But how close is the true villain?
Jackson Moreland has lived the last two years of his life in a personal hell after the brutal murder of his wife. Released from an asylum, he struggles to come to terms with his reality. When he is engaged by Scotland Yard to assist in learning the identity of the murderer of Whitechapel, everything changes the moment he meets Amaris. He knows something isn’t right and he’s determined to find out what it is.
As things progress between them and secrets are revealed amid their growing attraction, they begin to fear that the true threat may not be the Ripper after all.
“Did you know this garden was a gift from the Prince to the Queen?”
She turned toward the sound of the masculine voice. A man had been standing on the other side of the fountain, neatly hidden, but when he spoke, he strode into view. He was dressed as a gentleman, wearing a dark Inverness cape and a black felt top hat and carrying a cane, but it wasn’t his clothing, or even his even manner that caught her attention, although he was rather handsome, his masculine lips and profile easily discernable from a clean-shaven face. It was more the distant loneliness she saw in his brown gaze. It was easy for her to recognize, for it was likely mirrored in her own.
“Is it?” she returned softly, not used to conversing with anyone outside of her home. But as this man walked toward her, she couldn’t help the desire blossoming within her to extend their acquaintance.
“Indeed,” he concurred with a slightly crooked grin. “He was quite an accomplished gardener, and if you were to compare it to the design at Osborne House, you will find that they are rather similar.”
Amaris felt her cheeks warm. “It sounds romantic.”
He shrugged. “I suppose. If you are inclined to believe in love, that is.”
She tilted her head to the side. “You don’t?”
He stopped before her. This close she could see that there were some tiny golden flecks mixed with his dark eyes. “I used to think so.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest, causing her to place her palm there. She had never felt such a strange sensation before. Perhaps she was coming down with a new malady.
His voice was huskier than before when he said, “May I ask your name?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but another voice intruded. “Amaris! Come here at once!”
She looked at the edge of the gardens where Mrs. Brady was standing and looking none too pleased. She turned back to the stranger and offered a small shake of her head. “I’m sorry. I must go.”
She didn’t wait for a reply, but lifted her skirts and rushed away.
She turned toward the sound of the masculine voice. A man had been standing on the other side of the fountain, neatly hidden, but when he spoke, he strode into view. He was dressed as a gentleman, wearing a dark Inverness cape and a black felt top hat and carrying a cane, but it wasn’t his clothing, or even his even manner that caught her attention, although he was rather handsome, his masculine lips and profile easily discernable from a clean-shaven face. It was more the distant loneliness she saw in his brown gaze. It was easy for her to recognize, for it was likely mirrored in her own.
“Is it?” she returned softly, not used to conversing with anyone outside of her home. But as this man walked toward her, she couldn’t help the desire blossoming within her to extend their acquaintance.
“Indeed,” he concurred with a slightly crooked grin. “He was quite an accomplished gardener, and if you were to compare it to the design at Osborne House, you will find that they are rather similar.”
Amaris felt her cheeks warm. “It sounds romantic.”
He shrugged. “I suppose. If you are inclined to believe in love, that is.”
She tilted her head to the side. “You don’t?”
He stopped before her. This close she could see that there were some tiny golden flecks mixed with his dark eyes. “I used to think so.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest, causing her to place her palm there. She had never felt such a strange sensation before. Perhaps she was coming down with a new malady.
His voice was huskier than before when he said, “May I ask your name?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but another voice intruded. “Amaris! Come here at once!”
She looked at the edge of the gardens where Mrs. Brady was standing and looking none too pleased. She turned back to the stranger and offered a small shake of her head. “I’m sorry. I must go.”
She didn’t wait for a reply, but lifted her skirts and rushed away.
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It wasn’t until 30 years and 63 rejections later that her debut novel, “Why the Earl is After the Girl,” the first book in her Ways of Love series was picked up for publication in July 2016 to critical acclaim, winning the 2017 Best Indie Book Award in Romance and the Second Place Feathered Quill Book Award in 2018 for Romance. "Where the Viscount Met His Match" was a 2019 romance finalist in the International Book Awards, and a 2019 romance finalist in the Book Excellence Awards. "When a Duke Pursues a Lady" was a romance finalist in the 2018 Book Talk Radio Club Awards, and "Who the Marquess Dares to Desire" was a 2019 Raven Awards finalist.
When she’s not writing, Tabetha is reading as true bookworms do, checking out any flea market, antique mall, or doll show she comes across, and working as a lunch lady at the local community college. She is a certified PAN member of the RWA.
You can find her on most any social media site and she encourages any fans of her work to join her mailing list to learn more about upcoming novels or events.
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ReplyDeleteI like the excerpt.
ReplyDeleteExcerpt sounds good.
ReplyDeleteSounds really great
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