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Archive for the ‘Guest Author’ Category

It’s a pleasure for me to have fellow Regency author, Wareeze Woodson, on the blog today with her new book, An Enduring Love!! Wareeze will also be giving away one copy of the book to one of you to tells her she wants it!!

First let me show you her lovely cover!!

Final-An-Enduring-Love-(med)

 

Now the blurb!

Born and raised in Latvia, Rebecca Balodis marries Rhys Sudduth, an English diplomat. Shortly thereafter, he is summoned home to attend his father’s death-bed. Rebecca cannot accompany him at the time and becomes trapped in the turmoil plaguing her country. He is informed she died in the upheaval.

Nearly four years later, she escapes and arrives in London with their son in tow. Arriving in the middle of his sister’s ball is very awkward, especially since Rhys plans to announce his betrothal to a young debutante later in the evening.

Trouble, tangled in suspense and danger, follow her from Latvia. Can this pair ever find or even recognize an enduring love? Is it worth keeping?

 

Instead of an excerpt, Wareeze has given us a letter which is part of the mystery of the book!

Letters discovered in the belongings of the villain. These letters are not revealed in the book but are held in my heart and give insight to the story. A tidbit solely for you. Enjoy.

Wareeze Woodson

The Year of Our Lord 1813

My Dearest Husband,

I write with my heart filled with sorrow. My beloved mother has passed on to join my father in Heaven. I can only be happy for her although sadness weighs me down. I am now acquainted with deep sadness and how you must mourn for your father. Grief makes it hard to write, but you deserve to know why I am delayed in departing this land.

At the moment, I am trapped in Latvia due to the up-rising in my country. I do not know how long it may be before I am allowed to travel to England to join you. There is a guard placed outside my gate to prevent my departure at present, but I will travel to Rica at the first opportunity and board a ship to London. Perhaps all will settle quickly. I can only pray it shall be so.

I cannot wait to be in your arms again, to kiss your dear face and gaze into your eyes once more. With words, you painted a lovely picture of your home in England and of your relatives. The thought of meeting your family holds much pleasure for me, especially since I am now alone.

Take care, My Love. I shall write to let you know as the hour of my departure grows closer. Keep safe and know you have my enduring love.

Buy Link: Amazon

Author Bio:

HeadshotI am a native of Texas and still live in this great state. I married my high school sweetheart, years and years ago. We raised four children and have eight grandchildren, and grandchildren are Grand. At the moment, all my children and my grandchildren live within seventy miles of our home, lots of visits. My husband and I still love each other after all these years the stuff romance is made of, Happy Ever After!

Website: http://www.wareezewoodson.com/

 

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Good morning! It’s been a busy couple of weeks! CongratulationsBut first I want to announce the winner of Grace Burrowes’s book!! Congratulations to Debbie Mccreary!!

 

 

 

 

Desiring Lady Caro

Desiring Lady Caro

 

Even though things are starting to slow down, I still have some blog stops left. Tomorrow I’m visiting Collette Cameron’s Blue Rose Blog with a giveaway. We’d love it if you’d stop by. Later in the week, I’ll be on Lady Smut, that should be interesting, and First Kiss. I’ll post the links on my Facebook page, as they go live.

There was some confusion about RomCom, completely on my part, I’m sure. They apparently would not allow a giveaway, so, I’ll have one. To be eligible, go by and post a comment here, and I will pick a winner.

 

 

 

Tomorrow morning I’m having orthoscopic surgery on my knee. It’s a fairly straight forward procedure, but I’ll ask for your prayers and good wishes anyway.

Now I’ll leave you with some pictures.

Magens in the morning 004

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Magens in the morning 003

 

 

 

 

 

 

Amber Waterfall

Amber Waterfall

Have a great week!!

Ella

 

 

 

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I’m so pleased to have the fabulous Grace Burrowes on my blog again!! After her tremendous success with her traditionally published books, she is dipping her toe into indie-publishing with her latest book, Trenton! Part of her well loved Lonely Lord’s series! Grace will giveaway one copy of Trenton to one of you who leaves a comment telling her you want the book!

So, without further to do, here is Trenton’s lovely cover!

Trenton

Trenton

Personally, I don’t need more than that! But here is the blurb:

After a short, troubled marriage Trenton Lindsey, heir to the Wilton earldom, becomes a widower with three small children. His year of mourning leaves him adrift, until his brother Darius forces him to take a repairing lease at Trent’s country estate. Social conventions require Trent to call on his recently widowed neighbor, Elegy Hampton, Lady Rammel, and as friendship develops, consolation of an intimate sort tempts them both. Just as Trent acknowledges the joy and pleasure to be shared with Ellie, an unseen enemy threatens him and Ellie, too. Can he reach for the love Ellie offers, when someone is trying to take his life?

Finally the excerpt:

Trenton: Lord of Loss

All the way to Wilton Acres, through the shady bridle paths and farm lanes of Surrey, to the busier thoroughfares and cultivated fields, into the rich farmland of Hampshire, Trent considered a single, unexpected kiss.

Ellie—in his mind, she was Ellie now—had murmured some quiet platitude in response to his blurting out his widowed status. She’d gamely resumed their negotiation thereafter, not even fixing herself a cup of tea until they’d agreed to meet upon his return from Wilton Acres and decide on details: She’d see to borrowing the stallion from Greymoor while Trent sent word to his solicitor to draft an agreement.

Then she’d walked him to the door of that cozy little parlor, leaned up, and kissed his cheek in parting.

And he, in a complete and irredeemable display of masculine miscalculation, had turned his head, to cadge another little whiff of her scent. Their mouths had brushed, caught, paused and then…

His mouth had come awake for the first time in years, startled into awareness by the unexpected softness of her lips on his. The rest of his body had followed at a roaring gallop, until he’d wrapped his arms around her, gathered her close, and reveled in a kiss so unneighborly, so unchaste, she’d been panting and dazed when he’d let her step back, likely horrified to the soles of her slippers.

Trent should have been horrified, too, and likely would be, when he had to see Ellie again, though first he hoped to talk himself out of wanting to kiss her exactly like that, over and over and over.

He’d been starving for such a kiss, going mad, shutting down, function by function, to cope with the ache of its loss from his life.

And he did ache, bodily, because Ellie had kissed awake his long-dormant lust, and now he could not argue or ignore it back to sleep. In hindsight, Trent could see all the instants she’d leaned on him or taken his arm, the times she’d been close enough to touch, the moments she’d allowed his body a little too near hers. His awareness had been stirring restlessly the whole while, threatening to come back to life, one sniff, one lean, one smile at a time.

Like a flaming spill touched to a well-oiled wick, a single kiss had him adjusting himself in his breeches two days later and completely unable to focus on the upcoming days at Wilton. Ellie’s taste haunted him, for he’d driven his tongue into her mouth with no thought to teasing preliminaries, no pausing to silently ask permission. That kiss had been the most aggressive, glorious, erotic kiss he’d ever bestowed on a woman, and she’d been too stunned to do more than allow it.

He dismounted and jogged beside his horse in an effort to exercise off his lust, though he was soon winded and back in the saddle. He’d gained another mile in the direction of Wilton Acres, and no distance at all from his memories of Ellie Hampton and the desire they inspired.

Buy Links:

Amazon ~ Kobo

 

 

 

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Please welcome fellow Regency author, Collette Cameron who is showing us her latest cover!!

 

TheEarlsEnticement3_850 3rd

Cover Reveal –The Earl’s Enticement

Coming May 28, 2014 from Soul Mate Publishing

A Regency-Scottish Historical

 

The Earl’s Enticement Blurb

 

She won’t be tamed.

A fiery, unconventional Scot, Adaira Ferguson wears breeches, swears, and has no more desire to marry than she does to follow society’s dictates of appropriate behavior. She trusts no man with the secret she desperately protects.

He can’t forget.

Haunted by his past, Roark, The Earl of Clarendon, rigidly adheres to propriety, holding himself and those around him to the highest standards, no matter the cost. Betrayed once, he’s guarded and leery of all women.

Mistaking Roark for a known spy, Adaira imprisons him. Infuriated, he vows vengeance. Realizing her error, she’s appalled and releases him, but he’s not satisfied with his freedom. Roark is determined to transform Adaira from an ill-mannered hoyden to a lady of refinement.

He succeeds only to discover, he preferred the free-spirited Scottish lass who first captured his heart.

 

Wendy Herrington pen name Collette CameronA bit about Collette

Award winning, Amazon best-selling, and multi-published historical romance author, Collette Cameron, has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master’s in Teaching. A Pacific Northwest Native, Collette’s been married for thirty years, has three amazing adult children, and five dachshunds. Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, the beach, trivia, birds, shabby chic, and Cadbury Chocolate. You’ll always find dogs, birds, quirky—sometimes naughty—humor, and a dash of inspiration in her novels. Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, or too many flowers. She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list.

 

 

Connect with Collette:

Website     Blue Rose Romance Blog   Twitter   Facebook

You can connect with Collette on Goodreads, LinkedIn, and Google+ too. Go to her website for the links, her email address, and mailing address.

 

 

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Please help me welcome historical romance author, and my good friend, Jenna Jaxon to the blog. Jenna writes from medieval to Victorian. Today she is spotlighting  Betrayal, the second book in her three book medieval serial. She will give away a copy of Betrayal to one commenter who tells her she wants the book! How easy is that?

First we’ll look at the cover.

Betrayal (3)

 

Here is the blurb.

Blurb:

After a night of passion with her betrothed, Sir Geoffrey Longford, Lady Alyse de Courcy is eagerly looking forward to her wedding.  But when Geoffrey is forced to marry another, a heartbroken and possibly pregnant Alyse finds herself in her own private hell. She must either gamble with her reputation or marry someone she does not love.

A reputed connoisseur of women, Thomas, Lord Braeton, has dallied with many ladies of King Edward’s court, although he has favored none.  However, as Geoffrey’s best friend, Thomas has sworn to serve and protect Alyse, an oath now sorely tested when he agrees to marry her—in name only—to guard her reputation. Yet, as they grow closer, and Thomas discovers Alyse’s sweet but spirited nature, he comes to desire a marriage in truth.  Can he overcome her memory of Geoffrey or is Thomas doomed to burn with passion for a woman he can never possess?

And an except.

“Thomas.” Alyse curtsied quickly, then blurted out the dread she harbored in her heart. “Is my lord well? Have you news for me?”

Thanks to Anne and Margaret’s tactless comments, she had become convinced that Geoffrey had fallen ill with Sir Roland’s ailment and was now himself hovering between life and death.

Avoiding her eyes, Thomas answered briefly. “Aye, my lady. When I left him, Geoffrey was well enough.”

While relieved at his words, a shadow still lay on her heart. If Geoffrey was not ill, why Thomas’s manner changed?   No longer the easygoing courtier, with the familiarity she had come to expect from him. What had summoned this aloof stranger? He was withholding something. She crossed to stand directly before him, laid a cold hand upon his arm, and gripped it. “Tell me.”

With a sigh he stared into her face, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and looked away.

That he could not bring himself to tell her filled her with terror. He said Geoffrey was well enough when he left. Her thoughts raced furiously, trying to make sense of so little information. When he left? And now?

Before she could question him further, he drew out a folded piece of parchment, sealed with blue wax and stamped with a signet ring bearing Geoffrey’s family crest. She stared at it.

“Geoffrey bade me place this in your hand and no other, my lady.” Thomas abruptly held out the missive. With an effort, Alyse took the letter.

Thomas sighed. “He also bade me be at your service, lady, had you need of anything.” He gave the parchment into her hand. As he did so, she looked into his eyes and recognized the same pity she had seen in the Princess Joanna’s eyes.

Panic made her arms weak and her fingers numb. She forced her shaking hands to break the seal.   Dread in her heart, Alyse unfolded the letter and began to slowly read the scratched and blurry words.

Author Bio:

Jenna Jaxon is a multi-published author of historical and contemporary romance.  Her historical romance, Only Scandal Will Do, the first in a series of five interconnecting novels, was released in July 2012. Her contemporary works include Hog Wild, Almost Perfect, and 7 Days of Seduction. She is a PAN member of Romance Writers of America as well as a member of Chesapeake Romance Writers. Her medieval romance, Time Enough to Love, is being published this summer as a series of three novellas. The first book, Betrothal, will release on April 19th.

Jenna has been reading and writing historical romance since she was a teenager.  A romantic herself, she has always loved a dark side to the genre, a twist, suspense, a surprise.  She tries to incorporate all of these elements into her own stories. She lives in Virginia with her family and a small menagerie of pets.  When not reading or writing, she indulges her passion for the theatre, working with local theatres as a director.  She often feels she is directing her characters on their own private stage.

She has equated her writing to an addiction to chocolate because once she starts she just can’t stop.

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Please help me welcome my friend, critique partner, and fellow Regency author Collette Cameron to my blog today. Collette is going to be talking about her series, has a special announcement and giving way a book. In order to win, just leave a comment saying you want the book!

A Series Without a Name

First, I want to thank Ella for hosting me today. It’s always such a privilege to be here, right smack dab in the middle of Regency happenings. I’m so honored to have her as a critique partner. I can’t get away with any historical inaccuracy. She’s a walking, breathing museum of facts, and I adore her.

Highlander's Hope

Highlander’s Hope

When I started writing, I knew I wanted to write a trilogy with a large cast of characters. Yes, I’ve been criticized for that, but I like large casts—as long as I can figure out who’s who. Thus,  Highlander’s Hope was born. I changed the title of my debut twice (The first two titles were heinous!) and after writing the other two books in the trilogy, The Viscount’s Vow and The Earl’s Enticement, I wish I had titled my first novel The Highlander’s Heiress. I’m actually going to use that title for another book …way down the line.

I thought I’d have The Earl’s Enticement cover to show off today, as well as links to the print version of Highlander’s Hope. Alas, as it happens in the publishing world, neither has occurred quite yet. I have seen the first two drafts of the cover, but I needed some changes made so it fit a wee bit better with the other two. There is a castle though!TheViscountsVow2_850

Anyway, I digress.

Ella suggested I do a post on the series, and since The Earl’s Enticement is releasing in May 2014, I jumped at the chance. Then it occurred to me, I’d always referred to those first three books as the Blue Rose Series, but that doesn’t really work. I do mention blue roses in each of the books, but I also mention stays and laudanum and chamber pots. Can you imagine?

I have another series I’m writing (Yes, based on several of the characters introduced in the trilogy). I’m much more organized this time. It’s called Highland Heather Romancing a Scot Series, and I decided on the titles of all six books before I began writing them. Triumph and Treasure is done, and I’m plugging away on Virtue and Valor. Why, oh why couldn’t I have been that organized with the first three books?

So, I’m having a contest for a series name for Highlander’s Hope, The Viscount’s Vow, and The Earl’s Enticement. I’m announcing it here, “Thank you, Ella!” and will continue to take suggestions on my blog, Facebook, and Twitter through the end of the month. The blurbs for the first two books can be found by clicking on their titles in this post.

Here’s the blurb for The Earl’s Enticement.

She won’t be tamed.

A fiery, unconventional Scot, Adaira Ferguson wears breeches, swears, and has no more desire to marry than she does to follow society’s dictates of appropriate behavior. She trusts no man with the secret she desperately protects.

 

He can’t forget.

Haunted by his past, Roark, The Earl of Clarendon, rigidly adheres to propriety, holding himself and those around him to the highest standards, no matter the cost. Betrayed once, he’s guarded and leery of all women.

Mistaking Roark for a known spy, Adaira imprisons him. Infuriated, he vows vengeance. Realizing her error, she’s appalled and releases him, but he’s not satisfied with his freedom. Roark is determined to transform Adaira from an ill-mannered hoyden to a lady of refinement.

He succeeds only to discover, he preferred the free-spirited Scottish lass who first captured his heart.

~~~

I can’t wait to see your suggestions!

Oh, and one commenter will receive a digital copy of either The Viscount’s Vow or Highlander’s Hope.

To connect with Collette, simple head to her website for all her social media links.

Collette Cameron

 

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Please help me welcome the lovely Christi Caldwell! Christi is here today to promote her next release, Never Courted, Suddenly Wed. She is also giving away one copy of the book. You know the rules to win, just leave comment saying you want the book.

Here is the cover.

Never Courted

Next the blurb.

Christopher, Earl of Waxham, has constructed a perfect image for the ton–the ladies love him and his company is desired by all. Only two people know the truth about Waxham’s secret. Unfortunately, one of them is Miss Sophie Winters.

Miss Sophie Winters has known Christopher since she was in leading strings. As children, they delighted in tormenting each other. Now at two and twenty, she still has a tendency to find herself in scrapes, and her marital prospects are slim.

When his father threatens to expose his shame to the ton, unless he weds Sophie for her dowry, Christopher concocts a plan to remain a bachelor. What he didn’t plan on was falling in love with the lively, impetuous Sophie. As secrets are exposed, will Christopher’s love be enough when she discovers his role in his father’s scheme?

And finally an excerpt!

Sophie crested a small grassy incline and stood arms akimbo, scanning the area. She froze. Duke, her fawn-colored pug, ran in circles about an enormous black mare. “Oh, Duke,” she groaned and raced down the slight hill.

Her race ended with a sharp gasp as her foot became entangled in the lace trim of her ivory gown. She threw her arms out to steady herself but it was too late; she tumbled forward, bouncing, and sliding until she landed with a thump at the base of the rise.

A coarse, salty tongue lapped her cheek. she turned her head to face the troublesome dog. “Oh, Duke. This is bad. This is very bad.” She could just imagine what Lady Ackerly’s Tattle Sheet would read tomorrow morning.

A towering figure leaned over her, blotting out her unfettered view of the late spring sky. “Are you hurt?” The gentleman dropped to a knee alongside her.

She swallowed. “No. I…” Sophie shoved herself up on her elbows and groaned. Of all the riders in Hyde Park, it would be her misfortune that Duke should stumble upon,
Christopher, Earl of Waxham; her childhood nemesis and the man her mother and brother intended to see her wed.

She’d  rather accept help from Lady Ackerly. “You.”

Christopher frowned. It was certain he wanted to be there even less than she wanted him there. “I should have suspected when this unattended fiend,” he jerked his chin in Duke’s direction, “nearly unseated me, that you were somehow behind it.”

Duke sat back on his haunches. His little pink tongue lolled out the side of his mouth and he yapped happily at the earl. Apparently the dog was a far worse judge of character than she’d credited.

“I’m certain your beast spooked him,” she said in defense of her precocious pug. After all, that fiend, as Christopher had referred to him, was a good deal more loyal than most people.

Christopher patted her dog upon the top of his head. And just as suddenly, yanked his fingers back, no doubt remembering his unreasonable abhorrence of poor Duke. She watched, stunned as he grasped the edge of her skirts.

“What are you doing, Christopher?” she hissed, stealing several glances at the nearby voyeurs. She could only imagine how the scandal sheets would report on this latest scrape she’d managed to land herself in.

Christopher followed the direction of her stare, and glowered at the people staring at Sophie’s prone form. “I’m inspecting you for injury,” he said, after their observers scurried off.
Her skin tingled from where his long fingers still clasped her ankle. She slapped his hand away, her heart hammering in the oddest way. “You mustn’t touch me. Not in public.” Not with said touch causing all the strangest, unfamiliar little sensations in her stomach.

Christopher grinned, and his attention shifted from her leg to her eyes. “Is that an invitation to touch you in private?”

Sophie slammed a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened. “You sir, are no gentleman.”

He gave a slow wink. “And running disheveled through Hyde Park, you hardly epitomize ladylike gentility.”

Well, he had her there. She wondered what the highly proper earl would say if he knew she was half seas over from alcohol she’d pilfered with a mystery gentleman the previous evening?

He cocked his head.

“What?” she blurted.

“I’m merely trying to interpret that mischievous glimmer in your eyes.” Christopher didn’t allow her an opportunity to respond, instead, leaned over her leg, and again reached for her ankle.

“I said, you mustn’t touch me.” Sophie was already going to be in a good deal of trouble with Mother and Geoffrey when she returned home. It wouldn’t do for them to find out she’d allowed Christopher to handle her person in a very public manner.
He glanced up with such alacrity, a black lock escaped the queue at the nape of his neck, and fell over his eye.

It was merely because he was trying to help her… and because it must be so very difficult for him to see…and the fact that he’d been surprisingly gentle with Duke, but Sophie gave in to the urge and brushed the lone strand back from his forehead.

Christopher’s whole body went still.

The heat of a virulent blush suffused her. “I…uh…imagined it was difficult to see and thought if I moved the hair from your eyes that you’d be able to see a good deal better and…” Be silent, Sophie. Be silent. She promptly closed her mouth.

Author Bio:

Twitter Picture Chrissy

CHRISTI CALDWELL blames Judith McNaught’s “Whitney, My Love!” for luring her into the world of historical romance. While sitting in her graduate school apartment at the University of Connecticut, Christi decided to set aside her notes and pick up her laptop to try her hand at romance. She believes the most perfect heroes and heroines have imperfections, and she rather enjoys torturing them before crafting them a well deserved happily ever after!
Christi makes her home in southern Connecticut where she spends her time writing her own enchanting historical romances, teaching history, and being a full-time wife and mother!
Website: www.christicaldwellauthor.com
Twitter: @ChristiCaldwell
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Christi-Caldwell/215250258658392

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I had the delightful pleasure of meeting Cheryl last summer. She is truly not only a great author, but a wonderful person!

Today Cheryl is her to introduce her new book, Love in the Library,  book 5 in her Brides of Bath series.  She will be giving away a copy, reader’s choice, of one book in the series to one lucky commenter who says they want it. How easy is that!

Here is the gorgeous cover. I love the period details.

Love in the Library

Love in the Library

Now the blurb.

The Beauty and the Scholar

The Brides of Bath are back! Scholar Melvin Steffington is just the man to help young widow Catherine Bexley recover her late husband’s nearly priceless manuscript. Little does either of them know that in their quest to regain the Chaucer, they will confront danger while fighting their growing attraction to one another.

The comical parts of this book will have the reader chuckling often.–Bookworm2Bookworm

Everything I’ve read by Cheryl Bolen has been a “keeper” and this latest in The Brides of Bath series is no different. — Past Romance

Historical note: The first three Brides of Bath were published in mass market paperback only in 2002, and due to their popularity, a fourth one was published in 2004. Long after they were out of print, they were reissued with new covers in 2011, and for the first time became available as ebooks.

And an excerpt.

Love in the Library (A new Brides of Bath novel)

By Cheryl Bolen

“Now we’re stuck in this room together,” Mr. Steffington said. “Why could you not have been my sister as we were at the Duke’s Arms last night?”

“But you are mistaken, Airy. I wasn’t actually your sister at Duke’s Arms.”

“You know what I mean.” Her gave her an I’d-like-to-gag-your-mouth-with-a-used-handkerchief look.

Catherine attempted to out stare him.

Mumbling something incoherent beneath his breath, he looked away. Her gaze followed his to the four-poster bed.

Oh, dear.

“Of course, I shall sleep on the floor,” he said.

“Of course.” She shrugged. “It does look softer than most floors. And I shall insist you take the counterpane to fold into a little mattress.”

“Can’t take your blanket.”

“Oh, yes. I shall have the bed curtains closed to hold in the warmth.”

“They will also give you privacy.”

“True.  I shouldn’t like you to see me sleeping. What if my mouth gapes open like a moron—meaning no disparagement to those poor afflicted souls.”

“I cannot imagine you ever looking anything but ladylike.”

“Oh, Airy, that is so kind of you.” That he was incapable of staying angry with her, endeared him to her. The girl who would one day capture his heart would be very fortunate. Very fortunate, indeed.

As she directed a smile at him, his lashes lowered. She was certain his compliment now embarrassed him. He was not the smooth-talking, bed hopper she’d wager his twin brother was. She rather pitied the girl who married that twin. Reflecting over her own smooth-talking, bed-hopping late husband, she was now happy that he’d been possessed of those traits. Otherwise, his demise would have been too, too painful.

She sighed. Yes, the girl who married Mr. Steffington would be most fortunate.

“You must allow me to make your bed,” she said. “I am ever so experienced. Whenever my little nephews visit me, I make them a pallet on the floor of my bedchamber.” She set about to remove the quilt from the bed, fold it lengthwise, and place it on the floor beside her own bed.

Then her gaze traveled over him from head to toe. “I fear you may be too tall.”

“My feet won’t mind hanging off.”

She started to giggle.

He cracked a smile. “Allow me to guess. You are now imagining my feet talking.”

Still giggling, she nodded.

“You are possessed of the silliest sense of humor.” He eyed the pallet. “Perhaps you shouldn’t put it so close to your bed. What if I snore?”

“I am accustomed to men snoring.” Her hand clapped around her mouth. “I didn’t mean to imply I’ve slept with multiple men. Only one, actually.”

His dark eyes flashed with mirth.

And they both laughed.

“Why did you not warm to Lord Seacrest?” she asked. “I thought he was charming.”

Mr. Steffington frowned. “You would. He shamelessly flirted with a married woman!”

“Well. . .I’m not actually a married woman.”

“He doesn’t know that!”

Mr. Steffington’s deep sense of morality touched her. She gave him a puzzled look. “I hadn’t noticed Lord Seacrest flirting. He was merely being friendly.”

“Only to you. He was jealous of me.”

“Why would he be jealous of you?”

“Because I had the good fortune to marry you.” He shrugged. “At least, that’s what the man thinks.”

“Oh, Airy, that is so sweet that you think being married to me is a good thing.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh.”

Seconds later, she feigned a yawn. “I suppose I am rather tired.”

His glance flicked to her valise, then to his beside it. He cleared his throat. She was coming to learn that he cleared his throat every time he was about to say something he thought might be construed as too intimate. “Would you like me to leave the room whilst you dress for bed?” He was unable to meet her gaze.

“You don’t have to leave the room.”

His gaze absently lowered to her bodice, then whipped away. “Then I vow to turn my back and close and my eyes whilst you . . . ah, remove your. . . well, you know.”

“You don’t have to close your eyes.”

Those dark eyes of his rounded. “Oh, but I must. You’re a lady, and I’m a gentleman.”

She stood. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll pull the curtains around my bed and then disrobe.”

“Capital idea!” He looked exceedingly relieved.

She went to her valise, removed her night shift, then crossed the room and climbed on top the big bed.

“Here,” he said. “I’ll close the bed curtains for you.” It was much easier for him because of his height.

When he finished, she sat on the side of the bed and listened to his footsteps move away. “Thank you, Airy. Good night, sleep tight—”

“And don’t let the bedbugs bite,” he finished.

Once she had changed into her night shift and got beneath the covers she called out to him. “I’m decent now, but I find I don’t like the dark. If you weren’t in the chamber with me, I would be terrified.”

“Should you like for me to crack open your bed curtains?”

“Please.”

“I, ah, shall need to restore my shirt first.”

How she would love to see him without his shirt. “Don’t bother. I’ll close my eyes.”

“Are you sure?”

He needn’t know if she peeked. After all, it was quite dark within the cubicle of her bed. “Certainly!”

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to imply. . .”

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

He quietly moved across the carpet. “Where should you like the sliver of light?”

“The foot of the bed will do nicely, thank you.” And would afford a glimpse of him.

Seconds later, a buttery vertical light striped the foot of her bed, and she watched as he moved back to his pallet with the powerful majesty of a panther. Firelight glanced along the tawny length of his long, lean, and wonderfully bare torso.

Yes, she thought to herself, her breath a bit ragged, the girl who snared dear Mr. Steffington would indeed be fortunate.

Buy Links:

Amazon ~ Barnes and Noble ~ iTunes ~ Kobo

About Cheryl Bolen:

Cheryl BolenCheryl Bolen is the New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of more than 20 romance books, both historical and contemporary mystery. Many of her books have placed in writing contests, including the Daphne du Maurier for romantic suspense. They have been translated into eight languages and have become Barnes & Noble and Amazon bestsellers. She was named Notable New Author in 1999. In 2006 she won the Holt Medallion (Honoring Outstanding Literary Talent) for Best Historical, and in 2012 she won Best Historical in the International Digital Awards for ebooks published the prior year. Her 2011 novella was named Best Novella in the Romance Through the Ages competition.

Admitting to a fascination with dead Englishmen and women, she has been a regular contributor to the Regency Plume, the Quizzing Glass, and The Regency Reader. She invites readers to her website, www.CherylBolen.com, or her blog, www.cherylsregencyramblings.wordpress.co.

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I’m so pleased to welcome Kensington mate and fellow Regency author, the fabulous Sally MacKenzie. Sally will give away a copy of her latest release, Loving Lord Ash, to on commenter who says they want the book!

As always we’ll start with the cover.

Loving Lord Ash Cover

Then the blurb:

A Little Misunderstanding…

Kit, the Marquis of Ashton, is in a sticky wicket. He married young and for love—how naïve. He discovered his mistake the very day of his wedding, but he is saddled now with a wife he’s reluctant to trust. And however much evidence he gathers against faithless Jess, he can’t seem to prove her guilt to the final judge—his foolish heart.
Jess knows she’s bobbled her marriage, however innocently. A fairytale wedding makes no difference if she hasn’t got the marquis charmed to show for it. Well, she’s had enough of accidental encounters with naked gentlemen and near misses explaining things to her husband. It’s time to buck up and go win her man back—even if she has to fight very dirty indeed.

If all that hasn’t convinced you what a great book this is, we have an excerpt!

Kit hauled himself up to stand and tore his gaze away from Jess’s lovely naked body. Not that he needed to look at it. He was quite certain it was burned into his memory.

He stared at a fat cherub perched on the mantel instead. Yes, think of the spiritual, the noncorporeal, the chaste. His body was having none of it. He stepped around the foot of the tub to get closer to the fire, turning his back to Jess to restore her privacy–and his own. His cock was far too prominent.

He shivered. But the cold air and uncomfortably wet clothing would help cast a literal damper on his physical enthusiasm. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stand here until you are finished. I’m afraid I’ll take a chill–and ruin the leather on the chair–if I return to my previous place.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

Did she sound a little disappointed that he’d pulled away from her? No, that was likely only wishful thinking.

“I’ll hurry.”

“No, no. Take your time. Did you find the soap? I’m not quite certain what happened to it when I fell.”

There was some splashing, and then she said, “Yes, here it is. It somehow got under my . . . er, that is, I was sitting on it.”

“Ah.” Her lovely, rounded arse, which was below her narrow waist, which was below her two beautiful–

Even the damp and the chill couldn’t keep his cock down. “I’m glad you found it.”

“And I promise to use it quickly.” There was a great quantity of splashing. “Shouldn’t you remove your wet clothing?”

God give him strength. “All my clothing is wet, Jess. I cannot think you wish me to stand here naked.”

“Oh. N-no, of course not. You would be shivering terribly. I’m almost done. I just need to rinse the soap out of my hair and–” She paused.

He watched a piece of ash float up the chimney. “And what?”

There was more splashing, and then she finally answered him.

“Do you have a spare banyan I could borrow? I’ll need to sit in front of the fire to dry my hair, and I obviously can’t do that now. But if I put my clothing back on, my dress and other things will get soaked.”

He had only one banyan, but he was happy to lend it to her. He certainly wasn’t going to use it. He was going to bathe and dress as quickly as he could, and then flee the room before his cock persuaded him to do something very stupid. “Of course.”

He rescued his banyan from his valise and walked back toward the tub, keeping his eyes on the ground so he didn’t trip again–or stare at Jess. “Are you ready for it?”

“Just a moment. Let me just get my towel. I–oh!”

God or the devil or some other divine being clearly was determined to tempt him past sanity. He snapped his head up in time to see Jess catch her foot on the side of the tub and start to fall. He dropped the banyan and extended his arms to catch her as her naked, wet body came crashing into his.

Buy Links:

About Sally:

Sally MacKenzie

Sally MacKenzie

USA Today bestselling author Sally MacKenzie writes funny, sexy romances set in her favorite time period (other than the present): Regency England. Her novella, “The Duchess of Love,” was a 2013 RITA® finalist, and two of her books—The Naked King and Bedding Lord Ned—made ALA Booklist’s top ten romances for their respective years. Many of her books are available in audio format, and her stories have been translated into Czech, French, Indonesian, Japanese, Norwegian, Portuguese, Romanian, Russian, Spanish, and Turkish.

Sally graduated with a B.A. in English from the University of Notre Dame in the first class of women. She’s a Cornell Law School dropout, former federal regulation writer, recovering parent volunteer, mother of four grown sons, and middle-of-the-lane Masters swimmer. She loves to travel, especially to England to research historic sites and hike through—and frequently get lost in—the English countryside.
A native of Washington, D. C., she lives with her husband in suburban Maryland, not far from her childhood home.

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Please welcome my guest today, the fantastic, multi-published Regency Author Samantha Grace! Samantha is here today with her latest release, One Rogue Too Many!! She’ll be giving away one copy to a commenter who says they want the book.

As always, we’ll begin with the cover. Isn’t it lovely.

Cover

Now the blurb.

From the betting book at Brooks’s Gentleman’s Club: 
Wager: £2,000 that Lord Ellis will throw the first punch when he discovers Lord Thorne is wooing a certain duke’s sister.

All bets are off when the game is love

Lady Gabrielle is thrilled when she learns Anthony Keaton, Earl of Ellis, wants to ask for her hand in marriage. She’s not so pleased when he then leaves the country and four months pass without a word. Clearly, the scoundrel has changed his mind and is too cowardly to tell her. There’s nothing to do but go back on the marriage mart…

When Anthony returns to Town and finds his ultimate rival has set sights on Gabby, his continual battle of one-upmanship with Sebastian Thorne ceases to be a game. Anthony is determined to win back the woman who holds his heart—but he’s not expecting Gabby herself to up the stakes…

And if you still need more convincing, an excerpt with a note from Samantha.

I’m often asked if I enjoy writing male or female characters better, and there’s no contest. Men are just more fun! I love their no-holds-barred banter and competitive sprits, so I had a great time writing the first book in my Rival Rogues series, One Rogue Too Many. The series is about two gentlemen who have been friendly rivals since childhood, but when they compete for the same lady, their rivalry ceases to be a game. Here’s a peek at their friendship before things begin to sour.

Anthony arrived at Brooks’s the next morning earlier than usual. Sebastian Thorne was known to break his fast at the club, and they needed to have a little chat. He didn’t know what the baron was about pretending interest in courting Gabby, but it was a dangerous game.

Anthony didn’t think Thorne was foolhardy enough to do anything that would compromise her. Any man would have to be cork-brained to risk her brothers’ wrath. But it would be equally dangerous to make her the object of one of his bets. Anthony glanced around the packed club, wondering which daft gent would accept one of Thorne’s challenges.

Besides yourself? He grimaced. Well, maybe he had been stupid in the past, but his days of indulging Thorne were over.

He found the baron sitting alone at a table with a cup of tea and the morning newssheet unopened beside the saucer.

He grinned over the rim of the cup as he took a sip. “Missed me while you were away?”

“As much as one would a bloody case of indigestion.” Anthony dropped into the chair across from him. He nodded at the newssheet. “You never read your copy. Why do you bring it?”

“If I leave the house early enough and snag the paper on my way out, Mother and Eve never run across an ugly piece of gossip.”

“Ah.” Anthony nodded. It was a shame people had nothing better to do than spread tales about Thorne’s family. Anthony had always held a bit of sympathy for him, not that he’d dare let on. The baron was meaner than a badger if he thought someone pitied him.

A footman approached and set a plate of eggs and sausage in front of Thorne.

Anthony sat forward, leaning his elbows on the table. “You’re either brave or very stupid.”

“Come now, the sausage isn’t all that bad.” Thorne shook out his napkin with a smirk.

“I think you know my meaning.”

The baron cut into his eggs. “Am I to assume this has to do with Lady Gabrielle?”

“You’re smarter than you look, but still a numbskull. Don’t come begging me to be your second when the duke issues a challenge.”

“And why would Foxhaven call me out? I’m properly courting the lady.”

Anthony scoffed.

“You think I’m lying.”

“Not completely,” Anthony admitted, thinking of Thorne’s respect for his own sister. “But you have a talent for walking the line between proper and debauched.”

Thorne popped a piece of sausage in his mouth and waved his fork at Anthony. “What’s your interest in the lady? Isn’t she like a sister to you?”

“I hardly have brotherly inclinations toward her,” he drawled and hooked an elbow over the seatback. “She’s to be my wife. I’m on my way to make an offer.”

“Is she now? Do you plan to club her over the head first then drag her to the altar? I can’t see her going willingly.”

Anthony didn’t bother answering. “Just stay away from her. Besides, she’s not your type. She is a romantic.”

“Egads,” he groaned in mock distress. “Not one of those.” He raised a hand to summon a footman and ordered two plates piled with sausage.

“Yes sir.” The footman shot a quick look at Anthony, grinned, then hustled away.

“You’ll have to loosen your corset if you eat all that,” Anthony said.

Thorne pushed his half-eaten meal aside. “I have a way to settle which of us will continue courting the lady.”

“There’s nothing to settle. By this afternoon, she will be my betrothed.”

The footman returned with two plates quicker than Anthony expected and set one in front of him and one in front of Thorne. A low rumble began in the club as men began looking their way.

Thorne’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “A contest to see which gentleman will step aside. Whichever man can shove the most sausages in his mouth—one end out, mind you—becomes the winner of the fair lady’s hand.”

There was a shout for the betting book and a few men inched closer.

Anthony shoved the plate away. “I’m not allowing a sausage to decide my fate.”

Thorne’s dark eyebrow arched as if to counter his claim. “Very well. Then I refuse to back down. Either a plate of sausages decides the matter or the superior wooer takes the prize.”

Lord Ledbery came over with the betting book and men began calling out their bets. Soon a crowd gathered around their table, someone bumping Anthony’s chair. Thorne met his gaze across the table and smiled.

Bollocks! Once the baron set his mind to something, he wouldn’t quit. He’d be dogging Gabby’s heels morning and night until Anthony had her down the aisle.

“Fine,” he growled and jerked the plate in front of him, upsetting the pile. It was the most ridiculous way to settle a matter, but Anthony would win and be done with it.

Thorne grinned. “You may go first. Once you set the number, I will exceed it.”

Anthony scowled, picked up a link, and defiantly shoved it in his mouth. Then another and another until his lips felt stretched to capacity. He paused to take a breath. The spices were already making his tongue tingle.

Thorne slowly picked up a sausage from his plate and wagged it. “Done already? After only three?”

“Just wait,” Anthony managed to grumble.

The baron gestured for Anthony to continue. He slowly wedged two more sausages into his mouth and nearly choked on the grease sliding down his throat. His eyes began to water, but he held his ground.

Anthony wiggled his tongue along the slippery casings, wondering how he would fit any more in his mouth. It seemed impossible, but he wasn’t going to let Thorne win. The sixth sausage was tougher than he’d anticipated, however. He eyed Thorne’s plate, trying to calculate the odds of the baron being able to beat five.

“Come on,” Thorne goaded. “This is for the lovely Lady Gabrielle.”

Anthony glared at him then continued the task with renewed determination. He did his best to shove one more sausage between the others, and he almost had it too when the sausage burst. Grease dribbled down his chin and plopped on his cravat and waistcoat.

Damn!

Thorne threw his head back, laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair. Their audience also hooted with laughter, making Anthony feel like the butt of a joke. Well, let Thorne see how funny it was to have grease down his front. Anthony dislodged the links, dropped them on the plate, and snatched Thorne’s napkin from the table. He smacked his lips, trying to get rid of the horrible taste.

“Let’s see you beat that number.” Anthony held up his cravat and cursed. He’d have to change and get rid of this disgusting taste in his mouth before he called on Gabby.

Thorne was still laughing. When he sobered, he looked across the table, his eyes still shining with amusement. “Congratulations, Ellis. You are clearly the better man.”

Anthony frowned. “What do you mean? Aren’t you going to try to win?”

Thorne shrugged. “You know how to handle sausage. How am I to compete?”

The gents in the club howled. Anthony’s face heated. Was this nothing more than a joke? Had Thorne intended to step aside the whole time? He couldn’t help laughing at himself. He pushed back from the table and pointed at the baron. “You are evil.”

The baron grinned. “You have no idea.”

I adore both gentlemen, but unfortunately only one can win Lady Gabrielle’s heart. Rest assured, however, the jilted gentleman will have his chance to fall in love, too. (In Bed with a Rogue, Rival Rogues #2, September 2014) I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. Out of curiosity, which gentleman do you think you might choose?

I’d like to thank Ella for inviting me to be a guest on her fabulous blog. It’s always fun to chat with everyone. To show my appreciation, I am offering a signed print copy of One Rogue Too Many to one of Ella’s readers today. (Open Internationally)

Buy links:

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Sourcebooks

Samantha To connect with Samantha…

Samantha Grace Author | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Lady Scribes

Bio:

Historical romance author Samantha Grace discovered the appeal of a great love story when she was just a young girl, thanks to Disney’s “Robin Hood”. She didn’t care that Robin Hood and Maid Marian were cartoon animals. It was her first happily-ever-after experience and she didn’t want the warm fuzzies to end. Now that Samantha is grown, she enjoys creating her own happy-endings for characters that spring from her imagination. Publisher’s Weekly describes her stories as “fresh and romantic” with subtle humor and charm. Samantha describes romance writing as the best job ever.

Part-time hospice social worker, moonlighting author, and Pilates nut, she enjoys a happy and hectic life with her real life hero and two kids in the Midwest.

 

 

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