Erica Ridley's Blog, page 8
October 9, 2018
New Release: Once Upon a Duke
Twelve Dukes of Christmas #1: Once Upon a Duke!
Beware romantic spirits from Christmas past…
Due to the terms of an estranged relative’s will, the Duke of Silkridge must revisit the cold, unforgiving mountains where he lost everything he once loved. As soon as he restores his family legacy, he’ll return to London where he belongs. He definitely won’t rekindle the forbidden spark crackling between him and the irresistible spitfire he’d left behind…
Noelle Pratchett is immune to charming scoundrels like the arrogant duke. He stole her heart, stole a kiss, and then stole away one night never to return. Now he’s back—and they both know he won’t stay. But how can she maintain her icy shields when every heated glance melts her to her core?
The 12 Dukes of Christmas is a series of heartwarming Regency romps nestled in a picturesque snow-covered village. After all, nothing heats up a winter night quite like finding oneself in the arms of a duke!
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September 29, 2018
Meet the Heroine: Miss Noelle Pratchett
Enjoy an excerpt from the newest Twelve Dukes of Christmas romance,
Once Upon a Duke!
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He was back.
Noelle Pratchett gazed at the imposing, impossibly handsome gentleman before her in disbelief. For years, she had vowed that if she ever crossed paths with the Duke of Silkridge again, he deserved nothing less than the cut direct.
And yet she was rooted in place. Her knees were locked tight to keep from trembling and her traitorous eyes could not be distracted from his form.
Tall, intense, tightly controlled. It wasn’t just that his clothing had been perfectly tailored to his lean, muscular body. Every thread, every stitch had been selected with the same care and precision that ruled the rest of his life.
He was never well-dressed; he was perfectly dressed. Every fold of his cravat, a work of art. Every crease, starched and crisp. Every hair just so, with nary a tendril out of place. His jaw, smooth and clear of stubble.
He wasn’t a fashion plate come to life. The duke was no dandy. Rather, he was the very embodiment of rules and expectations. His hair, the perfect length. His waistcoat, the ideal pattern. His choices in color and style, muted but elegant. Timeless. As if an artist might paint his portrait at any moment.
And this magic, despite having just stepped inside from a long drive on a blustery day. Not even wrinkles would dare to mar the plans of the Duke of Silkridge.
He was not here for her, of course. For a while—a very short while—her naïve heart had once believed such a thing possible.
Back in those days, he was not yet a duke but rather Benjamin. Irresistible, despite the same haunted eyes and carefully controlled exterior. If it had not been for that one reckless kiss, she would not have believed passion capable of sneaking past his defenses.
At the time, she had been delighted. It was a fairy story. She, the penniless orphan. He, the handsome prince. What had begun as friendship had turned into so much more. He would not have kissed her otherwise. Surely this meant they had a future.
He had been horrified. They had no future at all. Indeed, the next morning he was in the first coach heading out of town. That was the last time she saw him.
Until now.
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September 22, 2018
Meet the Hero: The Duke of Silkridge
Enjoy an excerpt from the newest Twelve Dukes of Christmas romance,
Once Upon a Duke!
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Benjamin Ward, the fifth Duke of Silkridge, didn’t to mingle with the other guests in this godforsaken castle. He wanted a room for the night, he wanted his mother’s locket, and he wanted to be gone.
Before he could have any of these things however, he caught sight of golden blond hair and laughing brown eyes. Just like that, his world tilted on its axis.
Noelle was here. Right here.
His heart beat uncomfortably fast.
She looked both the same and yet somehow even better than before. Soft curves and gold-rimmed spectacles. Happy and smiling and beautiful. Surrounded by a group of equally cheerful friends.
He’d thought she would be gone. He’d hoped she would be gone.
So many years had passed since he’d last seen her. For the longest time, he had expected her to have a Season in the capitol, to take London by storm. Perhaps she had done so, and he had missed it. After all, he spent his days in the House of Lords and his nights in his study.
Perhaps she was now “Lady” or “Mrs.” and no longer the Miss Noelle Pratchett he remembered.
He didn’t want details, he reminded himself. Learning she’d found someone else would serve no purpose, and discovering she was still unwed would not signify. And yet he couldn’t help but gaze at her hungrily as she broke from her friends and made her way to the refreshment table, right in his direction.
The moment she caught sight of him, she pulled up short. All traces of laughter disappeared from her eyes. “Silkridge.”
“Miss Pratchett,” he replied, bracing himself for the inevitable correction.
It did not come.
“Five years,” she said instead.
“You look lovely,” he blurted out, and could have kicked himself. She did look lovely. He had not meant to notice, much less give any compliments.
She ignored it. Her lips pursed. “I thought I would never see you again.”
“So did I,” he admitted. He had missed her so much, those first few months.
After that, he had done his best to push her from his mind. One should not dwell upon things one could not have. Such as a rekindled romance.
Or forgiveness.
She crossed her arms beneath her bosom. “No doubt you’re here for the will.”
Ten o’clock on the morrow. He wouldn’t be a single moment late.
“I shall be gone before you know it,” he promised.
“No doubt.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You were last time, too.”
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September 8, 2018
August 25, 2018
Meet the Hero: Mr. Maxwell Gideon
Enjoy an excerpt from the newest Rogues to Riches romance,
Lord of Vice!
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Under normal circumstances, Max would not only have personally seen Schneider to the door, but also quit the Cloven Hoof himself.
This was the sole free day he allowed himself each week, and at this hour of the night he was running low on opportunity to do little more than catch a few hours’ sleep before beginning anew.
However, tonight something felt… wrong.
A missing candle, when his staff was trained too well and paid too handsomely to miss obvious necessities like candles. One of his books, not lined up perfectly with the others. His folding screen, butted up against the wall instead of how he normally angled it.
His carefully predictable world was different. Max hated inconsistencies, no matter how small. He would put things to rights and then he could return home in peace.
He drew out his key ring in order to retrieve a fresh candle from the supply cabinet across the corridor.
Once the taper was properly seated in the wall sconce, Max began to feel better. Things were almost back to normal. Back to how they should be.
He ran a careful finger along the spines of his books to nudge them into alignment, then stalked toward his folding screen in irritation.
Who the deuce would have placed it in the far corner, when his entire staff well knew that Max preferred—
He yanked the screen aside and froze in surprise.
Also frozen in surprise was the wide-eyed lad hiding on the other side.
After taking one look at whatever thunderous expression was currently storming through Max’s eyes, the lad blanched, flailed, and moved to flee.
Max was faster.
He allowed the screen to fall where it may in favor of grabbing the lad’s thin arm and jerking the intruder further from the exit. Off-balance, the lad tripped backward over Max’s feet and windmilled wildly in a desperate attempt to regain his balance.
Max reached out to intercept him before he cracked his foolish head against the edge of the mantel.
Before the interloper could make another attempt to flee, Max swung the wriggling lad away from the shadows and into the light.
Not a lad.
A woman.
Max nearly dropped her in shock.
In the space of a mere breath, his meticulously planned, carefully ordered world had spiraled far outside his wildest imaginings.
“Who are you?” he demanded without loosening his grip.
“Brian,” came the immediate gruff reply.
Max doubted that very much. “Miss Brian, is it?”
An impressively unladylike curse whispered from her lips. Her eyes did not flinch from his. She was still pale, but defiant, as if it were he who had disturbed her plans for the evening, rather than the other way about.
“Let’s try this again.” His voice was cold, authoritative. “Who are you?”
“Bryony,” she said at last. “Shall I address you as Maxwell or Mr. Gideon?”
Impertinent baggage. “Mr. Gideon. We are not going to be friends.”
“How do you know?”
Max stopped himself from pointing out that he knew everything that happened between these walls because, clearly, his streak of many years spent controlling and predicting every aspect of his life, his industry, and his surroundings had come to a shockingly abrupt standstill.
He tightened his hold. “Who are you?”
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August 11, 2018
Meet the Heroine: Miss Bryony Grenville
Enjoy an excerpt from the newest Rogues to Riches romance,
Lord of Vice!
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Disguised in lad’s clothing, Miss Bryony Grenville circled around to the rear of the Cloven Hoof and place her ear to the door.
It was silent.
She slid her key into the lock and twisted. The door unlocked with ease. She held her breath as she opened the door.
Nothing.
The coast was clear.
Ever since she’d become the Cloven Hoof’s anonymous investor, she’d studied the plans for the property, and could likely find her way about in the dark.
Nonetheless, she welcomed the moonlight streaking through a few high windows. It was impractical to bring a lit candle on a carriage ride, and she was glad to discover she could see—if dimly. She was standing at the rear of the long corridor that bisected the club’s interior.
She inched forward with caution.
The infamous Maxwell Gideon’s office was to her left, a supply room to the right. Once she cleared these, she came to a small area with chairs and tables on either side. According to her monthly reports, this area was designated for conversation, not gambling. After this section was the primary salon, which contained a bar, dozens of gaming tables in a large open area, and a handful of smaller tables for spectators along the edges.
This last bit, she had to trust more to her research than her eyes. Very little light snuck into the front salon, likely to protect the gamblers’ privacy from passers-by on the street outside.
A tenseness she hadn’t been willing to acknowledge disappeared from her shoulders.
No one was here.
She was safe.
With a sigh of relief, she turned her back on the gaming tables and retraced her steps to the rear office.
She’d known the club would be empty. Past trends had indicated this was the safest of all moments to attempt a reconnaissance mission. All the same, she was relieved to be proven right.
After all, she well knew her disguise wouldn’t pass muster in direct light, or if forced to hold a lengthy conversation. It was simply for getting about in the shadows. A protective shield from the night.
A lad alone never received so much as a second glance. A lady alone received far more than mere glances.
Bryony far preferred being the lad.
She unlocked the office door. Despite the utter blackness within, she locked the door tight behind her as soon as she stepped inside.
Although the plans of the building failed to indicate the location of candles and sconces, logic dictated that there must be one near the door for those entering or exiting the office. She retrieved the tinderbox from her pocket and struck the flint to the metal.
There. Quickly, she lit a taper and lifted the candle from its holder. She stared about her in wonder. This was the black heart of the ton’s most infamous den of iniquity?
A stately mahogany desk not dissimilar from her father’s stood just opposite. A decidedly non-devilish bookshelf covered the wall behind it. Then three comfortable chairs, one behind the desk and two in front for visitors. On the wall facing the alley, a small fireplace. Parallel to the other wall, a comfortable looking settee and an ornate folding curtain, presumably to hide a chamber pot from view.
Also absent from view: coal, brimstone, hellhounds, loose women, or gambling accoutrements of any type. Indeed, she could spy neither a decanter for port nor a tobacco pouch or snuffbox. Not even a token bit of clutter.
From this vantage point, one might be forgiven for believing that the Lord of Vice indulged in no vices whatsoever.
She edged closer to the pristine desk. Not only wasn’t a single paper out of place, there were no documents to rifle through at all. The desk was completely bare. She settled into Mr. Gideon’s chair and tried to imagine where he might hide secret information he didn’t wish for his landlord to see.
The desk drawer? Too obvious. But she jiggled the handle anyway.
“Locked,” she muttered under her breath.
Of course it was. Even if the drawer was empty, a man this slavishly organized would leave nothing to chance.
She let go of the drawer handle. Her keys only worked on doors, and forcing the drawer open would only leave proof of her presence. That was the last thing she needed.
Besides, who hid sensitive documents right where a spy would look for them? He was more likely to… carve a secret compartment inside a book.
She leapt to her feet and moved to inspect the bookshelf.
Samuel Johnson… Horace Walpole… Vindication of the Rights of Woman by Mary Wollstonecraft… Bryony blinked.
The idea of the powerful owner of an infamous vice den voluntarily reading female philosophies was so delightful that at first the distant voices down the corridor failed to register as anything more than background noise.
Voices.
Corridor.
Maxwell Gideon was here.
She leapt behind the folding screen just as strong footsteps reached the other side of the office door. Frantic, she blew out the candle and squeezed herself as tightly into the corner as possible.
As long as neither Mr. Gideon nor his guest peeked behind the screen, Bryony should be safe here in the shadows.
But if anyone did…
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July 15, 2018
8 Genius Romances
Who else loves a romance featuring a genius hero or heroine? Here are 8 for your reading pleasure!
Browse the full list: https://amzn.to/2Jm1hvS
To Beguile a Beast (Legend of the Four Soldiers series Book 3)
by Elizabeth Hoyt
The Duchess War (The Brothers Sinister Book 1)
by Courtney Milan
The Outcast (Scottish Lasses Book 0)
by Glynnis Campbell
At Any Price: (Adam & Mia) (Gaming The System)
by Brenna Aubrey
The Good, The Bad, And The Scandalous (The Heart of a Hero Book 7)
by Cora Lee
Charming the Professor: A Charm Gates Time-Travel Romance
by Donna MacMeans
The Viscount’s Christmas Temptation (Dukes of War Book 1)
by Erica Ridley
Violet (Chase Family Series: The Flowers Book 1)
by Lauren Royal
July 14, 2018
7 Gambling Romances
Who else loves a romance centering around a good gamble, wager, or bet? Here are 7 for your reading pleasure!
Browse the full list: https://amzn.to/2NMwZGl
Wagering For Miss Blake (Lords & Ladies in Love)
by Callie Hutton
The CEO Buys In (Wager of Hearts Book 1)
by Nancy Herkness
Lord of Pleasure (Rogues to Riches Book 2)
by Erica Ridley
A Rogue by Any Other Name (Rules of Scoundrels Book 1)
by Sarah MacLean
Then Came You (Gamblers Book 1)
by Lisa Kleypas
A Little Wild
by Kate St. James
Cat Haus: The Complete Story (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1)
by Cat Johnson and Carrie Lane
July 12, 2018
NEW in Historical Romance: JULY edition!
A roundup of some of July’s most-awaited historical romance releases! Enjoy dukes, lady spies, lairds, falconers, knights, professional seducers, bluestockings, LGBTQ heroes and heroines, royal guardsmen, steampunk, scandals, love triangles, reunion romances, and more! 
June 20, 2018
NEW in Historical Romance: JUNE edition!
A roundup of some of June’s most-awaited historical romance releases! Enjoy dukes, spinsters, highlanders, geologists, ranchers, knights, debutantes, revolutionaries and more!
