on the path south and one glance at her told him she was more at ease.

“I hate to spoil your enjoyment,” he said, “but I think we should not walk here much longer. The shadows grow deeper.”

“You are right, of course.” She had her hands in her coat pockets as she stopped and spun toward him. “You have been very good to me today.”

He raised a hand, his smile wry. “No more gratitude, please. I am quite thanked.”

She stopped, faced him and tipped her head, suddenly the coquette, though to him, she did not seem to have planned the spontaneity of such an attitude. She was without guile—and he valued that unexpected characteristic more than he could ever have imagined.

“You are a darling man,” she said with an honesty that emphasized her simplicity and lack of artifice.

“You are kind to think so.” He remembered a few instances when the moniker he deserved was the opposite. Savage. Insane. Gullible. All came to mind in a rush of bile.

She put her hands to his and held tightly. “Do you still want to marry a woman you barely know?”

“I’d like to marry you, if you’ll have me.”

She shook her head as if the whole idea were impossible. “Why? Why?”

“I want a wife. A friend. I am lonely. You seem a gentle soul. I think we would do well together.”

“I cannot imagine that you have not met a thousand young ladies you know better than me who would not make you a friend and wife because they do know you better.”

But they knew his past, too. His wife. “I would never find happiness with any I’ve met. They see me as the mill owner, a cit with a new title, an upstart viscount, too rich for his title. They also see me as a widower.” Not knowing I am more aggrieved than grieving.

She stood immobile, only her large eyes searching his for what he would not reveal. “Did you love her?”

“When I married her, yes.”

“And do you miss her?”

“No.”

She nodded. “I see. Then your loneliness comes not from her lack.”

“No. It does not.”

She gulped. “Do you want children?”

He blinked and peered up at the deep blue clouds scudding across a darker moonlit sky. “I have not wished for that in many years. But now,” he said as he met her frank gaze, “I believe I would.”

She smiled as if he’d just given her the keys to the kingdom. “I would, too.”

He stepped closer to her, dropped her hands and cupped her shoulders. Her luscious curves fit into the planes of his suddenly very needy self. “Might we proceed to getting them?”

She arched her neck and let her eyes dance into his. “First we must be wed.”

“Will day after tomorrow do?”

“Quite well,” she said on a delighted laugh. “And then we must become better friends.”

He sent his fingers up into the heavy coil of hair at her nape. Her skin was as soft as charmeuse and her hair smelled of lavender. She’d been in his arms often today and her need had been great. Now, he would test to see if she might come for a new and startling reason. Might she come because she could want him? Want him as a man? As her lover?

She pulled back a little, a question on her plump lips. “Friends kiss.”

“They do,” he said with a smile that grew from a friend’s to a ravenous man’s. “Shall we?”

She studied his mouth and swallowed hard. “Oh, yes. From the moment I heard your voice on the Great North Road, I have wanted to know how you taste.”

“Well, then,” he said as he loomed over her lips, “we must not delay.”

 She circled her arms around his shoulders and pushed up on her toes. “Please don’t.”

The temptation to take her with all the ardor he bore her raged through him. He could not devour her like a satyr. He was a man who had foresworn passion and love. A man of reason and temperance. But then…

She put her lips to his, a brush of warm temptation. The sensation of her desire met the one of his quest as if two stars collided in the dark of night. Blinded by it, he groaned and caught her up. Her mouth was lush, and as his tongue invaded, he knew how hot her body was. How sweet. He swept the inside of her mouth and felt her complete surrender. This was what he’d craved. A woman who might love him.

He pulled away, breathless, cupping her cheek. “Darling, we must stop.”

In the shadows of the soft spring evening, she tipped her head and smiled at him. “You’ll kiss me again?”

“As often as you wish.”

There again was that sweet woman who drew him to her with the artless look of enchantment. “Must I tell you each time?”

“No,” he said on a laugh and hugged her close, then set her from him. “Only look at me like that, my darling, and I am yours.” “As I am forever yours,” she said and put her arm in his to turn and walk home.

If I Loved You
By Cerise DeLand

MATRIMONY! #1. IF I LOVED YOU
Love does not advertise. Love counts no wrongs.
But when a young woman needs to escape an ogre, she’ll take an ad to find a man she can adore.
Verity Carr wants a new life in a new town far from her old home—and the vile threat to her body and soul. She comes from a fine family, has a good education and a bold ambition to become a portrait artist. She’s ready to live her life with a man who will value her. A husband she can can respect—and in time, hopefully love. Yet valiant though she is, she questions if she can escape her past and the one who will not let her go.

Can a gentleman to whom great wrong was done, build a new life with a true wife and leave the past behind?
Miles St.John Armstrong never should have wed his first wife. He vows to select a new one with logic and careful investigation—via advertisement. The young lady he selects is Verity Carr who is no ordinary woman. She has charm, wit and a beauty that sears his soul. No wonder theirs is a relationship built quickly on admiration and trust. No wonder their marriage becomes one built of mutual mad passion.

But devoted as they are, their past comes to call.
And it asks of them the ultimate question: Can their love withstand the tempest and survive the terror?

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About the author:

Hi! I’m Cerise DeLand and I believe love is the force of all good in our lives. Romance is the beginning of strong love affairs, inspiring and delightful to encounter and to read!

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First Kiss Friday with A Knight To Call My Own

14 Friday Apr 2023

Posted by in 2023, First Kiss Friday

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Thank goodness and Friday and that means you’ve found my First Kiss Friday blog! Welcome and I hope you enjoy this next scene from my medieval romance A Knight to Call My Own. If you missed it, I’ve been giving excerpts for the past several weeks on my Medieval Monday blog. If you’d like to catch up, the link can be found below to this past weeks scene. Today, I’m continuing on with a battle of wills between Lynet and Ian. It’s a big scene and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy reading, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

Lynet stood in silence as she watched the turret door shut with a resounding slam. She made the blunder of looking up into Ian’s stormy face once they were alone. His visage was furious with possibly a hint of jealousy hidden in the depths of his eyes. ’Twas hard to tell what the man was pondering inside his head, but she knew she would not have to wait long afore he spoke his mind. When he did, it caused her to inwardly cringe.

“You will not meet with him by yourself again, Lynet.” He enunciated each word with clenched teeth, giving confirmation to the anger he was holding in check. “Do I make myself clear?”

Her own rage exploded to the surface like blinding, white-hot lightning. “Who do you think you are that you assume you can just order me about and tell me what to do?” Courage to stand up for herself raced through Lynet, for she would not let him see how he affected her so. Her reckless and traitorous heart skipped a beat with his nearness. Damn the man’s soul to hell. How she hated him!

“I will tell you who I am, lass. I am the man you will forever bow down to and call husband come the end of these games,” he roared ferociously, like a wounded animal.

“I will neither bow down to you, nor any other man, you worthless cur,” she shouted right back at him.

Ian grabbed her arms, giving her a shake ’til she felt her teeth rattle. “You will submit to me, you stubborn woman. Do you not even realize when you have met your match?”

She lifted her head at him with narrowed eyes. “Aye, as a matter of fact, I do, for he just left with my brother!”

“He is only the captain of your guard, Lynet. He has no right to lay claim to you as his future bride,” Ian retorted hotly, “nor to steal your kisses in the moonlight.”

“That did not stop you from loving my sister when the same held true of your position. What makes you think you are a better man than Rolf to hold my affection, or that you can do a finer job of kissing me? I enjoyed his lips on mine and will kiss him anytime I should choose to do so,” she snickered, tossing him a defiant glare that all too quickly fell from her features. With one glance upon him, she might as well have slapped his face, considering the look he gave her. She knew she had pushed him too far.

He said not another word, but made fast work of guiding her down from the lofty parapet walkway. Her slippered feet barely touched the coldness of the stones beneath her, so rapid was their hasty decent down the turret stairs. When they came to the portal of her chamber, Ian backed her up against the solid wood with his arms resting on either side of her, as he had done but recently. There was no escaping him.

They stood, just the two of them, listening to the crackling sound of the lit torches in the passageway. Far more troubling to her way of thinking was her heaving chest as she attempted to gain her breath. She could no longer stand her submissive stance of looking down at her feet, so she raised her eyes to meet his.

When would she stop making such stupid decisions as actually looking at the man, not that she had anywhere else to gaze, given his close proximity. The firelight from the torches in the wall sconces brought out the red of his hair. She would have sighed at the sight of it, but would not give him the gratification. His heavy lidded, hazel eyes took on a light of their own and seemed to search into her very soul. She gulped and watched a gleam enter those knowing orbs whilst a discerning grin formed on his mouth. A mouth that was rapidly closing the distance between them!

“Do not dare─”

Her words were cut off as his mouth quickly took possession of her own, for possess her he did, with just the slightest first brush of his lips. She gasped when a turbulent wave of searing heat radiated throughout her entire body. But, such a profound encounter only allowed him to further plunder her senses as his tongue began to frolic with her own. Sweet Jesus, what in the world is he doing to me?

She felt his hands cup her face ’til he tilted her head, allowing him better access to her mouth. An unexpected moan escaped her. ’Twas, apparently, what he had wanted to hear from her. The sound surely only confirmed his own damn suspicions that she had told a lie when speaking of the effect of Rolf’s kiss. She was certain such a revelation pleased him.

His hands began a slow descent as they roamed down her back ’til he cupped her bottom, bringing her up hard against his solid frame. She quaked in response to such intimacy between them. Her shock did not stop his arm from winding around her waist, keeping her firmly in place as he continued to devour her last shreds of reality. The disbelief of feeling his firmly muscled body pressed up against her own sent any sense of prudence to remain indifferent to him fleeing from her mind. How could one keep a hold on any form of rationality when all she could suddenly feel was the unmistakable form of his manhood pressed intimately against her?

She was lost, and she unexpectedly cared not. Nay… all she could recognize in her feeble attempts to remain level headed was the fact that any control of the situation she may have had up to this point had vanished as soon as Ian had kissed her. Her arms made their way up and around his neck to playfully finger his shoulder length hair. She mimicked what he was doing to her mouth, letting him teach her what he liked. She must have done something right, for she heard his own groan of pleasure whilst he tightened his grip upon her.

Was it just her imagination, or did her body seem to mold itself to his own, as if they had been made for one another, even whilst his hands roamed freely over her backside? And yet, she did not complain, or even make the slightest protest. This was how it felt to finally be in his arms. She had dreamed of this moment for so long, she was almost waiting for someone to come and wake her, for surely she must be dreaming. She reached out and clasped the nape of Ian’s neck as she urged him onward in this journey he was taking her on. ’Twas sheer bliss… bliss ’til she felt herself being rudely yanked from his embrace.

Lynet gazed around with passion filled eyes to see who had interrupted them, but there was no one near, except the man who had proved his point that Rolf was not the knight for her. Aye! The deliberate burning glare in those obnoxious hazel eyes told her he knew exactly what he had done to her, and he was glad for it, the bastard.

Ian leaned down from his towering height so they came almost nose to nose. “Lesson number one, Lynet, is never lie to me again. Rolf is a good man, but he will never be able to make you feel the way I can. I will be victorious at the end of the games, and you will be my wife. You… are… mine.”

He gave her but an instant for the words he proclaimed to register in her brain, which surely had been turned to mush. Before she could even mange to form some limited response that would most likely be garbled jibber-jabber, Ian gave her a quick kiss upon her already tender lips, opened her door, and gave her a gentle push through the portal. Once she was inside, Ian closed the door behind her.

Feeling completely numb, with her feelings a jumbled mess, Lynet could go no further into her chamber. Instead, she leaned back against the wooden door, trying to somehow control and still her racing heart. It took every bit of effort she had left in her just to turn her body and lift her arm in order to slide the bolt into place. Her ear pressed to the door, she listened intently for signs of Ian’s departure. She held her breath with the knowledge he, too, lingered just on the other side with only an obnoxious piece of wood now separating them. She heard it then… the unmistakable sound of his footsteps receding down the corridor to seek his own slumber.

With his departure, her breath left her in a swift rush afore her trembling legs crumbled beneath her. Sliding helplessly to the floor, her hands shook as she fingered her sensitive lips. Aye, she had indeed been most thoroughly kissed, and by one who knew, inevitability, she had enjoyed every instant of their encounter. Surely he had branded her as his own with the scorching warmth of his touch. She may as well call Father Donovan and get their marriage over and done with. May God above help her and give her strength for what was to come with that insufferable man she so wanted to hate.

Hate him or love him… she was not sure which she wanted to believe more. Either one was just as bad. For what truly mattered where her heart was concerned, was that Lynet recognized she was in big trouble.

A Knight To Call My Own
By Sherry Ewing

When your heart is broken, is love still worth the risk?

Lynet of clan MacLaren knows how it feels to love someone and not have that love returned. After waiting for six long years, she has given up hope of Ian’s return. Her brother-in-law, the Devil’s Dragon of Berwyck, is tired of waiting for her to choose a husband and has decided a competition for the right to wed Lynet is just the thing his willful charge needs to force her hand.

Ian MacGillivray has returned to Berwyck Castle in search of a bride and who better than the young girl who cared for him all those years ago. But Lynet is anything but an easy conquest and he will need more than charm to win her hand in marriage.

From the English borders to the Highlands of Scotland, the chase is on for who will claim the fair Lynet. The price paid will indeed be high to ensure her safety and even higher to win her love.

Buy Links ~ Available in eBook and  paperback 

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Available on audiobook:

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To read this week’s excerpt from my Medieval Monday blog in case you missed it, you can find it here: https://sherryewing.com/2023/04/10/medieval-monday-with-a-knight-to-call-my-own-2/

About Sherry Ewing:

Sherry Ewing picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. An award-winning and bestselling author, she writes historical and time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. When not writing, she can be found in the San Francisco area at her day job as an Information Technology Specialist. Learn more about me and my books on the tabs above or follow me on these social media links!

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First Kiss Friday with Hope Caroll & a Giveaway!

07 Friday Apr 2023

Posted by in 2023, First Kiss Friday

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Welcome to my First Kiss Friday blog. Today I have another fabulous Dragonblade Publishing author as my guest. Please welcome Hope Caroll who is also offering a giveaway of her book The Veil Between Worlds. Be sure to read all the way to the end to see how to enter. We hope you enjoy this first kiss scene, my lovelies! Take it away, Hope.

Author’s Note: At this point in the book, our heroine, Ellie Hartford, has been sent back in time by her ex-boyfriend, John Stafford. They have arrived at Windsor Castle, where Edward III is holding a tournament for knights to compete in order to find new knights for his chivalric order.  Ellie is desperate to get back to her two small daughters in the modern world, and Harry, who also got sent back in time with Ellie, has been helping to keep her safe. After an arduous journey to Windsor, Ellie is profoundly happy to find a luxurious bath waiting for her.

Excerpt:

A length of linen laid across the foot of the bath, and because the room was chilly, I draped it further across the length of the bath to keep the heat in, so that just my head poked out, and my legs dangled over the end.

“Lady Hartford, may I come in?” It was Harry, coming from the adjoining door.

Before I had a chance to say much more than “Harry, wait!” he walked through.

“Wow,” he said, taking me as much as he could in all my silhouetted nakedness. “I guess I should have waited longer for an answer, but I can’t say I’m sorry.”

“Uh, Harry, a little privacy here, please?” I slid deeper under the water, trying to tweak the linen over me with one hand.

He didn’t turn around to leave.

“Please,” he protested, “don’t make me go. You’re covered up there, and we need to talk. Where’s Mary?”

“She’s just gone to fetch me some wine. She thinks I’m too pale.” I didn’t feel pale any longer. My cheeks flushed red with the way Harry was looking at me. Was this linen see-through, or was he just using his imagination? “Mary might catch you in the room when I’m in the bath,” I whispered.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he said. He briefly took his eyes off me, and found a stool to sit on, right at the end of my tub where my legs were. He confidently took one of my feet between his hands, and started giving me a foot massage.

I could not help groaning with pleasure. Harry’s warm hands felt so good on my skin. He used his thumbs to run up the length of my sole, and back down to my heel. Each toe got individual attention as well.

My eyes closed. “You really know how to treat a woman’s feet,” I said.

“Some say I know what to do with the other parts of a woman as well,” he murmured. I half opened one eye to acknowledge the tease, but before I could toss out a comment, he continued, “Oh dear, are these blisters?”

“Um hm. The stirrups must have rubbed my feet the wrong way. But we have no bandaids, or plasters as you call them.”

“I know what bandaids are, you don’t have to translate it into English for me. I may not be a PhD, but I do have some knowledge of America.” Harry continued to point out various injuries, like, “Oh no, not this little fellow too!” as he continued to do wonders to revive my toes that sent shivers of delight down my spine. 

 “Is this something you learned in the army? An alternative to using torture to get your way?”

“Maybe.” A boyish grin swept over his face, revealing those slightly crooked teeth. Imperfection equals adorable.

I prodded some more, “And what is it that you’re trying to get out of me? What did you need to talk to me about?”

 “A kiss,” he said, meeting my eyes. 

My heart quickened. I hadn’t dared to hope that he was interested in me, until this very second.

He continued, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you from the first time I held your hand going up the stairs at John’s.”

 “You saw me and John kiss the other night — I could tell you didn’t like it.”

“I wouldn’t want to get in the middle of anything going on between you two so if there was something going on there—?” He paused.

I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know how to sum up what I felt about John.

“Oh,” he said, half getting up. “You see, I had a feeling you didn’t really like him that way anymore. I saw you two talking at the dinner last night at camp, and there seemed to be no love lost. But I must be wrong. I apologize,” and he went to leave.

“No, stop!” I sat up, clutching the linen to my chest. “Don’t go. You are right – there is no love lost. It was lost a long time ago. I don’t want you to leave. And I do want to hear more about why you want to kiss me.” I started to feel a blush forming over my cheeks that wasn’t caused by the heat of the bath. “Because, well, I do have a bit of a crush on you, Harry,” I said, reaching out to touch his fingers draped over the side of the bath. My fingers were slippery with the oils Mary had put in the bath, and I swirled a little bead of water on the back of his hand. “You’ve been very sweet and thoughtful to me this whole…trip. And I find you very attractive.”

I looked at Harry, waiting for him to say something. “And John?” he finally asked.

“John loves this world more here,” I said, pointing out the timbered ceiling, the fire, the bed, “more than he ever did me. And seeing that releases me from whatever attachment I used to have for him.”

He sat back on the stool again and pulled my foot back into his palm. “Ellie.” Harry cleared his throat, hesitating. “I think you’re incredible, and I don’t know if this is a crush or something more. I know I was a sad sack out there on the ride here, but you’ve injected a brightness into my life I haven’t felt in a long time. You in that blue dress. The way you saved that girl. The way you made me laugh on the road when you slapped yourself! I’ve tried really hard not to fall for you, because of John, because of you being an American, but…”

I was reaching out for his chin to pull him to me, “Wait, what?” I asked, stopping.

“No, it’s not because I don’t like Americans or anything, but you live so far away, and if I fell for you, hard, then it would make life complicated.”

I laughed, and gestured to the room around us. “You think that’s complicated? How about being stuck in the wrong fucking century?”

Harry joined me, and we couldn’t stop laughing. Then he put his fingers to his lips, got up and came over closer to me, “I can’t kiss you if you’re laughing.”

He could see me naked through the sheet.

“Are you cold, how is the temperature of the water in this drafty castle?” he asked, and then dipped his hand into the water next to my thighs. “Hmm, getting chilly. Have you had enough of bath time? Do you want me to help you get out?”

The water was getting cold. His eyes locked into mine.

 “I have a strange feeling you want to see me naked,” I teased, testing the situation.

“What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t?” he asked rhetorically, and raised one eyebrow in a dare.

I could have sent him out of the room with a slap on his wrist for being saucy.  I could have asked for a towel. His look burned pure heat into me.

I stood up, water dripping off my naked body.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked.

He came over to me so fast my head spun like I was falling through time again. But this time his strong arms kept me steady, and I felt his lips on mine.

“I’m getting you wet,” I said, through urgent, pent-up kisses as he wrapped his arms and hands around every part of me.

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispered into my ear, as he scooped me out of the bathtub, and sat me on his lap in front of the fire. He grabbed the linen sheet that had been over the tub and dried me off, wiping off my back, my arms, then running it down my legs, and then slowly over my breasts. “You are so beautiful,” he said, in that deep voice that made every part of me light on fire. I kissed him hard, my body alive with being surrounded by this powerfully-made man whose arms and hands and lips were consuming my body. The feel of his lips on mine made me hungry for more.

But time was not on our side.

There was a knock on the door. “My lady, may I come in?”

A time-travel adventure she never wanted… with the man who broke her heart.

When Ellie Hartford, a divorced mother of two and professor of Middle English, goes on vacation with her two little girls to England, she thinks it’ll be a relaxing time to catch up with her friend Jane. They’ll go on long walks in the beautiful English countryside, eat delicious food, see a few sights, and catch up with her best friend, who—bonus—lives in a partially renovated castle. They are stunned when John, an ex-boyfriend of Ellie, shows up drunk, hand-cuffed in ancient manacles late one night. Handsome and kind neighbor Harry helps get John uncuffed, but the mystery remains—what happened to John? A medieval treasure trove is revealed, that has a direct connection to the haunted labyrinth in Jane’s back garden. When the force of broken hearts wields more influence than Ellie could have foretold, she is pulled back to the year 1344, to the reign of Edward III, and the founding of the Order of the Garter.

Ellie will do whatever it takes to get back to her children. With her knowledge of the medieval language and culture, she must navigate the intricate world of feudal England, with its tournaments, knights, chivalry, dancing, and feasts.

Not to mention the distraction of two men eager to tear down the walls she’s built around her heart.

The Ladies of the Labyrinth
Book 1 – The Veil Between Worlds
Book 2 – The Veil of Time
Book 3 – The Season of the Veil

Buy Links:

https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-veil-between-worlds-hope-carolle/19654841?ean=9781960184061
https://www.amazon.com/Veil-Between-Worlds-Ladies-Labyrinth-ebook/dp/B0BPN3GWXK
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-veil-between-worlds-hope-carolle/1142934749

About the Author

Hope Carolle is a professional book editor by day, and a historical romance/time travel writer late by night. She was inspired to write the series based on her own experiences getting a Masters in Middle English Literature before 1525 at King’s College London as an American studying abroad. Now living in Charlotte, North Carolina, she is a proud mother of two young women, a giant rescue dog named Charlie, and looks forward to living abroad and walking more labyrinths soon.

Learn more about Hope at these social media links:

@hopecarolleauthor Instagram

@hopecarolleauthor Facebook

Giveaway Opportunity! Hope is offering a paperback copy of her book, The Veil Between Worlds to one lucky reader who comments below. Say hello and tell us your favorite place to read to be in the running. Hope will choose a winner this Monday. Good luck!