#MysteryMonday #SardinianSunset

 

Title: Sardinian Sunset

Author: C. L. Kraemer

Genre: Fantasy/Paranormal

Book Heat Level: 1

 

Buy at: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple, Kobo, Google Play

 

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TAGLINE

 

Olivia Francesca Porcu Martin buys a home in Ollolai, Sardinia, for one euro. As she rebuilds the home, she’s also repairing her life.

 

BLURB: Sardinian Sunset

 

What starts as a crazy idea to buy a house for less than the price of a cappuccino, becomes the journey into Olivia Francesca Porcu Martin’s ancestry. The home she purchases was in her family for generations until her grandmother fled to America.

Olivia is fleeing but not a war-torn island. She is searching for roots and will find them in a small town in the hills of Sardinia. 

 

Crossing paths with a student traveler named Destiny, opens doors Olivia felt had been closed forever. It doesn’t hurt that the licensed Contractor named Rafaele, who wins the bid to help her remodel her home, is good looking and modest. 

 

Two determined, independent Sardinian souls make Destiny’s job difficult on the best of days. But as we all know,you can’t fight Destiny.

 

 

EXCERPT: Sardinian Sunset

 

Lightning slashed across the sky and thunder drummed in Destiny’s ears. The strange vessel began to turn on its axis, swirling faster with each passing second. Destiny lost her balance. Her head hit the floor hard. She heard the crack then nothing more except roaring in her ears.

When she opened her eyes, sunshine filled the tiny cabin. She pressed her hands to her temples trying to ease the pain throbbing through her head. Slowly, she found her way to the deck.

The sky was a vivid blue with a few clouds lying close to the horizon, Reid’s ship was nowhere to be seen, although the sailboat sat in the same cove. She didn’t know how to sail a boat; didn’t have any idea how to get to land. Would Reid sail without her? Good Lord, she hoped not. She’d have to find another job, and she’d have to find another man she could trust.

A boat passed by, and she waved at it, hoping someone would rescue her. It came about and headed back her direction. Watching the craft come closer, she held her breath, praying for her safety.

“Can we help?” someone from the vessel asked as it pulled up close. “You look stranded.”

“I’m lost. Yes, stranded,” Destiny admitted, shrugging her shoulders as she tried to assess this man who seemed to be offering aid. “Can you take me somewhere close by?” While she’d made several trips with Captain Stewart, she’d never been on the land, never left the boat. She had no idea what this island had to offer.

“Where are we?”

“Sardinia. I’ll take you to Ollolai. That’s where I’m staying. You know anybody there?”

“No,” she was shaking her head and wondering what she would do to survive. “I can cook. Does anyone need a cook?”

The man chuckled. “I’ve heard another guest at the hotel mentioning her need. Climb aboard.”

 

~ * ~

 

Destiny Rose groaned. “Where the hell am I?” Her head pounded and, she surmised, she must have hit it on one of the many rocks covering the interior of this—what the hell was this anyway? She must be in a newer century than the last. Her head throbbed and she placed a hand on the back of her head, flinching at the pain. Oh, right. Boat, water, storm, floor. And a rescuer, not a pirate, assisting her to the shore. How the heck did she get from the coast to this, thing?

She could only bide her time, of which she had plenty, to discover her final destination. A jet keened overhead giving her the hope this was the 20^thcentury. Well, of course it must be, you ninny. You were brought to the center of town in a motorized vehicle.I must have walked here. But why?She tested her limbs by stretching; waiting for the inevitable pain of something broken and was pleased to find her parts in good working order. She sat up and observed the three-sided structure. “Hmmm. Manger? Could have been much worse. I’ve a covered refuge, for now. This will give me time to explore where the fates have landed me.”

Cloaking herself in a cover of wariness, she peeked around the corner of the stone shed. The small out-building was placed at the back of a home two-stories in size and encompassing some area. She noted a path leading around the side. If the shed where she currently stood was a home for animals, they’d been gone for a long time. No fresh hay or presentslittered the rocky ground. She listened carefully but detected little movement in the surrounding hills. The area is not heavily peopled.

A movement caught her attention. She noted a face appear in one of the windows on the ground floor. Destiny pulled back into the shed. She stilled her pounding heartbeat, afraid the soul inside the building would hear and chase her away. Don’t be such a ninny. Subterfuge was not her strong point. Doesn’t need to be.Standing against the back wall, she was sweating profusely. Her 19^thcentury clothing was hot, scratchy and, with the help of a gentle breeze, alerted her to the smell of brine and oily cooking clinging to her person. Fates be cursed, I need a bath.An abode with four walls and water close by would be deeply welcomed. There may not be creatures seeking her for a midnight dinner, but she wasn’t about to tempt the fates any more than necessary.

A motorized sound reached her ears followed by crunching fading into the distance. Hope she might explore the bigger structure blossomed. A familiar tickle spread across her scalp. This had to be her new assignment. Destiny scratched her head then stepped into the open. No sounds assaulted her ears. The person inside the structure must have left. Marks about the size of a supply wagon showed a vehicle moving toward a faint line down the hill, which must be a road.

She inched her way across the back of the house checking each point of entry. Window—no, unable to open. Second window—same result. Bloody hell, was she going to have to stay in that little…place tonight? Not the optimal choice. She sighed and pulled up tall. One more window. Pulling on the bottom of the frame resulted in movement. The squeal of swollen wood on swollen wood caused her ears to ache. In one quick movement, she pulled up, swung over the frame and landed on smooth stones.

Sliding down the sturdy wall, she blew out a breath. Allowing the span of a few minutes to pass in which she steadied her pounding heart, Destiny stood and closed the window. Pullinginthe frame didn’t seem to have the same effect. No screeching. Now to do a quick surveillance of the property. She poked her head into an area she presumed to be the sitting room. Down a long hallway to a sleeping room on the first floor complete with a bathing room. Thank goodness.

She peered around for a bucket to fill the white horse trough she thought must be for said purpose. There were some fancy knobs on one side. Her curiosity pushed her to twist them. Nothing. Well, what are they for then?There must be a well close by. Opposite the horse trough was a funny looking chair. Destiny was puzzled by this bit of furniture. It didn’t face a mirror but the trough. Why would people wish to place a chair in that spot? Bugger. There was so much catching up she needed to do before the end of the week. The sands of time were slipping through her fingers. She had the sensation this task wasn’t meant to be but a brief interlude into the life of the assigned.

She poked around some of the other rooms on the first floor. A quick jaunt up the stairs and a brief inventory of the remaining rooms, including another bathing room with the same weird set up of funny chair facing a horse trough. Why would people bring their horses up to the second floor and watch them drink? Were they that valuable?All the exploration in a house covered in decades of dust and dirt was taking its toll on Destiny. Trudging down the stairs to the first floor, she decided if she was going to stay here for the night, it might prove to her advantage to stay near the ground. Recovery would be easier with bumps and bruises as opposed to broken bones should she need to leave in a hurry. Traveling back to the kitchen, she spotted a narrow door at one end of the room. Opening the closure proved to expose storage for cleaning equipment. Thank goodness the broom appeared to be the same, whatever time this was. She grabbed the tool and determined she’d pick one of the rooms and give it a dust up.

The chamber, second opening off the hallway, was her choice for tonight’s slumber. She couldn’t recall peering inside this door. The window beckoned. She jimmied it open to allow fresh, cool air to enter and escort some of the dust motes to the exterior of the house. Using skills she’d been called upon to employ at her last location, Destiny dry-swabbed the floor with the broom. The center of the room was covered with a patterned carpet. Once she shuttled the dirt into the hall, she turned to view her chosen sleeping chamber. The sun shone on a carpet of such quality Destiny gasped. She dropped to her knees, ignoring the fine dust marking her dark britches. Gently, reverently, she reached out her hand and caressed the quality fabric. The weaving was the finest she could recall seeing—ever. Much as she hated to admit it, the finished product rivaled her own. This night she would experience the pride of Sardinia. Maybe a good night’s rest might help her come up with a plan to help this assignment—person. She really was going to have to speak to the boss about a vacation. Too many assignments in too short of a time were dulling her ability to relate to them as people.

Twinges slicing through her forehead drew a moan from the traveler. “Not now. I don’t have time for this.” The warning was a precursor to a raging headache rivaling a drunk’s hangover. It was her recompense for time travel. Bed. Sleep will chase away the demon.Destiny lay on the magnificent carpet and easily slid into a deep slumber.

 

 

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Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081GBXTXZ

 

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sardinian-sunset-c-l-kraemer/1134900387;jsessionid=0335804E1817688603E91C35CFE85216.prodny_store02-atgap17?ean=2940163130894

 

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#RomanceSunday #ShadowDancer

 

Shadow Fire

Courtney Rene

EMail:ctnyrene@aol.com

 

Genre:YA/ Paranormal/Fantasy

Book Heat Level: 3

 

Buy at: Amazon, 

 

BLURB:  Shadow Fire

 

No one really knows who Leif is. They know the man he portrays and the things he has done, both good and bad. He was a boy that came from nothing and grew into a man full of rage that almost killed the one person he set out to save. He roams the realms waiting for death. Waiting for an absolution that doesn’t come. Then a rumor surfaces. A threat has been made against Sunny. Leif sets out to try to right the wrongs of his past. He sets out to do what he was meant to do from the beginning, save the queen. Can he do it alone or will he have to do the one thing that is hardest for him, which is:  Ask for help. 

 

 

EXCERPT: Shadow Fire

 

"I have been looking for you."

I opened my eyes, turned my head, and stared up, way up into a pair of big brown eyes fringed in long lashes. Eyes so dark they looked almost black.

"You're a hard person to find."

That was the point. I didn't want to be found. I liked my hermit existence. I didn't have to see anyone or talk to anyone if I didn't want. I liked to roam the realms and see what I could find. There were so many things we didn't know about the four realms. It wasn't so much as fun, as it was time consuming. That was what I wanted, though. The sooner time passed, the better off I would be.

"You look like crap, Leif," she said when I didn't respond.

Her voice, although lowered in disdain, was soft and feminine. If I weren't waiting for death, maybe I would have cared more. I tried not to notice her creamy, pink tinged skin. I tried not to notice her high cheekbones, and lush lips. I tried not to, but I did anyway. How could I not? She was beautiful. Not that I cared.

"Man, and you stink. God, when was the last time you shaved…"

I lifted a hand up to my face and felt the length of coarse hair that covered the bottom part of my face. How long had it been?

"…or taken a bath for that matter."

A bit longer than I had realized apparently. "What do you want, Cinder?"

She was silent for a moment. Was it my voice? It was gravelly with disuse, but the tone was indifferent, not aggressive.

Finally she said, "I came to bring you this." This, being a sunshine yellow envelope with my name written in bold calligraphy on the front. She held it down to where I lay on the rocky red ground.

I hesitated a moment before I took the proffered envelope. I didn't open it. I could only stare at the writing. I knew the writing and, therefore, who it was from without even having to open it. What did she want? What did it say?

"Why are you here? Why are you laying down there on the ground like that?" Cinder asked.

I used her questions as an excuse to put off the inevitable and said, "I like it down here." I lay sprawled out on the rocky red dirt that made up the Fire Realm. The air was hot, the sun even hotter. If I lay there long enough, maybe I would just evaporate and be gone. No more Leif. No more running. No more hiding. Just gone. Finally.

"Yeah, but why?"

I didn't answer, instead my attention returned to the yellow envelope. I lifted the unsealed flap, and slid out the thick ivory card with silver writing.

…cordially invited…..

…..Sunshine…..

….Lucas….

….Wedding.

I slipped the card back within the envelope and dropped it down next to where I lay. One grain of the red clay had found its way on top. My eyes fell to that red dot.

"So?"

"So, what?" I said still focused on the grain of clay.

"So, are you going to come?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

I stayed silent. Everyone knew why not.

"She's not mad at you. In fact, she misses you. She talks about you all the time," Cinder said.

She did? Did she talk about how I tried to kill her? What about how I used her?

"She really is hoping you will come. That's why I'm hand delivering your invite. She wanted to make sure you got it. Saw it."

Did she really want me there? Was it all just a joke to get me back for all I had done?

"Will you at least think about it?"

 

 

 

 

 

#SciFiFantasySaturday #defyingTheOdds

 

Title: Defying the Odds

Author: C. L. Kraemer

Email: clkraemer1@gmail.com

 

Genre: Romance/Fantasy/Paranormal

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 2

 

Buy at: Amazon: 

 

BLURB: Defying the Odds

 

The night elves on the hill aren't happy without their magic. They concoct a plan to punish those who were involved in the act that rendered them almost human. Meanwhile, Uther, the rogue night elf, has returned to woo the Librarian to be his eternal mate.

 

EXCERPT: Defying the Odds

 

 

In a meadow east of Eugene, Oregon

 

Bram ambled up the roughly hewn stairs to the willow lounge chair located at the front of his home. He pulled the scrimshawed pipe from his pocket and filled the bowl with his favorite blend of black cherry tobacco. The paced routine of loading the ivory bowl with fragrant leaves and tamping them firmly into place was one of his favorite after dinner rituals. Withdrawing a matchstick from the inner pocket of his vest, he struck the sulfured end against a river rock he'd placed on the root of the towering oak that served as his home.

The fading evening sky showered the mountains in hues of gold and red. Pushing away the light, a blanket of dark blue velvet sprinkled with luminous star points soon prevailed. Bram puffed smoke rings at the darkening heavens.

"Evenin'." A scruffy black and tan terrier mix meandered up and, after circling three times, lay next to the chubby gnome.

"Evening, Silas. How's the family?"

"Well, thank you. Daisy announced we're expecting--again."

Bram chuckled into his beard. "Congratulations."

"Humph. I'll be glad when we're both too old to care. I came over to ask if there are any jobs in sight. I'll need to be working as much as I can now."

It seemed he got one batch of kids out of the house and another was on the way.

Silence stretched between the business partners. Bram pulled deep draughts on his pipe, blowing the smoke away from his friend. His eyes were drawn to the large block of light spilling from the picture window of the behemoth on the hill. The Saun clan, night elves whose callous actions nearly destroyed the fae population of the meadow and surrounding forests, owned the out of place monstrosity.

Bram squinted his eyes to focus his vision on the methodical movement that broke the beam of light. He could just make out a figure pacing rhythmically in front of the casement. Unable to ascertain which of the night elves was engaged in the determined striding, Bram was sure of only one thing…if the night elves were restless and unhappy, the rest of the valley was in trouble.

 

~ * ~

 

Gitty paced in front of the picture window, ignoring the expansive view of the green valley below. The thick carpet covering the hand selected hardwood floors muffled the angry stompings of her boots. At the end of each turn, she jabbed the air with her finger.

"Think you can take away my magic, do you?" She spun on the ball of her foot and stamped to the other side of the room. "We'll see about that!" Jab, jab.

Morgan, the younger of the two siblings, stretched his limbs languidly across the fine leather couch, watching the angry display being played out in the living room, a smirk residing on his lips.

"What has your knickers in a twist?" His leg, hanging over the arm of the couch, swung slowly back and forth.

Gitty broke her tirade for a moment. "I'm surprised yours aren't. How can you tolerate not having magic to use?"

"Because, dear sister, I don't needmagic to get my way. I have my," he waved a hand up and down his body, "obviousattributes."

Gitty grimaced. "Please. Don't make me sick."

Pulling to an upright position, Morgan stretched his long legs in front of him, tucking his hands behind his head.

"You're just jealous."

"Hardly."

"Then what's your problem?"

"I don't fancy living my life in pubs among the scum of the valley sponging off the pity of strangers. My plans include owning all I see."

Morgan rose from the couch and faced his sister.

"Good luck with that. Even the Others are wise to your quest for power. I'm going out. See you later." He moseyed out of the living room and down the hall.

Gitty gritted her teeth. Morgan might be her brother, but he was useless when it came to thinking beyond his next good time.

She glared at the source of the fingers of light stretching over the meadow. The owner of the Lending Library was an Other the local fae had embraced with open arms. Even Uther, the one-time leader of the night elves and her uncle, had taken a personal interest in the older female.

"Must be losing his sanity."

She spotted a pinpoint of red light glowing in the far distance. As hard as she tried, she couldn't sense the origin of the light.

"I hate not having my magic!" She smacked the wall with her hand, immediately regretting the action. Bolts of pain shot up her arm.

"Damn it!"

Turning on her heel, she tramped out of the room.

 

#Friday'sFeaturedTitle #HighlandMagic

 

Highland Magic

Christine Young

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 3

 

Buy at Amazon: 

 

 

BLURB: Highland Magic

 

Throughout the Highlands she is known as Keely, the witch woman. She is a great healer-a woman whose dreams come true. Ian MacPherson is a man who puts honor, loyalty and duty above everything. Their lives are entwined when Ian is sent by the Scottish King to bring Keely to trial for witchcraft. He is attacked and left for dead, but Keely rescues him. When he wakes, he discovers he has no memory. As he remembers his lost past, Ian finds that his need to protect the woman who has saved his life eclipses his duty to his king and country. He is a man torn between honor and duty to his country and the woman he loves.

 

 

REVIEW: Highland Magic

4.0 out of 5 stars February 24, 2013 By  H. Murphy "H"

 

I have enjoyed this series. Strong alpha highlanders....what more could a girl want. The heroin is strong but sometimes just doesn't think....but that makes for the drama. Off to the third book.

 

 

Excerpt: Highland Magic

 

Scotland, Summer 1513:

 

For a moment the man's gaze met hers, bored into her heart, questioned. Blood curdling war cries rode the wings of death through the timeless night. Claymores clashed. Dark eyes the color of midnight flashed a challenge. The holy man's opponents hesitated then lunged once more.

 

Moonbeams reflected light from the gold chain he wore around his neck. Brown robes fell from massive shoulders. Three more enemies appeared from the trees. The priest fell to the ground, wounded by the broadside of his enemy's weapon. Motionless, he lay on her flower-strewn meadow, blood staining the grass and wildflowers, marring the colorful, summer landscape.

 

Keely Gray woke, heart pounding a rapid staccato. She pressed against her throbbing temples with sweat-slick palms, hoping to ease the horrific pain that always accompanied the dreams. Death--the scent of blood, fear and treachery still hung heavy in the darkened hut. The prickling sensation radiating from her spine to encompass her body was too familiar.

 

She listened and heard nothing.

 

A dark void impaled her. The usual night sounds stilled. She heard no hoot of owl, no chirp of crickets, no croak of frogs, nor could she hear the mournful sighing of the wind through the branches of the old oak trees.

 

Silence emptied her heart as well as her soul, leaving only an ever-present loneliness.

 

Keely wanted nothing more than to cuddle into her bed and pull the covers over her head. Despite the unspeakable agony deep in the pit of her stomach, she rose from her pallet. Her limbs trembling, she slipped a shapeless tunic over her head and soft-soled shoes onto her feet. As she swept past the front door, she grabbed her woolen cloak.

 

Light from a full moon illuminated the path. She could see, but she could also be seen, the moonlight both a curse and a blessing. Approaching the meadow she'd watched in her dreams, she slowed her pace and waited. Her fingers wound tightly around the amber pendant she always wore, her only keepsake from her mother.

 

The sounds and scents hovering on the wind would tell her if danger still lurked. Caution guided her. A vigilance she'd learned long ago held her motionless.

 

 A familiar dragging sound reassured her she wasn't alone. "Whipple?" she whispered.

 

A self-appointed guardian angel appeared as if from nowhere then nodded, though there was a wary cast to his faded blue eyes. "Aye, lass, I'm here. I heard ye leave your hut. I would not leave ye alone to face whatever dangerous mission awaited."

 

Keely waited for Whipple to close the distance between them before she spoke. "I would argue with you about your appearance here at this great hour, but I ken it would do no good. You should not be here. Your heart--"

 

Whipple spat. "My heart is fine."

 

She determinedly stepped forward, approaching the meadow of her dream, knowing she wouldn't like what she found.

 

"Have it your way, then." Given a choice, Keely wouldn't have come to this meadow. But she had to know the truth--had she seen the future or something happening at that very moment?

 

Whipple didn't reply. On his clubfoot, he followed her, his trailing leg sliding behind him with a soft swish. The hard thud of his crooked oak cane followed at a slightly skewed interval.

 

Together they crested the hill. Below her, she saw her dream. A priest lay on the ground, his head twisted at an odd angle. For a moment her heart stopped. She bit down on her lower lip while she studied the man.

#MyAngel #HistoricalRomance

 

My Angel by Christine Young

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 

 

Buy at Amazon: 

 

 

BLURB: My Angel

 

A BEAUTY IN BUCKSKINS 

When her father decided to send her to a finishing school back East, Angela Chamberlain refused to be confined to stuffy drawing rooms. Instead, the daring spitfire who could shoot like a man and ride like the wind longed for a life of adventure and romance—and she knew exactly who could give it to her. Devil Blackmoor was a hired gun with a dangerous reputation. But Angela was willing to go to the ends of the earth to capture the handsome devil's heart.

 

A DEVIL IN DISGUISE 

He'd come to America looking for excitement, but Devil Blackmoor got more than he bargained for when he encountered a beautiful rebel who answered his kisses with a wild innocence that touched his very soul. Yet standing between them were more obstacles than either ever dreamed. For Devil had strapped on a gun for the wrong man. And that made Angela his enemy. Now he'll have to choose between his duty and the woman he loves more than life. 

 

EXCERPT: My Angel

 

Denver, 1893

 

A polished azure sky looked down on a day that vacillated between winter and spring--a day unable to make up its mind. Cool breezes lifted Angela Chamberlain's brand-new canary yellow skirt off the moisture-laden sidewalk. A blazing hot sun dried the puddles in the street left over from last night's deluge.

 

Unlike the day, Angela had no trouble making up her mind. Angela knew what she wanted out of life. She touched one finger to the sapphire earrings adorning her newly pierced ears.

 

She wanted adventure.

 

She had a terrible craving to see the world--to climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower, to walk the Great Wall of China. She yearned to fly in a hot-air balloon high above the earth, or ride in a gondola in Venice. She wanted to fall in love with a man who was as brave and smart as her father and as dangerous as Devil Blackmoor.

 

Angela's wish list had no end.

 

Instead of adventure and romance, in three short weeks she'd be enrolled in Miss Somebody's finishing school for young ladies, where knowing which fork to use was more important than riding with the wind on her favorite horse, Kangee. A place where changing one's clothes three times or more each day was common practice.

 

Two days ago she'd told her father she didn't want to go.

 

And two days ago her father had told her she would learn to appreciate the schooling and that she was a very lucky young woman. He'd also promised her a trip to the continent for a graduation present.

 

A graduation present! She wanted to yell at him, but wisely kept her mouth shut. She wanted to travel now. Today. But more than anything, she didn't want to be confined to the stuffy drawing rooms in the East. Just like her father, she needed freedom. But her father meant to take the choice from her.

 

To gossip and chatter with rich society women was not her destiny. To know which wine was served with fish would not make her happy. This was his dream for her. Sam Chamberlain needed to look to his own heart and remember the choices he had made twenty-five years ago.

 

Her destiny was out there somewhere, waiting for her to snap it up and hold the moment close to her heart. She knew what she wanted, and to prove her point, she'd bought a camera and had the machine sent over to the hotel. She meant to photograph all her adventures, every nook and cranny, every monument, every intriguing person.

 

Across the street and down two blocks, Devil Blackmoor had just taken the saddle off his horse. He brushed the stallion's back, all the while petting the animal's sleek coat and crooning into the horse's ear. Mesmerized, she watched his hands and the gentle way he stroked the horse. 

 

She wished she had her camera.

 

Devil Blackmoor commanded her attention. He symbolized everything a father cautioned his daughter to be wary of. Despite the warning, Devil's strong jaw, his powerful shoulders and the confident way he held himself beckoned to every feminine nerve in Angela's body.

 

Angela clutched her hands to her chest, willing her gaze to shift to something or someone who wouldn't shatter her senses and set her blood boiling. Helpless to control her wayward heart, she kept looking back at Devil. She noticed everything about him, the way he moved, the way his denim jeans clung to his legs and the way they molded to his backside. Devil laughed at something the bouncer from the saloon said, andwhen he smiled, one edge of his mouth tilted crookedly. Ange­la's heart swooned and fluttered, and she thought she might never breathe again.

 

#LovingLeslie #HistoricalRomance

 

Title: Loving Leslie

         Bad Boys Book Five

Author: Christine Young

Genre: Historical romance

Book Heat Level:

 

Buy at:Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple, Kobo, Google Play

 

Read first chapter

 

TAGLINE

 

Leslie Stewart is used to having his life well ordered until he meets Lacie McTavish who has known since the tender age of fifteen this is the man of her dreams.

 

BLURB

 

He's a bad bad boy...

 

Leslie Stewart, Duke of Southcliff is stoic, set in his ways, a spy who is used to having his life well ordered. He expects life to continue on in this perfectly conventional fashion. He assumes his bad boy status while keeping mamas and debutantes at arm's length. An heir is needed but Leslie has every intention of finding a woman who doesn't covet his wealth and tittle. He is irresistibly drawn to the headstrong young lady who becomes more beautiful as she develops into a woman.

 

...but she is loving him.

 

When Leslie kisses Lacie MacTavish, she knows even at the tender age of fifteen this is the man of her dreams. Forced to wait until she comes of age, Lacie withdraws into herself. Now she is eighteen and Leslie has returned from a mission for the British Government ready to claim her as his bride. She refuses him and he must find a way to seduce her and in the process create a burning passion within her, which she cannot deny.

 

EXCERPT

 

A storm was coming. Maybe more than one if he had to guess. Sunshine would disappear and be replaced with snow or rain. Looked like snow to him.

Pushing his hat back, he spotted a rider due east of the house. It was Lacie, racing the wind as well as the darkness. He watched her as she neared the house and veered toward the stables. She would take care of her horse first then leave for the house. In the stables where he kissed her for the first time, he would confront her. Perhaps this scrape of hers was really nothing and could easily be dealt with.

The gallop looked reckless, but he knew her expertise when it came to riding. Still he worried a hole in the ground, a small animal, anything could spook a horse and throw its rider. For the duration, he held his breath, his heart beat doubling in time as his breath held steady in the back of his throat.

Once she was safely inside the stables, he walked Garth toward the barn, handing the reins to the stable boy then proceeding to the stall where Lacie was brushing down her horse. Her dark hair had come lose from all its pins and was in glorious disarray framing her delicate features.

He crossed his arms, leaning against the stall door, much like he did the day he first kissed her. Watching her was like seeing heaven, and he’d been away for so long all he wanted was to pull her into his arms, feel her soft warmth against him, filling his soul with heat and fire. He realized he missed her. Her face was flushed from the ride. He was sure her skin would have a sheen of moisture covering it, much like he imagined when they finally made love.

Tonight he hoped if everything went as planned, she would be in his arms and sweetly beneath him. Perhaps a start on an heir, he needed to stop tongues from waging and his mother from nagging.

Her start of surprise made him grin and raise one eyebrow.

“It’s you.” She sounded panic struck, one hand just above her heart as she gasped for air. She closed her eyes for a second, her breasts heaving.

“Welcome home would be nice.” He stepped forward only to see her back away from him, terror on her face.

He stopped midstride but had no words, unsure of how to proceed. He couldn’t fathom why she was afraid of him, why her eyes were wide with terror.

She swallowed, wiping her hands on her riding habit. “I’m sorry. You did surprise me. Welcome home, Leslie.” Then she turned her attention back to her horse just as if her husband wasn’t standing two feet away from her. Picking up a blanket she started to cover the animal.

“A hug would have been nice, too, as well as I missed you my dear husband. Perhaps even I’m glad to see you or a kiss on the cheek. At the moment you look as if you detest me, or are terrified of me. I don’t know which scenario is worse.” He wanted more than a kiss on the cheek, but he knew by the sheer terror he saw in her dark blue eyes flecked with tiny particles of green even that intimate gesture wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

What to do?

“You’ve been gone so long. I nearly forgot what you look like,” she spoke softly, unable to look at him, continuing to administer all her affections on her mare. She stopped to stare at him, her eyes still wide but this time more uncertain than terrified.

This was not like Lacie. So foreign, he didn’t understand. Couldn’t comprehend what was happening here. For the longest time, he stood unmoving, watching the jerk of her muscles as she worked.

She turned back to her horse as if she was hiding from him. He knew he wasn’t going to pull her into his arms then kiss her as he did that day so long ago. Now, it seemed, he needed to tread lightly until he could figure out what was going on with her. That scrape must have been devilishly more than a minor incident. He needed for her to tell him what it entailed.

“What do you want, Leslie.”

She didn’t look at him. No, she sounded as if she wanted him to go away. Her voice was cold, icy.

“You know what I want.” He didn’t move toward her, just settled for watching her for the time being.

 

 

KEYWORDS: Historical, Romance, Scottish, Highlands, Bad Boys, Regency

 

 

Website: http://christineyoungromancewriter.com

 

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LINKS

 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08HW9S34P

 

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/loving-leslie-chirstine-young/1137638492;jsessionid=928CE1573A0115BEAD2FD870E4A561D8.prodny_store01-atgap14?ean=2940162644682

 

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/loving-leslie/id1531794972?itsct=books_toolbox&itscg=30200

 

Kobo:  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/loving-leslie

 

Google Play:https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Christine_Young_Loving_Leslie?id=jnb8DwAAQBAJ

 

He's a bad bad boy...but she is loving him. When Leslie kisses Lacie MacTavish, she knows even at the tender age of fifteen this is the man of her dreams. Forced to wait until she comes of age, Lacie withdraws into herself. Now she is eighteen and Leslie has returned from a mission for the British Government ready to claim her as his bride.