Tag Archives: Regency Romance

First Kiss Friday with Pamela Gibson

04 Friday Sep 2020

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I’d like to welcome back to my First Kiss Friday blog my dear friend Pamela Gibson. Pamela will be sharing a first kiss scene from her latest release Scandal’s Promise. Isn’t the cover just lovely? Happy reading and enjoy!

Excerpt:

After a few minutes, he swept her near the open terrace door, barely cracked because of the cold. A few couples had bravely escaped the stuffy ballroom. He led her outside into the darkness and took up the dance position again.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you not like dancing in the dark on a cold night?”

Drawing her closer, he danced her into the far corner, out of the light from the windows. Stopping, he lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Emily, I need to kiss you.”

Her breath caught as he gave her time to push him away. When she didn’t, he pulled her into his arms and pressed her against his warm body. She closed her eyes, wanting to feel every inch of him against her, to somehow ease the longing tightening her breasts and pulsing between her thighs.

Drew, how could you have left me for her.

His mouth closed over hers, sending tingles of pleasure to her core. When he deepened the kiss, she sighed and let delicious heat swamp her senses. His tongue slipped in as he lowered his hands and pressed her bottom against a hard ridge. She touched him, tasted him, her body begging for more. He broke the kiss and nuzzled her neck. “God, you feel so good and you taste even better. But this is not the place or the time, is it?”

“No.”

A laugh she knew all too well trilled from somewhere nearby. Had Lydia followed them out? Mortified, she stepped back and took his arm. “I believe it is too chilly to be dancing out of doors, my lord.”

“Indeed. It is also too public.”

They strolled back toward the ballroom and entered together, aware tongues would wag once again as those who remembered their old scandal shared it with others who didn’t know their story.

She’d taken a dangerous step into the past, but it was not an irrevocable one. She would only briefly have to put up with those who would scorn her as a pathetic spinster, tied to one man, a man who had betrayed her with another woman.

Papa was on the mend. Aunt Lily was satisfied he would recover. Their return to the country was already planned.

Out of sight, out of mind?

Never.

Scandal’s Promise
By Pamela Gibson

Haunted by questions and her own insecurities, Lady Emily Sinclair longs to discover why her betrothed abandoned her and married another. Seven years have passed, but the pain of his betrayal still lingers, buried beneath layers of humiliation and mistrust. When he returns after the Napoleonic Wars, she vows to avoid him. If only her foolish heart felt the same.

Broken and addicted to his medication, widower Andrew Quimby, Lord Cardmore, rattles around his ancient manor, oblivious to his deteriorating health and state of mind. When he learns the woman he was forced to abandon remains unmarried, he vows to try to win her back, even if it means returning to a society he despises.

But Andrew soon discovers he has a secret enemy. Threatening notes appear and sinister accidents put those in his inner circle in danger. Can he overcome his demons in time to keep them safe or will everyone and everything he loves disappear forever.

Buy Link for Scandal’s Promise: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08F2LVR5B/

 

About the author:

Author of eight books on California history and fifteen romance novels, Pamela Gibson is a former City Manager who now lives in the Nevada desert. She has a bachelor’s degree in history and a master’s degree in public administration, but her passion is and always has been writing.

Having spent three years messing about in boats, a hobby that included a five-thousand-mile trip in a 32-foot Nordic Tug, she now spends most of her time indoors happily reading, writing, cooking and keeping up with the antics of Ralph, her Siamese rescue cat.

If you want to learn more about her activities go to https://www.pamelagibsonwrites.com and sign up for her quarterly newsletter. Or stalk her in these places:

Bookbub: www.bookbub.com/profile/pamela-gibson

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Pamela-Gibson/1557080444511057

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/pamgibsonwrites

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Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Pamela-Gibson/e/B00MKVB4XE

First Kiss Friday with Cerise DeLand

21 Friday Aug 2020

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It’s another First Kiss Friday and my guest today is the lovely Cerise DeLand. Cerise has an excerpt from her novel Miss Harvey’s Horribly Loveable Fiancé. Happy reading, my lovelies, and enjoy!

Excerpt:

By their fourth meeting—another ball—Northington had been introduced to Esme by a mutual friend. As he took her hand to lead her in a quadrille, he revealed that he’d come only because he’d learned she would attend.

“I’m complimented,” she said, as a challenge to cover her admission of delight.

“Good. Shall I ask you to call me by my given name?”

“You could.”

“Giles. Will you use it?”

“When it’s suitable.”

“You are careful.” He grinned. “I like that about you.”

“Evidently not careful enough. When we met, you found me alone in a most unsuitable place.”

“As you found me.”

She could not help the appeal of his charming mouth. “Did she find you?”

“He did.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“You should believe me.”

Time to admit the truth. “I want to.”

He inhaled, frustration ripe on his brow. “Let me talk to you in the hall.”

“Why?”

“Esme—I hope I may address you that way. The hall, behind the marble statue of our host, affords more privacy than here.”

Hope of being naughty with him made her tingle. “My lord, why would we need privacy?”

“Because Esme, I’d like to kiss you.”

She licked her lips.

“I see that idea appeals to you.”

“Are you always so bold with women?”

“Only you.”

Caution was a practice she rarely employed. With him, she should apply it. “I think we’ll wait.”

“Not long, Esme. Not too damn long,” he whispered as he devoted himself to perfection in the rest of the dance.

That evening, she’d learned from her friends that in the past two years, he’d had two lovers, both wealthy widows. Now he was free of both.

So when he returned to sit beside her, he murmured, “Esme, darling, look at me.”

She’d given in. With such endearments, who could deny him?

His hazel eyes faceted into shades of desire. “I want to become friends.”

“We are.”

“More than friends, Esme.”

She shook her head. She mustn’t lose it. “You’re a marquess.”

“True.”

“Not considered appropriate for me, a viscount’s daughter.” Furthermore, his father was an old roué. That man, it was said aloud and in gossip sheets, wanted a glorious match for his only son. Specifically, ‘glorious’ translated into rich as Midas. That criteria she fit.

“Will you count me out of your life because of my status?” He joked, appearing amused as well as seriously dismayed.

“You’re twenty-nine,” she said in accusation.

“I am. You are six years younger. Is there a problem?”

“You’ve waited rather a long time to—” Well, why not say the obvious? “A long time to look for a bride.”

“I’ve had other occupations.”

She harrumphed. Yes, she knew two of them, too. “Aren’t you getting long in the tooth?”

He chuckled, looked about and leaned closer. “Do you think me so doddering that I might be incapable of begetting—?”

“No!” She burned with the power of her blush. “No. I do not.”

He laughed whole-heartedly. “I am in want of a wife. And I have looked for one for many years.”

“With any results?”

“None. Until lately.”

So by their fifth meeting (at Lady Elsworth’s tea), they were jovial friends who appeared to one and all to sit and discuss the cartoonist Rowlandson’s ability to portray the ironies of the Royals.

“May I call on you, Miss Harvey?” he had asked her when those in the room finally left them alone in their cozy corner.

“Why?” she’d been bold enough to inquire.

“I find I need your company.”

She stared at him and dared not believe it. The way he made her breath hitch just by gazing at her told her that if he pressed his magnificent mouth to hers, if he touched her arm or (please, God) her breast or (yesss) her quivering thigh, she could dissolve into little puddles of goo. And that was no way to maintain one’s reputation, especially if one liked to ride out at dawn or drink three glasses of champagne without comment or censure.

“Have dull friends, do you, sir?” She challenged him. Had to.

“Too many.”

“What of the lady you met in the small salon at Lady Wimple’s?” She had to know from his lips if he was engaged in a new affair with anyone. She wouldn’t stand for him having mistresses. She couldn’t bear the competition. She was no Diamond, no Incomparable. But she had her assets. Good hair. A straight nose. Abundant breasts. So she’d brook no competition. Never. If he wished to marry her, he had to be hers, all hers…or not at all.

“Esme, listen to me.” In that crowded drawing room with dozens of the ton chatting on and noting every eye that drifted to every heaving bosom, he put a hand to hers and held it tightly. “That was no lady.”

Oh, how she wished to believe him.

“May I call?” he asked once more, his face full of earnest hope.

“Yes.” She wanted him, as she’d wanted no other. “Tomorrow.”

And so he had.

For three days in succession.

By the fourth day, her Mama (reading the air, Esme supposed) left them alone on some flimsy excuse.

He moved to Esme’s side on the settee and took her hands. Into both palms, he’d placed hot little kisses. Her nipples had beaded. Her belly had swelled. And her head had swum as he threaded his fingers into her coiffure and placed his firm lips on her own. And oh, he felt like heaven.

“Darling, I want to marry you,” he whispered. His mouth traveled her cheek and he bit her earlobe.

She sank her fingers into his thick soft curls and kissed him back with an ardor that (afterward) frankly shocked her.

“That’s yes,” he stated with finality. “I know it is.” He stood up so fast she thought he’d been shot. He left her there, aching to have his hands on her everywhere. But to his credit, he went in search of a footman and asked for her father. Straight away, he asked Papa who gave his immediate approval.

And then, quick as you please, Northington had disappeared.

The man who had rushed her into courtship, who had teased and bantered and lured her to fantasies of lying abed with him naked, had simply vanished.

Then two weeks ago, he had reappeared at Courtland Hall with a special license in hand. He apologized for his absence, but gave no explanations. Then he had promptly taken her out into her mother’s parterre and had kissed her senseless.

“May second, I want us to wed, darling.”

Not a question. A statement.

And she—twenty-three and aglow from head to heart to breasts to quivering belly—was  in lust with him. She marveled, for she was no twit. No foolish woman whose daydreams ruled her life. No. She’d entertained numerous swains over the years. After all, she was a wealthy catch. She’d refused six gentlemen in marriage. She hadn’t found any of those fellows—titled, well-healed and accomplished in their own rights— interesting or even vaguely exciting.

But this man, this Northington, mesmerized her.

Truth be bald and bold, she pulsed to feel him wholly devoted to her. And soon, all things to her, dear and vital, tender and lusty, sacred and nakedly profane.

That, she concluded, or she was going to run off with him without benefit of marriage and allow him all sorts of liberties.

But that was two weeks ago.

And this morning as she looked out upon the rolling meadow, rosy in the rays of a rising sun, she questioned if her unmaidenly ardor to have him was enough to bind him to her for the next thirty or forty years.

Or did she need much more?

Miss Harvey’s Horribly Loveable Fiancé
Four Weddings and a Frolic, Book 3
By Cerise DeLand

Theirs was to be The Wedding of the Season!
Until the bride ran away and…
The groom chased after her.
Then she tried to shoot him…
And thankfully aimed poorly.
How can this escapade end, if she’s marrying him for his titles?
And he’s marrying her for her money?
Yet their affair appears to be the Romance of the Year?

Amazon: KU $0.99 August 10-Sept. 2 https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08FF5LFQV

About the Author:

Cerise DeLand loves to cook, hates to dust, lives to travel, read and write! She pens #1 Bestselling Regencies known for their spice, historical accuracy and their eloquence! With awards on her shelves for more than 60 romances, she’s also written for Pocket, St. Martin’s and Kensington. She likes wine at 5 p.m. and tries desperately to persuade herbs and veggies to grow in her south Texas garden!

Find Cerise:

Cerise DeLand’s Website:  http://www.cerisedeland.com

Cerise DeLand’s Delicious Doings Blog: http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com

Cerise DeLand’s Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0089DS2N2

Like her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CeriseDeLandAuthor/

Follow her on Twitter: https://twitter.com/CeriseDeLand

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2940404.Cerise_DeLand

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cerise-deland

Cerise’s Treasures on Pinterest! https://www.pinterest.com/frenchcherryred/

Cerise DeLand’s Delicious Newsletter!  http://www.cerisedeland.com

 

First Kiss Friday with Alina K. Field

14 Friday Aug 2020

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It’s another First Kiss Friday and today I’d like to welcome Alina K. Field to my blog. Alina is sharing the first kiss scene from her novel The Duke She Despised. Happy reading and enjoy, my lovelies!

Excerpt:

The way she was chewing her lip, he knew Mrs. Marlowe was hiding something.

“And how did Mr. Marlowe know the duke?” he asked.

She clucked her tongue. “He didn’t. He’d merely heard in the course of his work about…about the duke’s difficult demeanor.”

Andrew MacDonal had been the topic of conversation among the clergy. How odd. This was a woman with secrets.

Her gaze shifted away and then back, and the spark of defiance there stirred an urge to laugh.

Marlowe was the widow of a man of the cloth, not much used to prevaricating. The vicar’s widow was being wicked. She was lying.

A sheen of moisture appeared on her cheeks and her lips pressed together, suppressing a tremble.

She was delicious. He took a step closer and watched her eyes widen.

“Sir.”

He left her plenty of room to retreat. She held her position.

A potent mix of curiosity, amusement, and desire brewed in him. “Your husband, the gossiping vicar, what, pray tell, caused his demise?”

“He suffered an apoplexy.”

“An apoplexy? He was elderly?”

She huffed. “He was…he had just turned one and sixty. Really, Mr. Andrews, this is—”

“None of my business? You don’t think the duke will want to know that his housekeeper’s late husband spread slander about him?”

She gasped. “That is not—”

“He values loyalty.”

“Loyalty?” She scoffed. “Hmm. And he shall have mine. Am I not trying to see to his comforts? Is it disloyalty for a servant to want to know what irritates her master and what pleases him?”

*****

His head dipped closer and her pulse jumped as strong hands curved around her forearms.

A choking breath brought a woodsy male scent sparking shivers all the way to the soles of her half boots. Ack. He’d startled her into clumsy lies.

And she should not have mentioned that notion of pleasing. Their gazes locked.

His mouth parted. He blinked, his eyes catching the gleam of the lamp.

“Are you…are you quite all right, Mr. Andrews?”

When he drew closer, her heart took off in a wild gallop. Might he…would he…

His lips touched hers, briefly, sweetly, and then he lifted his head away, still watching her.

Warmth unfurled in her, misting her eyes. The few kisses she’d shared with her long-ago suitor had never been so gentle or caring. His look of wonder, of frank admiration heated her as much as the kiss had.

She went up on her toes, freeing her hands to thread through the wild hair at his nape, and when he hooked a hand at her waist and slanted his mouth over hers, she parted her lips for a wholehearted kiss. Desire burst inside her like the pent-up waters of a damn breaking, and the moments stretched on and on.

When he moved her head to his shoulder, his heart pounded in time with her own.

That had been a real kiss.

“I suppose that was quite improper.” The whispered breath tickled her ear. “You must think me a villain.”

He stepped back, his hands sliding along her arms as he released her.

Heat flooded her cheeks, and she blinked away tears. The kiss had been astonishing, and far too brief.

The Duke She Despised
By Alina K. Field

The new Duke of Kinmarty has lost everyone who mattered and gained naught but a title, and debt, and an old pile of a castle. When a fetching new housekeeper appears on his doorstep frantic to ready the place for the Yuletide, he seizes the chance for a respite from grieving and pretends to be the new duke’s estate factor.

With her cousin’s children due to arrive from India, a vicar’s widow hides her identity and takes a position as housekeeper to their dreadful uncle, the man who years ago sabotaged her own chance for happiness. Overwhelmed by a castle understaffed and in disarray, she forges a bond with the new duke’s charming but not very competent factor, not knowing that he’s hiding something as well.

When allies become lovers, each senses the truth may rip them apart. Can their love survive when she discovers he’s the duke she despised?

Universal Book Link: https://books2read.com/u/38Z7YV

Author Bio:

Award-winning and USA Today bestselling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but she prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California and hasn’t looked back. She is the author of several Regency romances, including the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring. She is hard at work on her next series of historical romances, but loves to hear from readers!

Author Links: 

https://alinakfield.com/

https://www.facebook.com/alinakfield

https://twitter.com/AlinaKField

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7173518.Alina_K_Field

https://www.pinterest.com/alinakf/

https://www.instagram.com/alinak.field/

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/alina-k-field

Newsletter signup:  https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/z6q6e3

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Alina-K.-Field/e/B00DZHWOKY

 

First Kiss Friday with Collette Cameron

29 Friday May 2020

Posted by in 2020, First Kiss Friday

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Welcome to another week for my First Kiss Friday blog. Today’s guest is USA Today bestselling author Collette Cameron who has an excerpt from her latest release, Never Dance with a Duke. Isn’t this cover just gorgeous? Get your fans ready, my lovelies. Happy reading and enjoy!

Excerpt:

“Nicolette?” Mathias’s silky-smooth timber caressed her. “Darling, are you all right? You fled before I could speak with you.”

His smile was endearingly bashful. Charmingly vulnerable. And if she hadn’t already been in love with him, she’d have fallen in love at that moment.

She averted her face and shook her head. Struggling to regain her composure, she said, “I just needed a moment.”

A moment to come to grips with my love for you.

He sank onto the bench beside her, his heat enveloping her at once. Without a word, he drew her back against his chest and pressed a kiss to her crown. “Forgive me if I overstepped. I seem to forget myself when I’m with you. I’m completely under your spell, Nicolette.”

A watery chuckle escaped her. “And I with you.”

Whenever she was in his arms, the world felt right.

Relaxing into Mathias’s sturdy strength, she angled her head, looking up at the sky. Though it was a cloudless night, few stars were visible because of London’s many lights, and the new moon wasn’t noticeable at all.

With one finger, he turned her chin toward him, their eyes meeting.

Searching. Seeking. Speaking what neither had dared to voice.

And call her a fool, Nicolette closed her eyes and raised her mouth. Silently inviting him to give her what she craved, more than oxygen or food or water.

Not a heartbeat later, he settled those marvelous lips upon hers.

And he did everything he’d promised during that tantalizing dance, and more.

So much more.

She turned into Mathias, sliding her arms around his back and clutching him to her, letting sensation and desire take over.

“Nicolette, my sweet darling.” He groaned low in his throat, and a thrill shot through her that she’d brought him to this state.

He kissed the sensitive place below her ear, and she angled her head to allow him better access. Who knew a kiss in that particular spot could pebble her nipples and cause dampness to gather in the cleft between her legs?

In this blissful moment, she didn’t care that this was unwise.

Perhaps, utterly foolish.

That it might lead to heartache and regrets.

I love him. I love him. I love Mathias.

Never Dance With A Duke
By Collette Cameron

The cost of trust is more than she’s willing to pay. But he’ll do everything he can to change her mind…

A scandal ruined her future…

Nicolette Twistleton delights in thumbing her nose at Society. After all, becoming the Spiteful Spinster was what helped her through being jilted by her betrothed. Putting her faith in another man? Impossible. But there’s something about the entirely too handsome and charming Mathias Pembroke that makes her wish she was the kind of woman who could learn to trust again.

A secret can destroy his…

Mathias, Duke of Westfall, wants nothing to do with his inherited title and all the public scrutiny it brings. He has dark secrets to protect, and can’t afford to be distracted by the trappings of Society. What he apparently can be distracted by, however, is the lovely Nicolette. He understands her pain and knows he could help her heal…if only she were willing to open her heart to him.

Can love save them both?

When ghosts from the past emerge and threaten the fragile bonds they’ve begun to build, Nicolette and Mathias find themselves caught between their feelings for each other and devastating scandal. Will love be enough to protect them—or was their happily ever after doomed from the very start?

This friends-to-lovers, second chance historical romance by a USA Today bestselling author, will have you flipping the pages to find out if Mathias and Nicolette trust themselves to love again.

If you enjoy reading witty, lovable rogue and duke love stories with a pinch of mystery, a dash of humor, and soul-searing emotion, then you’ll adore Collette Cameron’s enthralling SEDUCTIVE SCOUNDRELS SERIES. Buy NEVER DANCE WITH A DUKE and settle into your favorite reading nook for a page-turning, entertaining Regency world adventure you can’t put down.

Though this book can easily be read as a stand-alone, most readers prefer to read the series in order.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0866BHZ4C?tag=collett-20

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/never-dance-with-a-duke-collette-cameron/1136700213?ean=2940162630432

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/never-dance-with-a-duke

Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=vg3YDwAAQBAJ

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/never-dance-with-a-duke/id1503827728

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52583377

 BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/never-dance-with-a-duke-a-historical-regency-romance-seductive-scoundrels-book-7-by-collette-cameron

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling, award-winning author COLLETTE CAMERON® scribbles Scottish and Regency historical romance novels featuring dashing rogues, rakes, and scoundrels and the strong heroines who reform them. Blessed with an overactive and witty muse that won’t stop whispering new romantic romps in her ear, she’s lived in Oregon her entire life. Although she dreams of living in Scotland part-time. A confessed Cadbury chocoholic, you’ll always find a dash of inspiration and a pinch of humor in her sweet-to-spicy timeless romances®.

Website: http://collettecameron.com

Facebook: http://facebook.com/collettecameronauthor

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/colletteauthor/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/Collette_Author

Amazon Author Page:  http://amazon.com/author/collettecameron.com/

Book Bub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/collette-cameron

Collette’s Chèris VIP Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/CollettesCheris/

Instagram: https://instagram.com/collettecameronauthor/

Newsletter: https://bit.ly/TheRegencyRoseGift

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

New Release from Caroline Warfield!

07 Thursday May 2020

Posted by in 2020, New Release

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What a great surprise to learn that I didn’t have to wait until October to read my friend Caroline Warfield’s latest release. Music on the Waters hit my Kindle last night and I can’t wait to read it. Be sure to grab yourself a copy and congratulations, Caroline!

Music on the Waters
By Caroline Warfield
Available now for $0.99

Sir Alexander Bradshaw, solid Scots merchant, needs to acquire a wife, a sensible woman who can manage his unruly sons and sullen daughter. As Orkney’s long, dark winter approaches with no suitable candidates, an acquaintance suggests a music teacher might occupy his daughter. He embraces at the idea.

Ann Dunwood let herself be lured to Orkney by the opportunity to play The Kirkwall Organ. For the beauty of the instrument, she can endure the tedium of choirs and parishioners who wish only for the most banal of hymns; she’s done it before. She knows how to fade into the shadows and keep to her place.

When Alec comes upon her filling the cathedral with a Bach fugue he is enchanted by the magical creature at the keyboard. The object of his fascination sinks into a demure young woman when the music ends. Alec determines to get the magical creature back, and quickly discovers she can fill his life with the music it sorely needs. How long before their solos become a duet?

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B086SGRWSG/

Bio:

Traveler, would-be adventurer, former tech writer and library technology professional, Caroline Warfield has now retired to the urban wilds of Eastern Pennsylvania, and divides her time between writing and seeking adventures with her grandbuddy. In her newest series, Children of Empire, three cousins torn apart by lies find their way home from the far corners of the British Empire, finding love along the way.

She has works published by Soul Mate Publishing and also independently published works. In addition she has participated in five group anthologies, one not yet published.

For more about the series and all of Caroline’s books, look here:

https://www.carolinewarfield.com/bookshelf/

First Kiss Friday with guest Caroline Warfield

01 Friday May 2020

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It’s First Kiss Friday and we’re going to ring in the month of May with my dear friend Caroline Warfield. Caroline has a new book coming out in October and I’m excited to read an excerpt of what she has in store for us with Music on the Waters. Take it away Caroline!

Music on the Waters concerns a lonely widower and a brilliant musician he has hired to teach his daughter. Late one night the two of them have pulled a Beethoven duet from the music cabinet and have been attempting to play it.

Excerpt:

Halfway through, their playing became entangled, until Alec broke off laughing, bowing his head to the piano. Ann convulsed, as if his laughter infected her with madness. They laughed until tears ran.

“How could we—” she began, gasping for air.

“The arrogance of it!” he replied.

“Maybe with a year of practice,” she said, catching her breath.

“A year? Surely a month or two would suffice,” he asserted.

She beamed at him; he thought it the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. When she opened her mouth to reply, the luscious line of her lower lip drew him. He froze, unable to pull his gaze away.

She closed her mouth slowly, and he leaned forward longing to kiss, his common sense in full retreat.

When she licked her lower lip, he was lost. He closed the distance until their breaths mingled.

“Sir Alec?” she murmured before he touched his lips to hers.

“Alec,” he said against her mouth, moving his lips and touching hers with his tongue. She didn’t pull away. He moved back mere inches, enough to look for any sign of distress. Her wide, expectant eyes sent him back for more.

Just a taste, he thought.

When she opened for him, he was lost. He pushed the bench back from the piano and pulled her into his lap, one arm about her shoulders anchoring her to him, the other caressing her waist and hip.

She gripped his shoulders, holding on as if for life. Her untutored responses to his kisses sent a warning through him, but he ignored it. When the hand at her waist slipped up to cup one breast, she stiffened, and he pulled it away, lifting his head to look at her again. She whimpered and shivered in his arms, leaning her mouth toward his, but he pulled her against his shoulder.

He dropped his head to hers, reveling in the silken feel of her hair. “I should apologize.”

She pulled herself up. “No, I—”

She didn’t object when he pulled her back. “Don’t. You’re a beautiful woman and a brilliant musician. I refuse to regret kissing you.” They sat together for long moments, her head nestled against his shoulder and his arm around her waist, until he kissed her neck and set her back on the bench.

Music on the Waters
By Caroline Warfield
Preorder now for $0.99

Sir Alexander Bradshaw, solid Scots merchant, needs to acquire a wife, a sensible woman who can manage his unruly sons and sullen daughter. As Orkney’s long, dark winter approaches with no suitable candidates, an acquaintance suggests a music teacher might occupy his daughter. He embraces at the idea.

Ann Dunwood let herself be lured to Orkney by the opportunity to play The Kirkwall Organ. For the beauty of the instrument, she can endure the tedium of choirs and parishioners who wish only for the most banal of hymns; she’s done it before. She knows how to fade into the shadows and keep to her place.

When Alec comes upon her filling the cathedral with a Bach fugue he is enchanted by the magical creature at the keyboard. The object of his fascination sinks into a demure young woman when the music ends. Alec determines to get the magical creature back, and quickly discovers she can fill his life with the music it sorely needs. How long before their solos become a duet?

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B086SGRWSG/

Bio:

Traveler, would-be adventurer, former tech writer and library technology professional, Caroline Warfield has now retired to the urban wilds of Eastern Pennsylvania, and divides her time between writing and seeking adventures with her grandbuddy. In her newest series, Children of Empire, three cousins torn apart by lies find their way home from the far corners of the British Empire, finding love along the way.

She has works published by Soul Mate Publishing and also independently published works. In addition she has participated in five group anthologies, one not yet published.

For more about the series and all of Caroline’s books, look here:

https://www.carolinewarfield.com/bookshelf/

 

 

 

 

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.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

14 Friday Feb 2020

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Happy Valentine’s Day to all our wonderful readers!

I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank all of you for making Fire & Frost a bestselling box set. The Bluestocking Belles and I are thrilled with all the marvelous reviews we’ve been receiving and also for the set hitting several bestseller lists including, Amazon, Goodreads, and Smashwords.

You are the ones to make this happen. Thank you for supporting the Bluestocking Belles by purchasing a copy of Fire & Frost. Your purchase also supports our mutual charity, the Malala Fund. Our readers are the best!

♥ ¸.•*(¸.•*´♥`*•.¸)`*•.♥
Fire & Frost – Only $0.99
Curl up with the gift of a great book this Valentine’s Day. Fire & Frost will warm your heart!
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, brand new or rediscovered—even one that’s a whack on the side of the head—heats up the 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: https://amzn.to/2LGvSbK
Apple Books: https://apple.co/355nXMG
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2sdPVYd
Kobo: http://bit.ly/36nYwX
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2LF74AK
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First Kiss Friday with Caroline Warfield

07 Friday Feb 2020

Posted by in 2020, First Kiss Friday

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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

Subscribe to Caroline’s newsletter  http://www.carolinewarfield.com/newsletter/

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Caroline’s Other Books

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

Bookshelf                    http://www.carolinewarfield.com/bookshelf