It's Here!

Book Two in The Huntington Saga Series Novels~

Pirate Bride!

Miss Susannah Blakemore is kidnapped and sold into white slavery as payback to the Huntingtons. Will her pirate hero save her?

“The Huntingtons will pay. Oh, they will pay.” Plots and unholy alliances are put into action carrying out long-awaited retribution.

Only … one was not thought of. One was not even considered. How would anyone have guessed that a descendant of a pirate would take up his old family tradition in a mad quest to regain his bitterly lost love? The Marquess of Latham will not abide by this act of violence arranged for his precious love, but will surely save her -- will he not? And will he make her the next pirate bride?

Next? There must be a first to have a 'next'. But there was another ... centuries ago ... that still walks the halls of Stonecrest Castle.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Excerpt from The Governess:

England ~ Summer 1860 ~ The Huntington Ball

Carly was quite ready for a break.  She could not believe the turn of events this night.  Fanatical, morbidly-crazed women!  They should be ashamed for acting so stupidly. 
As soon as she was away from anyone else, finally, she breathed in the air, her heart becoming lighter.  She walked further away from the beautiful ballroom which had grown much too horrible from unkind society.  How could the Huntington’s know such people? 
Wishing not to feel troubled by her tumultuous emotions, she knew she should feel happier simply from this occasion and concentrated instead upon nature.  Consciously relaxing, she found herself enjoying the lovely night sky that blanketed the beautiful, peaceful gardens below, wandering new paths she had never discovered before. 
The moon was enormous and shone down brightly upon the hushed walkways, its light drifting down amongst the shrubbery.  Carly enjoyed the fragrant blooms and flowering trees beautifully and romantically lit by tall, elegant torches for the festivities of the summer evening.  Quietly breathing in the fresh air, calming her soul, she plucked a beautiful burgundy rosebud from a vase upon a garden table, popping the bud from the stem, enjoying its simple fragrance and soft petals, rubbing it gently across her cheeks. 
What a peculiar night.  It had not been as enjoyable as she had hoped.  The young gentlemen were certainly thoughtful, but the young ladies…horrible creatures! 
Carly pulled a soft petal from the rose and smoothed it against her cheek, discarding the rest.  So smooth, soft, and fragrant, she thought.  It calmed her.  But troubled thoughts kept working through her mind. 
Such as…this particular gentleman…he confused her so! 
One minute, she found herself completely taken with him, ready to throw caution to the wind, trusting him entirely; the next, she would be reminded of all the reasons why she struggled so with trust of him.  Remembering how he had held her against him, the scent of his warm skin and his passionate kisses, her hand went to her face at recalling their most recent exchange. 
Had other ladies experienced this passion from him this evening in some dark, secret corridor?  He had seemed to desire their company tonight more than her own.  Were all women a passing fancy for him to toy with until he became more serious in matters of matrimony?  He was certainly getting an eager eyeful tonight with all the ladies contending for his attentions. 
Rolling her eyes in aggravation, Carly sighed heavily, annoying jealousy growing in her young, inexperienced heart.  From everything she had heard he supposedly had not been in love for a very long time.  So why the attention to me?  Am I so effortless to seduce? Or am I just a convenient target?
Unaware of how far she had come, she startled upon hearing his voice.  “You should be more careful walking out here alone.” 
Carly jumped at the sound of the deep, husky voice of the very person that she was thinking about.  “Oh!  You startled me, my lord.”  Trying to calm her breathing, her hand fluttered to her breast.  “I…I did not hear your approach,” she stammered nervously.  He looked spectacular in the darkness, his white shirt bright in the moonlight.  Her worry grew in his silence.  That stupid stare! 
He, on the other hand, simply could not stop staring at Lady Blakemore so softly lit by the moonlight. 
And so alone. 

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