If you receive The Season newsletter, you know that I’m counting down to Beverly Jenkin’s MIDNIGHT, which will release October 26th.

I met Beverly at the RWA Conference in Dallas in 2007. I was unpublished and frantically running around getting free signed books to add to my already hefty collection. Well, she could not have been more genuinely sweet to me, and I never forgot her kindness. So I’m ultra pleased to be able to feed you monthly excerpts as we countdown to MIDNIGHT.

Oh, and I have to tip my hat to Avon’s art department. Didn’t they do a fantastic job with Beverly’s cover? Seriously, this is singularly the most spectacular one I’ve seen on her historicals.

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In a time of peril, she fears nothing—except the forbidden passions of her heart.

In Boston, revolution is in the wind—yet none would ever suspect Faith Kingston of treason. But under cover of darkness, the beautiful daughter of a Tory tavern owner becomes the notorious spy “Lady Midnight,” passing valuable secrets to the rebels. Dedicated to fighting British tyranny, she’ll let nothing distract her—until a dark, mesmerizing stranger enters her life.

A reckless, worldly adventurer, Nicholas Grey has returned to troubled Massachusetts seeking revenge for the death of his rebel father. He suspects a local innkeeper, but it’s the man’s breathtaking, ebony skinned daughter who has truly captured his interest. Nicholas burns for the sensuous, secretive lady—and Faith cannot mask her own blazing desires. But when destiny unites their causes, the passion that draws Midnight into Nicholas’s arms is as dangerous as it is glorious—and it could spell disaster for them both.

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Excerpt

Boston

December 1774

PROLOGUE

Primus Grey waited in the dark behind his print shop for his contact to arrive. Although she’d passed him secret information about the British before, he was the only member of the Sons of Liberty to know her true identity. To the others she was known only as Lady Midnight, the code name he’d bestowed upon her in honor of the time she usually appeared. Quiet as a shadow and silent as the moonlight, she never tarried longer than the time it took to pass along whatever news she had to relay, and then she was gone. More than once, he’d been asked by the Sons to trail her in an attempt to learn who she might be, but in truth, he preferred they not know.  In the world of spies, the less they knew about her, the less likely she could be betrayed.

A bit past midnight, she arrived. “Good evening, Mr. Grey.”

“M’lady. What news have you?”

“Your name has come to the attention of General Gage. You should leave Boston immediately if you do not wish to hang for treason. I’m so sorry.”

He froze.

“Godspeed, Mr. Grey.”

Filled with alarm, he watched her fade into the darkness before hurrying back inside to gather what personal belongings he could, but it was too late. A pounding on the door made him look up.

A voice shouted, “Primus Grey!” The knocking grew louder.

Fighting to keep his voice even, he called out., “Who’s there?”

“Representatives of the King.”

He drew in a deep breath and walked over to open the door.

There were six of them, all wearing the red coats of the British army. It was a cold night and he could see the steam from their breaths in the dim light of the torch above his door. The sharp tips of their bayonets glittered ominously in the moonlight. “What do you want with me?”

“You are under arrest.”

“And the charge?”

“Treason for aiding the rebels against the King.”

His chin rose. “Let me lock my shop.”

They allowed him to do so, and once it was done, they surrounded him. Word of their mission must have spread because a crowd of angry citizens began to gather. Primus couldn’t tell how many strong they were, but by the lights of the torches lining the shops and homes on the narrow winding street, they appeared sizeable. Calls and curses began to rain down on the soldiers. Snowballs flew at their heads. The citizens of  Boston had grown weary of the presence of the King’s four thousand  troops who’d been stationed in and around the city for the sole purpose of putting down the growing rebellion.

“Let him go!”a male voice rang out.

“Bloody lobster backs!”cried out another.

Rrocks and snowballs flew, some hitting the soldiers who quickly responded by taking  up a defensive position around their prisoner. More people began to arrive, adding their voices and rocks to the fray.  The officer in charge raised his weapon and sent out a warning shot. The people moved back.  British soldiers had fired on a similar crowd back in March 1770, and when the smoke cleared, men lay dead, including Crispus Attucks, a mariner of mixed African and Nantucket blood.  In the five years since, the incident had become known as the Boston Massacre, and stood as of one the most grievous marks against the policies of the hated King George III and his equally despised Parliament.

Apparently no one wanted to die that night. The crowd continued to hurl curses, snowballs and chunks of ice, but the soldiers were allowed to leave with their prisoner.

Sounds good, right? It certainly left me intrigued and wanting to know what happens to Mr. Primus Grey. How about you, does it leave you wanting to read more? Comment to enter to win a copy of Lisa Kleypas’s Love In the Afternoon. Gosh, is that wrong? I should really have had an Avon book to giveaway.