Tag Archives: Rocking Summer Romances

Worth the Risk (Rocking Summer Romances) by Lyn O’Farrell

WorththeRisk_200

Children’s librarian Amanda Lloyd values privacy above all else. Three years ago her wedding ended in disaster when her groom was arrested at the altar and the story of the ‘Embezzler’s Bride’ appeared in the supermarket tabloids. The experience has left her determined to avoid being caught in the public eye again. Until she meets a sexy single dad with a scandalous past.

Ex-racer Mitch Delaney is a public figure whose life has been plastered across the tabloids more than once. But he believes that anything worth doing is worth a risk. After the death of his ex-wife, he moved to Southern California to take care of his son Josh. He doesn’t need the complication of a woman in his life, especially since Josh’s grandparents have filed suit for custody. But Josh is on the hunt for a new mother and he has his heart set on Miss Amanda, and Mitch can’t fault his son’s taste.

Against her better judgment, Amanda finds herself falling for both of the Delaney men. When she agrees to accompany Mitch to a high-profile movie premiere, they draw the attention of the tabloids. Overnight Amand’a private affair becomes very public, threatening her job and Mitch’s custody suit. She’s waited twenty-eight years for the right man. But will happiness come at too high a price?

(Previously published as Private Affair, Kensington Precious Gem #121. Also: Golden Heart Finalist, Short Contemporary category)

*

His head was nestled in her lap. Amanda gently smoothed back the hair that had tumbled into his eyes. He sighed contentedly and gazed at her with soulful blue eyes.

“You really are a love,” she murmured. “I can’t imagine why I was ever nervous around you.”

The living room was quiet now, except for the soft crackling of the fire. Shadows played on the walls as the flames danced in the fireplace. Dinner was over, the kitchen cleaned up, and Josh was upstairs asleep. It was the first really relaxing moment Amanda had had all day.

“Is that mutt bothering you?” Mitch asked as he stepped into the room.

“No, we’ve been getting acquainted.” She smiled and scratched Albert behind the ears. He looked up at her adoringly. Then, as if aware that three was a crowd, he sauntered over to the fireplace and flopped down with a large sigh.

“Never thought I’d actually be jealous of a dog,” Mitch muttered, sitting down on the couch next to her.

Amanda laughed. “But he’s the sweetest thing.”

Mitch murmured his agreement, then said, “You’re sweet, too.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“For tutoring Josh, I mean,” he said quickly.

“There’s nothing sweet about that. I expect to be paid the going rate for my efforts.”

“You will be,” he assured her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “In fact, there may even be a bonus in it.” He leaned closer, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“What kind of a bonus did you have in mind?” Amanda knew she shouldn’t have asked when his look changed to one of desire.

Pulling her closer, he rubbed his thumb along her lower lip and her lips parted instinctively. She looked deeply into his eyes and saw a new tenderness she hadn’t seen before. Her body ached in anticipation as he continued caressing her mouth and gazing at her from hooded eyes that promised a world of pleasure in their blue depths.

 *

The final novel this month in the Rocking Summer Romances series, this is the only book I’m proposing that’s been co-written. Lyn O’Farrell is in fact Anne Farrell and Linda McLaughlin, putting their heads together. Taking the risk. I can’t imagine what it’s like to co-author a novel, and when I’m reading this one, I catch myself asking who’s contributing what. Can’t find any obvious seams, can you? Then maybe I should get back to the story as a story, and enjoy! The twosome aren’t taking any risks as far as the law’s concerned, which is why this sample’s more PG than erotic. Only one way to find out how hot they really get:

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Can’t help wondering, though: are you two a couple in any other sense as well???

Tempered Joy (Rocking Summer Romances) by Pamela Thibodeaux

tempered Joy

All around rodeo cowboy and heir to the Rockin’ H Ranch, Ace Harris is determined not to fall in love. He’s only loved one woman in his life, his mother, and no one can even come close to filling her boots. Lexie Morgan thinks rodeo cowboys have rocks for brains and a death wish for a soul. A broken childhood and the death of her father and best friend leave her doubting and questioning God (despite her years of religious upbringing) and afraid of love. Can two young people who clash from the onset learn to trust in the healing power of God and find love and happiness amidst tragedy and grief?

 *

Her eyes narrowed when he took a step closer. “Ace,” she warned and wielded the brush like a lethal weapon.

Raising his hands where she could see them, he watched her try to brush some semblance of order to the thick mass of unruly auburn hair. The simple chore made him want to sink both fists in the silken locks and gave him a whole new insight to the word erotic.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkled vivid green and spewed wrath. She glared at him as though the tangled tresses were his fault alone. Her chest quivered with each breath she took. He took another step closer and could feel her tremble. Locking his gaze with hers in the mirror, he reached around her and picked up a bandanna off the dresser. He ran it through his fingers in what could have been a caress then slid the cloth beneath her hair and left it trailing over her shoulders.

With hands that shook, Lexie pulled the ends together and tied her hair back into a ponytail. Those bright gray eyes had gone soft and warm, like liquid metal. Mouth dry as dust, she swallowed hard.

 

*

 

The familiar question in a new frock: can we change? An author I know once said: if we knew the outcome of a novel from the start there’d be no need to read the bloody book, would there!

 

New question(s):

i. Is change always development?

ii. Is development always synonymous with learning?

iii. Does change come from the inside or the outside?

iv. Is God essentially an inside or outside affair???

 

Take a maturational view of change/development/learning, then you’d go for ‘inside’. Take a catalytic view, on the other hand, you’re more likely to go for ‘outside’. I guess. I’ve heard people talk about ‘readiness’ for change, just as I’ve heard others talk about being ‘vulnerable’ to change. Also had to think long and hard about one account of change as the attempt of a complex organism to be more successful in its environment. See, I’m not some blockhead just because I choose not to speak as though I’ve got a broom up me arse. I think, seriously I do, about these terms: change… growth… vulnerability… success… throwing them into the basket with God…

And then of course you’ve got all the He-ing and She-ing between Ace and Lexie, with us readers eager to anticipate their moves. Keep changing my mind about whether or not love is over-rated…

So many ways to take this story, lick it clean, if you see what I mean. If a bloke like me who left school at fourteen can see all of that in a mere paragraph or two, don’t tell me this book won’t be worth your while.

 

Tempered Joy, by Pamela Thibodeaux

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CFO’s Affair (Rocking Summer Romances) by Tina Gayle

CFO Affair

Sylvia is a woman who has allowed life to beat her down. After the sudden death of her husband and the shock of discovering his secret, she reclaims herself by losing weight, then daring to try something new.

 

*

The door clicked open.

Wrapping his hand around the handle to keep from reaching for her, Vince Wilshire shoved the door wide. “Are you ready for this?”

Her face mere inches from his, he noticed a brief flash of panic in her eyes before Sylvia Donovan lifted her chin and stepped through the entrance. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Or probably won’t see again.”

He understood she meant the task of doing a job, but for some reason his brain registered the sexual implications of the comment. “Oh, man, you’re brutal. Some things you know get better with age.”

Matching his steps to hers, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and leaned in close. He whispered beside her ear, “It’s all a matter of knowing how to use what you’ve got.”

She shrugged and shifted away from him, eyeing him with a raised brow. “Yes and some people are amateurs, Mr. Wilshire. You, I take it, are an old pro who knows how to wield your sword with the best of them.”

Laughter bubbled up into his throat. He marveled at her sassy tone and didn’t relinquish his grip. “I must admit I’m very good at a few chosen tasks.”

 

CFO’s Affair by Tina Gayle

 *

 

– How long did it take to write the book, Tina?

– Six months.

– Got a writing routine? Did you need to do any research?

– I work eight to ten hours a day. My writing schedule is to write three to four hours at the beginning of the day. Then I log onto the internet and write up blogs, twits, handle marketing demands and check email. In the afternoon, I return to my writing and edit my manuscript. The main research I did for the book involved blood types .

– What would you say’s the main thing you’re offering readers in CFO’s Affair?

-The joy of letting go of the past and moving on to the future.

– Speaking from experience (wink wink!)?

– I am. From a different context, but yes, I’m speaking from experience.

 

Lori’s Redemption (Rocking Summer Romances) by Pamela Thibodeaux

Loris Redemption

Lori Strickland has always been known as her father’s “wild child” with no desire to change until she meets ex-bull-rider-turned-preacher Rafe Judson. Her attempts to change her wanton ways come to naught until she realizes redemption only comes with true repentance.

*

 

Lori headed toward Recluse, Wyoming after another round of rodeos where the cash and prizes vaulted her to the next level of achievement. She hadn’t thought of Rafe in months. Hadn’t allowed herself to think of him, and wouldn’t indulge in useless fantasies now.

She’d made peace with the fact she was nothing more than a bad seed and there was no way around it. Oh she tried to be good. She stayed out of the bars for weeks on end, attended the prayer services before or after each rodeo when available, even visited with a group of supposedly devout believers who traveled a state-wide circuit within the national itinerary, but nothing seemed to help or make an impact on her life. Nor had she found the support she’d hoped for, only judgment and criticism. Answers to her questions only incited debates until she was scorned for her doubt and unbelief or shunned completely. Maverick was right when he said there was no in between and since she couldn’t succeed at being good, Lori figured she’d be bad.

Just as she had all of her life.

More than once she thought about calling Stanley or Amber or even Lexie for counsel, but was too ashamed to admit the total mess her life was in. She even considered quitting. Just give up and go home. But she was too close to making pro status, too close to the culmination of the dream that began in her heart nearly four years ago.

A dream she once thought came as a directive from God.

Now, she knew better.

God didn’t give success to losers; the devil lured them into it then left them to their own devices no matter how hard they tried to be good. Besides, even at her best, there was no way she’d ever be good enough for a preacher.

 *

 

Goodness gracious: there are enough teases in there to keep me up all night, thinking. ‘There’s no in between’. I disagree. It’s all the smart Alecs convinced they’re on the right side of the fence, all that smugness and condemning that puts me off that lot in the first place. It’s faith, right? Not knowledge. You don’t know a thing. Lori’s full of doubt, but man oh man, she’s got guts. Doubt and fear: don’t mix them up.  Then: no way round being a bad seed? If she really believed that, why bother trying to be(come) good? Why try out-cunning your nature? I mean; if humans were not open, even susceptible, to change, then why the hell travel all around the globe meddling with other people’s cultures and mindsets with the promise to convert ‘bad’ seed to good?

God won’t give success to losers? Hang on: what was that about the first being last and vice versa? Is there a verse or two ripped out of the Bible I was given for my  Communion?

Me, I like my women ‘wild’. The only men who don’t are those who’re not up to scratch. Dinner party once. This loud-mouthed, pompous git to my right condescended to say: ‘my wife’s not the romantic type’. She shot straight back: ‘not with you, darling, but you’ll be astonished just how romantic I can be with a real man between my thighs’. Not a peep from him for the rest of the evening. And I gave her leg a squeeze under the tablecloth whilst the clattering of cutlery covered up the scene for a second or two. Don’t think they’re together any more.

Don’t know why women turn to the church. Don’t know what they can get out of it. Can’t imagine anything worse than being a vicar’s wife. More goodness than can ever be healthy for you. Having said that, I knew one who would beat his wife. Didn’t stop him from trying to correct us sinners from his pulpit. Strick (as in Strickland, as in Lori Strickland, our heroine) means noose in German. Just in passing.

I trust Pamela Thibodeaux to not let churchiness get the better of her heroine. I trust her to get closer to the truth. I can’t know, but I believe! (sorry, couldn’t resist that one!)

 

Lori’s Redemption, by Pamela Thibodeaux. Available at:

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Rogue’s Hostage (Rocking Summer Romances) by Linda McLaughlin

RoguesHostage_2001

His hostage…

In 1758 the Pennsylvania frontier is wild, primitive and dangerous, where safety often lies at the end of a gun. Mara Dupré’s life crumbles when a French and Indian war party attacks her cabin, kills her husband, and takes her captive. Marching through the wilderness strengthens her resolve to flee, but she doesn’t count on her captor teaching her the meaning of courage and the tempting call of desire.

Her destiny…

French lieutenant Jacques Corbeau’s desire for his captive threatens what little honor he has left. But when Mara desperately offers herself to him in exchange for her freedom, he finds the strength to refuse and reclaims his lost self-respect. As the shadows of his past catch up to him, Jacques realizes that Mara, despite the odds, is the one true key to reclaiming his soul and banishing his past misdeeds forever.

 *

 

Holding the towel to his shoulder, he walked over and stood by the bed to check on the woman, who was still in a faint. Despite her pallor, he noted that her skin was fine, her nose straight and thin. She had a lower lip just full enough to entice a man to taste it, and a stubborn chin that dared him to try. Under different circumstances….

She was perhaps not as lovely as he’d thought when he first saw her standing in the clearing—her hair, the color of corn silk, shining in the sunlight. Still, she was tall and fair, with slender curves and shapely ankles visible beneath the short skirts of a farm wife.

And now she was a widow. He stared down at the woman and silently vowed to see that no more innocents died today.

The woman gave a soft moan and opened her eyes. When she spotted him, she shrank back against the wall, arms folded defensively across her breast. His gut tightened. He didn’t enjoy terrifying women, but fear should make her easier to control. She had already proven unpredictable.

Terror, stark and vivid, glittered in her eyes. “Who are you?”

“My name is Jacques Corbeau, lieutenant in the army of France. And you are my captive.”

* * *

Mara inhaled sharply, panic building inside her. This couldn’t be real. It was all a bad dream. She would wake up soon and tell Emile about it, and they would laugh. And laugh and laugh and… She swallowed the hysteria engulfing her.

“Madame, are you listening to me?”

The Frenchman’s voice, sharp and insistent, demanded her attention. “There is not much time. My companions are not patient men. We must leave soon, but first I want you to bind my shoulder. Where do you keep bandages?”

Her mouth and throat were dry when she swallowed, but she choked out an answer. “The trunk. Under the bed.”

He squatted beside the bed, pulled out the trunk and rummaged through it. She watched his every move, unable to take her eyes off him, alarmed by the physical threat he represented.

He was a tall man who dominated the cabin as Emile never had, and his state of undress revealed nearly every inch of his lean and powerful form. Not only was he bare to the waist, but his breechclout and leggings failed to completely cover his thighs and buttocks. He had a wide-shouldered, rangy body and long, sinewy legs. He looked strong, virile, and infinitely dangerous.

A cold knot formed in Mara’s stomach. The French had killed her father and now her husband. What would they do to her?

She wrapped her arms around her waist. Her grandfather would say whatever happened was God’s will, but she rejected that idea. What kind of God allowed such awful things to happen?

Fearfully, she watched as the Frenchman shoved the trunk back under the bed and stood. He held out the bandages, and she froze. She couldn’t touch him, she just couldn’t.

The man’s heavy black brows drew together in a fierce frown, but his voice was without emotion. “Madame, I am all that stands between you and the men who killed your husband. I can be persuaded to act as your protector. It is to your advantage to do what I command.”

 

(Previously published by Amber Quill Press)

 

*

Fear should make her easier to control… How’s that for a fine definition of society, 1758 and beyond! She covers up her breasts, but of course she must know that by putting her hands there in the first place that’s precisely where his gaze will follow. Me? I’m a buttock man. I don’t care about your boobs; big boobs are for slobs anyway. Know a lot of guys go for blondes. I’ve had my fair share myself, but given a choice; redheads. Bet you didn’t know that women taste differently depending on the (natural) colour of their hair. That’s a fact Jacques Corbeau will or won’t find out, depending on how experienced he is. What else? And what could be the misdeed that’s had him on the run from himself till then? Wouldn’t be fair if I gave too much away…

 

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The Visionary (Rocking Summer Romances) by Pamela Thibodeaux

Pamela S. Thibodeaux. Inspirational with an edge. Love the twist she gives to faith by taking passion into account. Like it so much, in fact, that I couldn’t get enough of her. I’ll be sharing three of her works with you as part of Rocking Summer Romances blog hop. First work: The Visionary. I’ll kindly ignore that close-up on the cover which makes me think of Jehovah Witnesses; smiley happy people who always:

  • turn up as a twin pack 
  • seem to have the better arguments up their sleeve

Give Pam a chance; don’t jump to conclusions. Now I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: me and the church? Tricky. With more like Pam around, things’d be better. More honest. Maybe ‘twist’ is the wrong word for what Pam does. More like: straightening out. More like:

noluckwiththefu@…: Sex is God-given, ladies!

flow.tite.ange@…: Hush! You can’t sit down God next to sex like that, makes people nervous!

noluckwiththefu@…: Well, it’s God-given, I don’t give a damn, and the fact that we all have trouble acceptin it don’t make it any less true. I swear, it was not God’s intention for us all to be like Mary, an if it was, a mean an ugly God he would be. (from Mut@tus)

Now, I know Pam will insist that the passion she writes about goes far deeper than sex, it’s a spiritually-inspired love manifesting itself in union, or at times a sinister, forbidden longing. I get you, Pam, but you get Tatar too, right? I know you do. You smell the perfume in your own way… Glad you do. Glad you dare.

Now back to the book:

‘A visionary is someone who sees into the future. Taylor Forrestier sees into the past but only as it pertains to her work. Hailed by her peers as “a visionary with an instinct for beauty and an eye for the unique”, Taylor is undoubtedly a brilliant architect and gifted designer. But she and twin brother Trevor, share more than a successful business. The two share a childhood wrought with lies and deceit and the kind of abuse that’s disturbingly prevalent in today’s society. Can the love of God and the awesome healing power of His grace and mercy free the twins from their past and open their hearts to the good plan and the future He has for their lives?’

*

 

“Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“I’m not through yet,” he mumbled, then slid off the couch and swung her up in his arms.

Fear snuck in, darkening her eyes. She stiffened and opened her mouth to protest. He brushed his lips over hers and silenced her objections.

“I just want to hold you,” he whispered and laid his forehead against hers. “That’s all. I promise,” he added, unable to camouflage the need in his voice.

***

He’d offered her another step to relinquish her fear and trust him. Triumph lit his expressive eyes when she wrapped her arm around his neck, smiled, and whispered, “Okay,” then snuggled her face against his shoulder and let him carry her to the bedroom.

With exquisite tenderness, he laid her on the bed, crawled up beside her, and took her in his arms. Taylor felt the strength of his need in the heat and tensed against the hardness of his body. He eased his grip and propped up on one elbow beside her. His eyes pleaded for grace when he stroked the hair off her face and said in a soft, husky voice, “Please don’t be afraid of me; please trust me. I will never force or even persuade you to give more than you’re ready to.”

They gazed at each other for a long, tender moment. She cupped his cheek in her hand, brushed her thumb over his mouth, then curled her fingers in his hair and urged his head down to fasten her lips to his. A low moan escaped his throat, yet he held himself taut.

Taylor ran her hand over his shoulder and back in a soft caress then wrapped her arms around his waist. “Hold me, Alex, I trust you.”

The emotions reflected in his tone caressed her heart when he thanked her in that beautiful velvety-rough voice. He rolled onto his back, pulled the covers over her, and held her while she slept.

 The Visionary

 

Someone I don’t like too much said at least one thing that stuck: civilization is built up on a renunciation of instinct… Someone else I dislike less said where there’s desire, the power relation is already present.  To which I’ll add; where there’s power, there’s struggle… and I’ll second someone else who saw sexuality as a dense transfer point (of power). Not that I’m trying to join the league of  great thinkers, I’m just saying honest reflection will take you to interesting places. Whether we focus on what’s done or desired, there can be nothing reproachable in my search for love and knowledge of myself. We even have the green light from the bloody Bible! And as for God’s forgiveness, course he’ll forgive. He has to. Forgive us our trespasses and all that. God’s an act, not merely a thought. Surely? Besides, the act Pam describes here’s not unforgivable (and even if it were. What’s the point in only forgiving what’s forgivable in the first place? It’s the rest that counts, or should, if the thought is to become an act. I mean, a sincere one. Shouldn’t it?) Loads more to say on the subject.  I’ll be back. By popular demand. Seems loads of you’ve been missing me after all. I  knew you would. Well, I’m back. Pam’ll be back. You’ll be back. Tatar.

 

The Visionary by award-winning Christian novelist, Pamela Thibodeaux. “Steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.”

Available at:

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also as hardback:

The Visionary by Pamela Thibodeaux

Fallen Leaves (Rocking Summer Romances) by Tina Gayle

Fallen-Leaves-cover-200x300

As autumn comes to the Winston estate in Ohio, Amber Harrison learns further lessons in her new position as keeper for the spirits and ghosts who haunt the estate–and further lessons in love, too. She and her love, Carter Miller, grapple with the fears and passions of new love, while caught up in the storm of ancient family drama.

This is the second book in the unfolding saga of the psychics and talents associated with the Winston estate, a sheltered place where past, present, and future are woven into a single dramatic tapestry of love and desire. The tale spans multiple generations, multiple eras, and offers something special for all ages of reader. A sexy, erotic winner!

 *

 

“How long before you install the new cabinets?”

He turned on the ladder. His dark brown eyes captured her, engulfing her in an encompassing warmth. She melted under his heated gaze, which ran from the top of her head to the white socks on her feet. He lifted a brow at her attire, but he didn’t comment on her pink sweat suit.

“With the old cabinets out of the way, I need to knock down this wall and tear up the flooring. The electrical work is next on the agenda.” He climbed off the ladder, yanked off his gloves, and slid a hand through his thick, wavy hair.

“It might be awhile before we install the new cabinets. Right now, we’re simply working to remove the old stuff so we can start fresh.” He smiled, which didn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes or the fatigue in the slump of his shoulders.

“There’s no hurry. If you’re busy with something else, this can wait until your Dad and Mattie come home next week.”

“No, Dad doesn’t want her dealing with this mess.” Carter unbuckled his tool belt and placed it on a workbench. “I promised him I’d have it done.”

“Is Grant helping?” Amber stepped around several pieces of sheetrock and stray bits of wood, to the bottom of the stairs.

He walked to the backdoor. “Friday, his classes are over at noon.”

With his hand resting on the doorknob, he appeared anxious to leave. “I’m headed to lunch, and then I need to drop by the office for a while. Are you sure you’re okay here by yourself?”

Amber toyed with the idea of saying no. She missed the taste of his lips and the strength of his arms, but she nodded instead. “Yes, I’m fine.”

After opening the door, he paused. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

She waved and turned to head to her room, satisfied she’d at least gotten him to talk. Her leaden feet trudged up the steps. Unexcited, she contemplated her latest assignment from the family council. How could she achieve such an impossible task of convincing her great grandmother’s ghost to cross over?

 

 

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So, Tina, tell us a bit about yourself:

– After years of working in the business sector

– Doing what?

– A variety of jobs, I then decided to try my hand at writing.

– Enjoying it?

– Definitely! Whether I’m good or not, you tell me! I’m currently working on a series about four executive wives. The first three books have been released. The last one will be out this year. I’ve  also started a paranormal romantic mystery series called the Family Tree series. With a family of spirits guiding the lives of their keeper, Amber has a number of tasks to accomplish like solving a two hundred year old mystery.

Summer’s Growth is in that series, right?

– You’re right!

– So what else? With all this writing, do you even find time for anything else?

– I like to play golf, to travel, and to do both with my husband, Mike. Can’t wait for him to retire so we can do more of both.

– Where can I get more of you?

– Well, you can read the first chapter of any of my books by visiting my website. And you’ll find me practically everywhere on the internet:

homepage   blog    twitter   Linkedin      goodreads  facebook   Google+

 

 

Naked Rebel (Rocking Summer Romances) by Anita Philmar

Naked Rebel

A spy that prefers to work alone, Nick Royster’s assignment is turned upside down when his superiors sends him a personal companion. Not appreciating the need to watch someone else’s back, he attends a dinner of Salsar’s inner group. Only to learn; he has to sacrifice Rane to get the information he needs to end the war.

Rane knows the importance of winning. Her family slaughtered by Salsar, this is her homeland and she plans to do whatever it takes to win her people’s freedom.

With everything on the line, can these two have any future together or does love and war equal heartache?

*

 

“I know it’s not much, but its home.” At least for the last few months it’d been. Once he’d reached the rank of top miner, it’d taken less than a year to make head foreman. Yet, he still didn’t know the location of Nustru’s purification plant.

“Nice.” A muffled voice rang through his small two room unit.

He glanced around at the bare walls. She couldn’t be serious.

Yes, he didn’t have to live in a tent, but the place wasn’t a proper home for a woman either. An ugly brown couch stood right by the door while a yellow counter with a cooler and stove occupied the opposite wall. The doorway to the back led to a tiny bathroom and an even smaller bedroom.

Not willing to argue about how she never should have been sent here, Nick walked over and looked inside the cooler. “Would you like something to drink?”

“That would be great,” she whispered through her veil.

Nick grabbed a protein drink and turned to see her struggling with the hood covering her head. He set down her drink and stepped to her side. The black cloak covering her really did its job. He couldn’t see any part of her except her small hands.

“Let’s see, how can we free you from this contraption?” He fingered the rough fabric covering her shoulders and lifted the lip of the cloth running along her biceps.

She stepped back and lowered her head.

He pulled. The hood fell away, revealing her reddish-gold hair.

A loud rip preceded a soft feminine scent, which filled the room. The cloak covering her body tore into long strips and crumbled to the floor at her feet.

A bullet of lust shot straight to his loins at the spectacular view. Full, creamy breasts covered by a skimpy piece of pink lace led to a narrow waist. Another strip hung on her curvy hips and restricted his view of her luscious center. A dark stain on her panties made him wonder if she was already wet with need.

“Nick?”

 

 

For once, I, Tatar, man of many words, thought I’d keep out of this presentation of a new Rocking Summer Romance so you can make your own mind up without knowing beforehand what was going through mine. What I will tell you though, is: redhead. The woman who took my virginity:

Cup it… squeeze it… not so hard… kiss it (she halfwhispered)… if you pull on it with your tongue, it’ll feel like, let me show you… Do you know any Latin terms, she asked me. I hardly heard a word of what she was saying I was so bloody nervous. I’ll teach you one, she said. No, I’ll teach you two…

Had a soft spot for redheads ever since, so: Rane, rebellious, redhead, (naked…), of whom I’m told you will do ‘whatever it takes to save your people’, what else am I going to find out about you?

 

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Lady Elinor’s Escape (Rocking Summer Romances) by Linda McLaughlin

 

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Linda McLaughlin. A woman of many faces. Here she’ll treat us to some historical romance. Elsewhere, writing under the name of Lyndi Lamont, she co-writes ‘steamy to erotic romance’ with Lyn O’Farrell. Yeah, you heard me. With her good girl’s face on she can be pleasantly improper. Lady Elinor can’t make up her mind how much she wants to wait. And her abusive aunt’s probably uptight cos she’s not getting it anymore (if she ever did). Linda tells me she’s bipolar, there’s nothing wrong with her that a little lithium in the water wouldn’t cure. The aunt, of course, not Linda. Some Greek philosopher it was who said there isn’t a thing a good rodgering can’t put straight. Good man!

Lady Elinor. Here’s her dilemma:

‘Lady Elinor Ashworth always longed for adventure, but when she runs away from her abusive aunt, she finds more than she bargained for. Elinor fears her aunt who is irrational and dangerous, threatening Elinor and anyone she associates with. When she encounters an inquisitive gentleman, she accepts his help, but fearing for his safety, hides her identity by pretending to be a seamstress. She resists his every attempt to draw her out, all the while fighting her attraction to him.

There are too many women in barrister Stephen Chaplin’s life, but he has never been able to turn his back on a damsel in distress. The younger son of a baronet is a rescuer of troubled females, an unusual vocation fueled guilt over his failure to save the woman he loved from her brutal husband. He cannot help falling in love with his secretive seamstress, but to his dismay, the truth of her background reveals Stephen as the ineligible party.’

 *

“Would you like to take a walk? There is a remarkable view of the city from the top of the hill, but do not forget your bonnet. You do not wish to get freckles on that lovely complexion.” He playfully touched the tip of her nose with one finger.

She laughed and donned the straw hat, but left her gloves on the blanket. “I never freckle.”

He moved closer to tie the ribbons under her chin. The brush of his hands on her neck sent shivers through her.

“We do not want your hat to blow off. It can be windy on the hill.”

He stood and held out his hand to help her up. She was acutely aware of the warmth of his bare hand enfolding hers. It was quite improper but also quite pleasant. Fingers linked, they trudged up the hill.

“Oh,” Elinor gasped softly when they reached the top. London lay before her, viewed through a slight haze. Nevertheless, she could see the spires of the city’s many churches. The sheer size and scope of the panorama comforted her. Surely, in such a large city, Aunt Sarah would not find her.

“Worth the walk, is it not?” Stephen Chaplin said as he let go her hand and stood behind her. He put one hand on her shoulder and used the other one to point out various landmarks. “There is St. Paul’s. Do you see the dome?”

“Yes,” she whispered, acutely aware of his closeness. The heat of his body seemed to envelope her and she breathed in his scent, a combination of soap and musk. She had to force herself to concentrate on what he was saying.

“That is the City, and over there,” his arm swept to the right, “is Westminster and Mayfair. And in the distance, you can see the hills of Kent.”

She looked past the city and saw the faint outline of hills. Turning around, she smiled up at him. “It is a lovely view. How can I thank you for such a pleasant day?”

His gaze grew more intense and he leaned toward her. Was he going to kiss her? Should she let him? Of course not, her head answered, but her heart sped up and she leaned toward him.

Then he blinked and abruptly drew back. “There is no need to thank me. It has been my pleasure. Now we had best return. Madame Latour will be wondering what has happened to you.”

Oddly disappointed, Elinor let him lead her back down the hill. For just a second she had thought he might kiss her. Had wanted him to kiss her. She sighed. What was wrong with her? Under the circumstances, it would be beyond the pale for her to lead him on. After all, she would only be in London a short time, just until her father sent for her. She needed to concentrate on getting word to him about her predicament.

Before she lost all sense of the propriety demanded of the daughter of an earl.

 

 

All form and propriety it was back in those days. Playing the waiting game. Talk about making life hard for yourself. But I love reads like this one. You get to see how ingenious people can be. Women in particular. The cunning behind the beauty. Stiff upper lips will melt, believe me!

 

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