For nearly a decade, Drake Ramsey, the disciplined and logical Earl of Saint Brides, has been the driving force behind the Home Office; meeting with foreign leaders to negotiate treaties, spurring a lethargic Parliament into action, and directing a secret army of spies. The last thing he wants to find while taking a well-deserved vacation is a dangerous fugitive. Nevertheless, when he catches a beautiful murderess hiding in his hunting cabin, he has little choice but to bring her to justice, landing himself in a battle for control he could never hope to win.
…meets a woman determined to prove him wrong.
Marrying a stranger simply to gain access to her dowry and travel the world, admittedly, was the biggest mistake of Sarah Tindall’s life. In fact, she would readily admit to making several big mistakes. Killing her husband, however, is not one of them. When a starchy lord takes it upon himself to bring her to a London prison, she is determined to escape him and prove her innocence, yet every attempt ends with her back in her handsome captor’s arms. Even if her innocence is proven, his forbidden and passionate kisses leave her uncertain if escape was ever an option.
*WARNING*
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters portrayed in this ebook are eighteen years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence, and explicit language offends you.
**Can easily be read as a standalone!**
What can we expect from you in the future?
I’m currently finishing up a novella to complete the Lords of Whitehall series, giving Pritchard an HEA with his mistress. After that I’m starting a new series called Desperate Dukes.
How to find time to write as a parent?
My kids are both in school now, so after I drop them off in the morning I get to come back home and write until I have to pick them up in the afternoon. Unfortunately, there are lots of other things I need to do during that time, like cleaning the house, doing laundry, grocery shopping, and random errands. So I really only get to write a few hours a day, at most…if I’m lucky.
Advice they would give new authors?
Write whenever you get the opportunity, and especially when inspiration strikes. Read constantly and pay attention to how your favorite authors put their words together. You can learn a lot just from paying attention to what you’re reading. Here’s the kicker, though. Don’t get discouraged when what you’ve written is awful. Everyone starts somewhere, and you’ll never improve unless you acknowledge where you’re at as an author, and then work to be better.
I’m currently finishing up a novella to complete the Lords of Whitehall series, giving Pritchard an HEA with his mistress. After that I’m starting a new series called Desperate Dukes.
How to find time to write as a parent?
My kids are both in school now, so after I drop them off in the morning I get to come back home and write until I have to pick them up in the afternoon. Unfortunately, there are lots of other things I need to do during that time, like cleaning the house, doing laundry, grocery shopping, and random errands. So I really only get to write a few hours a day, at most…if I’m lucky.
Advice they would give new authors?
Write whenever you get the opportunity, and especially when inspiration strikes. Read constantly and pay attention to how your favorite authors put their words together. You can learn a lot just from paying attention to what you’re reading. Here’s the kicker, though. Don’t get discouraged when what you’ve written is awful. Everyone starts somewhere, and you’ll never improve unless you acknowledge where you’re at as an author, and then work to be better.
“You will what, exactly?” he asked, standing directly in front of her. He bent down, bracing his hands on the bed on either side of her, lowering his face mere inches from hers. “Will you shoot me, Sarah?”
She stared back in shock. She could almost taste her name on his lips and feel the roughness of his voice as the syllables rolled off his tongue like a caress. The taste of danger, of touchable power, was almost too tempting to ignore. With it swirled a completely alien feeling in her gut. It burned in her belly and tingled over her skin.
He leaned in, forcing her farther back on the bed. The hint of cologne he had worn the day before mixed with the heady scent that was uniquely him, surrounded her. Eyes that were far too green bore into hers, intelligent eyes with a challenge looming behind them. His square, stubble-covered jaw matched the tousled tuffs of chestnut falling over his forehead and the dark slashes above his eyes.
She remembered how easily he had carried her more than two miles and what he had done to the blacksmith, but his mind was just as threatening as his body. Now both of them were focused solely on her. It thrilled and frightened her, and in that moment, she realized how truly dangerous the man could be.
“Well?” he murmured, his breath caressing her lips.
“I haven’t a gun at the moment.” Her voice trembled.
His mouth twitched. “Of course not. What sort of stuffy, self-important lord would I be if I went around handing out pistols to every violent American I met?”
Sarah scowled. “You are laughing at me again.”
When his glittering eyes roamed her face, it was as though the shutter had finally opened, exposing the roaring fire beneath. A fire unlike anything she had ever seen. It left a trail of heat across her skin, and deeper. She felt it twist and burn inside her, as though her soul was responding to his.
“I have never laughed at you,” he murmured, the low timbre like warm sherry.
She stared back in shock. She could almost taste her name on his lips and feel the roughness of his voice as the syllables rolled off his tongue like a caress. The taste of danger, of touchable power, was almost too tempting to ignore. With it swirled a completely alien feeling in her gut. It burned in her belly and tingled over her skin.
He leaned in, forcing her farther back on the bed. The hint of cologne he had worn the day before mixed with the heady scent that was uniquely him, surrounded her. Eyes that were far too green bore into hers, intelligent eyes with a challenge looming behind them. His square, stubble-covered jaw matched the tousled tuffs of chestnut falling over his forehead and the dark slashes above his eyes.
She remembered how easily he had carried her more than two miles and what he had done to the blacksmith, but his mind was just as threatening as his body. Now both of them were focused solely on her. It thrilled and frightened her, and in that moment, she realized how truly dangerous the man could be.
“Well?” he murmured, his breath caressing her lips.
“I haven’t a gun at the moment.” Her voice trembled.
His mouth twitched. “Of course not. What sort of stuffy, self-important lord would I be if I went around handing out pistols to every violent American I met?”
Sarah scowled. “You are laughing at me again.”
When his glittering eyes roamed her face, it was as though the shutter had finally opened, exposing the roaring fire beneath. A fire unlike anything she had ever seen. It left a trail of heat across her skin, and deeper. She felt it twist and burn inside her, as though her soul was responding to his.
“I have never laughed at you,” he murmured, the low timbre like warm sherry.
❤️ Click on the image to learn more ❤️
For the latest on Kristen McLean's book releases, events, and giveaways subscribe to her newsletter at kmromance.com
Win a $10 Amazon gift card!
Congrats on the tour, the book is a must-read, and thanks for the chance to win )
ReplyDeleteIt sounds awesome! Thanks for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteThis sounds amazing, thanks for sharing :)
ReplyDeleteThe Lords of Whitehall Series sounds awesome. Thank you
ReplyDeleteStumbling across a beautiful murderess is the kind of luck I usually have.
ReplyDeleteThis sounds Great !
ReplyDelete