12 Historical Days of Christmas Winners!!!!!!
Congratulations to all of the following winners:
Day 12
Sara Lindsey-Kati R
Sherry Thomas-Joanne B
Day 11
Anna Campbell-Na
Theresa Romain-June M
Day 10
Robyn DeHart-Stella E and Winnie P
Ashley March-Shukra D
Day 9
Christie Kelley-Chelsea B
Maya Rodale-Sue P
Day 8
Monica Burns-Phyllis N
Grace Burrowes-Phyllis N, Larisa L, June M, Melanie F, Shukra D, The_Book_Queen, Johanna J and Maureen C
Day 7
Eileen Dreyer-Shukra D
Shana Galen-Jeanne S
Day 6
Lecia Cornwall-Heather F and June M
Vicky Dreiling-Katie L, Shelley B and Winnie P
Day 5
Miranda Neville-Kelly M
Karen Hawkins-Chelsea B
Day 4
Kieran Kramer-Diane S
Jenn LeBlanc-Lisa W
Day 3
Caroline Linden-Gisele A
Isobel Carr-The_Book_Queen
Day 2
Erica Ridley-Maria P
Gayle Callen-Maria D
Day 1
Maggie Robinson Giveaway-The_Book_Queen
Stefanie Sloane-Eli Y
Grand Prize Winner
Barbara E
All winners have been contacted via email. Thank you to all that participated.
On behalf of Dani and myself, we would like to thank ALL of the authors that were gracious enough to not only write super awesome stories but donate books and goodies for our Xmas event. We had a blast and we could not have done it without all of you. So THANK YOU!!
On the 1st Day of Christmas My True Lord Gave To Me...with Stefanie Sloane (+ Giveaway)
An heir stuck up the Christmas Tree with Stefanie Sloane
The Saint Who Stole My Heart, the fourth installment in the Regency Rogues series, will be released in April 2012.
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Twelfth Night
or
A Story in Which Bernard, a Cat of Questionable Lineage, Risks His Very Life for Love. Not His Love. But the Love of His Mistress. Not for Him. But for… Oh, Just Read the Story and See for Yourself.
by Stefanie Sloane
Twelfth Night
or
A Story in Which Bernard, a Cat of Questionable Lineage, Risks His Very Life for Love. Not His Love. But the Love of His Mistress. Not for Him. But for… Oh, Just Read the Story and See for Yourself.
by Stefanie Sloane
Sheldon, Derbyshire County
1815
A full Dorset moon sailed high in the winter sky, its’ cool, clear light illuminating the snow-covered Warren estate and the graveled garden walk next to a tall oak tree.
Lady Annabell Warren peered up at her cat Bernard where he clung to a thick branch of the mature tree. Though his full, furry face was hidden in shadow, the annoyance mixed with trepidation in his mournful feline plea was unmistakable. He was stuck. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. Good and stuck.
“I told you so, did I not?” she ventured, stamping her foot in the snow. The superior statement did little to ease her irritation. Nor did it alleviate the numbness threatening to overtake her extremities.
Annabell looked down at her now damp, ruined satin slippers and felt as though she could cry.
Oh, it wasn’t the shoes that squeezed at her heart, though they’d been pretty enough.
No, she admitted reluctantly. Her tender heart was due to the appearance of Rafe Somerset, the Earl of Wexley. Annabell had successfully avoided her neighbor for most of her family’s annual winter ball. Unfortunately, the guests could speak of little else but the earl’s presence and the rumor that the heir of Wexley Hall had come home to take a wife.
“Silly, blasted cat,” Annabell ground out, shaking her fist at Bernard. As to whom the earl would choose for his bride? Well, that appeared open for debate.
But one truth was universally acknowledged: Annabell was not in the running. Her older sister Amelia was everything that an earl would want in a wife. And while Annabell was perfectly adequate in every way, she was not Amelia.
There was no reason for her to hold out any hope. Despite the fact that the two had been dear friends for as long as she could remember. Even though he’d placed a chaste yet all together thrilling kiss on her cheek before disappearing into the wilds of Scotland last fall. Regardless of Annabell’s deep affection for the man. Deep, abiding affection. Affection?
“You love him, you ninny,” she admitted to herself out loud. “Call it what it is. You love--”
“Love who?”
Startled, Annabell spun on her heels and slipped on the icy walk. For one awful, terrifying moment, she was certain she would fall.
Rafe caught her arms and steadied her. “My life has been rather lacking in excitement of late, but you shouldn’t feel the need to endanger yourself on my behalf.”
“What are you doing out here?” she demanded, too taken aback to be polite. He hadn’t released her and the silk bodice of her gown brushed against his elegant green waistcoat. Held so near to him, each breath she drew carried the faint scent of soap and masculine cologne. His tall, solid form fairly radiated heat that beckoned her closer. She wanted to curl against his warmth as she shivered yet again.
“Saving you, apparently,” he said dryly, his lips quirking with amusement.
“Meow-w-w-w-w.”
Bernard’s demanding yowl drew Rafe’s gaze upward. Annabell, too, looked skyward and found her cat glaring down at her.
“I see the old man is still alive?” Rafe asked mildly. “And fit to be tied, from the sounds of it.”
Annabell sighed deeply. Bernard was six, hardly ancient for a cat. But in his short time on earth, he’d already managed to use up fourteen of his nine lives. Annabell was by no means a mathematician, but even she knew the cat was tempting fate. “Honestly? I believe he enjoys vexing me.”
“I would have to agree,” Rafe commented with a wince as Bernard let out another long, wavering howl. “I’ll fetch him for you, Bell.
Bell. She’d always been Bell to Rafe. Truth be told, he was the only one she’d ever allowed to call her such. It had always made perfect sense, the sound of her pet name ringing false whenever it was uttered by anyone else.
Would he still call her Bell once he was married? She had no right to expect so. No right to expect anything, Annabell supposed. Such a privilege would belong to his wife. His painfully pretty and accomplished wife, if Annabell’s luck was to continue along its rather lackluster path. It was maddening. And even worse, completely out of her control.
Suddenly, Annabell wanted to be anywhere else but where she was.
She fixed Rafe with a pleasant smile, the effort almost more than she could bear. “The entire county, nay, the entire country, would have my head on a pike should you plunge to your death on my behalf. No thank you.”
“I will use the utmost care,” Rafe assured her gravely. “And I highly doubt that the entire country would mourn my death.” He winked conspiratorially then grasped a lower branch and swung himself up.
Annabell’s breath caught as he moved quickly from branch to branch until he was just below Bernard’s precarious perch.
“Is that so,” she replied, suddenly emboldened by the utter sense of defeat she felt as he balanced on a frosty branch. “Well, I feel it is my duty to inform you of just what you’ll be up against, my lord. Your extended stay in Scotland only made the eligible young ladies of England that much more hungry to compete for the heir to the Wexley name. They are all but salivating at the sight of you here tonight.”
With one swift, dexterous move, Rafe caught Bernard by the nape of the neck and lifted him free of the branch. The big cat twisted for a moment in protest, then seemed to think better of it and settled in against the man’s chest. “And you, Bell. What about you? Did you salivate at the sight of me?”
Annabelle considered his words as Rafe carefully made his way down the tree. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
Rafe didn’t release his grip on the feline until he stood once more on solid ground. Then he bent over and set Bernard on the snowy walkway at Annabell’s feet. “Do you know why I stayed so long in Scotland?”
Bernard stretched lazily, then stood next to Annabell, his tail flicking back and forth as he gazed up at the two.
“You are full of questions this evening, my lord,” Annabelle replied, staring into Rafe’s bottomless blue eyes.
He took her hand in his and rubbed the pad of his thumb across her knuckles. “I was choosing a wife.”
Her heart constricted further, her breath catching as she searched his beloved, handsome features. “Then the gossipmongers were correct” she managed, barely knowing what she said. “You’ve come home to claim your bride.”
“I have,” he assured her solemnly. “Though it’s rather the other way around. You see, Annabell, every waking thought I had while in Scotland—and most of my dreams, as well—were claimed by you. And only you.”
“What are you telling me?” she murmured, her head seemingly filled with an abundance of light, crystallized snowflakes. The world dropped away and Annabell felt anchored to earth only by the warm clasp of his hands around hers.
“Do you think you have room in your heart for me, Bell?” Rafe asked, his voice raw with emotion. “You would make me the happiest of men if you would consent to take me on.”
“Take you on?” she squeaked, reeling from the possible meaning in his words.
His full lips curved in affectionate amusement. “I’ve been unclear, I see. Let me start anew. Lady Annabell Warren, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Annabell felt the world spin and the flurry of snowflakes in her head began to dance merrily. She threw her arms around his neck. Rafe wrapped his arms around her waist and bent his head as she went up on her toes to meet him. He claimed her lips with a soft, sensuous kiss that threatened to befuddle Annabell further.
“Oh, my,” she murmured moments later, her flushed face tucked against the warm column of his throat, just below his jaw. “You’re not to call me Annabell ever again. Is that clear?”
The deep, masculine chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Is that a yes, then?” he teased.
“Yes, my lord,” she said demurely. “I’ll gladly take you on, though I feel I must tell you that Bernard is nearly the whole of my dowry.”
And when he laughed and kissed her again, Annabell knew with certainty she would never forget this Twelfth Night, nor her cat’s perfect timing.
I really must remember to thank Bernard properly. Perhaps a fish—a very large fish, she contemplated vaguely before Rafe hauled her closer and any thought beyond her future husband disappeared altogether.
###
Want some more of Stefanie Sloane's work?
Only the lure of a collection of rare books bequeathed to her family by Dash’s late father could tempt Elena from her cozy rural life to the crush and vanity of London. But if Elena finds his lordship to be the most impossibly beautiful man she’s ever seen, he also seems to be the stupidest. Which made her body’s shameless response to his masterful seduction all the more unfathomable. Yet when she discovers Dash’s mission to track the dangerous Rook, she willingly risks everything—her trust, her heart, her very life—to join him.
PRE-ORDER TODAY! (Coming April 2012):
Amazon (paperback) | Barnes&Noble (paperback)
Amazon (Kindle) | Barnes&Noble (Nook)
**Giveaway**
Stefanie is offering up her first three books to one lucky winner! Open to international shipping. So make sure to leave a comment and fill out the Rafflecopter form below to be entered!
And don't Forget to head over to Ramblings From This Chick and read Maggie Robinson's special holiday scene (plus ener her giveaway)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
**Grand Prize Giveaway**
On behalf of myself, Dani and a whole host of generous and awesome authors, we will be having one BIG Grand Prize given away to 1 lucky winner. The grand prize consists of a mix of books, swag, and lots of other secret goodies. Believe me, you want to enter to win this prize. Just make sure to leave a comment every day on each post on both blogs and fill out that day's grand prize giveaway form on each blog. You can follow THIS link to today's form for this post or fill it out below after you comment.
That's it. Super easy!
Good Luck everyone and Happy Holidays!
On the 2nd Day of Christmas My True Lord Gave To Me...with Gayle Callen (+ Giveaway)
2 Dukes a Dueling with Gayle Callen
Gayle's novels have won the Holt Medallion and the Laurel Wreath Award, and finaled in the National Readers Choice Awards. Her books have been translated into over eight different languages. She also writes medievals as Julia Latham for Avon Books.
Gayle resides in central New York, with her husband and three children. Besides writing, she loves to read, sing, and delve too deeply into historical research. Visit her website at www.gaylecallen.com
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Background: Merry Christmas! I enjoyed setting my short story during a London Christmas, where Lady Merry is hoping desperately that all her wishes will come true. A Duel For Christmas
by Gayle Callen
Gideon had come home at last.
Lady Meriel Copley—Merry to her family—stood unnoticed in the doorway Christmas morning and stared at Gideon Thornton, the Duke of Ashford, home after three years in the cavalry in India. He was the dearest friend of her brother, Philip, the Duke of Staunton, and now he stood surrounded by members of her family, her widowed mother and her younger siblings. The wax tapers perched in the Christmas tree lent a festive glow to the scene. She was glad none of them noticed her, for she could gaze at the smiling Gideon without hiding the love that was surely beaming from her eyes. She’d spent her life longing for him, even as she, an awkward bluestocking, knew she could never have him. He was too handsome, with his dark wavy hair and brilliant blue eyes, his features as chiseled as a statue’s. His face held differences, too, more lines near his eyes, his cheekbones hollow, as if service to his country had altered him. Yet he would return to moving with ease through Society, where she wanted to be buried in her studies and her research. Gideon, as a powerful duke, a horseman and outdoorsman, was meant to be the center of focus, and the woman he’d begun courting three long years ago would be his perfect match. Not Merry.
But she didn’t pity herself. She would be content with their friendship, with the way they could discuss any topic in their letters. Every letter was precious to her, now tied together with ribbons and hidden away in her room. He glanced her way, and his radiant smile seemed to momentarily soften. She returned that smile with one of her own, and they came toward each other, and distantly she realized their families began to meander toward the dining room for Christmas breakfast.
“Merry Christmas, Merry,” he said softly.
The twinkle in those blue eyes faded into an intense look she couldn’t decipher, as if he stared into her very soul. She wanted to gaze at him in wonder, to revel in the special feeling of being with Gideon, but she had more control of herself than that. She reached out both hands to him, but instead of politely taking them, he swept her into an embrace. With a gasp, she felt the warmth and strength of his broad chest, and melted inside. Surely his behavior was because of his long absence from family and home. And it was Christmas. Her toes literally swept the floor before at last he settled her back to her feet, pulling away to look down into her face. And then she saw the mistletoe hanging above his head, and she grew hot with embarrassment, as if she’d be accused of placing it there. He tipped his head back to follow her gaze, and then met her eyes again. They seemed to be in their own little world, a dream she’d awaken from. And then he kissed her.
She’d never been kissed, hadn’t imagined that the gentle warmth of Gideon’s lips could make her shiver and sway with weakness. What was he doing? He’d never been the sort of man to tease.
And then she heard another man clear his throat, and Gideon let her go. Her brother, Philip, stood there, wearing an ominous frown, and she suddenly remembered his reputation for ruthlessness. Sarah, her youngest sister, stood behind, hand over her mouth, eyes wide with shock. The heat of the kiss now changed into one of mortification. Gideon and Philip stared at each other, unsmiling, and she felt trapped between them.
“Philip—” she began.
But with a motion of his hand, he cut her off. Never before had she truly realized that Philip, the brother who’d once teased her with spiders and frogs, was her guardian. She was suddenly frightened.
“Please leave us,” Gideon said solemnly to Philip, who hesitated, his body tense, before stalking from the room.
Merry looked up imploringly. “Gideon, what can you possibly be thinking? They won’t tell anyone about our foolishness. You’ve been gone so long, and we just weren’t thinking—”
He put his fingers lightly over her mouth, and the shock made her words stumble to a halt.
“There were others behind your sister, Merry,” he said gently. “They saw everything. We must do the right thing.”
She frowned at him. “No.”
He answered with a blink. “Excuse me?”
“One kiss, and you’ll allow yourself to be trapped with a woman you don’t love?” She hugged herself, feeling suddenly so cold.
“Trapped?” he echoed, his body stiffening. “Is that what you think?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. I won’t marry you, Gideon, and there’s nothing my brother can do to persuade me.” She felt the threat of tears, and knew she couldn’t break down in front of him. So she ran from the drawing room and fled up the stairs. Alone in her room, strangely dry-eyed, she tried to analyze everything that had happened. He’d proposed because he felt sorry for her. And Philip—had he been relieved to at last marry off the sister whose only suitors were impoverished young men or widowers with motherless children?
Gideon was her friend, and she didn’t want to lose that. Somehow she would make him see she’d be fine on her own. She crept back downstairs, past the dining room where she could hear happy Christmas laughter, to the drawing room where the door was ajar. She heard raised voices.
“Of course you’re going to marry my sister!” Philip insisted.
“There will be no wedding,” Gideon answered stiffly. “Let it go, Philip.”
“But the servants might have seen, then all of London will know. I won’t have my sister shamed.”
“I’m not going to marry her.”
Merry covered her mouth in dawning realization. Gideon was taking the blame, trying to protect her from her brother’s wrath.
Coldly, Philip said, “Then, sir, I demand satisfaction.”
She gaped at the door, about to push her way in, when she heard Gideon groan.
“You can’t say it like that—no one will believe you. You sound rehearsed.”
“This is rehearsed,” Philip said, exasperated. “But we’re not going to have to go through with it. She’ll stop it, realize she’s being a fool, and then you’ll be married.”
Merry felt her shock and horror fade away into a momentary bleakness. She didn’t want to marry like this—forced into it for the sake of avoiding scandal. Her anger surged along with her determination. She gave a brisk knock, then pushed open the door. The dukes turned to stare at her, and ignoring the rush of love she felt for them, she hardened her resolve.
She closed the door behind her, leaning back against it and narrowing her eyes at both men. “Have you been talking about me?”
“Of course,” Philip said, giving her a ferocious frown. Then he glanced at Gideon. “He won’t marry you, and I won’t stand for it.”
She shot her own ferocious frown at Gideon, who crossed his arms over his chest as he studied her. She was about to protest that she made her own decisions, when Philip interrupted.
“So I’ve challenged him to a duel, and he’s accepted.”
Gideon shot her brother a look as Philip obviously departed from their agreed-upon plan. He seemed to clench his jaw, straightening to face Philip. “We’ll do it now.”
They both turned to her, and she knew they expected her to protest, to eventually give in. But she wasn’t going to ruin Gideon’s life. “You’re making a mistake,” she said solemnly. “I won’t change my mind. But if the honor of you both is at stake, then I’ll accept your decision. No one should know about this, of course, so I’ll stand in as your second—for both of you.”
Neither of them moved, and she felt a little surge of satisfaction as she brushed past them. “Father kept his dueling pistols here”—she opened a drawer of the massive desk—“and they’re still here. I can even load them for you. Philip, you taught me well.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them glance at each other, helpless to object without ruining their plans. And then she saw her brother’s little smirk of superiority, the one he always thought he hid so well. He assumed she’d be the one to back down—but he’d be wrong.
She kept her back to them as she loaded the pistols. “Shall we go? I know the perfect place for a duel.”
She swept to her feet and out to the entrance hall, only setting down the pistol box to throw on her cloak. The butler watched wide-eyed as the two men fell in line behind her. The day was overcast, and faint snowflakes had already begun to whiten the grass, but she marched through it, leaving footprints behind. Inside, her emotions were a jumble of anger and humiliation and pride.
Over her shoulder she called, “I hear you should walk ten paces before firing, but that’s surely too far. Neither of you is a very good shot.”
“Merry,” Gideon began in a placating voice.
“Gideon!” Philip interrupted.
She wanted to glare at her brother—did he really think he knew everything about her, that she’d fall into line with whatever he said?
The stables were deserted as the servants gathered in the mansion for their own Christmas feast. The yard beyond, between the stables and the coach house, was barren but for the thin coating of snow.
With cold fingers, she undid the clasp and opened the box. “Choose your weapon.”
When Gideon hesitated, Philip narrowed his eyes and said, “After you.”
Gideon sighed and gave her a resigned look. “I’m not doing this.”
“What’s wrong?” she demanded, struggling to keep the emotion from her voice. “You obviously don’t mind hurting me, or you’d never have agreed to this ridiculous duel. And who are you both to assume I can’t defend my own honor?” She pulled out a pistol, dropping the box to the ground, backing away, and aiming at them both.
Gideon watched her solemnly, while Philip put up a hand. “Now, Merry, you can’t—”
She pulled the trigger, and they both jumped at the small explosion.
“You missed!” Philip said with astonishment.
“I didn’t miss—there wasn’t a bullet, you fool!”
Gideon’s sudden smile turned into a chuckle.
“Stop laughing!” she demanded. “How dare you two think such a foolish scheme would make me alter my life with something so permanent as marriage?”
Philip groaned and said with disgust, “That’s it, I’m going back to Christmas dinner. You two deserve each other.”
He stalked away, leaving her alone with Gideon, who still wore a tender smile that made tears flood her eyes.
“How could you do this, Gideon?” she whispered. “You know I’m not the sort of woman who would marry a man in love with someone else.”
His smile disappeared and he seemed almost urgent as he took her shoulders in his hands. “Is that what you really think?”
“Think? I know! You were courting Lady Augusta when you left, and she spoke about you to me every chance she could.”
He winced. “She was using you to press her suit. Before I left I’d told her that I didn’t love her, and she was convinced I’d return a changed man.”
Suddenly bewildered, Merry said, “She never married in all these years. I can’t believe…” Her words trailed off. She relived her memories of Lady Augusta, and now saw a subtle desperation she’d mistaken for sadness at being parted from Gideon.
“And how could I write about this in my letters to you?” he demanded, giving her a little shake. “All I ever heard about was Mr. Fogge and your work together. I thought you’d found a kindred spirit, a man who could share your intellectual pursuits more than I could.”
“Mr. Fogge?” she echoed in disbelief. “He could be my grandfather!” She saw the spark of hope that lit Gideon’s blue eyes, felt the flicker of her own deep inside. “But if you really feel something for me, why didn’t you just tell my brother you didn’t care about the scandal of kissing me?”
“I was supposed to tell your brother I was so filled with longing at the sight of you that I could barely breathe?”
Her own breath caught in a gasp as she gazed up at him.
“I was supposed to tell your brother that I love you, before I even told you?” he continued, practically lifting her to her toes as he pulled her close.
She whispered his name, tears falling in earnest.
With gentle fingers, he wiped them away. “Your letters made every dangerous moment in India worthwhile. At night I would reread them over and over and pretend I was with you.”
“Oh Gideon!” She flung her arms around his neck.
They clung to each other, snow falling softly, masking the sounds of London but for their breathing.
At last he lifted his head and framed her face in his hands. “So will you marry me, Merry?”
She laughed through her tears. “Oh, yes, Gideon.”
“Then it will be a Merry Christmas after all.” He kissed her again.
###
Want some more of Gayle Callen's work?
Who is the lady setting London astir?
All is about to be revealed...
Notorious rake Leo Wade is not one for house parties--he'd much rather pass the time in London's gaming halls...and ladies' boudoirs. But when his gambling instinct leads him to believe the enchanting and utterly impossible Miss Susanna Leland is the anonymous model of a shockingly immodest painting...he braves country tedium for a chance to prove the lady's secret.
With one foot already firmly planted on the shelf, Susanna cares not a fig for propriety. But even she never imagined she'd become caught up in a ridiculous game of cat and mouse, and certainly not with the most wicked man of her acquaintance! Susanna has absolutely no intention of letting Leo confirm his suspicions, no matter how persuasive he can be.
Until sweet temptation becomes too much to bear, and they both learn that the price of trust may just be worth every scandalous secret.
Pick It Up Today!:
Amazon (paperback) | Barnes&Noble (paperback)
Amazon (Kindle) | Barnes&Noble (Nook)
Note: EVERY SCANDALOUS SECRET, Gayle's latest release, is available in ebook format at a reduced price of $4.99 on Amazon! And a back list title of hers, NEVER DARE A DUKE, is also on sale in ebook format for $1.99 via Amazon!!
Also note, that Gayle' next Victorian, RETURN OF THE VISCOUNT, will be available July 2012.
**Giveaway**
Gayle will be giving away 1 copy of IN PURSUIT OF A SCANDALOUS LADY, the first book of her Scandalous Lady trilogy to 1 lucky commenter!!! Make sure to leave a comment with your answer and fill out the raffle copter form below to be entered!Don't Forget to head over to Ramblings From This Chick and read Erica Ridley's special holiday scene (plus ener her giveaway)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
**Grand Prize Giveaway**
On behalf of myself, Dani and a whole host of generous and awesome authors, we will be having one BIG Grand Prize given away to 1 lucky winner. The grand prize consists of a mix of books, swag, and lots of other secret goodies. Believe me, you want to enter to win this prize. Just make sure to leave a comment every day on each post on both blogs and fill out that day's grand prize giveaway form on each blog. You can follow THIS link to today's form for this post or fill it out below after you comment.
That's it. Super easy!
Good Luck everyone and Happy Holidays!
On the 3rd Day of Christmas My True Lord Gave To Me...with Isobel Carr (+ Giveaway)
3 French Courtesans with Isobel Carr
Isobel Carr is an avid costume historian and grew up in the wild and entertaining re-enactment community in Northern California. She has participated in everything from The Society for Creative Anachronism to the Renaissance Pleasure Faire (yes, the original one!) to Heyer Con and The Great Dicken's Christmas Fair. So she's made and worn clothing from just about every era from 1400-1900, including the proper undergarments.
Currently, she lives with her mastiff, Clancy, in a 1916 bungalow in Oakland, California and when she's not writing, she's usually working on the house. She's also often found at the Heart and Dagger near Lake Merritt. Just look for the girl with the giant dog.
You can find out more about her by visiting her at isobelcarr.com.
Currently, she lives with her mastiff, Clancy, in a 1916 bungalow in Oakland, California and when she's not writing, she's usually working on the house. She's also often found at the Heart and Dagger near Lake Merritt. Just look for the girl with the giant dog.
You can find out more about her by visiting her at isobelcarr.com.
Find Isobel Online: Website | Blog on History Hoydens | Twitter | Facebook
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3 Courtesans
by Isobel Carr
by Isobel Carr
“You don’t like Frenchwomen, my lord. Remember?” Elise raised her brows just enough to imply disdain and stared the Duke of Normanby’s second son down. Her stomach fluttered and her throat went dry. He’d been in a rage the last time she’d seen him. Angry with his father, annoyed with her, furious that the world wouldn’t bend to his will.
Lord George stared right back at her, dark eyes narrowing behind thick lashes as he held her gaze. He filled the narrow corridor of The Crown and Anchor, wide shoulders and long legs barring her way. The urge to step back from him was nearly irresistible. He loomed. An easy enough thing to do considering he topped her by more than a foot, but somehow it was an active thing when he did it, rather than a mere result of their heights.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” he said as she forced herself to push past him. Her skirts tangled with those of his greatcoat, clinging, impeding her progress. Elise inhaled sharply and yanked them free.
Three quick steps and Elise could hear voices from the public tap room. The gruff cacophony of a dozen English voices. Strange to her ears even after several years in their capital. She swung about to enter the private parlor she and her friends had reserved in advance. Elise’s hand tightened around the knob, the urge to slam the door in Lord George’s face rushed through her veins, heady as hot wine.
Before she could do so, Lord George strolled in after her, as though he had the right to command its use—to command her. Elise glanced over her shoulder as Lord George shut the door with an indelicate swing of his booted foot.
“I believe, my lord,” Elise said, “it might have been hearing you say so that left me with such a clear impression of your dislike. On more than one occasion if memory serves.”
She didn’t wait to see if her barb had struck. Instead, she hurried towards the fireplace and the welcoming glow of the coals. She’d hoped to find her friends waiting for her, not Lord George. Adele and Ghislaine must still be resting. Or they’d discovered Lord George was there and were avoiding him. Wise of them, if so.
The floorboards creaked as Lord George followed close behind her. The coals popped and Elise whisked her skirts away from a stray ember. She ground it out beneath her shoe.
“I’m fairly certain what you heard was a complaint about one particular French woman.” The deep rumble of his voice worked its way through her, seemed to lodge in her sternum.
Elise poured herself a glass of brandy from the decanter the mantel, purposely failing to offer her uninvited guest a glass of his own. “A maddening creature with a Gallic temper?”
“As fate would have it, yes. Fairly good aim, too.” He rubbed a long scab that cut across his forehead and disappeared into his hairline. There was a faint halo of a bruise around it, a hint of lavender that would bloom to purple black in the coming days.
“You must have provoked her.” Elise dropped into one of the chairs that were drawn up to the fireplace. She stroked her free hand over her skirts, smoothing the plain kerseymere over her knees.
Lord George smiled, his eyes still grim. “Constantly, I’m afraid.”
He moved to pour himself a glass of brandy. Elise studied him in the failing light. He appeared to have ridden hard, his boots and the skirts of his greatcoat were spattered with mud. His queue was tangled, the bow reduced to a straggling knot. Whatever she’d expected after parting his hair with the heel of her shoe, it hadn’t been this.
***
Geo tossed back the entire contents of the small glass of brandy and allowed himself a moment to savor the burn as it slid down his throat. He set the glass back down on the mantel and braced his shoulders against the length of plain wood. Elise watched him warily from the embrace of a somewhat battered wingback chair.
You’d never know she’d left London in a mad scramble, half her possessions scattered across the floor of the house they shared in Queen’s Street. He’d left for a few hours to give her time to calm down, and come home to an empty house and a babbling, hysterical valet.
At the moment, Elise looked every inch the proper young matron, perfection from her artfully-arranged dark curls to the silk bows of her kidskin shoes. Even the simple coral necklet about her throat spoke of moneyed elegance and tasteful restraint.
It was a beautifully constructed lie. Until a week ago, she’d been the most dazzling courtesan England had seen since Kitty Fisher.
“The rest of your things should arrive in time for the morning packet,” he said.
Elise blinked. “I took everything that was mine.”
Geo ground his teeth. The urge to yank her out of that chair and drag her home made his hands shake. He shoved them into the deep pockets of his greatcoat. A show of force wouldn’t melt her resolve. He’d pushed too far; demanded too much.
“Did you?” He let the question hang in the air. Elise nodded and raised her drink to her lips with a slightly unsteady hand. Confusion flickered in her eyes, followed by a flash of concern as he pushed away from the mantel and stepped toward her. Geo dropped to one knee beside her chair. “Because I’d say you left something rather important behind.”
The pinched look of concern left her eyes and one corner of Elise’s mouth quirked up. Geo bit his cheek to keep from grinning back at her. He knew that smile. He was forgiven, or as close to as he was ever likely to get.
“You’re right,” she said, leaning in until her lips nearly brushed his cheek and the faint scent of primrose enveloped him. “I forgot—”
Geo captured her mouth with his, cutting off whatever quip she was about to make. She sloshed the dregs of her brandy across the back of his coat and her glass fell to the floor.
“Yes, you forgot,” he said when he finally broke off the kiss. “Forgot you can’t go running off to the Continent without your husband.”
“No?” She hung back, arms wrapped about his neck.
“No.” Geo swung Elise up and sat, pulling her into his lap. “Though if you were to ask, he might agree to accompany you.”
“Lord George?”
“Yes, Lady George?”
“Would you like to escape your father, the gossips, and the disapproving ton, and run away with me to Paris for Christmas?”
“Paris is a good start,” Geo said, settling back into the chair, their collective weight causing it to creak in protest. “But I was thinking of going a bit farther, being gone a bit longer. What would you say to spring in Italy, summer at Lake Geneva, autumn in the Levant?”
Elise chuckled. “You were thinking that we should roam about the world until London finds something more scandalous to entertain them. And if they never do?”
“Don’t be daft, woman. The Prince of Wales, or one of his siblings, will eclipse us before we’ve even made it to Rome.”
###
Want some more of Isobel Carr's work?
The second son of an Earl, Gareth has always known the lovely Lady Beau is above his station. But when she is kidnapped, Gareth sees a chance to prove his worth and plans a daring rescue. Soon he and Beau are on the run. Yet Beau's abductors are not the only threat-passion pursues the pair at every turn. Long nights fuel forbidden fantasies, and with danger closing in, Gareth and Beau will finally give
in to the ultimate temptation...
Pick It Up Today!:
Amazon (paperback) | Barnes&Noble (paperback)
Amazon (Kindle) | Barnes&Noble (Nook)
**Giveaway**
Isobel will be giving away signed copies of her two books, RIPE FOR PLEASURE and RIPE FOR SCANDAL to commenter!! Make sure to leave a comment with your thoughts on the scene and fill out the raffle copter form below to be entered!Don't Forget to head over to Ramblings From This Chick and read Caroline Linden's special holiday scene (plus ener her giveaway)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
**Grand Prize Giveaway**
On behalf of myself, Dani and a whole host of generous and awesome authors, we will be having one BIG Grand Prize given away to 1 lucky winner. The grand prize consists of a mix of books, swag, and lots of other secret goodies. Believe me, you want to enter to win this prize. Just make sure to leave a comment every day on each post on both blogs and fill out that day's grand prize giveaway form on each blog. You can follow THIS link to today's form for this post or fill it out below after you comment.
That's it. Super easy!
Good Luck everyone and Happy Holidays!
On the 4th Day of Christmas My True Lord Gave To Me...with Jenn LeBlanc (+ Giveaway)
4 Horny Lords with Jenn LeBlanc
 |
Jenn LeBlanc has several constants in life that define her:
Colorado, Canon, CJ, kids and curls.
Born and raised in a household of other people's children in this beautiful state —very nearly with a camera in hand— she never left. She talked about escaping; but that never happened. She started her own family, got used to the curls, went to college, built a CJ, and started a business, all with a camera in hand.
She always had another passion. Storytelling, born from daydreams and nightmares. Her fingers were not as quick as her mind, and no amount of practice got them there. Then her second daughter was born, and her inherent traits kept Jenn pinned to the spot, her only escape the keyboard. Spending her days in parenting chat rooms, she can still type fast with just one hand.
Jenn lives and thrives off chaos and the constant flow of the creative process. She is currently working on illustrations for another novel.
~*~
My name is Jenn and I am the author and photographer behind THE RAKE AND THE RECLUSE, an ILLUSTRATED romance. Yes. Illustrated, with photographs. The most exciting thing happens TODAY...TODAY!!! And I get to share it here with ALL OF YOU which makes me so happy because Rita is one of the most wonderful and amazing bloggers out there. She has been such a great support and friend, and I can't wait to hang out with her again like we did last year at RomCon. Did she share the picture I took of her with Derek? Perhaps if you nag her she will. ;) (Rita: Never. But pretty sure the readers can find it by googleing: "crazed pervy fan goes into cardiac arrest when met with the object of her visual fascination")Background: This scene focuses on the Rake, Perry, and his friend Ender. It takes place soon before his brother, the esteemed Duke of Roxleigh, the hero from THE RAKE AND THE RECLUSE, arrives in London after nearly trampling a girl with his horses. Ender will be appearing in a new book set to release Spring 2012 titled BETWEEN A FRIEND AND FOREVER.
All I Want For Christmas Is A Lord Under The Tree
by Jenn LeBlanc
Perry’s brother should be coming soon because he had been directed to procure a wife post haste. Her Royal Highness wanted to ensure his line continued in the right hands, and for that Roxleigh—His Grace Gideon Alrick Trumbull, 10th Duke of Roxleigh that is—his dear brother, would be attending the season.
What fun. He looked forward to making the rounds with his reclusive elder. His brother was such a stickler for propriety, he wanted—no, needed—to loosen him up a bit.
He pondered the way of things. Simple timing made his brother the heir, and he the spare. But would he have it any other way? He looked to the mass of hair bobbing in his lap. No, most likely not. His honor would keep him from having much fun in life, as his brother's honor had done to him.
Perry supposed he had been rather unpaticipatory and groaned a bit then shifted. She smiled up at him, her warm mouth wrapped quite soldily around his cock. He watched her tongue play around his shaft behind her teeth. There it is, he groaned in earnest and his head fell back.
"That's the thing there Love, oh yes. Quite." he shifted further into her and took a handful of hair. "Oh no, less teeth if you please, dear." He tensed and looked back down to the excited bob of curls with a broad grin.
No, he most definitely was spared by not being born the heir. He felt a tingle start in his toes and he curled them in his boots, then pressed them into the floor as it spread up his nerves and he moved a hand to her nape to slow her movements. "There Love, ah...with your tongue just a—" he grunted and tensed then shifted his seat again leaning back a bit as his thighs bunched forcing his hips from the chair. He held her curls and her nape, thrusting just so as he spent himself.
The woman leaned back on her knees, one finger tracing her lips before tucking between them and smiling up at him. "Well My Lord, I have missed you," she said quietly.
He opened one eye on her, "Since last eve? is that so?"
"Aye My Lord, twas only last night, but you're better to me than most will be. At least I know you have no honorable intentions toward me."
He winced then reached for the placket of his trousers and arranged himself and stood, setting himself to rights. "Well my love, let us find someone who will do right by you. I've no doubt we could find a gentleman in need of a wife with your particular...tastes."
She laughed. "There's no need for that, I've already lived my love story. I'm a rich woman and I can live as I please now—that is all that matters to me. What of you my dear Trumbull, have you any prospects?"
He stood. "Dear me no! And give up my nightly tryst with the most beautiful woman in all of London?" She stood and put her breasts away as he watched, then she smacked his cheek. "Pardon, was I staring again? Such a perfect bosom should not be hidden from eyes." His hands twitched forward as if to give them one last good squeeze, but they fell short when she turned.
"Do attempt to behave properly won't you? It won't do for me to stare at your wonderful cock all night, I expect the same courtesy."
Trumbull felt his eyes widen. Thought they might just escape his head for a moment so wide they were. She turned for the door, "Please give me ten minutes dear boy. It won't suit to be seen rejoining the party too soon behind me."
"Behind you then, perhaps next time—"
She clucked her tongue and swept through the door. He followed much later, perusing the Marchioness’ library for a while before determining it has been long enough for her to be settled in the ballroom.
He walked slowly toward the doors of the ballroom only to be intercepted by his old friend Hugh Garrison, The Right Honourable Baron Endsleigh. “Ender!”
“Damn me Perry but this rout is a pain. Are you quitting? Let’s head for The Bottoms.”
“Well, I wasn’t intending to, however—”
Ender took his shoulder and turned him for the door. “Is your carriage here? Mine is...indisposed.”
Perry stopped and turned to him. “Indisposed? If you be here, then who be indisposing your carriage my friend?” he said with a cockney accent.
Ender grunted. “Agatha, the trollop.”
Perry laughed. “You realize she is only using your carriage to make you jealous.”
“Please, nothing could be further from the truth. That woman has every man she wants and is still allowed in society. Why is beyond me, but there it is. She has no need for another husband. It would weigh her down.”
“Yet you allow her your carriage?”
“She is a friend.”
“Would you allow me your carriage?”
“God no man, you would have the springs out by noon tomorrow. It cannot nearly handle your traffic.” Ender winked.
Perry gaped. “Well, then that leaves us with the Bottoms, though I’m not much sport.”
“Oh? The Marchioness has you spent already does she?”
“Damn it all Ender lower your voice.” Perry grumbled as he waved on his coachman. “And what of you and the chit you’ve been chasing? Isn’t she due out soon?”
“Amelia, yes. Soon.” His friends eye clouded and Perry shoved him at the carriage.
“Listen there’ll be none of that tonight, if you must pull me from the bosom of the most wonderful tease in London I won’t spend the night trapped in maundering.”
Ender grinned, “There’s a new girl at the Tip n’ Whistle.”
“You don’t say? Well, you’ve not a chance Ender, no doubt the ladies have already informed her of me.” He waggled his brows and grinned, realizing in the dark carriage the moment was entirely lost. The rumbled along the London streets, the wheels crossing deep troughs made by the recent snow.
“I have no doubt they’ve informed her of your exploits, and she will choose to stay far from you. On that note— no crossing swords tonight.”
“There was entirely too much wine involved that night, must you continually bring it up?”
“Yes, to be sure. I’ve no idea why the women swoon at you, waking up next to you was kin to waking up next to a tiger, all bad breath and growling.”
Perry elbowed him in the kidney. “You were three women separated from me in that bed.”
“I was and yet I was offended!” Ender shifted and pushed Perry away as he chuckled. “Damn me but I do need a night of two much wine and not enough memory.”
Perry eyed him, “as long as you keep the women between us I am game for... nearly anything.”
***
Perry shifted on the soft blanket, then frowned at the wet chill against his back. He opened one eye against the bright light of day and attempted to assess his surroundings."What the bloody hell?" He looked up through the branches of a very full evergreen, then rubbed his eyes. Monumental mistake number one: following Ender to the Bottoms. He groaned and flipped over to his knees, attempting to avoid the low branches of the tree as he made his way out into the park. Ah Grosvenor, not far from home then.
He looked back to the tree, wondering if anyone else was hidden beneath the boughs when he saw a streak of pink careening across the park, away from him. Oh dear.
He looked down to find himself relatively intact, even his cravat in attendance, though terribly askew. He would call on Ender later today, find out what tree he had crawled out from under. He wandered toward his townhouse, ever wary of prying eyes. The sun was bright but rather low, so he was hopeful it would only be talk amongst servants, and not peers.
As he entered his townhouse, his eyes scanned, looking for evidence that they had ended up here...before the park. Merry bloody Christmas. Nothing seeming out of place he vaulted the stairs and went straight to bed, with white sheets of linen this time, instead of snow.
###
Want some more of Jenn LeBlanc's work?
A woman out of time.A man stifled by propriety.
A nemesis determined to take her away.
A brother to the rescue.
How will a powerful Duke deal with a woman who doesn't know her place? How will a woman used to the 21st century survive in time where she is considered property?
This is PART ONE of a SIX PART SERIAL NOVEL. They have to be read in order to get the story. If you have already read THE RAKE AND THE RECLUSE- this is completely re edited with new scenes. (However, if you do not want to re-read, you can pick up the story at PART FIVE.)
Pick It Up Today!:
Part One in the serial is available on Amazon.com: HERE
or
Try the full first edition of the novel from: Amazon | Barnes&Noble | iBooks
or
Try the full first edition of the novel from: Amazon | Barnes&Noble | iBooks
Appearances- Jenn will be attending the RWA conference in 2012 and planning some reader fun either before or after the conference, so stay tuned on her blog, and she's also attending Authors After Dark in New Orleans (more fun stuff planned there), and also currently working on her registration for RomCon which is in Colorado.
**Giveaway**
Jenn: So today I am going to give away something very special, the complete serial novel, in six parts. You will receive it every two weeks when each part is released starting with part one today. The book is an eBook only, that's how it was meant to be read. I've included a few images for the story too. Because THAT is what I do.
Make sure to leave a comment with your thoughts on her scene and her books if you've read them and fill out the raffle copter form below to be entered!
Make sure to leave a comment with your thoughts on her scene and her books if you've read them and fill out the raffle copter form below to be entered!
Don't Forget to head over to Ramblings From This Chick and read Kieran Kramer's special holiday scene (plus ener her giveaway)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway
**Grand Prize Giveaway**
On behalf of myself, Dani and a whole host of generous and awesome authors, we will be having one BIG Grand Prize given away to 1 lucky winner. The grand prize consists of a mix of books, swag, and lots of other secret goodies. Believe me, you want to enter to win this prize. Just make sure to leave a comment every day on each post on both blogs and fill out that day's grand prize giveaway form on each blog. You can follow THIS link to today's form for this post or fill it out below after you comment.
That's it. Super easy!
Good Luck everyone and Happy Holidays!
Copyright © C-buk2016
