Thursday, February 16, 2012
PASSION AND PRETENSE
March 6, 2012. That's when PASSION AND PRETENSE officially releases into the wild. Well, into bookstores and e-readers, at least.
I really love this story and I've been impatiently waiting to share it. I'm gearing up to do a blog tour and some fun give-aways, etc., but I'll just have to tease you a bit while I firm up the details. Meanwhile, keep your eyes open for more, because what begins as Pretense might have a way of ending in Passion!
Miss Penelope Rastmoor has always been a bit of a troublemaker. Determined to thwart her brother's plans to get her properly married, she decides what she needs is the most horrible, unsuitable fiancé ever imagined. Unfortunately, she never quite imagined Lord Harry!
Lord Harry Chesterton has his own reasons for agreeing to Penelope's scheme. A man's life hangs in the balance and Lord Harry needs what Penelope has—a mysterious Egyptian scarab. Yes, he'll pose as her unsuitable fiancé and he'll get his hands on her scarab. But will he be content with that, or will Lord Harry end up stealing something more precious?
An excerpt:
He held her tightly, pressing her against him to feel every inch of her tantalizing curves. His mouth took possession of hers, her sweetness and willingness fueling a desire that was wholly unexpected. He knew, of course, kissing Miss Rastmoor would be pleasurable. He never dreamed it would be so overwhelming.
"It would appear Miss Rastmoor is good at a few things, as well," he said, coming up for air.
She, too, was catching her breath. Her huge blue eyes blinked up at him. "Heavens, but you're even more wicked than everyone says you are!"
"Now don't act quite so righteous, my dear. You seem to be someone who rather likes wicked."
"But my brother doesn't. He is absolutely going to hate you."
He didn't much care for the sound of that. "I thought you said he wasn't here?"
"He's not, but once he finds out we've become engaged, he'll boil over like a scalded pot. Oh, he'll be furious."
Harris shoved her away as if she'd suddenly become scalding herself. "Now wait one little minute here!"
"No, no, it's no reason to panic," she said, shushing him as if she expected him to stand here and discuss this with her. "I'm not trying to trap you, or anything."
"It sure as hell seems that way," he said, scanning for the quickest, darkest way out of the garden. "Damn it, woman, did you think by luring me into a few stolen kisses I'd feel compelled to drop down on my knee and offer for you?"
She stood up very straight and jabbed her pointy little chin into the air. "I don't recall luring you at all, sir. Besides, I've heard your uncle has pulled the rug out from under your finances until you get a proper wife."
"And you'd like to apply for the job?"
"Heavens, no! It's just that I'm in somewhat the same situation, you see."
He really had no idea where this was going, but damned if he wasn't intrigued. What the hell was this minx up to?
"You need a proper wife?" he asked.
"No. I need a proper fiancé," she replied. "Or rather, a very improper one."
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