Time to strut your stuff! Everyone seemed to enjoy the one page posts last week, so we’re going to do the same type of thing today. Please post the first page of chapter four of what ever book you’re working on or just released. If you have buy links, feel free to post them as well. As always keep it PG-13.
Here is mine from my recent release, The Temptation of Lady Serena.
Robert arrived at his estate on the outskirts of Newmarket the day after the disastrous theater visit. He’d pushed his horses so hard, he’d had to change them. But no matter how fast he drove, he was unable to outrun his growing attraction to Lady Serena.
The minute his hand touched hers, he’d felt the connection and, what was worse, his customary aloofness began to slip. He’d loved once and chosen badly. Robert bore no desire to travel to those depths of misery with any lady again. Just the thought strengthened his resolve. His marriage would be one of convenience, where he could control the outcome.
He needed an heir, not another broken heart. All he had to do was to stay out of London for a week or two and regain his wits. By the time he returned, Lady Serena would have chosen the highest title that offered for her, or the one with the most money. She might even be betrothed.
For some reason, that thought didn’t comfort him.
Robert stalked out to the stable determined to erase her from his mind, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Lady Serena haunted his dreams, coming to him and offering her lips, then fading away when he tried to touch her. Last night, he’d awoken trying to stroke his pillow.
If that wasn’t bad enough, no one appreciated his help. His trainer said to Robert if he came to the track once more, the man would quit.
Buy Links: Kensington ~ Amazon UK ~ Amazon US ~ Amazon Canada ~ Amazon FR ~ Amazon IT ~ Barnes & Nobel ~ iTunes
My novellas don’t have chapters, so I’m giving you the fourth section. My working title is The Reluctant Succubus. This is still rough–I haven’t even decided for sure on the heroine’s name. For some reason, “Lettice” doesn’t want to stick in my mind!
A knock sounded on the door, thank God, because Lettice couldn’t answer that question truthfully, and Lord Hadrian might probe for an explanation. She couldn’t tell him the truth, but nor did she want to lie.
What a relief to have a solid reason to leave this hellish house. For once, the Mistress of the Succubi was wrong. Staying here would only make Lettice’s reputation worse.
The same footman entered, glanced furtively at the two of them standing on either side of the table, and with a relieved look said, “A letter arrived for you in the post, Miss Raleigh.”
Lettice took the letter with a murmured word of thanks. She turned it over to look at the seal.
Damn! What could the mistress want now? Maybe she had belatedly realized the futility of sending Lettice to Staves Court. She broke the seal with a hopeful heart and glanced at the letter.
It wasn’t a reprieve. She felt Lord Hadrian’s interested eyes upon her and moved away to her desk to read it properly.
*My dear Lettice,* it said. *Much as I hesitate to inconvenience you in your pastoral retreat, I hesitate even more to deny a request from my dearest friend.* Code, of course, for the Master of the British Incubi—by all accounts a harsh and ruthless man.
*By tomorrow’s post,* it went on, *your host will receive a letter asking that a gentleman by the name of Pilgrim be permitted to study in the archives at Staves. You are requested, if asked, to let him know that you have heard of the said Mr. Pilgrim and can vouch for his bona fides as an historian. You are also requested to give Mr. Pilgrim whatever assistance he requires.*
Lettice sank into her chair. So much for her hopes of leaving immediately. She must remain to vouch for this Mr. Pilgrim—if that was indeed his name, which she doubted. She also doubted that she would be asked, since no one valued her opinion. No, the crux of the matter was that she must stay at Staves Court long enough to assist him…with what?
Loved it, Barbara. Boy do I know the problems with names. Sometimes characters just don’t want the one I picked.
Ella, I love the bit about Robert stroking his pillow! :~))
LOL, thanks Barbara!
Ella, Thank you. Here’s mine from Viking Fire – historical romance and now the Kindle Daily Deal of 99 cents until Feb. 2nd
Blood colored the ground. The copper stench crept into her throat. Another enemy rushed forward with an axe in hand, roaring a battle cry.
The man, inches from her when Bram stretched out his sword and pierced the man’s gut. Bram then yanked his sword out, his breathing hard. He fell back on the ground at the same time the enemy crumpled. O’Neills swept the land; they matched the Lochlanns stroke for stroke.
But the Lochlanns drew up their shields into a wall. One slipped away from the attack and headed towards her and Bram.
After dismounting, she heaved the sword with both hands. Unable to lift the sword higher than her waist, she lunged forward at a warrior from behind.
Surprised by her low lunge, the blade caught the warrior in the back of his upper thigh. The thwack of the metal against the bone radiated through her. The sword went with him as he fell. He was not dead, just injured. He twisted his upper body around to dislodge the sword in his leg. She bit her lip; now she was weaponless.
99 cents Amazon buy link: http://smarturl.it/VikingFire
Thanks so much for posting, Andrea!!
Thanks for this opportunity Ella!
Dreams Do Come True is the second book in my Dream series due to be released later this summer. Can you imagine being in love with someone who’s not totally human? Lynzi Lancaster is discovering amazing new facts about the existence of *other* beings in our human world on the first page of chapter four…
4
I had experienced one of the Fae special abilities several times with Layne’s Fae mama. When I had been upset, her touch or even the sound of her voice had a special calming effect on me. Layne shared that ability with her. His protective nature was in play now as he was trying to be honest with me about all the things that go bump in the night, but at the same time, ease my fears. He adjusted our bodies to a more comfortable, reclining position.
“Well darlin’, there are others out there. All those stories and tall tales you’ve heard all your life and the documentaries on television about strange or unexplained happenings around the world have some truth to them. There are mysterious animals, witches, mystical, or magical folk in one way or another. People have a tendency to stretch the truth but all those stories do have a factual basis. What you have to realize sweetheart, is that just as it is with humans or animals, there’s good and bad everywhere. Tom’s people are good folks who happen to be panthers some of the time. Del is one of those born with a mean streak. He is plain bad with not an ounce of good in him.” He paused for me to absorb the news of the existence of the other beings. “Why don’t you try to get a nap now? Everything will be clearer after you rest.”
Very nice, Larynn!
Cool! Thank you Ella 🙂 This is the opening page to Chapter 4 of Love & Vengeance, to be released in April!
Gustina halted behind the thin, scrawny slave before her. He’d led her from the baths into the villa and up to a tablinum. Sun streamed through the rafters, reflecting off the decorative pool, or impluvium, in the atrium behind them. In front of them, as a barrier to the peristylium, stood decorative slatted wooden screens. Scents of basil and lilacs filled the air from the walled in garden. The warmth of the room brought a peace of sorts to her battered soul, but her weariness of the place still remained. Where was she?
Slaves milled around the villa. Her guide brought her to an older female slave, who stared at her with stern brown eyes that roved over her ill-clad, filthy body. The woman’s nose crinkled in disgust. With a shake of her head, the matronly slave ordered her taken to the baths. Gustina couldn’t help but marvel at the fortune of this house to have its own baths. Even Terpio’s house held no such a convenience. People attended the public baths daily. There, the citizens enjoyed the company of their friends while bathing and playing games. Plenty of political scandals as well as alliances formed there. But to have private facilities meant money. And opportunities…
Unfortunately, from the scolding she got, Gustina took too long soaking. But she hadn’t bathed in a sennight. It took an eternity to wash away all the filth and grime from the Colosseum. The oil laden water soothed her frayed nerves, washing away the stench, but not the memories. She pushed them back, locking them away. Here, she could begin again, in a large house and not be singled out.
Now she waited impatiently, her toes curling on the tiled floor, for the Roman lounging on the cushions to notice her. She tugged at the cotton of her pale wheat colored tunic. It tied behind her neck, baring her back with only her breasts covered, and the overlaid wrap hanging to her knees. New iron ankle bands snaked around her legs, above her feet, their curved shape worn and smooth, not marring her skin. But their weight made her feet feel anchored to the floor.
The man on the lounge scribbled onto the book before him and handed it to the slave, ordering him away with a flip of his hand. His eyes roamed to her and fear mingled with disgust rolled through her.
“Ah, so you’re the one.” He swung his feet to the floor and stood in a fluid, graceful movement. His gaze roved her body as he padded closer to her, his lips curling in a predatory way. When his finger touched her bare shoulder, it took the strength of years of training to remain still and not flinch.
Loved it, Gina!
Lady Serena is on my TBR list, Ella. After your excerpt I have to move it up a few notches. stroking his pillow indeed! LOL
Here’s the beginning of Ch. 4 of Betrayal. It releases January 31.
Alyse mercifully remembered little of the days immediately following her collapse. Mostly she recalled Thomas’s comforting presence, explaining to her why Geoffrey had married Lady Mary, encouraging her to walk with him in the gardens, coaxing her to regain her strength and something of a will to live. She was grateful for each of his efforts—except the last.
A week after receiving Geoffrey’s letter, she found herself walking listlessly around the princess’s formal gardens on Thomas’s arm. This had been a favorite place to stroll, for the flowers in full bloom perfumed the air sweetly. Lilies, salvia, violets, irises, and calendula all lent their scents to try to cheer her. She was grateful he never took her near the rose bower. That memory was too painful to bear.
Eventually, he drew her down onto a bench shaded with a spray of late-blooming roses. Thomas detached one and, carefully stripping the thorns from the stem, presented her with the soft pink rosebud. “For you, my sweet. Though it pales in comparison to your beauty.”
Alyse took the rose, smiling forlornly at the good courtier, absentmindedly smelling the delicate aroma. “Thank you, Thomas. You are too kind to me. I am surely poor company these days.”
I’m looking forward to reading Betrayal. I’ve been on tenterhooks ever since Betrothal!
Always great snippets to read.
Tweeted.
Thank you so much, Daryl!!
Thanks for this opportunity, Ella!! Here is the first chapter of the story I’m currently working on – a historical romance, “Amazon Sunset”. The setting for this story is in the Amazon Jungles in the late 1800’s.
When Felix didn’t answer her right away, she looked at him. Worry etched across his expression as his mouth grew tight. Although his stare was fixed on the trees, he slowly moved closer to her. In fact, everyone on the boat seemed to move as if they were turtles with nowhere to go, yet they headed toward their weapons.
“Mr. Knightly?” she whispered only for his ears. “What is wrong?”
He turned toward her and grasped her wrist. His hold wasn’t tight, but his actions worried her.
“What you see in those trees are Spider Monkeys.”
His voice was calm, yet she could tell he was far from that emotion. “Spider Monkey?” she asked. “That’s an odd name for them.”
Extremely hairy and mostly brown in color, they were odd looking primates, but it was their heads that had her really studying the creatures because their faces appeared almost…orange. At first she wondered if they had all been slapped with orange paint, but then she realized that was what they were supposed to look like. Their tales were longer than their bodies and that was the very thing keeping them attached to the tree branches while their hands and feet clutched different branches—almost forming a spider’s web. Now she realized why they had been named Spider Monkey. Dozens of them filled one tree alone, yet all the trees held about the same amount of monkeys.
“I’ve never seen anything quite like it before,” she continued. “I suppose they are cute in an odd sort of way—”
“Listen closely,” he cut her off with a low and steady voice. “Do not make any sudden movements. They might look cute, but they are easily irritated. Making them upset is not wise, because they have been known to attack…and even kill humans.”
A surprised gasp stuck in her throat. They would attack and kill? They looked harmless. Yet as she watched his crew cautiously prepare for the battle they thought could possibly happen, she realized she’d better follow Felix’s warning this time.
He loosened his grip on her arm. “Stay by me and I’ll protect you, but do not make any sudden movements. We don’t want to do anything to agitate these wild monkeys.”
“All right,” she whispered as fear slowly seeped into her body.
I have made a book trailer if anyone want to check it out – http://youtu.be/R08147uUT1M
Wonderful, Marie!!
Ella, I hope you don’t mind me posting the opening from my short story, The Lawman’s Lady. This is my contribution to Rawhide ‘N Roses, an upcoming western romance anthology. It doesn’t have chapters.
The Lawman’s Lady
Lentzburg, Colorado; 1880
“Move aside,” Marshal Trace Balfour ordered, pushing through the noisy throng gathered in the street outside the Golden Slipper Saloon. Their shouts and laughter had drawn him from his office up the block. Among the crowd, he saw the local Methodist preacher, the undertaker and the owner of the mercantile across the dusty street. Several ranch hands, in town on their day off, made most of the racket.
Trace also noticed the schoolmarm, Matilda Schoenbrun. With her brown hair wound in a tight bun at her nape and wearing a drab calico gown of the same color, she brought to mind a brown jay such as he’d seen as a boy in south Texas. When she spotted him, she threw her shoulders back and narrowed her lips, looking down her bespectacled little nose, setting his teeth on edge.
“Marshal, please put a stop to this!” she demanded in a haughty voice.
“Ma’am, that’s what I aim to do.” Touching his hat to her, he shouldered aside a pair of cowboys whose laughter and catcalls almost drowned out the shrieks coming from a pair of females rolling in the dirt. Trace recognized them as saloon girls form the Golden Slipper. With red and purple skirts bunched around their knees, they fought viciously, scratching, biting and pulling each other’s hair.
He’d rather face a gang of bank robbers than deal with these snarling wildcats, he thought grimly.
Not a all, Lyn. Thanks for posting.
Hi, everyone! I thought I’d post an excerpt from Barbara Metzger’s ACE OF HEARTS, as we’re featuring this title for $0.99 at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Apple’s iBookstore through Valentine’s Day. In fact, if you visit our store at http://store.untreedreads.com , you’ll find all romance and erotica titles on sale starting at 30% off. Enjoy!
Best,
Jay Hartman
Editor-in-Chief
Untreed Reads Publishing
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Something was wrong.
Something was always wrong, so Nell had learned not to get excited or upset when a new maid went flying off in hysterics, a window shattered for no apparent reason, or three hens flew into the ornamental fountain and drowned. She lived with Aunt Hazel’s ghosts and her brother’s moods, so only an earthquake could shake her now.
“You are leaving this minute, before dinner is served?” she asked Phelan.
He did not bother replying, as he set down his valise and donned his driving coat while waiting for his carriage to be brought around to the front of the house.
He was obviously leaving. Another cook would likely hand in her notice. “What could be so important that you have to leave now?” Nell had only been gone an hour or so, helping the church guild ladies pack baskets for the poor house.
“Nothing that needs disturbs you, missy,” he told her. “I invited you to come along, anyway.”
“Yes, but you know I promised to sit with Mrs. Mahoney tomorrow so her daughter can go to the tooth drawer, after I start the maids on wash day. And I do teach the drawing class at the school in the afternoon. Besides, you know I cannot like leaving Aunt Hazel alone.” Although Aunt Hazel never thought she was alone. “It is far too short notice to change my plans and make other arrangements.”
“Suit yourself,” Phelan said as he drew on his gloves. “But swear to me you will not talk to strangers.”
Her older brother always had odd notions about people he did not know, and for him to demand such an oath was no more peculiar than usual. Nell tried to reassure him with a smile. “Strangers? There has not been a stranger in Kingston Upon Hull in ages.”
He did not answer, but placed his beaver hat at the perfect angle on his thinning locks to hide the receding hair line. “I heard about him somewhere. I do not want you taken in by any rakehell.”
“A rake, here in the village?” Now that was something far out of the ordinary. If it were not so late in the day Nell would have hurried into the village, to hear the gossip for herself and perhaps get a glimpse of this rare bird.
“I am serious, Nell. He might be dangerous to an innocent such as you.”
Nell smiled. To think that Phelan worried about any sly seducer taking an interest in her was touching. Foolish, but nevertheless touching. Nell supposed she would always and forever be Phelan’s little sister, but Miss Eleanor Sloane of Ambeaux Cottage, at her advanced age of twenty-five, in her plain and serviceable gowns, with no great beauty and no fortune or prospects, could not possibly attract a discerning libertine. The chances were worse if he was staying at The King’s Arms, as seemed likely. Kitty Johnstone waited on tables at the inn, and waited for Mrs. Ritter to look the other way, for more profitable employment. Compared to Kitty’s lush charms, Nell was a broomstick of a female. Why, she would have to dance naked on the bar top to get a man’s attention, and then he’d likely toss her his coat, to hide the offending sight.
Wow! So many great excerpts! Thanks, Ella! Tweeted as well!
Here’s the last page of chapter 4 of my latest release, Unraveling Secrets, set in Victorian London: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HC1LT6E
Distraught, her thoughts ran wild as she tried to think of any means, fair or foul, to force him to help her. “In exchange for your assistance, I offer my silence about your nefarious activities.”
“What?”
“Your association with The Barbican. That’s hardly an appropriate activity for a lord.”
He scoffed and turned away to pace the room. “Now you intend to blackmail me? Very unladylike of you.” His light tone mocked the gravity of her threat.
“I will do anything it takes to protect my family. Anything.” She tried to make her tone menacing, but wasn’t sure what that should sound like.
He turned to look at her, his gaze resting just above her head. She resisted the urge to check her hat to see if it sat askew.
“While you are obviously adept at many things, blackmail is not your forte.”
“How do you know what I’m capable of?”
“Let’s just say I’m a good judge of character,” he said with another glance at her head.
“It would be quite simple,” she continued as though he hadn’t already refused her multiple times. “I have the address of his lodgings and his favorite pub. It would only take a few moments of your time.”
He hesitated and she hoped he was seriously considering helping her. Had she finally captured his sympathy?
“You want someone to warn him?” he asked. “That’s all?”
She bit her lip, for in her heart she feared more than that would be necessary to make Simmons go away. But it was a start. “Yes. Precisely.” She waited, her breath caught in her throat, hoping he would agree at last.
A long moment of silence followed. “Very well then. I’ll see what I can do.”
She jumped to her feet, so grateful that it was all she could do to maintain her composure. “Thank you so very much, my lord.”
“But know this.” His narrowed gaze met hers, her heart skipping a beat at the anger she saw there. “You will not visit my home again. Do I make myself clear?”
Very nice, Lana!!
Silly man, if he thinks he can outrun his feelings! Nice excerpt, Ella. I’m enjoying reading the excerpts and adding to my to-read pile.
My excerpt today is from my upcoming release, Mistress of Merrivale.
“Cassie?” Jocelyn rapidly searched behind the chairs and the larger pieces of furniture, alarm tightening her throat. She peered under a sturdy table but didn’t see her stepdaughter.
“Good morning.” Amusement colored the voice of the feminine speaker.
Jocelyn’s head jerked upward, colliding with the edge of the table. “Ow!” She backed out from underneath the desk, rubbing her temple. Face flushed with heat, she climbed to her feet and turned to face the mystery woman.
Oh, the neighbors—Hannah and Peregrine. Just perfect. Jocelyn pasted on a smile and pretended her new neighbors hadn’t seen her on the floor with her backside poking from beneath a table. She brushed her face with the corner of her apron, aware of her messy appearance. No doubt, her cherry-red cheeks clashed with her hair and freckles. Her callers, of course, wore smart clothes suitable for visiting.
“Good day to you. I didn’t see you there. I was looking for Cassie.” She restrained herself when instinct told her to fuss with her hair. She couldn’t begin to compete with Hannah’s beautiful cream riding habit and pale golden perfection. There was no black garb in evidence today.
“We heard screaming. Is something wrong?” Masculine approval glinted in Peregrine’s eyes as he focused on the upper curves of Jocelyn’s breasts.
“My mother received a fright.” Jocelyn ignored Peregrine’s rude ogling to visually search the parlor for a glimpse of her stepdaughter.
“Aunt Hannah!” Cassie appeared from the far corner of the room and threw herself at the woman, burying her face in the skirts of her aunt’s riding habit.
Jocelyn wanted to sag onto the nearest chair. Thank goodness! The last thing she wanted was to explain to Leo how she’d lost his daughter.
Pre-order Mistress of Merrivale
Loved it, Shelley. Thanks for posting!
Hi Ella! I finally have a Monday I have time to post an excerpt. This is from The Earl’s Enticement which releases in May 2014.
Adaira threw a look over her shoulder.
Bother and blast. Mr. Marquardt stood staring, or rather glowering, at her. Even from this distance, she could see the pinching of his well-formed mouth and his angry narrowed eyes. She’d bet her father’s best tartan, sky-blue sparks spewed from them. Apparently Marquardt didn’t tolerate deception.
She snorted. Ironic given his history.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t corrected him when he’d called her ‘lad’. Or why she’d thickened her brogue when she could speak the King’s English perfectly. No, that wasn’t true. It was because he was a stranger to Craigcutty, and something about him unnerved her.
Then, when he’d revealed his name was Marquardt. . .
There, it happened again. The fine hairs on her arms and neck rose, chilling her to the bone. She shuddered.
Och, someone walked over my grave.
Marquardt. The cur who’d tried to kidnap and despoil her new sister-in-law.
Through the material of her shirt, Adaira fingered the topaz cross resting at the juncture of her throat. She’d been unable to suppress her oath when he said his name. Clenching her riding crop, she envisioned pummeling him with it, the ruddy bugger.
Great one, Collette!! I’m so glad you posted!!
Love all these excerpts, Ella! All great books I can’t wait to read
Thanks, Nancy, but where’s yours?
Reblogged this on Larynn Ford.
Thank you so much, Larynn!
Here’s my chap 4 page 1 of my Historical Mystery Book 1 of Xavier & Vic: The Troublesome Assistant
Vic awoke in her bed, fully dressed and confused. The last she remembered was Xavier holding her in his arms and magically turning Aunt Maddy’s death from one of pointless horror to one of value and honor. She sat up and frowned. She’d been foolish to allow Xavier to hug her, but at the time, she hadn’t exactly been thinking about keeping her secret. She’d been drowning in anguish, and Xavier’s arms had pulled her to safety.
She took in a deep breath and faced the reality of the situation. She held a strong attraction to Xavier Thorn. Once before, she had felt something for a man. During her first year at Oxford, she developed tender feelings for a young man who had cared for her in return. He did not know her secret and she dared not risk his discovery of the truth. Thus, Vic had not allowed herself to succumb to physical affection then and nor would she now. She hoped this time would not be so painful for the man involved. She still remembered the young man’s heartbreak with heavy guilt.
She sighed. This time would be different. Xavier’s heart appeared well armored. She frowned as she remembered the tenderness of his embrace. If he succumbed, she could use the excuse of being his employee, if the more obvious objection of her being a man was insufficient.
Claire interrupted her thoughts when she slipped into the room. “I’ve waited long enough. Now tell me every detail.”
Victor had no idea what to say. Should Claire know the horrible truth of Maddy’s death? Could she bear it?
Victor stared at her sister, who waited expectantly. Her sister was every bit as strong as she was and deserved the truth. Vic only prayed Claire would be half as comforted by Xavier’s words as /she had been.
Lovely, Liza!
Loved this excerpt, Ella. Especially the part where their hands touched and he kind of lost himself in the connection. One of my favorite romance moments is in Pride and Prejudice movie where Mr. Darcy helps Elizabeth into the carriage and their hands touched. When he walks away he tenses his hand into a fist because they both weren’t wearing gloves when they touched. It was so palpable and sensual without having to do much. Moments like that are what sell me on romance. Mathair always said I was weird though. LOL. Sharing now.
Thank you so much, Inion!! That means a lot to me.
There are some great excerpts today! Thanks for the chance, Ella! 🙂 This one is an unedited snippet from A Masterpiece of Our Love, coming in March.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Becca.” Arthur held his hand out, his smile warm and friendly. “Hunter speaks so highly of you, but never brought you around so I wondered if you were imaginary.”
She laughed and held out her hand to shake his. “I can assure you I’m very real.”
“Good. I’d hate to think he’s paying you so we all would finally believe there was such a woman that existed.” He let out a hearty laugh that made his belly shake. “ Just giving Hunter a hard time. We all enjoy a little picking around here. He’s no exception. Wait till I tell Dan, I met the infamous Becca.”
“I had a feeling you two were taking bets.” Hunter chuckled. “How much does he owe you?”
The man’s cheeks turned a little red, his grin widening. “You’re good, man. He owes me fifty bucks. But, I’ll have to take a picture of you two in case you don’t bring her by again. He’ll want concrete proof.” His tone was hopeful.
Hunter shook his head, still smiling. “The things I do for you crazy old timers. You have nothing better to do than take bets on things huh? What do you say, Bec?”
“I won’t be the reason he doesn’t earn that fifty dollars. They want a picture, we’ll give them a photo to remember.” She smiled over at Arther, who already had his phone out. She winked and turned to Hunter, cupping his face and leaned in for a kiss. She closed her eyes as the flash of the camera lit up and she heard a strange sound as her lips met Hunter’s.
“Ha, love it!” Arthur pumped a fist in the air. “I’ll take that fifty and take my wife out for the night. She’ll enjoy it. Seriously, it’s wonderful to meet you, Becca. We might pick a lot, but Hunter here is a good man and it’s nice to see him happy. Always had a feeling one day you two would end up together.”
All these wonderful posts. I’ve enjoyed reading all of them so much!
Thank you so much, Jules!!
Okay, breaking away from edits, this looks like an irresistible offer. I’m currently working on a traditional Regency, which I hope to have out by the end of the month or early February. Title is A Feather To Fly With. Here’s page 1 of Chapter 4:
“When Cleo came down to breakfast the next morning, she found a large black mastiff asleep at the foot of the stairs. The creature raised its head as she stepped over it. “Good morning, Vulcan,” she told it.
In the breakfast room, she was greeted with a flurry of chirps from two canaries in a cage by the window. Puzzled, she made her way back to the kitchen, where Mrs. Mimms was assembling breakfast. “Good morning, Mrs. Mimms,” she said. “Why is Major Davies’ Vulcan in the front hall? And the Misses Peabodys’ canaries in the breakfast room?”
“You’ll have to ask Master Han about that,” the stout cook said grimly.
“Oh, so it’s Han, is it? I’ll ask him, then.”
As Cleo left the kitchen, Mrs. Mimms called after her, “AND the goat in the back garden!”
By the time Miss Merriwether joined Cleo in the breakfast room, Cleo was looking pensively at a slice of ham.
“Are we dog-tending today, dear?” Merry asked.
“I had no idea,” Cleo answered. “It’s some project of Han’s. He seems to have collected all the neighbors’ pets.”
“I wonder what he’s up to?”
Thundering footsteps announced Han’s arrival, and the boy breezed into the room, mounded a plate with food, and joined the ladies at the table. “Good, you’re up,” he said.
Vulcan had followed him into the room and now sat by his chair, looking meaningfully at his plate.
“Explain, please?” Cleo asked her brother, pointing a fork at their guest.
“Oh, this?” Han said. He slipped a sausage to the massive beast. “Our beloved dog? That our sainted papa gave to me when he was but a puppy and I a tot in leading strings?”
“Han!”
Han sighed. “You did say you wanted to discourage Aunt Lucinda from her plan to move us to her house, didn’t you?”
“Oh.” Cleo nodded in comprehension. “So if she wants to take us, she also must take Vulcan.”
”
(BTW, if you’re wondering about the unRegency name of “Han”, the late Miles Cooper was an eccentric artist who named his children Cleopatra and Hannibal.)
Fun excerpt!