If you came by the blog yesterday you’ll know I promised you a surprise, and here it is!
Cara Elliott is releasing a new traditional Regency, Pistols at Dawn, under her nom de plume Andria Pinkens. She sent me the cover and an excerpt!
A metallic click caused Marcus Fitzherbert Greeley, the seventh Earl of Killingworth to look up from his ledgers.
“Who’s there?” he called sharply.
No answer sounded in reply, but after a moment the draperies stirred and a dark shape emerged from the midnight shadows. As the cloaked figure approached his desk, candlelight glinted off the steel of an ancient pistol.
“Stand up,” came the curt command.
The case clock ticked off a second or two before the earl put down his pen and rose.
“Take off your coat.”
He didn’t move, save for a slight twitch of his raven brows.
“You think a mere female incapable of pulling the trigger? I assure you, I should like nothing better, if you give me the slightest provocation.” The young lady—for her speech, if not her actions, indicated that she was indeed a lady—stepped closer. “And in case you are wondering, I am accorded to be a decent shot.”
Marcus slowly shrugged out of the elegant navy superfine garment and let it drop to the Oriental carpet.
“Now your cravat and waistcoat.”
He frowned, but his fingers loosened the folds of starched linen, then worked free the buttons of the striped silk. The items joined the crumpled coat.
A wave of steel indicated for him to go on. “Your shirt as well.”
The earl looked for a moment as if to refuse. However, after a brief hesitation, he undid the fastenings and tugged it over his head. The flickering candles cast a ripple of light and dark over the muscled shoulders and the chiseled planes of his bare chest. A glint of what might have been grim humor flashed in his amber eyes.
“Do you wish for me to go on?” he asked coolly, his lithe fingers openly toying with the flap of his breeches. “I am not unused to females seeking out my attention, but this is a rather imaginative approach. Tell me, are you as creative in other techniques as well?“
On seeing his assailant’s eyes widen, he gave a curt laugh. “Or perchance you have been sent as some prank by Allenby—though I would not have given him credit for being quite so clever.” One button slipped out of its slot. “But whatever your game is, sweeting, don’t you think it’s time you joined in the spirit of things and removed something as well?
“Hold your tongue!” The sharp order, more shrill than sure, cut off his words. “I am not interested in any of your lecherous suggestions, sir.” The barrel of the gun wavered slightly as her gaze slid along the dusting of dark curls that ran from his breastbone to navel. “I’ve seen enough. You may put on your clothes—you are not the one.”
“How disappointing to hear it. Things were just getting interesting,” he murmured softly. “A good deal more interesting than the blasted ledgers I was wrestling with.”
She ignored the tone of mocking irony. “What other gentlemen are part of this household?”
“What? Having found my flesh wanting, you wish to disrobe someone else?” The earl’s lips curled in a sardonic smile. “With all due modesty, I doubt you will find the footmen—”
“I warn you, do not trifle with me!” Her face went rigid with fury as she raised her gaze. “I am quite capable of pulling the trigger, Lord Killingworth. And there is no doubt that you would deserve it just as much as the one I seek.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why?” he demanded. He usually had no trouble shrugging off slurs to his character, but somehow her note of scorn struck a raw nerve. “I imagine you do not threaten to put a period put to a man’s existence without a good reason.”
The young lady took a deliberate step forward and aimed the pistol at his heart. But the swagger did not quite reach her eyes. “It is I who will ask the questions! Now once again, what other gentlemen are in this house?”
Marcus regarded the weapon calmly. “Surely you do not think a shot will go unnoticed?”
“I have another pistol.”
“Ah—but I have considerably more than one servant.”
“I shall count to three, sir.” Her finger tightened on the trigger. “One.”
“If I am to shuffle off this mortal coil, may I at least be permitted to put my shirt back on? I should like to meet my Maker wearing a bit more than when I entered this world.” He gave a slight cough. “Besides, I believe you left the window open and it’s getting rather chilly in here.”
“I imagine it will be a good deal warmer where you are headed,” she snapped. However, a curt nod indicated that he might retrieve the cast off garment.
“Two,” she added, as he bent to pick it up.
The earl slowly straightened. Suddenly, with a flick of his wrist, the shirt snapped out like a whiplash, knocking the pistol from her hand. Just as quickly, he was at her side, clamping hold of her arm to prevent her from drawing the other weapon.
”Let go of me!” she cried, flailing wildly with her free hand. The fist caught him flush on the mouth, drawing blood.
“Sweet Jesus, you are a real spitfire, aren’t you?” he growled, trapping her in a bear hug. In contrast to the hard-edged fury of her limbs, the softness of her tumbled curls was . . . surprising. As was the subtle sweetness of lavender that scented her skin. It was oddly intriguing that such a fierce creature could possess such beguiling hints of femininity . . .
An unladylike kick slammed into his shin. Her knee aimed a vicious blow even higher.
“Hell and damnation,“ Marcus swore, a grimace adding to the lopsided cant of his mouth. He tightened his hold, drawing a grunt of pain. “Enough! Don’t force me into doing something we will both regret.”
Seeing no chance of freeing herself from his grip, his assailant ceased thrashing. “Go ahead and call the magistrate,” she said with a defiant tilt of her chin. “Let them throw me in jail or hang me for this! I shall find some way of seeing justice is done, even if I have to claw my way back from the bowels of Hell to do it.”
Marcus could feel the heat of her against his bare skin, but even more searing was the fire in her emerald eyes. Puzzled, he could not imagine what had sparked such an intense hostility. No female in her right mind would behave as she had done without good reason—and despite all absence of civilized behavior, she did not appear to be lacking in sanity.
Slowly releasing her, he brushed the back of his hand to his split lip. “Perhaps you would care to explain just what is going on here before any more blood is shed. Mine or yours.”
The young lady drew a ragged breath, though in truth she sounded more angry than fearful. “You fine London gentlemen think it a sport to force yourselves on country girls?” she demanded hotly. “And is the game, as you put it, more enjoyable when they are naught but innocents?”
The earl’s jaw tightened. “A gentleman does not force himself on any female, country or town, innocent or otherwise.”
“Ha!” Her look of patent disbelief expressed how much credence she gave to such a statement.
“What makes you think the man you seek is under my roof?” he demanded.
“Given your reputation, Lord Killingworth, it seemed a likely place to start.”
“Ah. So, despite my infrequent visits here, I see that I am not unknown in this area.”
She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Oh, this may be a small country village but we have all heard the stories about the infamous Black Cat, sir. It is truly an unlucky day for Chertwell that such a mangy feline has chosen to cross our path and take up residence here.”
Buy Link: Amazon
Now for your excerpts and mine. A few weeks ago, I invited you to post your first page of whatever you were working on, something newly released, or a future release. Today let’s do page two. You’re welcome to post buy links if you have them.
Here is mine from Enticing Miss Eugénie Villaret which releases in August.
“A few days ago.” Gunna glanced at the child. “He be gone to a plantation soon.”
Even worse. He’d likely die before he was grown. Eugénie placed the small bag she carried on the floor. “Help me change him. He can’t go outside like this.”
A few minutes later the baby’s face and hands were clean, his linen was changed, and he wore a fresh gown.
She handed the woman two gold coins. “Thank you for calling me.” Gunnatried to give the money back, but Eugénie shook her head. “Use it to help someone else. Our fight is not finished until everyone is free.”
One tear made its way down the woman’s withered cheek. “You go now, before the wrong person sees you.”
Eugénie pulled a thin blanket around the babe’s head, thankful her wide-brimmed hat would help hide his face as well as hers, and stepped out into the bright sunshine.
“That’s her!” a male voice shouted.
She shoved the babe at Marisole. “Take him and run! I’ll catch up.”
Eugénie quickly drew out her dagger, concealing it in the gray of her skirts, and turned, crouching. A large man stood hidden in the shadow of a building, while a wiry boy, she guessed to be in his late teens, came at her. She waited until he reached out to grab her arm, then sliced the blade across his hands. Before he started to scream, she dashed down an alley between the long houses. Doors swung open, and several women stepped into the street behind her. That wouldn’t help for long, but it would delay the pursuit.
Perspiration poured down her face as Eugénie pounded up the hill, using the step streets to cross over to Queen’s Quarter. Ducking behind a large Flamboyant tree, she waited for several moments, listening for sounds of men running, but there was nothing, and no one other than a few going about their business.
She took out a scrap of cloth and cleaned the blade before returning it to her leg sheath. Then Eugénie removed her bonnet and turned toward the breeze, drawing in great gulps of air as she fanned herself with the hat.
Buy Links:
Amazon US ~ Barnes and Noble ~ iTunes ~ Kobo ~ Amazon CA ~ Amazon DE ~ Amazon FR ~ Amazon UK
Now it’s your turn!
As always, wonderful excerpts! Great reading to start the day.
Thank you Jenn!
Fun excerpt Ella! This is from my upcoming release The Wicked Bargain, to be out 6/19/14!
He turned to her, running his fingers through his unruly hair. “Bad. Dr. Bender’s bill is outrageous.” Slamming his fist on the tabletop, Ethan upset the brandy decanter. He grabbed it in time before it fell. “The man is a grave robber charging those high fees.”
“Lydia was very ill,” Elizabeth said calmly. “And Mary is having a difficult confinement. I didn’t think you wanted to let them get worse.”
With a deep breath, he felt the weight of the entire house resting on his shoulders. Ethan cared for his ladies deeply. They needed him to watch out for them, to protect and keep them safe. He owed them that. “Of course not. Just find me another doctor. I can’t keep paying his prices. At this rate, I’ll be in debtor’s prison by next month.”
She laughed. “They’d never throw a lord into a cell.”
He glared at her. “Oh, my dear, can you be so sure?” With a snort, he reached for the decanter. “If they strip me of the title, it would be short work, considering.”
Elizabeth stood to walk over to him. Taking the glass from his hands, she sat it down to pull him closer to her. She cupped his face in her palms.
“It will be fine,” she murmured. Her eyes wandered downward. He had discarded his jacket and neck cloth, leaving his snowy white shirt agape at the throat exposing a bit of his chest. He didn’t even flinch at her appraisal. Long ago, her sweet scent and roving eyes set his blood on fire and drove him to take her in his arms. But those days had ended. She remained his friend and confidante over his sordid past. Considering how quickly those fiery impulses had died, he wondered if he was dead inside.
Tugging his shirt together, she looked into his eyes. “You should go out this evening.”
“I have work to do,” he countered.
“Yes, but Countess St. John cancelled tonight. So you should go out, to the opera or your club even.”
Slave driver. He was more than familiar with those….He raised an eyebrow at her. “Elizabeth, sweeting, are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Shhh,” she whispered, stroking his cheek. The smell of lavender filled his nostrils. “Perhaps you should go to your friends.”
“Friends,” he scoffed, giving her a gentle push to move her back a step. He filled his snifter with the amber liquor. Downing a large swallow, he welcomed its burn down his throat. He went back to the desk.
The Wicked Bargain, 6/19/14
http://www.ginadanna.com
Very nice, Gina!
Here’s my page 2 of my next release, and my 1st published Late Victorian Mystery: The Troublesome Apprentice.
Xavier gave the young man a nod and turned to the beautiful miss at his side. Her eyes were also Maddy’s, but in a face much softer and more delicate. Blonde curls peeked out from the black netting of her mourning wear.
Gads! Xavier did not envy Victor his role as guardian. He imagined many suitors would vie for this young woman’s hand. Even now, filled with such immense grief, she remained strikingly beautiful.
When she gazed up at him, she did not smile, but sincerity lit her eyes as she spoke. “Mr. Thorn, we are honored by your presence. My aunt thought the world of you. I hope sometime in the future we can talk and perhaps share happy memories of her.”
“I would enjoy that as well,” he replied, and left them to the mourners who remained.
As he hurried to his carriage, he reviewed their words in his mind. Victor had spoken with a great deal of urgency. He could not help but wonder if the murderer had made his or her presence known to them. He hoped it the case. If not, it might take months to discover the culprit.
***
Without even the mention of his name, the butler, Gregory escorted him to the library and unlocked the door. As he entered, Xavier shivered from the cold, heavy dampness permeating the room. He breathed in, catching a faint whiff of fresh horse manure. Most odd.
The curtain billowed in the far bay window, providing him the answer. The window was either open or broken. Recalling Victor’s words at the funeral, he suspected the latter. With any luck, the intruder was also Maddy’s murderer and had left clues.
Gregory followed him inside, closing the door until it was only an inch ajar. The somber, dark-haired butler turned towards Xavier with a stern expression. “As you can no doubt observe, sir, someone broke into the library last night. Nothing has been touched or altered since Victor discovered it this morning. It is most kind of you to advise him in this matter. He is determined to discover Maddy’s killer, and I would feel better if he had a knowledgeable mentor so he comes to no harm in the process.” Then Gregory stiffened, as if remembering his position. “May I bring you tea or coffee? Or if you do not think it is evidence, perhaps the scotch on the table.”
There were so many unexpected declarations in the butler’s statement, Xavier hardly knew how to respond. In the end, he simply declared tea would be fine.
Loved it, Liza!! Thanks for posting!
Loved the excerpts so far. Thanks for doing this, Ella. This is page two from The Elusive Wife, that just hit the USA Today Best Seller list:
“Bad news, darling?” Lady Sheridan stretched her lithe, nude
body like a feline relishing its time in the sun. Rolling over, she
walked her fingers up his arm, and gently raked her nails back
down.
Too angry to sit, he left the bed still filled with the scent of
their recent lovemaking, and strode across the room to pour a
brandy.
Jason downed the liquid, relishing its burning as it landed in
his stomach. He glanced at Selena as he poured a second drink.
Growing tired of his mistress despite her beauty and allure, he’d
been wrong in assuming her appeal would last a while. Like the
two paramours before her, he’d begun to lose interest in her sultry
body only a few months after he first bedded her.
Am I getting old? Nothing seems to hold my interest for long
anymore.
Flinging his naked body into a softly padded chair, he closed
his eyes and rubbed his temple with a thumb and forefinger. “The
old Earl is still controlling me from the grave. I’m to be married.”
His sire had never left things to chance. He’d wanted Jason
to produce an heir, had badgered him about it for years. Since
his son hadn’t settled down and set up his nursery before the old
Earl had turned up his toes, he’d made sure he had left his only
offspring no choice.
Selena sauntered over, and standing behind the chair, placed
her delicate hands on his shoulders and rubbed his flesh.
“What a bother. When’s the wedding to take place?”
“Two days. Two bloody days.” Unable to contain his anger, he
leapt up again to pace.
“I have been ordered to present myself at Coventry Manor in
two days, to marry some woman the old Earl chose. If I don’t fall
in with his plans, I am cut off. I’ll get the title and the Manor house,
since they are entailed, but nothing else.
I love that book, Callie!
Great excerpts! Thank you, Ella.
Here’s mine from my short story Historical Romance The Proxy – one of five other stories (each in a different romance genre) by different authors.
For hours, she threw the blades with the baron’s proxy giving her encouragement and advice. Nicholas was better than many servants in her father’s home. His patience as he taught her would rival a saint’s and she had tried the tolerance of many teachers. Nicholas seemed to anticipate her need and mood before she even knew what she wanted.
Finally, she threw one of the knives and the tip stuck into the scarecrow’s head.
She was so excited she clapped her hands and leapt into Nicholas’ arms. Her enthusiasm faded as he brushed his lips across hers and her legs nearly buckled.
“I—I cannot. Forgive me.” She turned and ran back to the keep.
She took a shuddering breath as she paced in her chambers.
Her lips still tingled where he had kissed them. It was a soft brush of a kiss, but it made her want more.
Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Six-Shades-Romance-P-Darling-ebook/dp/B00K1KW9MG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1401717286&sr=8-1&keywords=six+shades+of+romance
Thanks so much for sharing, Andrea!
Great excerpts, Ella, both yours and Cara’s! Here’s page two from my upcoming release, Beyond the Darkness (working title.)
“Oh dear!” Lara said.
Una glanced at her, frizzy gray hair framing a scowl. “Your cat made a foin mess.”
“I see that.”
“I warned ye he’d be nothin’ but trouble, but ye’d no listen.”
“I’m sorry he’s caused you more work.” Lara bit back a sharper reply, reminding herself that she needed the woman’s help. Beside, Una might be cranky but she was also goodhearted.
Una sighed. “Aye, well, I’ll fetch a broom and mop.” Stepping around the mess, she added, “There’s a lot o’ glass. Ye’d best stay away from here until I clear it up.”
“I will. Thank you.” Receiving a grumbled response from the older woman as she hurried after cleaning supplies, Lara backed into the study, closed and locked the door as she always did when working. She’d told Una she was a writer and refused to let anyone see what she was working on, the only excuse she could come up with for her secretive behavior.
Crossing to the scarred table she used as a desk, she uncapped the metal tube and removed its contents. She gently unfurled the ancient scroll, spread it across the tabletop and set crystal weights on the corners to hold it flat. Thanks to the protective container, whose magical properties remained strong even after thousands of years, the parchment document remained as fresh as the day it had first been placed in the tube.
Despite many hours of memorizing the Old Ones’ pictographic alphabet under her uncle’s tutelage, Lara had found deciphering the ancient text a slow process. Making it more difficult, she didn’t dare write down the words as she translated them for fear they might fall into the wrong hands. If only Uncle Malcolm had told her what the scroll said before he died, but that was not the way of things. Each new coímeádaí na fírinne – Keeper of the Truth – must receive the Word of Danu direct from the scroll, he’d insisted.
Calling upon his spirit to guide her, she bent over the document. She ought to have finished this task long ago, but the accident that killed her beloved uncle had also left her badly injured and sick with grief.
Great excerpt, Lyn!
Great excerpts. Tweeted.
Thank you so much for sharing, Daryl!
I really love that cover, Ella. And the excerpt was pretty darn nice too.
This snippet is from my new release, The Earl’s Enticement.
~~
A man, his words indistinguishable, called to a lad standing in the building’s doorway.
The boy glanced over his shoulder. “Aye, I will.”
He bounded across the porch, then down the steps in front of the structure. A piece of straw poked from his mouth, and he wielded a riding crop in one hand like a sword.
Roark waved. “Young chap.”
With long strides, he closed the distance between them.
Ducking his head, the lad yanked the knitted cap lower on his brow. The Scottish bonnet was too big for the boy to begin with, but tugged nearly over his eyes, he looked rather like Roark’s one-eyed Old English sheepdog, Guinevere.
The crop stilled. Shoulders hunched and eyes lowered, the youth removed the straw from his mouth. He tossed it onto the packed earth. “Be ye speakin’ ta me, sir?”
“Yes, I need a horse. What’s your name?”
“Ad— er, Addy, sir.”
The youth was taller and older than Roark first thought, maybe as much as five and ten. Addy’s voice was soft and his brogue rather melodic for a lad that age. He appeared painfully shy, or perhaps, embarrassed at being caught pretending swordplay. He had yet to lift his gaze from Roark’s dust-covered Wellington’s.
~~
The Earl’s Enticement is available on Amazon: http://amzn.comB00KLO64S2/
Fantastic, Collette!!
Omg!!!! 😀 So exciting!
I always enjoy reading the excerpts.
Lovely excerpt and Pistols at Dawn sounds intriguing. Thanks for this opportunity to share!
My pleasure, Toni!
Great excerpts and I am a big fan of anything written by Cara Elliot ! Some great books on this post. More for the TBR pile! Here is page two from The Price of a Gentleman.
The previous Marquis of Ashworth’s solution to financial ruin, though not original, had certainly ended all of his troubles. Permanently.
Still, shooting oneself seemed a bit extreme and messy as well. It certainly was when done in the middle of one of the most well-attended house parties in a decade. Did such things run in families? The fashionable set thought so. Green eyes, brown hair and suicide – it depressed one to think on it. No, he hadn’t followed in Father’s dissolute footsteps and betrayed those he loved most. He’d done worse.
Cain had betrayed himself.
His hand sweated around the money. It burned and itched. Pride was a powerful thing, devilishly hard to kill and impossible to eat or sell. The wrenching anguish of his mother’s tears echoed in his brain. His father’s suicide had shattered her and no explanation, sensible or otherwise, made her see the estate stood in ruins and any moneys he managed to come into belonged to their creditors. If he were less the coward he’d tell her the truth and make her believe it.
The amounts he’d won at the tables were no longer enough. He’d pawned the gifts Millicent had given him. He assumed she didn’t know. Half of it went to pay off his father’s debts and his mother’s expenses, neither of which had diminished a great deal in the last five years. The other half went to the estate where hundreds of people waited for him to save them.
Thus he stood in his mistress’s bedchamber with five hundred pounds of her money in his hands and contemplated marriage to a woman he was no longer certain he even liked. For many men of his acquaintance, liking had little to do with bedding a woman, let alone marrying her.
He had liked Millicent. She had been amusing, all biting wit and no pretensions. They’d enjoyed each other in bed, with no promises and no illusions. But over the last weeks, bed and gambling were all they enjoyed together. Her laughter began to annoy him. Her touch left him cold. Desire had become hard work.
I loved it, Louisa!!