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.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Monday, July 11, 2011 -- BiWeekly Blog -- The Governess

Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 11:

Carly skipped a few steps in her excitement, for she could not believe her good fortune!  Lord Huntington would be paying her in advance at the beginning of every month a more sizable sum than she had thought to receive.  She must be wise with her expenses, saving up for future rainy days as she had been taught to do.  Gratitude filled her heart, thinking that surely she would be able to do so with the generous raise she had already received. 
She was anxious to reach Dunford village and procure not only ribbon, lace, needle and thread to alter her gowns to last much longer, but to pick out material to make a new gown as well.  She could not bear to be anyone’s center of attention dressed in snug fitting gowns any longer.  Of course, Lord Huntington had insisted upon a new wardrobe to be ordered for her shortly, but in the meantime, she must be modestly attired. 
            It was a beautiful spring morning, and Carly was determined to make the most of it by walking the three miles into the small village, enjoying her much-loved outdoors.  She needed this precious restorative time to herself before her hours with the children.  The Huntington estate was immense and well-tended, and she enjoyed this time to ponder upon heaven’s creations about her.  Coming up over a rise, she saw that the village was engulfed in a misty haze that curved in and out between trees and cottages. 
“Beautiful!” she breathed. 
Nestled in the middle of the village, she could see the spire belonging to the town church peeking through the mist, and suddenly felt a pang of homesickness for her small village that resembled many like Dunford. 
In the distance, she could see an old bridge made from stone with many arches crossing a large waterway.  It must be very ancient, she decided.  As she approached the village, she began crossing the solid structure, noting that the mist was quickly burning off in the early sunshine.  She briefly wondered about the history of Dunfordshire, but only for a moment.  As she stepped from the bridge, she entered an enchanting world of winding streets and adorable cottages that immediately caught her breath away. 
At her right, a charming white cottage had bluish-purple wisteria climbing across the front of the home, shading the window and crossing over the doorway to continue around the side and up and down the chimney.  The large flowering clusters hung heavily, dangling upon the vines and perfuming the entire section of the village she was walking through.  This seemed to be a popular flower growing upon many of the village’s cottages and businesses. 
Soon she entered a cobblestoned walkway and knew she must be close to her destination when a little shop came into view displaying a hand-painted sign of a giant needle and spool of thread dangling over its front window. 
She entered, and upon meeting the shopkeeper and his talkative wife, quickly found they were both eager to help her and discover all they could about her, especially upon learning she was employed at the manor house. 
“Only two spools of thread, milady?” the proprietor, Mr. Fisher asked. 
“Thank you, yes.  The black and the white, please.  I still have thread at home.  But I do like the muslin there.” 
“Yes, of course, milady,” he smiled pleasantly, and taking up the scissors began cutting the fabric she would need. 
“And you like the manor ‘ouse, milady?”  Mrs. Fisher was nosier.  “And the master?” 
With the ensuing silence from the few customers and shopkeeper, Carly knew all ears were waiting for the latest gossip.  “I think the place will grow on me.” 

Gossip-mongers!  Always available and willing to share!  :) 
Hope you enjoyed this little tidbit.  Join me on Friday to see what happens. 
Thanks for reading with me!
Ellise ;)

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