But when Muriel, Dowager Countess of Claremont, learns of Sir Robert’s intended destination, she begs a favor…to watch over an “errant child” who is the grandniece of her good friend living in the resort town. Little does Robbie know that Miss Chastity Reynolds is no child but a beautiful hoyden who is seemingly immune to his charms.
Chastity lives in the shadow of her mother and sisters, dark-haired beauties men admire. Her first Season was a failure but, as she will soon come into a family legacy, she has no need to wed. When she first encounters Sir Robert, she dubs him The Rogue, certain he indulges in a profligate lifestyle she wants no part in.
In Brighton, Robbie discovers he is being followed by friends of the conspirators who had planned to murder the Cabinet. Worse, they know the location of Chastity's residence.
Grillon’s Hotel, London, 1820
“I’ll return in a moment,” said Chastity as she rose from the table where she and Rose dined in their shared room.
Rose looked up, her fork paused in midair. “Are you going out…alone? You’re not dressed for town.”
Chastity considered her drab brown cotton gown that she had changed into thinking she would remain in their room. “No one will see me save the desk clerk to whom I will direct my inquiry.” The carriage ride to London had been plagued with muddy roads and much rain, and the drafty lobby had left her chilled. The fire kindled for them had begun to warm her but a glass of sherry would go far to completing the process.
“Do you wish me to accompany you?” Rose cast a look of longing at what remained of her braised veal.
“Nay finish your meal,” Chastity said, crossing the room to the door.
“Hurry back,” urged Rose. “I peeked under the silver dome that hides the sweetmeats. A most delectable selection.”
“They will go well with what I have in mind.” As she reached for the door handle, Crispin, who had been curled up before the fire, raised his head and opened his golden eyes briefly considering her before returning to his nap. The bumpy carriage ride to London had not been to his liking either.
Closing the door behind her, Chastity entered the corridor devoid of heat. She drew her shawl tightly around her and hurried downstairs to the lobby. She was dismayed to find no one at the front desk.
A single footman stood just inside the hotel’s entrance. She hastened toward him. As she did, she collided with a hard body, the impact forcing the air from her lungs. Stunned, she backed away, trying not to fall. With her eyes downcast, she placed her hand over her racing heart.
The first thing she noticed as she looked up from the tiled floor was a pair of black Hessian boots polished to a high gloss with a silver-white braid circling the top, ending in shimmering tassels. Boots that could only have been the creation of George Hoby, the first bootmaker in London, who had acquired a few of her father’s designs.
From the boots, her gaze traveled up long, muscular thighs encased in tight buckskin breeches. Hands fisted on narrow hips and an impatient sigh suggested he thought her in the wrong.
Impudent man! Oaf! He had run into her!
Her scrutiny continued up to the black claw-hammer coat he wore over a cinnamon suede waistcoat. His cravat was simply tied yet stylish.
“Well, Miss, have you had your fill of me?” he said in an amused tone.
Chastity met hazel eyes rimmed with green and pierced with shards of gold. A chiseled face with a strong jaw was framed by wavy dark brown hair and trim side-whiskers. Altogether an attractive man if she didn’t consider his smirk.
She could not abide men who thought themselves desired by all females, which he clearly did.
“What?” she said, her voice dripping sarcasm. “Is there to be no apology, no begging my forgiveness for nearly knocking a lady off her feet?”
“A lady?” His gaze boldly traveled the length of her. “If you be a lady, you are a very pretty lady, indeed.”
She glared at him, dismissing his compliment as insincere, one he likely gave to all women to whom he liberally doled out his charm. She would not be diverted by such undeserved flattery. “Pretty or plain makes no difference, sir. A gentleman who causes distress to a lady will make amends.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, Miss, but whatever were you thinking darting across the lobby without a care of where you were going?”
So, there was to be no apology. Worse, a scold. “I knew very well where I was going, sir. It was you who apparently did not.”
“Very well,” he inclined his head, “if you insist. Allow me to make amends.”
Without warning, he took her by the waist and forcibly drew her to his chest, pressing his lips to hers in a burning, invasive kiss that left her breathless and her lips throbbing.
When he finally released her, she backed away, stunned, and covered her pulsing lips with her fingertips. Never had she been kissed in such a manner. And in front of a footman!
Before she could say a word, the arrogant rogue turned on his heels, crossed the lobby and disappeared through the door to the coffee house. The scent of cigar smoke wafted to her nostrils, making her grateful she had no business there.
Pressing her lips together, she fisted her hands and glared daggers at the door, imagining it was his back.
A moment passed as she made an effort to restore her calm demeanor. She ignored the footman, who stood like a statue next to the door.
At the front desk, she was pleased to see the clerk returning to his post.
She had meant to ask for two glasses of sherry but her encounter with the cad made her choice clear. “Sherry, if you please, a full bottle, delivered to my room.”
She would need more than one glass to forget the man’s arrogant kiss.
“I’ll return in a moment,” said Chastity as she rose from the table where she and Rose dined in their shared room.
Rose looked up, her fork paused in midair. “Are you going out…alone? You’re not dressed for town.”
Chastity considered her drab brown cotton gown that she had changed into thinking she would remain in their room. “No one will see me save the desk clerk to whom I will direct my inquiry.” The carriage ride to London had been plagued with muddy roads and much rain, and the drafty lobby had left her chilled. The fire kindled for them had begun to warm her but a glass of sherry would go far to completing the process.
“Do you wish me to accompany you?” Rose cast a look of longing at what remained of her braised veal.
“Nay finish your meal,” Chastity said, crossing the room to the door.
“Hurry back,” urged Rose. “I peeked under the silver dome that hides the sweetmeats. A most delectable selection.”
“They will go well with what I have in mind.” As she reached for the door handle, Crispin, who had been curled up before the fire, raised his head and opened his golden eyes briefly considering her before returning to his nap. The bumpy carriage ride to London had not been to his liking either.
Closing the door behind her, Chastity entered the corridor devoid of heat. She drew her shawl tightly around her and hurried downstairs to the lobby. She was dismayed to find no one at the front desk.
A single footman stood just inside the hotel’s entrance. She hastened toward him. As she did, she collided with a hard body, the impact forcing the air from her lungs. Stunned, she backed away, trying not to fall. With her eyes downcast, she placed her hand over her racing heart.
The first thing she noticed as she looked up from the tiled floor was a pair of black Hessian boots polished to a high gloss with a silver-white braid circling the top, ending in shimmering tassels. Boots that could only have been the creation of George Hoby, the first bootmaker in London, who had acquired a few of her father’s designs.
From the boots, her gaze traveled up long, muscular thighs encased in tight buckskin breeches. Hands fisted on narrow hips and an impatient sigh suggested he thought her in the wrong.
Impudent man! Oaf! He had run into her!
Her scrutiny continued up to the black claw-hammer coat he wore over a cinnamon suede waistcoat. His cravat was simply tied yet stylish.
“Well, Miss, have you had your fill of me?” he said in an amused tone.
Chastity met hazel eyes rimmed with green and pierced with shards of gold. A chiseled face with a strong jaw was framed by wavy dark brown hair and trim side-whiskers. Altogether an attractive man if she didn’t consider his smirk.
She could not abide men who thought themselves desired by all females, which he clearly did.
“What?” she said, her voice dripping sarcasm. “Is there to be no apology, no begging my forgiveness for nearly knocking a lady off her feet?”
“A lady?” His gaze boldly traveled the length of her. “If you be a lady, you are a very pretty lady, indeed.”
She glared at him, dismissing his compliment as insincere, one he likely gave to all women to whom he liberally doled out his charm. She would not be diverted by such undeserved flattery. “Pretty or plain makes no difference, sir. A gentleman who causes distress to a lady will make amends.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, Miss, but whatever were you thinking darting across the lobby without a care of where you were going?”
So, there was to be no apology. Worse, a scold. “I knew very well where I was going, sir. It was you who apparently did not.”
“Very well,” he inclined his head, “if you insist. Allow me to make amends.”
Without warning, he took her by the waist and forcibly drew her to his chest, pressing his lips to hers in a burning, invasive kiss that left her breathless and her lips throbbing.
When he finally released her, she backed away, stunned, and covered her pulsing lips with her fingertips. Never had she been kissed in such a manner. And in front of a footman!
Before she could say a word, the arrogant rogue turned on his heels, crossed the lobby and disappeared through the door to the coffee house. The scent of cigar smoke wafted to her nostrils, making her grateful she had no business there.
Pressing her lips together, she fisted her hands and glared daggers at the door, imagining it was his back.
A moment passed as she made an effort to restore her calm demeanor. She ignored the footman, who stood like a statue next to the door.
At the front desk, she was pleased to see the clerk returning to his post.
She had meant to ask for two glasses of sherry but her encounter with the cad made her choice clear. “Sherry, if you please, a full bottle, delivered to my room.”
She would need more than one glass to forget the man’s arrogant kiss.
💕 Click here to learn more 💕
💕 Click here to learn more 💕
 |
“A sea adventure like no other, a riveting romance!” – SHIRLEE BUSBEE, NY Times Bestselling author
Paris 1782…AN INNOCENT IS TAKEN All Claire Donet knew was the world inside the convent walls in Saint-Denis. She had no idea her beloved papa was a pirate. But when he seized Simon Powell's schooner, the English privateer decided to take the thing his enemy held most dear...her. A BATTLE IS JOINED The waters between France and England roil with the clashes of Claire's father and her captor as the last year of the American Revolution rages on the sea, spies lurk in Paris and Claire’s passion for the English captain rises. |
 |
“A dazzling mix of passion, adventure, mystery and love.” ~ Breath of Life Reviews
Hugh Redgrave, Marquess of Ormond, hides his true identity as the legendary Nighthawk—the thief of Napoleon's most valued secrets—behind his life as a horseman and a rake. Returning to England after years in France, he knows he must choose a wife from among the ingénues who appear each year at the ton, but he hopes to avoid what will be an arranged marriage for as long as he can. When Lady Mary Campbell rides across his path on a magnificent black stallion, he is enthralled. Independent, intelligent and rebellious, Lady Mary is bored by the prospect of her first Season. A bluestocking hoyden, she craves adventure and loves the world of her statesman uncle, who is often called upon by the Crown for difficult tasks. When her uncle leaves for Paris, she goes with him. But, once there, who should appear in King Louis’ court but the mysterious Lord Ormond? Lady Mary fears her growing fascination with the rake and resents his interference with her plan to uncover the truth behind a treacherous plot to take down the newly restored Bourbon king. |
 |
"A fabulous tale with exciting twists and turns reflecting a little-known event in England's history and, at its heart, a wonderful love story." - NY Times Bestselling author Shirlee Busbee
"Walker unfolds her multi-faceted story with expert pacing, some very good dialogue, and an excellent attention to detail, and her Sir Martin is a memorably interesting hero, as tough as he is gentle." - Historical Novel Society "Ms. Walker has the rare ability to make you forget you are reading a book--she brings you into the world of Regency and you're there in the midst of the action. The characters become real, the modern world fades away, and all that is left is the intrigue, drama, and romance that is this time period." - Straight from the Library "There is romance, more political intrigue, heartbreak and so much love in this book that you will not be able to put it down...a MUST READ for any fan of this genre!!" - The Reading Café "...more passionate and more dangerous than it's predecessor." - Adria's Romance Reviews |
 |
A salty, sweeping, evocative tale of romance on the high seas--and a good old-fashioned love story that will keep you up far, far past yourbedtime.
A British privateer and an American hoyden clash on the high seas as they tangle with a notorious pirate...and attempt to resist the rising tide of passion between them. A PERILOUS PASSAGE Ordered by the Prince Regent into the Caribbean, English sea captain and former privateer Jean Nicholas Powell has no time for women aboard the Wind Raven, especially not Tara McConnell. The impudent American demanded passage, and so she'll get more than she bargained for: Instead of a direct sail to Baltimore, she'll join his quest to investigate and neutralize the rampaging pirate Roberto Cofresi. But the hoyden thinks she can crew with his men! And though Nick bans her from the rigging he is captivated watching her lithe, luscious movements on deck. Facing high seas, storms, cutthroats and the endless unknown, he must always protect his ship, his passengers, his crew. But on this voyage, with this woman, there is a greater danger: to his heart. "A salty, sweeping, evocative tale of romance on the high seas--and a good old-fashioned love story that will keep you up far, far past your bedtime. So, reach for the coffee. Brava for Regan Walker!" --Danelle Harmon, New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author |
 |
Spies and Scots and Shipmasters, oh my!
Scotland 1819 ~ Twin brothers Nash and Robbie Powell of Powell & Sons Shipping, London, sail with their fellow Agents of the Crown to Scotland for a secret celebration of Christmastide, a holiday long frowned upon by the Scottish Kirk. But more than Christmas is being kept secret. The two brothers have accepted an assignment from the Home Secretary Lord Sidmouth to ferret out a fugitive fomenting rebellion among the Scots. Aileen Stephen, the only daughter of an Aberdeen shipbuilder, had to be clever, devious and determined to gain her place in the family business. She succeeded to become a designer of highly coveted ships. One night, a man’s handsome face appears to her in a dream. When two men having that same face arrive on a ship full of Londoners, Ailie wonders what her second sight is telling her. Is the face she saw a portender of the future, a harbinger of danger, or both? And which of the two Englishmen is the one in her dream? Older than Nash by a mere five minutes, Robbie has always been protective of his twin. When he realizes Nash is attracted to the sister of their Scottish host, he thinks to help matters along. But Nash wants no help from his brother, not where Ailie Stephen is concerned because Robbie is attracted to the girl himself! Two brothers vie for the affection of the Scottish lass but only one stirs her passion. Which one will it be? And what will she do when she learns they are spies? |
Win a $25 Amazon gift card!
💕 Click Here to Follow the Tour 💕
(Visit a new blog each day & earn more entries in the Rafflecopter!)
💕 Below is a third-party ad. Click it if you like it, ignore it if you don't! 💕
(I receive a tiny commission if you click on an ad.)
Thanks so much for the grand display in the feature for Rogue's Holiday. I so appreciate it!
ReplyDeleteRegan
Fantastic cover. I really like the lace choker
ReplyDeletedifferent
ReplyDeleteI like the covers. They’re very romantic.
ReplyDeleteLovely covers!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Karin, Jeanna and Leonie. I'm so glad you like my book covers! I hope you like the books, too.
ReplyDeleteI have no questions for the author.
ReplyDeleteRogues Holiday is now on my wish list! (I really need to read Ms Walker's books that are on my TBR).
ReplyDeleteI totally agree, Glenda! I hope you read them, too!
DeleteSounds really good
ReplyDeleteyour covers are Hot!
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you like them, Stacey.
Delete