Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 353

The Skull Collector by Paris Singer

The Skull CollectorParis Singer
Genre: Dark Fantasy
Publisher: Booktrope/ Forsaken
Date of Publication: November 17th
ISBN: 978-1-51370-450-0
Number of pages: 134Word Count: 43029
Cover Artist: Yosbe Design
Book Description:
In a world in which children are exploited, monsters are saviors, and dark magic is constantly at play, a little girl will go to any lengths to be reunited with her lost ones.
After the disappearance of her parents, a heartbroken child is sold to the Doll-Maker who promises to revive them. In return, she is to travel from cemetery to cemetery, unearthing graves and collecting skulls.
While doing so, she must avoid the Violinist and his crows, who are determined to steal the skulls she has painstakingly gathered.
As she travels across the province, with her life in constant peril from vengeful policemen to furious villagers to strange creatures, the little girl must use her wits to succeed in her macabre mission. Chapter One
Our storybegins in the cradle of a littlegirl's anguish and despair, without which therewould be no tale to recount.On a dark, stormy night, like on many others, we find her wailing inconsolably under the warming caress of a street light by the side of a nameless, muddy road. She cries, for her parents mysteriously vanished not a week ago, leavingher utterly, miserablyalone.As was the way of things in the quiet province she inhabited, should one disappear without first declaring it to the town hall, by way of application, one's entire estate and contents would legally pass to the proper authorities. This instance being no different, the little girl's home had been seized immediatelyand locked threetimes by its new owners.Alone in the world, the little girl had looked to the police sergeant for help.“What is it?” he had barked.Fighting to hold back her tears, the little girl had mustered nothing more than, “...Please, sir,” as she’d clutched dearly to the only possession she had left: a stuffed bear once given to her by her mother on her birthday.The policesergeant had watchedher briefly then, with softeningeyes and a wry smile peering through his bushy moustache, he’d said, “I have a girl about your age.”He’d knelt down beside her and pattedthe damp hair on her shivering head a littletoo hard.Times being harsh for most and kindness deemed an ugly myth, there was no room for noble gestures or acts of compassion. This instance being no different, the police sergeant had suddenly snatched the little girl's teddy bear from her freezing fingers.“My daughterwill love this,she will,” he’d said, as he stood and walkedaway from her to the police cart. “Let's go, boys!”The sound of whipping cracked the air and the horses at once began to gallop, sending a thick spray of mud from the wheels flying all over the little girl.As tears flowed down her muddy, sodden cheeks, two glowing eyes emerged from the dark stillness of the night. Unblinking, they watched her a while, hanginglike tiny, yelloworbs.A moment later, the eyes began to etch closer and closer, until the shadowy figure of a thin man was revealed. His shabby attire was matched by an old cloth cap he wore on his head, which shrouded all facial features except his somewhat bulbous nose.“What 'ave we 'ere, then?” he enquired. “Why are you crying, lil' girl? Why all alone?” As he spoke, he seemed unawarethat he was rubbing his hands together.Her parents having taught her not to speak to strangers, the little girl felt hesitant about replying to him. As if reading her mind, the scrawny man said, “Oh, you can talk to me, lil' girl, I won't 'arm ya. I'm just a concerned ci'izen looking to 'elp ano'ver.”Wanting to believe in the inherent good in people, the little girl replied, “My...My parents are gone, and I have nowhere to go, sir.” At her final word, the little girl burst into tears once again, as if her statement had somehow made events as cold and real as stone.“Ooh, there, there,” said the man, drawing slowlycloser to her. “Don't you worry your lil' 'ead.Squidge is 'ere to 'elp. I just so 'appen to know someone who can 'elp ya, if you'll follow me.”The little girl hesitantly considered his words and came to the conclusion she had no other choice but to follow him.“That's my girl!” exclaimed the wiry man contently, as he offered her his hand to hold.As much as the little girl wanted to trust the wiry man, she felt uncomfortable with the idea of holding his hand, especially as the last one she had held had belonged to her mother, and she wanted to keep it that way.“Suit you'self, Love. Come this way,” he grinned.He led her into the cold darkness of empty streets to the tenebrous hollow of Midnight Forest,

known throughout the province to contain terriblethings beyond the mere imaginings of mortal beings. As such, a certain understanding was said to have been devised in times when magic and myths were created, that, should people refrain from crossing the boundary that led into the forest, no evil within would flow into the land of the living.That was what they believedand seemed to be contentwith.“...Isn't this the forest we are not supposed to go into?” asked the little girl, tentatively. “Oh, this? Nah, they's just superstitions, they is. Load of cod’s wallop, if you ask me!”The littlegirl walked as fast as she couldto keep up with the man's long, bandy legs, each stride of which like four of her own.“Come on! 'Is place isn't far—if you know where you're goin', that is. 'E doesn't like bein' disturbed, see?”Endlessly into the forest they seemed to walk, as wooden pillars, like ever-reaching fingers, twisted in around them at every step and enormous toadstools shielded them from the moon's gaze. As the little girl struggled to keep up, she tried not to focus on the strange crunching and squelching sounds underfoot, as she sliced her way through a dense sea of lightly blue fog.The furtherthey walked, the denser the forest appearedto be. Just as the little girl felt as though she would collapse from exhaustion, the man she followed came to a stop and announced,“'Ere we are!”Nearly walking straight into the back of his stringy legs, she felt a combination of relief and anxiety at the sight of what stood before her. An old, ramshackle structureappeared to barelystand, as the trees and brush coiled and climbed and covered most of its rusted corrugated walls; its roof was utterly smothered by a blanket of dead and dying leaves. Though the structure appeared dilapidated, it’s windows were whole and clean, a detail the little girl found quite odd. Beyond the windows, a flickering light somewherewithin made shadowsdance upon the walls and ceiling inside.The thin, shabby man suddenly turned with a wide grin and gleefully spoke. “This, lil' girl, is the Doll-Maker's workshop.”



About the Author:
Paris Singer was born in Brussels, Belgium. He has lived in the U.K. and in various places in Spain, where he currently resides. At university, he studied English law and Spanish law. He didn't like it. He then studied translation and didn't like it, either. Currently, he is an English teacher in the south of Spain. He has far too many interests, he's told, a few of which being sports, playing his old guitar, learning Japanese, painting, reading and cooking. Not a day goes by, however, where he doesn't write something, be it under a palm tree or on a bench at a bus stop somewhere.
Website: http://libertad79.wix.com/paris-singer
Twitter: @dakukarasu
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ShadowsOfPerception
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6434200.Paris_Singer


November 30 Guest BlogNya Reads http://nyareads.com
November 30 SpotlightLisa’s World of Bookswww.lisasworldofbooks.net
December 1 Spotlightfuonlyknewhttp://fuonlyknew.com/
December 1 Spotlightaobibliosphere™http://aobibliosphere.blogspot.com
December 2 SpotlightShare My Destinyhttp://sharemydestiny.blogspot.com
December 2 SpotlightMommabears Book Bloghttp://www.mommabearsbookblog.blogspot.com
December 3 Guest blogMarsha A Moorewww.MarshaAMoore.blogspot.com
December 3 InterviewRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com
December 4 SpotlightAround the World in Books  http://www.aroundtheworldinbooks.ca/
December 4 ReviewMythical Bookshttp://www.mythicalbooks.blogspot.ro/
December 7 SpotlightCBY Book Clubhttp://cbybookclub.blogspot.co.uk
December 8 Guest BlogFang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
December 9 Reviewaobibliosphere™http://aobibliosphere.blogspot.com
December 10 ReviewHorror Madehttp://horrormade.com
December 11 SpotlightGeeks In High Schoolhttp://www.geeksinhighschool.com
December 11 InterviewBooksChatter http://bookschatter.blogspot.co.uk/2015/12/tour-skull-collector.html
December 14 SpotlightPenny BroJacquiewww.pennybrojacquie.blogspot.com
December 14 ReviewRose’s Brainhttp://roseshababy.com/category/roses-brain/

Owned by Jaymie Holland

OwnedTattoos and LeatherJaymie Holland
Genre: Contemporary, BDSM, Menage (MFM)
Publisher: ARe BooksDate of Publication: 12/1/15
ISBN: 978-1-943576-50-0ASIN: TBA
Number of pages: TBAWord Count: 37,600
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill
Book Description:
It takes two Doms to heal one submissive’s heart.
After a bad experience with two Doms, Angel left the Lifestyle behind, but it didn’t completely leave her. The discovery of her roommate’s kinky predilections reminds her how much she misses the thrill and excitement of the power exchange, more so when she receives an invitation to an exclusive BDSM club.
Morgan and Asher like to keep their professional and personal lives separate; few people know of their activities at Decadence, a club for the kinky elite. From the moment they meet the intriguing and irresistible Angel, they are determined to possess her and show her pleasure like she’s never known before.
Aware of her history, Morgan and Asher intend to help Angel trust again, and show her that submitting to two trustworthy Doms can help heal her past. Angel may be willing to give her new Masters her body for play, but what about her heart?


Excerpt:
Asher pulled on a pair of snug leather pants as he thought about the brunette with the sage-green eyes who was as gorgeous as her namesake. Yes, Angel was beautiful in many ways.Faith had spoken with Terry earlier that morning about Angel. Terry was the third member of the partnership that owned Decadence and the front man who ran the place. Faith had called to vouch for Angel even though Terry had already met her.Terry was also a member of Spirits, although he most often went when Asher and Morgan weren’t there because their hours were different. However, even if the three were at the gentlemen’s club at the same time, Terry never joined Asher and Morgan because the trio needed to avoid any public affiliation due to the anonymity factor.The fact Asher and Morgan were well-known executives in the music industry, and owned a studio, made it necessary to keep their BDSM activities private.Music had been a part of their lives since the three were young and wild. Back in high school and college, Asher, Morgan, and Terry had been known to party to all hours, indulge in creative sexual activities, and were utterly unrepentant in whatever they did.Sometimes Asher missed those times, but his days were rich and fulfilled and he couldn’t complain one damned bit—with one exception. All that was missing was the perfect woman to complete his life.Whenever they had a chance, Asher and Morgan lounged with Terry in his office while they drank good Scotch and talked about music, politics, and women. Especially women. Terry knew from those conversations Asher was attracted to Angel, and it was clear Morgan was too. The stubborn ass just didn’t want to admit it.Considering his own desire for Angel, Asher wasn’t sure why he wanted Morgan to acknowledge his interest in her. After what Morgan had been through, he needed a good woman. Asher was certain that’s exactly what Angel was—a good woman. His own feelings about her had him at war with himself.Morgan… After what Dani had done to him…The bitch had changed him with what she’d done. Dani had not only used him to climb the music business ladder, but she had fucked one of their best friends from college.Morgan had been in love with her, and the way she’d used him and screwed the so-called friend, had really done a number on his view of the world.He’d grown angry and cynical since then. It hadn’t just been Dani. It had also been the betrayal of their former friend.Yes, Morgan needed to heal.Asher wanted a woman he’d love and grow old with one day.Whose need was more important?It was equal in Asher’s mind.Her warm heart, compassion, humor, intelligence—everything they’d gotten to know of her and about her. And just the fact that Asher felt it. His senses told him over and over, She’s the one.He contained the competiveness naturally growing inside him. Yes, he and Morgan both needed Angel. He knew deep in his gut she could fill holes in both their lives that no one else could.Was sharing the solution?


About the Author:
Cheyenne McCray, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, writes her steamiest novels as Jaymie Holland. Her books have received multiple awards, including three “RT Book Review Magazine’s Reviewer’s choice” awards and three nominations. Cheyenne has over 60 published novels and over 35 novellas in several genres. She’d love to hear from you!
For more information on other books by Jaymie, visit her website:http://www.JaymieHolland.com
https://www.facebook.com/CheyenneMcCraysPlace/
http://twitter.com/CheyenneMcCray
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/26738.Cheyenne_McCray

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Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: December 1, 2015
ASIN:   B014VCCLGI
Cover Artist:  Renee George
Boxed Set Description:
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Bear Winter (The Pack Rules 8)Michele Bardsley
After a vindictive wendigo nearly kills his brother and kidnaps his sister-in-law, bear shifter Gabe Pearson has no choice but to ask psychic and ex-fiance Hope Wheeler for help. Together, they will fight through vicious snowstorms, murderous shifters, and grievous emotional wounds to save Gabe's family--and get a second chance at love.
New York Times Best Selling Author,  Michele Bardsley
Raging Winter: Max Denton Book 2 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters)Colleen Gleason

England, 1922: Savina Eleaisa is certain the famous vampire hunter--and her former lover--Max Denton is dead. But when she follows a vampire to a Christmas house party at a large English estate, whom should she find but Max Denton, deep undercover--and not very happy to see her. "If Buffy visited Downton Abbey." --Laurie London
New York Times Best Selling Author,  Colleen Gleason
Tristan's Escape: A Belador NovellaDianna Love  
Holidays stink when you're alone, but the only woman Tristan ever cared for betrayed him years ago. Sucker that he is, Tristan teleports another Alterant to Atlanta in December to propose to his girlfriend, and walks straight into an ambush ...along with the woman he vowed would pay for his five years of imprisonment.  Now he has to choose between saving her and losing his freedom forever.
New York Times Best Selling Author,  Dianna Love
Christmas Flame (A Flame Series Book)Caris Roane
On Christmas Eve, vampire Officer Kyle Drake has finally persuaded the shy shifter, Verena, to go on a first date. His plans include a little mistletoe and a lot of seduction. But when a call comes in that a teenage girl has been abducted and Kyle and Verena go in pursuit, he fears the dangers of their world will once again force Verena back into her no-dating-ever mode...
New York Times Best Selling Author, Caris Roane
Invisible Betrayal: Invisible Recruits NovellaMary Buckham
Street savvy Jaylene Smart is spending her DC holiday on a snatch and grab assignment to terminate a threat, but it beats sitting alone in an empty hotel room. Her target is way-out-of-her-league-powerful Herm Kane and stealing from him sends her into the dangerous underworld of preternaturals she never knew existed.  Surviving will depend on teaming up the same sexy Herm Kane, the man she just betrayed.
USA Today Best Selling Author,  Mary Buckham
White WitchmasDakota Cassidy
It's Christmas in Paris, Texas, ya'll! Prepare for a magical journey perfect for the holidays!
USA Today Best Selling Author,  Dakota Cassidy

Nether BlueClaudy Conn
Magic has always been a part of Calico's life, but now because of it, she is on the run. Ahead, more danger. Enter Brodie, a prince from another realm. Will saving Brodie, trap her or save her?
New York Times Best Selling Author, Claudy Conn

Fur Ever YoursMelanie James
When a dangerous female shows up in the middle of the night, Rafe's world is turned upside down. Was she sent by a rival clan to rip apart his pack, or just his heart?
New York Times Best Selling Author,  Melanie James

Christmas With The BeastRebecca Hamilton & Conner Kressley
Christmas heats up for a Beauty and her Beast when they find themselves at the top of a homicidal Santa's naughty list.
USA Today Best Selling Author,  Rebecca Hamilton USA Today Best Selling Author,  Conner Kressley
Bite of Frost (A Dragon Blade Novella)Gena D. Lutz
After Jericha Frost is thrust into a paranormal existence she knows nothing about, she learns that the scorching blood from an infuriating dragon-shifter is her only hope of survival.
New York Times Best Selling Author,  Gena D. Lutz

Fang Chronicles: Esha's StoryD'Elen McClain

Vampire politics are not exactly what Rondy expects when he enters the dark world of immortality and killing a deadly, out of control tigershifter is not his idea of fun. When fate intercedes, Rondy and Esha fight her inevitable death and take the brief time they are given to search for a miracle that would topple the childless world of vampires.
USA Today Best Selling Author, D'Elen McClain
Her Dragon's No Angel (A Dragon Guard Novella)Julia Lake Mills
Take one snowbound dragon combine with one Christmas Angel, throw in a healthy dose of an attraction only the Universe could have conjured and top with the largest blizzard in a hundred years. Now sit back and enjoy the show! This one's gonna be a bumpy ride!
New York Times Best Selling Author,  Julia Mills
Winter GuardianDawn Montgomery
Ashley Baker never forgot the icy December night he came into her life. Her fallen guardian angel with wings dark as sin destroyed a beast from her worst nightmares, and then disappeared into the storm. When the beasts return, so does the guardian, but this time he's the one in trouble. Wingless. Mortal. The spark of attraction ignites into a flame that threatens to consume them both, but will it be enough to save them from the hell that awaits if they fail? 
USA Today Best Selling Author,  Dawn Montgomery
Dark Wolf RisingStephanie Rowe
Shifter Cash Burns has been on the run for ten years, hiding a dark secret. When his childhood sweetheart, who he hasn't seen in over a decade, is targeted for assassination by his wolf pack, he's the only one who can save her...but at what cost?
New York Times Best Selling Author,  Stephanie Rowe
Covert Cougar Christmas Terry Spear
Bridget Sinclair, Special Agent with the Cougar Special Forces Division has a mission--permanently stop two shifters from distributing a new drug in Cheyenne, Wyoming. While investigating, she rescues Special Agent Travis MacKay. Winter advisories are in effect for the Christmas holidays, but that doesn't cool off the sizzling heat spiraling out of control between the two agents as they covertly team up to take down the drug-runners.
USA Today Best Selling Author,  Terry Spear
Lori's Wolf Pack, Rolf's Wicked WinterA K Michaels
Rolf is Beta and has managed to escape the Pack for a couple of days 'alone time'. However, Fate has other plans for him and he soon finds himself in a situation he never envisaged. Finding a mate is surprise enough, but she is on the run, and those that are looking for her are only a day behind.
New York Times Best Selling Author,  A.K. Michaels
Legendary Lover - Arctic PlungeCandice Stauffer
Glorious friction sets Northern Alaska's winter air ablaze when Dean Lawless, an alpha lycan, finds Jayne Dekker, his double-crossing mate, and takes the ultimate plunge
New York Times Best Selling Author,  Candice Stauffer
Ravished by the Alpha: A Christmas Cull (The Cull Book Three)Renee George
Single by choice, werewolf Lizzy Langston has never been a fan of Christmas. But when Coy Vega chooses her tribe's lands to hide from the drug cartel over the holiday, she is drawn to his dark nature and, oh yeah, his yummy six-pack abs. It will take a Christmas miracle to survive below freezing temperatures, Colombian hit men, an accidental culling, and each other.
National Best Selling and Award-Winning Author,  Renee George
Bound by Joy (A Cauld Ane Christmas Novella)Tracey Jane Jackson
Kenna McFadden has waited more than two hundred years for her mate and she finds him in a most unexpected way. On a mission to find his missing niece, prince Gunnar Baldersson finds someone far more precious to him. Join in their bonding as they fall in love while celebrating the sweetness and joy of Christmas.
New York Times Best Selling Author,  Tracey Jane Jackson
ChoicesH.M. McQueen
An unbreakable bond with a handsome immortal Protector, drags Rachel Andrews into a world she never believed existed and has no desire to be part of.The actions of one night drastically alter the course of his long existence. Torn between his feelings for Rachel and his life's calling, Roderick Cronan comes face to face with the fact that he is losing both.
Amazon Best Selling Author, Hildie McQueen

Yule's Fallen AngelSky Purington
Sparks fly as a sexy fallen angel turned warlock tries to free a feisty witch trapped between life and death. But rekindling lost love comes at a price. Now it's time to beat the clock against a yuletide curse with a midnight deadline of December 25th.
Amazon Best Selling Author,  Sky Purington a Rafflecopter giveaway

December 1 Houston Havens http://houstonhavens.com
December 1 Marianne Willis Authorhttps://mariannewillisauthor.wordpress.com/
December 2 Angel’s Guilty Pleasureshttp://angelsguiltypleasures.com/
December 3 Diaries Of 2 Thick Chickshttp://diariesof2thickchicks.blogspot.com/
December 3 Once Untoldhttp://onceuntold.blogspot.com/
December 4 happy tails and tales (review)http://happytailsandtales.blogspot.com
December 7 I Smell Sheephttp://www.ismellsheep.com/
December 8 Fang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
December 8 Roxanne’s Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com
December 9 Eskimo Princess Book Reviewshttp://eskimoprincess.blogspot.com/
December 10 Penny For Them... (review)http://pennyforthemuk.com/Tour
December 10 Book-o-Crazehttp://book-o-craze.blogspot.gr/
December 11 Monlatable Book Reviewshttp://www.monlatablereviews.com/
December 14 Books That Hook (review)http://booksthathook.com
December 14 Share My Destinyhttp://sharemydestiny.blogspot.com
December 15 Fantatical Paranormal Romantical (review)http://fanaticalparanormalromantical.com/
December 15 Live Laugh and Love Bookswww.livelaughandlovebooks.wordpress.com
December 15 Erzabet’s Enchantments (review)http://erzabetsenchantments.blogspot.com/
December 15 Booklover Sue http://bookloversue.blogspot.com

Kinks in the Road Home by Roz Lee

Kinks in the Road HomeRoz Lee
Genre: Gay, Menage, BDSM
Publisher: ARe Books
Date of Publication: December 1, 2015
ISBN: 978-1-943576-53-1ASIN: TBA
Word Count: 37,500
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill
Book Description:
Though there be kinks, the road still leads to home.
Three years ago, Paul found Cameron beaten and clinging to life in a NYC alley. Determined to protect the man he loves, they move to a remote mountain retreat. Though Cam’s physical wounds have mostly healed, the past still has an emotional hold on them, preventing Paul the Dom and his slave from finding the third person they dream of to complete their family.
When Cam meets Matt, thoughts of a third person in his relationship with Paul resurface. His master isn’t pleased with Cam’s attraction to the other man, but the fact they’re talking about a third again is a sign they’re both ready to put the past behind them. The only thing left to do is see if Matt is the one.
Rejected by his family, Matt works at Bound to put himself through culinary school and make a life for himself. Intrigued by Cam and the life he leads as a sexual slave, Matt agrees to become their cook and housekeeper, while deep down he wants more.
Is there room in Paul’s heart for another slave?

Excerpt: Holy fuck! Matt fought to keep the truck’s speed under control as he drove away from Cam’s workshop, but there was no controlling his heart rate. What the fuck had Roger thought, sending him there?From the moment he’d laid eyes on Cam, he’d wanted him. Then fuck, he’d learned about the man’s lifestyle, seen the garden where he submitted to his Master, and lust had turned to envy. He’d give anything to be in Cam’s shoes. He hoped to God the man called him to model sometime. Despite coveting his lifestyle, Matt really did feel a connection with the artist, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Cam had been attracted to him, too.But he was a slave to another. Not that Matt wanted to be anyone’s Master. He didn’t have it in him to be dominant. Perhaps if he did he would have stood up to his dad all those years ago and told him what he thought of a man who would disown his own flesh and blood because of their sexual orientation. He hadn’t known he was submissive then, but looking back he saw the signs. When his father had held the door open and ordered him out, he hadn’t argued, hadn’t stood up for himself. He’d left with nothing but the clothes on his back. Thanks to Roger, Matt had done well for himself, but the sound of a door slamming still took him back to that day, reminding him of the terrified young man he’d been. After days of sleeping on the streets, turning tricks for enough money to eat, he’d met a guy who, after paying him for a fuck in the backseat of his Mercedes, had pointed Matt in the direction of a club where he said he might find work.He found much more than work. He’d found salvation and acceptance his own family had denied him from a stranger named Roger. The club owner had wanted nothing from him except an honest day’s work. In return, he’d given Matt his life back. After several months of cleaning the club during the daylight hours, he’d allowed Matt to observe the workings of the club at night. He’d gradually worked his way up to a Monitor position which paid well enough for him to enroll in culinary school during the day.Roger still joked about how little sleep Matt existed on during that time. Between classes, his job at Bound, and studying, he’d been lucky to get a nap in, much less a full night’s sleep.Those days were behind him. He had a decent job and a fair amount of free time to help Roger out. If he lived to be one hundred, he’d never be able to repay the man for what he’d done for him, but that didn’t make him any less angry for having had his dream life dangled in front of his face like a carrot on a stick. There, but so far out of his reach, he’d never have it.Fuck you, Roger.Matt backed the truck up to the loading dock behind ReBound. It was time to have a talk with his friend and mentor.


About the Author:
USA Today Best-Selling author Roz Lee is the author of twenty erotic romances. The first, The Lust Boat, was born of an idea acquired while on a Caribbean cruise with her family and soon blossomed into a five book series published by Red Sage. Following her love of baseball, she turned her attention to sexy athletes in tight pants, writing the critically acclaimed Mustangs Baseball series.Roz has been married to her best friend, and high school sweetheart, for over three decades. Roz and her husband have two grown daughters (and a new son-in-law) they couldn’t be more proud of.
Even though Roz has lived on both coasts, her heart lies in between, in Texas. A Texan by birth, she can trace her family back to the Republic of Texas. With roots that deep, she says, “You can’t ever really leave.”
When Roz isn’t writing, she’s reading, or traipsing around the country on one adventure or another. No trip is too small, no tourist trap too cheesy, and no road unworthy of travel.
For more information on other books by Roz, visit her website: www.rozlee.net.
http://www.rozlee.net/
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Download your Free December Issue of Bewitching Book Tours Magazine

Holiday features include: Alphas Unwrapped, Easy Ideas for a Merry Green Christmas by Wenona Napolitano​, The Jolly Elf by Roxanne Rhoads​, ReGift with Class by Wenona Napolitano, Holiday Flash Fiction A Sleigh Ride Home, Holiday Gifts for the Undead in Your Life by Kory M. Shrum​, and Top 10 Gifts for the Author in Your Life by Lisa Beth Darling​.

Other features this month: The Limits of the Imagination in Paranormal Romance by Sharon Buchbinder, Top Ten Time Travel Tales by Kevin B. Henry, Crestfall: A Novel of Earth and Fire by Lily St. John McKee, and Under the Gaze of the Basilisk by Laura Bickle​.

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Interview with Michael-Israel Jarvis

What inspired the premise for your story?
At first I just wanted to try writing something according to fantasy tropes, as a kind of writing exercise in genre tradition. So all I knew was that I would be starting with an uneducated, unassuming young hero, whose life would be transformed by some event or other—in this case, his introduction to a large, horned skirmisher-mage and an undead king. Of course, I couldn’t stick to the tropes entirely, in the end. It’s all been played about with, shifted, subverted. More fun that way.
Why is the setting to your story so important?
Well, at first it really wasn’t. I just had a blank canvas in mind; generic countryside, pre-crossbow time period. But these things have an organic life of their own—you start with just a village and a mountain and by the time you’ve finished the book you’ve got a landscape that feels varied and real and that makes itself important. The city, for instance. Nagyevo could have been a standard issue capital city, mixed stone and timber, walled defensively and so on. Which it is. But it’s the people and the politics and the culture that change it. The tavernas where people drink, illicit coffee-houses, philosophy conventions, the austere Observatory where the magi govern from… It’s important because you can’t have a hidden-identity, superhero type plot set somewhere rural. And some of my favourite chapters come from that section of the book.
When did you first consider yourself a “writer”?
When I was fifteen and I realized that the story I’d been working on for fun had hit 100,000 words and that I could already see the sequels in my mind’s eye.
How long did it take to get your first book published?
Well, first I self-published. That took me a few months; that can be a very quick process if you’ve got everything in place. With my publisher, Booktrope, the repub of Gravedigger took closer to six months—but for that additional time I gained a fantastic professional editor, the awesome book cover, and loads more. Well worth the wait.
What have you learned about the publishing industry since you’ve signed that first contract?
That it’s full of people who work very hard and that you need to work just as hard yourself. Effort-wise, there’s really nothing separating self-published authors from published ones—you’re still going to have to put in the time and attention to detail, albeit with the help of professionals. And you’re still expected to help sell your work, too. It’s pretty much the same, even in very large publishing houses.
What genres do you normally write in?
Fantasy, science-fantasy and alternative historical fantasy (historical fiction set in an alternate timeline.)
Is there a genre you haven’t written in that one day you’d like to tackle?
Historical fiction (without the fantasy, which would be hard for me) or maybe horror. I know some horror writers. They’re off-their-rockers insane, but good people and badass with it.
What was the first book you ever published? 
That would be this one, Gravedigger! That was self-published then. I did the cover and everything. After that, I published the first book that I ever wrote (heavily revised from when I finished it as a sixteen year old) which is called Land Rising. Then Osric Fingerbone and the Boy Murderer, my alt Victorian dark fantasy novel. It’s possibly my favourite. Both of those are still available on Amazon in their self-published forms, but they will eventually be replaced by proper republished editions through Booktrope. Making those older ones even rarer. Collectors’ editions! Hint.
What was the craziest thing you’ve ever done when it came to a storyline in your book?
Depends how you define crazy. I guess making the undead morally ambiguous, using what is basically a sentient zombie as one of my main characters? That’s kind of crazy. And then there’s what happens at the end of the book… 

GravediggerMichael-Israel Jarvis
Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: Booktrope
Date of Publication: 31st October 2015
ISBN: 1513703102ASIN: B0175IDQDW
Number of pages: 304Word Count: 115,747
Cover Artist: Amalia Chitulescu
Book Description:
Dead or alive. Good or evil. Hero or fugitive.
Valo needs a specific solution to a grave problem. The human Claimfold and prigon Torzsi draw apart. War is promised in the West. Worst of all, the magi of Nagyevo are meddling with the dead.
Perin is an apprentice Gravedigger: uneducated, unwanted, unsure. He may be the answer Valo needs, if he doesn't get killed before he works out what's going on. But of course there's the chance that fate hasn't called him after all. The gods are nameless and silent and the best laid plans have a way of going badly wrong.Enter the spade and sorcery world of Valo.
Gravedigger subverts the expectations of that oldest of foes in fantasy, the dead that walk, in a fast-paced adventure through a world of culture, intrigue, magic and blood.
Amazon     BN

About the Author:
Michael-Israel Jarvis was born in Cambridge, brought up in Bishop's Stortford and moved to Great Yarmouth in his teens. He got his degree in Creative Writing at the University of Northampton and returned to Great Yarmouth with his wife, Katie.
Michael-Israel writes principally for Young Adults, which is what he intends to be until he's very, very old. Further explorations of the genres he prefers to write in throw up fantasy, adventure, coming of age stories and more. If possible, he prefers to write in a way that bends the distinction between different genres. Why shouldn't the superhero trope take place within a fantasy novel? And however serious a book is, shouldn't humour weave its way in?
Michael-Israel chose to go the route of Independent Publishing after observing the increase in sales of eBooks and a move towards indie expression in general culture. In early 2015, after self-publishing three books through Amazon, Michael-Israel was accepted by Booktrope Publishing, an international publishing company with a unique model.
Booktrope offered the expertise and structure he needed (much like a traditional publisher) but also offered a system with far more creative control and better royalties, as well as a system of cooperation at the heart of the professional team. This was the perfect middle ground that Michael-Israel had been dreaming of, and he was delighted to sign with them to republish his previously independent work.
"Gravedigger" republished on 31st October 2015, with both "Osric Fingerbone and the Boy Murderer" and "Land Rising" to be republished within the following months.
Sequels to all will follow.
www.michaelisraeljarvis.com
www.facebook/michael.israel.jarvis
@JarvisAuthor

December 7 InterviewFang-tastic Bookswww.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com
December 8 Spotlight T's Stuff  http://teresanoel.blogspot.com/
December 9 Guest blogMarsha A Moorewww.MarshaAMoore.blogspot.com
December 10 SpotlightPenny Writeshttp://pennybrojacquie.blogspot.com/
December 11 InterviewBraytons Briefs www.stephenbrayton.wordpress.com
December 14 Spotlight Zenny's Awesome Book Reviewshttps://zennysawesomebookreviews.wordpress.com/
December 15 SpotlightLisa’s World of Bookswww.lisasworldofbooks.com
December 17 Spotlight Sapphyria's Book Reviewshttp://saphsbookblog.blogspot.com
December 18 ReviewI Smell Sheephttp://www.ismellsheep.com/
December 21 SpotlightCBY Book Clubhttp://cbybookclub.blogspot.co.uk
December 21 Guest BlogRoxanne’s Realmwww.roxannerhoads.com 

Music for the Muse- Musical Inspiration for Ghosts of Kingston Cottage by Libby Bishop

Music to My Muse
I tend to write to music—each book has a soundtrack. Ghosts of Kingston Cottage surprised me by changing up its soundtrack during the editing process before I submitted it. In 2013, when I first wrote the book and it was published through Entangled Publishing, the songs were instrumentals off movie soundtracks. Not one song had lyrics. When the rights reverted back to me this past summer and I was going through it, I was shocked to find that almost all of the songs playing while I edited and revised had lyrics. Normally, the songs don’t change, but apparently the Muse and me felt differently this time around :)
Here are the songs that played the most for Ghosts of Kingston Cottage:
Fire in the Water, Feist. This song was playing when Arabella and Lucas kiss during the thunderstorm.
The Rose, Bette Midler. This song is Arabella’s theme song for most of the book.
Hot Stuff, Donna Summer. As funny as I found this one, it was the first song that came to mind when Arabella first lays eyes on Lucas :)
The Way You Look Tonight, Frank Sinatra. Apparently, Lucas is a big Sinatra fan LOL And, even though he doesn’t have a POV in this book, this song is on Lucas’ mind every time he sees Arabella.
Your Light, Ellie Goulding. This is Arabella’s and Lucas’s song at the end of the book.
Breathless, The Corrs. Because that’s how Lucas leaves Arabella a good deal of the time :)
Bubbly, Colbie Caillat. A song at the end of the book.
Hymn to the Sea, James Horner (off the Titanic soundtrack). This instrumental song is a reflection of the love story between the ghosts in the book, Katie and Seamus. I cried the first time I wrote to it, and still cry during their scenes in the book.
And there you have it—the most important songs on the playlist for the book. Tell me, do you like to listen to soundtracks? What are some of your favorites?




Ghosts of Kingston CottageRevenant InvestigationsBook OneLibby Bishop
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Mystery
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Date of Publication: November 13, 2015
ASIN: B017Y1ZD72
Number of pages: 85Word Count: 25,335
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Book Description:
Medium and paranormal investigator Arabella Pierce is sent with her crew to Kingston Cottage, a haunted Maine seafarer’s cottage on an isolated island. For this investigation, her boss has stuck them with skeptical reporter Lucas Brown. Though he’s hot as they come, Arabella can’t trust a man whose sole job is to discredit her and the work she does. Not after what happened with the last few skeptics…
All Lucas may want is the truth, but that doesn't change her feelings towards him. And when the ghosts appear, she and Lucas must work together—in tight quarters—to convince the resident ghosts to move on before a storm strands the entire crew on the island. Can Arabella put aside her prejudices long enough to see what the ghosts are trying to tell her? And if she does, will she and Lucas have a shot at a lifetime?
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/kqBRTzessns
Amazon    Evernight Publishing    ARe    Bookstrand
Excerpt:
“And what investigation are we doing? You didn’t say.” “Kingston Cottage.” Arabella stared at him, shocked. “Are you serious?” He nodded. “The owners contacted me last week, and informed me they need to sell the house as soon as possible. They want to put it on the market this month, due to personal reasons. In order to do that, they need to know what’s inside … and how to get rid of it.” “No one has ever been allowed to investigate it…” she trailed off in awe. Folger smiled. “Until now.” She couldn’t help but return his smile. The feeling of a fresh, no-one-else-has-done-it kind of hunt was too much of a thrill to pass up. Historic Kingston Cottage was located on a small island, all by itself, and had been rumored to be haunted since before Arabella was born. She had seen pictures and taken boat rides past the island, but she’d never set foot on the private property. “When do we have to be at the docks?” she inquired as she stood, grabbing her coat off the back of the chair.“Seven o’clock tomorrow morning. Don’t be late. Dustin is taking you over. But, Arabella—” She looked at him, knowing that tone. “It’s just going to be you, the reporter, Nick, and Lena. I need the rest of the crew on a different hunt.” She paused at the door. Nick was one of their tech guys, and Lena was a lead investigator, like Arabella. Five more investigators rounded off the team. But the more she thought about Folger’s decision to use a small crew, the more it made sense, especially within the limited space of the cottage. “Nick and Lena,” she began, “do they know about the … ‘reporter’?” Folger rolled his eyes, clearly hearing the quotation marks in her tone. “Yes. I asked them not to speak of it until I talked to you myself. I think that was best, don’t you?” Arabella chose to ignore the rolling eyes. “And the reporter?” “He’ll be there at seven sharp as well. His name’s Lucas Brown, and he’s a serious reporter.” She nodded slowly, not really believing him. “I’ll check in when we get there.” “Please do, and be sure to pack extra clothes. You know how storms brew up suddenly here. I don’t want you all stranded without necessities. The owners left you some food. Expect to be on the island at least three days, maybe four. Oh, and there’s also a generator in the basement if you lose power.” “Good to know, and it was nice of them to leave some food.” “Yes. They’re good people.” She found it a bit strange that the crew wasn’t going to meet the owners before the investigation, and stranger still that she had never met them. Noble was a small town along the central Maine coast—it was pretty rare not to put a name to a face. “Oh, and Arabella,” Folger called as she left his office. “Try not to push him into the bay.”


About the Author:
Libby Bishop is a paranormal romance/erotic romance author.
She loves reading, movies, Lindt dark chocolate, autumn, the SyFy Channel (Haven and Bitten!), and spending time with friends and family. She has one fat, fluffy cat who thinks she’s queen of the house…and really, she is.
She also writer dark fantasy/horror under the name October Weeks.
Website: https://libbybishopromance.wordpress.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LibbyBRomance
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/libbybishopromance
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/octoberlibby/
Instagram: https://instagram.com/octoberlibby/
Tumblr: http://octoberweeks.tumblr.com/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7300574.Libby_Bishop

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Kevin Henry Would Love to Have Dinner With....

This is still my favorite blog I’ve ever written. I like updating it on every tour I do. Here is the latest update:
Who would you invite to a dinner party if you had the choice? Here's my list of the guests for my Writers Dinner. Mark your calendar, men. I'm sure the invites will be going out soon.

Joss Whedon  (50) - Writer. Director, Producer. His current credits include The Avengers andAvengers: Age of Ultron, two of the biggest movies. Ever. Past credits include Buffy and Firefly among others. He is a third generation writer for TV and the movies. What more do I need to say? Amazing awesome.

J. Michael  Straczynski  (60) - Writer and producer. Pulled together Babylon 5 continuity despite some vast corporate adversity. Has done comics, animation, all the good stuff. (Who ya gonna call? The Real Ghost Busters cartoon!)

Steven Moffat  (53) - Writer and producer. Currently head writer for Doctor Who and has been involved with the new incarnation since it's restart in 2005. He wrote the scripts for the movie The Adventures of  Tin Tin and is responsible for the BBC show Sherlock. And don't forget, he's Scottish. The accent alone will be worth having him over for dinner.

If Mr. Moffat is not available I'd pick  Russell T. Davies  (52) - Former head writer for Doctor Who and was deeply involved with the series Torchwood.  He's Welsh, so he might like some of my obscure references. Maybe not.

N. John Smith  - I'd love to have someone involved in the StarGate series, another well-crafted series, on the list. Smith was the one with the longest tenure so I picked him.
Jim Butcher (43). He is my current (living) author-hero. I'd like to ask him questions about The Dresden Files being made into a TV series, although there was only one season of that television series. . I'd like to talk about his feelings of the changes that were made to his original concept. It certainly was not the same look and feel as any of his books.

If Mr. Butcher isn't available I'd pick  Gregory Widen  - He sold a story that was made into the movie Highlander. Then the concept went viral before that was even a legitimate term. It spawned additional movies and a television series, none of which he wrote or was involved with that I could see. I’d ask the same sort of questions about the changes to his ideas.

Who did I forget? I'm sure there are plenty, but for now this will be a good start. Besides, I'm not sure where I could host that many people, especially if they all bring wives, girls friends or guests. (My guest would be romance writer  Samantha Lucas . You should check her out!)

Amber LegacyAmber Gifts SeriesBook 3Kevin B Henry
Genre: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Time Travel
Publisher:Champagne Books, Burst
Date of Publication: November 03, 2015
ISBN: 978-1-77155-209-7
Number of pages:  78Word Count: 25,000
Cover Artist: Ellie Smith
Tag line: A simple research project goes horribly wrong once murder and time travel get involved.
Book Description:
Mitchell and Crystin are living on the west coast of Florida in the Seventies. He has the beginnings of a loving family and couldn't be happier. It’s remarkable how quickly things can change. Perhaps the fate of a Teithwyr Amser is to never be stable, never find love without defending it against the rest of the world, against evil and against the fabric of time itself.
A simple TV documentary will spin Mitchell out of control as he first attempts to prove the filmmakers wrong and then ultimately find and protect his new family from a monster of his own creating.
Available at Amazon
Excerpt:
Part of me was like some detached, immature schoolboy. I was the hero, bound for adventure and looking for the infamous villain with hope of making all things right and returning to the hearth fires of my home, victorious. I was Robert Downey Jr. playing Sherlock Holmes. I was John Wayne playing almost any role. Hell, I was David Tennant playing The Doctor.The problem was, I wasn’t playing, and if I wasn’t real damn careful I was going to end up playing John Wayne in The Cowboys or even worse, William Shatner in Generations. God, please make my death scene more interesting and meaningful than that. These thoughts poured through my brain as I walked across the street.By the time I reached the opposite side I exuded cool, matter of fact demeanor and displayed no heroics. Simple confidence was my copilot. Caution was my mantra. I had an almost-wife and a beautiful baby girl to return to.I took a winding path that led me to Commercial Road. The darkness was all engulfing. More than half the lampposts were not functioning. It cast every turn, every alleyway, every alcove in total blackness. I walked cautiously but without any appearance of trepidation. I did not want to appear an easy target.Women of questionable morality approached and quickly departed. I was polite, but firm in my refusals. There was certainly no questioning their hygiene or their state of inebriation. A very high percentage of the female residents of Whitechapel turned to prostitution. Most began as a way to make a living, but as they turned more and more to alcohol to erase their memories, the act became more about the next drink and less about the money. Most could be had for the cost of a shot of gin, about fifty cents.The first victim, Polly, went out one last time the evening of her death because she thought she looked exceptionally well. She had a new bonnet. She had no teeth, but the hat made all the difference, I’m sure.I found the cut off that led south from Commercial Road and made the turn. Less than a block down this street was the Socialist Club and adjoining the club was a small open courtyard. As I walked toward the club entrance, I heard a sound I can only call a muffled gurgle. I sprinted the rest of the way to the courtyard opening. There, lying on the ground was Elizabeth Stride. Kneeling beside her was the one and only, Jack the Ripper. He was nothing I had ever expected.The man stood as I came to a halt at the courtyard opening. He was much shorter than I would have expected. I had envisioned a mixture of Vincent Price, Frank Langella, in his early films and just a hint of Malcolm McDowell, again from his younger days. This Ripper was none of those.As I mentioned, he was not tall, perhaps five foot six, no more than five foot seven. He was portly. That is the only word I can use to describe him. While his clothes fit well, they could not conceal his amble midsection, nor his arms and hands, which I can only describe as doughy.His face surprised me the most. I had expected to see an angry, scared, possibly deformed individual. Jack’s face was almost angelic. It was round, and I would swear it appeared to have baby fat in the cheeks.His eyes were sharp, clear and a grey color. He was perfectly clean-shaven, his light-colored hair trimmed short and well groomed, perhaps with lard, since styling mousse would not arrive for many years. I would have expected to see him in a cathedral pulpit or perhaps in a bank, not hunched over the fresh corpse of an unlucky prostitute.

About the Author:
From an early age, Kevin B. Henry was a voracious reader. His collection of science fiction, fantasy and mystery books bring tears of envy to the eyes of many small community libraries.
Kevin has worked as an educator, technology specialist and day laborer most of his adult life. During all that time he lived the life of a frustrated author. That it took 30 years for him to piece together the series, Amber Gifts is a testament that the best meals need slow cooking to bring out the flavor.
The Amber Gifts Series begins with Amber Gifts. The second story, which is really the first, is Amber Prelude, and is available now. The third story, Amber Legacy continues where Amber Gifts left off. It will be available in November 2015. All are published by the wonderful folks at the Champagne Book Group. A fourth story is in the process of being written.
Kevin is a natural story teller, so it’s logical that he lectures occasionally. Topics range from the implementation of cutting edge technology hardware to the creation, modification and use of e-books within education. He constantly pursues research to expand his range of possible topics. His most recent research revolved around the aerodynamic properties of reindeer. He’s also been known to include little known facts and trivia within his presentations. Did you know just 146 years ago today the Union Army marched into Atlanta. It took longer than anticipated. They were delayed by a traffic jam on I-75 and the toll booth on Ga. 400
He continues to live in the Mid-West without human or domesticated mammal companionship.
Amber Gifts Series: www.ambergifts.blogspot.com
Champagne Books www.champagnebooks.com
Twitter:        @Kevin_Henry
Facebook (Amber Gifts)  www.facebook.com/AmberGifts

Bewitching Book Tours Sale

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Scheduled Before December 15
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One Tempting Proposal by Christy Carlyle

One Tempting ProposalAn Accidental Heirs NovelChristy Carlyle
Genre: Historical Romance
Publisher: Avon Impulse
On-Sale: 11/17/2015 |ISBN: 9780062428011
Becoming engaged? Simple. Resisting temptation? Impossible
Sebastian Fennick, the newest Duke of Wrexford, prefers the straightforwardness of mathematics to romantic nonsense. When he meets Lady Katherine Adderly at the first ball of the season, he finds her as alluring as she is disagreeable. His title may now require him to marry, but Sebastian can’t think of anyone less fit to be his wife, even if he can’t get her out of his mind.
After five seasons of snubbing suitors and making small talk, Lady Kitty has seen all the ton has to offer…and she’s not impressed. But when Kitty’s overbearing father demands she must marry before her beloved younger sister can, she proposes a plan to the handsome duke. Kitty’s schemes always seem to backfire, but she knows this one can’t go wrong. After all, she’s not the least bit tempted by Sebastian, is she?
HarperCollins    Amazon    BN
Google Play     iBooks
Add it On Goodreads
Chapter 2Cambridgeshire, May, 1891
Slashing the air with a sword was doing nothing to improve Sebastian Fennick’s mood. As he thrust, the needle-thin foil bending and arching through the air and sending tingling reverberations along his hand, he glared across at his opponent, though he doubted she could see any better than he could from behind the tight mesh of her fencing mask.His sister parried before offering a spot-on riposte of her own, her foil bowing in a perfect semicircle as she struck him.“Are you making any sort of effort at all?”Seb bit back the reply burning the tip of his tongue. Fencing was the least of his concerns. In the last month he’d learned of the death of a cousin he’d barely known and inherited the responsibility for one dukedom, three thousand acres of land, hundreds of tenants, twenty-eight staff members, one London residence, and a country house with so many rooms, he was still counting. He could find no competitive pleasure in wielding a lightweight foil when his mind brimmed with repairs, meetings, investments, and invitations to social events that spanned the rest of the calendar year.And all of it was nothing to the bit of paper in his waistcoat pocket, separated by two layers of fabric from the scar on his chest, dual reminders of what a fool he’d been, how one woman’s lies nearly ended his life.He wouldn’t open her letter. Instead, he’d take pleasure in burning the damn thing.Never again. Never would he allow himself to be manipulated as he had been in the past. He had to put the past from his mind altogether.Fencing wasn’t doing the trick. Give him a proper sword and let him dash it against a tree trunk. Better yet, give him a dragon to slay. That might do quite nicely, but this dance of lunges and feints only made his irritation bubble over.Yet his sister didn’t deserve his ire, and he’d no wish to stifle her enthusiasm for the newest of her myriad interests.“I fear fencing and I do not suit, Pippa.” As she returned to en garde position, preparing for another strike, Seb hastened to add, “Nor shall we ever.”Pippa sagged in disappointment when he reached up to remove his fencing mask. “I’d hoped you might find it invigorating. A pleasant challenge.”In truth, his mathematical mind found the precision of the sport appealing, and the physical exertion was refreshing. But when he’d inherited the dukedom of Wrexford, Seb left his mathematics career at Cambridge behind. And weren’t there a dozen tasks he should be attending to rather than waving a flexible bit of steel about at his sister?“Invigorating, yes. Challenging, absolutely. Pleasant? No.”When he began removing his gloves and unbuttoning the fencing jacket Pippa insisted he purchase, she raised a hand to stop him.“Wait. We must do this properly.” She approached and offered him her hand as if they were merely fellow sportsmen rather than siblings. “Politeness is an essential element of fencing.”Seb cleared his throat, infused his baritone with gravitas, and shook his younger sister’s hand. “Well done, Miss Fennick.”She’d tucked her fencing mask under her sword arm and met his gaze with eyes the same unique shade as their father’s. Along with her dark hair and whiskey brown eyes, Pippa had inherited their patriarch’s love for mathematics and sporting activity of every kind.“Fine effort, Your Grace.” And father’s compassion too, apparently.Pippa smiled at him, her disappointment well-hidden or forgotten, and Seb returned the expression. Then her words, the sound of his honorific at the end, settled in his mind. Your Grace. It still sounded odd to his ears.Seb and his sister had been raised for academic pursuits, children of a mathematician father and a mother with as many accomplishments as her daughter now boasted. Formality, titles, rules—none of it came naturally. The title of Duke of Wrexford had passed to him, but it still rankled and itched, as ill-fitting as the imprisoning fencing mask he’d been relieved to remove.As they exited the corner of the second ballroom Pippa had set out as her fencing strip, she turned one of her inquisitive glances on him.“Perhaps you’d prefer boxing, like Grandfather.” Their grandfather had been as well known for his love of pugilism as his architectural designs, and had reputedly been one of Gentleman Jackson’s best pupils.Taller and broader than many of his classmates, Seb had engaged in his own share of scuffles in youth, and he’d been tempted to settle a few gentlemanly disagreements with his fists, but he never enjoyed fighting with his body as much as sparring with his intellect. Reason. Logic. Those were the weapons a man should bring to a dispute.“Unless you’re like Oliver and can’t abide the sight of blood.”It seemed his sister still sparred. Standing on the threshold of Sebastian’s study, Oliver Treadwell lifted his hands, settled them on his hips, and heaved a frustrated sigh.“I did consider medical school, Pip. I can bear the sight of blood better than most.” Ollie’s eyes widened as he scanned the two of them. “What in heaven’s name is that awful getup you two are wearing?”Seb didn’t know if it was his lack of enthusiasm for fencing or Ollie’s jibe about their costumes that set her off, but the shock of seeing Pippa lift her foil, breaking a key point of protocol she’d been quite insistent upon—“Never lift a sword when your opponent is unmasked”—blunted the amusement of watching Ollie rear back like a frightened pony.“Fencing costumes,” she explained through clenched teeth. “I tried instructing Sebastian, though he says the sport doesn’t suit him.” She hadn’t actually touched Ollie with the tip of her foil and quickly lowered it to her side, but the movement failed to ease the tension between them.Turning back to Seb, she forced an even expression. “I’ll go up and change for luncheon.” She offered Ollie a curt nod as she passed him, her wide fencing skirt fluttering around her ankles. At the door, she grasped the frame and turned back. “And don’t call me Pip. No one calls me that anymore.”“Goodness. When did she begin loathing me?” Ollie watched the doorway where Pippa exited as if she might reappear to answer his query. “Women are terribly inscrutable, aren’t they?”Seb thought the entire matter disturbingly clear, but he suspected Pippa would deny her infatuation with Oliver as heatedly as Ollie would argue against the claim. They’d been friends since childhood, and Ollie had been an unofficial member of the Fennick family from the day he’d lost his parents at twelve years old. Seb wasn’t certain when Pippa began viewing Ollie less as a brotherly friend and more as a man worthy of her admiration.As much as he loved him, Seb secretly prayed his sister’s interest in the young buck would wane. Treadwell had never been the steadiest of fellows, particularly when it came to matters of the heart, and Seb would never allow anyone to hurt Pippa.“Welcome to Roxbury.” He practiced the words as he spoke them, hoping the oddness of playing host in another man’s home would eventually diminish.“Thank you. It is grand, is it not? Had you ever visited before?”“Once, as a young child. I expected it to be less imposing when I saw it again as a man.” It hadn’t been. Not a whit. Upon arriving thirty days prior, he’d stood on the threshold a moment with his mouth agape before taking a step inside.Seb caught Ollie staring at the ceiling, an extraordinary web of plastered fan-vaulting meant to echo the design in the nave of an abbey the late duke had visited in Bath. Every aspect of Roxbury had been designed with care, and yet to match the whims of each successive duke and duchess. Somehow its hodgepodge of architectural styles blended into a harmonious and impressive whole.“You mentioned an urgent matter. Trouble in London?” A few years older than his friend, Seb worried about Ollie with the same ever-present paternal concern he felt for his sister.After trying his hand at philosophy, chemistry, and medicine, Ollie had decided to pursue law and currently studied at the Inner Temple with high hopes of being called to the bar and becoming a barrister within the year.“No, all is well, but those words don’t begin to describe my bliss.”Bowing his head, Sebastian closed his eyes a moment and drew in a long breath, expanding his chest as far as the confines of his fencing jacket would allow. It had to be a woman. Another woman. Seb had never known a man as eager to be enamored. Unfortunately, the mysteries of love couldn’t be bound within the elegance of a mathematical equation. If they could, Ollie’s equation would be a simple one. Woman plus beauty equals infatuation. If Ollie’s interest in this woman or that ever bloomed into constancy, Seb could rally a bit happiness for his friend.Constancy. An image of black hair came to mind with a piercing pain above his brow. How could he advocate that Ollie learn constancy when his own stubborn heart brought him nothing but misery?“Tell me about her.”Ollie’s face lit with pleasure. “She’s an angel.”The last had been “a goddess” and Seb mentally calculated where each designation might rank in the heavenly hierarchy.“With golden hair and sapphire eyes …” Ollie’s loves were always described in the same terms one might use when speaking of a precious relic Mr. Petrie had dug up in Egypt, each of them carved in alabaster, gilded, and bejeweled.“Slow down, Ollie. Let’s start with her name.”“Hattie. Harriet, though she says she dislikes Harriet. I think it’s lovely. Isn’t it a beautiful name, really?”Too preoccupied with unbuttoning himself from his fencing gear, Sebastian didn’t bother offering a response. Ollie rarely had any trouble rambling on without acknowledgment.“She’s the daughter of a marquess. Clayborne. Perhaps you know him.”Seb arched both brows and Ollie smiled. “Yes, I know. You’ve only been a duke for the space of a month. Don’t they introduce you to all of the other aristocrats straight away, then?”A chuckle rumbled up in Seb’s chest, and for a moment the burdens that had piled up since the last duke’s passing slipped away. He laughed with Ollie as they had when they were simpler men, younger, less distracted with love or responsibilities. Seb felt lighter, and he held a smile so long his cheeks began to ache before the laughter ebbed and he addressed the serious matter of Oliver’s pursuit of a marquess’s daughter.“I think the better question is whether you’ve met Harriet’s father. What are your intentions toward this young woman?”Ollie ducked his chin and deflated into a chair. “Goodness, Bash, you sound a bit like you’re Hattie’s father.”Only Ollie called him Bash, claiming he’d earned it for defending him in a fight with a particularly truculent classmate. The nickname reminded him of all their shared battles as children, but if Ollie thought its use would soften him or make him retreat, he was wrong. Ollie needed someone to challenge him, to curb his tendency to rush in without considering the consequences. If he lost interest in this young woman as he had with all the others, a breach-of-promise suit brought by a marquess could ruin Ollie’s burgeoning legal career.“I intend to marry her.”“May I ask how long you’ve been acquainted with the young lady?” Mercy, he did sound like a father. As the eldest, he’d always led the way, and with the loss of their parents, Seb had taken on a parental role with his sister too. Pippa might wish to marry one day, and it was his duty to ensure any prospective groom wasn’t a complete and utter reprobate.“Not all of us fall in love with our childhood friend.” The barb had no doubt been meant to bring Seb’s past heartbreak to mind, but Seb thought of Pippa. Thankfully, she hadn’t heard Ollie’s declaration.“Indeed. I would merely advise you to take more time and court Lord Clayborne’s daughter properly. Her father will expect no less.”Even with a properly drawn-out courtship, a marquess would be unlikely to allow his daughter to marry a man who’d yet to become a barrister and may not succeed once he had.“I must offer for her now. Soon. She’s coming out this season, and I couldn’t bear for another man to snatch her up.”“You make her sound like a filly at market.”“Will you come to London and meet her? I know you’ll approve of the match once you’ve met her.”Seb had already given into the necessity of spending the season in London at Wrexford House. Pippa had no interest in anything in London aside from the Reading Room at the British Museum, but their aristocratic aunt, Lady Stamford, insisted he give his sister a proper coming out. She’d also reminded him that a new duke should meet and be met by others in their slice of society.“You hardly need my approval, Ollie.”“I need more than that.”If he meant money, Seb could help. Cousin Geoffrey and his steward maintained the estate well over the years, investing wisely and spending with restraint. Sebastian had met with the estate’s steward once since arriving at Roxbury and emphasized his desire to match his predecessor’s good fiscal sense.“We should discuss a settlement of some kind.”Waving away Seb’s words, Ollie stood and strode to the window, looking out on one of Roxbury’s gardens, perfectly manicured and daubed with color by the first blooms of spring.Oliver Treadwell had never been a hard man to read. Seb knew him to be intelligent, but he used none of his cleverness for artifice. A changeable man, Ollie blew hot and cold with his passions, but he expressed himself honestly. Now Seb sensed something more. Another emotion undercut the giddiness he’d expressed about his most recent heart’s desire.His friend seemed to fall into contemplation of the scenery and Sebastian stood to approach, curious about what had drawn Ollie’s attention. The sound of Ollie’s voice stopped him short, the timbre strangely plaintive, almost childlike.“She says her father won’t allow her to marry until her older sister does. Some strange rule he’s devised to make Harriet miserable.”It sounded like an unreasonable expectation to Sebastian. At two and twenty, Pippa found contentment in pursuing her studies and political causes. She’d indicated no desire to take any man’s name. Never mind the way she looked at Oliver. If they had a younger sister, the girl might have a long wait to wed if some ridiculous rule required Pippa to do so first. Then again, not all women were as reticent to marry as Pippa.“Does this elder sister have any prospects?”Ollie’s whole body jolted at Seb’s question and he turned on him, smile wide, blue eyes glittering.“She has more suitors than she can manage, but she’s not easily snared. I assure you she’s just as beautiful as Hattie, with golden hair …”“Yes, yes. Eyes of emerald or sapphire or amethyst.”Oliver tugged on his ear, a frown marring his enthusiastic expression. “Well, she is lovely. Truly. You should meet her.”A sickening heaviness sank in his gut at the realization of Oliver’s real purpose for their urgent meeting.“You’re very determined to convince me, Oliver.”Ollie sighed wearily, a long gusty exhale, before sinking down into a chair again. “You only call me Oliver when you’re cross. Won’t you hear me out?”Sebastian had a habit of counting. Assigning numbers to the objects and incidents in his life gave him a satisfying sense of order and control. Not quite as much satisfaction as conquering a maddening equation, but enough to make the incidents he couldn’t control—like the small matter of inheriting a title and a home large enough to house a hundred—more bearable.He wished he’d counted how many times he’d heard those same words—“Won’t you hear me out?”—from Ollie. Whatever the number, it would certainly be high enough to warn him off listening to the man’s mad schemes again.“All right, Ollie. Have it out then.”“Do you never consider finding yourself a wife?”“No.”“You must.”“Must I? Why? I have quite enough to occupy me.”Ollie took on a pensive air and squinted his left eye. “The estate seems to be in good order, and you’ve given up your post at the university. Pippa has her own pursuits.” He glanced again at the high ceiling over their heads. “Won’t you be lonely in these grand, empty rooms, Bash?”Sentiment? That was how Ollie meant to convince him? Seb had put away sentimentality ten years before, dividing off that part of himself so that he could move forward with the rest of his life. If its power still held any sway, he would have opened the letter in his waistcoat pocket the day it arrived.“I will manage, Ollie.”And how would a woman solve anything? In Seb’s experience, women either wreaked havoc on a man’s life, or filled it with noise and color and clever quips, like his mother and sister. Either option would allay loneliness, but he did not suffer from that affliction. Sentimental men were lonely. Not him. Even if he did live in a house with ceilings so tall his voice echoed when he chattered to himself.He narrowed his eyes at Ollie, and his friend sat up in his chair, squared his shoulders, and tipped his chin to stare at Seb directly.“She’s the eldest daughter of a marquess, Bash, and much more aware of the rules of etiquette among the wealthy and titled than you are.”“Then we won’t have much in common.”Ollie groaned. “She would be a fine partner, a formidable ally in this new life you’ve taken on.”“No.”Denial came easily, and he denounced Ollie’s mad implication that the two of them should marry sisters from the same family. But reason, that damnable voice in his head that sounded like his father, contradicted him.At two and thirty, he’d reached an age for matrimony, and with inherited property and a title came the duty to produce an heir. No one wanted Roxbury and the Wrexford dukedom to pass to another distant cousin. If he had any doubts about his need for a wife, he was surrounded by women who’d happily remind him. His aunt, Lady Stamford, had sent a letter he’d found waiting for him the day he’d arrived at Roxbury suggesting that marriage was as much his duty as managing the estate. Pippa also dropped hints now and then that having a sister-in-law would be very nice indeed.Ollie had yet to multiply the bride-taking encouragement, but he was making a fine effort at rectifying the oversight.“Acquiring a dukedom is a vast undertaking.” Ollie stretched out his arms wide to emphasize the vastness of it all. “Why not have a lovely woman by your side in such an endeavor?”“I didn’t acquire it, Oliver. It passed to me.” He loathed his habit of stating the obvious.A lovely woman by his side. The notion brought a pang, equal parts stifled desire and memory-soaked dread. He’d imagined it once, making plans and envisioning the life he’d create with the woman he loved. But that was all sentiment and it had been smashed, its pieces left in the past. Now practicality dictated his choices. He spared emotion only for his family, for Pippa and Ollie.Ollie watched him like a convicted man awaiting his sentence.His friend’s practical argument held some appeal. A marquess’s daughter would know how to navigate the social whirl, and Seb liked the notion of not devoting all of his own energy to tackling that challenge. He might even find a moment to spare for mathematics, rather than having to forfeit his life’s work entirely to take on the duties of a dukedom.And it would give Ollie a chance at happiness. Perhaps this younger daughter of Lord Clayborne’s would be the woman to inspire constancy in Ollie, and Seb might assist his friend to achieve the family and stability he’d lost in childhood.Seb spoke on an exhaled sigh. “I suppose I do need a wife.” And there he went stating the obvious again.Oliver turned into a ten-year-old boy before his eyes, as giddy as a pup. If the man had a tail, he’d be wagging it furiously. He jumped up and reached out to clasp Seb on the shoulder.“Just meet Lady Katherine, Seb. See if you suit. That’s all I ask.” It wasn’t quite all he asked, but Seb had learned the futility of quibbling with a giddy Oliver.A marquess’s daughter? Lady Katherine sounded like just the sort of woman a duke should seek to marry. Seb could contemplate marriage as a practical matter, but nothing more.Would he ever feel more?He hadn’t allowed himself an ounce of interest in a woman in ten years, not in a lush feminine figure, nor in a pair of fine eyes, not even in the heady mix of a woman’s unique scent under the notes of some floral essence.“I think you’ll enjoy London during the season.” Ollie couldn’t manage sincerity when uttering the declaration. His mouth quivered and he blinked one eye as if he’d just caught an irritating bit of dust.Seb doubted he’d enjoy London during the crush of the social season. As a Cambridge man raised in a modest home in the university’s shadow, he’d enjoyed occasional jaunts to London but had always been content to return to his studies. As he opened his mouth to say as much to Ollie, Pippa strode into the room and drew their attention to the doorway.She’d changed into one of the day dresses their aunt insisted she choose for the upcoming season, though Pippa signaled her disdain for the flouncy yellow creation by swiping down the ruffles that kept popping up on her chest and around her shoulders.“Luncheon is laid in the morning room. Are you joining us, Oliver?”Ollie stared wide-eyed at Pippa a moment and then turned to Seb.“We’re almost finished here,” Seb assured her. “Ollie and I will join you momentarily.”She nodded but offered the still speechless Ollie a sharp glance before departing.After a moment, Ollie found his voice. “I’ve never seen her so …”“Irritated?”“Feminine.”Seb took a turn glaring at Ollie. The man had just been thrilled at the prospect of a match with Lady Harriet. He had no business noticing Pippa’s femininity, especially after failing to do so for over a dozen years.“She chose a few new dresses.” Seb cleared his throat to draw Ollie’s attention.“It’s odd,” Ollie said, his face still pinched in confusion. “I’ve known Pippa most of my life and never truly thought of her as a woman.”His friend’s words put Seb’s mind at ease, but he suspected Pippa wouldn’t find them nearly as heartening.“Ollie, let’s return to the matter at hand.”“Yes, of course.” Ollie rubbed his hands together and grinned, the matter of Pippa quickly forgotten. “Will you come to the Clayborne ball and meet Lady Katherine?”“I will.” Meeting the woman seemed a simple prospect. Practical. Reasonable. A perfectly logical decision in the circumstances.“If you’re still planning on presenting Pippa this season, by all means, bring her along too,” Ollie added. “Why leave her to ramble this house alone?”Pippa preferred to spend her days at Cambridge where she’d been studying mathematics for much of the previous year. Yet Seb felt the pull of his aunt’s assertion. His sister should have a London season, or at least spend some time among London society. He wished to open as many doors for Pippa as he could. Give her choices and options. If his title meant his sister might be more comfortably settled in life, all the better.“She’s not convinced of the appeal of a London season.” Seb worried neither of them was equipped for it either. Gowns and finely tailored clothing aside, they didn’t possess the aristocratic polish others would expect of a duke and his sister.Ever undaunted, Ollie grinned. “Then you must convince her.”Seb lifted his gaze to the ceiling, following the tracery, lines in perfect symmetry, equidistant and equal in length, forming a perfect whole. The geometric beauty of the design melted a bit of the tension in his shoulders. Still, he doubted the propriety of allowing his sister to attend a ball when she’d not yet formally come out. And, most importantly, he feared Pippa was unprepared for the sort of attention she would encounter in London.Pippa unprepared? She’d fence him into a corner for even entertaining the notion.“Very well. We’ll both attend, but I make no promises regarding Lady Katherine.”He’d accept the invitation in order to give Pippa her first glimpse of a proper London ball, meet this marquess’s daughter, and do what he could to assist Ollie’s cause. But marrying Lady Katherine was another matter entirely. He’d only ever intended to marry one woman and that had gone so spectacularly pear-shaped, he wasn’t certain he could bring himself to propose ever again.

About the Author:
Fueled by Pacific Northwest coffee and inspired by multiple viewings of every British costume drama she can get her hands on, Christy Carlyle writes sensual historical romance set in the Victorian era. She loves heroes who struggle against all odds and heroines who are ahead of their time. A former teacher with a degree in history, she finds there’s nothing better than being able to combine her love of the past with a die-hard belief in happy endings.
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