Spotlight on Sunday

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Spotlight on Lady in the Grove

Lady in the Grove

By Jane Charles

When Orion Drakos was told that not only was a mysterious lady in the grove, but that she lived there, he knew that he must investigate, even though she was likely the imagination of a child. After all, Nightshade Manor had been in his family for generations so certainly he would know if someone was living there. What he learns, however, is that the lady isn’t the only secret that had been kept from him.

Lady Nina Jourdain has lived in the Sacred Grove of Nightshade Manor for most of her life. For the most part she had been content. She also could not leave.

Links: https://books2read.com/u/bWp9nD

Excerpt:

On the steps near the water, with sunlight cast upon her from a break in the trees, a redhaired young woman sat reading. A rich emerald skirt of silk or satin fell about her, as well as an underskirt of orange. A scarf of deep blue wound around her neck and trailed down her back. Not only were her shoulders bare, but so was the foot that stuck out from beneath her skirts. And if Orion wasn’t mistaken, the garment covering her breasts and abdomen was a corset of cream and gold.

He blinked and wondered if he was the one with the vivid imagination.

Consumed with curiosity, Orion was nearly pulled toward the temple and the woman within when his boot snapped a twig in his quest.

The young woman’s head jerked up and he sucked in a breath. The vision, sitting on the step of the folly was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Red hair curled about her shoulders, light eyes stared at him, full, pink lips parted in shock as her perfectly rounded cheeks lost all color.

Slowly she closed her book, set it aside and stood.

“Why are you here?”

“Nephele mentioned the lady and I thought to meet her myself,” Orion answered as he drew closer.

The woman shifted her eyes to Nephele and offered a stern glare, but Orion was mesmerized by her. He had thought her eyes were blue given they were light in color, but they were grey, and growing stormier by the moment.

Nephele glanced down. “I know you were to be a secret. I am sorry.”

“Why must you remain a secret?” Orion asked.

The woman speared him with her pewter eyes. “It is best if I am. Now please, go away.”

“Not until I know your name.”

Her grey eyes shifted, taking in the top of his head down to his Hessians before meeting his eyes once again. “Is it so important?”

“It is to me.”

“If I give you my name, will you go away?”

Orion didn’t want to tell her yes. He had too many other questions.

“No.”

“Then I shall go.”

She bent, picked up her book and turned. Her back straightened and her chin lifted as she crossed to the opposite side of the folly. Orion hurried forward, hoping to catch the lady before she disappeared.

“Wait,” he called.

She paused and glanced over her shoulder, grey eyes narrowed, a thin auburn eyebrow arched.

“Where did you come from?” Orion asked.

“Good day.” The woman then hurried down the steps and away from him.

Orion rushed up the steps nearest him, but by the time he reached the other side of the folly and the worn path he assumed she had taken, the lady had already disappeared. He would have still pursued her if the path hadn’t then branched off in two separate directions. With no idea which way to go, Orion slowly returned to the folly with the weight of disappointment accompanying him.

Meet Jane Charles

USA Today Bestselling Author Jane Charles lives in the Midwest with her former marine, police officer husband. As a child she would more likely be found outside with a baseball than a book in her hand, until one day, out of boredom on a long road trip, she borrowed her sister’s romance novel and fell in love. Her life is filled with three amazing children, two dogs, two cats, community theatre, and traveling whenever possible. Jane may have begun her career writing romances set in the Regency era, but blames being a Gemini as to why she’s equally pulled toward writing Contemporary/New Adult as well as Historical romances.

https://www.janecharlesauthor.com

https://www.facebook.com/JaneCharlesAuthor

https://twitter.com/JaneAcharles

https://www.goodreads.com/shelf/show/jane-charles

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jane-charles

https://www.amazon.com/Jane-Charles/e/B0052V12QI

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Spotlight on Duke in Name Only

Duke in Name Only: By Caroline Warfield

Misfortune is an excellent teacher…
When Phillip Tavernash, Ninth Duke of Glenmoor, discovers his title is held fraudulently, he embarks on a journey to North America determined to succeed on his own. It doesn’t go well. He has no idea what a fish out of water he will be.
Nan Archer had to summon enough backbone to stand up to her father and older brother, who moved their family across the frontier every time civilization reached any clearing in which they’d made a stake. She has landed on the banks of the Mississippi and built something of her own, the tavern Archers’ Roost. She will go no further.
When Nan’s brother dumps a pathetic traveler, robbed, beaten, and wounded on her tavern floor, she takes him in as she would any wounded duck. That he called himself duke is cause for hilarity.
Attraction blooms easily, but can Phillip look past his life of privilege to find what he’s looking for deep inside himself? Can he convince her she’s the answer to his search?
Is he a duke or a bastard? Does it matter in the end?
Release 1 June.

Excerpt from Duke in Name Only

“So, who are you really?” demanded the ruffian at the rear of the canoe paddling through the changing currents of the Mississippi River. He spat over the side and grinned, gap-toothed, at his helpless passenger.

Wet, wounded, and weary, Phillip felt no humor whatsoever.

I’m the damned fool who walked away from the greatest house in Dorset, an army of servants, and great piles of money only to get bamboozled, robbed, and beaten into the bargain. Stupidity hurt worse than the bruises. The seeping wound in his side stuffed full of moss by his unlikely rescuer was another matter.

“I told you,” he groaned, his voice shaking with cold. He’d blurted out more than he should have in his delirium.

“Yer feisty for a man with nuthin’ but the shirt on his back at the mercy of a stranger’s kindness. Say the other again then. I need a laugh, and you sure as hell aren’t pulling your weight any other way,” the uncouth boatman demanded. A great mountain of a man, he smelled as foul as he looked—dirty, unshaven, dressed in filthy buckskins, with a nasty scar down one cheek.

Fair enough. Phillip sighed and forced the words drilled into him from his youth through shivering lips. “I am Phillip Roland George Arthur Tavernash, Sixth Duke of Glenmoor, Earl of Wentworth, Viscount Gradington, Baron Walsh.”

The boatman let out a bark of laughter so strong it rocked the boat. “Well, Artie, you’re entertaining. I’ll give you that. Folks may pay money to hear you say it with that fancy accent of yours. God knows you’re gonna need it.”

“What’s your name then? Perhaps I’ll laugh,” Phillip said, his voice growing weaker.

His companion didn’t answer. Experienced travelers told Phillip to expect the water of the great rivers, both the Ohio and the Mississippi, to be treacherous. No one warned him about pirates and swindlers.

The boatman put his back into his work and, with astonishing skill, neatly avoided a floating log that threatened to collide with them. He maneuvered the canoe through swirling eddies, slid around into a calmer channel, and guided the canoe south with the current.

“Luke Archer,” the ruffian replied a moment later. “The one you can thank when I drag your worthless carcass ashore.” He said nothing else, or if he did, Phillip didn’t hear it.

Several hours—or perhaps days—later, sharp pains brought him to awareness as he was dragged from the canoe, thrust over the man’s shoulders, and carried a short distance.

“Nan! Get yourself over here. I brought you a wounded duck!” his rescuer shouted as he dropped Phillip to a rough floor. Heat enveloped Phillip before, blessedly, the world went dark again.

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Spotlight on One Perfect Dance

Hurrah! My second book in A Twist Upon a Regency Tale is out on Thursday. Buy it now at only 99c.

One Perfect Dance

Elijah was the man Regina could never forget. Now he is back in England, but someone wants to kill him.

Regina Paddimore puts her dreams of love away with other girlish things when she weds her father’s friend to escape a vile suitor who tries to force a marriage. Sixteen years later, and two years a widow, she seeks a husband who might help her fulfil another dream—to have her own child.

Elijah Ashby escapes his abusive step-family as soon as he comes of age, off to see the world. Letters from his childhood friend Regina are all that connects him to England. Sixteen years later, now a famous travel writer, the news she is a widow brings him home.

Sparks fly between them when they meet again. Regina begins to hope for love as well as babies. Elijah will be happy just to have her at his side. However, Elijah’s stepbrothers are determined to do everything they can—lie, cheat, kidnap, even murder—so that one of them can marry Regina and take her wealth for themselves.

Love and friendship must conquer hatred and spite before Elijah and Regina can be together.

https://amzn.to/3RMDcmI

Excerpt from One Perfect Dance

In a moment, she was a warm fragrant bundle on Ash’s lap, her curves draped across his torso, her arms wrapped around him, her face tucked into his shoulder as she cried.

He patted her shoulder, murmuring comfort. “There now. You’re safe now, Ginny. He’s gone. He won’t bother you again. I have you, my darling. I have you.”

He had not seen Regina so discomposed since she was a child, grieving the loss of a kitten. He wished he’d hit Deffew harder. He’d thought he and Charles were in time, but if the swine’s violation had gone beyond what he’d seen, the dog would die for it, Regina’s opinion notwithstanding.

Charles poked his head around the door, his eyes widening in alarm when he saw the state of his mistress. Ash pointed to the brandy decanter he could see on a sideboard. “Two,” he mouthed, ceasing his patting to hold up two fingers then resuming again, barely breaking rhythm.

Charles nodded and tiptoed to the decanter to pour two glasses of brandy, then tiptoed back across the room to place them on a side table next to Ash’s elbow, setting them down so carefully they did not clink.

Ash briefly wondered whether the young man wanted to save Regina the embarrassment of knowing her emotional collapse had been witnessed, or whether he feared she might expect him to do something about it if she knew he was there. Whichever it was, he faded back across the room and out of the door, pulling it shut behind him.

The footman was not important. Not when the lady he loved was in his arms, her soft curves molded to his body, the aroma of roses, honeysuckle and something indefinably Regina filling his nostrils. He yearned to hold her closer still, to show her how much he desired her, though the way her lovely rear pressed into his groin, she would notice soon enough.

She was still crying, but the angry storm was gone, fading into heart-wrenching sobs that twisted Ash’s gut even more than the initial outburst. “There now, Ginny,” Ash soothed. “Let it out, dearest. You’re safe now, my love.”

She turned her face up at that, drawing back so that her tear-drenched eyes could meet his. “Am I, Elijah?”

“Yes, of course. He has gone, and I won’t let him near you again.”

She thumped his chest softly, an action so reminiscent of the child Ginny that he had to repress a smile. “Not that,” she scolded. “The other.”

He retraced his words in his mind. “My love?” At her tiny nod, he repeated, “My love.”

She raised her eyebrows in question, the imperious gesture only slightly marred by the shuddering breath of a leftover sob.

“I love you, Ginny. Did you not know?”

She thumped him again, another gentle reprimand. “You never said,” she grumbled. “You never even tried to kiss me.” The last two words were disrupted by a hiccup, but he understood them well enough.

“I am abjectly sorry, Ginny,” Ash told her, managing to keep his voice suitably solemn while his heart was attempting to break out of his chest and into hers. She has been waiting for my kisses! Missing them, even. “I have never courted anyone before. I am clearly not very good at it.”

She hiccupped again as she put up a hand to cradle Ash’s cheek. “I am sorry to be so cross, Elijah. I hate hiccups. I hate crying, and it always give me the hiccups.” She proved it with another shuddering hiccup.

“Have a sip of brandy, beloved,” he suggested, and he picked up one of the glasses and held it to her lips. “It might help. And if it doesn’t, perhaps a kiss will cure them.”

Ash was very aware that she had not returned his declaration of love. However, she wanted his kisses. He would start there and hope for the best.

Ginny took the glass from his hand and had another sip, followed by another hiccup.

“It will have to be the kiss, then,” he suggested. He lowered his head to hers, slowly, giving her plenty of time to turn him away. Instead, she lifted her face to bridge the gap, her mouth reaching inexpertly for his.

He pressed kisses to each corner of her mouth, then settled his mouth over hers, stroking her lips with his. She clutched him, some of the brandy spilling from the glass so she drew back, apologizing with another hiccup.

Ash put the glass out of harm’s way and drew Ginny to him again. This time, he ran his tongue across the seam of his lips, seeking entrance. She hummed but didn’t open. If he hadn’t known she’d been a wife for more than three years before her husband’s accident, he would have thought she’d never participated in a kiss.

“Open for me, sweetheart,” he suggested, his lips still touching hers as he spoke.

“Open what?” she asked, and he took the moment to slip his tongue inside, into the soft warm cave of her mouth, gently teasing the sensitive skin inside her lips and at the roof of her mouth. She tasted as wonderful as she felt: a deeper richer version of the Ginny element of her perfume.

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Spotlight on His Spirited Lady

I always love it when I discover a new author who writes the kind of interesting, high stakes, informative stories that I love to read. When I came across His Enterprising Duchess, the first in this series, I loved it, and I preordered the second. Well. Let me tell you I am not disappointed. His Spirited Lady is even better. I’m hooked, and am already waiting for the third book. Peri tells me there’ll be more to follow. Woo hoo!

His Spirited Lady

Book 2 in The Enterprising Women

By Peri Maxwell

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Excerpt

“It is nice to see you again, Mr. Ferrand.”

Amelia Chitester’s dress matched her eyes, and the gold lace complemented her hair. Not for the first time, Richard wondered if dressmakers and their clients understood how a high waist and a perfectly placed bow made it impossible for men to ignore a low neckline. All but the most small-breasted young women benefited from the design.

“Miss Chitester.” Richard dipped his head. Other than the color, the dress was simple. This wasn’t a ball gown meant to be seen and admired. She, like her parents, was dressed for an evening at home.

Amelia wasn’t small breasted, something her riding habit had concealed. She was also shorter than he’d expected, given her parents’ heights. Her head stopped a few inches below his shoulder, which gave him a chance to admire her braids as he escorted her into dinner. She smelled of apples and cinnamon.

Dinner was laid out on the sideboard, allowing them to help themselves. Footmen helped them into their chairs and then retreated.

“Father can’t bear the fuss,” Amelia whispered as she placed her napkin in her lap. “He says it gives him indigestion when people watch him eat.”

No wonder Augustus and Oliver were good friends. “I’m sure the servants don’t mind escaping. I wouldn’t want to watch someone eat mutton and then go below for cold ham.” At least, that’s what he’d overheard aboard ship.

“Our staff has the same meal we do,” Amelia said. “Unless there’s a party, which, thankfully, we rarely do at home.”

“You don’t enjoy parties?” Didn’t all young women long for the Season in London and the social whirl? The ladies in Quebec were forever trying to recreate it.

“Why would anyone enjoy a mass of people traipsing about their home spilling punch on the carpet while judging their decorating choices?” She paused with her spoon in her soup. “My apologies. Of course I didn’t mean this evening; this is—”

“No offense taken.” Richard used his napkin to hide his smile. He enjoyed the decorations at Oakdale Manor, especially the lively one beside him. “I loathe punch. Unless it’s liberally mixed with whiskey, of course.”

“Whiskey makes everything better.” Amelia paused again. “At least that’s what Father says.”

The pause made Richard wonder if her knowledge wasn’t more first-hand, but one didn’t ask a young lady if she drank when no one was looking. In his experience, the only women who drank whiskey didn’t care if they were seen doing so.

“No Mr. Raymond today?” he asked, willing to change the subject to something she might find more agreeable.

“He left yesterday, back to London.” Her sigh sounded more satisfied than regretful.

“You didn’t enjoy his visit?”

“Have you ever had a puppy follow you home?” She looked up at him, and a pretty blush stained her cheeks. “That’s unfair. He is pleasant company, but we didn’t expect him to visit and we had…things to do.”

Richard was set to ask what she did when she wasn’t entertaining unwanted guests, but laughter caught his attention. Oliver was regaling Augustus with a tale of a childhood adventure, one he’d apparently undertaken with Thea given her objections to the retelling.

“I remember them like that,” Amelia murmured. “When they were younger.”

“They are difficult to ignore.” Not that their behavior was inappropriate, or even rude. It was just so clear that they were happy together. That they had always been happy together. Oliver even seemed younger.

“Gossip dogged them everywhere, especially after Oliver sailed for Canada.”

And found a wife there.

“It’s difficult, isn’t it?” Amelia’s hand closed over his, her gentle touch contrasting with his tight grip on his soup spoon. “Moving forward sounds better than it feels.” She smiled when Richard met her gaze. “I remember when Father brought Mother home. I enjoyed hearing him laugh again, but part of me was angry that he was going to replace my first mother, as though she’d never been there or hadn’t been important.”

Richard looked from the young woman next to him to her mother—stepmother—at the end of the table. “What changed?”

“It got easier with time.”

Richard grasped her fingers as they slid from his. Squeezed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She freed her fingers as her mother went to the sideboard for the main course. “Now, would you tell me about Canada? We always intend to travel there, but the Season prevents us from going until fall, which Father has heard is a poor time to visit.”

Buy Links 

Amazon: https://a.co/d/0OabOFR

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

Meet Peri Maxwell

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

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

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

Social links:

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

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

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Spotlight on If I Loved You

Matrimony Book 1

By Cerise DeLand

April 20, 2023 (Pre-order 99 cents)

Love does not advertise. Love counts no wrongs.

But when a young woman needs to escape an ogre, she’ll take an ad to find a man she can adore.

Verity Carr wants a new life in a new town far from her old home and the vile threat to her body and soul.

Can a gentleman to whom great wrong was done, build a new life with a true wife and leave the past behind?

Miles St. John Armstrong, Viscount Bellamy, vows to select his second wife with logic and careful investigation via advertisement.

Theirs is a relationship built quickly on admiration and trust. But their past comes to call. And it asks of them the ultimate question, can their love withstand the tempest and survive the terror?

BUY LINK: https://amzn.to/3nkslpf

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Spotlight on The Husband Gamble

This week, The standalone novella The Husband Gamble is published as part of the multi-author series The Wedding Wager. It stars my Earl of Hythe from To Wed a Proper Lady and A Dream Come True, and the runaway bride from The Abduction of Amaryllis Fernhill.

The universal link to purchase is: https://books2read.com/HusbandGamble

And here’s an excerpt:

Four days into the interminable week, Hythe had made no progress in his bride hunt. It had taken him the space of an afternoon to discover that Miss Thompson was an unkind shrew, and if he doubted his own experience, the men who knew her from London confirmed it. One by one, he spent a little time with each lady at the house party. This girl was too frivolous. That one was waspish.

In any case, he did not find himself in the least attracted to any of them. Surely it was not too much to ask that the woman to whom he would vow to be faithful for the remainder of their days was one he actually wanted to bed? He could not imagine physical intimacies with any of the ladies currently on offer.

Except Miss Fernhill. She had grown prettier day by day—not the flashy kind of beauty some of the others had, but a quiet loveliness that comprised her character as well as her features. Her attractions were manifold, and not least of them was her mind. She commanded his attention whenever she was in the vicinity. Even when she wasn’t, he could not stop thinking about her.

Perhaps he was making things worse by spending so much time with her. But nobody else here challenged him to think the way she did. When he succeeded in winning a discussion point with her, he felt as if he had persuaded the entire House of Lords— yes, and the Austrian and Prussian negotiators.

What an ambassador for Britain, she would have been, if she’d been a man. She knew several languages, understood the current political situation better most people of his acquaintance, male or female, and was invariably charming and composed.

The company that had been inclined at first to treat her with disdain was now, with few exceptions, thoroughly enjoying her company, and at least two of the gentlemen were seriously considering a courtship. Hythe felt she could do better than a penniless second son or a half-pay naval captain, but at least the lady would have choices.

 

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Spotlight on A Countess to Remember

A Countess to Remember

By Sherry Ewing

Patience, the young Dowager Countess of Seahaven has the weight of the world on her shoulders. With a bevy of stepdaughters under her care, a Season to find them all husbands is completely out of reach. But with the help of her family, they’ll scrap up enough money to see to a Season in York for the younger eligible daughters. Still… there’s been no chance at all for romance for Patience until fate intervenes. Will she allow herself time for love?

Richard, Viscount Cranfield has no desire to find a wife. He’s been perfectly content leading his carefree life until he’s charged with finding a suitable husband for his sister. He’ll travel to York for the Season only to become enchanted with a lovely young widow. Can he look past a ready-made family to possibly find love to fill his heart?

When several events have Patience and Richard crossing paths, she is hard pressed to forget her infatuation with the gentleman. Then there is the matter of her many responsibilities, along with Richard’s jealous ex-mistress who just may put an end to any sort of a relationship blossoming between Patience and Richard. Only time will tell if they can overlook their differences and allow love to conquer all.

Sometimes love finds you when you least expect it…

Released on 14 March: https://www.amazon.com/Countess-Remember-Sherry-Ewing-ebook/dp/B0BRK2DCS7

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Spotlight on The Raven’s Last Bet and a bonus book

The Raven’s Last Bet
By Cerise DeLand

She won’t be sold into marriage.
He won’t wed her for any amount of money. Only love.
If he can just figure out a way!

Harry Seymour arrives home from years of fighting abroad to learn he must clean up the family mess. His father demands Harry honor a deal he made with his best friend for Harry to marry the man’s daughter…for money.
Harry, who’s loved Sara Fleming since she was four, has no problem marrying her. He never did, even when she was denied him because she was the Whiskey King’s daughter.
But he won’t wed her for money.
Sara cannot accept the bargain her father made. She’s already left two men at the altar because she didn’t love either one. And if she can’t wed Harry for love, she’ll marry no one. But she wagers she’ll walk away a spinster…and happy if Harry will do her the favor of ruining her.
It’s a bet Harry can’t refuse.
Can he?
***

Bonus Book!

LORD STANTON’S SHOCKING SEASIDE HONEYMOON

She is so wrong for him.
Miss Josephine Meadows is so young. In love with life. His accountant in his work for Whitehall. Her father’s heir to his trading company—and his espionage network.
Lord Stanton cannot resist marrying her. But to ensure Wellington defeats Napoleon, they must save one of Josephine’s agents.
Far from home, amidst a horrific storm, Stanton discovers that his new bride loves him dearly.
Can he truly be so right for her?
And she for him?

 

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Spotlight on Lady Beast’s Bridegroom

 

Welcome to book 1 in the new series with an exciting new twist on traditional fairy tales!

Lady Ariel lives retired in the country after being badly scarred by a fire. She hides her burns from others by donning a mask, only enticing more gossip by Society who has dubbed her “Lady Beast”. Now, her second cousin, who inherited her father’s title but not his private wealth, wants to have her committed so he can manage—and steal—her fortune. Only finding a husband will prevent the cousin from having his way.

Peter, Lord Ransome, a man so handsome Society has dubbed him “Beau”, inherits not only his father’s debts but also his burdens. He must manage and care for a stepmother who loathes him, her daughters, and his own two half-sisters, who spend more money than the estate can provide.

His only recourse is to find a wealthy bride to save his estate and his family. For him, that means marrying “Lady Beast”. It’s merely a business transaction, after all. But then Beau learns that true beauty lies in the heart.

When Society tries to turn them away, is the union and love of Beauty and the Beast strong enough to overcome prejudice and rejection?

A Twist Upon a Regency Tale
Lady Beast’s Bridegroom
One Perfect Dance
Snowy and the Seven Doves
Perchance to Dream

Published this come week. Get it now! https://amzn.to/3uJByrr

Enter the contest: https://judeknightauthor.com/2023/02/09/week-3-of-lady-beasts-bridegroom-launch-giveaway/

Excerpt:

In his bath, Peter contemplated his own disappointment that he’d been exiled to another bedroom. He should be grateful that, after their first joining, she had removed the mask in the dark and gone to sleep in his arms. She had trusted him that much, and when she woke in the night and reached for him, he had had the joy of kissing her without any obstruction in the way. Which had led to round two.

In the morning, he woke to hear her behind the dressing screen, and when she returned to bed, the half mask was back in place. He expected too much, too soon. She had trusted him enough to give him her body. It would take time before she could bear to be naked with him.

The small bit of distance was to his benefit, too. This marriage was a civil arrangement. He did not intend to spoil it by becoming besotted with his bride.

He was already serving his breakfast when Arial arrived in the dining room. He had not been joking about his hunger. Despite the crumpets, he was ravenous.

And not just for food, he decided, when she entered the room and his male organ stood to instant attention. It seemed he could not get enough of his wife. It was probably just that he hadn’t been with a woman for a long time, though that thought seemed so disloyal that he quelched it immediately.

Whatever the reason for his sudden surfeit of lust, he had to content himself with a peck on the cheek and a cheeky comment whispered in her ear so the attending footman could not hear it.

Her blush would have to be satisfaction enough for the moment, especially as Miss Tulloch took that moment to join them.

The girls had already eaten but came hurrying down from the schoolroom when they heard the newly-weds were up and dressed. They were delighted with the day’s plans but took exception to Arial’s plain mask.

“But the one you made for my wedding will not go with this gown,” she protested. It was some tailored confection in a dark maroon, almost the color of a good port. Peter had signed for payment of enough dressmaker bills for his stepmother and stepsisters to know that daytime costumes could fit into categories of day dress, walking dress, and afternoon dress, but which this was he had no idea. It was charming, anyway.

Rose agreed. “Not at all, but we can do something quickly with pastels. I think some of the ones that old artist gave me are the right colors. Come on, Vi.”