A to Z: Kissing Scenes

You may as well know up front, writing kissing scenes makes me blush. Which is why when I'm working with my writing partner, I will typically set her up to write them. Works out. She rocks the kissing scenes.

Sometimes though, she makes me do one... I think she's trying to stretch me, but she might just be messing with me because she likes to see me cringe when I write one.

Here are some of our kissing scenes from the Waltzing with the Wallflower series (See if you can tell which of us wrote what):

from Waltzing with the Wallflower (Book 1)

Her breath hitched. He noticed, because the instant it happened his eyes darted to her parted lips. He leaned in, lightly inviting her mouth to taste his. She seemed unsure, frozen in place. He lifted her chin and ever so gently brushed a light kiss across her lips. If lightning would have struck him where he stood, he wouldn’t have been shocked, for the minute her innocent lips came into contact with his, he was a changed man.

An electric current hummed between their bodies. Without asking permission or thinking of their current situation, or the bet for that matter, he laid claim to her lips again. She didn’t push against him. Instead she sighed as he pressed his body against hers and used his tongue to part her lips further. Lust shot through him at alarming speed as Cordelia let out a sensual sigh, entangling her fingers into his hair. With a little tug, she had his complete devotion and attention. In fact, he was quite ready to ruin her and be done with it. Tentatively, she tasted him as he had her. At that moment the fires of Hades couldn’t have put a stop to his sensual exploration of her mouth. His hands slid down her waist memorizing every line of her body…

“Ahem, I can see I’m interrupting. Good thing too, considering the circumstances.”

from Beguiling Bridget (Book 2)

“Many gentlemen feel as I do. They simply lack the courage to confess it aloud.” He was moving toward her now, and she felt trapped as she tried in vain to inch away from him, finally finding herself backed up to a cold marble column. “You might find this hard to believe, but men are often afraid intelligent women will reject them.”

“And yet they keep trying. Don’t they, my lord?” He was too close. He was far too close. No matter what he said, Bridget promised herself she would not concede the field. Defense strategy. That is what she needed. And the best defense was often a good offense.

She offered him a sinfully sweet smile and waited for him to stop in his tracks. He didn’t. Instead, he sauntered closer, slow but constant, until his face was inches from hers. Her breath quickened, and suddenly it seemed that air was in short supply even outside on the balcony.

“Yes, some of us don’t understand the word defeat.”

“Even when it comes in the form of strawberries?” Bridget asked, fighting to control her breathing as the man drew nearer.

“Even when the lady threatens to push us in front of oncoming carriages and feed us the most grotesque fruit known to mankind. Even then, my lady. Even then.” His smile dazzled her as he inclined his head and bestowed a soft lingering kiss on her lips.

The warm sensation of his tender kiss seeped into her bones. His lips were soft and hypnotic as they lightly moved across hers. A battle raged within her, and she couldn’t decide if she should pull him closer or slap him across his perfect aristocratic face. So she waited, hoping the answer would come on its own.

She didn’t have to wait long. As he withdrew, the victorious sparkle in his eye and the triumphant smirk spreading wide across his lips brought her the realization — he thought he’d won.

And then her hand flew on its own.

from Taming Wilde (Book 3)

“I may be a fool, but at least I am not a coward.” Her eyes narrowed. She leaned forward, her chin nearly resting on his chest.

“Coward?” Minutes ago Colin had wanted to kill Anthony; now he was grateful, for at least he knew how to use his rakish charms against Gemma. Allow her to believe in his cool indifference when really all he wanted to do was reach out and touch her, pull her into his arms and never let go.

“Yes, I believe that is what I said. You are a coward.” Gemma’s blue eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

“I see.” Colin slowly inhaled her scent and reached to tilt her chin toward his mouth. Before he lost his nerve, he crushed his lips against hers, relishing the memory of their first kiss. The day that changed everything. The day she abandoned him and chose her family over love.

Her mouth was so soft, softer than he remembered. It was everything he wanted — everything he needed. For a minute the darkness didn’t seem so dark. The hole seemed not so deep. But it was an illusion, for she could not be trusted — not as a friend and surely not as a lover. She would stomp on whatever was left of his heart and leave him in utter darkness, even deeper in the hole of his own making.

With a laugh, he pushed her away. “Still as innocent as I remember. Thank you for reminding me, dear Gemma.”

She stared at him in breathless shock. “Reminding you of what?”

“What I’m missing, of course.”

Release Day: Taming Wilde!

Being level-headed and even-keeled is a thing of the past. Sir Colin Wilde’s broken heart has sent him over the edge. And he is convinced the only way to get over the loss of Lady Gemma is to lose himself in debauchery.

Taking his cue from the private bachelor journal of Viscount Maddox, he presses forward in his quest to become the most notorious rake the ton has ever seen.

Prim and proper Lady Gemma isn't about to let him soil his reputation, especially over a misunderstanding. In spite of the propriety ingrained in her since birth, she throws convention to the wind and sets about to do the impossible... seduce a rake and tame Wilde.

AVAILABLE TODAY from these sellers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Astraea Press

Also available, the first two books in the trilogy:

     

Leave a comment below to be entered into the drawing for 1 of 3 Wallflower swag packs!

(Be sure to leave contact information.)

Thanks for stopping by to help us celebrate our newest release!

Another Look: Lady Gemma Reynolds

Lady Gemma Reynolds

An accomplished pianist and well-bred gentlewoman of the ton, Lady Gemma has spent her life endeavoring to be the perfect lady, the perfect daughter, the perfect sister. The very thought of scandal makes her blood burn with embarrassment.

When her family pressures her to marry someone she has never met... an old duke with lots of money, she rejects the idea with every fiber of her being.

Lady Gemma is in love with someone else. A man her family would never approve.

Taming Wilde, the third installment of the Waltzing with the Wallflower trilogy, is releasing tomorrow! Look for it on Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

Sweet Saturday: Gemma's One Regret

Gemma scanned the room for a glimpse of Sir Wilde. Her brother had only just allowed her to return to London this week. For whatever reason, he had convinced her parents of the necessity of the prolonged absence. They fully agreed that she should retire to the country estate for a time, to recuperate from her episode with the man they deemed below her station.

She wished she had never told her lady’s maid of what had transpired between her and Sir Wilde. The disloyal girl had turned right around and passed the information directly to Gemma’s brother, Hawke. Enraged, he had stormed from the house to find the offending gentleman to teach him some manners.

To Gemma’s recollection, Wilde’s manner was altogether perfect. She closed her eyes and remembered, replaying the stolen moments they had shared. A wistful sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it.

“My lady, please,” Hawke whispered beside her, tightening his grasp on her arm. “Remember yourself.”

“I am remembering, my lord.” She cast a sidelong glance at her brother and wriggled her arm against his grip. “If you don’t mind, I am quite certain I no longer require your assistance, and you are hurting me.”

His cold stare warned her against giving any sign of impropriety.

Hawke knew what buttons to push with Gemma. Her sense of propriety was ingrained in every fiber of her being. In fact, it was that cursed sense that had mortified her so desperately when she and Wilde had first been caught in the embrace. She’d reacted with utter shame and disgrace at the time. But her long visit to Brookshire had given her ample time to consider the matter.

Looking back on it, Gemma was certain the only thing she would have done differently was insisting Wilde lock the door. That would have solved everything.

Sweet Saturday: Taming Wilde

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I bid you goodnight."

The words cut like a hot blade straight into her heart. The memory of his lips burned on hers, but his eyes were smoldering dark steel.

Gemma could say nothing to him in response. The thick emotion in her throat made speech impossible, even if she could piece together a suitable response. They say the line between love and hate is a thin one. Colin had crossed over. She saw it in his eyes. He hated her. And she hated that she loved him still.

Swallowing back the inevitable sob, Gemma spun on her heel and fled.

She couldn’t stay there. Not another moment. She would find Hawke and make him take her home.

Back inside the ballroom, she scanned the dancers for signs of her brother. He was nowhere to be seen. Twirling about, she searched the outskirts of the room. Again, no Hawke.

The irony served only to nauseate her further. He had been keeping such a close eye on her every moment, so much so that he had suggested following her to the ladies’ lounge, and yet now when she truly needed him, he had disappeared into oblivion.

Groaning inwardly, she knew she would have to return to the corridor. She only hoped she would not encounter Colin once more. With a deep breath, she resolved to find her brother, no matter what it took.

Perhaps if she hadn’t been so lost in her despair, she would have sensed someone behind her before turning abruptly, slamming straight into the broad chest of Lord Maddox, the husband of Gemma’s bosom friend, Bridget. He grunted at the impact.

“Pardon me, my lady,” he muttered breathlessly.

“Oh Lord Maddox! I am so sorry!” Gemma felt overwrought. All she wanted was to find her brother and leave that place.

“Lady Gemma?” He grasped her elbow to steady her on her feet. “Are you injured?”

“No, my lord. Only embarrassed. I should have taken more care with my direction.”

“No harm done, my dear.” Lord Maddox glanced around them as though searching out the reason for her haste. “Is anything amiss? You seem rather distraught.”

“Everything is well. I was just on my way to find my brother. Have you seen Lord Van Burge, perchance?”

“Yes, indeed. I just came from the tables where I persuaded him to take my place in the game. He is there still. May I escort you to him?”

“No. Thank you, my lord. I can manage.” He released her and nodded, but as he stepped away, a sudden fear gripped Gemma. If she were to meet with Colin again, she would be alone. She needed someone to provide a buffer between her heart and the man’s scorn. “Lord Maddox!” Her voice faltered into a frantic squeak.

He spun around to face her. His expression betrayed his concern. “Yes?”

“I… I would like you to escort me. Thank you. For offering.”

Sweet Saturday: A Challenge

"Get up. Get up, you wretched cur!" Van Burge's eyes were alive with fury. He threaded his fingers into Colin's cravat and tugged him roughly up from the floor. "You and I will settle this. Today! Else I shall have you descried a coward! In one hour, Jackson's. Do not fail." He spat every word into Colin's face, as he gripped him by the throat.

Van Burge released Colin with an emphatic shove, then he spun on his heel and stormed out, spewing threats and curses all the way.

"Lovely," Colin moaned and swiped at the blood dripping from his lip with the back of his hand.

Two hands appeared before him, no doubt a belated offer of futile help from the traitors he once called friends.

Colin lifted his eyes to the double image of Hawthorne and Maddox, the treacherous twin spawn of Satan. He shook his head and took one of the offered hands.

"Van Burge seems in earnest," Maddox said. An irritating mocking smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

"In earnest, Anthony? Truly? Whatever gave you that idea?" Hawthorne snorted with disdain.

"What will you do?" Maddox ignored his brother and bit straight into the heart of the matter.

"Do? Why, I shall go home, set my affairs in order, and make my way to Jackson's for the bloodbath."

"You mean to go through with it then?" Hawthorne asked. Concern was etched in his expression.

"Of course. What alternative do I have?"

~Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)

Another Look: Sir Colin Wilde

Sir Colin Wilde

Being level-headed and even-keeled is a thing of the past. His broken heart has sent him over the edge. And he is convinced the only way to get over the loss of Lady Gemma is to lose himself in debauchery.

Taking his cue from the private bachelor journal of Viscount Maddox, he presses forward in his quest to become the most notorious rake the ton has ever seen.

Will Lady Gemma manage to do the impossible — coax him back to sanity and tame his wild heart?

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas

My true love gave to me...

FROM THE COVER:

Waltzing with the Wallflower

The Season has only just begun, but already Ambrose Benson is bored…until his brother offers him a challenge. Something worthy of his particular talents.

The object: The girl hiding behind the plants—the one in the horrible dress.

The goal: Turn her into the envy of the ton. A lady suitable for a duke.

But there is just something about the lady—in spite of all her social misgivings—something that draws him like a moth to flame and makes him want to waltz with the wallflower.

Beguiling Bridget

Driven to distraction by the redhead across the room, Anthony Benson barely hears the terms of his brother’s challenge before agreeing to them.

No matter. It will be easy. Viscount Maddox has never had any problem impressing the ladies. And four weeks is more than enough time to win over this so obviously neglected wallflower.

But things are never as easy as they seem.

The lady has lofty aspirations. And not one of them includes love or marriage. Especially not with an arrogant and self-assured playboy like the viscount. No matter how attractive he may be.

Taming Wilde

Being level-headed and even-keeled is a thing of the past. Sir Colin Wilde’s broken heart has sent him over the edge. And he is convinced the only way to get over the loss of Lady Gemma is to lose himself in debauchery.

Taking his cue from the private bachelor journal of Viscount Maddox, he presses forward in his quest to become the most notorious rake the ton has ever seen.

Prim and proper Lady Gemma isn't about to let him soil his reputation, especially over a misunderstanding. In spite of the propriety ingrained in her since birth, she throws convention to the wind and sets about to do the impossible... seduce a rake and tame Wilde.

*****

Wanna be in the drawing for this series? Just leave a comment below with a way to get a hold of you. I'll draw a winner at midnight and post the result on tomorrow's giveaway. (Taming Wilde is yet to be released, but you will receive the third book as soon as it is available.) Be sure to come back again tomorrow for another 12 days giveaway!

Beguiling Bridget Release Party

The long awaited sequel to USA Today Bestselling Waltzing with the Wallflower has arrived! Don't miss Anthony and Bridget's story! Rachel and I are so excited about this new release, we decided to celebrate with a giant giveaway! There are prizes and chances to win on both of our blogs, as well as things to do on our Facebook pages. You can test your knowledge of Waltzing with the Wallflower, Ambrose and Cordelia's story, with trivia questions, suggest ideas for the title of Wilde and Gemma's story, access buy links, and more!

Enter the giveaway for my blog below. Then go visit Rachel's blog and enter hers too! Double your chances at winning!




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PURCHASE YOUR COPY HERE:Astraea PressAmazonBarnes & Noble
Meet the Characters:AnthonyBridgetWildeGemma

Beguiling Bridget Teaser:

They walked in awkward silence all the way to the end of the block. Bridget stopped at the house on the corner and followed the path to the front door, and without knocking she let herself in.

“Are you mad? You cannot simply let yourself into someone’s house! Whatever would people think? What would they say—?”

“Bridget, my dear, is that you?” a man’s voice called.

Anthony cursed. “A man? You’re here to meet a man? And dressed as a boy? Could this possibly get worse? You shun my attentions for another?”

“Bridget?” The voice was hoarse and weak.

“Merciful heavens! I will never live this down,” Anthony mumbled to himself as he followed the girl around the corner.

His eyes fell on an elderly gentleman who seemed to have one foot in the grave. “Ah, Bridget, my dear, are you ready for your fencing lesson?”

“I was wrong. It just became much worse.” Anthony began to perspire as Bridget shed her coat and rolled up her sleeves. Smooth fair skin peeked out from her white shirt, causing his nostrils flare in agitation or arousal — he wasn’t quite sure which, but he was certain the temperature in the house just spiked at least ten degrees. And where was the blasted butler with refreshments?

“And you are?” the elderly gentleman asked.

“Viscount Maddox at your service.” He bowed curtly before the man and waited.

“I’m sorry, Lord Travis. He insisted on following me.”

“How fortuitous, my dear. You shall have a sparring partner.”

“Sparring partner?” Anthony repeated and began to laugh. “Surely you jest.”

“I never jest.” The man made no move to smile or breathe, it seemed.

“Right, then.” Anthony shifted on his heels. “So I’ll just…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead he silently cursed his brother and Wilde as he shook off his jacket and readied himself for battle… against a woman. The very woman he was supposed to be winning.

Truly, the odds were not in his favor.

“En garde!” Bridget yelled.

Releasing This Thursday!

Don't miss the sequel to USA Today Bestseller, 

Waltzing with the Wallflower!

Anthony's story:

FROM THE COVER:

Driven to distraction by the redhead across the room, Anthony Benson barely hears the terms of his brother’s challenge before agreeing to them.

No matter. It will be easy. Viscount Maddox has never had any problem impressing the ladies. And four weeks is more than enough time to win over this so obviously neglected wallflower.

But things are never as easy as they seem.

The lady has lofty aspirations. And not one of them includes love or marriage. Especially not with an arrogant and self-assured playboy like the viscount. No matter how attractive he may be.

****

For a sneak peek at the new cover art for Beguiling Bridget and other inside information, "like" Waltzing with the Wallflower on Facebook.

Sweet Saturday: Beguiling Bridget

Anthony entered into Ambrose’s townhome much like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Ambrose took one look at his brother and swore. “Well, that went well.”

“Obviously.” Anthony muttered as a squashed strawberry fell out of his jacket and tumbled onto the floor.

“I thought he didn’t like strawberries?” Wilde said to Ambrose, “It seems that if he was so offended by said fruit he wouldn’t take to bathing in them, which is the only conclusion I can come up with considering his state of dress.”

“It is my calculation,” Anthony sat on a nearby chair and cringed when the sticky juice of the strawberry ran down his legs, “that when the lady could find no daggers, swords, or pistols, she became desperate and decided to torture me with my favorite fruit.”

“She was successful, no doubt.” Ambrose smiled and let out a chuckle.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her.”

“Idiot,” Ambrose replied.

“Dolt,” Wilde agreed.

“What did you expect me to do? I apologized! I went down on one knee and I had this speech, truly it was a speech that would bring even Byron to tears, and then when I saw her lips and her face I lost—“

“—complete control of your mind, no doubt.” Wilde shook his head. “If you do not fix this then Gemma will never speak to me again! Women have to stick together, after all.”

At Anthony’s irritated look Wilde apologized. “Well, it’s not that I’m not concerned for you and the lovely lady, and yes perhaps I’m being a mite selfish, but saints alive, Anthony! I’ve never met a man so horrid at proposals and apologies in my life! And just this last year Ambrose apologized to Lady Cordelia by giving her a dead plant!”

“Now see here!” Ambrose roared. “I didn’t know it was dead until after I gave it to her.”

“That makes it so much better.” Anthony closed his eyes while his brother and Wilde continued to bicker. They were both right, perhaps he should allow the lady to shoot him—anything would feel better than the pain he was feeling at present.

Bridget. She deserved the prince, the white horse, the pretty words. She deserved it all, and he had kissed her instead.

Well, no more. He was going to do this right, even if it killed him, which to be truthful was a very real possibility.

“Right then.” He pulled himself to his feet and began walking towards the door.

“Where are you going?”Ambrose asked.

“To storm the castle,” Anthony muttered and walked out into the afternoon air.

~ Beguiling Bridget releasing in July 2012

Meet & Greet: Lady Gemma

Lady Gemma Reynolds

daughter of the Duke of Fraley

The beautiful and talented Gemma Reynolds is as straight-laced as they come. She quotes the etiquette book in her spare time. And though her goal in life is marriage, she is scared to death to be alone with a man. Propriety is very important to her.

Her parents and brother are over-protective of her, and raised her to be conscious of the appearance of everything she does and says. If there is even a hint of impropriety, Gemma becomes faint.

This is why her friendship with Bridget is such a puzzle. However, they do seem to balance each other out. Gemma holds Bridget back from jumping off the ledge and plunging into complete scandal, while Bridget encourages Gemma to step outside her comfort zone every once in awhile.

When bumbling Sir Colin Wilde focuses his attentions on uptight Lady Gemma, the result is sometimes funny—sometimes sad. Sometimes it is downright improper...and Lady Gemma doesn't know what to do with that.

Meet & Greet: Sir Colin Wilde

Sir Colin Wilde

Sir Colin Wilde is always up for a good challenge...as long as the contestant is one of his two best friends, the Benson twins. He possesses a dry wit, and never seems too shocked by any mischief his two comrades indulge themselves in. His humor and bearing often act as catalysts to their escapades, though among the three, he is the most level-headed gentleman.

Not much throws him off his game.

Well...

Shockingly inept with women, Sir Colin Wilde has his work cut out for him when he meets the lovely Gemma Reynolds. Up until then he seemed like he had everything together. Suddenly, nothing he has ever done before seems to work.

He turns to his good friend Anthony Benson for help. But Anthony has troubles of his own. Far too many to see what Wilde really needs.

~Beguiling Bridget: Waltzing with the Wallflower Book 2~

COMING JULY 2012

Meet & Greet: Bridget Donovan

Bridget Donovan

daughter of the late Earl of Darlingshire

At first glance, Bridget Donovan is a typical wallflower. She stays near the potted plants, hoping they will conceal her from the view of predatory gentlemen seeking a wife. Lady Bridget has more important pursuits and has no time for such distractions, regardless of what her grandmother might say.

Lady Bridget's tragic tale isn't one she discusses freely. Her philandering English father left her Irish mother when Bridget was a small child. Shortly after, her mother died of a broken heart, and her father of a consumption. Young Bridget was sent for by her paternal grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Darlingshire, a woman with a frightfully lacking sense of humor, whose goal was to raise a proper young lady and see her married well.

But the Lady Bridget's desires differ somewhat from her grandmother's. Her greatest ambition is learning. She loves politics, literature, art, and the finesse of the sport of fencing.

And strawberries. Yes.

But not for their intended purpose. In fact, her affinity for the fruit has more to do with its use as a weapon and less to do with it being an edible delicacy.

Meet & Greet: Anthony Benson

Anthony Benson

Viscount Maddox

By chance, Anthony was born second, but only by mere minutes. He grew up with his best friend and twin brother, Ambrose. They were boys full of mischief, and they never quite grew out of that. In spite of that propensity, somehow they ended up as well-respected gentlemen and the two most eligible bachelors of the ton.

While his brother can be serious at times, Anthony takes life in stride. Everything is a game to be won. Anything can be made into a challenge. If things begin to run towards the mundane, Anthony will find a way to make it interesting. Whether it be through challenging his brother to re-invent a shunned wallflower, or to undertake to win the only woman in society who would spurn his own advances.

He is not completely without scruples, however. For instance, his compassion runs deep for those who have been made outcasts through no fault of their own (though he prefers people to think his motivations are selfish—he does have his reputation to think about, after all).

At the age of seven, Anthony suffered a traumatizing experience involving strawberries. He hasn’t been able to stand them since.

While at Eton, Anthony and Ambrose met Colin Wilde. The three met with an instant camaraderie based on their mutual affinity for mischief, and spent the rest of their educational career perpetuating all sorts of practical jokes and outlandish challenges...again, something they never outgrew.

Anthony's natural confidence draws women like flies, old and young alike. Every Season he has to fight them off with a stick (some more strenuously than others). This, of course, serves only to add a smack of hubris to his already healthy ego.

In spite of his arrogant exterior, Anthony is a romantic at heart and has always fancied himself a knight in shining armor, riding in on his white horse to rescue a fair maiden from a fate worse than death. But in this fantasy, he never once imagined the damsel would despise him.

Sweet Saturday: Strawberry, Milady?

Before she knew what was happening, Anthony had stood, pulled her to her feet along with him, whisked her into his arms, and planted a firm kiss right on her open mouth. Memories of their stolen kisses came flooding back of their own accord. His lips were smooth and tasted of cinnamon.

Shock hindered her from reacting. But Anthony seemed to know exactly what he was doing and took full advantage of her state of mind.

Her good sense came rushing back, filling her with fierce indignation. She pressed both palms firmly against his chest and shoved with all her might, thrusting him away from her.

The rakish grin he wore drove her mind into a fury, and she reared back to deliver a swing that would possess the very real possibility of knocking the rogue quite firmly into the middle of next Sunday.

With all her might she aimed her closed fist at his perfect aristocratic cheekbone, but when he grabbed her wrist, absorbing all her power, and rendering the assault useless, Bridget very nearly lost her mind with rage. With a roar, she wrenched her hand free of his grasp and stepped back, scouring the room for a weapon that would prove fatal to the arrogant sod.

She lunged madly for the teapot, thinking to send it crashing straight through his thick skull, but Francis was too quick and rescued the teapot from her reach.

The silver!

Her gaze raked the table for a sharp utensil. Only spoons!

Blast! Where were all the knives?

Francis must have seen her eyeing the teaspoons, because he deftly removed them from her vicinity without so much as twitch in his perfectly deadpan butler expression.

“Give me something, Francis!” she bellowed in exasperation.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the taciturn butler gracefully lifted the fruit bowl in one hand as if he were serving the royal table.

“Strawberry, milady?”

She could feel the wide evil grin spreading across her lips, as she leveled her gaze on Anthony, who seemed to shrink into himself in terror like a frightened turtle.

“Why thank you, Francis. I don’t mind if I do,” Bridget replied, as she wrapped her fingers around an enormous handful of brilliant red ammunition.

~ Beguiling Bridget: Waltzing with the Wallflower Book 2

Sweet Saturday: He Who Wears the Pants

Aunt Latissia had played her hand well. By the time Bridget and her sponsors arrived at the ball, the gossip buzzing in everyone’s ears was Anthony’s interest in footmen.

Bridget scanned the room for the viscount, eventually locating him in her customary hiding place behind the potted plants.

“There you are, my lord,” she said as she joined him. “Hiding?”

“Not at all. I am simply enjoying the beauty of our host’s lovely greenery. It’s not often I have time for such activities.”

“I see. Yes, they are lovely.” She glanced about him on the right and left, then asked with a smirk, “Where is your footman this evening? Home with the children?”

His vengeful glower brought a smile to her lips. And then a playful glint danced in Anthony’s eyes.

“No. In fact, I believe he’s nigh at hand. No doubt sharpening his rapier in case it is needed to defend my honor from anyone who would wish to steal away my virtue.”

“Surely he has nothing to fear in me, my lord. I assure you, my intentions are as pure as the driven snow.”

“Now that is a pity,” Anthony answered, sidling closer.

Bridget could feel her heart leap within her and set off at a hot pace, causing her breath to catch in her chest.

“Would you care to dance, Lady Bridget?” he asked, his gaze boring into her very soul.

“I don’t know if that’s quite the thing, Lord Maddox. After all, you are rather the scandal this evening. And a girl cannot be too careful in situations such as this.”

“I suppose that is true enough, however, somehow I believe your attention can only help us both.”

“Both of us? Correct me if I’m wrong, my lord, but it is not my reputation being mucked about amongst the pigs this night.”

Anthony looked past her with a mischievous grin. “Perhaps you are right, sweeting. It is just as well.”

She regarded him with humorous suspicion. “Oh? And why is that, oh great Adonis?” The nickname seemed to take him off guard for a moment and his gaze returned to meet hers, then dropping the short distance to her mouth. Her lips seemed to warm in anticipation at his mere look.

“You’re not wearing breeches,” he said with a roguish wink. “Ask anyone here. Unless you’re in breeches, you are of no interest to me whatsoever.”

“Is that so? In that case I’m certain Lady Latissia will be only too happy to give up her skirts for you.”

“Of that there is no doubt. But the very thought is enough to put me off completely.” A shiver seemed to run through him. “Which brings us back to the beginning. Since I am no longer chasing footmen, I find myself in dire need of a fair maiden with whom to dance in order to expunge my soiled reputation.”

“And you wish for me to rescue you?”

He took her hand and hooked it around his arm, gazing into her eyes as he did so. “I am desperate for it,” he whispered and led her onto the dance floor.

~ Beguiling Bridget: Waltzing With the Wallflower Book 2

New Releases This Week

On Tuesday Upon a Midnight Dream by Rachel Van Dyken will release. On Thursday All We See or Seem by Leah Sanders will release. Both will be available for sale on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, as well as on Astraea Press's site.

In honor of these occasions, Rachel Van Dyken is hosting a giveaway on her site which has multiple prizes to be awarded. Please check it out!

For my part, I'll be giving away three copies of Rachel's Upon a Midnight Dream, and two $15 Amazon or Barnes&Noble gift cards.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

You can also Enter Rachel's Giveaway for other awesome prizes,
including a copy of All We See or Seem!

COVER BLURB:

Gryff’s orders lay unopened on the table.

The silent tension caused Gem to bite her lip. She tucked a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear and shifted uneasily in the chair. Wide-eyed, Gryff sat stiffly beside her, regarding the envelope. He was like a statue—hands on his knees—staring interminably at the table.

Finally, Gem cleared her throat. Gryff jolted as if in a daze and turned to look at her. A look of uncertainty hung in his eyes. She swallowed the dry, sticky taste in her mouth and reached for his hand. It felt cold…clammy. Gem could feel the faint tremor of his fear radiating through his fingers. She took Gryff's hand between her own and squeezed, trying to infuse heat and reassurance at the same time.

"Sometimes they come back," Gem's voice was barely a whisper. It was a feeble attempt, but she was grasping at straws here.

Everyone knows.

They don't come back. Never whole, anyway.

COVER BLURB:

"I release you..." were the last words Rosalind remembered before her world went black.   Stefan, the future duke of Montmouth, no doubt thought his words were welcomed, but he couldn't have been more wrong.  Oh, he was handsome as a pagan Norse god, but that was unimportant when her life as well as those of her family hung in the balance.

With less than six weeks left, Rosalind has stopped believing in the fairy tale, the prince on the white horse, and the stolen kiss that would awaken her from her worst nightmares. Resigned to her fate, she waits for the inevitable curse to run its course.

"We must marry at once!" Stefan declared, fully expecting Rosalind to be delighted that he had come to save her, but he was sorely mistaken.  Rosalind was no simpering docile female; she was a fiery temptress with a stubborn streak matched only by his horse, Samson. Insulting, infuriating, intoxicating and alluring enough to drive a man mad.  Stefan found himself thankful for the curse that required him marry her, thankful for the betrothal contract he had so recently tried to release her from...With the fortitude of a sailor shipwrecked, abandoned, and a solider warring for his life, Stefan  decides to lay siege to the greatest prize,  Rosalind's heart.

Sweet Saturday: Bridget and the Bookseller

“Are you sure we should doing this?” Gemma whispered as Bridget stepped through the bookseller’s door. The girl could be dreadfully taxing.

“Of course, sweet Gemma,” she coaxed as she tugged at her friend’s arm. “I have been here many times with my uncle. It is quite proper, I assure you.”

The doubt was apparent in Gemma’s sapphire eyes, but she allowed herself to be pulled into the dimly lit shop.

Bridget knew exactly what book she wanted, but it was in the gentleman’s section. A distraction was in order. She turned to her maid who had followed behind them.

“Tessa, won’t you wait outside the door to direct his lordship when he comes?” The maid stared at her blankly for a moment, no doubt thinking she had gone quite mad.

Of course, it was a lie. No man was coming behind them, but the ruse might work to keep the clerk from chasing her back to the ladies’ stacks. She began there, naturally, not wanting to draw attention too soon. Browsing through the mindless romance novels on the shelves was the perfect pretense.

Beside her Gemma relaxed visibly. Poor, sweet Gemma. She had likely never set foot inside a bookseller’s shop, let alone read through anything more stimulating than the works of Mrs. Burney.

Bridget glanced over her shoulder at the clerk. He was scrutinizing them sharply over his spectacles, as if expecting them at any moment to lunge for the gentlemen’s shelves. Small talk would be just the thing to desensitize the bookseller to the female presence.

“Gemma, it seems I haven’t seen you in an age. What have you been doing with yourself lately?” Bridget began, hoping to lull the man into a false sense of security.

“I have received a number of afternoon calls of late.” Gemma’s voice was noticeably quieter than Bridget’s had been.

“Oh? Any gentlemen I know?” The tone in her voice drew Bridget’s undivided attention, and she noticed Gemma fidgeting with the cuff of her glove. A mannerism she recognized as one of her dear friend’s tells.

“One in particular.” Gemma’s face colored with slight embarrassment.

Bridget was not one to enjoy such conversation usually, but her companion appeared to be concealing some news and perhaps desired Bridget to pry it out of her.

“Well, come then, Gemma. Don’t keep me in such suspense. Who is the gentleman?” she prodded.

“I’m not sure it’s proper to speak of such things in public,” Gemma whispered again, her voice hardly more than a breath.

Gemma had never behaved so tight-lipped before when it came to speaking of gentlemen. Her goal of marriage was no secret to Bridget. It made no sense now that Gemma would be suddenly shy to discuss such things. No one else was in the shop besides the two of them but the clerk.

“If you would rather discuss something else, we can return to this subject at a more proper time,” Bridget reassured her, returning her attention to the task at hand. From her vantage point at the edge of the ladies’ shelves, she could see her true objective. A fresh copy of Mary Wollstonecraft’s Vindication was on the table directly behind the clerk.

“Do any of these strike your fancy, Gemma?”

Gemma’s eyes grew wide, and she shook her head. “Bridget, I don’t think we should be buying books in public,” she whimpered.

“Oh, Gemma! You are a precious thing!” Bridget laughed. “Where else should one buy books?”

“I don’t know. It just seems so…so…scandalous.” Her wide blue eyes darted around the room in obvious concern.

“Nonsense, Gemma! I told you, my uncle has brought me here many times.”

“But, Bridget,” she murmured. “Your uncle is a man.”

Could Gemma really be so fearful of impropriety?

“Ahem.” The clerk had sidled up beside them. “Are you ladies in need of assistance today?” The very tone in which he patronized them made Bridget’s skin crawl, and the seeds of indignation took root in her chest.

“I believe we’ve made our selections, sir.” Bridget grabbed two novels from the shelf and stepped around the man to the counter, slipping Wollstonecraft’s book beneath her other acquisitions with a stealthy hand.

He followed close behind, meeting her at the counter. “Will there be anything else, miss?”

“These will be all for today,” Bridget said with what she believed was her most confident smile. She hoped her tremulous hands wouldn’t betray her anxiety. He began to write a receipt for her purchases, as she worked to distract him from the titles by making small talk.

“It has been lovely weather of late, has it not?”

“Yes, lovely,” he answered, not lifting his gaze from his task. He made quick work of writing up the first two titles—mindless romance novels written for women. Bridget tried to break his concentration once more.

“I dare say—” she began, but he cut her off.

“My lady.” He lifted the coveted book and leveled his gaze at her. “I believe you have picked this up by mistake.” The clerk scrutinized her down his long pointed nose over the wire rim of his spectacles. Gemma squirmed beside her.

“I’m certain I picked it up on purpose, sir,” Bridget said. She had mastered a deadpan expression, which she used in situations just like this. If she appeared unflustered, it was usually the clerk who backed down first. So while her insides fluttered and twisted into knots, her outer countenance betrayed nothing of the inner turmoil. “I wish to purchase these three titles.”

But he did not back down. If anything, he grew more combative.

“This particular book is not suitable for young ladies of breeding.”

Lovely. He was one of those.

Bridget drew in a slow deliberate breath, shoring up her ire for the battle. He had no idea whom he was dealing with. But he would soon. And he would surely regret challenging her Irish temper with his repulsive male condescension.

“Listen to me, you wretched uncouth little man—” She lifted a finger to point in his face with not a care for proper etiquette. Gemma shrieked in sheer horror, taking a step backwards. But it was too late. Bridget could feel the fury engulfing her.

Back to Sweet Saturday List.

Sweet Saturday: Anthony & Bridget

It would accomplish two tasks at once. And Bridget was nothing if not efficient. Yes, she agreed to help the viscount. But not for his sake.

Her benefits would far outweigh the drawbacks of spending time in the company of his acute arrogance. Her aunt and uncle would no longer find need to scrutinize her every move at a social event. More importantly, the viscount had vowed to keep his advances to himself. Bridget was assured she had nothing to fear from constant assaults on her resolve to keep her virtue intact. And God help her, it was disintegrating in leaps and bounds every time he touched her.

After the dance with Sir Wilde, Bridget made her way back to where her aunt sat in predatory anticipation of her next quarry. The woman’s gaze scoured the gentlemen, seeking out the weakest of the herd. It made Bridget’s stomach turn. And she was at a loss at how her aunt’s blatant disregard for propriety could go so unnoticed amongst the ton. And then there was poor Uncle Ernest, who was a kind but preoccupied man, completely oblivious to his wife’s indiscretions.

As she grew closer, Aunt Latissia regarded her with suspicion. “You’re very cozy with Viscount Maddox this evening.” Her rapacious glance back at Lord Maddox was hardly veiled. “Are you certain you wish to have your name linked with such as he?”

“Are you displeased, my lady? I was under the impression you believed him a worthy companion,” Bridget said with a hint of irony. Aunt Latissia’s sharp look told her the point was not lost on her, but in that moment Uncle Ernest approached, cutting off the vicious scolding sure to come.

“Bridget. My lady,” he addressed them, kissing his wife’s proffered hand. “How do you find the dancing this evening?”

“It’s lovely, Uncle,” Bridget answered.

“I do believe our young charge has finally found someone worthy of her attention, my lord,” Latissia said with concealed bitterness.

“That’s wonderful, my dear! Who is our lucky young gentleman?” Uncle Ernest was fairly bursting with pleasure at the news.

Bridget knew that neither of her guardians were so concerned with her happiness as they were regaining their freedom from the responsibility bestowed on them on her behalf.

“Lord Maddox,” her aunt answered. “But I don’t know if that is a match I can approve of—”

“Nonsense!” the earl interrupted. “It is an excellent match, and we shall do our part to encourage this courtship, my dear! You know his reputation and influence. We could do no better short of the royal family!”

“Of course, my lord. I thought only of our sweet niece’s delicate sensitivities when it comes to living under the scrutiny of the ton. And the viscount has a way of drawing attention as you know…”

Bridget knew her aunt’s objections had more to do with her futile hopes to seduce the viscount for herself, and far less to do with any sense of what Bridget’s desires may be.

Her uncle shook his head resolutely. “This is an excellent match. And we will encourage it.” With that, he kissed his wife’s hand once again, bowed briefly to Bridget, and made his way to the gentleman’s lounge.

As he left them, Lady Latissia concealed her wrath under a thin veil of pleasantries. Through clenched teeth, she said, “Very well. Lord Maddox it is. Be sure to smile, my dear. Your usual glower will do nothing to entice his lordship to seek your hand.”

“Aunt, I don’t think—” Bridget began.

“You heard your uncle. We will encourage it. It is your job to secure a husband, my dear. Do not let your grandmother down.”

“Yes, Aunt.”