Lord Quinton, the Black Baron. The most wicked rakeshame in all London. The most jaded. The most bored.
He cannot count all the females he has debauched. The duels he has fought. The games of chance he lost, and won.
Yet still sometimes he wonders if a man might expire of ennui.
But then, one day, his past strolls up to his front door and slaps his jaded face.
And Quin discovers that dormant passions may still be enflamed.
EXCERPT:
Quin reached out and touched her hair. "Kate by candlelight. I was admiring your nightdress." His fingers moved down her throat, came to rest against her pulse. 'So modest and demure."
Her heart was beating frantically. As Quin must realize. Kate leaned toward him, as entranced as any reptile by a snake charmer's flute. And then she recalled this charmer's countless conquests, and drew sharply back.
He quirked a quizzical eyebrow. Kate rose, crossed the room, paused in the doorway to her own bedchamber. "I am not naive. You would like to banish me to the ranks of those other women whose details you have forgot. I shan't let you, Quin."
He made no move to prevent her leaving, said not a word in his defense.
Before good sense could desert her altogether, Kate closed and locked the door.
A Traditional Regency novella, 149 pages, 22,101 words.
Genre: Historical Romance
He cannot count all the females he has debauched. The duels he has fought. The games of chance he lost, and won.
Yet still sometimes he wonders if a man might expire of ennui.
But then, one day, his past strolls up to his front door and slaps his jaded face.
And Quin discovers that dormant passions may still be enflamed.
EXCERPT:
Quin reached out and touched her hair. "Kate by candlelight. I was admiring your nightdress." His fingers moved down her throat, came to rest against her pulse. 'So modest and demure."
Her heart was beating frantically. As Quin must realize. Kate leaned toward him, as entranced as any reptile by a snake charmer's flute. And then she recalled this charmer's countless conquests, and drew sharply back.
He quirked a quizzical eyebrow. Kate rose, crossed the room, paused in the doorway to her own bedchamber. "I am not naive. You would like to banish me to the ranks of those other women whose details you have forgot. I shan't let you, Quin."
He made no move to prevent her leaving, said not a word in his defense.
Before good sense could desert her altogether, Kate closed and locked the door.
A Traditional Regency novella, 149 pages, 22,101 words.
Genre: Historical Romance
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