Archive for the ‘historical’ Category
Jun 30, 2017 Filed under: book recommendation, guest blogger, historical
I’m thrilled to have Deanna Wadsworth on the blog today to celebrate historical romance. Everyone be sure to check out the giveaway below for a chance to win a copy of one of Deanna’s books and one of mine.
I’m so excited to be celebrating 4th of July and gay romance novels with my girl Silvia Violet! One of my first experiences with romance novels were American historicals. I used to read a series buy Sunfire with all of these overdramatic teenage girls who couldn’t choose between two boys in various American historical settings. Anyone remember those?
Then I moved on to the steamy ones, you know… the bodice rippers were everybody’s doing it in a poppy field LOL
Historical have always been my favorite romance setting so when I first started writing WRECKED, I knew it had to have a classic romance novel cover. To this day the beautiful cover for WRECKED by Paul Richmond is my all-time favorite book cover. If I ever get my office remodeled….er? organized and clean, I plan to hang a large print of WRECKED in my reading nook.
Seeing as my second love in romance writing is paranormal, there is a supernatural twist in WRECKED too. Check it out:
Off the Key West coast, Rief Lawson works as a wrecker, salvaging ships and their cargo. Exiled to the outskirts of society because of his mysterious gift of sight, Rief’s only respite from his loneliness is painting an unknown blond man. When a merchant ship wrecks during a violent storm, Rief rescues a drowning victim and comes face-to-face with his destiny.
It is the man from his art!
Heir to an English barony, Mathew Weston entered the merchant trade with his greedy father and soon-to-be father-in-law. Dominated by his father and smothered by the people around him—including his sweet but tiresome fiancée—Mathew is terrified to follow his true desires. Marriage and obedience seem safer than a life of secrecy and possible prison.
After the daring rescue, a fire ignites between the two men. Powerless to resist his desire, Mathew learns what it means to be a man in Rief’s arms. With this newfound confidence, Mathew teaches Rief through gentle touch that he deserves the affection he’s long been denied. Yet their affair is doomed from the start. Two desperate men, wrecked in heart and mind, must find a way to salvage the chance at love fate has given them.
Reaching forward, Rief pointed at the canvas, his inner arm brushing Mathew’s shoulder. “This is how I see you,” he explained in a hushed voice. “Temptation, desire, and beauty all at once.”
A visceral bolt of arousal shot through him. What could he say to that?
Then Rief stepped away, placing his back to him, the lines of his shoulders suddenly rigid. “Why did you really come here?” he asked, void of all emotion. “And don’t say to bring me a book.”
Embarrassment and confusion at Rief’s change in mood made him stutter. “I-I think you know w-why I came here.”
Rief’s head tipped to the side, but he did not turn around. “Why?”
Did he expect him to say it aloud?
Taking a tremulous breath, Mathew struggled to find the words, but the emotions inside him were so new, too terrifying to give them voice. He glanced away, the erotic painting staring at him with accusation. Mocking him, because he could never be as bold as the doppelganger of color and oil.
What if Rief realized he was nothing like the man he’d painted?
Mathew was not powerful or alluring. He was weak with wanting, desperate with loneliness. Indecisive and scared. Living in fear for years. All alone, even in a crowded room.
He glanced back at Rief, and a whisper of light fought to escape the darkness. He might not be the man in the painting, but he had to try.
For both their sakes.
Latching on to hope, he boldly forged ahead, “You ask me why I am here? How could I not seek you out? Every day I wake up knowing that I am destined to be alone, yet with just a few words, you’ve shown me that life isn’t as hopeless as I once imagined. When we speak, it as if I am speaking to my own soul. How can a man turn his back on a connection such as that?”
Rief turned at his confession, coming toward him fast.
He instinctively withdrew from the dark hurt in his eyes, but Rief kept coming until Mathew’s back was against the wall. “You made it pretty clear you think I’m no better than a thief, Matt. So why pretty this up with talk of friendship and loneliness? The only thing lonely is your cock.”
“H-how dare y-you?” he sputtered, their bodies now less than a hairsbreadth apart. “You make it sound so… so dirty. I’m a gentleman. I came here to extend the hand of friendship.”
Rief looked sad and weary despite his dominant posturing. His entire being withered right before Mathew’s eyes. “Friends or lovers, Matt? State your intentions now. If you do not want both, you should leave, for I cannot survive anything less from you.”
Emboldened, Mathew met the gaze of the man who changed the very course of his life. A man he wanted so badly that he had risked discovery, betraying the vows of denial he’d placed upon himself. Releasing a shuddery breath, he let the words tumble out, allowing his heart full sway of his mouth and damning the consequences.
“I want to be your friend and your lover,” Mathew declared, staring deep into those pained eyes. “It has been my greatest wish since the beginning. I have long been afraid to go after what I want, but it is not that way when I am with you. I want you. I want this.” Before he lost what courage he’d gained, he placed a trembling hand on Rief’s chest, his voice wavering as he asked, “How can you not know that by now?”
With a muffled cry, Rief melted against him.
The instant he felt the heat of Rief’s body, Mathew kissed him, unable to hinder their desires a moment longer. Blood pounding, throbbing all the way to his groin, he poured all the passion and intensity that years of denial had left in their wake into the harmony of their mouths.
Rief groaned against his lips, pressing closer and wrapping arms around his waist. In a burst of fervor, their tongues battled, bodies rolled. A physical reflection of a bond of body and heart. Outside, the rain grew in tempo, pounding faster than Mathew’s pulse. Louder still were their ragged breaths filling the air along with the howl of the gale. The world fell away and it was only Rief in his arms, feeling better than anything he’d ever dreamed.
Fingers pulled at the waist of his trousers. “I need you,” Rief panted.
Overcome, his head lolled back. “Yes, please!”
So steamy! I hope you like lots of sex and angst in your historicals, because WRECKED is full of both!
Thank you, Silvia for hosting me and thanks to the readers for stopping! Don’t forget to enter the rafflecopter for a chance to win Silvia’s book and my 1976 semi-historical—LOL depending on who you ask— Easy Ryder!
Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. She has served multiple board positions at her local RWA chapter and is the current President 2017 for Rainbow Romance Writers of America. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.
Oct 30, 2016 Filed under: free story, historical, m/m Tags: alexander hamilton, bisexual romance, gay historical, hamilton musical, historical romance, john laurens, lams
Perfect Alignment (Thorne and Dash 3) will be out on November 15. My next project is a historical m/m set during the American Revolution. My love for the musical, Hamilton, inspired me to read more about Alexander Hamilton and Revolutionary America. To put myself in the mood for writing a historical I’ve written a short, sexy fic to share with you. For those of you who don’t know, there is historical evidence to suggest that Alexander Hamilton was bisexual and he had a relationship with fellow Continental Army officer, John Laurens. Read more about it here.
*Warning: This story contains one of America’s founding fathers getting some seriously NSFW attention.*
John sat up and stared across the room. Alexander was seated at the desk, writing furiously by the light of a single candle. John had tried to pretend he was asleep. But, every night since he’d arrived at Washington’s headquarters, sharing a bed with Alexander had rendered him unable to sleep. He was preoccupied with fantasies of what would happen if he reached out and touched the man who’d charmed him from the moment they’d met.
He watched Alex, whose red-hair glistened in the soft light. He could almost feel the man’s intensity as he scribbled quickly, pausing only when he had to dip his quill in the inkwell. John’s cock grew hard as he studied Alex. John had always been attracted to men, but he’d never been this obsessed before, this desperate. He’d seen Alex look at him, like he was as filled with lust as John was. Unless, John was wrong and only seeing what he wanted to see. If he spoke of what he wanted, and he’d misjudged, it could prove a deadly mistake. But he couldn’t go on like this; he was slowly going insane.
He rose from the bed and approached Alexander. “Were you unable to sleep?”
Alex looked up at him, his beautiful azure eyes bright. “No. I…” His lips remained parted as his gaze dropped to John’s mouth. John’s heart pounded. He wants this too. He must. No. John shouldn’t risk it.
Finally, Alex licked his lips and said, “I’ve got so much work. If I allow myself to sleep, I’ll never finish.”
John nodded. “I haven’t slept well since I arrived.”
Alex scribbled a few more words, signed his name, and laid his quill down. “Is it hard to get used to being away from home?”
John shook his head. “That’s not it.”
“No?” Was that a hopeful look on Alex’s face?
“I’m all… tense.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but…
“John?” Alex pushed back his chair and stood. He was so close. John wanted to reach out and touch him, but he couldn’t. He should leave, say he had to go take a piss, or something, anything to keep him from making a fool of himself or worse. He didn’t move.
“I like you,” Alex said.
“I do. And I think you like me too. I think that’s why you can’t sleep.”
John nodded. “You’re right.”
Alex reached up and ran the pad of his thumb over John’s lips. “So soft.”
Alex studied him intently. “Do we understand each other?”
“Y-yes.” John thought so anyway. All he really cared about was that Alex was there, touching him. He let his gaze drop. Oh, fuck. Alex’s prick was making his nightshirt stand out. John had been partially erect, but he hardened fully at the sight.
“Kiss me,” Alex said.
John sucked in his breath. Most encounters he’d had with men had been rough, fast. His partners had gone right to fucking or shoving him to his knees to take their pricks in his mouth. Kissing wasn’t part of it. He’d only ever kissed girls, and then he’d had to fake his interest.
When he hesitated, Alex slid a hand into his hair and took charge, sliding his lips over John’s gently, barely touching.
John moaned and gripped Alex’s hips, pulling him closer, needing to touch him.
Alex kissed him harder, and John opened his mouth, letting Alex invade with his tongue. Alex cupped his face, holding him in place, kissing, licking, and nibbling. He seemed willing to do this forever, but John needed more. He gathered the edge of Alex’s nightshirt and started to lift.
Alex pulled away just enough to end the kiss. “Have you done this before?”
John froze, his hands on Alex’s waist, Alex’s skin warming him. “Yes, but not… yes.” He’d almost revealed too much. Something about Alexander made him want to bare his soul, to say he’d never been with a man he liked this much, with someone he might… No, it was much too early for that.
“Good, because I want to fuck you.”
John groaned. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. So you’ve done this too?”
“Mmmhmm,” Alex said as he drew his tongue along John’s neck. John lost himself in pleasure as Alex nudged his nightshirt aside and teased the sensitive skin along his collarbone.
He had the sense it wasn’t the first time Alex had said his name. “Yes?” Alex pulled him close, and his very hard prick pressed against John’s, making him bite his lip to hold in a whimper.
“Come to bed.”
Alex grabbed the candle from the table and John followed him, nearly tripping over his own feet.
Alex sat the candle on the nightstand, looked back, and smiled. “I wanted to be able see you.”
Alex smiled. “Yes. Me too.”
John let Alex pull him onto the bed. He settled between Alex’s legs, heart hammering, cock so hard he was afraid he would disgrace himself by coming before they even began.
Alex opened his legs and John stretched out on top of him, grinding against him, unable to hide his desperation.
Alex tugged on John’s nightshirt. “Off.”
John sat back, pulled off the garment and tossed it to the floor. When he looked down, Alex was watching him, lust darkening his eyes. He reached out and trailed his fingers down John’s chest.
“You too,” John forced the words out around a ragged breath.
“Your shirt. I want… I want to see you too.”
John scrambled back as Alex tried to sit up. Finally Alex was able to get his shirt over his head, and John took in his lean body, pale skin, and his cock, which stood rampant. He wanted to feel it inside him. He wanted all the energy that poured off of Alex focused on him.
“Do you have—”
“Oil. Yes. In my bag,” Alex said.
Thank God. “I’ll get it.”
John couldn’t take his eyes off Alex. His foot caught on the edge of the bed, and he tumbled to the floor. The both laughed with their hands covering their mouths. If someone heard and came to investigate… He glanced toward the door.
“Did you bolt it?”
“I… I’m not sure.” How was Alex’s absent-mindedness so sexy? John was desperate to kiss him again. He wasn’t sure if he could cross the room without tasting Alex first, but he managed somehow. They couldn’t take that kind of risk.
He slid the bolt into place and then dug through Alex’s bag. He found several large tomes on economics and trade but no oil. “How many books do you have in here?”
“A lot.” Alex waved a dismissive hand. “Hurry.”
John’s hand finally closed around the bottle of oil but he almost dropped it when he turned and saw Alex, prick in his hand, stroking it. “Alexxxxx.”
“You’re so beautiful, John. I feel like you’ve consumed me. I can’t look away.” His hand moved faster, and John sucked in his breath. He’d never met anyone so open about how they felt.
John managed to get back on the bed without falling again, but it was a near thing. Alex took the oil from his hand, fumbled the cork loose, spilled some, but finally got enough into his hand to coat his prick.
John licked his lips as he watched. God, he needed this.
“How… how do you want me?”
“Ride me,” Alex demanded.
John straddled him, but before he could figure out the logistics of getting Alex’s cock to his hole, Alex pulled him down.
“Can’t get enough of this,” he murmured before kissing John again. John was lost to the sensations Alex created. They rutted together, cocks sliding along each other.
The taste of Alex, warm, spicy, perfect was driving John wild. He needed to stop, or they might both spend before he ever got Alex inside him. He tried to sit back but Alex held him tight. “Please. Need you. Need your cock.”
Alex moaned. “I want everything: your mouth, your cock, to feel you all over me.”
John sat up and reached behind him taking hold of Alex’s prick. It was so slick with oil that his hand slipped. They both laughed.
“So eager,” Alex said.
“And you’re not?”
“Oh, I am. I want to spread you wide, to know what you look like when you’re stuffed full, to hear the sounds you make.”
“God, Alex, I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”
“I’m not going to last anyway,” Alex confessed. “Not this first time. It’s all I’ve thought about for days.”
John groaned as he got the angle right and began to sink down. The stretch was almost too much, but seeing Alex, eyes wide, mouth open, was too incredible, so he didn’t stop. As he sank all the way down, an embarrassing whine escaped him, and heat rushed to his face.
Alex licked his lips. He stuttered twice before words came out, and John wondered if he’d ever been rendered speechless before. He hoped not.
“Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”
John shook his head. The rest of Washington’s aides were in the rooms surrounding them. “The others will hear us.”
“They’re sleeping,” Alex seemed so confident, and John didn’t have the will power to argue.
When Alex was all the way inside him, John paused. Alex gripped his hips. “Don’t make me wait,” he begged.
John fought for air. He didn’t want to deny Alex anything, but he was sure if Alex’s cock dragged over his prostate, he’d come right then.
He tried to draw in a breath. “Need. Air.”
Alex grinned. “No, you need this.” Alex wrapped a hand around John’s cock and stroked.
John started to cry out and bit his lip. He had to stay quiet. If they were caught, they’d be—
Alex stroked him again, and he couldn’t stay still any longer. He rose and then lowered himself, faster and faster, until he was riding Alex so hard the bed was shaking, ropes creaking. He had a second to wonder if the whole bed was going to fall apart. And then he was right there, ready to spend in Alex’s hand.
“I want to watch,” Alex said, obviously knowing how close he was. That was all it took. His seed shot over Alex’s hand and across his chest, the sight forcing another cry from him.
Alex’s eyes went wide, and John leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss, preventing him from shouting and giving them away as Alex pumped out his seed into John’s ass.
When they were both thoroughly spent, John let Alex’s cock slip from his body and rolled to his side.
Alex drew him into his arms, and they settled against each other. “Tell me we can do this again.”
John wanted to say yes. He knew he’d never get enough of this man, but… “It’s dangerous.”
Alex tightened his hold. “I don’t care.”
Was it really that easy for Alex? John had a feeling he always went after what he wanted and always got it. “I… Okay, I don’t either.”
“Good.” Alex kissed the top of his head, and they drifted to sleep in each other’s arms.
May 4, 2015 Filed under: book recommendation, contemporary, cops, D/s, erotica, historical, m/m, men in uniform
This is the first in a series of list posts. These lists will include books I love and, where appropriate, titles from my own catalog. I enjoy many romance subgenres depending on my mood. This week’s list consists of books that are ultra hot, ones where the erotic content is integral to the character development.
A slight digression: You may have noticed I like writing this type of book as well as reading it. At GRL 2015, I will have the privilege of being on a panel with two authors who know all about writing hot, LA Witt and SE Jakes and we’ll be talking about this very topic. So join us if you’ll be attending.
Hell or High Water series by SE Jakes
Tristan and Jared (Market Garden series) by LA Witt and Aleksandr Voinov (sold in a bundle or as separate stories)
The Magpie Lord series by KJ Charles
Force of Law by Jez Morrow
Whitetail Rock by Anne Tenino (a free download at ARe)
Shock and Awe by Abi Roux
More by Sloan Parker
A Simple Romance by JH Knight
My own Fitting In series
I’d love to hear some of your suggestions for more hot books!
Oct 14, 2011 Filed under: book recommendation, excerpts, historical, m/m, paranormal, vampire
Hi Silvia, thanks so much for inviting me to share a recipe and a bit of story. My partner is the chef in our house, but I love sampling his recipes. He’s adventurous and not afraid to try different ingredients together, whereas I pretty much stick to a written recipe. Even though he’s the cook, I still have a few recipes I haul out and throw together for us, and since it’s October and, like in my Old West vampire/zombie mash up novel “Bounty,” it’s starting to get cooler, this seems like the perfect time for comfort food. To hell with the calories, it’s winter, we need to insulate! (I completely agree! – Silvia)
I’ve selected a recipe for Beef Chow Mein. My mother made this for us kids a lot growing up, it was a filling meal and made a pound of ground beef go a long way. It’s one of my go-to dishes for cold days or those times you just want to sit and digest afterwards. I actually made this recipe for my partner’s wacky cooking show, “Dish and a Drink,” and you can see that episode on here.
This dish is really good fresh out of the oven, but even better warmed up the next day. And, since it’s a Chinese Chow Mein dish, I’ll include an excerpt from my book with Ling Chen, a Chinese frontier girl who has a small but pivotal role in “Bounty,” book one of my Venom Valley Series. Thanks for stopping by, and happy eating!
Beef Chow Mein Dish
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup diced celery
1 ½ pounds ground beef
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 cup cooked rice
1/8 cup soy sauce
1 small can mushrooms
1 can bean sprouts
1 can sliced water chestnuts
1 can chow mein noodles
1. Brown beef, onion, celery in a skillet. Drain.
2. Add remaining ingredients except chow mein noodles. Mix well.
3. Fold into a 9 x 13 dish.
4. Bake at 350 for 1 hour.
5. Top with chow mein noodles.
6. Bake 5 minutes longer.
7. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.
Bounty by Hank Edwards
Josh Stanton discovers he can raise the dead after his adoptive mother returns and tries to kill him. With a bounty on his head for her murder, Josh flees into the arid plains of Venom Valley, pursued by his best friend and deputy, Dex, and the two finally surrender to the love that’s grown between them. Back in town, a powerful vampire stalks the girls working at the saloon, and Glory, a half white, half Indian saloon girl, depends on her Native American protective spirit to keep her safe as she fights to save her best friend, Edith.
A sound outside the window brought him back, and Josh jerked his head up. The pale shape of a face hovered behind the glass, almond eyes wide and mouth round with shock. It was Ling Chen, the young Oriental girl Agnes had been instructing in English.
Ling’s eyes shifted between Agnes’s body and Josh’s face.
Josh looked at Agnes, the rifle in his hand, and then back to Ling. In a moment of horrifying clarity, he understood how it must look.
“Ling,” Josh croaked and rose to his feet, looking at the window again.
Ling was gone. Josh stumbled to the door, stepping out into the wind-driven night and squinting against the onslaught of sand. All he saw was the rear end of a horse galloping down the road, Ling hunched low in the saddle, snapping the reins hard as she rushed toward town and the sheriff’s office.
“No, no, no, no,” Josh moaned. He spun in place a moment, looking between the fleeing girl and the inside of the house. What could he do? Ling had seen him by the body, possibly seen him shoot Agnes. Even if he could bury Agnes’s body, there would be questions and accusations, especially because of who he was. He would be thrown in jail, and at some point someone would miss Wayland Overbrooke and ride out to his farm and find him dead in the barn.
“Fuck!” he shouted into the furious wind of the night.
He hurried into the house and slammed the door, leaning back against it as he swept his gaze around the small rooms. He had been raised in this house, had spent hours by the fire with Agnes. How could he leave her like this, with no explanation, no respects paid?
But who would believe him?
Dex, maybe. But Dex was just a deputy. The rest of the town would believe what they wanted, even from a Chinese girl. They had made up their minds about him years ago. He had to run.
Keeping his gaze averted from Agnes’s body, Josh moved through the house. He grabbed clothes, some dried meat, and bread. Crouching before the bookcase, he selected a few favorite books and stuffed them in his pack. Agnes had not only encouraged his reading, she had insisted that he devote time each day to it. He would not let her down now.
Picking up his hat, Josh turned to throw a final look at the body consumed by shadows.
“Rest in peace, Agnes,” he whispered, his voice breaking on her name. “I will always be grateful for you.”
He left the house and pulled the door closed behind him. Clementine stamped and snorted as he mounted her. Josh patted the side of her neck and leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“It’s just us now, Clem.”
He sat up and clicked his tongue as he pulled the reins. Clementine turned, and he urged her into a gallop, heading for the Overbrooke farm. He needed to try and find a connection between the farmer and Agnes. Then he planned to travel further outside of town to the house where he had once lived with his mother. It stood, vacant and decaying, on the edge of the brutal stretch of desert land known by those in Belkin’s Pass as Venom Valley. He would be safe there for a day, maybe two. Perhaps something of his mother’s still lay waiting inside the house that might help explain what happened when he got close to the dead.
Feb 27, 2011 Filed under: free story, historical, paranormal, werewolf
The first chapter of Control, the first book in my Wolf Caller trilogy is posted at D. Renee Bagby Presents First Chapters. Go check it out!
As their world draws closer to war, the future of Albion is in the hands of a werewolf pack who must protect the country’s most carefully guarded secret, a new magically-generated fuel source. Rumors about the mysterious Lord Derek Valmont abound, but no one in Albion’s Upper Circles knows the whole truth. Valmont is a werewolf. He’s also an operative for the Office of Clandestine Affairs.
Captivated — literally — by the hauntingly beautiful wolf caller-witch Serena, he’s furious that he can’t break the hold she has over him in wolf form. When she flees their encounter he drinks in her lingering scent, determined to find her again — on his own terms. But before he convinces her to use her powers to aid his pack and his government, he’ll take her to his bed and prove he’s the one in control.
Serena may not be able to control the man as she does the wolf, but she’s got an agenda of her own — and her sights set on both the Alpha, and his second in command.
May 22, 2009 Filed under: book release, excerpts, historical
My Paris-set, Regency historical, To Capture A Spy is now available in print.
To Capture A Spy by Silvia Violet
When danger lurks, is courage alone enough to save a country—and a heart?
It’s not enough Meg Wentworth has suffered kidnapping, imprisonment and torture. She kept her wits about her and escaped with her life, only to be captured by a handsome British officer—and promptly accused of spying for the French. Convincing him otherwise turns out to be easier than dealing with her next discovery: that Lucien just might be the man to help her put her life back together. If only he will let go of his rigid control long enough to let her show him they belong together.
Recovering from a near-fatal injury, British intelligence officer Lucien Archer hoped to leave the shadowy, violent world that left him scarred, body and soul. But a mysterious letter calls him back to duty, and nothing prepares him for Meg. The beautiful spy’s fiery spirit threatens to break through the shell Lucien has built around his heart.
But Meg’s kidnapper wasn’t looking for simple ransom. He’s an old enemy of Lucien’s, Le Lézard, who’s resurfaced with a single goal. To raise magical forces dark and powerful enough to destroy England. To do it, blood must flow. The blood of Lucien and Meg.
And the fire of passion that burns between them is the perfect lure to get them both where he wants them. On an altar of sacrifice.
Meg stood and approached Lucien, trying to move exactly as Fabienne had taught her. “I am so pleased to meet you, Mr. Archer,” she purred, offering her hand to be kissed.
He took her hand and brushed his lips across it, lingering longer than he should. For a few seconds, they stood, looking into each other’s eyes. Then Meg stepped back, breaking the spell, pleased to see she had such an effect on him.
Smiling, he looked at Fabienne. “Are you certain this is the same woman I brought here yesterday?”
“Yes, but the change is amazing, non? She even convinced Therese that she is your current mistress.”
Meg reverted to her normal self. “Fabienne is a wonderful tutor. She is teaching me all the things I ignored in London and making me into the woman I never wanted to be.”
“You play the part of this woman well.”
“Come along.” Fabienne linked arms with Meg, and bid Lucien follow. They walked to the center of the room, where Fabienne positioned them to begin a waltz.
Lucien looked uncomfortable. “I’m no dancing instructor, so you will have to tell me what you expect.”
“Meg explained to me that dancing was never important to her, so she never perfected the skill.”
“I know all the steps, but I never manage to perform them with the grace of other women. I don’t understand it. I can direct a horse with only the pressure of my knees, and I can tiptoe through the brush tracking a rabbit, but when it comes to the subtleties of dancing, I’m lost.”
Fabienne smiled. “Perhaps you’ve never had the correct partner. Lucien is a master of the waltz.” Meg thought she heard a faint sound from Lucien, somewhat like a groan.
Fabienne continued, looking at her. “Don’t think too much about the steps. Let Lucien lead, and your body will follow. Let your mind dwell on that feminine power we discussed. Use your body to attract Lucien as he spins you in the dance.” This time, Meg was certain she heard Lucien groan.
Fabienne crossed to the piano and sat down to play a waltz. On her first try, Meg failed to relax and follow Lucien’s lead. Used to being in charge herself, she wanted to set her own pace and quickly ended up trodding on Lucien’s boots and stopping to apologize.
Lucien looked thoroughly exasperated. “You’re holding on to me like you’re drowning, and I’m the only thing keeping you afloat. Relax. You don’t have to control this. Let go and let your body turn. Follow the music.”
“Step closer to him Meg,” Fabienne added. “You’re an adventurous young woman, not a matron at a country dance. The closer you press together, the easier it is to follow his lead.”
She was more physically aware of Lucien than she wanted to be, but she took a step closer and concentrated on relaxing her posture. She could feel the heat coming from his body. Her nipples hardened as her breasts brushed against his chest.
Fabienne began to play once more. Meg focused on Lucien, trying to forget what her feet were doing and let him sweep her along. He was so strong he could have held her aloft through the whole dance. As she fell into the rhythm of it, she felt as if she were twirling above the ground. For the first time, she was really enjoying a dance, but her close proximity to Lucien made it feel far more erotic than was proper. She began to understand her aunt’s objection to the waltz.
The tempo sped up, and she panicked. Once again she tried to control her steps and lost the proper rhythm. Lucien stopped. “This is not a fight. It’s a dance. You don’t have to control it. Quit trying so damned hard.”
“How can I get it right if I don’t try?” She felt Lucien’s tension where her hand rested on his shoulder. It was like holding on to a rock.
“For the last time, relax!”
How could she relax with him filling her senses so thoroughly? Every time she breathed, she smelled his potent, musky scent.
Fabienne rose from the piano. “Lucien dear, as it turns out, you’re quite an excellent instructor. A few more tries and Meg should be ready to dazzle and amaze her partners tonight. I’m afraid I am going to have to leave you now. I have an engagement tonight myself, and I must get ready.” With that she breezed through the door.
Lucien muttered something vile about her under his breath. “Do you think you can get it right this time?”
“I don’t know why you have to be so nasty about this,” Meg replied. “You’re the one who gave me a single day to completely remake myself.”
“One day is all we can afford. I don’t have time to give dancing lessons when our lives are in danger.”
“I can think of numerous things I’d rather be doing. The very fact that I’m not an accomplished dancer should tell you how much I dislike the activity.”
“You’re the one who wanted to work with me. I can leave now and do this on my own.”
“And you’ll lose the one person who could identify Le Lézard for you.”
“I know the value of that possibility, or you would not be here. We’re going to try this blasted dance again. This time, I am not going to give you any choice but to move as I do.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her against his body. Holding her aloft, he began to waltz. He held her as if she weighed nothing, the muscles of his arm rigid against her back. She had no fear he would drop her, but her heartbeat accelerated as he spun. She didn’t think about the movements or about learning to dance. All she thought about was him.
When he stopped, she slid down the length of his body and felt the hard ridge of his shaft. Apparently, he’d also been affected by their closeness.
“Do you understand how to let me lead now?” he asked with a calmness that seemed forced.
“Yes,” she answered breathlessly.
Neither of them moved. She met his gaze and tried to discern his thoughts. Passion was the only thing that showed in his eyes. He released her hand and gripped the back of her neck, pulling her up to meet his lips. The warmth of his mouth felt delicious.
She lifted her arms and combed his hair with her fingers, luxuriating in its thickness and moving deeper to massage his scalp.
This kiss wasn’t fierce like the ones he’d given her at the inn. Instead, he explored her mouth slowly, pressing gently to encourage her to open to him. Warmth gathered slowly at the core of her body, but when he ran his tongue across the roof of her mouth, she felt a stab of desire so strong she tugged on his hair and made him gasp.
He pressed harder against her lips, and she answered the pressure. She sucked on his tongue pulling it into her mouth, trying to get as close to him as she could. Thinking she’d like to stay locked with him forever.
Lucien fought with himself. He knew he should stop, but he wanted Meg as desperately as she apparently wanted him. When her greedy mouth released him, he couldn’t resist the smooth column of her neck.
Feb 12, 2008 Filed under: historical Tags: erotic romance, historical fiction, historical romance, Regency, Regency romance, romance
A Persistent Attraction is now available so hop on over to Samhain and get your copy. Buy it here!
Feb 11, 2008 Filed under: excerpts, historical Tags: erotic romance, historical fiction, historical romance, Regency, Regency romance, romance
One Day Until the Release of A Persistent Attraction
Here’s a second excerpt to get you ready for the big day….
Rhys ran after Amanda. He wasn’t letting her go until he knew why she’d come. As much as his clouded mind wanted to believe she’d finally succumbed to his sensual lure, he knew better.
He reached her as she started down the steps to the street. He caught her waist and pulled her against him.
Once she caught her breath, she began to struggle. “Let me go.”
“You’re not leaving until you tell me why you came.” He fought to ignore the delicious sensations coursing through his body as she writhed against him, rubbing her tight, barely covered derrière against his thighs.
“You are in no condition to help me,” she snarled.
“Stop this before we draw unwanted attention. I’m not letting you go until you agree to talk to me.”
He watched as she glanced from side to side, likely looking to see if they had attracted onlookers. Eventually, her struggles ceased. “Fine. If you promise not to touch me again, I’ll come inside and talk to you.”
“You ask much considering how you are dressed, but nevertheless, I won’t touch you even if you beg me too.”
“You needn’t worry about that.”
“Ever so confident, are we?” he asked, before turning to go back into his house.
She followed him into his study and eyed him closely as he sank into a leather chair.
“Can you possibly be sober enough to comprehend what I’m saying?”
He cursed his stupidity. If only he’d known she was coming, he never would have drunk so much. What had made him want to lose himself in the bottle anyway? The answer nagged at his consciousness, but he couldn’t quite catch it. His mind was filled with base urges that made him want to use Amanda’s body in a way no man should.
Why did she look so angry? Oh, right, she’d asked him a question. What was it? Sober. Was he sober? No, definitely not. Maybe he could fake it. He sat up straighter. “Get on with your story. I’m tired of waiting.”
She looked ready to murder him, but the rapid rise and fall of her chest had him mesmerized.
“I would ask Aunt Claire for help, but as you probably know, she’s been in poor health recently. I refuse to endanger Elise. Mark and Cassandra have enough to think about, and they are too far away. You were the only other person I could think of.”
She said the last sentence as if the very idea of speaking to him disgusted her.
“I’m sorry you are faced with such an odious option. I’m still waiting to hear what this problem is.” He stood and leaned over his desk to grab the whiskey decanter. “Would you like some?”
“No thanks. I prefer not to dull my senses when I’m near you.”
“No, you mustn’t give an evil rake a chance at seduction.”
Her pink cheeks brought him satisfaction.
“I received this note the afternoon before the Leightons’ ball.” She extracted a piece of paper from the waist of her breeches and handed it to him.
It was warm from her body. The feel of her heat made his cock harden instantly. He unfolded the paper and forced his tired eyes to focus on the words.
When he finished reading he was ready to use his bare hands to strangle the man who’d written it. The cold terror that ran down his spine sobered him. “Why didn’t you come to me the day you received this?”
“I thought it was a joke. I figured some man I’d jilted sent it to frighten me.”
“Damn it, Amanda. You were almost killed.”
“I’m fine. But I received a second letter today. That’s why I came. He wants me to meet the same demand in three days.”
“And you want me to help you find him before then?”
“Yes.” She kept her jaw tight as though her response pained her.
An evil idea came to him. He had every intention of finding this bastard and making him pay dearly for harming Amanda, but her situation had given him a wonderful opportunity to toy with her. For just a second, reason broke through his alcohol-laden haze. He knew better, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“I deserve some payment for my assistance, don’t you think?”
“What?” Amanda’s eyes widened.
“Every day that I’m helping you, I will be given one chance to seduce you.”
She shook her head back and forth vigorously. Her fists clenched at her sides. He watched her attempt to get her anger under control. For a few moments, he thought she would send the vase on the table next to her toward his head, but she reined herself in.
“You told me that if I ever needed help, I should come to you. I should have known better than to trust you. Mark may think you have a heart under your detached façade, but he’s wrong.” She stood and grabbed her cloak from the back of her chair. “I’ll handle the problem myself.”
He cursed himself and considered following her once again, but decided against it. Instead he rang for Meadows. When the valet appeared, he said, “I want Miss Halverston followed and guarded. She should be in the sight of one of my men any time she leaves her aunt’s residence.”
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
“No, that is all.” He sat at his desk and proceeded to drain the rest of the whiskey. His last thought before he passed out over the hard wooden surface was that he could never drink enough to forget the feelings Amanda stirred in him. Feelings a man like him should never have.
Feb 10, 2008 Filed under: historical, writing Tags: erotic romance, historical fiction, historical romance, Regency, Regency romance, romance
Two Days Until the Release of A Persistent Attraction
Here are some of the resources I use frequently for Regency era research:
What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew by Daniel Pool
Our Tempestuous Day: A History of Regency England by Carolly Erickson.
The Prince of Pleasure and His Regency by J.B. Priestly
Life in the English Country House by Mark Girouard
English Landed Society in the 19th Century by F.M.L. Thompson
The Regency Collection
Republic of Pemberly
Online Etymology Dictionary
Feb 8, 2008 Filed under: historical Tags: erotic romance, historical fiction, historical romance, Regency, Regency romance, romance
Four Days Left Until the Release of A Persistent Attraction
Rhys and Amanda first met when Cassandra and Mark were investigating the nefarious activities of Cassandra’s deceased husband in Book 1: A Carnal Agreement. Rhys was shocked by his reaction to such a young innocent woman, and when he learns that she is as strong and self-reliant as her older sister, he fears his heart has been stolen. Here’s their first encounter…..
Excerpted from A Carnal Agreement
Mark looked around when Cassandra said “Mr. Stanton” as if registering Stanton’s presence for the first time. Rhys stood from his chair and bowed toward Amanda. “We have not been properly introduced, but I can only assume you are Cassandra’s sister. You are a perfect replica of her except for your most exotic eyes.”
He walked behind Amanda and reached his arms around her as if to undo the clasp of her cloak. “May I?”
Amanda nodded and he took the cloak from her shoulders. Rather than putting it down, he held it over his arm, letting his fingers run absently over the fabric. Cassandra should have scolded him for flirting with her sister in such a ludicrous manner, but she found it rather amusing, so she simply introduced them.
“Rhys, as you guessed, this is my sister, Miss Amanda Halverston. Amanda, this is Mr. Rhys Stanton. He is a friend of Mark’s.”
Amanda gave Stanton a withering look. “I would prefer if you did not maul my cloak. It was given to me by my aunt, and I am rather attached to it.”
Stanton looked down at his hands as if he had not realized what he was doing. “Of course. I meant no harm. It is a beautiful garment, almost as beautiful as you.”
Mark scowled at him. “What’s wrong with you, Stanton? This is no time for your ridiculous games.”
Stanton shook his head. “Do forgive me. I was quite overcome by the young lady.”
Mark gave him a withering look. “Take a seat.”