After five long years of writing, editing, submissions, contracting, more editing...
AT LAST! My first novel
Wicked Designs is out in the world for you wonderful readers to enjoy! I'm so excited to share it with you and I hope the story and the characters will move you!
Today is a day for Celebrations! I want to share so much about my book with all of you!
So what's
Wicked Designs all about?
Here's the scoop:
The League of
Rogues takes what they want—but have they taken on too much?
For too long Miss Emily Parr has been subject to the
whims of her indebted uncle and the lecherous advances of his repulsive
business partner. Her plan to be done with dominating men forever is
simple—find herself a kind husband who will leave her to her books.
It seems an easy enough plan, until she is unexpectedly
abducted by an incorrigible duke who hides a wounded spirit behind flashing
green eyes.
Godric St. Laurent, Duke of Essex, spends countless nights
at the club with his four best friends, and relishes the rakish reputation
society has branded him with. He has no plans to marry anytime soon—if ever.
But when he kidnaps an embezzler’s niece, the difficult debutante’s blend of
sweetness and sharp tongue make him desperate for the one thing he swears he
never wanted: love.
Yet as they surrender to passion, danger lurks in Godric’s
shadowed past, waiting for him to drop his guard—and rob him of the woman he
can’t live without.
Warning: This novel includes a lady who refuses to stay
kidnapped, a devilish duke with a dark past, and an assortment of charming rogues
who have no idea what they’ve gotten themselves into.
Here's a little taste of the story...
Godric St. Laurent, the twelfth
Duke of Essex, leaned back in his saddle watching the abduction he’d
orchestrated unfold. Covering his mouth with a gloved hand, he stifled a yawn.
Things were going smoothly. In fact, this entire kidnapping bordered on the
point of tedious. They’d intercepted the coach ten minutes before it reached
Chessley House. No one witnessed the escort of riders or the driver changing
his route. Oddly enough, the young woman hadn’t shown any signs of resistance
or concern from inside the coach. Wouldn’t she have made some protestations
when she realized what was happening? A thought stopped him dead. Had she
somehow slipped out of the coach when they’d slowed on a corner before they’d
left town? Surely not, they would have seen her. Most likely she was too
terrified to do anything, hence the silence from inside. Not that she had
anything to fear, she would not be harmed.
He nodded to his friend Charles who
was perched next to the driver. A bag of coins jingled as Charles dropped it
into the jarvey’s waiting hands.
They had reached halfway point
between London and Godric’s ancestral estate. They would go the rest of the way
on horseback, with the girl sharing a horse with either him or one of his
friends. The driver would return to London with a message for Albert Parr and a
wild story that exonerated himself from blame.
“Ashton, stay here with me.” Godric
waved his friend over while the others rode the horses a good distance away to
wait for his signal. Abductions were tricky things, and having only himself and
one other man take hold of the girl would be better. She might have a fit of
hysterics if she saw the other three men too close.
He rode up to the coach, curious to
see whether the woman inside matched his memory. He’d seen her once before from
a window overlooking the gardens when he’d visited her uncle. She’d been
kneeling in the flowerbeds, her dress soiled as she weeded. A job more suited
to a servant than a lady of quality. He’d been ready to dismiss her from his
mind when she’d turned and glanced about the garden, a smudge of dirt on the
tip of her upturned nose. A butterfly from a nearby flower had fluttered above
her head. She hadn’t noticed it, even as it settled on her long, coiling auburn
hair. Something in his chest gave a funny little flip, and his body had stirred
with desire. Any other woman so innocent would not have caught his interest,
but he’d glimpsed a keenness in her eyes, a hidden intelligence as she dug into
the soil. Miss Emily Parr was different. And different was intriguing.
Ashton handed the driver the ransom
letter for Parr and took up a position near the front of the coach. Taking hold
of the door, Godric opened it up, waiting for the screaming to start.
None came.
“My deepest apologies, Miss Parr—”
Still no screaming. “Miss Parr?” Godric thrust his head into the coach.
It was empty. Not even a
fire-breathing dragon of a chaperone, not that he’d expected one. His sources
had assured him she would be alone tonight.
Godric looked over his shoulder.
“Ash? You’re sure this is Parr’s coach?”
“Of course. Why?” Ashton jumped off
his horse, marched over and thrust his head into the empty coach. He was silent
a long moment before he withdrew. Ashton put his finger against his lips and
motioned to the inside. A tuft of pink muslin peeped out from the wooden seat.
He gestured for Godric to step away from the coach.
Ashton lowered his voice. “It seems
that our little rabbit chase has turned into a fox hunt. She’s hidden in the
hollow space of the seat, clever girl.”
“Hiding under the seat?” Godric
shook his head, bewildered. He didn’t know one woman of his acquaintance who
would do something so clever. Perhaps Evangeline, but then if anything could be
said of that woman, it was that she was far from ordinary. A prickling of
excitement coursed through his veins, into his chest. He loved a challenge.
“Let’s wait a few minutes and see
if she emerges.”
Godric looked back at the coach,
impatience prickling inside him. “I don’t want to wait here all night.”
“She’ll come out soon enough. Allow
me.” Ashton walked back to the coach and called out to Godric in a carrying
voice. “Blast and damnation! She must have slipped out before we took charge of
the coach. Just leave it. We’ll take the driver back to London tomorrow.”
Ashton shut the door with a loud slam and motioned for Godric to join him.
“Now we wait,” Ashton whispered. He
indicated that he would guard the left coach door while Godric stationed
himself at the right.
Emily listened to the drum of
retreating hooves and silently counted to one hundred. Her heart jolted in her
chest as she considered what the men would do if they caught her. Highwaymen
could be cruel and murderous, especially if their quarry offered little. She
had no access to her father’s fortune, which left only her body.
Icy dread gripped Emily’s spine,
paralyzing her limbs. She drew a breath as anxiety spiraled through her.
I
must be brave. Fight them until I can
fight no more. With trembling hands, she pushed at the roof of the seat,
wincing as it popped open. Once she climbed out, she brushed dirt from her
gown, noticing some tears from the rough wood on the inside of the seat. But
the tears held no importance. All that mattered was survival.
Emily looked out the coach window.
Nothing stood out in the darkness. Only the faint glimmer of moonlight touched
the road with milky tendrils. Stars winked and flickered overhead, pale lights,
distant and cold. A shudder wracked her frame, and Emily hugged herself,
wanting so much to be at home. She missed her warm bed and her parents’ murmurs
from down the hall. It was a comfort she’d taken for granted. But she couldn’t
afford to think about them, not when she was in danger.
Were
the men truly gone? Could it really be this easy?
She opened the coach door, and
stepped down onto the dirt road. Strong arms locked about her waist and yanked
her backward. The collision with a hard body knocked the breath from her lungs.
Terror spiked her blood as she struggled against the arms that held her.
“Good evening, my darling,” a low voice
murmured.
Emily screamed once, before she bit
down on the hand that covered her mouth. She tasted the smooth leather of fine
riding gloves.
The man roared and nearly dropped
her. “Damn!”
Emily rammed an elbow backwards
into her attacker’s stomach and began to wrestle free until he grabbed her arm.
She swung about, striking him across the face with a balled fist. The man
staggered back, leaving her free to dive inside the coach.
If she could get to the other side
and run, she might stand a chance. She scrabbled towards the door, but never
made it. The devil surged into the coach after her. Turning to face him, she
was knocked flat onto her back.
She screamed again as his body
settled over hers.
The dim moonlight revealed his
bright eyes and strong features.
He caught her flailing wrists,
pinning them above her head. “Quiet!”
Emily wanted to rake his eyes out,
but the man was relentless. His hips ground against hers and panic drove her to
a new level of terror. Her fears of being forcibly taken surfaced as his warm
breath fanned over her face and neck. She shrieked, and he reared back away
from her, as though the sound confused him.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His
voice vibrated with a low growl, ruining any promise his words might carry.
“You’re hurting me now!” She yanked
her arms uselessly against his hold.
The man eased off her somewhat, and
Emily took her chance. She tucked her knees up, and with all the power she
could summon, she kicked. Her attacker stumbled out the open door and fell onto
his back. Emily barely registered that he was winded before she turned and
exited the other side of the coach.
The moment she emerged, another man
lunged for her. To escape him, Emily fell back against the side of the coach.
Rather than grab her, he held his arms wide to keep her from slipping by him,
like he was corralling livestock.
“Easy, easy,” he purred.
Emily whipped her head to the left
and pleaded with her mind to think, but the man she’d bitten rounded the corner
and pounced, pinning her against the coach, his arms caging her in. His solid
muscular body towered over her. His jaw clenched as though one move from her
would trigger something dark and wild. Emily’s breath caught, and her heart
pounded violently against her ribs.
The man was panting and angry. The
intensity of his eyes mesmerized her, but the second he blinked, the spell
broke and she fought with every bit of strength she could muster.
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