I’m thrilled to be part of a new anthology with the Bluestocking Belles! As one of their guest authors, I’m joining Caroline Warfield, Jude Knight, Rue Allyn, and Sherry Ewing, along with the other guest authors, Cerise DeLand, Mary Lancaster, and Grace Burrowes.
Here’s the blurb for the collection:
Storm & Shelter
A Bluestocking Belles with Friends Collection
When a storm blows off the North Sea and slams into the village of Fenwick on Sea, the villagers prepare for the inevitable: shipwreck, flood, land slips, and stranded travelers. The Queen’s Barque Inn quickly fills with the injured, the devious, and the lonely—lords, ladies, and simple folk; spies, pirates, and smugglers all trapped together. Intrigue crackles through the village, and passion lights up the hotel.
One storm, eight authors, eight heartwarming novellas!
Preorder your copy today at:
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3kgRmLG
Apple Books: https://apple.co/3lZYHja
And here’s a bit about my story:
A Scottish Earl on a quest for the elusive Comtesse de Fontenay, rescues a French lady smuggler from the surf during a devastating storm and takes shelter with her. As the stormy night drags on, he suspects his companion knows the lady he’s seeking, the lady who holds the secret to his identity. When she admits she’s in fact the Comtesse Fontenay, just not the one he’s seeking, she dashes all his hopes—and promises him new ones.
Malcolm woke to a sense of unsettling awareness, eyes opening, the rest of him motionless. He was at yet another bluidy inn—ah yes, the road north had collapsed. He was with a fetching lady smuggler wearing trousers.
He’d fallen asleep in a chair and his neck ached like the devil, and… the chair opposite was empty, as was the sofa.
A steady gurgling snore came from the floor in front of him where the massive dog lay, and the rain still pounded. All else was silent.
The lamp on the mantel emitted a low light, as did the fire.
He carefully swiveled his head. A candle sat atop the dining table, next to his open travel bag. The woman bent close to the dim light, studying a paper.
This close she smelled of a floral soap and her hair tickled his nose. Her curves tickled other parts of him. He eased his grip on her, and she huffed out a quiet breath.
“I believe that’s mine. What are ye doing, my lady?”
She turned her head to look up at him and shrugged. “Satisfying my curiosity, my lord.”
Hot anger flared in him, warring with a begrudging acknowledgement that, if he’d lulled her to sleep first, and if she’d been carrying a bag to search, he’d have done the same.
Preorder your copy of Storm & Shelter today!