Into The Depths - Excerpt from Chapter 1 by Canice Brown-Porter
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WIP (work-in-progress) This is a historical time travel erotica.
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chapter 1:
Excerpt from Chapter 1
Excerpt from Chapter 1
chapter 1
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updated Aug 04, 2008
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© 2006 - 2008 Canice Brown-Porter
Into the Depths
EXCERPT
Carleigh walked closer to the painting. Awestruck at the exquisite detail devoted to the Viscount’s chiseled features, she couldn’t help but stare. An Adonis in his time, she thought.
She trembled with a peculiar coolness creeping down along her spine. A floating sensation engulfed her. Her body became restless, seeking…something. Her thoughts stumbled while trying to grasp a thought…a feeling. It was just out of her reach. Whatever it is, she thought.
Dark chestnut hair caressed his neck and teased the top of the broad shoulders that filled the width of the portrait.
His bronze skin glowed against the starched white cravat bunched around his throat. The Viscount’s chin and jawline were strong, prominent.
Carleigh’s intent study of the portrait revealed the faintest trace of a smile mounted on his small upper lip and the fuller lower one. An imperceptible, roguish smile, she thought. Amazing. She grinned.
Her gaze moved up casually taking in the straight line of his well-proportioned nose, which ended at a penetrating steel gray stare. Her breath caught in her throat. The glint of the sun flashing across a double-edged sword. Lethal. Severe. Full of fire. Carleigh studied the gaze focused on her finding a mix of arrogance and warmth encased by heavy dark lashes and brows. She exhaled.
Her eyes fell on the gold inscribed plaque mounted on the bottom of the rich, dark walnut frame: Viscount Roarke Madison Alexander Havering VI, Viscount Tarkington, 1831 – 1857.
“Such a waste of masculine perfection,” she murmured. “How could anyone believe you capable of such an horrendous deed?”
“There is speculation, madam,” the curator stated interrupting her musings. “A female whom led the – for lack of a better word – witch hunt that condemned the Viscount to the gallows could possibly have saved him from his fate had she but come forward with the truth. The evidence must have been absolute as it was not common to hang the titled during that period.”
Carleigh blushed. She realized he had overheard her musings. “It’s said that no one could identify the lady who condemned him to his early death.”
“Documentation merely references a woman who presented irrefutable evidence. It is believed she was of nobility. A female had little impact on decisions during the Victorian era.”
Carleigh nodded. “Perhaps, being the rogue that the Viscount was purported to be, he scorned this woman and she merely sought revenge for being ruined.”
“Perhaps.” The curator paused as if pondering her words. “Well…now that you have viewed the portrait, it is time to go.”
Again, Carleigh fell into step behind the curator. Before leaving the room, something compelled her to turn back to the portrait. His eyes followed her, watching as she moved away. Her palms grew damp and the air around her sizzled. He called to her. She heard her name whispered in a deep, rich baritone that sent streamers of excitement through her. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled and gooseflesh scurried over her body. She stood silent, afraid to move. The pad of her fingertip rested against her lower lip. Carleigh recognized the pleasurable warmth sweep over her once more. Her lip tingled.
This is totally absurd! Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she turned on her heels. She strode out of the room, closing the distance between herself and the curator’s steady gait.
“Thank you for your time, sir. I am most appreciative.” She smiled at the older gentleman upon reaching the front doors, extending her hand to shake his gloved one. “I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”
“You are quite welcome, madam,” he spoke softly, hesitating before going on. “I hope you will forgive my lack of etiquette and return to view the entire collection. It is an intriguing tale revolving around the Viscount. I would be honored to share the story with you.”
“I’d love to return in a few days and perhaps examine the portrait a bit longer as well. I am residing at the Viscount’s former estate, Tarkington, and wish to spend several days exploring the mansion and grounds. I also need to visit Bow Street to gather whatever information may be archived there.”
“Good luck on your research. I look forward to assisting you again.”
* * * * *
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Into the Depths
EXCERPT
Carleigh walked closer to the painting. Awestruck at the exquisite detail devoted to the Viscount’s chiseled features, she couldn’t help but stare. An Adonis in his time, she thought.
She trembled with a peculiar coolness creeping down along her spine. A floating sensation engulfed her. Her body became restless, seeking…something. Her thoughts stumbled while trying to grasp a thought…a feeling. It was just out of her reach. Whatever it is, she thought.
Dark chestnut hair caressed his neck and teased the top of the broad shoulders that filled the width of the portrait.
His bronze skin glowed against the starched white cravat bunched around his throat. The Viscount’s chin and jawline were strong, prominent.
Carleigh’s intent study of the portrait revealed the faintest trace of a smile mounted on his small upper lip and the fuller lower one. An imperceptible, roguish smile, she thought. Amazing. She grinned.
Her gaze moved up casually taking in the straight line of his well-proportioned nose, which ended at a penetrating steel gray stare. Her breath caught in her throat. The glint of the sun flashing across a double-edged sword. Lethal. Severe. Full of fire. Carleigh studied the gaze focused on her finding a mix of arrogance and warmth encased by heavy dark lashes and brows. She exhaled.
Her eyes fell on the gold inscribed plaque mounted on the bottom of the rich, dark walnut frame: Viscount Roarke Madison Alexander Havering VI, Viscount Tarkington, 1831 – 1857.
“Such a waste of masculine perfection,” she murmured. “How could anyone believe you capable of such an horrendous deed?”
“There is speculation, madam,” the curator stated interrupting her musings. “A female whom led the – for lack of a better word – witch hunt that condemned the Viscount to the gallows could possibly have saved him from his fate had she but come forward with the truth. The evidence must have been absolute as it was not common to hang the titled during that period.”
Carleigh blushed. She realized he had overheard her musings. “It’s said that no one could identify the lady who condemned him to his early death.”
“Documentation merely references a woman who presented irrefutable evidence. It is believed she was of nobility. A female had little impact on decisions during the Victorian era.”
Carleigh nodded. “Perhaps, being the rogue that the Viscount was purported to be, he scorned this woman and she merely sought revenge for being ruined.”
“Perhaps.” The curator paused as if pondering her words. “Well…now that you have viewed the portrait, it is time to go.”
Again, Carleigh fell into step behind the curator. Before leaving the room, something compelled her to turn back to the portrait. His eyes followed her, watching as she moved away. Her palms grew damp and the air around her sizzled. He called to her. She heard her name whispered in a deep, rich baritone that sent streamers of excitement through her. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled and gooseflesh scurried over her body. She stood silent, afraid to move. The pad of her fingertip rested against her lower lip. Carleigh recognized the pleasurable warmth sweep over her once more. Her lip tingled.
This is totally absurd! Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she turned on her heels. She strode out of the room, closing the distance between herself and the curator’s steady gait.
“Thank you for your time, sir. I am most appreciative.” She smiled at the older gentleman upon reaching the front doors, extending her hand to shake his gloved one. “I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”
“You are quite welcome, madam,” he spoke softly, hesitating before going on. “I hope you will forgive my lack of etiquette and return to view the entire collection. It is an intriguing tale revolving around the Viscount. I would be honored to share the story with you.”
“I’d love to return in a few days and perhaps examine the portrait a bit longer as well. I am residing at the Viscount’s former estate, Tarkington, and wish to spend several days exploring the mansion and grounds. I also need to visit Bow Street to gather whatever information may be archived there.”
“Good luck on your research. I look forward to assisting you again.”
* * * * *
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