I totally want to read this one. Read the excerpt and I’m hooked. I pre-ordered it and for $2.99, this is a steal!
Archive for the ‘Excerpt Thursdays’ Category
Excerpt Thursday – Ride With Me by Ruthie Knox
Thursday, January 19th, 2012
Hook Me ~ Excerpt Thursday
Thursday, April 14th, 2011Today we have two fantastic excerpts. Let me know if you’ve been hooked. And as a special treat, one lucky commenter will win an advance copy of Kate Noble’s FOLLOW MY LEAD!
Lucy Jones is a nobody. As an orphan she was reluctantly taken in by her wealthy relatives, the Arringtons, on the condition that she be silent and obedient, always. When her lifelong infatuation with her cousin Sebastian is rewarded by a proposal of marriage, she’s happy and grateful, even though the family finds excuses to keep the engagement a secret.
James Wright-Gordon has always had the benefits of money and a high station in society, but he is no snob. He’s very close to his sister, Anna, who quickly falls for the dashing Sebastian when the families are brought together at a wedding party. Meanwhile, James is struck by Lucy’s quiet intelligence, and drawn to her despite their different circumstances in life.
Lucy suspects that Sebastian has fallen for Anna, but before she can set him free, a terrible secret is revealed that shakes both families. Will James come to her rescue—or abandon her to poverty?
.
A MARRIAGE INCONVENIENCE by Susanna Fraser
Available April 11, 2011 from Carina Press
James knew quite well that he had merely had the wind knocked out of him, and that the young woman leaning over him was therefore no celestial being. Also, angels were generally represented as fair creatures, golden of hair and garbed in heavenly blue. Nothing angelic about deep brown eyes that fairly crackled with intelligence behind their momentary anxiety, nor about those dark curls peeping from beneath a scarlet cloak.
Yet for all that, the girl was an angel. He smiled lazily at her.
Her brows drew together slightly, which only served to further highlight her deep-set, expressive eyes.
“Sir, are you injured?”
Her voice was clear and melodious. Angelic, even.
“Nothing worse than bruises, I trust, miss,” he assured her.
“Do you think you can rise?”
The angel could not possibly realize she had committed a double entendre. Sweet-faced and innocent, she was no older than Anna and likely a little younger. She spoke in the soft, cultured tones of a gentlewoman.
But he allowed himself an inward smile nonetheless. “I trust I can,” he said, pushing himself up to a sitting position with a slight wince. He had landed on his left shoulder, and it pained him when he moved.
She rocked back on her heels to maintain a correct distance between them, and the hood of her cloak fell back to reveal all her thick brown hair, which James knew must have begun the morning neatly coiled but was now wind-tossed.
“But you are injured, sir! I’m so very sorry.”
He blinked at her. “Whatever for?”
“I startled your horse.”
“Not deliberately, I trust, unless you have the power to summon the wind.”
Her lips twitched as though she wanted to smile but was uncertain of the propriety of such a course. “No, sir.”
“Well, then. You’ve no need to apologize. I’ve but a trifling pain in my shoulder, nothing more.” He glanced over the offending shoulder and spotted Ghost galloping down the valley, with Anna on Shade in close pursuit. “Ghost is uninjured as well, and giving my sister a chance to exhibit what a master equestrienne she is.”
“It must be a fine thing, to ride so well.”
The angel’s voice was wistful, and James turned to look at her again. “Are you a horsewoman, miss?”
“I never had the opportunity to learn.”
He studied her more closely. Her simple dress and cloak were well made, but without the fashionable line and elegance that marked the work of an expensive London modiste. She must come of family genteel enough to see its daughters educated, but not wealthy enough to keep a stable. She couldn’t be Lord Almont’s intended, as he had first suspected, and he rejoiced that this pretty innocent wasn’t to be the bride of a foolish lord almost old enough to be her grandfather.
~*~*~
Jason Cummings, Duke of Rayne is feeling the weight of his responsibilities – one of which is to get married. Being the most sought after bachelor in London can be trying, so who can blame him if he seeks refuge from the voracious hordes of young debutantes at the decidedly female-free Historical Society? Female-free, that is, until Winnifred Crane marches up to the door, demanding entrance.
Despite her prowess as a historian, Winn is denied membership the Society. So she daringly offers an unusual bargain: if she can prove the authenticity of a certain painting, she’ll be granted recognition, fame, and respect. But to do that, she must go abroad. And to go abroad, she must have an escort, even a stubbornly unwilling one…
Jason has no desire to accompany Winn on her adventure across Europe, but even he is not immune to Winn’s passion for her profession. As the journey proves more difficult than planned, they must work together to stay one step ahead of their rivals…. and the closer they get to the proof Winn seeks, the closer she and Jason become. But as their adventure turns dangerous, can Jason keep this headstrong bluestocking safe? And what will become of their growing bond when the adventure ends?
FOLLOW MY LEAD by Kate Noble
Available May 3, 2011 from Berkley Sensation
The taproom of the Stellzburg Inn was full of life. Life that had eluded Winn up until this time. The energy and excitement that was not found in a library. Travelers, mostly men, and mostly strangers to each other, were drinking, laughing. The innkeeper, his wife, and their servers threaded themselves through the crowd, delivering drinks and food with smiles, and sometimes a wry comment that made the customers laugh.
But it was all perfectly aboveboard. Respectable even.
Somewhat disappointing, that.
“For a minute there you looked blissfully happy, so how is it I rejoin you and you’re wearing a frown?” Jason asked as he returned to the table. “Er . . . you have foam on your nose.”
“Oh!” Winn said as she turned bright red. Jason reached in his pocket but came up empty.
“Damn,” he said, handing her a cloth napkin from their table. “I keep forgetting these are not my own clothes and my handkerchiefs are not where I expect them to be. No, you missed.” He indicated her face.
She wiped again but must have missed the offending foam again, because Jason took the napkin from her hand and, cupping her chin, wiped the end of her nose gently. “There, you’re perfect. Now, why were you scowling before?”
“I was?” she asked, her face remarkably hot. Must be the beer, she decided. “Oh, I was reflecting.”
“Reflecting?” he asked, bemused. “On what, pray tell?”
“That reality rarely lives up to expectations.” At his quizzical expression, she continued. “I thought the taproom of an inn would be . . . bawdier. More like a public house.”
Jason turned completely still. “You’ve been to a public house?”
“No, but I’ve seen illustrations,” she argued. “Someone playing a fast fiddle in the corner, barmaids with their breasts spilling out. Also, I would like to have some illusions preserved. But here we are in the German countryside, and I have not even seen one pair of lederhosen,” she finished mournfully.
Jason threw back his head in laughter, his deep- throated guffaws drawing the attention that Winn’s hesitant giggle had not.
“Expectations are a heavy lot. Perhaps we can find you some lederhosen in Nuremberg. But for now, just be happy that we are amongst actual Germans.”
“Why?” she asked, her eyebrow going up.
“Because they are logical enough to bring us— and charge us for— only one and a half plates of food.” He smiled.
“Thank you,” she replied with a nod of acknowledgement.
And it was not some few minutes later that the innkeeper himself brought over their food— smelling so good and buttery that Winn for a few seconds considered that maybe she could have made use of a full plate.
“Danke,” she said to the innkeeper in anticipation of being served her eagerly awaited meal. Jason casually put his arm around her back, some proprietary instinct letting the innkeeper infer they were indeed coupled.
“Bitte.” The innkeeper smiled back at them. Strange, for the first time since they had met, the innkeeper’s stern countenance had fled, lending him a sort of elfin charm. “I hope you are enjoying yourselves, yes?” he continued in English, still holding the food on his tray.
“Yes,” “Very much,” she and Jason replied in turn.
“Four days married.” The innkeeper shook his head with a smile.
“Five tomorrow,” Jason said, his voice straining on the lie. “That tray looks terribly heavy,” he continued, practically salivating— for which Winn could not blame him. “You should set it down . . .”
But the innkeeper was lost in his own line of thought to even consider placing the tray of food in front of two famished customers. “I remember when I was four days married! My wife— she was so young and lovely we did not emerge from our rooms for the whole week!”
“Er, right,” Winn piped up. “But we were a bit hungry, you see . . . from all the . . . staying in. So if you could— ”
Then the innkeeper turned and addressed the whole room in his booming voice in German. The room gave a solid cheer and then began clapping in time, chanting the same word. The last one the innkeeper had said to them: “Kuss.”
“What on earth?” Winn asked, utterly confused.
“He told the room we are newlyweds,” Jason whispered to her and then hesitated. “And then he said that . . . oh, just follow my lead.”
And he leaned down and kissed her.
Hook Me ~ Excerpt Friday
Friday, April 1st, 2011A day late but not a dollar short in this case. Instead of Excerpt Thursday, I’m giving you a special Excerpt Friday, which means it’s time to ‘Get Hooked’. Today, we have the talented Jackie Barbosa, who is giving us a peek from brand new release–as in today–GRACE UNDER FIRE. Let me know if you were hooked.
Click to purchase
.
London, 1795
While most of Society views Lady Grace Hannington as a clumsy laughingstock, Atticus Stilwell and Viscount Colin Fitzgerald see their perfect partner—a woman who is more than enough for not just one man, but two. She is well-bred enough to be the wife Colin needs, with a blossoming sensuality both men cannot wait to taste.
But Grace will also need strength to withstand the ton’s scrutiny if she agrees to their scandalous arrangement. Can Atticus and Colin show her enough wicked pleasure to convince her to become theirs forever?
.
~*~*~
GRACE UNDER FIRE by Jackie Barbosa
Available April 1, 2011 from Harlequin Spice Briefs
“Here you are, my lady,” Mr. Dimpled Cheek said, turning the knob and swinging inward the door to the retiring room.
“Thank you, s-sir,” she acknowledged, stepping inside the small chamber furnished with a dressing table and chair, a settee, and a privy screen. Unfortunately, she saw nothing to aid her in her current plight. Perhaps she would just hide for the remainder of the night. No one would miss her anyway, least of all Aunt Georgie, whose snores were likely loud enough by now to be heard over the music.
She turned to close the door and found her rescuer had followed her inside. Along with his friend.
Alarm and something else—was it excitement?—tingled along her skin. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I invited you to join me.” How she got all those words out without a single stutter was beyond her, but the exultation curling through her veins made her bold.
“I know,” Mr. Dimpled Cheek said, “but we have a matter of some importance to discuss with you. Privately.”
Oh dear. Her stomach flip-flopped at the way his eyes went dreamy and his voice dropped low when he said the word “privately.”
This was bad. Very bad.
So why wasn’t she afraid?
Sir Blue Eyes shut the door and locked it before leaning against it.
Her eyes widened a fraction, and her heart lurched irregularly. She was trapped. About to be ravished. But instead of finding the prospect horrifying, she burned with anticipation…and curiosity.
She didn’t know precisely what it meant to be ravished—except that no respectable gentleman would ever marry her afterward, but it wasn’t as if she’d been getting any interest from respectable gentlemen up to now, was it?—but she suddenly wished she did. Wished she knew what they would do to her in the privacy of this room that would ruin her for life. Because the dark, intense look in these men’s eyes didn’t make her feel threatened. And for once, she wasn’t too tall, too buxom, too red-haired, too clumsy Grace, but a woman worthy of the desire of not one, but two, of the handsomest men she had ever seen.
Hook Me ~ Excerpt Thursday
Thursday, March 10th, 2011It’s Excerpt Thursday, so it’s time to ‘Get Hooked’. Today, we have our own Lori Brighton with a sizzling hot passage from brand new release, WILD DESIRE. Let me know if you were hooked.
First He Drove Her Mad
In what feels like a moment, Beatrice Edmund goes from being a proper lady cooped up in a stuffy Scottish castle to traveling miles from anything she’s ever known, in the midst of the wildest adventure of her life. And at the center of that adventure is the most infuriating, puzzling scoundrel on earth. She cannot take her eyes off him.
Then He Drove Her Wild
Colin Fitch cannot deny he’s drawn to Beatrice–but lust is all he could possibly feel for the sharp-tongued minx. Still, if there’s a chance she can help him stop the madman he pursues, he must withstand her obvious disapproval. Yet withstanding the longing he feels for her is growing more troublesome by the second. . . And Colin has never been terribly good at staying out of trouble. . .
.
~*~*~
WILD DESIRE by Lori Brighton
Available March 1, 2010 from Kensington Publishing
Did he really like her? Or was she just another woman to him? Did he remember the way he touched her? The way she moaned his name? Heat flushed her cheeks. Slowly, she glanced back, her chin to her shoulder as she peeked at him. His face was turned away from her. There, seated against the sandstone wall with his shirt hanging open, the man looked like a statue come to life.
As if pulled by some unknown force, Bea started forward on her hands and knees. Her gaze pinned to him, she suddenly felt like a hunter and he her prey. She had no idea what she planned to do when she reached his side. Shove him backward, press her mouth to his, tear off his clothes. How shocked he’d be. The thought almost made her giggle. Only a few feet from him, she paused in indecision.
“What do you want, Bea?” he asked, his gaze still focused on the far wall.
What did she want? You. You to touch me. To make me moan your name.
“How did you see me approach?” she asked, more to fill the silence than to satisfy any curiosity.
He turned his head, looking directly at her. “I could smell you.”
That gave her pause. She wasn’t quite sure if she should be embarrassed or not. “Do I smell that horrible?”
She thought the corner of his mouth lifted, but with the lack of light, she wasn’t quite sure. “No. Quite the opposite. Your scent is…refreshing, clean, unique. Sometimes I think I could pick up your scent from a million others.”
Her heart hammered in her chest, his words taunting her already flared desire. She crawled closer to him, her hands on the cool, stone floor. “Do you know what you smell like?”
He laughed, lowering his thick lashes as he looked at the ground. “I can imagine.”
She didn’t pause until her face was only a breath from his. “Sunlight. Warmth.”
His jaw clenched, his throat working as he swallowed. She didn’t wait for him to kiss her, but leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Mad. She was completely and utterly mad. She didn’t know how she’d become so bold. Perhaps it was the statues. Perhaps the fact that she was experienced now. Or perhaps because she ached fiercely and knew only Colin could ease that pain.
Bea wrapped her arms around his neck as his fingers slid into her hair.
“Colin,” she whispered against his mouth. “How terribly I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
He growled low in his throat. They both came up on their knees, desperate to touch body to body. Colin tugged on her hair, tilting her head back. “Do you realize what words like that can do to a man?”
He pressed his lips to her neck. Shivers raced over her skin, heated tremors that shook in her core.
“Such words can drive a man insane, Bea.”
But she wanted him mad, mad with desire. Mad with wanting her.
Colin stood, lifting Bea with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her back against the cold sandstone. Trapped between the wall and the hard man holding her, a thrill coursed through her body. This is what she’d wanted, what she’d dreamt about.
Excerpt Thursday: Hook Me!
Thursday, December 2nd, 2010Love the name! Kendall is a good name, non? 
Read this book already and loved it–and I’m not much into first person, but I love a sexy, brooding hero. Take a moment and read and let me know if Kendall has you hooked.
My sister became dependent on painkillers after a skiing accident left her leg broken in three places. I didn’t understand and, yes, I judged her. After all, we were talking about her will. No one was forcing those pills down her throat. It seemed very cut-and-dried to me back then. But I know differently now.
The first time Chase touched her, Jane finally understood addiction…understood the aching need, the keen want for more…more of his hands…his mouth…his tongue. His complete mastery over her body. She knew the suffocation of crushing anxiety as she waited for her next hit, the flash of terrific pain when it didn’t come.
Chase seems unwilling to give Jane what she needs; what she ultimately craves above all else. But addicts can’t think beyond the fix. They’ll resort to desperate measures to feed their need…even if they lose themselves in the process. Even if they come undone…
.
~*~*~
COME UNDONE by Kendall Grace
Word Count: 24,000 Format: eBook
Available December 3, 2010 from Ellora’s Cave
***
I’ll never forget the first time I saw him. Eyes so gray they were almost silver, hair as black as those summer nights had been; the rich sound of his laughter at something witty my friend Sara had said. All of this floated around me, my pulse dancing. But his laugh faded into the moment and he looked at me, the remnants of a smile still on his lips. It was then I felt it. An indescribable sensation at the time, but something I would soon come to know as an energy. A force with the power to take me under, willing or not. His gaze lingered on mine for a moment, a brief, fleeting, substantial moment, and then the connection was gone. His friends enveloped him in their attention and I watched as the group returned to their table at the other end of the bar. This wouldn’t be the only time I’d see him—a fate I’m still not certain was a blessing or a curse.
Three years have passed since that summer I spent at Sara’s family beach house in a town so small South Carolina needn’t have bothered putting it on the map. Three months we were there. Sara on summer break from law school, me on break from my life. You see, artists are never truly satisfied unless they are immersed in their passion, and graduating with an accounting degree because you’re too chickenshit to pursue what you really want doesn’t exactly pave the road to creativity. A free summer financed by Sara’s parents was just too good an opportunity to pass up. I left that office with my pitiful little box of belongings before common sense had a chance to do its job. I promised myself this wouldn’t be a mistake. The time I would spend on hiatus from nothing would clear my head and I would know in which direction to go.
When I made the decision I had no way of knowing what that summer would bring. I wouldn’t have been able to imagine the things I’d be capable of, the lengths to which I’d end up going. The intensity with which I would yearn. I had no way of knowing about him. The problem with addiction is you crave what you need—whether it’s good for you or not.
So, I’ll tell you my story but you must promise not to judge, for what you’ll hear will not always paint me in the best light. I will come off, at times, as a woman who should have known better. I was told, after all. But if you allow yourself to succumb to a dark place, if you become truly lost, you will do anything…anything to end the pain—if only for a moment.
Excerpt Thursday: Hook Me!
Thursday, November 11th, 2010Let me know if you’re hooked by THE DEBUTANTE’S DILEMMA. A commenter will win their copy of Elyse’s ebook!
One woman in search of passion
Miss Cecilia Hastings has achieved what every young lady hopes for during her first London season…in duplicate! She’s caught the eye of not one but two of England’s most eligible bachelors. Both Jeremy Battersley, Earl of Henley, and Richard Huxley, Duke of Wexford are handsome, wealthy and kind, the epitome of proper gentlemen. But Cecelia doesn’t want proper, she wants passion. So she issues a challenge to her suitors: a kiss, so that she may choose between them.
Two men in love with the same woman
Friends since childhood, and compatriots on the battlefields of Spain, falling for the same woman has set Jeremy and Richard at odds, and risks destroying their friendship forever. But a surprising invitation to a late-night garden tryst soon sets them on a course that neither of them could have anticipated. And these gentlemen quickly discover that love can take many forms…
Available now from Carina Press and E-book retailers.
~*~*~
THE DEBUTANTE’S DILEMMA by Elyse Mady
Word Count: 22,000 Format: eBook
Now Available from Carina Press
***
He shouldn’t have left.
Not like that.
As he sat in the darkness of his swaying carriage, Jeremy Battersley swore and slammed his clenched fist against the deep leather squabs. The look on Wexford’s face when he’d cut him tonight ate at him and yet, despite his disgust, he knew there’d been no other course.
Not when he was being eaten alive by such molten, spewing jealousy.
Jeremy was still man enough to be ashamed of such low feelings, even if he could not control their aim. But it gave him little comfort, for he knew their days of friendship were numbered and it grieved him deeply.
He was not a man who spoke easily of his feelings and never had been. His father’s early death, shortly before he arrived at Eton, had left him wary and distrustful of laying open his affections, still mourning as he’d been the passing of a well-loved parent. Jeremy learned too quickly that many of the boys were merely interested in currying the favour of a newly appointed peer and cared not at all for the boy behind the weighty titles, the friendship they’d offered contingent on self-interest or vanity. But Wexford had been different.
A tall lanky boy, his dark hair always askew and his nose generally buried in a book of Latin prose, he’d never tried to insinuate himself into Jeremy’s good graces. Of course, two minutes leafing through Debrett’s peerage would show Dick Huxley had no need to toad eat, standing as he did to inherit titles and wealth that rivalled, if not exceeded his own. Steady, ferociously clever and loyal, these were all words that described his best friend and they were attributes that had not changed in the intervening years. Somehow the mournful little boy and the abstracted young scholar had become friends and friends they had stayed.
Until now.
It wasn’t surprising really, the complication they now found themselves in, when you looked at the situation with a dispassionate eye. Their taste in women had always been remarkably similar. They both admired clever, handsome women, who carried themselves with grace and could express themselves with wit and intelligence. Sensuous women who, through looks and presence, proclaimed their interest in love and bed play and physical sensation.
Cecilia Hastings offered all of these things and more, though her potential for lovemaking was entirely unconscious and untried. In fact, that made her even more deadly, for the possibility of being the man to unleash that latent desire had been enough to keep him rock-hard for weeks on end.
He remembered Wexford’s expression when he’d first told him about Cecilia. They’d been playing billiards in Jeremy’s fine home in Grosvenor Square, as they had done a thousand times before. On a normal night, they were well-matched but his mind still fixed on the haunting beauty he spied that morning at court, he played abysmally, his shots careening across the table with all the effectiveness of a blunderbuss against a French cavalry charge.
“Are you quite well?” his friend had asked, as another ball missed its mark so widely that it hadn’t even threatened the pocket towards which he’d been nominally aiming.
“I think I am in love,” Jeremy said, the words startling him even as he knew them to be true.
His stunning admission had elicited nothing more than a raised eyebrow from Wexford and hadn’t disrupted his ability to make his shot in the slightest, either.
“Indeed?” he said, moving round the low table to size up his next approach. Wexford paused, considering the lay of the balls on the hot-pressed felt, and chalked his tip. “And what do you love most about this lady? Her tragedy? Her comedy? Or perhaps it is her ability to sing light opera?” He leaned over the table as he spoke and carefully stroked his shot in preparation.
“Her feathers. Her white ostrich feathers.”
Balls had scattered and skipped across the table when Wexford’s cue plowed into the felt at Jeremy’s steady statement. Because without another word being spoken, they knew, as anyone who spent any time amongst the Ton must know, what that simple avowal meant.
~*~*~
About the author, Elyse Mady:
An enthusiastic and voracious reader of everything from 18th century novels to misplaced cereal boxes, Elyse has worked as a freelance magazine writer for the past several years. Her first work of fiction, The Debutante’s Dilemma, was published by Carina Press in November, 2010.
She blogs at www.elysemady.wordpress.com about writing, research and romance novels, both historical and contemporary. You can reach her by email at elysemady@cogeco.ca or find her on Facebook and Twitter (@ElyseMady) for updates and upcoming titles .
Excerpt Thursday ~ Hook Me!
Thursday, August 26th, 2010THE SERGEANT’S LADY ended up being a September Top Pick long after Susanna received this day to have her excerpt posted. Do after you finish reading the excerpt, you may also want to check out Danielle’s review.
Click to purchase
Highborn Anna Arrington has been “following the drum,” obeying the wishes of her cold, controlling cavalry officer husband. When he dies, all she wants is to leave life with Wellington’s army in Spain behind her and go home to her family’s castle in Scotland.
Sergeant Will Atkins ran away from home to join the army in a fit of boyish enthusiasm. He is a natural born soldier, popular with officers and men alike, uncommonly brave and chivalrous, and educated and well-read despite his common birth.
As Anna journeys home with a convoy of wounded soldiers, she forms an unlikely friendship with Will. When the convoy is ambushed and their fellow soldiers captured, they become fugitives—together. The attraction between them is strong—but even if they can escape the threat of death at the hands of the French, is love strong enough to bridge the gap between a viscount’s daughter and an innkeeper’s son?
~*~*~
THE SERGEANT’S LADY ~ Susanna Fraser
Release Date: August 23 – Carina Press
In this scene from early in The Sergeant’s Lady, the hero, Will Atkins, and the heroine, Anna Arrington, have just begun to get to know each other and are seated in the shadows just beyond the light of an army campfire where Will’s fellow soldiers are singing and telling stories.
Fiddle and flute took up a new tune, Scottish, fast and infectious. It reminded Anna of her girlhood at Dunmalcolm, of being sixteen and dancing to the skirling music of bagpipes with her cousins and the neighbors’ sons in the castle ballroom. Her toes tapped of their own accord, and she saw that Sergeant Atkins’s did the same.
Impulsively she sprang to her feet and extended her hands. “Dance with me, Sergeant,” she ordered.
“No, ma’am. That wouldn’t be fitting.”
She beckoned again. “No one can see us here. Pretend we’re at your squire’s harvest dance, if you like.”
“But to a song like this, with a lady such as yourself? Not fitting at all.”
“What’s wrong with this song? I’ve never heard one more made for dancing.”
In the faint moonlight, she could just see his raised eyebrows. “You haven’t heard the words.”
She tossed her head. “I don’t care what the words are. I must dance.” Where was the harm? No one but the two of them would ever know. Anna longed for even a brief release from the tense propriety that had ruled her marriage and reigned over her still in widowhood. “Please, Sergeant Atkins,” she implored.
He shook his head again, but rose and took her by the hand. His grip was warm and strong. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With Sebastian she’d learned to separate her body from her mind and heart—to touch and be touched without feeling anything. So the jolt of warmth that shot down her spine at the sergeant’s touch stunned her. Perhaps this was unwise.
No. It felt too wonderful. She wanted to laugh with pure joy. It was only a dance. How dangerous could it be?
At a ball they would have joined a line or square with other couples, barely touched and followed a prescribed set of steps. Outside that framework Anna hardly knew how to follow through on her own mad scheme. Fortunately, once persuaded, her partner took the lead. He caught her about the waist with one hand, clasped her hand with the other and whirled her into a series of quick steps.
The soldiers by the fire began to sing—something about a trooper lad arriving in town weary with riding on a moonlit night. Oh, this was more like it! Her sergeant was a grand dancer. Even in the dark, on unfamiliar ground, dancing in a close hold, she trusted his surefooted guidance.
The singers reached the chorus. Bonny lassie, I’ll lie near you, hey bonny lassie, I’ll lie near you. Anna flushed, but she had expected a bawdy song from Sergeant Atkins’s warnings.
The next verses told how the lassie took the horse to the stable and the trooper to her table and fed them each their dinners. Anna looked up. In the moonlight she could see a twinkle in her partner’s eyes, and he grinned at her. Despite his initial reluctance, he was enjoying this too. She let the music carry her along, feeling as if she were flying. Every time he pressed his fingers against her waist to guide her she shivered. She felt the sergeant’s stripes sewn onto the sleeve of his rough wool jacket and beneath it the strong, lean muscles of his arm.
She went upstairs to make the bed,
And she made it soft and easy.
She’s pulled her petticoats o’er her head,
Crying, soldier, are you ready?
Anna gasped.
Sergeant Atkins laughed. “Told you.”
“You did,” she admitted.
“It gets worse.”
How was that possible? This was scandalous—but she had all but forced it upon him. She could not in justice complain.
Excerpt Thursday ~ Hook Me!
Thursday, August 19th, 2010So tell me, were you hooked? Leave a comment and double your chances of winning 5 books from Thursday’s selection of The Season One Year Anniversary Giveaway.
.
Ace pilot Jace Vernon is forced to flee his home world after being framed for murder. He seeks justice, but S.I.N. agent Silver Malloy gets in his way. The platinum-haired beauty counters his every move in the quest to clear his name. As he makes it his mission to break down her defenses, he doesn’t count on the personal consequences of success.
Silver refuses to abort her deadly mission even if it means killing the one man Jace needs alive to prove his innocence. Her resolve wavers when Jace’s charms melt the barriers around her heart. Can she help him win his case, even if it means betraying her family and ruining her career?
~*~*~
SILVER SERENADE ~ Nancy Cohen
Release Date: July 16 2010 – Wild Rose Press
Despite the coolness of the woods, sweat dribbled down the back of Silver Malloy’s neck. Her muscles ached from hours spent in a crouched position, but stealth mattered more than comfort. She’d waited for this opportunity for months—no, make that years—and wasn’t about to lose it due to a lapse in technique.
This first kill might be her last, but at least she’d complete her revenge.
Using her rifle scope, she scanned the dusty street that stretched below her hillside vantage point. The few scruffy inhabitants who trudged between the ramshackle buildings didn’t interest her.
A lucky tip had brought her to Al’ron, a watering hole for space travelers. Those who visited here were not often welcome elsewhere. They came to buy arms, men, and equipment to carry out lawless raids against innocent victims, and Tyrone Bluth had earned the reputation as the cruelest bandit of all.
Silver couldn’t wait to end his reign of terror.
Raucous bird cries and the drone of insects rang in her ears, augmented by the auditory sensors in her gold drop earrings. She ignored them─her concentration centered on the only saloon in town.
Squinting, she watched the set of double swinging doors, eager for the slightest hint of movement. The spicy scent of tangleberries tickled her nose. She stifled a sneeze, unwilling to lose focus, even for a moment.
Someone staggered from the saloon. Her pulse accelerated as she recognized Bluth, the leader of Tyrone’s Marauders. He sported a wide-brimmed black hat, militia-style clothes, and a weapons belt bristling with armaments. A hostile scowl creased his ugly face, a face that had haunted her dreams forever.
Shutting one eye, she took careful aim through the targeting sight of her TechVix LD-6 Sharpshooter Special.
Her gut clenched, and she steeled herself to fire. Just as her finger twitched on the trigger, a shadowy figure dove into her. The impact knocked her to the ground. She dropped the rifle, but not before it discharged a wild shot.
A heavy weight toppled across her body, forcing her spine down against the packed earth. Tiny pebbles dug into the small of her back. Brittle pine needles pierced her skin. So much for the protective jumpsuit she’d worn.
“Let me up.” She shoved at the bulk immobilizing her. Unable to break free, she aimed a string of expletives toward the man whose furious green eyes glared down at her.
“Who the devil are you?” he demanded, his thick dark brows inched together in an angry scowl.
“I could ask you the same.” Silver’s hand scrabbled in the dirt, searching for her fallen weapon. “Are you one of Bluth’s men?”
“No.” His thighs pressed her firmly to the ground.
“Then get off me so I can finish what I started.”
“Only after you tell me why you’re here.”
Panic seized her as she faced the possibility of failure. “All I need is one clear shot, then we’ll talk.” She thrust at his broad chest, but he wouldn’t budge.
“If you’re worried about Bluth getting away, it’s too late.”
“What?” Silver lifted her head to peer over the crest of the hill. Sure enough, Tyrone Bluth was nowhere in sight.
The villain had torn apart everything meaningful in her life, and now she’d lost her chance to even the score.
Rage clouded her vision. “I don’t know who you are, but you’ve no right to interfere.”
His lip curled. “Is that so?” His attention shifted to a spot beyond the ridge, then he lowered his face close enough for her to see the brown flecks in his irises. “Be quiet. Bluth’s patrol is searching the area.”
Gritting her teeth, she gave him an appraising glance. Taut angles highlighted his bone structure, emphasizing a patrician nose and a jaw set at an arrogant pitch. Jet black hair swept in tousled waves to his nape. Slicked back from a wide forehead, its style proclaimed he was a man who couldn’t be swayed from his purpose.
With her smaller frame, she doubted the defensive tactics she’d learned during training would be effective. He looked like a guy who could counter her every move.
Minutes ticked by while he pressed against her in a manner that made unwanted awareness flood through her.
Excerpt Thursday ~ Hook Me!
Thursday, August 12th, 2010So let me know if you’re hooked!
CHASING THE TRUTH
As an assistant on a powerful racing team, Emma-Lee Dalton wants to prove herself in the thrill-a-minute NASCAR world—and impress Holt Forrester, the man she can’t stop thinking about.
But when she gives Holt the inside track, unaware of his real agenda, she falls hard and fast for him. Now she needs her billionaire boyfriend to admit the truth about everything—including how he feels about her.
.
~*~*~
WHAT HE DIDN’T SAY ~ Chasing the Truth – Carol Stephenson
Release Date: August 1, 2010 – Harlequin NASCAR
He’d been lying to himself, Holt Forrester conceded as he dodged three men chest-bumping in the graveled parking area by the New Gorge River. Minutes earlier the trio had parachuted together to a flawless bull’s-eye landing. “Congratulations,” Holt called out without stopping.
Had he really thought he could handle the crush of people in attendance today? Managing his investments based on cold, hard data was one thing. Directing a tired mother with a wailing toddler to a port-a-potty was totally outside his comfort zone. Still…
Pausing, he glanced up to the gleaming span of bridge eight hundred and seventy-six feet above. Another jumper yelled a battle cry as he somersaulted off the platform. Moments later a white parachute popped open against the blue sky. Holt smiled.
Unbelievable. He’d actually done it. He’d pulled off the fund-raising event for breast cancer without a hitch. All the months of convincing everyone in the West Virginia government from the governor to the Division of Highways to allow this special day of BASE —bridge, antennae, spans or earth— jumping had paid off.
The adrenaline buzz of his own jump still pumped through Holt along with pride and satisfaction.
He had known those adventurers who thrilled to parachute free falls wouldn’t be able to resist the lure of a legal jump off the second highest bridge in the United States. All in the name of a good cause, the ‘Amanda Forrester Jump for Cancer’.
An event to honor his mother. He’d been only twelve when she had lost her battle to breast cancer, but the memories of her efforts to maintain a normal life for him and his father despite her pain remained seared in his soul.
The latest jumper splashed into the river. Volunteers gunned motorized inflatable rafts and raced toward the man to pluck him from the water.
Holt released a sigh of relief. So far the event had gone without any major injury to any of the participants. Only a cut here, a bruise there.
The only other thing that would make this day perfect would be to meet the woman with the smoky-warm voice who had called him from Double S Racing. Emma-Lee Dalton.
He looked around for his assistant. Ted would know if she had registered. He might not be able to find her in this crowd, but surely she would be at the auction following the jumps. Double S Racing had been more than generous in its donation of NASCAR racing memorabilia, and Holt suspected that the very enthusiastic Ms. Dalton was largely responsible. He wanted the opportunity to thank her in person…and see if the woman matched the voice, he admitted.
“Hey, Holt!” Stan Preston hurried toward him. “Did you see all NASCAR bumper stickers in the lot?”
“Yes, I did.”
Stan huffed to a stop. The older, heavier set man wore carefully-creased khaki’s, a blue oxford-collared shirt and navy windbreaker. He pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket and mopped his brow.
“Wasn’t I right about NASCAR? The fan loyalty is incredible. Once I got the word out that the organization had donated items for the auction, the fans hotfooted here.”
“You were right, Stan.” Not only had Holt been impressed with the man’s contacts at NASCAR, but he’d been amazed by the surge of registrations after the auction announcement.
The man beamed. “You understand now why a NASCAR sponsorship would be a smart business move for your launch of the new software line?”
“I’d be a fool not to.” Holt had met the insurance magnate when Stan had consulted with him about developing computer programs. When Stan had gotten it in his head that he wanted to start his own NASCAR team, Holt had been one of the first he’d hit up for sponsorships. A sponsorship seemed to be good business, but Stan’s new team might not be a good fit.
Holt never jumped into a deal, which is how he made his millions. He needed more data before he made his decision. He hadn’t even divulged to Stan the true nature of his latest computer venture. Although the Internet was alive with rumors, he was keeping the game under wraps for now.
“Holt.” Stan looked concerned. “When I was checking out the auction, I noticed several items from Double S Racing. The owner Gil Sizemore isn’t wooing you as a sponsor, is he?”
No point mentioning to Stan that he had found himself flirting with the Double S’s representative.
Excerpt Friday ~ Hook Me!
Friday, August 6th, 2010Read and let me know if you were hooked? I definitely was and I love the cover!
~*~*~
Turn of the century novelist Lilly Westbrook learns that being faithful to her calling means more than just putting pen to paper.
It’s the summer of 1899 in Newport, Rhode Island, and Lilly Westbrook is struggling to conceal her career from family and friends because of the stigma attached to dime novels. Lilly feels good about her secret—after all, she’s enlightening working class girls with her books and honoring God by using her talents to His glory.
But her secret is threatened when Jackson Grail, a former suitor, becomes Lilly’s new publisher. He’s determined to revive his floundering publishing house by maximizing their most promising–and most secretive–author. His plan? Find “Fannie Cole” and convince her to go public.
When a gossip columnist discovers Lilly’s true identity, she finds that being faithful to her calling involves more than just putting pen to paper. It requires that she stand up for her faith and for herself, no matter the consequences.
LOVE ON A DIME ~ Cara Lynn James
Release Date: June 8, 2010 ~ Thomas Nelson
Excerpt
Lilly rushed up the carpeted staircase, anxious to vanish into the sanctuary of her bedroom. Her heart tumbled end over end. She stopped before she reached the landing and forced air into and out of her lungs as rhythmically as she could manage. Still, her bosom heaved as if she ’d run several miles in a tightly laced corset.
After six years, she never expected to see Jackson Grail again.
What nerve to show up on her doorstep when he surely must know his appearance would upset her. Her heart burned at the memory of him declaring his love and then casting her aside with only a lame explanation.
“You left so suddenly.” Jack’s deep voice startled her. She turned her head and spotted him at the foot of the stairs. “Did I say something to offend you, Lilly?”
She clutched the stair rail. “Not at all,” she fibbed. Why was he following her? The item in Talk of the Town coupled with Jack’s sudden appearance stripped her of every ounce of composure. She needed solitude to think and absorb all the bad news of the day.
“Then I’m sorry for my mistake. I thought you seemed distressed.” Jack inclined his head, but he didn’t turn to leave.
Lilly hesitated, and then regained her manners. “I’m afraid I haven’t been particularly welcoming, and I apologize for my behavior. Will you forgive me?”
“Yes, of course. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, but thank you for your concern.” She waited for him to bow and depart, but he continued to stare at her, his eyes brimming with—what? Embarrassment? Regret? She couldn’t tell.
He nodded as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Would you mind stepping outside for a few moments? I have something to tell you I should have said long ago.”
Lilly shook her head, but felt her resolve weakening. “No, I’m sorry. I do have letters to write . . .”
She wasn’t ready for any more revelations today. Was he about to apologize for his departure or offer an explanation for why he failed to maintain any sort of relationship since then? Later, when she prepared herself to accept his account calmly and without bitterness,
she’d listen. But not yet.
“Can’t your correspondence wait? I promise I won’t take up much of your time.”
Curiosity overcame her better judgment. Slowly she descended the stairs, clutching the rail for support. When she reached Jack, she refused to slip her hand into the crook of his arm. He raised his brows, but she ignored his questioning look. Her knees shook as they passed through the veranda and out onto the lush back lawn.
“Shall we walk to the beach?” he suggested.
Lilly nodded and pointed to a small sandy cove hollowed out between mounds of granite that jutted into the surf.
They strolled silently across the lawn and stopped where the grass edged a narrow strip of wet, silvery sand. Wisps of downy clouds floated across an azure sky which touched the royal blue ocean. A breeze shook the leafy skirt of a nearby elm tree and stirred the wild red roses blooming all along the shore. Their perfume blended with fresh, salty air, heavy and humid. With her hand shielding her eyes from the glare of the noonday sun, Lilly lifted her gaze to Jack.
Her heart fluttered, just as it always had when she looked at him. The years faded away and she saw the same broad-shouldered man who towered above her and moved with an athletic agility. A lock of his raven hair blew across his forehead. He pushed it back unsuccessfully, obviously unaware of his boyish appeal mixed with a strong, masculine allure. He’d grown more handsome now that he was approaching thirty, though age had crinkled the laugh lines around his dark brown eyes. Instinctively, Lilly knew to guard her heart.
“What did you want to tell me, Jack?”
RSS Feed
