Lady Gemma Kemsley is in dire straits. Her cousin Alfie inherited her father’s estate upon his death. He quickly bled it dry of funds and is turning his lecherous intentions toward her. Alfie wants to have complete control over her inheritance. Without Alfie’s approval she can’t marry. She has one option—run away and live with her best friend in America.
When his sister begs Liam Marsden to help Gemma he reluctantly agrees. He has a past with Gemma he’d rather forget—involving a failed attempt at betrothal and her professed love. When he sees Gemma again he realizes he can’t ever let her go. Instead of sending her to America he uses the old betrothal agreement to marry her.
Gemma doubts Liam truly loves her. Can he convince her of the veracity of his love or will he lose her forever?
Excerpt:
Liam stepped toward her and caressed her cheek with the tips of his fingers. Her gaze locked with his. Her breathing became ragged as she gulped in air in short fast bursts.
“What are you doing?”
Instead of answering, Liam leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Her mouth opened up as she gasped. It gave him an advantage, and he saw no reason not to take it. The tip of his tongue touched hers as he pulled her tighter in his embrace. Liam coaxed her with his mouth—wanting to fill her with every inch of desire coursing through his veins. She needed to be with him every step of the way. This was only the beginning of his fight to own all of her soul. Her body relaxed against him, and he took it as a sign. She wasn’t as immune to him as she wanted him to believe. Gemma still wanted him. He could use that and he would.
Liam took a step back, pleased with what he saw. Gemma’s eyelids were closed, her lips slightly parted and moist, and her cheeks a pretty pink. Her eyelashes fluttered up, and irises of green fire met his—she looked both a little dazed and well pleasured. They could move forward now. He’d managed to get her exactly where he wanted her—he’d built a craving in her she’d never experienced before. Soon, he’d make sure she got a taste of it all.
“The carriage awaits us outside. I think it is time for us to depart.”
Gemma cleared her throat and sook her head. She looked up at him and nodded. “Very well.”
Liam hooked her arm over his and for the first time that evening believed that they may have a chance. She hadn’t once snapped at him since she walked down the stairs.
“You look lovely, by the way. I love the color green on you.”
Author Bio:
Dawn Brower holds a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology, a Master of Arts in Education, and is currently working on a Master of Arts in Liberal Arts with concentrations in Literature, History, and Sociology. She works as a substitute teacher and enjoys the flexibility it gives her to concentrate on her other endeavors.
Growing up she was the only girl out of six children. She is a single mother of two teenage boys; there is never a dull moment in her life. Reading books is her favorite hobby. There is nothing like a nice glass of wine and a good book to relax with at the end of the day.
There are always stories inside her head; she just never thought she could make them come to life. That creativity has finally found an outlet. Visit http://www.authordawnbrower.com for more information.
Today, we are featuring Starry Knight by Nina Mason, the author of The Queen of Swords and Devil in Duke’s Clothing, among other books. Starry Knight is Ms. Mason’s fifth novel and the first in a new erotic paranormal/urban fantasy series titled The Knights of Avalon. The series–which combines paranormal and occult elements with Celtic and Arthurian legend–tells the story of four “knights” under the spell of the evil faery queen Morgan Le Fay.
Can these star-crossed lovers bridge two worlds?
British aristocrat Vanessa Bentley has beauty, fame, and fortune, but
she gets no respect for her decision to become a paranormal
investigator. Determined to prove the naysayers wrong, Vanessa ventures
to the misty moors of Caithness, Scotland. There stands the immense
Castle Barrogill, where a vampire is rumored to be stalking the
dungeons—a vampire Vanessa is determined to find. She’ll just have to
get past the resident shape-shifter…
Callum Lyon is the gorgeous reclusive astrologer and faery knight who guards the castle. For free-spirited Vanessa, seducing him proves to be easy. After all, he was once a breeding drone to a Queen. But astrologically, their differences are harder to overcome. Will Vanessa’s mission—and Callum’s secrets—be more than their burgeoning love can take? Or will flesh—and blood—win
over the ghosts that haunt them both? ….
In
this scene, the hero, a centuries-old faery knight whose life has been devoid
of romance, is doing his best to woo Lady Vanessa, a free-spirited “poor little
rich girl” and paranormal investigator who, unbeknownst to him, is using sex to
gain access to his castle. He’s spent the day showing her around Caithness and,
in the midst of a sunset stroll on the beach, has suggested they take shelter
from the wind in a nearby cave.
Callum got to his feet, took
Vanessa’s hand, and pulled her across the dunes toward the cliffs. She couldn’t
see the entrance to the cave until he swept back a curtain of vines. She
followed him through the narrow entrance, holding tightly to his hand. The
interior was cool, dark, and smelled a bit fishy, but not offensively so.
Stepping in front of her, he put a
hand on her chin and lifted her gaze to his. The spark between them was
palpable and she longed for him to kiss her. She licked her lips invitingly,
hoping he’d take the hint.
“You’re very bonny, mo dearbadan-de,” he said softly,
seductively, as he brushed back a wayward strand of her hair.
“What did you just call me?”
“My butterfly,” he said, “in
Gaelic.”
She put her arms around his neck
and offered him her mouth. He accepted, nibbling and flicking his tongue
against her lips. She pulled the band from his ponytail, freeing his windblown
mane. As it tumbled around his shoulders, she wove her fingers among its silky
strands, pressing his mouth harder against hers.
When he offered his tongue, she
greeted it with her own. He moaned—a deep, needful sound that dumped accelerant
on her desire. She thrust her hips against him, finding him as aroused as she
was. He pushed back, grinding against her as he walked her backward toward the
wall of the cave. As her back met rough rock, warm fingers came under her
blouse, climbed her ribs, and pushed under her bra. As he teased her nipples,
something deep in her core turned all soft and molten.
She was air, he fire, and right
now, she wanted his light and heat, wanted him to consume her in a crackling
blaze.
He broke out of the kiss, moved his
mouth to her ear, and nibbled the lobe. She grew weak in the knees as his
tongue traced the sensitive inner folds.
“Why do you run away from love, mo dearbadan-de?” he whispered huskily.
“Do you see it as a trap?”
“More a fraud than a trap.”
“And sex isn’t?”
“With sex, you know what you’re
getting.”
“And when it’s over, you’ve got
nothing.”
“How is love different?”
“I don’t know,” he said, “having
never felt it.”
“We’re alike in that,” she said, “but from what I’ve observed, it’s a mirage people only chase because they feel
incomplete within themselves.”
Taking her face between his hands,
he trained her in his riveting gaze. “Do you truly believe that?”
“Yes.”
He let her go, turned his back, and
stepped away. For the longest time, he stood there, just out of reach, saying
nothing. Then, as suddenly as he’d turned his back, he rounded on her with eyes
like yellow coals. “Tell me, Madame Butterfly. Who made you feel so unlovable?”
The question impaled her like a
red-hot spike. Damn him for asking it, for digging so deep, for skewering her
with his probe. She suddenly felt ridiculous, like some poor little rich girl.
She’d been born into wealth and privilege. What right did she have to be
unhappy? So what if her parents didn’t love her or she had no true friends.
Boo-fucking-hoo.
Get over yourself.
What right did she have to wallow
in self-pity when children were starving, people were dying of Ebola, and the
planet was being raped on a daily basis? She deserved no compassion, despite
the searing wound she did her best to ignore.
“I have no idea what you’re talking
about,” she said in a voice that sounded faint and faraway under the
blood-thunder in her ears.
“No? Then why have you closed your
heart?”
Defiance bubbled in her heart like
hot tar. Damn him for trying to get past the battlements she’d spent years
erecting hurt by hurt and brick by brick. If anything, she should build her
walls higher where this bedeviling baron was concerned, not let him wear them
down like rain.
“Did you bring me in here to
psychoanalyze me?”
“No,” he whispered, the heat of his
breath caressing, soothing. His hand glided purposefully down her body and
pushed between her legs. As he stimulated her through her knickers, she threw
back her head and expelled a soft sigh—of pleasure and relief. A rapacious
lover, she was equal to. A probing one, not so much.
As he stroked her through the satin
crotch of her knickers, desire fluttered in her abdomen like an injured bird.
He’d struck too close to home. She’d didn’t feel loveable because she’d never
felt loved. Not for one single, solitary moment of her entire privileged life.
She’d had a chain of nannies who believed children should be seen but not heard
before being packed off to boarding school where she was treated with equal
detachment. Her parents, in short, had hired others to raise her—no, make that train her. In their eyes, she was a hunk
of clay to be molded, not a human being to be nurtured. How disappointed they
must have been when they got an outspoken nonconformist in place of the pretty
marionette they’d paid for.
Callum’s finger came inside her
knickers and began to circle her clitoris, smothering her bitterness in the
syrup of pleasure. The orgasm charged and retreated, charged and retreated, and
then finally exploded in a heavenly cascade.
Setting his hands on the wall on
either side of her head, he docked his forehead against hers and said, “I’d
rather chase the mirage than die alone without hope in the desert.”
Here’s a little more about the series from the author:
The Knights of Avalon, the four-part erotic PNR/UF series
Starry Knight launches, was born of a simple idea: to write a series
incorporating different forms of divination. From that kernel grew the far more
complex world of the series. The “knights” of Avalon, the enchanted otherworld
isle featured in Arthurian and Celtic legend, were Scottish noblemen who, after
falling in battle, were taken by the fairies to serve as breeding drones to
their queen. Each of the four books in the series tells the story of a
particular knight and the heroine whose love saves him from his unhappy
existence.
Each knight grapples with a different relationship
with Morgan Le Fay, the cruel and selfish queen of Avalon. Callum Lyon, the hero
of Starry Knight (book one), is free of Morgan’s influence, having escaped enslavement
after faking his own death. Leith MacQuill, the hero of Dark and Stormy Knight
(book two), was expelled from Avalon after the queen discovered his amour with
one of her scouts. In book three, which I’ve yet to write, Axel Lochlann, a
rune-casting Scot of Viking descent, guards the portal between Hitherworld (our
realm) and Thitherworld (the otherworldly realm). The fourth knight, Finn MacKnight, doesn’t know what he is or that he’s destined to fulfill an ancient prophecy telling of the queen’s overthrow by a “natural-born” drone. Because of this prophecy, Morgan kills all the male children she bears and punishes the knights who
father them
Avalonian knights are vampire-like, but not vampires per se. Members of the Unseelie Fae, they drink blood and can assume the form
of any creature they choose, but generally take the form of a particular animal to hunt. Callum’s preferred form is a lion, Leith’s is a Kellas Cat, Axel’s is a gyrfalcon, and Finn’s is a jaguar.
Astrology is the new-age element featured in Starry Knight (hence the name). Callum, the court astrologer to King James IV, fell in
battle in 1513, after warning the king the stars did not favor the invasion of England. Ignoring Callum’s advice proved costly to the king and his astrologer.
In modern times, Callum lives in the northernmost county of Scotland as a reclusive political astrologer. The heroine, a
free-spirited English aristocrat named Vanessa Bentley, comes to Caithness with the goal of getting inside Barrogill Castle. She’s just finished her training as a paranormal investigator and the London paparazzi have been giving her a
hard time. Legend has it a vampire lives at Callum’s castle, so she decides to seduce the gorgeous, golden-haired baron to gain entry to his otherwise inaccessible abode. Needless to say, both get a lot more than hot sex (but also plenty of
that!) from the bargain they strike.
Tarot cards, voodoo, ghosts, and the more
traditional form of vampire also play roles in the plot. I hope readers enjoy Starry Knight and the rest of the series as much as I have enjoyed writing it!
Here’s a little more about the author:
Nina Mason
Nina Mason is a hopeful romantic with strong
affinities for history, mythology, and the metaphysical. She strives to write
the same kind of books she loves to read: those that entertain, edify, educate,
and enlighten.She has four books out at present and three more on the way. Her current
releases are, in order of publication: The
Queen of Swords, a darkly erotic Scottish paranormal romance/urban fantasy; The Tin Man, a political thriller;
and Devil in Duke’s Clothing and The Duke’s Bedeviled Bride, the first
two installments in an erotic historical series titled Royal Pains. Book three
of Royal Pains will be released in October.Starry Knight is the first book in a
four-part paranormal romance series titled The Knights of Avalon. The series
combines Arthurian legend, Celtic mythology, and Scottish history to tell the
story of four mortals taken by the faeries after falling in battle. The Knights
of Avalon are the breeding drones of the legendary sorceress Morgan Le Fay.
Book Two, Dark and Stormy Knight, will
be released in January 2016. The series is being published by
Lyrical/Kensington.
YouTube Channel: http://www.youtube.com/ninamasonauthor Here’s the link to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for a signed copy of STARRY KNIGHT and other great prizes:
I’m thrilled to share Julie Johnstone’s new release, My Enchanting Hoyden, with you today! Julie was gracious enough to share a peak at this shiny new gem, but that’s not all! She also brought a freebie along!! I will stop teasing you now and get to the good stuff.
Blurb:
A bargain born of desperation ignites into passion as one lord’s quest to save his family leads to the discovery that he can never settle for less than love.
Forsaken, abandoned, and duped, Miss Jemma Adair has no other recourse but to request her grandfather’s help to avoid living on the streets. His asking price? She must marry a neighboring lord’s odious son. Thankfully, there is a way out of her dilemma—ensuring the rake never asks for her hand. But what is Jemma to do when her ally is an all-too handsome silver-tongued lord with a penchant for poetry that makes her question giving her heart to another man?
Philip De Vere, Lord Harthorne, wishes to marry for love, but inherited debt and family obligations force him to seek a wealthy wife. Yet experience has taught him that ladies of the ton prefer rogues to gentlemen with a poet’s soul. But when an unrepentant hoyden claims to know a thing or two about how to make a man a rake, Philip finds he cannot resist Jemma’s offer or her.
Excerpt:
Philip barreled out of the study, down the corridor into the main hall, and brushed past the footman who was reaching to open the door for him. Philip, needing an escape from his own thoughts, flung open the door and stormed outside. He would have kept going straight to his awaiting carriage if he hadn’t crashed right into something very soft. That something let out a hearty umpf that told him right away the something was a someone. And when he looked up, he realized that someone was Jemma, teetering on the edge of the steps, her eyes wide and her arms waving frantically in the air as she tried to right herself.
For a moment, he stood stock-still, fascinated with the emotions careening across her lovely face. Determination. Fear. Frustration. Back to determination. An inspiration of words hit him: An Ode to a Tempestuous Woman.
She swayed backward, and he reached out and snagged his hand about her waist to save her. He meant only to bring her forward, but he overestimated how hard to tug and she ended up barreling into his chest, her hands grasping—no doubt in self-preservation—both his arms. The beat of her heart hammered against his chest, and the poetic words that had failed to come to him for more months than he could remember flowed through his mind as he stared down into her dazzling eyes. How had he failed to notice that gold flecked her blue-green eyes? He’d never seen the likes of her color.
“I could write a hundred poems about your eyes,” he blurted, lost in them.
Immediately, she tugged away, then moved down to the step below him and tilted her head up to look at him. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the setting sun, or maybe to hide her eyes from him so he wouldn’t wax eloquent about them anymore. He felt like a fool. He could make a joke of it to save his pride, but he refused to do so.
The moment she realized he wasn’t jesting was clear by the flair of her nostrils and the subtle way she tried and failed to inhale a deep breath. “How boring that would be,” she finally said. She lifted her chin. “Would it go something like, She had round eyes, very oddly colored both green and blue?”
Ah. She didn’t truly see herself. Given that he barely knew her, he couldn’t decide if the revelation was surprising or shed light on her prickliness. If she saw herself as odd, maybe her sharp wit was a defense against her insecurity. The thought tightened his chest. His sister had seen herself in that same light for most of her life, and it had been hard to watch the toll it had taken.
Devil take it. He should simply leave, but he couldn’t do it. He wanted her to see herself through his eyes, so she would have a bit of confidence when having to brave the cruel ton in her debut. “I think the poem would go more like this: She had eyes of emeralds and sapphire ice, entrancing and fearsome at once. Beguiling, beseeching, bewitching in thrice…”
His heart pounded as he looked at her. He didn’t know where that had come from, but he was damned proud of it. That was his one last act as a non-rake.
She turned her face away for a moment, and when she glanced back at him, she shook her head, almost as if at herself. “You have a beautiful gift for lying.”
He frowned. “Was that your version of a compliment?”
She cocked her head and drew her eyebrows upward. “Take it as whatever you desire.”
He wanted her to realize she was lovely because soon she would realize how little it might matter without a dowry, but it appeared he had bungled it. He could feel the heat in his cheeks. Rakes didn’t blush, damn it all.
“I do not lie, Miss Adair.”
“You’d be the first man, then, Lord Harthorne.”
“Jemma!” a voice said in clear dismay from a few steps beneath her. Philip blinked in surprise at Jemma’s sister, Miss, Miss― Ah, hell. Her Christian name had completely escaped him. He could recall she was the younger sister, though, so propriety demanded he use her Christian name. Jemma had struck him dull-witted. Fine start to being a rogue, this was.
He sketched a hasty bow. “I didn’t see you standing there Miss…?” He certainly couldn’t pretend he remembered her name when he’d just told Miss Adair he didn’t lie.
“Miss Anne,” she said, offering one of her pleasant smiles.
She was a pretty thing, her pale looks currently all the fashion, but strangely not compelling to him as her flame-haired, freckle-flecked sister was. Everything about Jemma begged inspection, dissection, and quill to paper to figure out the conundrum she presented. Whereas Miss Anne appeared to be an open book. There was nothing wrong with that, but he had always liked the puzzles of life.
He cast a sideways glance at Jemma and found her studying him as if he were some foreign specimen she wasn’t sure whether to crush under her slipper or capture in a jar. “It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he said to Miss Anne.
“You’ll be seeing more of me,” the young lady gushed. “And my sister. We’re making our debut this Season.”
His gaze immediately went to Jemma’s face. He couldn’t help it. She displayed her displeasure vividly. A dark scowl marred her lovely features, and her lips pressed into a thin, white line. Clearly, she was not nearly as pleased to be making her debut and partaking in the Season as her sister was. He could relate. The prospect of countless balls filled with nonsensical chatter, false smiles, and his having to actively search for an heiress did not entice him in the least, but it was necessary.
“I wish you both happy hunting,” he said, unsure what else to say. “I’m certain we will run into one another again very soon.”
Jemma snorted, and her sister elbowed her in the side. Jemma cut her eyes to her sister before focusing on him once again. Something mischievous stirred in the depths of her eyes that matched the wicked smile suddenly lighting her face. “Is that what you are doing, Lord Harthorne? Hunting?”
“Are you?” he parried to sidestep the need to lie.
“No. I’m running.”
“Jemma,” her sister groaned.
She shrugged. “I doubt Lord Harthorne is bothered by me speaking my mind. Are you, Lord Harthorne?”
He had to smile. He rather liked her bold nature. “As long as your words don’t sting me, I am not bothered a bit. In fact, I find I’m quite intrigued.”
Her eyebrows knitted together. “My aim is not to intrigue.”
“Don’t you want a husband, Miss Adair?”
“About as much as I want the plague,” she replied cheekily.
He threw his head back and laughed, even as her sister grabbed her hand and started tugging on her. “I’m terribly sorry, Lord Harthorne. My sister is not herself tonight.”
“I’m myself,” Jemma called over her shoulder as her sister dragged her up the few steps to the front door.
As the door opened, Philip remembered the money in his coat. He’d forgotten to give it to his sister. “Miss Adair!”
Jemma swung around to face him and quirked her brows up. “Miss me already?”
By God, she was an outspoken lady. He itched to get home and create a poem worthy of her.
Teaser:
Jemma licked her lips and batted her eyes. “Smile wolfishly,” she whispered. “And then reach for my face as if you want to touch it and can barely hold yourself back.”
Philip complied, immediately coming a hairbreadth from touching the delicate slope of her cheekbone. His entire body so ached with the need to touch her that his fingers trembled and he had to clench his hand into a fist in order to stop himself. He hissed as he snatched his hand back and pressed it to his side.
Her eyes widened as she looked at him. “That was utterly believable,” she said in low, hushed tones. “You are a very quick learner.”
Everything about her beckoned him in. “It’s easy to play the rake with a teacher as beautiful as you.” Hellfire. He was out of control. He had to compose himself and remember who he was, who she was, and what could never be.
Julie Johnstone is a USA Today best-selling author of Regency Romance and the author of a new urban fantasy/paranormal romance book. She’s been a voracious reader of books since she was a young girl. Her mother would tell you that as a child Julie had a rich fantasy life made up of many different make believe friends. As an adult, Julie is one of the lucky few who can say she is living the dream by working with her passion of creating worlds from her imagination. When Julie is not writing she is chasing her two precocious children around, cooking, reading or exercising. Julie loves to hear from her readers. You can send her an email at juliejohnstoneauthor@gmail.com or find her at www.juliejohnstoneauthor.com, or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/authorjuliejohnstone or on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/juliejohnstoneauthor or at twitter @juliejohnstone
Thank you so much for stopping by today and sharing your new release, My Enchanting Hoyden with us, as well as bringing a gift!
Musings by Mandy 