Unwrapping a SEEKERS OF THE PAST by Amy Valentini Character Interview Promo

Introducing a series like no other—the Seekers of the Past series will take you on a journey where the past meets the present and love lives forever.

Seeking the Past...

Emma Wells has uncovered clues that might prove an old family tale as being true. Strange things lead her to question whether her grandfather’s death may not have been an accident and goes in search of something worth killing him for buried on her property. When she asks an old friend to assist, the man who comes in his place is the last person she ever wanted to respond to her call for help.

                             

Seeking a Second Chance…

Sam Martinelli has been hoping for a reason to get close to the woman he still loves since he destroyed their relationship five years ago. His foolish actions drove her away then, but now he’s hoping his expertise as well as time working with her allows him another chance.

Uncovering Secrets...

When Emma’s suspicions prove to have substance, she convinces Sam to help her even if he still carries doubts. Being with him again, she begins to question her heart and past as well as her foolish pride. When things take a dangerous turn, Emma realizes she must trust the man she trusts least, especially when the past collides with the present and the truth of it all is uncovered.

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Hi Everyone!

I am so excited that my debut romance, SEEKERS OF THE PAST, is releasing everywhere next week on July 10^th. I hope you’ll all give it a try in either digital ebook or print version. This series is going to take you on a journey into a family’s history in search of the answer to a question first asked in SEEKERS OF THE PAST. Sam and Emma are those Seekers of the Past. I hope you’ll enjoy the adventure, the romance, and of course, the happily ever afters.

In the meantime, I’d like to introduce you to the hero of SEEKERS OF THE PAST, Sam Martinelli.

When I first conjured up Sam, I gave him several other names until I realized

how much he reminded me of one of my favorite actors—Sam Elliott. I knew right away that he had to be named Sam and it turned out to fit him perfectly. I hope you’ll agree.

I asked Sam - Sam Martinelli, not Sam Elliott - to join me here today to talk a little bit about his history with Emma. At least, I hope he’ll open up to us about her. They have had a troubled time together, and for the past five years been separated. Perhaps we can get him to open up to us and tell us how he feels about her.

I hope you’ll make him feel welcome. So without further ado, please help me welcome, Dr. Sam Martinelli to Unwrapping Romance…

A tall, dark-haired man with a mustache and a bit of scruff on his jaw enters the room, wearing a light gray T-shirt, with the letters U – V – A across the front, a pair of jeans that fit him just so, and athletic shoes that have seen better days. With a smile, he extends his large hand to me and a little bit of me suddenly fan-girls when his honey-colored eyes framed by long dark lashes sparkle, and he gives me a sexy wink.

Amy: [taking his warm hand] Dr. Martinelli, welcome to Unwrapping Romance. It’s a pleasure to have you here today. Please, have a seat.

Sam:  Please Amy…you know you can call me Sam. After all, you and I are already very well acquainted.

[As if his deep voice, laced with a southern drawl, hasn’t already captured my attention, he leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. I think my knees wobble a bit]

Amy: [chuckling] This is very true but I want everyone to know that you carry a title as a Doctor of History and Archaeology at the University of Virginia.

Sam takes a seat across from me and squirms a bit in his chair while he runs his long fingers through his thick wavy dark hair.

Sam:  I appreciate that, darlin’, but that’s my everyday life. I believe you asked me here today to talk about another Doctor of Archaeology.

Amy:  Well, yes…I did want to talk to you about Dr. Wells. If you’re willing, that is?

Sam shifts in his chair again and leans back. With an audible sigh, he smiles and nods.

Amy:  I know this is a touchy subject since you two parted under rather adverse conditions.

Sam:  Adverse! [laughing]

I’d say adverse is a good descriptor for her walking in on me in bed with another woman. To say she wasn’t happy about it would be an understatement. I’m lucky she didn’t rip the hair out of the blonde I was with, and didn’t cut some important parts off me with her favorite and scary looking knife she carries strapped to her leg when she’s working a site.

Amy:  Oh my…well, can you blame her?

Sam scowled, ran his fingers through his hair again and sighed.
He’s obviously uncomfortable with that idea.

Amy:  So tell me about her, Sam. You will be seeing her again soon. Isn’t that true?

Sam:  [smiling] Yes, I will. Of course, she doesn’t know it yet but I’ll heading to her family farm in a few days. She wanted our old friend, Dr. Walt Bingham to come but he’s recovering from a medical issue and so has asked me to go in his place. I will tell you this…I don’t expect a happy welcome.

Amy:  Then why go? Why not just have Dr. Bingham tell her he can’t come?

Sam:  [chuckling] Because I want to go. I want a chance at making things right between us. I admit it. I screwed up five years ago. Not only that night…you see, I got really drunk after her father’s funeral because I was hurting too even as I knew she was hurting. Only when I offered to comfort her, she told me to go away. That hurt. I didn’t intend to get drunk, and certainly didn’t intend to pick up one of the coeds from the university. She was just there and offered me a ride home. I hadn’t even thought I had drank that much but I was really out of it by the time we got back to my apartment. I honestly barely remember getting home much less what happened after that. I do slightly remember Emma coming in, standing in the doorway, and seeing the pain in her eyes. Then everything went black.

Amy:  Did you go to her the next day and apologize? Beg her even.

Sam:  That was my second mistake. I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it in my drunken state or it had actually happened…any of it actually. When I woke in the morning…with a killer hangover, by the way…I was alone. It wasn’t until I sought her out later in the day that I found out from her roommate that Emma had left town. She’d accepted a dig out of country. I wasn’t even sure about that until much later when my friend, Walt, filled me in. Her roommate told me all about her walking in on me with this girl. Seriously, I didn’t remember much of anything about the night before.

Amy:  Don’t you think she’d have understood that, if you had explained?

Sam:  I tried. Once I found out where she was, I tried contacting her. She wouldn’t take my calls. She blocked me on email and text. I was at a loss as to how to make things right. After my obligations at the university were done that school year, I considered traveling to Central America and just showing up at the site, but then Walt told me she had a new guy in her life. I was done. I had blown it big time and knew if she wanted me in her life, she would’ve let me explain.

Amy:  So why do you think she will be willing now?

Sam:  [laughing aloud] I don’t. She’s liable to throw me off the property or even have me arrested for showing up, but when I went to her grandfather’s funeral with Walt…well, I stayed back so she doesn’t know I was there…but I watched her. She still needs me, I know it. She was alone…no guy there to comfort her so I’m hoping she’s still single.

Amy:  Well, Sam, hope can carry you far especially when you lead with your heart. Do you still love her?

Sam:  Oh yeah! More than life itself. There is no one else for me and there hasn’t been a day since she left that I haven’t thought about her. I can only help it’s been the same for her.

Amy:  Well, I’m crossing my fingers for you, Sam. I believe in true love and if you two are meant to be together, it will happen. You have to believe and take a chance. Nothing worth having is easy but if you give up, you’ll never know.

Sam:  Kind of like you finally making the leap into publishing and sharing our story with your friends, right?

Amy:  [laughing] Yep, exactly like that, Sam.

Sam leans forward, rests his strong looking forearms on his denim-clad thighs and grins at me with a sexy and inquisitive lift of one dark eyebrow.

Sam:  So…are you going to clue me in on whether or not I succeed with Emma?

Amy:  [laughing] Sorry. No can do, Sam. If I do that, it will ruin the story for everyone now…won’t it?

Sam:  I guess you’re right. Besides, it would probably take all the fun out of it too. Right?

Amy:  Most definitely. Trust me when I say you’re both in for an adventure.

Sam:  I like the sound of that. [Laughing]

Coming to his feet and his full height, he takes my hand and pulls me to stand in front of him. I have to look up and trust me, that’s no hardship.

Sam:  Thank you, Amy.

Then he pulls me into a big bear hug and I envy my heroine, Emma Wells, her good fortune that this man loves her so and is willing to fight for her one more time.

When he leans away, he smiles down at me.

Amy:  I wish you great luck, Sam, and thank you for coming to talk with us. It’s been a delight and I’ll just say that if Emma doesn’t want you, you just come on back and see me.

Sam laughs, presses a kiss to my cheek then releases me.

Sam:  I’ll keep that in mind, darlin’. Have a good one and I hope all of you will read my dear friend’s story about my Emma girl and me—especially me, most likely making a fool of myself. I believe Amy even has a chance for a couple of you to win a copy of the story. Isn’t that right?

Amy:  It is, Sam, it is. I know you have to get back to pack for your trip to see Emma so I’ll let you go but please, I hope you will come back and visit again. Maybe next time, Emma will be with you.

Sam:  From your lips to the gods’ ears. Have a good one. Bye y’all.

[Sam waves as he heads out the door, closing it behind him as he leaves]

Amy:  If Emma is smart she won’t turn that one away, don’t you think?

Well, Sam mentioned about my having a couple of copies for two lucky people and he’s absolutely correct. I haven’t held a giveaway in a very long time but there is no more appropriate opportunity than the debut of my first romance novel, SEEKERS OF THE PAST, the first in the series by the same name. So on to the giveaway and its rules.

GIVEAWAY

Two Signed Print Copies of

SEEKERS OF THE PAST by Amy Valentini

Cancelling this GIVEAWAY
because of lack of interest. Please see Unwrapping Romance's FB page 
for another chance to win. Thanks!

Have a great day and Happy Reading Everyone!

SEEKERS OF THE PAST, a Seekers of the Past novel by Amy Valentini, indie published, available for pre-order now and releasing on July 10, 2018 in ebook formats at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobobooks, and Smashwords.

The full-length print version, 394 pages, is available now at Amazon.

If you would like your purchased print copy signed, please contact me for suggested instructions. I’d love to sign it for you.

Don't forget to add SEEKERS TO THE PAST to your Goodreads shelf as well. 

Spotlight on DRACONES - BETRAYED, book three of the Dracones series by Sheri-Lynn Marean

DRACONES – BETRAYED

Dracones Book Three

by Sheri-Lynn Marean

available now at

 Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobobooks

A newly awakened Dracones, with tenuous control of his powers, Samarias barely survived her the first time. Now she’s back.

Coldly rejected by Hellfire, his soul mate, Sami struggles with a reason to live. He finds that reason after rescuing one of the very special and rare Genesis Dracones. With an unexpected second chance at happiness, he’s determined to make it work.

An unforgivable betrayal has pushed Hellfire, a fiery Phoenix, to stand alone against the world. She vows never to allow a man into her heart again. Not even one who makes her knees weak, and her heart pound like thunder.

Only now, her baby sister is in danger and Hellfire is frantic to rescue her. With no other choice, she seeks assistance from the only male who can help them. The same one she heartlessly tossed away. Sami. Knowing she may lose her sister is heartbreaking enough, but is it possible she’ll lose more than that to the man who wants to claim her heart?

Get Dracones Betrayed now—a dark steamy tale of love, hate, betrayal, and broken promises that will tie you to your seat as it sweeps you into the magical world of Tartaria. For ages 17+

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I was the editor on this amazing story and so ethically cannot review it, but let me just say this about it. Sheri-Lynn Marean conjures an amazing other world while pulling the reader deeper into the mysteries and secrets surrounding the fabulous cast of characters in DRACONES - BETRAYED…her best installment yet.

If you haven’t tried out this amazing debut series…give it a try. Her stories are getting better and better, and I’m so proud to be her editor and experience them first.

Happy Reading Everyone!

About the Author:

Born in Scarborough Ontario, Canada, Sheri-Lynn has lived in many different places. The main ones being Toronto, Montreal, London Ontario, Alabama, Texas, & Alberta. Sheri-Lynn now resides in British Columbia, Canada with her husband, three kids, one dog, three cats, & numerous chickens. Sheri-Lynn never imagined she'd one day be an author. Instead, she grew up riding and working with racehorses, drawing and selling animal artwork and of course, reading. Sheri-Lynn fell in love with reading at age twelve when she read The Black Stallion series by Walter Farley. She has not stopped reading since. With a wide variety of reading interests, Sheri-Lynn’s passion presently is the paranormal romance genre. One day, after reading an unsatisfying book, she decided to write her own book, with her own characters, doing what she wanted them to do. She began to type and the characters came to life in her head. She has never looked back.

Be sure to check out DRACONES – AWAKENING, and DRACONES – REVELATIONS too!

Tasty Virtual Book Tour for WHEN A MARQUESS LOVES A WOMAN by Vivienne Lorret with #excerpt & #giveaway

WHEN A MARQUESS LOVES A WOMAN
Season's Original #3

by Vivienne Lorret

Available now from Avon Impulse

Amazon | B& N | Google | iTunes | Kobo

As a young, penniless gentleman, Maxwell Harwick knew he had little to offer Juliet White—the most beautiful debutante of the season—except his love, and one thoroughly scandalous kiss. But when they were discovered in a compromising position, a nearly ruined Juliet fled into the arms of a rich, older lord... taking Max’s heart with her.

Now a widow, Lady Juliet Granworth intends to use the fortune she inherited from her odious husband to build a new life in London. Five years have passed, but she’s never forgotten Max… or his soul-searing kiss. Yet it’s clear the newly-minted Marquess of Thayne has not forgiven her—after all, the infuriating man can barely stand the sight of her. But Juliet has endured far too much to give up without a fight and if it’s a battle of wills he wants, it’s a battle he’ll get.

He hates her for breaking his heart. She detests him for destroying her future. But beneath all the loathing, simmers an intoxicating passion that neither can ignore… and the harder they resist, the harder they will inevitably fall.

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EXCERPT from WHEN A MARQUESS LOVES A WOMAN:

 He spread his arms out in a shrug, cakes in one hand, walking stick in the other. “Now, as you can see, I am utterly helpless”—he paused at the sound of her scoff—“and unable to taste the cake that you offered to feed me.”

“I made no such offer.”

“Then I cannot think of what I heard moments ago unless...”—he lowered his voice—“you were flirting with me. But you, the ever-composed Lady Granworth, would never do such a thing.”

He wanted to see her color rise, her ire flash, anything. Damn it all, he needed to ruffle her feathers and crawl under her skin. It was the least she owed him.

“I would not even know how to flirt,” she boldly lied and without batting an eye.

Wasn’t every nuance of flirtation woven into her being? Every downward sweep of her lashes. Every subtle curl of her lips. Every slash of her tongue. Every single breath!

“Oh, I’m certain that is a false statement,” he said, keeping his tone smooth and even. “All you have to do is admit to flirting with me, and I’ll be on my way.”

“I. Admit. Nothing.”

He held out his hand. “Then feed me a cake.”

She stepped forward so suddenly she nearly startled him in the process. “Fine.”

The crisply enunciated word tolled a warning bell within him, advising caution. He had anticipated their continued banter and even her eventual retreat, but not her acquiescence. Instinct told him to be wary. And yet curiosity fixed him to the spot.

Lifting her hand, she slipped the serviette into her delicate palm, the edges draping over fingers. He stared, paying close attention to every movement, noting how her lace mitts left the entire length of her slender fingers exposed. No doubt, like her dress, they were designed for a purpose, bringing to mind thoughts of bared limbs.

Then, with a delicate pinch of her thumb and forefinger, she picked up the first cake.

Anticipation thundered in his chest, neck, and ears simultaneously. She could still balk. Still storm off in a flurry. He was prepared for such a response but no longer assured of it. Perhaps challenging her wasn’t the best idea after all.

His gaze shifted from the cake to her eyes, over and again. Her gaze, on the other hand, remained fixed to his as she slowly lifted the cake—

And popped it into her mouth. Then she closed her eyes, a smile curving her lips, while emitting a low murmur of sensual delight.

Max couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move if someone were to set him on fire. The pulse that had pounded so hard an instant ago abruptly dropped to his trousers, banging like a drum as blood engorged his flesh.

The tip of her pert tongue slipped out to tease him further. The taunt transformed into torture when she licked the pink icing from her fingertip and then her thumb. When she finished, her eyes opened, the blue a brighter, deeper hue than the sky overhead. He found himself unable to look away.

“Delicious,” she purred. “So good in fact that I think I’ll have another.”

She pinched the second cake, her lips parted. But before she could lift it to her mouth—before he knew what he was doing—he seized her wrist.

He was half-tempted, half-wild with the need to kiss her, to lose himself in the silken texture of her lips once more. To haul her into his arms and feel the curves of her body with his hands.

It took every shred of control he possessed not to give in. At least, not completely.

Watching her all the while, he lowered his head and took the cake into his mouth.

He swallowed it without fanfare or appreciation. The dessert he really wanted was still waiting.

He slipped her finger into his mouth next, the dainty pad at the tip more silken and sweet than marzipan. In slow, searching swipes, he laved her flesh, mapping the route of every fine impression, wicking away every last bit of icing. He would have stopped if he was frightening her. Hell, he was startled by his own actions. But when he saw her pupils dilate, her gaze drifting down to his mouth, and then heard the quickening of her breath, he knew she was not afraid of him.

She was one of two things—either wholly, explosively angry or...wholly, explosively aroused. And since he’d been the recipient of her temper before, he wagered it was the latter.

A surge of triumph merged with the unleashed desire coursing through him. She could pretend she was cool-headed and aloof all she wanted, but he knew better. Five years ago, that same passion had slipped through the cracks in her composure.

He wanted more. Greedy, he curled his tongue around her, drawing her flesh deeper, and gently grazing the delicate furrows of her knuckle with his teeth.

“Max.”

His name shuddered out of her lungs and past her lips, sending a tremor through him. Yet the tinge of vulnerability in her passion-laden plea swiftly brought him to his senses.

With a quick tug, he pulled her closer. Still holding his walking stick, he touched the handle beneath her chin and tilted it up. “Perhaps you should reconsider flirting with your enemy in the future.”

Goodreads Book Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27776547-this-earl-is-on-fire

Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/157217-season-s-original

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

USA Today bestselling author, VIVIENNE LORRET loves romance novels, her pink laptop, her husband, and her two sons (not necessarily in that order…but there are days). Transforming copious amounts of tea into words, she is an Avon Impulse author of works including:  TEMPTING MR. WEATHERSTONE, THE WALLFLOWER WEDDING Series, THE RAKES OF FALLOW HALL Series, THE DUKE’S CHRISTMAS WISH, and the SEASON’S ORIGINAL Series.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

TOUR WIDE GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Promo Stop on a Virtual Tour for THE PERKS OF LOVING A SCOUNDREL by Jennifer McQuiston with #excerpt & #giveaway

THE PERKS OF LOVING A SCOUNDREL

Seduction Diaries #3

by Jennifer McQuiston

available now from Avon Romance

Harper Collins | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobobooks

New York Times bestselling author Jennifer McQuiston continues her enchanting Seduction Diaries series as a bookish spinster and an unrepentant rogue unite to unmask a traitor.

Every girl dreams of a hero…

No one loves books more than Miss Mary Channing. Perhaps that’s why she’s reached the ripe old age of six-and-twenty without ever being kissed. Her future may be as bland as milk toast, but Mary is content to simply dream about the heroes and adventures she reads about in her books. That way she won’t end up with a villain instead.

But sometimes only a scoundrel will do.

When she unexpectedly finds herself in the arms of Geoffrey Westmore, London’s most notorious scoundrel, it feels a bit like a plot from one of her favorite novels. Suddenly, Mary understands why even the smartest heroines can fall prey to a handsome face. And Westmore’s is more handsome than most. But far worse than the damage to her reputation, the moment’s indiscretion uncovers an assassination plot that reaches to the highest levels of society and threatens the course of the entire country.

When a tight-laced miss and a scoundrel of epic proportions put their minds together, nothing can stand in their way. But unless they put their hearts together as well, a happy ending is anything but assured.

~*~              ~*~              ~*~              ~*~

EXCERPT from THE PERKS OF LOVING A SCOUNDREL:

From the Diary of Miss Mary Channing

May 24, 1858

Eleanor wrote today. I should have been glad to hear from her, given that she is my twin sister and I love her dearly, but it would be untruthful to say the contents of her letter pleased me. Her new husband, Lord Ashington, has been called away on business and she’s asked me to come to London to keep her company during the last two months of her confinement.

Can you imagine? Me, in London?

My family says I must get my nose out of my books and begin to live in the world around me. It is true I’ve never been further afield than a day trip from home, and that I have never slept a night outside my own bed. But why would I ever want to leave, when I have my books to keep me company? And a trip to London is not without its perils. I could very well end up like one of the characters in my beloved stories, snubbed by the popular crowd. Whispered about behind lace fans. Or worse...led astray by a handsome villain and then abandoned to my fate.

Yet, how could I not go? Eleanor is my sister, and she needs me. So I shall put on a brave face. Pack a trunk. Smile, if I must. But I can’t help but wonder...which worries me more?

The many things that could happen in London?

Or the thought of seeing Eleanor, with her handsome new husband, and her shining, lovely life, and everything I am afraid of wanting?

Chapter One

London, May 29, 1858

The smell should have been worse.

She’d expected something foul, air made surly by the summer heat. Just last week she’d read about the Thames, that great, roiling river that carried with it the filth of the entire city and choked its inhabitants to tears. Her rampant imagination, spurred on by countless books and newspaper articles, had conjured a city of fetid smells, each more terrible than the last. But as Miss Mary Channing opened her bedroom window and breathed in her first London morning, her nose filled with nothing more offensive than the fragrance of...

Flowers.

Disconcerted, she peeked out over the sill. Dawn was just breaking over the back of Grosvenor Square. The gaslights were still burning and the windows of the other houses were dark. By eight o’clock, she imagined industrious housemaids would be down on their knees, whiting their masters’ stoops. The central garden would fill with nurses and their charges, heading west toward Hyde Park.

But for now the city—and its smells—belonged solely to her.

She breathed in again. Was she dreaming? Imagining things, as she was often wont to do? She was well over two hundred miles from home, but it smelled very much like her family’s ornamental garden in Yorkshire. She didn’t remember seeing a garden last night, but then, she had arrived quite late, the gaslight shadows obscuring all but the front steps. She’d been too weary to think, so sickened by the ceaseless motion of the train that she’d not even been able to read a book, much less ponder the underpinnings of the air she breathed.

She supposed she might have missed a garden. Good heavens, she probably would have missed a funeral parade, complete with an eight-horse coach and a brass band.

After the long, tiresome journey, she’d only wanted to find a bed.

And yet now...at five o’clock in the morning...she couldn’t sleep.

Not on a mattress that felt so strange, and not in a bedroom that wasn’t her own.

Pulling her head back inside, she eyed the four-poster bed, with its rumpled covers and profusion of pretty pillows. It was a perfectly nice bed. Her sister, Eleanor, had clearly put some thought into the choice of fabrics and furniture. Most women would love such a room. And most women would love such an opportunity—two whole months in London, with shops and shows and distractions of every flavor at their fingertips.

But Mary wasn’t most women. She preferred her distractions in the form of a good book, not shopping on Regent Street. And these two looming months felt like prison, not paradise.

The scent of roses lingered in the air, and as she breathed in, her mind settled on a new hope. If there was a flower garden she might escape to—a place where she might read her books and write in her journal—perhaps it would not be so terrible?

Picking up the novel she had not been able to read on the train, Mary slipped out of the strange bedroom, her bare feet silent on the stairs. She had always been an early riser, waking before even the most industrious servants back home in Yorkshire. At home, the cook knew to leave her out a bit of breakfast—bread and cheese wrapped in a napkin—but no one here would know to do that for her yet.

Ever since she’d been a young girl, morning had been her own time, quiet hours spent curled up on a garden bench with a book in her lap, nibbling on her pocket repast, the day lightening around her. The notion that she might still keep to such a routine in a place like London gave her hope for the coming two months.

She drifted down the hallway until she found a doorway that looked promising, solid oak, with a key still in the lock. With a deep breath, she turned the key and pulled it open. She braced herself for knife-wielding brigands. Herds of ragged street urchins, hands rifling through her pockets. The sort of London dangers she’d always read about.

Instead, the scent of flowers washed over her like a lovely, welcome tide.

Oh, thank goodness.

She hadn’t been imagining things after all.

Something hopeful nudged her over the threshold of the door, then bade her to take one step, then another. In the thin light of dawn, she saw flowers in every color and fashion: bloodred rose blooms, a cascade of yellow flowers dripping down the wrought iron fence. Her fingers loosened over the cover of her book. Oh, but it would be lovely to read here. She could even hear the light patter of a fountain, beckoning her deeper.

But then she heard something else above those pleasant, tinkling notes.

An almost inhuman groan of pleasure.

With a startled gasp, she spun around. Her eyes swam through the early morning light to settle on a gentleman on the street, some ten feet or so away on the other side of the wrought iron fence. But the fact of their separation did little to relieve her anxiety, because the street light illuminated him in unfortunate, horrific clarity.

He was urinating.

Through the fence.

Onto one of her sister’s rosebushes.

The book fell from Mary’s hand. In all her imaginings of what dreadful things she might encounter on the streets of London, she’d never envisioned anything like this. She ought to bolt. She ought to scream. She ought to...well...she ought to at least look away.

But as if he was made of words on a page, her eyes insisted on staying for a proper read. His eyes were closed, his mouth open in a grimace of relief. Objectively, he was a handsome mess, lean and long-limbed, a shock of disheveled blond hair peeking out from his top hat. But handsome was always matter of opinion, and this one had “villain” stamped on his skin.

As if he could hear her flailing thoughts, one eye cracked open, then the other. “Oh, ho, would you look at that, Grant? I’ve an audience, it seems.”

Somewhere down the street, another voice rang out. “Piss off!” A snigger followed. “Oh, wait, you already are.”

“Cork it, you sodding fool!” the blond villain shouted back. “Can’t you see we’re in the presence of a lady?” He grinned. “Apologies for such language, luv. Though...given the way you are staring, perhaps you don’t mind?” He rocked back on his heels, striking a jaunty pose even as the urine rained down. “If you come a little closer, I’d be happy to give you a better peek.”

Mary’s heart scrambled against her ribs. She might be a naive thing, fresh from the country, and she might now be regretting her presumption that it was permissible to read a book in a London garden in her bare feet, but she wasn’t so unworldly that she didn’t know this one pertinent fact: she was not—under any circumstances—coming a little closer.

Or getting a better peek.

Mortified, she wrapped her arms about her middle. “I. . .that is. . .couldn’t you manage to hold it?” she somehow choked out. There. She’d managed a phrase, and it was a properly scathing one, too. As good as any of her books’ heroines might have done.

A grin spread across his face. Much like the puddle at the base of the rosebush. “Well, luv, the thing is, I’m thinking I’d rather let you hold it.” The stream trickled to a stop, though he added a few more drips for good measure. He shook himself off and began to button his trousers. “But alas, it seems you’ve waited too long for the pleasure.” He tipped a finger to the brim of his top hat in a sort of salute. “My friend awaits. Perhaps another time?”

Mary gasped. Or rather, she squeaked.

She could manage little else.

He chuckled. “It seems I’ve got a shy little mouse on my hands. Well, squeak squeak, run along then.” He set off down the street, swaying a bit. “But I’ll leave you with a word of advice, Miss Mouse,” he tossed back over one shoulder. “You’re a right tempting sight, standing there in your unutterables. But you might want to wear shoes the next time you ogle a gentleman’s prick. Never know when you’ll need to run.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

A veterinarian and infectious disease researcher by training, Jennifer McQuiston has always preferred reading romance to scientific textbooks. She resides in Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband, their two girls, and an odd assortment of pets, including the pony she promised her children if mommy ever got a book deal.

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Praise for Jennifer McQuiston and THE PERKS OF LOVING A SCOUNDREL:

“McQuiston’s third Seduction Diaries novel is to be commended for its complex and unusual plot and for featuring characters the reader comes to care for. A surprising, readable story about healing, forgiveness, and trust.” — Kirkus

“The story is equal parts mystery and romance, and just when readers begin to feel cheated, the twists and turns navigate to a stunning ending.”— Publishers Weekly

“Pure Escapism. Ms. Mcquiston created a romance as epic as the characters who lived it. [...] With easily identifiable main characters and a thrilling story, it was a no brainer for me to gift this book with 5 stars and a Top Pick.” — Night Owl Reviews

“McQuiston’s Seduction Diaries series captivates readers with clever plots and engaging characters. Incorporating plenty of sexual tension, bantering dialogue and a mystery into this installment delivers everything fans expect from McQuiston. This is truly a delightful addition to a reader’s library.”— RT Book Reviews

“THE PERKS OF LOVING A SCOUNDREL is full of interesting characters and their interactions, especially those between West and Mary. There is also plenty of suspense concerning the assassination. The era is also a change from the Regency that so Dominates British historical romances.”— Romance Reviews Today

“Regency romance fans will adore this addition to McQuiston’s Seduction Diaries series”— Booklist

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