No Conventional Miss Makes 2016 Goethe Book Awards Shortlist

No Conventional MissI am so excited to announce that No Conventional Miss, my Harlequin Historical, has made the 201 Goethe Book Awards Shortlist.  A division of Chanticleer International Novel Writing Competitions, the Goethe Novel Writing Competition recognizes emerging new talent and outstanding works in the genre of post-1750s Historical Fiction.  I am so honored to be included with many wonderful authors.

Chanticleer AwardsTo view the whole list, visit their website.

I’m Giving Away 5 Copies of My Harlequin Historical, Married for His Convenience

Married for His ConvenienceTo celebrate it’s upcoming release, I’m giving away 5 copies of my Harlequin Historical, Married for His Convenience.

Enter to win on Goodreads.

About Married for His Convenience

Tainted by illegitimacy, plain Sarah Martin has no illusions of a grand marriage. So when the Earl of Langford makes her a proposal that will take her one step closer to finding her half sister, she can’t refuse!

Sebastian’s dreams of romance died with his late wife’s affair, so now he needs a convenient wife to act as governess for his silent daughter. Yet Sarah continues to surprise and challenge him, and soon Sebastian can’t deny the joy his new bride could bring to his life—and into his bed!

For more, check out the book page.

I’m Giving Away 5 Copies of No Conventional Miss

No Conventional Miss

 

To celebrate my upcoming release, Married for His Convenience, I’m giving away (5) copies of my first book, No Conventional Miss.  To enter to win, just join my newsletter list!  Five subscribers will be chosen at random on November 1, 2016.

From the blurb…

Amaryllis Gibson is an unlikely debutante. She favors fact over fashion, cares not for “proper” conversation and is haunted by ghostly visions which could land her in the madhouse! Marriage is definitely the last thing on Rilla’s mind…

But when she’s caught in a compromising position with Viscount Wyburn, suddenly she finds herself betrothed! And worse, his powerful presence only increases her visions. By shedding light on the viscount’s past, can Rilla gain his trust and win him round to her more…unconventional traits?

Enjoy an excerpt here.

Now Available for Pre-Order: Married for His Convenience

Married for His ConvenienceI’m so excited to announce my next release is now available for pre-order.  Married for His Convenience will release in paperback on November 22 and in ebook on December 1.  Pre-order your copy today!

From the blurb…

Tainted by illegitimacy, plain Sarah Martin has no illusions of a grand marriage. So when the Earl of Langford makes her a proposal that will take her one step closer to finding her half sister, she can’t refuse!

Sebastian’s dreams of romance died with his late wife’s affair, so now he needs a convenient wife to act as governess for his silent daughter. Yet Sarah continues to surprise and challenge him, and soon Sebastian can’t deny the joy his new bride could bring to his life—and into his bed!

Now Available for Pre-Order

Enjoy an Excerpt from No Conventional Miss

No Conventional MissLearn more about No Conventional Miss as Paul and Rilla clash as they adjust to marriage.

“They came earlier. I directed them to change horses and proceed to London as we’re leaving tomorrow.’ Paul sipped his wine.

‘We are? But we were supposed to stay a week.’ Rilla laid down the massive fork with a clatter.

‘I altered our plans.’

‘Without talking to me?’

‘I do not make decisions about my household in committee.’

‘“In committee”? We are not in Parliament. I am your wife and you’re moving me around like so much baggage!’

Anger blossomed, although it was less about his autocracy and more about that tiny unacceptable frisson of relief.

‘I would not use that unflattering description,’ Paul said. ‘But, yes, I will make the travel arrangements for my household as I see fit.’

‘Perhaps I don’t want to go to London.’

‘I thought you’d be glad.’

‘Because…’ Her stomach lurched. The incident sprang huge between them.

‘I thought Wyburn not salubrious to your health.’

His admission made her angrier. She balled her hands to fists. Her jaw tightened. ‘My health is robust. Besides, my parents discussed—’ She stopped. Her parents spoke about everything—village doings, their children, their hopes and dreams.

But this was no such union.

‘We are not your parents.’ His voice, though soft, cut.

‘No,’ she said.

They continued eating in an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the clinking of knives and forks.

Irritation at him and at her own vulnerable relief tangled in Rilla’s mind. She wanted to leave this place. Yet his choice to do so perversely annoyed.

Edison refilled their glasses, cleared the plates and served a sweet, fluffy concoction for their pudding. Then he left and silence again enclosed them.

‘I think I will retire and leave you to your port,’ Rilla said at last, rising from her chair.

Paul stood, but made no effort to detain her. ‘Rest well. We leave after breakfast. I hope that is convenient.’

“She nodded. He offered her his arm and she placed her hand on his sleeve, conscious of taut muscles under the cloth and the smell his cologne.

They moved towards the door, stopping at its threshold and she was suddenly aware of their solitude, of the warmth of his breath and the height and strength of him.

He fastened his gaze on hers, placing his hand against her cheek. She tingled at this touch. Her anger dwindled, turning into something else.

She bit her lip. His breath quickened. With a quick, almost violent movement, he possessed her mouth with heat and power and need.

Stepping back abruptly, he allowed his hands to fall from her. ‘I apologise. That was not appropriate.’

‘We’re married.’

‘And therefore must restrain ourselves in the dining room.’

‘Perhaps you are too ruled by restraint,’ she said softly.

‘Or you are too swayed by emotion.’

She flinched at the words. Was it always to be thus—this guarding of words and actions? This fear of sentiment?

‘Rather that than to be a statue,’ she retorted.

As she left, she glanced back. Paul stood by the fireplace. He gripped the mantel with both hands, his head bowed low, a solitary figure.