I hope you’re having or had a wonderful Easter weekend!! Do you have an animal in your story? If so, post an except with the beastie in it. If not, pick any excerpt and post it. Buy links are welcome.
Here is my excerpt from Lady Beresford’s Lover, which releases in July.
Vivian strolled into the parlor. It was well appointed with walls and curtains matching the ones in the bedroom. On one wall, long windows flanked a French window which led to a small balcony where one had the promised views of the park. A chaise rested along the inside wall, two comfortable-looking chairs stood before the fireplace, and a writing desk was situated between two windows on the other outside wall.
“I’ve got the fire going in your bedchamber,” the housekeeper said. “If you want I’ll have the one here lit as well. Your bath will be up in just a bit.”
“Thank you.” Vivian smiled. “I don’t believe I will want a fire here until later. Do you know if my maid arrived?”
“Yes, my lady. I believe she’s pressing some of your clothes, and your cat’s around here somewhere. I saw a footman bring her up. Shall I send your dresser to you?”
“Not at the moment.” Vivian glanced at the balcony, wanting to get a better look at it. “I will not require her until my bath is ready. Could you please bring me some tea? I find I’m quite parched.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Mrs. Murchison bobbed a curtsey, then left the room.
Vivian opened the windows, stepping out onto the balcony. A small table and two chairs were situated off to the side. Gisila paced up to her and chirped. Vivian scratched the cat’s head, then placed her hands on the wrought iron rail and stretched, sniffing the air.
“What do you think, Gisila? It is not as clean as in the country but not as bad as the other parts of London we passed through.”
Gisila sat and stared up at Vivian with large yellow eyes.
“I’m sure Hall will have found a place for your toilet.” She sniffed. Actually what she smelled was roses. Sweet with spicy facets. Looking down, she spied a trellis of pink roses. If nothing else, she would enjoy these rooms.
Glancing over at the Mount Street Gardens, a tall man striding as if he would be late captured her attention. He stopped and removed his hat for a moment, giving her a glimpse of his curly, pale blond hair. Even at this distance, something about him was compelling. His dark jacket appeared molded to his torso, and a well-made torso it was. Tight pantaloons encased his muscular legs. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from him.
Then he looked up, almost right at her. Oh Lord, she’d been caught! Vivian ducked back into the parlor, hiding behind the curtains. Had he seen her? Inching forward, she peered out again, but he was gone.
Now it’s your turn!!
ellaquinnauthor
Ella Quinn ~ Author 
Great excerpt again, Ella and Happy belated Easter. No animals in my story. I’m sure there should be. But I’m sure the hero and heroine are wishing they did have pets rather than out of control Earl with learning difficulties, a pregnant maid (courtesy of aforementioned earl) and a six year old to contend with.
Harriet looked up as William barged into the breakfast room the next morning, loudly explaining to the butler that he did not need to be announced in his own house. He was followed by a skipping Phoebe and a disgruntled-looking second son of a duke.
“Lord Oldbeck, Miss Charville, Lord Stephen, good morning,” said Harriet politely, pasting a polite smile on her face and indicating to the footman to bring up more tea and toast. “Please sit and join us. Have a cup of tea at least.”
“Can I have breakfast, Harry? Charville is in a foul temper. Something to do with you in the scandal sheets and he dragged me here before I could get my ham and eggs.”
She turned a bright smile to her brother.
“Of course you can. This is your house, after all. Just because you are staying with Lord Stephen temporarily does not mean we would starve you.”
“You are in the scandal sheet? Is that because you and Lord Stephen were kissing in the garden?” asked Mary.
“You and Papa were kissing?” Phoebe looked from Harriet to her father, her little nose scrunched up and a look of sheer disgust on her face. “Why do grown-ups do that? It’s horrible.”
“Good God, we did not kiss,” shouted Stephen throwing himself onto the dining room chair beside Harriet. “The scandal sheet is wrong as usual.”
Harriet placed her cup on her saucer.
“Phoebe, did your father ensure you had breakfast or are you hungry too?”
Phoebe looked at her father and bit her lip, obviously unwilling to rat out her beloved papa. Harriet nodded and rose to collect a plate. She placed a couple of slices of toast, some ham and a poached egg on the child’s plate. She moved to turn back to the table but met with a wall of male chest.
“I apologise.”
“For what? Lying or blaspheming at my breakfast table, my lord?” she hissed.
“Both?”
“You did not seem particularly sorry when you were…” She drew in a deep breath, remembering where she was and that she had an audience who were all agog. Luckily, she was good at whispering. “Oh never mind. I do not accept your apology, simply because it seems less than heartfelt. You do not even seem to know what you are apologising for.”
“Well I think Lord Stephen did kiss Lady Harriet last night. Her hair was all mussed at the back when they returned from the garden,” said Mary, giving William a knowing look.
“Maybe they did more than kiss,” said William.
“That is enough!” cried Harriet, her voice just short of a screech. She drew in yet another deep breath, regained her composure and looked from her brother to his fiancée. “This is the breakfast table, there is a child present and we are polite company. Could we please refrain from discussing kissing or anything else that would carry on from such an act? It is not appropriate.”
“Kissing is horrible anyway,” said Phoebe, as Harriet laid the plate of food before her.
“I quite agree,” said Harriet.
“You didn’t agree last night,” came a low rumble in her ear. It took a mere two seconds and she could easily have missed the soft caress of a thumb across the exposed flesh of her neck, but she knew she had not when Stephen picked up his knife and fork and began to tuck into ham and eggs.
Why was every nerve in her body alive? And why was a man who maintained he did not want to marry her intent on vexing her in such a manner? She wanted to climb onto his knee, straddling him and then… what? Well she did not actually know but something told her that it would be pleasurable and that Stephen would know what to do.
http://a-fwd.com/asin=B00TXZYCK2
I’m glad you liked it Em. What a lot your heroine has to deal with!!
Here’s a short excerpt with Celeste’s horse, Shadowdancer from Cursed Book 1.5 Legends of Oblivion
Chills racked my body and I stifled a shudder. Despite draining a murderer’s kajh, life essence, with my power in the last village, the hunger still tugs inside me. Celeste confirmed he was guilty, but I tasted his glee whenever he’d taken a life and bathed in their blood. The vileness of his deeds seeped into me as though I had done the killings. The copper taint upon my tongue and the adrenaline coursing through me remind me of my actions.
Shadowdancer shifted under me and I pulled Celeste tighter to my chest. Even though he is the largest horse I have known, he acts more human than animal. Instinctively, he seems to sense when there is danger about, especially to Celeste.
http://amzn.com/B00JJ7KV22
[…] https://ellaquinnauthor.wordpress.com/2015/04/06/monday-excerpts-38/ […]
Thanks for reblogging, Bev!
This one was a bit of a challenge, Ella! Dogs play a significant part in my contemporary paranormals, but my historicals don’t have many animals (except horses pulling the carriages)…so I really had to search. Anyway, in this scene from LADY OF THE FLAMES, Andromeda has escaped the ball and her traitorous betrothed by slipping out the kitchen door into the night.
Andromeda crept out from under the table. She stowed the knife in the pocket of her cloak and ducked quickly out the back door. Thank God she’d once been a tomboy and had climbed many a wall in the days when she and Fen were childhood friends.
She mustn’t think about him. She clambered onto the coop as the easiest way over the wall. The chickens, disturbed in their slumbers, clucked and fussed. She paused, cursing her lack of foresight, willing them to be quiet, but she couldn’t wait and hope no one had heard. She had to keep moving, to get away. She pulled herself up from the coop onto the wall and lowered herself into the garden next door.
If only no servants were awake, if only no one had a watchdog… She picked her way across the garden. She stubbed her toe on something sharp, suppressed a yelp, and got over the next wall by way of a cistern. Only two or three more houses to go, and she would reach a street…which street? And where would she go?
Not home; Lord Slough would surely look for her there. Poor Aunt Mattie and Papa would be out of their minds with worry, wondering what had happened to her. She thought of several members of the government whom she might approach, but most of them were Lord Slough’s cronies and would think she’d run mad. Between the great Lord Slough and an apparently hysterical female, the choice would be obvious. She needed to find someone who would take her seriously.
She crept through two more gardens and pulled herself over the next wall, scraping her arms on the brick and pricking herself accidentally with the knife, which poked through a hole in the cloak pocket. She had just jumped down the other side when a door opened not ten feet away. She froze, huddled in the shadows, and fumbled for the knife.
A servant grumbled, “Make up your mind, do!” and a cat sidled out the door. The servant shut the door firmly behind it. The cat trotted over to Andromeda and rubbed itself against her leg, purring loudly. Andromeda stifled a hysterical giggle, reminded of a time when she and Fen had hidden together in an orchard where they’d been stealing apples. The owner had almost caught them, thanks to a too-friendly cat.
*Red Lion Street, Holborn.* The address on Fen’s card.
Not so very far away—something over a mile, two at the most.
Fen didn’t love her anymore—didn’t even like her. She cringed at the thought of approaching him, but her own fears mattered not at all when the fate of England was at stake.
All she had to do was get from here to there. She tiptoed across the garden, hefted herself over the last wall, glanced to right and left, and lowered herself into the street.
http://www.amazon.com/Lady-Flames-Most-Peculiar-Season-ebook/dp/B00T0JAWLO/
Happy Easter, Ella! Loved your excerpt and Em and Andrea’s scenes.
I, too, lack a pet in my current release, but there is a scene where the hero notes the lack of pets, so I’ve picked that one from my latest Regency paranormal romance, A Devilish Slumber – inspired by Sleeping Beauty.
EXCERPT:
After what seemed an age with no response to his knock, he debated the wisdom of scaling the back garden wall to gain entrance through a rear door, when the front door opened and a young maid peered out. “Yes, sir?”
Phillip offered his card. “I am here to see Lady Roselyn Ravenstock.”
The maid hesitated. At least Rose had a maid, so that rumor that she had dismissed all her servants could not be true. “Is there a problem?”
“No, sir. I will inquire if the mistress is at home.” She invited him inside.
While he waited, she hurried toward the drawing room. The heavy curtains pulled across the front windows, in combination with unlit candles, shrouded the wide entryway in darkness. He pushed aside a nearby curtain and dust motes floated in the air. A trickle of light pierced the grimy windows to reveal bare walls and cobwebs draping the chandelier.
A shiver of unease traveled up his spine. In the past, the moment he had stepped through Rose’s door, a cat or dog was sure to come sniffing at his boots. Today, there was not a whisper of paws or clip of nails. The place smelled stale and musty. He tapped the face of an ormolu timepiece on a side table. It was silent and still, as if time had stopped in this home.
http://www.amazon.com/Devilish-Slumber-Rue-Alliance-Book-ebook/dp/B00TT7UGR2/
I definitely feel in the minority here with my 11th century new release but here goes. This is from The Gentle Knight:
“Do you have rooms for us?” Peter’s irritation intertwined with his unquenched desire.
“Yes, my lord.” The man bowed slightly then smiled. “We have enough room in our outbuildings to accommodate a small army.”
He didn’t have or need an army at the moment. What he needed was a willing woman.
Peter took another swallow of the warming liquid. He stood. The smoothness of his drink made a pleasant sweep through his body, down into his loins, and up into his head.
Brighit remained unmoving. Her head beside him, blurred slightly. He had the sudden urge to feel the softness of the brown hair that lay hidden beneath the stark white wimple. Run his hands through it. Slide his finger along her unyielding profile and tip her chin up ever so gently so he could meet her mouth for a warm, wet kiss—
Mort coughed loudly from across the table. “You were saying, my lord?”
Mort’s face appeared quite expectant but Peter wasn’t sure what he had been sa—oh yes.
“Well, a warm bed or two would certainly suffice.”
The arousing picture of being in a warm bed with the even warmer body of Brighit beneath him flashed through his mind. Her lovely brown hair splayed across the pillows.
Availabe at: Apple Kobo Amazon Barnes and Noble
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1yjJ2M1 B&N: http://bit.ly/1GH0pxf
In my British Regency novel, Dangerous Deceit by Romy Gemmell, Lydia meets Lord Sheldon in the first chapter when his unexpected appearance driving a phaeton too fast unseats her from her horse. This excerpt is from a later chapter but still includes horses!
As the silence continued, Lydia felt in need of some good exercise. She urged Sprite into a gallop, taking Lord Sheldon by surprise. The land was flatter at first with a few gently rolling hills and a sheltered wood. Lydia rode on past the trees, across a narrow stream and up over the first hill until her hat slid onto the back of her neck and the pins began to loosen in her hair. It was the first time she had felt truly alive for days. She revelled in the exhilaration of the wind in her face that made her want to laugh out loud.
As she slowed to a trot, Lydia was aware that the grey stallion had come alongside her and Lord Sheldon was laughing with her.
“You are indeed a good horsewoman, Miss Hetherington. Trojan was determined to catch up with your mare and we both enjoyed the challenge.”
Lydia smiled with genuine warmth at his praise. She was proud of her riding skills and determined he should not remember her for falling off her horse!
As they rode side by side, all her senses were heightened after the stimulating gallop. She was intensely aware of Marcus Sheldon so close beside her. Even the mare and stallion appeared to be friends.
http://www.amazon.com/Dangerous-Deceit-Romy-Gemmell-ebook/dp/B00LADYDKY
http://www.rosemarygemmell.com
Hi Ella, It’s a really lovely Easter w/e here in Edinburgh. So my extract is set there in 1826 and has horses and sheep with an underlay of rabbits. From Bella’s Betrothal by Anne Stenhouse:
“We must return, if you please. I think you have enjoyed an hour or more in the saddle.”
He watched her desire for autonomy war with her innate good manners and distaste for creating a scene. Would she remember the stench and blackness of the pend where Direlton held her? Would she…
His thoughts were interrupted by Bella turning her horse and urging it into motion. Within seconds she was off across the flat beneath the Crags and around towards the base of Arthur’s Seat. Her horse responded well to her expert control and he had to fight hard to bring Broom up behind her. They left the others behind as they rounded the hill and the water of Duddingston Loch came into view. Charles came up with his quarry but did not dare to grab the reins for fear of causing a stumble. The park was infested with rabbits and their burrows were a constant hazard.
Just as he wondered how this would end, a flock of sheep appeared. The herd called a warning and Bella veered to one side bringing her mount to a stop. He pulled up. Broom shook his great head, rattling the tack, and Bella turned.
She leant down and patted the neck of her hired horse. “Well done, my girl,” she said. The eyes she lifted to him were full of defiance.
He damped the desire threatening to overwhelm him. Whatever she had done or not done with Aubrey Daunton, he would have her as his wife, and she would learn that he would be obeyed.
Anne is blogging the A-Z April challenge on Novels Now http://goo.gl/ILNek6
Bella’s Betrothal is on amazon http://goo.gl/7mh8FI and http://goo.gl/P3lmzk and kobo http://goo.gl/k0b8SN among others
From “Folie Bleue”in Beaux, Ballrooms, and Battles: A Celebration of Waterloo
“…Robert and I wandered off again, away from the discussions of unworthy royals. We headed across a little bridge to an island in the small lake. As we came off the bridge, the ground was wet and spongy. He placed his arm around my waist, and we continued in the marshy grass. His hand was warm and I wished he would never take it away. I hoped he would leave it there for—oh, the next hundred years?…
I looked back at our footprints in the dewy grass, set off by the sun glinting off our tracks. My shoes were soaked but their ruin was a small price to pay for the lasting image of our side-by-side steps. As I write about it, my heart is full. I can see it as if it had been this morning, not more than thirty years ago.”
These excerpts are always such fun, thanks Ella! I love today’s theme, because a stray dog plays a key role in my sweet Regency, The Magpie Masquerade. In this scene, my downtrodden heroine, Marjorie, has exciting news to tell her friend, Mrs. Gosling the cook:
“Well, that dog of yours has caused quite a commotion today.”
Marjorie glanced at her, quickly. “What do you mean?”
Mrs Gosling winked. “No word shall escape these lips, dearie, but I’m not blind, and that mongrel was a-barkin’ fit to break your heart outside, unless there is some other one-eyed dog a-frequentin’ of these here environs, which I do hope and trust there is not.”
Marjorie rushed to the kitchen door and peered out. The disreputable dog, already looking much more alert, didn’t slink away. Instead he uttered an encouraging yelp, then returned his attention to a large bone. “Why, wherever did you get that?” she asked, patting his head and glancing at Gosling.
The cook tossed her head. “If some people will encourage strays, it’s not my fault if they find some bone in the trash.”
“No, of course not,” Marjorie gave the cook a hug. “Thank you, Gosling dearest!”
“No need to thank me! I’m not one to pamper every ragamuffin mongrel in the streets. I have no time nor patience for such nonsense.”
“He may not look like much, but he’s a clever fellow, aren’t you, Nelson?”
The dog wagged his tail and kept gnawing on the bone.
“Oh, so he’s got a name now, does he?”
“He has only one eye, like Admiral Nelson. And he’s also brave and adventurous, aren’t you, boy?” Nelson barked. Marjorie laughed, and the cook gave her a look.
“What’s up with you, Missy? You look pleased as punch!”
Marjorie took a deep breath. “I’m going to a ball tomorrow night!”
“Well!” Gosling gasped. “A ball? Fancy that!”
“Yes, because Aunt Valeria is ordered by the doctor to remain in bed until her ankle heals, and Beatrice cannot go alone, and it is of vital importance that she meet the new earl. So I am to accompany her, as chaperone!”
“Chaperone!” The cook snorted. “And you but a girl out of the schoolroom!”
“Oh, Gosling, you silly, I’ve been out of the schoolroom for years and years! Why, I am turned one-and-twenty! Of course I can chaperone Beatrice.”
“Well, you’ll take the shine right out of her, she’s a pretty enough girl, but nothing to you, dearie.”
Marjorie stared at her, then laughed. “Oh, certainly!” she said gaily. “I’ll be the belle of the ball, no doubt!”
“There’s nothing more likely,” Gosling said stoutly.
“Don’t be silly, no one will notice me! But what fun it will be to– to– dress in something pretty and see all the dancing and hear the music and….Oh, I must prepare!” She dashed out the green baize door just as Forster entered.
The cook wiped her hands on her apron. “Poor thing,” she muttered. “Deserves to enjoy herself a bit, the sweet girl.”
Forster removed his jacket, and sat at the long table. He shook his head. “Maybe,” he said. “But to what end? She just has to come back to fetch and carry for her ladyship.”
“You’d find the cloud in a clear blue sky, you would! What harm is there in the girl going to a ball?”
“No good can come of it,” Forster insisted. “It’s not likely she’ll see another such event. Why get her all excited?”
Gosling took another bone from the stew pot and went to the door. “It does my heart good, it does, to see the child have a bit of fun. Why, she lit up like – like –” She looked down at Nelson. “Like this dog with his bone.”
Nelson wagged his tail and grabbed the bone.
“What harm can there be?” she repeated.
***
The Magpie Masquerade (part 1) available now at Amazon. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00V02GWN6
And here is the cover image (don’t know why it didn’t appear in the original post, so I’m trying again, b/c I love the cover :-D)
Hmm, the coverimage still didn’t show up. Oh well!
I hope you had a wonderful Easter, Ella! Almost all of my books have multiple animals in them! Here’s an excerpt from Wagers Gone Awry which releases tomorrow.
~~~~
Freddy crept forward and dared to sniff around his lordship’s feet. Then, to Brooke’s horror, the dog proceeded to heist his leg on one glossy boot. Yellow pooled around the toe as she and Blythe gaped.
“Freddy, bad boy. Shame on you.” Blythe scolded, bending to scoop the cowering dog into her arms. Her cheeks glowed cherry red. “I’ll put him in the kitchen, Brooke.”
Whispering chastisements, she scurried away, the dog happily wagging his tail as if forgiven.
Mortification burning her face, Brooke raised her gaze to meet Lord Ravensdale’s humor-filled eyes.
“Perhaps I might trouble you for two towels?” He raised his dripping foot and grinned.
Brooke tried to stifle the giggle that rushed to her throat.
She really did.
A loud peal surged forth anyway. Partially brought on by relief that he wasn’t angry, partially because in other circumstances, she might indulged in a flirtation with him, and partially to release nervous tension.
If she didn’t laugh, she would burst into tears.
He smiled while pulling at his cuffs. A bit of dirt fell to the scarred floor. “So what’s this nonsense about Gainsborough selling me Esherton? Your cousin lost the place to me in a card game and said you were months behind in rents.”
http://www.amazon.com/Wagers-Gone-Conundrums-Misses-Culpepper-ebook/dp/B00UQVRATC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1428342777&sr=8-1&keywords=Wagers+Gone+Awry
Thank you, Ella. Here’s an excerpt from my novel, Farewell to Kindness, released last week. Anne is my heroine, and the cockerel, Meg’s entry in the village pet show, is largely an excuse for an excruciating pun a bit later on in the book from the hero’s rakish cousin (something about prizewinning …).
Later, as the sun dipped towards evening, Anne went upstairs with a basket of ironing. She put it down on the seat under the window at the top of the stairs, and sat beside it for a moment. She could hear Meg and Daisy giggling in the room Meg shared with Kitty. Odd. They were meant to be downstairs, grooming their pets on the back step, under Hannah’s watchful eye.
Daisy had a long-haired kitten. Meg’s pet was a large cockerel she’d rescued after a fox had taken its mother last spring. The hen had clutched in a hedge rather than the broody box where Anne could have kept her safe. Most of his brood mates had disappeared along with the mother, or died of fright or the cold in the tangle of the hedge.
Meg had sat in a puddle to coax out a sole bedraggled chick, bringing him inside in the warmth of her hands, and refusing to relinquish him until Anne and Ruth had lined a box with paper and rags and set it in the warmth of the fireplace.
For nearly a month, until its messes grew too big to be tolerated, the chick had lived indoors, mostly in Meg’s hands or her lap. Even now, nearly a year later, the fully grown cockerel followed Meg whenever she went into the chicken run, and took every opportunity to sit in her lap or to balance awkwardly on her shoulder.
And Meg took every opportunity to sneak the cockerel up to her room. On that thought, Anne slipped quietly from her seat, tiptoed through Ruth’s room, and paused at the curtain that separated Ruth’s room from Meg’s and Kitty’s.
Sure enough, she could hear more than Daisy’s giggles from beyond the curtain. Meg was crooning, “Good Mr Peep. Nice Mr Peep. Just stay still, Mr Peep.” And her croon was punctuated by an occasional cluck.
Anne flung back the curtain, startling the two girls who turned, guilt written all over their faces. In Meg’s bed, Mr Peep lay stretched on his back, while Meg stroked hypnotically down his throat from beak to breastbone.
“Margaret Amanda Haverstock, how many times do I have to tell you to keep that bird out of the house?”
http://www.amazon.com/Farewell-Kindness-Golden-Redepennings-Book-ebook/dp/B00TXRW4KA
Hmm – animals. Well, here are some animals from my first Regency, A Feather To Fly With. Alas, they are borrowed…
“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 Merrihew 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.”
“But of course,” Han said. “You can’t separate a boy from his faithful dog, can you?”
“That’s a good thought,” Merry said. “Especially with Lady Sylvia having that fat little pug. I doubt they’d get along at all.”
”
From A Feather To Fly With –
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00IMMIUVY/ref=cm_cd_asin_lnk
LOL! I love the idea of borrowed pets!
Thanks for the opportunity, Ella!
This is from my June release, Only Marriage Will Do, whose cover I revealed today.
Here’s the pre-order link: http://www.amazon.com/Only-Marriage-Will-Pleasure-House-ebook/dp/B00ONTR82M/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8
The clock on the mantle chimed the quarter hour. After one o’clock in the morning and, despite the excitement of the day, her escape from London, her afternoon nap and its disturbing dream, Juliet still couldn’t sleep.
After almost an hour of tossing and turning in her wretched bed, she’d sent Glynis to the kitchen to see if they had kept hot water over the fire. Perhaps a bath would soothe her enough to make sleep possible. Had she brought her lavender oil? So calming. Surely that would help.
She slipped on her robe and padded to her traveling trunk at the end of the bed. She lifted the lid and pulled out the box that held her soaps and perfumes. As she checked the vials, a tentative knock sounded at the door.
“Come in, Glynis.” She uncapped a vial and sniffed the contents. Jasmine. No. Not for the bath.
The door opened.
“Are they bringing the tub? I think the lavender oil will help me relax.”
“Very good, my lady.” The deep masculine voice froze her, vial in hand.
Her head snapped up.
A towering male figure stood shadowed in the doorway.
Dear God, Philippe had found her.
“Or is it Mrs. Dawson perhaps?”
No accent. He was not Philippe. A hired thug sent to kidnap her?
Strength drained away. She dropped the box and whirled around, seeking a way out of the room that suddenly seemed to close in on her.
Bottles crashed and the reek of jasmine filled the room. Juliet shrieked and stumbled back behind the bed. Trapped. Easy prey.
The man raced toward her, calling out something she couldn’t hear for the blood pounding in her ears. The candle he carried blew out. He cursed and reached for her.
“Nooo! Get away. Don’t touch me.” Slapping at his hands, she twisted to avoid him and landed with a thud, flat on her back. Air rushed out of her lungs.
He sped around the end of the bed.
She struggled to scream for Glynis, but produced only a high-pitched squeak.
The man knelt beside her.
Dear Lord, where was her rescuer now?
No animals featured in my stories, but there are mentions of a jungle! This scene’s from my latest release, Revolutionary Hearts.
~~
“How do you know so much about the jungle, anyway?” He leaned against one side of the cave, and she watched his face slip into the shadows. “I thought your entire family worked for the previous general who lived in that house before me. Surely he didn’t send you out for tasks in the trees.”
The unbidden memories sent a fresh wave of pain straight to her heart. “When I was younger, I worked as a maid in the house. But the previous general was… He would instruct me to scrub the floors from dawn until sundown, when I would finally receive a break to eat a meal. All his servants were treated in such a manner.”
“Why?”
“I do not believe he saw us as people. We could be worked like dogs. I would often escape into the jungle, and eventually I no longer worked in the house at all.”
“I see.” Warren reached out to envelope both of her hands into his smooth ones. She flinched. Yet as her skin grew accustomed to the touch, she relaxed her hands in his. It alarmed her how much more at ease she was becoming around him. It was almost as if he provided a source of comfort, something she couldn’t quite name and didn’t care to. “I do not understand why anyone would be cruel to you, though.”
He rubbed his thumb in a circular motion over her hand. Shockwaves from his touch jolted up her arm.
Danger. She wrenched one of her hands from his hold and pivoted on her heel. But his right hand still gripped hers with firm pressure. Her torso twisted as she kept her face turned from his. “Then you do not know enough of the world.”
“I think I do.” His voice was low and husky. A chill ran up Parineeta’s spine and unfamiliar heat pooled in the pit of her stomach. “I’ve seen and known many women during my life. No agent’s or colonel’s daughter has ever been more courageous or intelligent than you.”
Parineeta spun her head around. She wanted—no, she needed—to believe this man. No one had ever said the honeyed words that left his mouth to her before. They were so sweet that she could almost taste her grandmother’s syrup. He squeezed her hand and brought her body ever so closer to his. His musky scent lingered in the air, and she would have sworn he could hear her heartbeat.
“You called me intelligent in the past. Am I?” She lifted her chin, reclaiming her pride and throwing off whatever feeling this man gave her. She would not buckle to her knees before him. “I am here to learn information from you and nothing more, yet you seem to draw me into dangerous situations.”
From Revolutionary Hearts –
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00U7NR38M/ref=cm_cd_asin_lnk
Unknown Love By Prisca Martin
What would you do if you were forced to marry a gentleman you despised? Would you do it for the sake of your family or would you find a way to get out of it?
Lady Amy is forced to wed a man old enough to be her grandfather. The eve before her wedding she runs away. Every detail of her nicely planned escape goes awry and she’s left with only one choice. She finds herself aboard The Blue Rose.
Captain Gabriel Montey is in love with one thing and one thing only, his ship, The Blue Rose. He is determined to live his life at sea in solitude. He never imagined to find a stow away on his ship, nor did he imagine it would be a beautiful blond hair, blue eyed lady.
Having both left London for a better life, they are determined to make sure nothing forces them back. He would never allow a lady to bring him to land. She would do anything to live a life like his. Their determination will either bring them together or make them go their own ways.
When two people find themselves together, love can grow between them and remain unknown, until they allow their hearts to open.
Unknown Love
(The London American Brides #2)
By Prisca Martin
$0.99 / Free on Kindle Unlimited
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00UDSE4K6/ref=cm_sw_r_udp_awd_Q63-ub0945W9G