Archive for December, 2014

I know I’m a bit early, but this will be my last post of the year, and probably for a couple of weeks into 2015. I have my guest author posts already pre-programmed to post, so please stop by, comment, and make them feel welcome.

Before I go any further, let’s congratulate to Glenda for winning a copy of Louisa Cornell’s book  and to Bonnie for winning a copy of Callie Hutton’s book!!

There will be a massive giveaway on New Year’s Eve as well.

Hubby and I have come to an arrangement allowing me the time I need to write. The last book of The Marriage Game series is finally coming together. Kensington is putting the other books on sale in January. The information will be on Facebook and Twitter.

Now for my sailing update. It took us three and a half days to sail from Dinner Key in Coconut Grove to Key West. The first full day here, we went ashore, had lunch, and toured the town. Unfortunately, when we returned, our boat was attached to someone’s barge. The story we got was that the anchor dragged, and it was in danger of hitting another boat a half a mile away. I was immediately suspicious. The barge and a sign were in the way and would have gotten Silver Penny long before it had a chance to go anyplace else. Also, our anchor is a 55 lb Rocha, and we had over 100 feet of chain deployed. What that means to you non-sailors, is that it was highly unlikely that the boat dragged anchor for any distance, and it certainly wasn’t on a smooth walkabout.  Long story short, the guy wanted $2000 then reduced it to $200 when he found out my husband knew people at the Special Forces Scuba School here. It was a scam pure and simple. We didn’t pay him, but it put a damper on our time here.

However, we are determined to spend a couple of days enjoying Key West. Our thirty-first anniversary is on Tuesday, and we will spend New Years with sailing friends, some new, some old. How are you going to spend New Year’s Eve?

Here are pictures from the past week.

Leaving Miami

Leaving Miami



Rodriguez Key Ancorage

Rodriguez Key Anchorage


Key West

Key West

I hope your Christmas was joyful, and I wish you peace, love, and prosperity in 2015.




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Merry Christmas!!

Merry Christmas to all of you. I missed Sunday News this week, but I’ll make up for it tomorrow. Have a wonderful day with your families!!

Christmas boat


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Please welcome Callie Hutton back to the blog. She is here today with her Christmas book, Miss Merry’s Christmas!! And she is going to give a copy to one of you. All you have to do is tell you want it.

I love this cover.

 MMC resized (larger)















Here is the blurb.

The Duke of Penrose is not happy with Miss Meredith Chambers, the American governess his new wards have arrived with. He quickly replaces her, happy to have his unwanted attraction to the unsuitable woman behind him. Until his mother hires her as a companion…

England, 1817.  David Worthington, Duke of Penrose dislikes Miss Meredith Chambers, the American governess who accompanied his new wards. He especially detests his attraction to the insufferable woman, and is anxious for her replacement to arrive.

Merry is thrilled when the Dowager Duchess Penrose hires her as a companion. Now she can stay with her beloved charges. But can she ignore how her heart thumps when the pompous duke gets close?

Two people determined to ignore each other, despite the pull between them, and the sparks that fly whenever they’re together.

And an excerpt!

“It appears to me, Miss Chambers, that Lady Charlotte and Lady Clare have arrived into my keeping just in time.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “I arranged for a governess to train them in proper behavior. She will instruct the girls in the skills necessary for a lady of their station.” He waved his hand. “Sewing, French, watercolors, and so forth.”

Merry stared at him, her jaw slack. Well over six feet, David, Duke of Penrose, was a sight to behold. Every inch the lord of the manor, his coat fit him as if it had been painted on. His white-on-white waistcoat hugged his impressive body above well-fitting tan breeches tucked into shiny black Hessian boots. A snow white, intricately tied cravat stood in stark contrast to his lightly tanned skin.

The duke rounded the desk and rested one hip on the edge, peering down at her, his foot swinging back and forth. “I shall allow a bit of transition time for the young ladies. You may stay on for a week or two. Then I will see you receive a generous stipend to tide you over until you can secure another position.”

Two blonde heads popped up from underneath Merry’s skirts. “No!”

Buy Links:


About Callie:

HeadshotThe USA Today best selling author of The Elusive Wife writes both Western Historical and Regency romance, with “historic elements and sensory details” (The Romance Reviews). She also pens an occasional contemporary or two. Callie lives in Oklahoma with several rescue dogs, two adult children, and daughter-in-law (thankfully all not in the same house), and her top cheerleader husband of thirty-eight years. She is also currently welcoming her twin grandsons. Callie loves to hear from readers, and would welcome you as a “friend” on Facebook. You can contact her through her website: www.calliehutton.com, or write her directly at calliehutton11@gmail.com


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I have a huge treat for you today. Historical author Louisa Cornell has been a Golden Heart finalist twice, and has won numerous contests. She is the only author I know who had requests from every agent she sent her book to. Now she has finally published a novella, A Perfectly Dreadful Christmas, with a group of other authors, and she’ll be giving the box-set away. You know the rules. In order to be eligible you must leave a comment saying you want the book.

Please welcome Louisa to the blog!!

Here is the lovely cover.cr print full cover 2 flattened


The blurb.

 “A Light in Winter or The Wicked Will” – Debt-ridden Connor Grayson inherits his uncle’s title and ruined estate. But in order to receive his uncle’s money, the new Viscount Roxbury must marry an ancient crone—a fate he considers… until he meets her companion.

“The Lord of Misrule” – Everyone expects the Earl of Morrell to propose to Alice Caruthers during the Christmas holidays. Finally! But when the earl’s best friend arrives as the lucky First Foot on New Year’s Eve, Alice’s world turns upside-down.

“God Rest Ye Murdered Gentlemen” – Newlywed Eugenia, Lady Hunter, wants to impress her aristocratic in-laws with her first Christmas house party — but blackmail, dead bodies, and being snowed in with a killer are not part of her plan.

“A Perfectly Dreadful Christmas” – Three not-so-wise gentlemen, a pregnant stranger, several tumbling footmen, and an unexpected snowstorm will turn Elizabeth’s Perfectly Ordinary Christmas into a disaster … or a Christmas miracle with the man she loves.

And an excerpt of A Perfectly Dreadful Christmas.

 “You do not seem happy. Sterling would want you to be happy.”

“You and I both know Delacroix only proposed to save me from Mama. Not even Napoleon deserves Mama.”

Nicholas struggled to his feet. “You are wrong there, Elizabeth. Delacroix is very fond of you.”

“Fond?” Elizabeth wanted to scream at the unromantic nature of men. It was a miracle the human race survived at all. “You are right, of course. He is fond of me. And that is more than most marriages have.”

“Yes. It is.” He took three steps toward the open sitting room door, but turned back to search her face almost desperately. “There is nothing wrong between you and Delacroix. Is there?”

Elizabeth unfurled herself from her chair and loosed her most brilliant, girlish laughter on him. The sort of laughter a woman practiced to assure a man all is right in her world. “Nothing a little moonlight and mistletoe wouldn’t fix.”

“Let us hope Delacroix doesn’t recruit some poor footman to hang the moon now the mistletoe is done.” He gave her a wicked wink.

“All the ladders are broken. No danger there, my lord.”

He crossed the room in three strides. Somehow the locket was in his hand and then it was around her neck, pressed over her heart with the heat of his palm like a brand.

“Someone should hang the moon for you, Elizabeth. You deserve the moon. The moon, the stars, and more.”

She stared at him — bubbling on the inside, frozen in place on the outside. No sound save their breathing and the music of the wind against the window panes. Then with a muttered curse he was gone.

Elizabeth’s knees wobbled. She sat down, missed the chair, and landed in a heap on the sitting room floor. “Drat you, Nicholas St. Gabriel. What the devil just happened?”

Buy links:

 Amazon ~  B&NSmashwords ~ Kobo

About Louisa

LouisaLouisa Cornell read her first historical romance novel, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, at the age of nine. This inspired her to spend the next three years of her young life writing the most horrible historical romance novel ever written. Fortunately it has yet to see the light of day. As Louisa spent those three years living in a little English village in Suffolk (Thanks to her father’s Air Force career.) it is no surprise she developed a lifelong love of all things British, especially British history and Regency-set romance novels. (And Earl Grey tea!)

During those same three years, Louisa’s vocal talent was discovered. Her study of music began at the London College of Music and continued once she returned to the States. After four music degrees and a year of study at the Mozarteum in Salzburg, Austria, Louisa was fortunate enough to embark on a singing career in opera houses in Germany, Austria, and most of Eastern Europe.

Now retired from an active career in opera, Louisa has returned to her first love – writing Regency-set historical romance. She has completed four books to date and A PERFECTLY DREADFUL CHRISTMAS is her publication debut.

Two time Golden Heart finalist, three time Daphne du Maurier winner, and three time Royal Ascot winner, Louisa is a member of RWA, SMRWA and the Beau Monde Chapter of RWA. She lives in LA (Lower Alabama) with a Chihuahua so grouchy he has been banned from six veterinary clinics, several perfectly amiable small dogs, and a cat who terminates vermin with extreme prejudice.

You can learn more about Louisa and her future publication plans at :    www.louisacornell.com  and  https://www.facebook.com/RegencyWriterLouisaCornell or follow her on Twitter  @LouisaCornell.

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Wow has this week gone quickly. Let’s begin with the winner of Sheri Cobb South’s book. Congratulations to Emm!!

A bit shout out and congratulations as well to everyone who entered Eileen Dreyer’s 12 Days of Temptation giveaway, and to Louise Risser who won my book and the grand prize winner Janie McGaugh!! Congratulations everyone and happy reading!!

Kensington is going to have a battle of the heroes for Valentine’s Day. I have to pick one hero to enter. The choices are Marcus from The Seduction of Lady Phoebe, Rutherford from The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh, Robert from The Temptation of Lady Serena, Huntley from Desiring Lady Caro, Will from Enticing Miss Eugénie Villaret, or Georges from Madeleine’s Christmas wish. So far on Facebook, the voting has been in favor of Marcus. So I really need your votes. Who do you think has the best chance of winning?



As you’ve probably guessed, this week has been very busy. I’ve been writing like mad as well as helping Hubby fix stuff on the boat. We had to replace the alternator on the other engine, we have the watermaker almost working, but need a 3-way valve to complete the job, and figured out why we had no hot water in our bathroom!

North Palm Beach was getting really cold, and to top it off I came down with some sort of crude. I’m currently coughing up a lot of congestion. Anyway, we are headed south in search of warmer weather so that we can finish getting the boat ready to go to St. Thomas.

Yesterday we got off to a late start and ended up anchoring out just inside Hillsborough Inlet. For the first hour or so we had friends swimming all around the boat while we were under sail.

Dolpins WPB



hills view

Hillsbrough bridge

Hillsbrough lighthouse

This morning we left with the intension of stopping in Ft. Lauderdale for a day or two, but when our favorite mooring field was full, we decided to continue on to Key Biscayne.

Ft. Laudersale from the ocean

We’ll be at Dinner Key tonight near Coconut Grove. Let me know if you’re in the area.

What have you all been up to this week?



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I’m so pleased to have historical mystery author Sheri Cobb-South on the blog today!! Sheri has a new book, Family Plot, and she’ll give away a hardback copy to one of you. All you have to do is leave a comment telling her you want the book!

Let’s begin with the cover.



Now the blurb:

In disgrace with her aristocratic in-laws, recently widowed Lady Fieldhurst is exiled to Scotland with her three young nephews in tow. On impulse, she and the boys decide to stay at an isolated seaside inn under an assumed name, where they can enjoy a holiday far away from the scandal that still plagues the family.

But trouble soon finds them when the boys discover an unconscious woman on the beach—a woman who bears a startling resemblance to the local laird’s daughter, missing and presumed dead for the last fifteen years. Uncertain whether to welcome her as a returning prodigal or denounce her as a fraud, Angus Kirkbride sends to London for a Bow Street runner—which presents a dilemma for Lady Fieldhurst, since she has chosen to call herself Mrs. Pickett after the handsome young man who saved her from hanging for the murder of her husband.

Meanwhile John Pickett, hopelessly pining for Lady Fieldhurst, resolves to forget her by marrying another. When magistrate Patrick Colquhoun receives Kirkbride’s summons, he packs Pickett off to Scotland before his most junior runner can do anything rash.

Upon his arrival, Pickett is surprised (though not at all displeased) to discover that he has acquired a “wife” in the person of Lady Fieldhurst. But when Angus Kirkbride dies only hours after announcing his intention of changing his will in his daughter’s favor, “Mr. and Mrs. Pickett” must join forces to discover the truth about a family reunion suddenly turned deadly.

And an excerpt:

“It appears we have only one room vacant tonight on account of the fine weather bringing all the anglers to the coast for a last bit of fishing ere the winter sets in,” the innkeeper informed Pickett. “That being the case, I’ve taken the liberty of having your valise sent up to your wife’s room. I hope that’s agreeable.”

“My—my wife, you say?”

“Aye—Mrs. Pickett. You did say that was your name?” the innkeeper asked in some consternation.

“Yes, that’s it.” Pickett darted a quick, bewildered glance up the staircase.

“You’ll think me a regular noddy for not connecting the pair of you at once. Truth to tell, I had the impression Mrs. Pickett was a widowed lady.”

“No, that’s quite—quite all right,” Pickett assured him, wanting only to be rid of the man so that he might resolve the situation with the woman whom the innkeeper imagined to be his wife.

He wondered what sort of female he would find upstairs; a woman of a certain age, apparently, if the innkeeper had assumed her to be a widow. He climbed the stairs with a growing sense of dread until, reaching the top, he stopped before the room the innkeeper had indicated. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the knob and opened the door.

A high-pitched shriek greeted his entrance, only to be bitten off at once as the lady recognized her unannounced caller. For instead of confronting an outraged dowager, he found himself face to face with the Viscountess Fieldhurst. She was clad in nothing but her shift and stays, and as his slightly dazed brain registered this interesting fact, she snatched up a pink dressing gown lying on the bed and clutched it to her bosom.

“Mr. Pickett!”

My lady?” At any other time Pickett would have nobly turned his back on her déshabillé, but such was his sense of shock that gallantry fell by the wayside.

“Sssh!” She started to raise a hand in warning but, as the dressing gown began to slip, apparently thought better of this maneuver. “You must not call me so! Shut the door, and I will explain everything.”

Valiantly if belatedly turning away, Pickett closed the door and shot the bolt home. When he turned back to face her ladyship, he was both relieved and disappointed to discover that she had shrugged on the dressing gown and was in the process of tying the belt about her trim waist.

“The innkeeper had my valise brought up to this room,” Pickett said, gesturing toward the worn leather bag at the foot of the bed.

“Oh!” exclaimed her ladyship. “Is that yours? I confess, when I saw it there, I thought it must be Harold’s. He has so many, it has been difficult to keep up with them all.”

“My lady,” Pickett said, conscious of having conceived a violent dislike for the unknown Harold, “the innkeeper seems to be laboring under the misapprehension that we are man and wife!”

Lady Fieldhurst heaved a sigh. “An entirely reasonable assumption under the circumstances, I fear. It is a long story, Mr. Pickett, and one that does me no credit. I suppose you must wonder why I am in Scotland when I was in London only three weeks ago.”

“I—yes, I suppose I am.” While not uppermost in his thoughts, this home question was far better suited to polite conversation.

“In fact, Mr. Pickett, I am in disgrace with my husband’s family—again!” she added with a rueful smile. “I have been banished to Scotland, you see, with George’s three sons in my care.”

“Ah!” Pickett’s brow cleared at hearing her absence from the theatre so easily explained, to say nothing of the identity of the mysterious Harold. “Then that is why—” He broke off abruptly.

“ ‘That is why’ what?” asked Lady Fieldhurst, puzzled.

Pickett could hardly explain to her ladyship his haunting of Drury Lane Theatre, craning his neck for a glimpse of her in the boxes overlooking the pit. He shook his head. “Never mind. It wasn’t important. But why the false name?”

Now it was her ladyship’s turn to be embarrassed. “As to that, Mr. Pickett, I am afraid I have behaved impulsively, with disastrous results! Harold Bertram, you see, has been having a most difficult time at school, given his sudden change in status. It is not easy for a young man to go from being the heir to a viscountcy to, er, having the legitimacy of his birth invalidated. On the journey north, he confided a wish that he might go someplace where he would be quite unknown. I confess to having had similar feelings myself over the past six months, and so, since the boys had never seen the sea, we decided on a whim to stop here. When Harold wished to further confound any potential gabble-mongers by using a false name, it seemed amusing at the time to grant his request. And since we needed a name that would be unknown in polite circles, I—well, I chose yours.”

“Certainly unknown in polite circles,” agreed Pickett somewhat bitterly, more wounded than he cared to admit by this casual reminder of the differences in their respective stations. “My lady, you are more than welcome to make free with my name any time you may have need of it. Still, I’d best go downstairs and square things with the innkeeper. I believe all the rooms are full, but I’m sure Mr. Colquhoun won’t object to putting me up.”

He rose and would have suited the word to the deed, but she clutched at his sleeve. “Wait! Perhaps I could help you with your investigation, as I did in Yorkshire.”

Pickett shook his head. “That was different. You were embroiled in that case from the first. I can’t implicate you in this one.”

“Can’t implicate me?” Lady Fieldhurst echoed, torn between exasperation and amusement. “My dear Mr. Pickett, who do you think discovered the body?”

Buy link: Amazon


About Sheri:

Five Star author photoAt the age of sixteen, Sheri Cobb South discovered Georgette Heyer, and came to the startling realization that she had been born into the wrong century. Although she doubtless would have been a chambermaid had she actually lived in Regency England, that didn’t stop her from fantasizing about waltzing the night away in the arms of a handsome, wealthy, and titled gentleman.

Since Georgette Heyer was dead and could not write any more Regencies, Ms. South came to the conclusion she would simply have to do it herself. In addition to her popular series of Regency mysteries featuring idealistic young Bow Street Runner John Pickett (described by All About Romance as “a little young, but wholly delectable”), she is the award-winning author of several Regency romances, including the critically acclaimed The Weaver Takes a Wife.

A native and long-time resident of Alabama, Ms. South recently moved to Loveland, Colorado, where she has a stunning view of Long’s Peak from her office window.

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Happy Sunday to everyone. We were supposed to have left yesterday, and it didn’t happen. I’ll tell you all about it, but first I want to congratulate Jan for winning Judith Laik’s book and Connie for winning Collette Cameron’s book!! Congratulations ladies!!

Now back to the boat. As  you know we have been waiting for a weather window and we got one. Then about four days ago, the second engine’s alternator stopped working, the watermaker needed an additional pump, and the SSB was still not installed. Even if we got it all going by next week, that would put us at sea for Christmas. Not a pleasant prospect. So it looks as if we’ll be in Florida for Christmas, and catch the next weather window out.

In book news, A Kiss for Lady Mary, book #6 of The Marriage Game is on pre-order!! Here is the cover, blurb, and an excerpt!

A Kiss for Lady Mary

Ella Quinn’s bachelors do as they like and take what they want. But when the objects of their desire are bold, beautiful women, the rules of the game always seem to change…

 Handsome, charming, and heir to a powerful Viscount, Christopher “Kit” Featherton is everything a woman could want—except interested in marriage. So when he hears that someone on his estate near the Scottish border is claiming to be his wife, Kit sets off to investigate.                                                                                                                                                                

Since her parents’ death, Lady Mary Tolliver has been hounded by her cousin, a fortune-hunting fool after her inheritance. Refusing to settle for anything less than love, Mary escapes to the isolated estate of rakish bachelor, Kit Featherton. Knowing he prefers Court to the country, she believes she will be safe. But when Kit unexpectedly returns, her pretend marriage begins to feel seductively real…


Kit and his small group of servants had stayed in Alnwick last night and got a late start this morning. It would not do to arrive at Rose Hill too early. After luncheon should be time enough.

God knew he didn’t want to spend any more time under the same roof with the female pretending to be his wife than was necessary. He’d had had a great deal of time over the past week to plan how he would arrive. In the end, he decided to do so in as impressive a way as possible. That ought to convey to the woman that he was serious about recovering his property. All his life he had worked hard to avoided scandal, and he refused to have one touch him or his family now. He would give no quarter. If she would not willingly pack her bags and leave by tomorrow morning, he’d help her out the door.

He glanced at his pocket watch again. For the past half hour he had been waiting on the outskirts of Rosebury for Piggott to catch up with him. Finally he spied a carriage being led by his father’s coachman. Of all the bad luck. The wheeler had gone lame. At least it wasn’t one of his father’s horses. After they’d left York, he’d been on his own for cattle. He’d have to get the poor animal looked after. He hoped that Rosebury would have a decent hostelry. He would be damned if Dent had to lead the carriage led all the way to Rose Hill.

“Sorry, sir,” Robins, the coachman, said as he approached. “He threw a shoe. Shouldn’t be too bad once we get it fixed.”

“There’s nothing you could have done to prevent it, but time is of the essence. We’ll have to find a replacement.”

After they made their slow way to the center of the town, Kit located the blacksmith, while Dent went off to ask about a stable where he could board the horse and hire another.

Kit stepped into the large stone smithy, peering through the dim light until he located a figure. “Good day. I have a horse that’s thrown a shoe. Can you help me?”

A large, middle-aged man with coal black hair materialized from the dark interior. “Aye, gimme time t’finish here.” He retreated back into the darkness, and the next sound was the sizzle of hot iron being put in water. “Passin’ through?”

“Here on business. Name’s Featherton.”

The smith stopped what he was doing and turned. “Be ye the Featherton what owns Rose Hill?”

Kit smiled. “I am.”

The other man scowled. “See here, ya not plannin’ on causin’ trouble for our Lady Mary, are ya?”

Good God, what had that blasted female been doing? He wondered if Mary was even her real name.

Buy Links:

Amazon ~ B&N

How was your week?



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Please welcome historical author Judith Laik to the blog!! Judith is here today with her latest book, The Lady in Question, Book Two of her The Unsuitable Brides series. She will also be giving away a copy of the book!! All you have to do is tell her you want it.

Now for the gorgeous cover.



The blurb:

“An unusual journey to historical Regency England coupled with a moving romance”             Jane Bowers, Romance Reviews Today website

A fateful toss of the dice

Charlotte Treadwell is outraged when she learns her gaming-mad papa has just forfeited her in a game of hazard.  Suddenly she is the “property” of Hugh Brooks, Earl of Rayfield, a rake and a gambler who couldn’t possibly understand that her passionate heart is taken up with helping those less fortunate than she.

A perilous game of chance

Rayfield must stop an aristocratic spy from inflicting the horrors of revolution upon England.  How can he keep his mind on his duties when the tempting woman he has just won is the fiery daughter of his prime suspect?

Love is the most dangerous gamble of all . . .

“With a little matchmaking from Charlotte’s former servants, Charlotte and Rayfield find themselves embroiled in a much more dangerous game – that of love, and then the sparks really fly.”             Valarie Pelissero, Rakehell

And an excerpt:

Even in the dimness of the theater, Charlotte looked alarmingly pale.  Hugh could not count how many people had packed into the Adairs’ theater box.  Sylvia should have known better than to invite the Vernons to make up their party.  The mass of young men trying to get near Miss Vernon during the interval seemed to suck away all the available air.

“Would you like to escape for a bit, Miss Treadwell?”

“Indeed, I would, but we cannot reach the door.”

“I’ll get us through the crowd.”  He placed his hand under her elbow and assisted her to stand.  Then, with his left arm around her, he put his right shoulder forward and pushed against the nearest body.  “Let us through, please.  Miss Treadwell is unwell.”  He repeated his words and shoved aside any who did not make way, and finally gained the corridor.

The air felt heavenly cool and fresh, although a crush of people milled about there also.  He found a place away from the path of the mob, setting Charlotte against the wall where she would not be jostled.  Looking down at her, he brushed a lock of hair that had come undone from its coiffeur.  “How are you now?”

“Much better, thanks.  I fear I am not intended for the rigors of the Season.  Large crowds are most unpleasant for me.  Miss Vernon seems to thrive upon it.”

Her color was better.  He had a mad impulse to carry her far away from any crowd and make love to her.  He could not, but surely a few stolen kisses. . .he looked around and saw he could not risk even that without their being seen.  He drew back a safe step to lessen temptation.  “How does your ‘lady’ patient?”

“She is improving.”  At mention of the dog, animation came into her face.  “Have you not yet seen her for yourself?”

“I have not the privilege of visiting Flea’s domicile.”  He lost the battle to refrain from touching her and took her gloved hand in his, lifting it just short of his lips and caressing it.

“Not at all?”  She tugged on her hand, but when he resisted letting loose of it, she left him in possession.

He smiled at this small triumph.  “I do not even know where it is.  He has been remarkably reticent about the place, and I have not forced the matter.  I can always find Flea when I need him, through Pearl or his friends, and I know his usual haunts.”

“I did not realize Flea had granted me such a rare privilege.”  She made another effort to free her hand, but this time he not only hung on, he upped the level of his caresses, slowing the tempo and rubbing his gloved fingers over each of hers in turn.

God, this was incredibly erotic.  He could stand like this all evening.  Perhaps not, on second thought.  He would lose control.  “He was worried about that dog.  You made an impression on him when you treated Ned’s cold.”

High color crept into her face, and she moistened her lips.  “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“I think the play is about to resume.  The box must have emptied by now.  Shall we go back?”

Her eyes widened in relief.  “Yes, that is a good idea.”

Buy Links:

Amazon US ~ Amazon UK ~ Amazon Canada ~ B&N ~ CreatSpace


About Judith:

headshotI live on a mini-farm near Seattle with my husband, daughter, some horses, two cats, and a number of Collies — we’re a dog show family.

Our vintage farmhouse needs constant upkeep, which we can barely keep up with, since it always needs new paint or new fences or…Luckily the most recent thing we repaired is the plumbing, so that’s working pretty well these days. With us living out in the country, we experience frequent power outages. There’s nothing more romantic than huddling under blankets in front of a cozy fire in the fireplace, with more blankets blocking the drafts from the other rooms in the house. The downside is that without power the well doesn’t work, either.

My husband and I like to get away as often as we can, taking off for a few days at the ocean or the lake. I usually bring my laptop with me on these excursions, working on whatever my current writing project is. I love to travel to more faraway places also. Our most recent adventure took us to the Amazon. The river, not the online book-and-everything seller, though I do confess I spend a lot of time there also, and anyplace else that has books. You can tell that by the stacks and boxes of books all around the house.

My favorite destination, though, is England. My most recent trips there, in 2003 and 2005, were with groups equally fascinated with the Regency period, and we visited many sites with associations to that time. Heaven! There’s nothing like actually seeing the locations where my stories took place, even if altered to varying degrees by the 200-some years since those events happened. As a bonus, the gift shops at many of the museums and historic sites have more lovely books that I would never have come across at home!


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Please welcome Historical author Collette Cameron back to the blog! Collette will give a copy of her new release, Triumph and Treasure, to one of you who tells her you want it.

As always, we’ll start with the lovely cover.


Now the blurb.

A disillusioned Scottish gentlewoman.

Angelina Ellsworth once believed in love—before she discovered her husband of mere hours was a slave-trader and already married. To avoid the scandal and disgrace, she escapes to her aunt and uncle’s, the Duke and Duchess of Waterford. There, Angelina learns she is with child and poses as a widow, hoping the cur she married won’t find her as he’s sworn to do. Determined to establish a comfortable life for herself and her unborn child, Angelina vows she’ll never allow her emotions or a man to victimize her again.

A privileged English lord.

Flynn, the Earl of Luxmoore, leads an enchanted life. Powerful, charming, and perpetually cheerful, he’s wooing the woman he hopes will soon be his countess. His well-laid plans are crushed when his father, the Marquis of Bretheridge, commits suicide after losing everything to the Duke of Waterford in a gaming wager. Stripped of all but his title, Flynn is thrust into the role of marquis as well as provider for his disabled sister and invalid mother. Unable to pay his father’s astronomical gambling debt, Flynn faces social and financial ruin.

Waterford suggests a repugnant solution to Angelina and Flynn’s dilemmas. The duke will forgive the entire debt if Flynn marries Angelina. Desperate to protect his family, Flynn accepts Waterford’s proposition, though it borders on blackmail. Reluctant to marry a stranger, to protect her unborn child and escape the clutches of the madman who still pursues her, Angelina agrees to the union—but only for a year.

Can Flynn and Angelina salvage anything from a marriage neither one wanted, or will they go their separate ways when the year ends?

And last but not least, the excerpt.

Angelina had no business taking note of any gentleman’s appearance, especially his mouth. And what in heaven’s blessed name was she doing sitting in a tree, talking with him as if they were making polite conversation in a drawing room? She didn’t even know his name, for pity’s sake.

“Can you get down yourself?”

He dismounted. After removing his gloves and hat, he placed them on the same boulder she’d used for her stockings. He spied her discarded belongings, his gaze pausing on a stocking dangling from a bush. A purely masculine smile bowed his mouth.

Mortification swept her.

He held his riding crop as he purposefully made his way to the tree. He placed a booted foot atop the branch resting on the ground. “Here, I’ll come up.”

“No, I can manage perfectly on my own. You assure that devil keeps his distance.”

Sure-footed, Angelina edged along, her bare feet gripping the limb beneath her. Her injured toe protested, but the pain was unimportant. She must make haste. It wouldn’t do to be discovered with a man without a chaperone present.

The stranger released a hearty chuckle and raised the crop. “That’s what this is for. One or two sound smacks on his muzzle usually does the trick nicely.”


“And what happens if it doesn’t do the trick?” She maneuvered the last few inches to the fork in the tree.

The gentlemen pointed the crop at the tree. “We run for it. He’s not named Deamhan for nothing.”

She sniffed. “Deamhan? Oh, that’s Scottish?”

“Yes, Gaelic for demon.”

“A most fitting name. Only Satan would be more appropriate.”

Shoving hair off her face, she stepped onto the lowest limb and hesitated a moment before taking his outstretched hand. She nearly jerked hers away when a jolt of sensation vibrated clear to her shoulder.

Once safely on the ground, she disengaged her hand. “Thank you.”

“I’d bow before I introduce myself, but I don’t trust him.” Gesturing toward the dozing bull, the man flashed perfect white teeth.

Of course they were. Just like Charles’s. And what a bounder he’d turned out to be.

New rule.

Don’t trust men with nice teeth.

She met the gentleman’s curious perusal.

Buy link: Amazon

About Collette:

Collette CameronAward winning, Amazon best-selling author historical author, Collette Cameron, has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master’s in Teaching. Author of the Castle Brides Series and Highland Heather Romancing a Scot Series, Collette writes Regency and Scottish romances and makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and five dachshunds. Mother to three and a self-proclaimed Cadbury Chocolate chocoholic, Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, trivia, and all things shabby chic. 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.

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