Tuesday Teaser: The Lord Meets His Lady [Midnight Meetings, book 3]

Tuesday Teaser: The Lord Meets His Lady [Midnight Meetings, book 3]

The Lord Meets His Lady [Midnight Meetings, book 3]   Lord Marcus Bowles has stained his family’s reputation for the last time. Only after spending a scandal-free year restoring some far-flung property can this second son return in good graces. But Marcus isn’t one to abandon a lone damsel on a dark country lane. One stolen kiss and Genevieve Turner’s handsome midnight savior disappears. Typical. No matter, Gen is...

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Tuesday Teaser: “Please, take me home”

“Please. Take me home,” she murmured. Home. Pallinsburn. The two were one and the same in her heart. Lord Bowles wrapped one arm around her and held her tight. “Whatever happens, I’ll take care of you.” She melted into him and closed her eyes, aware of Khan’s ambling gait and her husband’s steady heart beat against her ear. Tonight she’d shut away the world for a while. No Reinhard Wolf. No one to remind her she was nearly...

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Tuesday Teaser: A Chance to Escape

No sooner had she bared herself to Lord Bowles, gave him the chance to escape their arrangement, when the cottage door opened. “Riders coming. Two of them,” Mr. Beckworth bellowed from below. “I’m on my way,” he yelled and grabbed her shoulders. She jolted at his hot, hazel-eyed scrutiny. Stern and unshaven, the master of Pallinsburn was positively hawkish. “Do you want to go with him?” “No, but—” “Then it’s settled....

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Teaser Tuesday: Do I detect a challenge?

  “Does humor shade everything you do?” “Just about.” He moved off the tree and leaned the axe against the barn. “Life’s better that way. Why frown when you can smile?” A breeze stirred. Loose blonde strands floated around her face as he approached her. Intent on his dazzling, dirt-smudged smile, she lifted the hem of her apron. “You’ve conquered a dead tree, milord.” She grinned and wiped a dark streak off his jaw....

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Teaser Tuesday: Where rough-whiskered Lord Marcus shares a truth

She inched closer, her skirts and a leather strap grazing his thigh. “You could’ve given it back. I doubt the hostler knows how to use it.” “I’ve been shot at enough times not to tempt fate.” Grinning, he rose to full height. “And interrupting a romantic interlude has a way of agitating a man.” “Romantic interlude indeed,” she huffed. “I offered to help the hostler, not kiss him.” Help the hostler? With the broken...

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