New York Times bestselling author Natasha Lesterdelivers an unforgettable story of an orphan turned WWII spy turned fashion icon in Paris—perfect for fans of Kate Quinn and Fiona Davis.
1943. After spearheading several successful advertising campaigns in New York, PR wizard Alix St. Pierre comes to the attention of the U.S. government and finds herself recruited into a fledgling intelligence organization.
Enlisted as a spy, Alix is sent to Europe where she is tasked with getting close to a Nazi who might be willing to help the Allied forces–but there’s also the chance he might be a double agent.
1946. Following the war, Alix moves to Paris and takes a position as head of publicity for the yet-to-be-launched House of Dior. But when a figure from the war reappears and threatens to destroy her future, Alix realizes that only she can right the wrongs of the past and bring him to justice.
The Three Lives of Alix St. Pierre is a thrilling, sumptuous work of historical fiction told in three timelines: before, during and after WWII. This completely immersive story takes readers from the dangerous, intrigue-filled rooms in Switzerland where elites of both sides mingled and schemed during the war, to the glamorous halls of the House of Dior in the golden age of French fashion and journalism.
The Three Lives of Alix St. Pierre is a well-written and intriguing historical fiction. As someone who struggles with historical reads, I’m always on the fence about reading one, yet looking for one that will sweep me off my feet. I’m happy to report that The Three Lives of Alix St. Pierre was a hit for this reader.
I was intrigued from the very first page and easily got swept up in this story filled with intrigue, danger, war, fashion, and of course romance. You could tell the author put a lot of heart and research into this story and I loved that it was told in three different timelines; before the war, during the war, and after the war. You really get a feel for who Alix is, what her struggles were, and how her life was forever changed.
Overall, I found this book to be a really enjoyable read. It’s not my normal read at all and I’m so glad I took a chance on this book. I can’t wait to discover more of Natasha Lester’s books!
*I was provided an ARC copy of this book via Forever Romance, in exchange for an honest review*
Having sampled the forbidden fruits of her online antics, Savannah wants more. When her relationship with Arcas comes under pressure, Savannah must make a choice. Will she make the right one? Fans of Julia Quinn, Shayla Black, Tessa Dare, and EL James will love Voyeur by Ida Brady, a spicy, seductive, enemies-to-lovers, alpha/virgin, disability, BDSM, erotic romance.
Having sampled the forbidden fruits of her online antics, Savannah wants more. Her penchant for voyeurism unlocks a new dimension in her relationship with Arcas, not to mention a boudoir of new thrills…RPGs, corsets and monsters, oh my!
With the success of her blog, demands from Savannah’s online fans means she can earn money from strangers and satisfy her curiosity.
And all those wicked Regency fantasies offer plenty of material. Namely, what the commanding Duke would do to Emmaline in the confines of the carriage. And the dressing room. And the masquerade ball. Savannah’s imagination knows no bounds, and her appetite for this historical couple is heightened by the arrival of Lady Dewberry and the devilish Lord Walcott.
But when Savannah finds herself targeted by zealots, the ugly truth about her childhood begins to emerge. As her relationship with Arcas comes under pressure, Savannah must make a choice: to conceal the past or finally confront her demons.
With Arcas’ encouragement, Savannah hovers between two worlds, indulging in her new online career and fantasizing about a fictional one she hasn’t had the pleasure of knowing. Yet.
Savannah’s desire always began in her clit. The tell-tale pulsing, the silent rhythmic throbbing captivated her, holding her in its thrall. Spellbound.
She was learning so much about her sexuality, discovering new kinks and fetishes, finding out what it was that aroused her.
A bit of dom/sub action. Super hot.
Pup play. Super not.
But there was no judgment in her exploration. No shame. Nothing off limits.
Arcas was a generous and open-minded lover. Their sex-life in the past three months had been like unlocking some secret level in a game.
Wondrous, new, and a little fucking scary.
Which was why she was eager and yet nervous as she approached the luxurious estate miles away from the city, about to embark on her first orgy.
The ranch-style home was one of many exclusive properties that dotted the Victorian coastline. Arcas had pointed out the sheer number of convertibles and boutique stores as she drove through Somerton, slowing to a crawl every now and then to gawk at the locals. Every person they spotted seemed to be out of some high-end fashion advertisement. Perfect hair, expensive clothes and a decent fake tan. It was odd and yet fascinating but not enough to distract her from the trepidation that danced along her spine.
Savannah drove through the gated security of the estate and along the winding driveway, secured on either side by large hedgerows. She felt simultaneously comforted and claustrophobic.
Until she spotted the house. It sprawled out in front of them, stretching across the paved drive and extending out farther than she could see. If the grandiosity of the home wasn’t enough to make her feel nervous, the sheer newness of this experience did.
She took her time getting out of the car, smoothing down her dress, admiring the plants and flowers. But she couldn’t hang out in the driveway forever. Savannah straightened her spine as they approached the front door.
Arcas waited patiently beside her, giving her a light pat on her butt for encouragement. A hell of a lot had changed in three months, including the spectacular success of her online sex blog, ‘Sexcapades.’ She was fast building up many sexual experiences, which meant a ton of material to write about, not that she could document everything. Lord knew, she tried.
“You know you have to ring the bell to gain entry, right?”
Savannah turned to her boyfriend. His green eyes were bright with mischief.
“I think I’m a little nervous.”
“That’s totally normal.”
“Bec said she’d be coming, right?”
“She did. And that the people who rock up here are legit. It’s exclusive and selective. They know about your blog, and that you’ve got a private channel. It’s all above board.”
The private channel had been created when a few individuals wanted to take her journaling and sexual experiences to a new level. They’d wanted to watch her have sex online. To see her pleasure herself, making requests in the process.
After chatting with Arcas about the safety measures they would put in place, she had set up an exclusive, private group. Which meant that if anyone actually wanted to watch her orgasm, they could. If they paid.
And boy did they pay.
It had been more popular than she had expected. She was still becoming accustomed to this line of work, not to mention the wonderfully liberating nature of exploring her sexuality with strangers.
Savannah nodded. Drawing in a deep breath, she rang the bell. “It’s orgy time.”
About Ida Brady
Ida Brady writes spicy contemporary and erotic romance that packs all the heat! From humour, to heartbreak, to happily ever after, you’re guaranteed a steamy read with all the tropes. Enemies to lovers, billionaire, virgin, menage…you name it, she writes it!
Ida is a lover of chocolate and thunderstorms. When she isn’t trying to tame her intractable curls, she’s running after her little ones, usually with a book in hand. Ida lives in the hustle and bustle of Melbourne’s CBD with her Irish husband and their out of control collection of books. She sometimes daydreams about having a huge library in her home but will settle for stacking novels in the kitchen drawers instead.
In her past life, Ida taught VCE Literature and English to a gaggle of teenagers. While she misses their enthusiasm, she sure as hell doesn’t miss marking papers. You might find her dancing the Argentine tango in her spare time, which isn’t often these days. She loves travelling with her family, observing strangers at cafés and getting lost in a good story.
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A transportive debut romance set in turn-of-the-century Chicago.
THE DAVENPORTS
EARLY PRAISE FOR THE DAVENPORTS: ★ “This deftly written series opener examines the lives of Black elites following Reconstruction with a focus on the constraints of women. The strong characterization, developed through alternating third-person perspectives, and descriptive setting lure readers in. A dazzling debut.” – Starred Review, Kirkus Reviews ★ Marquis perceptively explores the history and momentous impact of Black achievements and wealth during an underreported period in U.S. history. Employing expert characterization and complex dynamics, the author presents a cast of take-charge women, undeterred by their struggles and pursuing their passions regardless of expectations. – Starred Review, Publisher’s Weekly “With dazzling prose and whip-smart pacing, Krystal Marquis’s gorgeous debut spirits readers into a world of polished glamor, but also a world shadowed by painful reckonings. Through trial, defeat, defiance, and triumph, its characters offer heart and perspective. The Davenports is a fresh, utterly enchanting read, and a much-needed addition to the contemporary canon of Black literature.” —Ayana Gray, New York Times bestselling author of the Beasts of Prey trilogy
Debut author Krystal Marquis transports readers to opulent 1910s Chicago in THE DAVENPORTS (Dial Books, on sale January 31, 2023),
the first book in an enthralling duology that interweaves romance, heartbreak, and courage, experienced through the lens of the early 20th century and four distinct perspectives. Olivia, Helen, Amy Rose, and Ruby bring readers along for the ride as they navigate the intricacies of love for the first time. Marquis’ dynamic Black heroines and their romantic adventures—inspired by the family of automobile magnate C.R. Patterson, and the flourishing of Black excellence in the 1900s—are perfect for fans of Jasmine Guillory.
The Davenport family thrives due to the entrepreneurship and ensuing fortune amassed by William Davenport, a formerly enslaved man who established the Davenport Carriage Company years prior. While the Davenports and their friends are surrounded by chandeliers, gorgeous gowns, and endless parties, they soon learn that not all that glitters is gold, and love is the hardest lesson.
Olivia, the beautiful older Davenport daughter, is in the process of fulfilling her obligations to get married until she meets the charismatic civil rights leader, Washington DeWight. Her sister and the younger Davenport daughter, Helen, is more interested in fixing cars than falling in love—unless it’s with her sister’s suitor, the mysterious Jacob Laurence. Amy-Rose, childhood friend turned maid to the Davenport sisters, dreams of opening her own hair care business—and marrying the one man she could never be with, Olivia and Helen’s brother, John. Olivia’s best friend, Ruby, also has her sights set on John Davenport, though she can’t seem to keep his interest until family pressures have her scheming to win his heart, just as Harrison Barton wins hers.
The varied perspectives in THE DAVENPORTS offer connections with the characters and look at a time in history rarely seen in young adult novels. With four distinct voices and experiences, ever-changing social environments, a sweep-you-off-your-feet romance, and an exciting cliffhanger, readers will fall in love with the Davenport family and their friends, and be left to eagerly anticipate book two of the series.
Krystal Marquis happily spends most of her time in libraries and used bookstores. She studied biology at Boston College and University of Connecticut and now works as an environmental, health, and safety manager for the world’s biggest bookseller. A lifelong reader, Krystal began researching and writing on a dare to complete the NaNoWriMo Challenge, resulting in the first partial draft of The Davenports. When not writing or planning trips to the Book Barn to discover her next favorite romance, Krystal enjoys hiking, expanding her shoe collection, and plotting ways to create her own Jurassic Park.
THE DAVENPORTS by Krystal MarquisDial Books | $19.99 | Ages 12 and UpISBN: 9780593463338 | on sale January 31, 2023
Penguin Random House, the world’s largest trade book publisher, is dedicated to its mission of nourishing a universal passion for reading by connecting authors and their writing with readers everywhere. The company, which employs more than 10,000 people globally, was formed on July 1, 2013, by Bertelsmann and Pearson, who own 75 percent and 25 percent, respectively. With nearly 275** imprints and brands on six continents, Penguin Random House comprises adult and children’s fiction and nonfiction print and digital English- and Spanish-language trade book publishing businesses in more than 20 countries worldwide. With over 15,000 new titles, and more than 600 million print, audio and eBooks sold annually, Penguin Random House’s publishing lists include more than 80 Nobel Prize laureates and hundreds of the world’s most widely read authors.
It’s that time of year again! As you know, there is nothing more that I love than challenging myself when it comes to the books I read. Whether it’s a new author, series, a genre that takes me out of my comfort zone or being able to tackle some books that have been on my tbr for far too long; I live for a good reading challenge. In the past few years, I stepped up my game not only with the books that I read but also by attempting to clear out that never-ending to-read list. As always, my challenges have been hard, but a ton of fun at the same time.
For 2023’s Reading Challenge, I really wanted to once again challenge myself and kick my never-ending to-read list’s butt!! And I am more than ready for the challenge……
Re-Read a favorite book A book by an author new to me A Contemporary Romance A New Adult Read A Biker Novel A Paranormal/Fantasy Romance A Sports Romance A Romantic Comedy A book chosen for its cover An Accidental Pregnancy Romance An Older Brother’s Best Friend Romance A Holiday Romance (any holiday) A Forbidden Romance A Billionaire Romance A Jilted Bride Romance A Workplace Romance A Fake Relationship A Marriage of Convenience My Favorite troupe A book with a red cover A Book with a One-Word Title A Book with a pink cover A Book with an illustrated cover A book set in a different country from where I currently live. 10 books on my TBR 6 New Releases A Rock Star Romance A Book picked by a friend A Dark/Taboo Romance A Historical Romance A Reverse Harem Romance An Enemies to Lovers Romance A book that will make you Ugly Cry A book with an Age Gap A book with Friends to Lovers A book with a Blue cover A Book with a White Cover A Book with no people on the cover A Book that will be made/has been made into a movie/tv show A Diversified Read A Romantic Suspense A Book with a black cover A book, where the main character is/, was in the military A Small-Town Romance A First Responder (Police Officer/Firefighter/EMT) A Second Chance Romance A Dystopian/Science Fiction Romance A Grumpy/Sunshine Romance A book with a yellow cover 2 Books that’s been on my tbr for 3 years or more A Book with a Purple Cover A Book by my favorite author A Royal Romance A book with a Cowboy on the cover A YA Book An Insta-Love Romance An Opposites Attract Romance A Forced Proximity Romance A Romance With A Bearded Man On Cover A Fighter/MMA Book Romance A Bad Boy Romance A Bully Romance Romance A Mafia Romance A Gothic Romance A Stand-alone Novel Finish A Series I Started 2 Novellas 3 Duets 1 Box Set
Savannah loves sex. If she’s not doing it with her gamer boyfriend, Arcas, she’s daydreaming about it, preferably with a 19th century duke. She embarks on a year-long journey of sexual exploration, documenting her experiences in her online blog. When Savannah’s conservative past threatens her newfound freedom, will she find the courage to stay the course? Fans of Shayla Black, Tessa Dare, and the Bridgerton series by Julia Quinn will love Virtue by Ida Brady, a spicy, seductive, enemies-to-lovers, alpha/virgin, disability, erotic romance.
Savannah loves nothing more than a good romp in the sack. If she’s not doing it with her paraplegic gamer boyfriend, Arcas, she’s at the very least daydreaming about it, preferably with a duke from the 19th century. Her overactive imagination means she can’t help but fantasize about the R-rated pastimes of the peerage, adding her own scintillating scenes to her favorite historical romance, Love and Honor.
By day, she dreams about the commanding Duke of Maddern and his seduction of Miss Emmaline Collins, the innocent, headstrong beauty whose heart he broke long ago. By night, she embarks on a year-long sex challenge: to experience and document her wild bedroom antics in her online blog, Sexcapades.
But when her conservative past threatens her newfound freedom, Savannah must find the courage to stay the course. Hovering between Regency England and modern-day Melbourne, she begins a journey of sexual exploration that no one had seen coming.
Savannah stroked the spine of the book, a smile playing at her lips.
It was her umpteenth time reading Love and Honor, a classic nineteenth-century romance and all she could think about was why the Duke of Maddern didn’t bend Miss Collins over his desk and show her just how proud he could be.
She could picture him in the library now, stalking towards Emmaline, demanding she lift her skirts.
Her imagination beckoned along with her desire.
The Duke followed Miss Collins into the library, his cock straining against his breeches. He shut the door behind him firmly, the sharp click reverberating through the empty room. Time was limited. Flustered and uncertain, Emmaline’s chaperone, an older, unmarried relative, had accepted the Earl’s offer to dance. He owed Lord Stanton a great sum for the diversion.
The moon was particularly bright this evening, piercing through the windows, illuminating the beauty of the woman before him. All softness had faded, though the years had not been unkind. There was a haunting beauty to her visage, a sadness that shadowed her graceful movements. For as long as he could remember, she had conducted herself as a lady. Indeed, she was, if not for the inconvenience of her father’s station, a lady in every respect. She would always be so in his mind.
Was he in his cups, or were her lips an even darker shade of peony than he remembered? Even with her brow pinched and her mouth downturned, she stirred a long-forgotten feeling inside.
He knew it was not right to be alone with her in this fashion. Even still, he would chase this woman to the most exotic, far-off continents.
“I’ve been thinking about you since Mrs. Perryweather’s play.”
He watched as one round shoulder lifted in nonchalance. Despite the casual gesture, her eyes shimmered with unspoken thoughts.
Once he had been privy to such musings, but no longer.
“Is that so, Your Grace? I thought you were rather occupied.”
Maddern had been overrun by young ladies eager to make his acquaintance. He was quite a catch according to the meddling mammas. Yet not one of the simpering ingénues had stirred his appetite.
He knew what they said. After all, he was a duke with a considerable fortune. A duty, he found, that was akin to a hangman’s noose. Maddern was weary of doing what was expected. None of it mattered if he didn’t get what he truly desired.
The woman standing before him.
Miss Emmaline Collins.
She was stubborn and impertinent. Bold in her manner. And she harbored a hatred for him that had not dissipated over time. He intended to bring her to heel, perhaps over his bended knee. The image was too illicit to fathom, but once it had taken up residence in his head, he was determined to make it a reality.
“Don’t play coy with me. I am not a fool,” Maddern rumbled.
“One must not laugh at the noble Duke. He is, after all, such a jovial, candid man.”
“Lift those skirts, wench, and I will show you the real meaning of candid.”
About Ida Brady
Ida Brady writes spicy contemporary and erotic romance that packs all the heat! From humour, to heartbreak, to happily ever after, you’re guaranteed a steamy read with all the tropes. Enemies to lovers, billionaire, virgin, menage…you name it, she writes it!
Ida is a lover of chocolate and thunderstorms. When she isn’t trying to tame her intractable curls, she’s running after her little ones, usually with a book in hand. Ida lives in the hustle and bustle of Melbourne’s CBD with her Irish husband and their out of control collection of books. She sometimes daydreams about having a huge library in her home but will settle for stacking novels in the kitchen drawers instead.
In her past life, Ida taught VCE Literature and English to a gaggle of teenagers. While she misses their enthusiasm, she sure as hell doesn’t miss marking papers. You might find her dancing the Argentine tango in her spare time, which isn’t often these days. She loves travelling with her family, observing strangers at cafés and getting lost in a good story.
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December 1, 2022—Sinful Wallflowers, a series of three historical romances by USA Today award-winning author Stacy Reid, is being adapted for television by Sologne Angelique Productions. Published by Entangled Publishing, the novels—My Darling Duke, Her Wicked Marquess, and A Scoundrel of Her Own—tell stories of women who boldly navigate the many challenges of life in a patriarchal society.
Moving forward, Sologne Angelique Productions’ CEO and Executive Producer Sologne Schumacher will work closely with Reid to create the television series. The production company is also currently seeking a streaming partner.
“Our company’s mission is amplifying the voices of historically excluded creators, and given Stacy Reid’s gifts as a storyteller, we knew she was someone we wanted to work with,” Schumacher explains. “When I read the Sinful Wallflowers series, I knew these were characters the world needed to see.”
Stacy Cantor Abrams, editorial director of Entangled Publishing and Reid’s editor, is eagerly awaiting the TV adaptation of Reid’s novels. “The Sinful Wallflowersbooks are bestsellers and fan favorites out of Reid’s entire backlist, meaning they represent the very pinnacle of historical romance,” Abrams says. “Now, we’ll get a chance to see these exceptional plots and characters transformed for the medium of television. It’s always an exciting process, and I’m confident these books will adapt particularly well.”
Schumacher’s production team includes Co-Producer Leon Jones, an award-winning producer, director, and writer, and Producer/Composer Marla Harvey, whose most recent work has been purchased by ESPN/Disney.
ABOUT SOLOGNE ANGELIQUE PRODUCTIONS:
The Sinful Wallflowers TV development team is a multifaceted BIPOC creative team led by Executive Producer and CEO Sologne Schumacher, Co-Producer Leon Jones, and Producer/Composer Marla Harvey. Sologne Schumacher is a screenwriter, playwright and producer who specializes in adaptation. She will be working closely with the author to create a TV series that both fans of the novels and those new to the franchise will be obsessed with. Leon Jones is an award-winning director, producer, and actor. He is committed to creating space for other BIPOC/LGBTQIA+ artists. His most recent work will be coming to Hulu soon. As their in-house composer, Marla Harvey will create a unique and rich score that makes their show stand out. Her most recent work has been purchased for use by ESPN/Disney.
ABOUT STACY REID:
USA Today bestselling author Stacy Reid writes sensual historical and paranormal romances and is the published author of over twenty books. Her debut novella, The Duke’s Shotgun Wedding, was a 2015 HOLT Award of Merit recipient in the Romance Novella category, and her bestselling Wedded by Scandal series is recommended as Top picks at Night Owl Reviews, Fresh Fiction Reviews, and The Romance Reviews.
ABOUT ENTANGLED PUBLISHING:
Established in 2011, Entangled Publishing is a 100% women-owned publisher with 2,800+ adult, New Adult, and young adult romance ebooks and print books sure to delight any reader. Entangled’s titles are distributed globally by Macmillan in New York, one of the largest book distributors in the world.
Yorkshire, 1943. Lily Baines, a bright young debutante increasingly ground down by an endless war, has traded in her white gloves for a set of headphones. It’s her job to intercept enemy naval communications and send them to Bletchley Park for decryption. One night, she picks up a transmission that isn’t code at all—it’s a cry for help. An American ship is taking heavy fire in the North Atlantic—but no one else has reported an attack, and the information relayed by the young US officer, Matt Jackson, seems all wrong. The contact that Lily has made on the other end of the radio channel says it’s…2023.
Across an eighty-year gap, Lily and Matt must find a way to help each other: Matt to convince her that the war she’s fighting can still be won, and Lily to help him stave off the war to come. As their connection grows stronger, they both know there’s no telling when time will run out on their inexplicable link.
When there was a war on, and when your part in it was so deadly serious it sometimes kept you from sleeping at night, there was really nothing to do but make jokes about it all. It was either make jokes or start weeping at your desk, so Lily made jokes.
“The wallpaper in this place is going to do me in,” she quipped an hour into her shift that Monday. “I can see my obituary now: ‘The Honorable Lily Baines, petty officer in the Women’s Royal Naval Service, twenty-two, dead of mid-Victorian chintz.’”
The others laughed, a welcome sound of cheer in the chilly parlor. The little seaside hotel, in which Lily and her fellow Wrens had spent nearly every day of the last year, had been made over into a listening station at the start of the war. The space was crammed with desks, naval message pads, and National HRO receivers with their cranky dials and chunky headphones. The only part of the room that still looked like a parlor was the wallpaper, pink blotches that might have been cabbage roses or maybe diseased kidneys, writhing across the walls and down the corridor outside, and in all the rooms upstairs where Lily and her fellow Wrens billeted in a welter of hideous china and starched doilies. “This whole place is a mid-Victorian howler,” Lily had decreed their first day, already slotted into her place as court jester, the one who kept everyone laughing.
And if she often felt like weeping from the stress and the fear and the endless grinding dread of it all, what did that matter? There was a war on; you pinned a smile in place and kept going.
“No daydreaming, Baines,” tutted Lily’s superior officer, a middle-aged woman named Fiddian who had a face like a fist. “Put those headphones back on.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lily blew on her mittened fingers. No one bothered to take off the coats bundled over their uniforms; it was far too cold. One of the advantages of joining the Wrens was supposed to be that sleek, dashing, brass-buttoned uniform (designed by Molyneux!), but no one ever saw the uniform here; Lily and her fellow Y Station listeners spent every shift bundled.
Lily slid the big Bakelite headphones back over her ears. Cold enclosed rooms, headphones, and secrecy—that was a Y Station listener’s world in a nutshell. Reaching toward her wireless receiver, she began turning knobs and went hunting.
It hadn’t seemed like hunting when she was doing her training course in Wimbledon over a year ago as a newly assigned special duties linguist. It had been serious business, of course, but there had been a certain fierce pleasure in learning to do it, and do it well: tuning her ears to the next room where a chap with a microphone droned a never-ending series of call signs, code groups, and German words, and Lily and a cluster of German-speaking Wrens scribbled on their pads, straining for every syllable. Can you repeat that? one of the girls had been foolish enough to ask, and the snap from the next room came right quick: Are you going to ask the Nazis to just repeat that, when you’re taking down their transmissions in the North Sea? It was all about learning to listen with every spark of energy you had, straining to hear as the teachers started building in interference: fading signals, interrupted signals, aural chaff (Write down exactly what you hear, and no guessing, girls!). Lily would exchange delighted grins with the others when they got a message clear; they’d compete to see who was best at parsing the transmissions.
But here in Withernsea, everything was deadly serious: they were intercepting live radio communications sent to enemy vessels, the same vessels that hunted their countrymen. Lily saw her quarry the moment she first sat down at this desk: wolf packs of U-boats knifing through the waters of the Atlantic, German surface vessels poking their ugly snouts through the Baltic, looking for soft Allied flesh. She didn’t have a brother out there, thank God—hers were both too young—but she had a whole flock of cousins, a pack of school friends, an entire flotilla of old beaux she’d fox-trotted and waltzed through her deb season with. Willy, Terry, John, Phil, Arthur, Kit, Andrew, Eddie, Dickie, Alan, Fred . . . Just running the list in her head, the ones she could lose, sent an icy hand of pure terror clawing down her throat.
Chin up, she told herself again, fingers resting on the knob like a pianist’s on the keys, sliding the length of the band. German transmissions, always to be found in the 4, 8, and 12 MHz bands— ship-to-ship communications fell in the 30 to 50 MHz band. Listening through the static, through the fuzz, sliding slowly along the frequencies. (Have my ears grown? Lily wondered sometimes in the bleariness of late-shift exhaustion. Do they stick out from my head like platters, the way I strain and swivel after radio chatter so many hours and hours and hours a day?) Straining, straining, straining, never knowing when a voice in German would suddenly jump into your ears. Two hours of static droned through her headphones tonight before a nasal Teutonic tenor emerged; Lily gave a sharp knock on the desk, and dimly heard one of the other Wrens calling, “We’ve got a Jerry ship up. Call Fiddian—” Lily was already writing with one hand, transposing the drone of German letter groups as her left-hand fingers poised on the knob, ready to track the voice if it disappeared back into static. She lost the signal in the middle, got it back within seconds, only a few letter groups dropped out there . . . It was all ciphered, just gibberish in five-letter clusters, but she didn’t have to make sense of it. She just wrote until her hand burned and listened till her ears bled, the entire person and essence of the Honorable Lily Baines stripped down to a pair of ears and a pair of hands.
Author Biography
Kate Quinn is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of many historical novels, including The Diamond Eye, The Rose Code, The Alice Network, and The Huntress. A native of Southern California, she received her bachelor’s and master’s in classical voice from Boston University before turning her focus to writing fiction. Her books have been translated into multiple languages, and The Alice Network was featured as a Reese Witherspoon Book Club pick. Quinn lives in San Diego with her husband and three adorable rescue dogs.
What happens when an impoverished duke with a reputation for being a rogue collides with a strong-willed heiress who wants to explore the world? An unlikely friendship . . . and unexpected passion.
Cailin Audley does not fit in with Polite Society. A life spent among the working class taught her to value her independence in a way no newfound fortune or glittering ballroom could ever erase. When a major misstep sees the new heiress whisked away to the English countryside, Cailin soon realizes the vexing lengths her family will go to see her settled. But having risked her heart once before, Cailin has no interest in the men of the ton—especially not the frustratingly charming Duke of St. James.
Courtland Balfour, the Duke of St. James, devoted brother and notorious rogue, despises what he must become—a fortune hunter. With the ducal coffers drained by his late spendthrift of a father, Courtland knows his duty lies at the altar, and he will do anything to ensure a future for his siblings. Just his luck that the one lady who could make this new fate bearable, who enflames him like no other, is the one woman who wants nothing to do with him or his title.
When an act of desperation inadvertently lands him and Cailin at the heart of another scandal, Courtland knows better than to waste his chance. Surely he can convince Cailin to love him?
Courtland gave his head a wistful shake, as for the first time since he’d arrived, he felt a frisson of . . . guilt, about asking anyone to give up the comfort of obscurity here for the garish opulence that was the Town.
Ace whinnied noisily, and Courtland absently stroked the loyal creature between the eyes. His nostrils flaring, Ace arched his head back into that favorite-of-his touch.
From the corner of his eye, Courtland caught a faint flutter, and he swung his attention to find a person watching him.
The less-than-furtive figure in the cottage pressed her forehead against the glass.
“It appears we have company,” he murmured, patting Ace once more. “Which isn’t terrible, as it means the sooner I finish, the sooner we’re free to return to London.”
Ace gave a toss of his head in clear equine disapproval.
“It appears we are of like opinions then, on that score,” Courtland said, winking at his horse.
Once again, those curtains parted slightly, and a young woman peeked through the crack in the fabric.
Enormous, saucer-sized blue eyes, filled with mistrust, met Courtland’s gaze.
The sister, then.
He grinned. “Good afternoon,” he called, and sketched a bow. “I’m here to speak with Mr. Audley.”
Judging by the stretch of silence to follow, the young woman was anything but impressed. Alas, while he was on the other side of a doorway, without a line of sight to his quarry, she was afforded an unhindered view that put Courtland at a distinct disadvantage.
Giving Ace another pat, Courtland started down the walkway.
“Stop there!” she shouted, a healthy dose of anger and suspicion freezing him halfway down the path.
Anger and suspicion, both of which, as a duke, he was unaccustomed to being greeted with.
“What do you want?” she called, her voice muffled by the oak panel.
What did he want? Or what did he need?
A fortune.
Security.
His siblings settled.
All of which indirectly accounted for his being here.
Bringing himself back to the matter at hand, Courtland offered another smile and held his empty palms up. “I want nothing more than to speak with your brothers . . . or you,” he cajoled, using soothing tones meant to bring her outside.
At last, the wood panel swung wide, affording him his first full, unobstructed view. And Courtland went absolutely motionless.
Oh, hell.
The young woman, with her full, ivory-hued cheeks and golden blond hair, had the height of a child, but the hardened stare of a woman some three decades her elder. Unfortunately for Courtland, that flinty stare was leveled at him.
Along with her ancient-looking firearm.
Reflexively, Courtland’s palms went flying up in surrender.
The late summer sun glinted off the end of the barrel. That enormous weapon looked all the more enormous when held as it was by one of her spritely size.
He swallowed hard and cursed long and harder inside his head.
The young woman flicked a derisive glance over Courtland’s person, before settling it upon his face, her gaze bored; and his ears went hot, as for the first time in his life he knew what it was to have a woman find him lacking.
“Why does it not surprise me at all that a fancy London fellow like you would come here issuing orders to me?” she drawled, the lyrical, lilting quality of her voice in almost farcical juxtaposition to the threat hanging on her words, and the very real threat of murder she directed his way.
Courtland kept his smile firmly affixed, and when he spoke, did so in the careful, placating tones he used with his easily riled younger sisters. “Perhaps had you taken a moment to hear me out and discuss the business that brought me here, then I wouldn’t have had to issue them, Miss Audley.”
Her flaxen eyebrows went shooting up. “Are you . . . challenging me?” The rifle wavered on her arm.
Oh, bloody hell. He was usually better at speaking to the fairer sex. Much better. It should so happen that the one time he failed to charm would likely land him a bullet in the chest-and a swift end to his miserable existence.
“Well?” she demanded, dipping slightly and adjusting the weapon on her arm.
He winced. “I believe you’ve already determined that I was challenging you, and as such, it hardly seems necessary to confirm with a verbal statement, Miss Audley.” He bit out each syllable, giving up on the gentle warmth he’d previously attempted.
She lowered the rifle slowly, and he took heart. “Now,” he said, taking a step forward. “If you would be so good as to lower your weapon all the-“
A loud report thundered in the afternoon quiet, cutting off the remainder of his words, and he flew back, hitting the ground so hard the air was sucked from his lungs.
Bloody hell. This was how he would end his short reign as duke-by taking a bullet straight to the chest.
Christi Caldwell is the USA Today bestselling author of the Sinful Brides series and the Heart of a Duke series. She blames novelist Judith McNaught for luring her into the world of historical romance. Christi lives in Charlotte, North Carolina where she spends her time writing and being a mommy to the most inspiring little boy and empathetic, spirited girls who, with their mischievous twin antics, offer an endless source of story ideas. Learn more online at christicaldwell.com.
Leo believes in playing the odds and is rarely surprised until he meets Georgina, the rebellious young bride of Lord Masterson. A game of cards quickly turns into an unforgettable night that leaves Georgina compromised in both heart and body. Fans of steamy historical and secret baby romances will devour The Wager of a Lady by Kathleen Ayers, the next book in the Beautiful Barringtons Series.
Leo Murphy believes in playing the odds, as long as the house wins. As the owner of Elysium, London’s most exclusive gambling hell, Leo’s existence depends on predicting his opponent’s next move. Rarely is he surprised. Until he meets the young bride of Lord Masterson losing at cards.
Georgina is beautiful, intelligent, possessed of a razor-sharp wit and a rebellious nature.
She is completely unexpected.
Leo is so struck by Georgina he doesn’t know whether to bed her or befriend her. He decides to do both.
A rebellious young American.
Wed to the scandalous and elderly Lord Masterson, Georgina detests London. Mocked for her accent and her family’s pedigree, she wants nothing more than to return to New York. When the wickedly attractive Leo Murphy offers to teach her how to play cards, she assumes he merely wishes to admire her bosom. She’s half in love with him before the evening ends.
A wager that ruins them both.
One unforgettable night with Leo leaves Georgina compromised in both heart and body. Now she’s keeping secrets from everyone, especially from Leo.
His steps slowed as he caught sight of the faro table. Not because Larkin was nervously twitching, terrified he’d make a mistake in front of the Duke of Windmere who sat at his table. No, it was because of a slender back clad in powder-blue silk.
Gold ringlets hovered at the base of her neck. One had fallen loose, cascading down the creamy expanse of her left shoulder. Her head tilted to the right as she listened to something Larkin said. She smiled back at the dealer, answering him in a flat, nasal tone.
American.
Something stirred inside Leo, wholly unexpected at the sound of her, though it wasn’t the first time he’d heard an American speak. He came up behind her, taken aback by the soft aroma of wildflowers. An entire field of them.
Arousal, sharp and swift, wound its way down his thighs. And he hadn’t even gotten a look at her face. Then there was the insane urge to run his lips across her shoulder, maybe tug at that golden curl with his teeth.
Larkin looked over the woman’s shoulder, catching Leo’s eye. He dipped his head. “Mr. Murphy.”
“Everything going well this evening, Larkin?”
The young lady seemed uncaring of his presence so close to her. She didn’t turn or acknowledge him. Didn’t she know who he was?
Highly unusual. Everyone in Elysium knew who he was. Leo found himself intrigued. A rare occurrence and something for which the odds were very low.
“Very well, sir.” Larkin turned to Windmere.
Leo studied the delicate shape of the young lady’s profile as her brow wrinkled in concentration. She was very young. Barely out of the schoolroom. And yet, she displayed not an ounce of discomfort sitting at a faro table alone at a gambling hell. A glass of wine remained untouched at her elbow as she studied the cards in her hand.
“Perhaps I can be of assistance.” Leo took the seat next to her.
“I sincerely doubt that.” She didn’t turn in his direction; instead, her chin tilted so mulishly one might have thought she was bracing herself to take a punch to the jaw instead of being offered aid by a gentleman.
Defiant little thing. “Are you sure? I’m rather good at cards.”
“Hmm. So claims every other lord in here.” The neckline of her gown was almost indecent, giving Leo a glimpse of what was clearly a pair of magnificent breasts. “Gentlemen say such things,” she continued, “so that under the guise of looking at my cards to assist me, they might admire my bosom.” Her gaze slid to his waistcoat; she shivered with what appeared to be distaste before barely glancing at Leo’s face. Her attention returned to her cards. She was completely uninterested in him.
“Is this the way all Americans behave?” The odds of any female in Leo’s immediate vicinity ignoring him were incredibly low. That is to say, it never happened.
She turned to face him with a sigh of exasperation. “Very well. I can see you wish us to become acquainted and won’t leave me in peace until you accomplish your aim. I am Lady Masterson.”
About Kathleen Ayers
Kathleen Ayers is the bestselling author of Regency and Victorian romance with strong, witty damaged heroes who can’t help falling for intelligent, sassy heroines. An avid reader, Kathleen fell in love with historical romance as a teenager after picking up a copy of Sweet Savage Love. She reads everything, from romance to thrillers, Stephen King and fantasy. When her nose isn’t stuck in a book, Kathleen tries to garden (with mixed results), works on perfecting her charcuterie board skills and enjoys a good wine tasting.
A Texas transplant, Kathleen shares a backyard swimming pool with her husband, son and two very spoiled dogs.
Leo believes in playing the odds and is rarely surprised until he meets Georgina, the rebellious young bride of Lord Masterson. A game of cards quickly turns into an unforgettable night that leaves Georgina compromised in both heart and body. Fans of steamy historical and secret baby romances will devour The Wager of a Lady by Kathleen Ayers, the next book in the Beautiful Barringtons Series.
Blurb
A notorious bastard of a duke.
Leo Murphy believes in playing the odds, as long as the house wins. As the owner of Elysium, London’s most exclusive gambling hell, Leo’s existence depends on predicting his opponent’s next move. Rarely is he surprised. Until he meets the young bride of Lord Masterson losing at cards.
Georgina is beautiful, intelligent, possessed of a razor-sharp wit and a rebellious nature.
She is completely unexpected.
Leo is so struck by Georgina he doesn’t know whether to bed her or befriend her. He decides to do both.
A rebellious young American.
Wed to the scandalous and elderly Lord Masterson, Georgina detests London. Mocked for her accent and her family’s pedigree, she wants nothing more than to return to New York. When the wickedly attractive Leo Murphy offers to teach her how to play cards, she assumes he merely wishes to admire her bosom. She’s half in love with him before the evening ends.
A wager that ruins them both.
One unforgettable night with Leo leaves Georgina compromised in both heart and body. Now she’s keeping secrets from everyone, especially from Leo.
“Do you mind?” Leo pulled a cheroot out of his pocket without waiting for a response.
He flicked his wrist, lighting the end. The fragrant smoke spiraled up into the air above their heads, disappearing into the night. They sat in companionable silence for some time, with only the sound of the fountain.
“May I?” she said, holding out her hand for the cheroot.
He gave her an odd look but handed it over, the brush of his fingers against hers sending a tingle down her arm.
Georgina hadn’t indulged in a cheroot since coming to London and before, she’d only done so to shock whatever gentleman had produced it from his pocket. Ben, ever complicit in her bad behavior, had taught her one day when she was fifteen. Maybe sixteen. It became a small bit of rebellion to steal cheroots from her father’s study.
She took a short puff, blowing out a series of perfect smoke rings.
A sound came from Leo, sifting beneath her skirts like a wisp of the cheroot smoke, winding its way up her silken clad legs, identical to the sound he’d made when his head had been between her thighs.
“Quite a trick.” Taking the cheroot from her, he drew in the smoke then leaned over and caught his mouth against hers, blowing the smoke gently between her lips before breaking away.
Georgina immediately formed her mouth into an ‘O’ and blew another perfect ring of smoke into the night air. She turned with a wiggle of her brows to find his gaze fixed on her. “I have many talents.”
Tossing the cheroot, he ground it beneath his heel and reached for her before Georgina had a chance to move away. Fingers wrapping around the back of her neck, Leo pulled her close, mouth slanting against hers with exquisite tenderness.
“I still remember,” he whispered against her lips, “the first time I saw you. Powder blue silk, your dangerously low neckline edged in Belgian lace. I kept waiting for a nipple to pop out.”
“I wasn’t sure you even noticed I had a bosom.”
“I noticed everything about you. The way the silk of your gown rustled when you moved. The sound of your accent flattening every lovely word you spoke. Your scent, like something wild growing in the forest.”
“I told you.” Heat wafted off his body. “It is only soap.”
“I couldn’t take my eyes from you. I still can’t.” Leo leaned back, eyes shining with something that looked very much like anguish before he jerked his head away.
Kathleen Ayers is the bestselling author of Regency and Victorian romance with strong, witty damaged heroes who can’t help falling for intelligent, sassy heroines. An avid reader, Kathleen fell in love with historical romance as a teenager after picking up a copy of Sweet Savage Love. She reads everything, from romance to thrillers, Stephen King and fantasy. When her nose isn’t stuck in a book, Kathleen tries to garden (with mixed results), works on perfecting her charcuterie board skills and enjoys a good wine tasting.
A Texas transplant, Kathleen shares a backyard swimming pool with her husband, son and two very spoiled dogs.
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