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H. Lewis-Foster and “Northern Relations”

Northern Relations:: A letter from Edward, Lord Hadnall, to his favourite aunt, Camelia.

Dearest Aunt Camelia,

I have been here in the north for almost a week now, and much to my surprise, I’ve had a highly agreeable time. You know I rarely venture outside of London, but I must admit the Yorkshire countryside is quite beautiful. Fawleigh is a most impressive house, too, while Arthur and his mother are the perfect hosts.

I go walking across the estate each day with Arthur. I have even met some of his tenants, whom Arthur treats almost like friends. We spend the evenings playing bridge with his relations and neighbours. As you are aware, my usual pastimes—and inclinations—are rather less conventional, but I haven’t had so much fun in a very long time. In fact, I have not missed my city acquaintances one bit. Perhaps it is the bracing northern air or Arthur’s refreshing company, but I find myself in no hurry to return to the bustle of London.

Do not fear, Aunt, I will not neglect my responsibilities—I have not forgotten my promise to find myself a wife. But I am not sure where I will find a lady with sufficient attractions to lure me away from Arthur and his home. I have never met a man quite like him. He is handsome and strong, but he is also the most kind and generous man I have ever known. Indeed, I look at Arthur sometimes and imagine that, in another time and place, I might marry someone like him and be truly happy. It is a ridiculous notion, I know, but I have these outlandish thoughts sometimes.

I must go now to change for the Jarrows’ hunt. I am not a great lover of hunting, but it would be impolite to refuse. I only hope I can reach the day’s end without falling from my horse!

Your ever-loving nephew

Edward

About Northern Relations

Edward, Lord Hadnall, leads a hedonistic life in Regency London, along with his friend and occasional lover, Charlie Brabinger. The only blot on Edward’s carefree horizon is the insistence of his female relations that he settle down and get married. He intends to ignore their pestering for as long as he can, and continue his decadent lifestyle of dances and debauchery. But then Edward meets Charlie’s cousin, Arthur Hathwaite, a kind and honourable country gentleman.

Edward accepts Arthur’s invitation to visit his Yorkshire home and is surprised to find life on the rural estate extremely agreeable. He enjoys Arthur’s company immensely and they become firm friends. But when Edward makes an unexpected discovery, he is left in a moral dilemma. Will Edward follow his usual indulgent urges or do the right thing for once in his life? Or might he be lucky enough to do both?

Available

Amber Quill • Amazon

Excerpt

Charlie grinned mischievously, as footsteps approached from the hall. “Now do be nice to Cousin Arthur. He’s not a bad sort, but he is so terribly northern. His hands are like shovels, and I hear he runs his own estate. Can you imagine it?”

Edward honestly couldn’t imagine running Ilsden, his family’s country home. He left the day-to-day business to an agent, who seemed to know what he was doing. Frankly, he could have been

embezzling half the family’s income, and Edward wouldn’t have had a clue, but the thought of leaving London for the torpor of Wiltshire was too appalling to contemplate.

Emsley was first to enter the room with his usual self-assured gait.

“Mr. Hathwaite, sir.”

When he appeared, Arthur was not the lumbering oaf Edward had envisaged. He was tall and handsome, with weather-warmed skin and the same thick black hair as Charlie.

“Arthur, how delightful to see you.” Charlie’s smile could have fooled almost anyone. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“It was a last minute arrangement. I hope you don’t mind me calling by unannounced.”

There was a faint northern lilt to Arthur’s gravely voice, and his clothes weren’t the latest city fashion, but Edward couldn’t help noticing how superbly his tailcoat clung to his muscular frame.

Charlie remained in his seat as he replied, “I don’t believe you’ve met my friend, Lord Hadnall.”

“Pleased to meet you, Lord Hadnall.”

Arthur stepped forward and offered his hand. It was large and firm as it grasped Edward’s fingers, but it was hardly shovel-like, and his soft skin certainly wasn’t that of a farmer.

“Call me Edward, please.”

Edward looked up at Arthur’s face. His eyes were the brown of freshly poured coffee and his smile was sincere if a little shy

“What brings you to London?”

“I had some business to take care of.” Arthur took a seat on a chair across the room. “Would you believe I’m to be married in September?”

“Are you really?” Charlie was suddenly interested. “And who’s the lucky lady?”

“Her name is Henrietta Burleigh. I don’t suppose you know her?”

“As it happens, I do. She’s the daughter of Admiral Burleigh, isn’t she?

“That’s right. She seems a lovely girl, from the few times we’ve met.”

“And extremely wealthy, too.”

“They’re not badly off.” Arthur blushed at Charlie’s intimation. “But I thought it was time I settled down. I’ll be thirty next month, same as you, Cousin Charles.”

Charlie winced at the mention of his age. “Well I have no intention of settling down. The Brabinger name will die out when I do.”

“I see.” Arthur lowered his eyes uncomfortably. “It’s every man’s choice to do as he pleases, but I always thought it was my duty to marry. I’m a bit old-fashioned, I suppose.”

“Not at all.” For some reason, Edward felt obliged to come to Arthur’s defence. “It is a noble sentiment, and if the lady in question is good-natured and pretty, then all the better.”

Arthur turned to Edward. “Are you married yourself?”

Edward chuckled. “Not yet, but I may be rather sooner than I’d hoped.”

About the Author

H. Lewis-Foster has worked with books, in one form or another, since leaving university. As a keen reader of gay fiction, she decided to try writing herself, and is now the proud author of several short stories and a debut novel Burning Ashes.

H. has lived in various parts of the UK and has recently moved to the north of England, where she’s enjoying city life, especially the theatres and cinemas. She tries not to watch too much television, but is a big fan of Downton Abbey, and while she’s writing, she loves listening to Test Match Special (where they spend far more time talking about cakes than cricket!)

You can find out more about H. and her books at:

http://hlewisfoster.wix.com/books

https://twitter.com/HLewisFoster

Guest Author Beverley Oakley and “Her Gilded Prison” + GIVEAWAY

Hi Susana,

Thank you so much for having me here to talk about my debut erotic historical romance with Ellora’s Cave, Her Gilded Prison.

Her Gilded Prison is classified ‘erotic’ because the theme is sexual, and yet the story itself is more that of a good and faithful woman in the Regency era inadvertently discovering fulfilment in her limited sphere. I say ‘inadvertent’ because Lady Sybil’s motivations are purely altruistic to begin with, though the story has aroused contention amongst readers.

Some see it as a story about infidelity. The official blurb would suggest that’s the case, however, I wrote the story based around the question: ‘How far would a good and virtuous woman go to ensure the security of her daughters and the viability of the estate to which her husband has devoted his life?’

My heroine, Lady Sybil, and her husband have had four children in their twenty years of marriage. Two sons have died in their early teens and two daughters remain. Lady Sybil is still able to have children but her husband, who is utterly devoted to his mistress, cannot bring himself to sire an heir with his wife.

So Lady Sybil, desperate to ensure the estate doesn’t go to an unworthy distant relative who would then have the right to cast out her daughters once he inherits, decides upon bold action to provide the heir her husband cannot, or will not.

Her Gilded Prison is not about infidelity but about courage and determination to do what is right by an unloving husband and dependant daughters. Love becomes the complication—but only later.

Below is a letter my heroine, the lovely, unloved Lady Sybil might have written to her distant cousin, Persephone, hinting at her confused feelings. Although the letter doesn’t appear in Her Gilded Prison, it lays out Lady Sybil’s sentiments and motivations in courting the attentions of my gorgeous hero, Stephen, who is transformed from a “laddish” young man to a sensitive and caring and ultimately very heroic hero through his deepening affection for Lady Sybil, a woman forced into marriage with a man who has never loved her.

My dearest Persephone,

You will no doubt be expecting the usual weekly, prosaic account of my life: that Hetty remains terrified of the prospect of her London come-out as she is convinced no one will ask her to stand up with them; that Araminta is as defiant as ever and determined to ignore the shadow cast by her London season’s dramatic finale last year.

Nothing changes when it comes to my daughters, and my fears are as great as ever for them: that Araminta will singe more than just her wings in the flame she’s fanned to her own magnificence; and that Hetty will moulder in the country, never blooming as she might were she to experience the true regard of a kind and caring gentleman.

A regard I have never known from Humphry who nevertheless continues to provide us with everything we need, other than his affection and attention. He reserves that for—

Ah, but Persephone, you know the pain is too great to mention her name, even to you, my dearest cousin. It is not jealousy that prevents me. Simply the pain of believing I will never in my lifetime know the love or consideration of a good man.

But now I must confess to you a foolish woman’s fancy. The daydream of an old woman who ought to know better for I will be one-and-forty my next birthday and my concentration should be focused only on my daughters’ successes—not on my daydreams.

Dearest cousin, you have always been the voice of reason when I heard none from my chivvying, unsentimental mother and my disinterested father who would still have me wed Humphry when they knew his heart belonged to another.

The fact is, I believe I have garnered the special interest of a kind and very handsome young man. For a week I have tried to convince myself that I must be quite queer in the attic. Indeed I must, for this young man, Stephen, was—until yesterday—Humphry’s heir and has been staying with us to learn the running of the estate.

And now for the most shocking part of this letter which occurred at close to midnight last night and turned our lives upside down. Humphry’s nephew, the late Edgar, whom we were all so relieved to learn had been killed at Corunna, made his miraculous reappearance upon our doorstep. I thought Humphry would die from the shock. It certainly was not pleasure for now Stephen—capable, intelligent Stephen, Humphry’s distant cousin whom he’d been grooming as his heir—has been usurped by a dullard.

I wept bitter tears afterwards as I prostrated myself upon my lonely bed —not because Edgar will become the next viscount but because it is I who have failed. I have not provided Humphry with a male heir who will inherit all that for which my husband has worked; my failure imperils my daughters’ security if they do not marry, for it is quite possible Edgar will deny them tenure in the family home. He is contrary like that.

And now I must end for there is much to organise with Edgar’s return. Sadness weighs heavy upon my heart at the thought of farewelling Stephen whose charm and good nature have brightened the moods of everyone here.

Ah, Persephone, I would provide Humphry with an heir if he would only come to me but he will never betray that woman. Not even to try for the son who would change all our fortunes for the better.

Tomorrow I will solicit Stephen’s counsel. When he first arrived I thought him young and, being so handsome, surely overly fond of the young ladies. I was wrong. He is wise beyond his years, and he is kind. And, to my astonishment, he seems to hold me in high regard. The way he looks at me…

Foolish, I know. I will not pursue that line of thought. Suffice to say I feel sure he will listen well. I’m sure he will help me with the terrible conundrum that places all of us in such peril…”

About Her Gilded Prison

Lady Sybil’s perfect life is a perfect lie. Her husband spends more time with his beloved mistress and illegitimate children than he does with her. Worse, since he no longer beds her, they’re left with only a distant cousin as heir. While her husband lives, Sybil knows no erotic touches, no passion. No love. If her husband dies, her home will be entailed to Stephen, a stranger.

When Stephen visits the property that will one day be his, he’s instantly ensnared in a web of lust, longing and lies. For how can he resist Lady Sybil, a woman so full of beauty and life? A woman who deserves to be loved and worshipped and set free from the gilded prison in which she’s trapped? Stephen is determined to show Lady Sybil every pleasure she’s been deprived of, even if it means being forever condemned in society’s eyes.

Inside Scoop: This erotic Regency romance features an intense, taboo relationship between an older woman and a younger man.

A Romantica® historical erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

“Think “Downton Abbey with sex….”

Update and Giveaway

Thank you so much for having me here today. I’ve really enjoyed it. It’s helped take my mind off losing my lovely Homer, the handsome Rhodesian Ridgeback you’ll see in my profile picture and who has been with the family for eleven years.

On a happier note, the sequel to Her Gilded Prison has just been acquired, I’m very pleased to announce. It’s called Dangerous Gentlemen and is as different in tone as possible from Her Gilded Prison as it follows the unexpected path of Lady Sybil’s quiet daughter Hetty through London revels.

I’d also love to offer a giveaway of my English Civil War novella The Cavalier to one random commenter.

Available

Ellora’s Cave • Amazon

Contacts

www.beverleyoakley.com

www.facebook/AuthorBeverleyOakley

http://beverleyeikli.blogspot.com

@BeverleyOakley

Guest Author: Debra Glass + Giveaway

Susana:

Today my guest is Debra Glass, who, like me, writes historicals for Ellora’s Cave, although hers are quite a bit more steamy than mine! Last year I loved her ménage book, Scarlet Widow, so I’m eager to hear about her latest release, Lover For Ransom. Welcome to Susana’s Parlour, Debra!

Debra:

Thank you very much for hosting me in the Parlour today.

A Yankee Teacher Comes South in Lover for Ransom

Cathleen Ryan is one of my favorite heroines. She’s feisty and no nonsense and has a firm grip on everyone and everything—except herself. I thoroughly enjoyed writing her interaction with Southern hero, Ransom Byrne, who found he was far more intrigued with the Yankee hired help than he wanted to admit.

Leave me a comment and be sure to include your email address. One lucky commenter will receive a copy of Lover for Ransom!

**********

Byrne’s End, Thompson’s Station, Tennessee

June 3, 1866

Mr. John A. Bennett

Dear Sir,

I have arrived in Tennessee in one piece, though at times, I highly doubted that would be the case. Once my train crossed the Mason Dixon line, there was a marked change in the land. Many once grand dwellings are now but burned out shells, skeletal remains of the bastions of slavery I so fervently fought against during my tenure as an abolitionist prior to the war. I must admit, however, this area referred to as Middle Tennessee by its inhabitants is, for the most part, unscathed by the ravages of the war.

Upon my arrival, I was met at the station by Mr. Ransom Byrne who, I’m given to understand, contracted my service with the Perkins School for the Blind. Though pleasant enough, Mr. Byrne embodies all the qualities I would have heretofore ascribed to a former officer in the Rebel Army. With his easy and overly familiar manner of speech, he seeks to dazzle and woo, but I assure you, Mr. Bennett, those cavalier charms are lost on an affirmed spinster such as I, but not, as I so shockingly observed, on the local maidens.

Mr. Byrne took it upon himself to confide in me that, during the war, he had been brought home to convalesce during an illness which he unwittingly spread to members of the Byrne family, including my charge, his younger sister, Jenny. The illness resulted in her blindness, and I have clearly determined that my work with the sixteen-year-old has been cut out for me. Like many who have been robbed of sight in the bloom of life, Miss Byrne is disillusioned and bitter. I have no doubts I shall be able to rectify that and teach her that the blind can indeed live full lives.

It is obvious to me that Mr. Byrne feels beholden to his family and their business of horse breeding. In fact, the Byrnes and their servants alike, put far too much stock and trust in the wiles of the beasts, as I unfortunately learned firsthand after a mishap with a wagon and its novice driver, seven-year-old Charles Hunt.

I imagine a lesser woman would be intimidated by the Southern aristocracy, but not I. I fully intend to not only adhere to the standards I have adopted from my friends and mentors, Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Miss Susan B. Anthony, but to instruct these Southern women, long repressed by their menfolk, the way to equality both in the home and at the voting poll.

As soon as I begin my instruction with Miss Byrne, I will write to you and inform you of my progress. Again, I appreciate the opportunity you have afforded me to travel from my hometown of Boston to this godforsaken land where I might not only help this young woman, but also enlighten my Southern sisters.

Very Truly Yours,

Cathleen M. Ryan

About Lover For Ransom

Ransom Byrne has been ravaged by guilt since an illness rendered his little sister blind. The former Confederate cavalry officer has resolved to make amends by hiring a Yankee tutor who’ll hopefully restore order to his sister’s life. Once accomplished, he’ll be free to leave Byrne’s End.

From the moment she steps off the train in Tennessee, Cathleen Ryan makes a startling first impression. With her feminist ideas, the irrepressible Bostonian quickly outrages everyone—especially Ransom. He deems the bespectacled teacher too uptight and prim for his tastes. Appearances, however, are deceiving. She tenders decadent proposals that shock and intrigue him, and sultry nights spent submitting to his every illicit request offer them both love and redemption.

But when her steadfast convictions attract the attention of dangerous men, Cathleen risks losing her chance of becoming more than just a lover for Ransom.

Inside Scoop: This 19^th-century tale contains mild violence, spanking, sloppy puppy kisses, more spanking, fiery suffragette speeches and an attitudinal horse named String Bean.

A Romantica® historical erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Excerpt From: LOVER FOR RANSOM

Copyright © DEBRA GLASS, 2013

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

“Don’t you ever read anything for pleasure?”

She toyed with the earpieces of her glasses, her mind fixed on the way his velvety drawl had played havoc with the word pleasure. She cleared her throat. “There are far too many important things to read to waste my poor eyesight on frivolities, Mr. Byrne.”

He closed her book, set it on the table and stood. Cathleen flinched as his leg brushed hers when he passed on his way to the bookcase. He opened it and pressed his fingertip to his lips in thought as he perused its contents.

Cathleen studied his casual stance. His weight shifted to one leg and his head cocked to the side. He looked back at her, stared so long it made her insides quiver and then turned back to the collection and removed a slender book from the shelf.

“I shall read to you then,” he said with a smile and he returned to his chair. “To protect your poor eyesight from…frivolities.”

Cathleen gulped as his long fingers opened the book and he thumbed through the pages. It looked like a child’s volume in his hands and she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d chosen.

“Ah, here,” he said, placing his elbow casually on the armrest of his chair to hold the book at a comfortable height. “It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, that a maiden lived there that you may know by the name of Annabel Lee.”

Edgar Allan Poe. Of course she was familiar with the famed Baltimore author. But she’d read his works in braille, and certainly had never heard them read aloud by a man with such a hauntingly husky voice. This night—this moment, with the clock’s pendulum ticking off the seconds in time with the poem’s meter and the flickering glow of the lamp—seemed to be made for the dark, beautifully macabre poem about a woman who’d died before her time.

“For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams of the beautiful Annabel Lee,” Ransom continued.

Cathleen closed her eyes, picturing a pair of young lovers walking hand in hand on a stormy beach. Ransom’s voice transported her and she felt the anguish of the author who’d lost his love only to find himself frequented by her ghost.

“And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side, of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, in the sepulcher there by the sea, in her tomb by the sounding sea.”

Eyes still closed, Cathleen sat in the stillness, absorbing the song contained in the words. When her lashes fluttered open, she was surprised at the tear that traced down her cheek. Blushing, she swept it away. “Very nice, Mr. Byrne.”

He raised his eyebrows in mock warning.

She giggled. She actually giggled. Closing her eyes for a split second, she struggled to compose herself. She was acting like a bashful schoolgirl. “Ransom,” she corrected, her voice but a breath.

In that instant, something had suddenly changed between them and she was at a loss to decipher it.

Staring, he inhaled. “With your hair loose, you reminded me of the woman in that poem.”

Her eyes widened. “Dead?”

He chuckled without mirth. “No. Wild and windswept.”

This time, Cathleen did begin to smooth her hair down.

“No,” he said. “No. Don’t touch it. It’s perfect the way it is.” He must have realized he’d said too much. “I mean, it’s only you and me. There’s no need for pretense.”

Cathleen nodded. Her gaze fell to the brown leather covered book in his hand. “Do you believe such love exists?”

He snorted and closed the book. “This was the fancy of a man who imbibed too much and who thought too much. Love like that is for the young and foolish—for people who haven’t experienced the things I have.”

Cathleen gnawed her bottom lip. “Are you referring to your time during the war?”

He suddenly looked uncomfortable. His big and masculine exterior seemed incongruous with his sudden unease. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I saw and did things no living human being should ever have to see or do. Things that’ll make you hate yourself.”

Cathleen didn’t know how to respond. Newspapers told of the hardships and combat. She’d seen soldiers boarding trains to join the fighting. She’d watched neighbors don their widow’s weeds. She herself had received a telegram informing her that her brother had been killed. But even when the war had come into her very home, it had always seemed a distant thing. But these Tennesseans had lived the war. This man had fought it. Federal troops had occupied their home. While on the train, she’d overheard tales about frightening guerilla raids from both sides, about men who didn’t live by any code of decency, who took what they wanted and killed indiscriminately. These families had lived day to day, wondering if their hard-earned food stores, their homes or even their very lives would be taken from them.

“No,” Ransom continued. “The war was anything but glory.”

Still, Cathleen remained uncharacteristically silent. While she pitied the plight of these people, in her eyes, the war had been a necessary evil, a vehicle through which an entire race had broken the bonds of slavery and declared themselves free. And yet, she didn’t feel free to admit her thoughts on the matter to Ransom Byrne. Not tonight.

“What about you, Cathleen?” he asked, his gaze finding and holding hers, daring her to correct him. “Do you believe in that kind of love?” His tone was almost mocking.

Realizing he’d shifted the conversation back to the poem, she let out a laugh. “Of course not. In fact, I don’t agree with marriage at all and I shall never marry.”

“How did you come to this conclusion?”

“Contrary to what you might think, I haven’t chosen a life of spinsterhood because I am bookish and outspoken, not to mention plain.” She straightened, confused at the way a belief she’d always maintained with pride, now hurt. “No. I simply do not accept as true that a woman should have to marry and live out her days in subjugation.”

“Subjugation?” he asked and then laughed. “I’ve always thought that was the other way around. All the married men I know are pretty beholden to their wives.”

“That’s but a puerile joke. We all know that marriage gives husbands rights to a woman’s livelihood and even her body, if he so chooses to claim them. For a woman, marriage is nothing but legalized…rape.”

This time, both his eyebrows shot up. “That’s a mighty strong word.”

“A married man can demand his rights anytime he chooses. Therefore, if a woman is forced into coitus with him, it is legalized rape.” Cathleen lifted her chin, awaiting an argument. It was a strong word. But he needed to know how she felt about subjugation. She needed him to know it.

Instead, he surprised her. “Don’t you ever feel desire?”

Yes, I’m feeling it this very instant.

Can’t wait for the drawing? Buy Lover for Ransom (available in all ereader formats ) at Ellora’s Cave today! http://www.ellorascave.com/lover-for-ransom.html

About the Author

DEBRA GLASS is the author of over thirty-five books of historical and paranormal romance, non-fiction, young adult romance, and folklore. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and the Professional Authors’ Network as well as RWA’s Heart of Dixie and Southern Magic Chapters.

She lives in Alabama with her real life hero, a couple of smart-aleck ghosts, and a diabolical black cat.

www.DebraGlass.com

Guest Author Sabrina York Talks About Steamy Regency Romance

Win a $20 Amazon Gift Card and/or a Treasuring Theresa coffee mug!

Susana’s Parlour is celebrating the second anniversary of The Romance Reviews with the Treasuring Theresa Lucky In Love Giveaway. To enter the contest, click the TRR graphic at right or the Treasuring Theresa graphic in the side bar.

Before you go, leave a comment on today’s guest post for five contest entries. Be sure to include your email address in your comment!

My guest today is Ellora’s Cave author Sabrina York, aka “Her Royal Hotness,” whose book Dark Fancy has just been released.

(Note that Sabrina is giving away a gorgeous tiara to some lucky subscriber to her newsletter. See photo below.)

Raving Reviews and (Steamy) Regency Romance

I’ll admit it. I LOVE writing erotic romance. It’s so much fun tying together deep, gripping emotions and really hot sex. But it surprised me how much I really LOVED writing erotic Regencies.

There’s just something about historical romance, the dashing heroes, the ridiculous rules of the time—the elbow length gloves. Something that makes me want to incite my characters to mischief.

Imagine how delighted I was that my first attempt at this intriguing era was met with rave reviews! Night Owl Reviews said: “Folly is one of the best historical romances I’ve ever read…everything I like about romances; a handsome, mysterious hero, a strong, but vulnerable heroine, comical side characters, a cruel villain, and just the right amount of a physical relationship between characters. York keeps the romance going, while keeping the book a page-turner. I couldn’t put down. York really knows how to write a truly steamy, exciting, and satisfying romance.”

How fortuitous that I had already finished and edited the prequel, Dark Fancy. This short and steamy novel tells the tale of James Tully, Earl of Darlington and the wayward waif who captures his heart, Helena Eloise Simpson.

James is betrothed to marry some faceless woman when he meets this adorable runaway. He has it in his mind to seduce her and introduce her to his darkest fancy—which of course, is quite naughty. By the time he realizes Eloise is really Helena, his betrothed, it’s too late. She’s fled.

You know he has to chase her!

I hope you enjoy this blurb and excerpt from Dark Fancy. Please pick up the book if you can, and be sure to let me know how you liked it.

About Dark Fancy

When Lady Helena Eloise Simpson flees an unwanted marriage to a revolting lord, she finds refuge with James, a charming, handsome man unlike any she’s ever known. Helena concocts the perfect solution to her problem. She asks—begs—James to ruin her. Surely her betrothed will repudiate her if she is no longer pure. And if all her efforts fail and she still ends up married to a horrid man until the end of her days, she will—at least once—have known true passion.

But James is not all he seems. He is, in fact, a wicked lord with a dark fancy. When Helena awakens his desire, he becomes determined to take everything she has to offer and more. No matter the cost.

Excerpt

Copyright © 2013 by Sabrina York, 2013

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing , Inc.

“Men are very possessive, are they not?”

He shrugged. “Some are.”

“But would those men, the ones who are, would they want a bride who was not pure?”

He licked his lips again although there was no droplet there. “What are you proposing, Eloise?” The low throb of his voice excited her. He knew what she was proposing, and judging from the cant of his head, he liked the idea.

“I was just thinking, if you spoiled me, maybe he wouldn’t want me anymore.”

“Spoiled you?” His brow wrinkled. He said the word as though it tasted bad.

“Deflowered me.”

He swallowed. “You’re a virgin.” Not a question. He was just clarifying the facts. But the prospect concerned him. His thoughts were plain on his face.

“I’m a desperate virgin. Please, James. Won’t you consider it?”

“I’ve been considering it since the instant we met.”

A shard of heat sliced through her. “You have?” She traced the edge of her cup. “I was wondering if you found me attractive.”

He snorted. Then took an altogether too deep draw of wine. Coughed. Once he recovered, he said, “Yes, my dear. I do find you attractive. And as much as I ache to…spoil you, I find myself clutched in the claws of conscience.”

“Haven’t you ever ruined a woman before?”

His laugh came out in a bark. “Indeed, I hope I have. Ruined her for other men, at least. But no. I’ve never had a virgin.” He sobered. “I am told it can be painful.”

She threw back her shoulders. “I’m sure I could bear it. If it released me from this abominable betrothal.” She flicked a look at him beneath her lashes. “I should so like to try.”

James stared at Eloise, brave, proud, innocent Eloise. He could relate to the passion in her plea. He had a sudden desire to be released from a betrothal himself. He fiddled with the corner of his napkin. “There is always the chance your betrothed won’t care if you’re ruined.” Some men did not.

Her lashes fluttered. When they rose again, there was a look in her eye that sent lust coursing down his spine. It settled in his lap. “If I’m to be married to a bilious flounder of a man for the rest of my life, I should like to know passion just once. Just once, James.”

“J-just once?” His voice cracked.

Her smile blossomed. “Perhaps more than once.”

He had to laugh, although this was clearly no laughing matter. “My dear. I would be happy to oblige.”

“Excellent!” She clapped her hands with glee.

Unfortunate, that, because it made her look, once again, like a little girl. But then she picked up her cup and ran her pink tongue around the rim, lapping at the wayward drops. He reached for the second bottle.

She held out her cup for a refill. “You will need to show me what to do.”

He almost forgot to stop pouring. Hell yes. He’d love to show her what to do. He’d love to instruct her—in elaborate detail—what, precisely, to do. Something snarled in his belly. His palm itched.

He forced down that decadent desire. Chained the beast.

For God’s sake. She was an innocent, a virgin. If he opened with that card, not only would she truly be ruined, she would probably hie off to the nearest nunnery and spend the remainder of her life in seclusion.

Oh, he would bed her. He would despoil and beguile her, but only in the very gentlest of fashions.

But his fantasies, the darkling imagery of what he would truly like to do, simmered.

“Are you…” He cleared his throat. “Are you ready for your bath?”

“Heavens, yes.” Once again, she clapped her hands.

The childlike gesture was off-putting since, at the moment, he was thinking of sinking into her body and swallowing her moans with his mouth. But he liked her enthusiasm. It also made him desire—very deeply—to tie those hands to the bedposts. So she couldn’t clap them.

Why that thought made him salivate, he didn’t know.

Ah hell. Of course he knew.

Despite the lust snarling through him, he managed a modicum of chivalry, although it was perfunctory at best. “I’ll fashion a curtain.”

Her next words nearly unmanned him. “You don’t need to.”

“I b-beg your pardon?”

“You don’t need to bother with a curtain.” For a shy and demure innocent, she had something of a brazen streak. “I mean, if we’re going to…you know…”

“Make love?”

“Yes. If we’re going to make love, you will see me naked anyway.” A frown crossed her brow. “Won’t you?”

He chuckled. “Most certainly.”

“I thought so. But people are not very forthcoming when one asks about such things.”

“Really?” That had not been his experience in the slightest. Then again, she was a girl. The world sought to save and protect innocence. Until it ravaged it.

He did not know why he trembled as he poured the heavy buckets into the tub. He was a man of the world. Jaded and used to much more decadent fare than initiating virgins to the delights of the flesh. He should hardly be nervous about the prospect of having her.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t nerves. Maybe it was just pure, seething desire…

Dark Fancy is now available for preorder on Amazon.

About Sabrina York

Sabrina is an award winning author of erotic romance with over a dozen titles available, ranging from sweet & sexy erotic romance to BDSM to erotic horror. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york or Facebook.

Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt on her webpage (www.sabrinayork.com) or explore on Amazon or at Ellora’s Cave.

Dark Fancy: Erotic Regency
Folly: Erotic Regency
Adam’s Obsession: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Extreme Couponing: Contemporary BDSM
Pushing Her Buttons: Contemporary BDSM
Rising Green: Steamy Erotic horror
Training Tess: Contemporary BDSM
Trickery: Magical Domination
Tristan’s Temptation: Contemporary Erotic Romance

Coming Releases

Man Hungry (Short Story): Available March 31, 2013 from Ellora’s Cave

Win a Tiara From Her Royal Hotness!

Enter to win a gorgeous tiara by signing up for Sabrina York’s Royal Hotsheet (new book and contest info only—no spam! Your e-mail address will not be shared). If you’re already getting the newsletter, don’t fret. You’re already in the drawing. Send an email with “Enter Me” in the subject line (this is erotica, after all) to sabrina@sabrinayork.com. The drawing will be March 31, 2013.

One entry per person.

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Tell your friends about Sabrina York, Her Royal Hotness. If they sign up for Sabrina’s Hotsheet you earn another entry, plus a chance at a Referrals Only drawing for more bling. (NOTE: They must tell me that you referred them in the message box so I can give you credit).

Good luck!!!

Berengaria Brown Presents Her “Elinor’s Stronghold” Series

Last week, Berengaria presented her Regency series, Virgins No More. Today she’s focusing on her medieval series, Elinor’s Stronghold. Welcome back, Berengaria.

What inspired you to write the “Elinor’s Stronghold” series?

I’ve always loved historical romance and have published half a dozen Regency-set romances. But then I got to thinking about castles, women in flowing gowns, and half-naked warriors with long swords. What’s not to like about medieval days? It all started as the story of a young woman who’s left alone to care for her people when her father and two brothers are killed in battle. Then another woman arrived on the scene, the villain refused to be defeated, and, just when I thought the series was finished, I remembered my love of Robin Hood stories and realized one hero still didn’t have his happily-ever-after.

Of course, I was named after Richard the Lionheart’s wife, Berengaria of Navarre, so I’ve had a link to medieval history ever since I was born.

Which element of story creation is your favorite and why?

When the ideas flow, the characters are talking to me, and I can’t type fast enough for all I want to say.

What is your writing process?

I don’t begin writing until the characters are clear in my head and I know what they want. I need a beginning and an end, and some midpoints to reach on the way through. Then I begin typing.

What do you enjoy the most about writing?

When the book is finished and I know I’ve done my best.

Is there a certain type of character or theme that you find yourself coming back to again and again?

Summer, vacations, and water seem to recur in my books. Even in the middle of winter in the “Elinor’s Stronghold” series, the river has its part to play in the plot.

What’s the first book you remember loving?

My father taught me to read before I started school and I always loved my books but I don’t know the first book. I do know that it was Georgette Heyer who addicted me to romance, when I was a young teenager.

Do you read the same genre that you write?

Yes and no. I read anything and everything, and I write across multiple genres: contemporary, paranormal, historical. When I’m actually in the midst of writing a book, I only read nonfiction because I don’t want to lose my train of thought.

What’s your advice to new writers?

Never give up. Keep reading, keep writing, keep polishing your craft.

What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

Reading, hanging out with friends, eating chocolate.

Berengaria’s Bio:

Berengaria is a multi-published author of erotic romance: contemporary, paranormal (magic, ghosts, vampires, fairies, dragons, and werewolves), futuristic, medieval, and Regency-set historical. She loves to read all different kinds of romance so that is what she writes: one man/one woman; two women; two men; two men/one woman; three men, two women/one man, three men/one woman…. Whatever the characters need for their very hot happily-ever-after, Berengaria makes sure they get it.

The Elinor’s Stronghold series: medieval historical MMF and MFM.

Book 1: Pillaging Elinor’s Castle

Lady Elinor’s father and two brothers are killed in battle, and Lord Rhys loses his demesne. To protect her people Elinor decides she will marry Lord Rhys, but only if he agrees the Captain of the Guard, Hammond, will share their bed and the decision-making from now on. They agree and seal their contract in blood. Rhys and his people move into the stronghold.

After the wedding they begin to plan for how to survive the attack that will inevitably come. The stronghold is a wealthy one, and many will consider it an easy target with its lord and his sons dead. They also have to blend the two households together and prepare for the coming winter. At night Hammond and Rhys work hard in bed, learning to share Elinor, finding out what pleases her best, and arousing each other to new heights along the way.

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/pillaging-elinors-castle

Book 2: Defending Rhyannon’s Inheritance

Hated and incompetent Lord Jeffrey wants to marry Rhyannon, and her bad-tempered cousin, Coll, wants to steal her jewels. She needs a good protector.

Alistair has loved her faithfully for years, but he has no assets and can’t support them both. Lord Devon is a suitable husband, but does he even like Rhyannon? It’s a big challenge, but maybe together Alistair and Lord Devon can protect her and her jewels from Lord Jeffrey and Cousin Coll.

Meanwhile, winter is settling on the stronghold and Lord Jeffrey is attacking the people once again. And Cousin Coll is determined to get her jewels any way he can. Surviving the winter is hard enough to do without all these other things happening as well. Everyone in the stronghold is living on a knife edge. Alistair and Lord Devon focus on Rhyannon. They’ll love her and protect her—and each other as well.

Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/defending-rhyannons-inheritance

Book 3: Restoring Garnet’s Heart

Tragically widowed, Garnet is loved by two men. If a noble lady can have two men, why can’t a mere sewing woman? Garnet decides she’ll marry them both! Then she adopts two orphaned, starving little girls.

Garnet, Byram, and Carlysle are sent to repair the demesne. Can they achieve this huge task before the harvest is gathered in? First, a high stone wall needs to be built to protect them from attackers. The buildings must be cleaned and repaired, the crops sown, weeded, cared for, and hopefully reaped. Is it possible to complete such a huge undertaking before the next vicious winter arrives? Will the peasants help them?

Meanwhile, Lady Elinor gives birth to the heir of the stronghold, and Lord Rhys and Lady Rhyannon, with Alistair and Lord Devon, go to court to sort out her inheritance.

And what about Garnet’s threesome relationship? Will that be successful?

Buy link: http://www.bookstrand.com/restoring-garnets-heart

Book 4: Bringing Home Claire

A year ago, Paul took his sister Claire away to escape Lord Jeffrey’s attacks on the hamlets. Mitchell and Claire were in love, but Mitchell hadn’t asked her to marry him before she left. Now he aches for her, and goes in search of her to bring her back to his home as his bride. But no one has seen or heard of her, and the hamlet where she was to go is empty.

Finally Mitchell meets Ivan, who takes him into the forest where Claire and Paul, and Ivan himself, have been living for the past year. But Ivan loves Claire, too, and Claire owes him her life. Mitchell suggests he and Ivan share Claire. Can this possibly work—two men with no tie to each other and the one woman they both love? And can they survive a dangerous journey home?

Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/bringing-claire-home

Excerpt from Restoring Garnet’s Heart

Lady Elinor stared at the two children in front of her. One, a girl, looked to be about six years old and dragged a cooking pot with a few possessions inside it. Her arms and legs were stick-thin, her hair was falling out in clumps, and her belly was swollen.

The child had been eating bark and leaves to try to stem her hunger, and her belly was full of air, assumed Garnet, who was standing beside Lady Elinor among the other sewing women of the castle.

The younger child, which could be either a girl or boy, and was maybe three years old, clutched the older one’s tunic in one hand, and sucked hard on its other thumb. It, too, was painfully thin, though less bloated by starvation.

“You wish to become my slave?” Lady Elinor’s voice was even and mild, but Garnet knew she was shocked. Peasant men from the smallest of uncaring Lord Jeffrey’s hamlets had begged to become slaves of the castle in return for food during this terrible winter, but few females, and no one as young as this little child.

“Yes, Lady Elinor. I can scare birds from the crops when they’re planted, and clean for you. Ysabel will stay with me. I’ve always looked after her since Ma died, and she won’t touch the seedlings. She’s a good girl, and no trouble at all. And I will grow big, and learn to fight for you and Lord Rhys, and then I’ll kill the men who murdered our Pa and took all our hamlet’s food,” the child finished fiercely, almost in a shout.

Garnet felt her eyebrows rise and forced her face not to break into a grin. It was plain this tiny, starved child had the heart of a warrior indeed.

Lady Elinor rested her hand on her huge belly. It was almost time for the heir to the stronghold to be born.

“Well then, Nerida is already learning warrior skills, and if the heir to the stronghold is a girl, she will be a warrior, too. I see no reason why you can’t also be a warrior, if that is your desire. What is your name, and where are the other people from your hamlet?”

“I’m Ava, lady, and I promise to serve you forever. Most of the people left after the soldiers came raiding. Some have tried to help Ysabel and me, but I’d rather work for my food.”

Garnet watched Ava’s thin, little shoulders straighten as she spoke. At her age, Garnet would never have dared to approach the Lady of the Castle, and Garnet had never been a shy child. But this girl was truly a warrior born. She was that rare being who combined the ability to think of a solution to a problem with the courage to step outside any rules of society and do it, no matter what the consequences may turn out to be.

Without stopping to think, Garnet moved to stand where Lady Elinor could see her. “The two girls may share my room, lady, and I will supervise their activities.”

“It is decided then, Ava. You and Ysabel may join the stronghold. We will feed you, and you will work. You will obey Garnet in all things. Do you understand?”

“Yes, lady, thank you.”

Ava dropped to her knees and pressed her face to Lady Elinor’s feet. Ysabel copied her.

Garnet’s eyes flooded with tears. Peasants always died when there was trouble in the land, especially the very old and the very young. They weren’t strong enough to fight back or fast enough to run away. But this child deserved to live.

Garnet’s husband, Roldan, had been one of Lord Rhys’s soldiers, and was killed in the battle that took the lives of Lady Elinor’s father and brothers and caused Lord Rhys to lose his demesne to Lord Jeffrey. They had been married only six months, not long enough for her to worry about not getting pregnant, but now he was dead, the parents of these children were dead, and Ava was a daughter any woman would be proud to call her own.

Berengaria Brown

http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/

http://berengariabrown.com/

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Guest Interview: Berengaria Brown

Today my guest is Berengaria Brown, who writes in many sub-genres of romance, although today she’ll be discussing her Regency series. Welcome to Susana’s Parlour, Berengaria!

What is your favorite historical period or region and why? Did you enjoy history while you were in school or was it frankly boring? How would you suggest we teach history to kids now—(i.e.) can fiction maybe be a tool here? Do you think we can and should learn from the past or is it now irrelevant to modern times and issues?

I loved history in school and have always enjoyed reading history textbooks, and biographies as well as historical fiction. Likely my favorite era is Regency England, thanks to an addiction to Georgette Heyer developed in my early teenage years, but I also enjoy medieval. One of the first biographies I read was of Queen Elizabeth I of England and I developed, and have maintained, a great deal of admiration for her.

People and what motivates them don’t change, but the means by which they achieve their ambitions may change. I think kids enjoy history more when they hear the stories of the people. Learning the dates of battles may be boring but hearing about the people who lived through those battles is more engaging.

Do you think historical accuracy is important in fiction? How about the use of modern speech and politically correct ideas instead of those that faithfully portray the period? Do you find this good, bad, a necessary evil or something you shun?

Factual accuracy is essential. People didn’t know about germs, microscopes and antibiotics had not been invented. They would never have sterilized the wounds. But your hero can fall into a river and wash off the dirt that way. Politically correct is a bit different. You do need to be correct to the ideas of the times. For example “bloody” was not used as a swear word as it was considered a reference to menstruation—something that was never discussed. The further back in history you go though, the more difficult it is to use the correct language as we have lost the words or their meanings have changed. But I consider it very important not to use a concept that was not yet understood. No psychology in medieval times, but you heroine may be considered mad or a witch.

Can you share a favorite author and title that perhaps inspired you to write in the historical genre?

Georgette Heyer. Any of her Regencies. She is the epitome of the era for me.

If there were such a thing as a time machine, where would be the first place you would go once you had a ticket to ride? Do you think you’d want to stay or just look around and then come right back to today?

I would like to go to the Court of Queen Elizabeth I of England. It was a very exciting time historically and she was an incredibly powerful ruler.

But I would likely miss not having bathrooms and heating or air conditioning, and the Internet, and come home after a little while—in winter if not before.

Please give us a bit of information about the book or books you’re sharing today.

The Virgins No More series consists of three MF erotic Regency-set historical books featuring the Arnott family.

The Vicar’s Virgin is Georgina’s story, Almost a Virgin is Theodora’s story, and A Promising Virgin is Sapphira’s story.

Book 1: The Vicar’s Virgin

The Reverend Mr. Ridley needs a wife so he focuses his attentions on Georgina Arnott, a sensible, intelligent, yet attractive woman.

On their wedding night he’s relieved to discover she enjoys the pleasures of the bed, and, after a slow start, their evenings are full of passion and joy for both of them.

Unfortunately, when she takes an interest in his parish, it seems to involve filling his house with noisy people tramping muddy boots through the hallways, and filling his kitchen with dirty children.

He loves his wife. But can this marriage work?

Buy link: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-vicars-virgin-by-berengaria-brown/

Book 2: Almost a Virgin

Theodora has loved John Smith ever since she was a little girl. But he’s very wealthy and she is only a vicar’s daughter and sister.

John had been waiting for Theodora to grow up. When he kisses Theodora in the garden at the ball, lust roars through him and he takes her there in the garden, fully dressed, only a few yards away from a hundred people. She’s warm and more than willing in his arms, and it’s not until the deed is done that he realizes he’s just dishonored his best friend’s sister.

Theodora doesn’t regret what she’s done. She enjoyed it and wants more of him. Even though he’s only marrying her because he dishonored her, she doesn’t care. She’ll make him so happy in bed and in his home he’ll stay with her even though he may never love her.

Buy link: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/almost-a-virgin-by-berengaria-brown/

Book 3: A Promising Virgin

Zethan, Earl of Mitcham, decides, after careful thought, that the stunningly beautiful Miss Sapphira Arnott will make him the perfect wife. It’s only when she declines his oh-so-flattering offer, that he realizes how rude and arrogant he’d been to her and her brother, and how much he loves her. The only solution is to woo her properly.

Meanwhile Simeon Arnott is in love with Miss Anne Smith. But she’s incredibly rich and he’s a mere baronet. Fortunately her brother and she herself accept his proposal and they have an extremely successful wedding night. Their ball, however, is almost less than successful thanks to the “help” of the three youngest Arnotts and their plans to go one better than a recent much-talked-about society event.

The Season is almost over. Can Zethan win his lady’s trust?

Buy link: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/a-promising-virgin-by-berengaria-brown/

STORY EXCERPT

The earl was standing at the window, his back to her. He was a very good-looking man—tall, with broad shoulders, and muscled arms and legs. She knew he rode well and played all sorts of manly pursuits. And, of course, he was rich and titled. Simeon was right. She wouldn’t get a better offer than this one from him. And she did like him. She enjoyed his company. He was always a considerate dance partner and his conversation was intelligent and witty. Her heart always beat faster when he held her in his arms for a waltz. She’d known herself very jealous of other women if he danced the waltz with them. Did that mean she loved him? She looked at his taut ass in his tight breeches. His body looked mighty fine and being older than her he’d know well how to please a woman. Her belly clenched at the thought of a man’s hands in all her secret places. She rather thought she’d enjoy the marriage bed. Especially with a well-built, good-looking man like Mitcham.

“Have you finished looking at me, Sapphira? Shall we have the wedding one month from today? In the cathedral of course. No other church will be big enough for all the guests I’ll need to invite.”

Sapphira took a step back in surprise. “You haven’t asked me yet.”

Mitcham stared at her then came closer and took her hands in his. “Dear Miss Arnott, please accept my offer to unite my house with yours in holy matrimony.”

“Do you care for me at all?” she asked hesitantly.

“You’re beautiful. Your wealth and lineage are adequate. You suit me well enough. I’ve never proposed to anyone before, if that’s what you mean. Now, I’ll send my man of affairs to the Bank of England to my lockbox to retrieve the diamond and ruby ring. You can go to Rundell and Bridge tomorrow so they can alter it to fit your finger properly. Then—”

She pulled her hands out of his grasp. “But you don’t care for me as a person. I’d always hoped to marry a man who cared for me at least a little.”

“Of course I care for you. I’m about to spend a monkey altering a family heirloom ring to fit your finger.”

“That’s not what I mean. My mama and papa loved and respected each other. They had a happy marriage. Georgina and Barnabas have found happiness together. They too love each other. I want to marry a man I can love and who loves me in return.”

“Love is for peasants, not for people of our class. You can love our son when he’s born. I will provide you with everything you can possibly need.”

“No. No you can’t. Because what I need is to be loved. I’m sorry, my lord, but I cannot accept your very flattering offer.” Sapphira turned and ran out of the room.

Where can our readers find out more about you and your writing? Please share your web site, social network pages, blogs or any other contact areas you maintain

Berengaria is a multi-published author of erotic romance: contemporary, paranormal (magic, ghosts, vampires, fairies, dragons, and werewolves), futuristic, medieval, and Regency-set historical. She loves to read all different kinds of romance so that is what she writes: one man/one woman; two women; two men; two men/one woman; three men, two women/one man, three men/one woman…. Whatever the characters need for their very hot happily-ever-after, Berengaria makes sure they get it.

I update my blog several times a week: http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/

Website: http://berengariabrown.com/

Friend me on Facebook, follow me on Twitter

Susana, thank you so much for inviting me into your parlour today.

Berengaria