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Untraceable (Tracers Book 1)
by Laura Griffin
Alex Lovell makes people disappear. Turns out, she’s not the only one….
Untraceable (Tracers Book 1) By Laura Griffin
This deal found exclusively on BookGorilla. Join our thousands of happy subscribers and never pay full price on eBooks again. It’s FREE and EASY at BookGorilla.com.
by Laura Griffin
Last week we announced that Lauren Smith’s Wicked Designs is our Romance of the Week and the sponsor of thousands of great bargains in the Romance category: over 200 free titles, over 600 quality 99-centers, and thousands more that you can read for free through the Kindle Lending Library if you have Amazon Prime!
Now we’re back to offer our weekly free Romance excerpt, and if you aren’t among those who have downloaded Wicked Designs, you’re in for a real treat:
by Lauren Smith
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.
London, September 1820
Something wasn’t right. Emily Parr allowed the elderly coachman to help her into the town coach, and the queer look he gave her made her skin crawl. Peering into the dark interior of the vehicle, she was surprised to find it empty. Uncle Albert was supposed to accompany her to social engagements and if not him, certainly a chaperone. Why then was the coach empty?
She settled into the back seat, her hands clutching her reticule tight enough that the beadwork dug into her palms through her gloves. Perhaps her uncle was meeting with his business partner, Mr. Blankenship. She’d seen Blankenship arrive just before she’d gone upstairs to prepare for the ball. A shudder rippled through her. The man was a lecherous creature with beetle-black eyes and hands that tended to wander too freely whenever he was near her. Emily was not worldly, having only just turned eighteen a few months earlier, but this last year with her uncle had enlightened her to a new side of life and none of it had been good.
Her first London Little Season should have been a wonderful experience. Instead it had begun with the death of her parents at sea and ended with her new life in the dusty tomb of her uncle’s townhouse. With an insubstantial library, no pianoforte and no friends, Emily had started to slide into a melancholy haze. It was crucial she make a good match and fast. She had to escape Uncle Albert’s world, and the only way she could do that was to legally obtain her father’s fortune.
A distant cousin of her mother’s held the money in trust. It was a frustrating thing to have a man she’d never met hold the purse strings on her life. Uncle Albert despised the situation as well. As her guardian he was forced to give an accounting to her mother’s cousin, which thankfully kept him from delving too deeply into her accounts for his own needs. The small fortune was the best bargaining chip she had to entice potential suitors. Though the money would go to her husband, she hoped to find a man who would respect her enough not to squander what was rightfully hers. But arriving at the ball without a chaperone would damage her chances in husband hunting, it simply wasn’t done to show up alone. It spoke lowly of her uncle as well as their financial situation.
As relieved as she was to not have her uncle or Mr. Blankenship escorting her, her stomach still clenched. She recalled the cold way the elderly driver smiled at her just before she’d climbed inside. The slickness of that grin made her feel a little uneasy, like he knew something she didn’t and it amused him. It was silly—the old man wasn’t a threat. But she couldn’t shake the wariness that rippled through her. She would have been thankful for Uncle Albert’s presence, even if it meant another lecture on how costly she was to provide for and how kind he’d been in taking her in after her parents’ ship was lost.
The driver was engaged to bring her to Chessley House for the ball, and nothing would go wrong. If she kept saying it over and over, she might believe it. Emily focused her thoughts on what tonight would bring, hoping to ease her worry. She would join her new friend, Anne Chessley, as well as Mrs. Judith Pratchet, an old friend of Anne’s mother, who’d kindly agreed to sponsor Emily for the Little Season. There was every possibility she would meet a man and catch his interest enough that he would approach her uncle for permission to court her.
Emily almost smiled. Perhaps tonight she would dance with the Earl of Pembroke.
Last night, the handsome earl had smiled at her during their introduction and asked her to dance. Emily had nearly wept with disappointment when she informed him that Mrs. Pratchet had already filled her dance card.
The earl had replied, “Another time, then?” and Emily nodded eagerly, hoping he would remember her.
Perhaps tonight I shall have a spot of luck. She desperately hoped so. Emily wasn’t so foolish as to believe she had any real chance of marrying a man like the Earl of Pembroke, but it was nice to be noticed by a man of his standing. Sometimes that attention was noticed by others.
The coach halted sharply a moment later, and she nearly toppled out of her seat, her thoughts interrupted, her daydreams fleeing.
“Ho there, my good man!” a man shouted from nearby.
Emily moved toward the door, but the vehicle rocked as someone climbed onto the driver’s seat, and she fell back in her seat again.
“Twenty pounds is yours if you follow those two riders ahead and do as we ask,” the newly-arrived man said.
Having regained control of her balance, she flung the coach curtains back. Two riders occupied the darkened street, their backs to her. What was going on? A sense of ill-ease settled deep in her stomach. The coach jerked and moved again. As she had feared, the driver didn’t stop at Chessley House. He followed the riders ahead.
What was this? A kidnapping? A robbery? Should she stick her head out of the window and ask them to stop? If robbing her was their intent, asking them what they were doing might be a bad idea… Why would they take her when there were so many other heiresses, ones more lovely than her, having their first come out this year? Surely this wasn’t an abduction. Her mind reeled as she struggled to cope with the situation. What would her father have done in this situation? Load a pistol and fight them off. Having no pistol, she’d have to think of something clever. Could these men be reasoned with? Unlikely.
Emily worried her bottom lip as she debated her options. She could scream for help, but such a reaction could worsen matters. She could open the door and throw herself out onto the street, but the clatter of hooves behind the coach erased that idea. She’d be lucky to survive the fall if she tried, and the horses behind were too close. She’d likely be killed. Emily fell back against the seat with a shaky sigh, her heart racing. She’d have to wait until the driver stopped.
For what seemed like an hour she kept nervously glancing out the windows to assess what direction the coach was going. By now London was far behind her. Only open country stretched on both sides of the road. A rumble of hooves heralded an approaching rider, and a man astride a sleek black gelding galloped past the window. He was too close and the horse too tall for her to get a good view of him. The moonlight rippled off the horse’s shiny coat as it rode past.
She knew by the close proximity of the rider and the determined way he rode in the saddle that he was involved with this business. Who in their right mind, except perhaps that foul old man, Blankenship, would kidnap her? He’d be the sort to engage in such a nefarious activity.
The other evening he’d come to dinner at her uncle’s house and when her uncle had turned away for only a second, Blankenship had twined one of this thick, stubby fingers around a lock of her hair, tugging it hard until she’d nearly cried out. He’d whispered horrible things in her ear, nasty things that made her sick as he told her he planned to marry her as soon as her uncle had approved. Emily had stared back at him, stating she’d never marry him. He’d only laughed and said, “We’ll see, my sweet. We shall see.”
Well, she wouldn’t back down. She wasn’t some pawn to be captured and held at someone’s mercy. They’d have to fight to take her.
Emily looked out the window on the other side to count the riders. Two led the party at the front, mere yards ahead. Another two flanked the coach on either side. One of them rode with a second horse roped to his saddle, likely for the man who rode now with the driver. Not the best of odds. Perhaps she could outsmart them.
The coach slowed, then gently creaked to a stop. Emily took stock of her situation. She fought for composure, each breath slower than the one before. If she panicked, she might not survive. She had to hide. But she could not physically escape five men.
Her eyes fell to the seat across from her.
Maybe—
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 the 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.
“Cedric, I need you!” The man shouted over his shoulder.
One of the riders trotted over holding a silver flask in one hand. Emily redoubled her efforts to escape and stamped on the instep of her captor’s boot. But it was too late. The man held the flask to her lips and, when she didn’t open her mouth, he pinched her nose, and she was forced to part her lips for breath. Vile, bitter liquid streamed down her throat. She gagged but swallowed.
The bitter taste in her mouth made her shudder violently, and a wave of dizziness swept through her, blurring her vision. The ground beneath her feet seemed to spin. A frightening deadness stole through her arms and legs, and she weakened against the man who still held her. Perhaps if she feigned unconsciousness here for a moment, got her breath back and cleared her head she could fight…
The man with the flask stepped back and Emily let her body go limp. Her captor kept his arms around her waist and shoulder, locking her to his body. Emily drew a breath, slow and shallow so as to not attract attention. The man who held her waited as someone dropped a cloak onto the grass before he gently set her down on it. Then he stepped away to talk to his companions. She had counted five all together before she’d had to shut her eyes.
Emily did her best to lay still and breathe shallowly as she listened, but it was hard to fight the panic that rioted within her and the fog that slowly descended on her vision. Every instinct screamed for her to flee, but she remained still, praying they’d turn their attention away from her just long enough for her to rise and run.
She heard a man’s voice above her. “Well, that wasn’t too hard.”
“I say, is that a gypsy child? I thought we were abducting a fine young lady of the ton?” Another laughed.
Emily fought the urge to snarl, despite the lethargy of her body. Bloody, arrogant popinjays! The anger felt better than the fear and it gave her a little more energy.
What had been in that flask she’d drunk from? A poison? No…that made no sense. She’d read of this bitter taste before… Laudanum! New anger sparked inside her. She let it flow from her head to her toes, and the illusion of strength built in her bones.
Yet another voice spoke up. “Charles, pay the driver an extra fee for his silence, and Lucien and I will see to the girl.” This voice she recognized. It was the man she’d bitten. He and the others appeared to be gentlemen, if you could call them that at all.
After moving in with her uncle, she learned never to trust a man’s appearance again. A fine set of clothes did not make someone a good man.
What confused her more was what these rogues wanted with her. Certainly Blankenship hadn’t hired them to take her. He would have chosen men of lower standing. The riding glove she’d bitten had been of a fine quality, too fine for common henchmen.
“How long will she be out?” one of the men asked.
“Hard to say…probably a good hour.” She recognized the voice as the one called Cedric. “One of us will carry her back to the manor.”
A gentle hand swept Emily’s hair back from her face. That same hand drifted down to her neck, caressing her skin before it touched her arm then slid along her waist. Tingles of fear traveled beneath her skin. She fought to keep her breath from quickening, but her heart fluttered wildly. When the hand brushed along her waist, Emily’s breath sped up. She was highly sensitive in that particular area, and the feather light dance of fingertips along her body, through the muslin, made her stifle a giggle. She cursed her ticklishness.
The hand withdrew. Then just as suddenly the hand was back, brushing along her waist, still as gently, until she burst into fit of gasping hysterics.
“She’s awake!” the captor who had just touched her called out, his voice breathless as though he was fighting off his own laughter.
Emily scrambled to her hands and knees. She’d barely moved when a body tackled her from behind, knocking her back to the ground. What little strength she had left deserted her. His knees trapped her hips, pinning her to the ground. Emily cried out as his weight settled on her. He loosened his grasp enough to let her breathe but not to allow her any freedom.
“Have you got hold of her, Godric?”
Emily lashed out, legs flailing, back arching. “Please! Don’t do this, I beg you!” She hated begging, but it was her last chance.
“We won’t hurt you, darling.” The man on top of her, Godric, ran a large palm along her side, stroking soothingly.
“Liar!”
He tightened his hold as Emily kicked and fought. “I’ve got her, but be quick, Cedric! She’s bucking pretty madly.”
Cedric knelt by her head and tilted the flask against her lips, forcing laudanum down her throat. Emily tried to whip her head to the side, but Cedric’s other hand covered her mouth, preventing her from spitting out the vile liquid. It was useless to battle against her fate. She let her eyes plead where her mouth could not.
“Sorry, my dear. Truly, I am.” The sincerity in Cedric’s voice surprised her.
How could sincerity follow such brutality?
He kept the flask at her lips. She swallowed hard and then coughed as it the liquid burned a path through her insides.
Her last sight was of Cedric, his brows creased above his eyes. Her fingers left tracts in the gritty earth of the dark, empty road as she struggled to stay conscious. The musty aroma of soil clouded her nose, mixing with the heavy warmth of the masculine body that pinned her down. Her limbs were heavy. Her eyelids fluttered and she knew she couldn’t hold out much longer. Godric gently caressed her body, as though to comfort her, but only confusion and fear followed her into the encompassing blackness.
Cedric, Viscount Sheridan, cupped the girl’s chin and tilted her face to examine her. “Is she really out?”
The moonlight bathed her body, affording the men a decent look at their victim. Long, dark lashes lay against porcelain cheeks, which were tinted with a rosy blush.
“There’s one way to find out.” Godric’s hands swept over her body, returning several times to her waist where he’d discovered she was ticklish.
She remained limp and unresponsive to his exploration. “She is definitely out.” He climbed off her.
Charles and Lucien sauntered over on their horses.
Charles chuckled. “How many lords did you say it would take to subdue this little hellion?”
Lucien Russell, the Marquess of Rochester, bit back a grin.
“More than we guessed,” Ashton replied in amusement, gazing down at Emily.
Godric took in the dirty, but stunning little captive at his feet. “She’s not at all like her uncle.”
Heat pooled deep inside him. His brief memory of her had not done justice to the puzzle of Miss Emily Parr. He could not forget the way she’d fought him, even in fear. But knowing he’d scared her left a hollowness in his chest. He had expected to ignore her protestations and carry her off. What he hadn’t expected was for Emily to fight valiantly against him and leave him feeling every inch the villain.
Cedric stuffed the bottle of laudanum back into his waistcoat pocket. “Having second thoughts?”
Godric barked out a laugh and shrugged off his guilt. “Lord, no. You know me better than that, Cedric. She’s mine now.” He glanced at Emily again.
He felt oddly possessive of Emily, not that he had any right to. Still, the sudden urge to deposit the girl in a walled garden appealed greatly. Trap her in a tower like a princess from a fairy tale.
“The girl’s intrigued him,” Lucien said to his friends.
Godric gathered Emily into his arms.
He knew he must look a strange sight to his friends, taking such care with Emily. But something about her called to him. He ached for sensual touches, the slide of satin sheets against his skin, her silky body beneath his own. He hadn’t planned to seduce her, but the little hellion’s bravery had aroused him. She’d make for a wild bed partner. His lips curved into a smile at the thought.
“She can ride with me,” Charles offered hopefully.
“I’d sooner trust her with a drunken sailor.” With reluctance, his hands lingering, Godric handed Emily to Ashton instead.
Godric mounted his horse, then leaned down to retrieve her.
He cradled Emily sideways across his lap, one arm tightly about her waist, tucking her head under his chin to keep her steady.
The mere memory that Emily had almost outwitted him twice left Godric smiling. He’d not had such fun in ages. If he hadn’t given in to his urge to touch her, he’d never have found that ticklish spot at her waist, and she might have crept off while he and the others talked. Ashton was right; she was cunning—a trait she must have inherited from that uncle of hers. But her beauty? It amazed him. She bore not a single resemblance to the reedy Albert Parr.
The ride back to Godric’s country estate took an hour. They stopped once to dose Emily again with laudanum when she stirred like a sleepy kitten. The rub of her curled fists against his chest and her face burrowed against his throat, sent a thrill of pleasure through him.
He tried not to think about Emily or whether her lips tasted as sweet as they looked. He focused on the road ahead of them and his home, which lay just beyond.
The St. Laurent estate consisted of an extensive Georgian manor that rivaled the beauty of Chiswick House. His father and the Duke of Devonshire once had a friendly rivalry on the matter.
He studied the estate with new eyes, trying to imagine how Emily would perceive it.
The architect had styled the house, with six ivory columns in the front, like many of the greater Palladian homes in England. Godric’s ancestors built the upper parts of the manor with lovely ashlar stone, while the lower was rusticated, lending a lacing of texture to the manor, like a woman’s dress embroidered at the hem. Godric was surprised to find he was eager for Emily’s approval. If she was going to stay here for a while, he wanted her to find pleasure in her surroundings.
As soon as Godric rode up to his manor’s steps, a weary footman appeared and called for a groom. The elderly butler, Simkins, came to the door a moment later, escorting all the men into the hall once he assured care of their horses.
“Your Grace, we were not expecting visitors.” Simkins eyed Godric’s sleeping captive with open curiosity.
“Simkins, this is Miss Emily Parr. She will be my guest here for a while. Have Mrs. Downing assign her an upstairs maid to help her dress. See to her every need, but do not allow her to leave.”
“Of course, Your Grace. She shall be treated like a princess.”
“Don’t spoil her, Simkins,” Godric said, reconsidering. She was to be kept in a cage, so to speak, and it would be wise not to gild that cage, at least until she understood he was in control.
A sudden thought occurred to him. His valet, Jonathan Helprin, would need to be kept away from Emily. She was a temptation to any man, and young Helprin was not a typical valet. Having been born and raised under Godric’s roof, the younger man had a keen eye for the ladies, rather than clothes, where a good valet’s interests should be. “Oh, and Simkins,” Godric caught the butler’s attention. “Reassign Mr. Helprin to duties that keep him far away from my chambers. The house, if possible. Have one of the footman see to my needs in the interim.”
The older man hesitated, clearly confused. “Uh…yes, Your Grace. I will see Mr. Helprin is occupied elsewhere while your guest is in residence.”
“Thank you.”
Simkins then greeted the other four men who had followed Godric into the main hall. “My lords.”
“Simkins, you devil, how are you?” Charles laughed. “Miss me?”
Simkins almost smiled, but kept his controlled demeanor. “I am fine, Lord Lonsdale. The house has been much quieter since your last visit and I have slept well knowing that I did not need a fleet of footmen to scrub port stains out of the carpet in the drawing room.”
“Hmm, port sounds delightful. Bring me a glass when you have a chance?” Charles grinned at Simkins, who shook his head, muttering as he took his leave of the gentlemen.
Cedric pointed the way down the hall with the silver lion’s head of his cane. “Come on, Lucien. Let’s go warm ourselves by the fire.” They left, Charles tramping along after them.
Ashton followed Godric up the staircase, Emily still in his arms. Godric chose the room next to his, the one most often inhabited by a mistress. Unlike other gentlemen, he brazenly kept his mistresses at his estate, heedless of the gossip that might result.
Godric nodded his head to the door, indicating for Ashton to open it.
“Er…you mean to keep her so close to you?” Ashton politely inquired.
“Yes. She’ll likely keep trying to run off. I’ll be able to hear her better if she’s this close.”
Ashton swung the door open to reveal a four-poster bed adorned with a blue coverlet and lilac curtains. He set Emily down, lifted her head and placed a pillow under the gleaming coils of her hair. The pins from her coiffure had come loose during the struggle and he found he liked the wild disarray.
Ashton eyed the small door disguised as part of the wall, and Godric grinned.
“I know what you’re thinking, Ash…” The door led directly to his bedchamber.
“What you do with her is none of my business.” Despite his constant attempts to keep his close-knit group of friends under control, Ashton was no saint.
With a nod, Ashton excused himself and Godric remained behind. His eyes drifted over the helpless young woman on the bed. Mud and grit had stained the muslin of her gown. Smudges of dust colored her nose and cheeks. At first glance, she looked like a wild little orphan but the curves of her body left Godric painfully aware she was a woman. Unable to resist, he cupped her face in his hands, running the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks to rub the dirt away. Her skin was soft, and Emily stirred slightly at his touch, her body shifting against his right hip where he’d sat down next to her.
Emotions he’d long buried welled up, tightening his throat and burning in his chest. He was a lad again, mesmerized by the allure of a young woman. A time he could never reclaim, an innocence ripped from his bleeding soul years ago.
Standing up, he retreated to the doorway. He lingered there, his eyes tracing the shape of her body. An acute sense of longing struck him. He wanted to bind her to him, but she would slip through his fingers like grains of sand.
How would she react to him come morning? With resentment and disgust, no doubt. He’d dragged her from the coach, manhandled her and drugged her. He was no hero, and a woman like her deserved a knight astride a white charger.
He ruined everything he touched.
Godric’s head dropped as he closed the door and went to join his friends below.
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Conscious Calm: Keys to Freedom from Stress and Worry By Laura Maciuika
by Laura Maciuika
Stress relief can be elusive. With stress and anxiety so common, many people worry too much and wish the stress relief tips they’ve tried would work better. But while there is plenty of real, external stress, there is also what we do on the inside with stress, often without noticing it. Conscious Calm: Keys to Freedom from Stress and Worry reveals the internal world of stress and lasting stress management. This practical book describes the internal stress traps you can fall into without even knowing it, and shows you how to get free from those traps for good. Combining psychology and wisdom from both East and West in clear, accessible language, psychologist Dr. Laura Maciuika describes 9 Stress Secrets that keep you stuck in stress and worry cycles, and reveals 9 Keys to Conscious Calm, with simple steps for lasting, natural stress relief. In Conscious Calm you will discover:
This book also includes a free, downloadable Action Steps guide to help you transform stress and worry into greater calm, inner peace and happiness.
“Conscious Calm distills an amazing breadth of information into a readable, practical mini-manual. This is the must-read book if you want to bust stress and experience lasting calm and peace in your life.” – Marci Shimoff, NY Times bestselling author of Happy for No Reason and Love for No Reason
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“Integrating Eastern wisdom with Western science, this book gives you step by step, clearly explained procedures to rid yourself of stress. Dr. Maciuika is brilliant in the way she created simple, brief routines to enrich and enhance everyone’s life. This book is a must read for everyone and essential to those in the helping professions such as therapists, physicians, nurses, teachers and coaches.” – Cloé Madanes, author of Relationship Breakthrough and Strategic Family Therapy
Dr. Laura Maciuika is a clinical psychologist by training and a transformation mentor in practice. She was raised in Connecticut by Lithuanian parents, speaking Lithuanian at home and going to “Lith School” on Saturdays. This began her bridging of world views and cultures, which became Laura’s passion and joy both personally and professionally. She has over twenty years of experience facilitating people’s growth,healing and breakthroughs in settings from community mental health, to graduate schools, to workshops and trainings in the U.S. and abroad. Laura teaches and writes about practical ways to develop inner freedom for greater happiness and success. She switched coasts in 2004 and currently lives in northern California.
Freebies Galore! Nine Free eBooks & Apps!
Spotlight Freebie: Leah Reznikovich’s Thou Shalt Not Diet
Always check the price before you buy! This post is dated Oct 28, 2014. The titles mentioned may remain free only until midnight PST tonight.
KND refers to prices on the main Amazon.com website for US customers. Check the price on Amazon before making a purchase.
by Rick Johnson
For untold ages, the Granite Hulks at Tilk Duraow have been the impregnable center of the High One’s slaving system. Overpowering. Impenetrable. Final. The point from which there is no return. But now, fifteen-year-old Helga’s revolution—one she hardly expected to begin—is way bigger than she ever dreamed. Tilk Duraow itself is in danger.
by Bradley Convissar
For the first time, all 5 episodes of Bloodlines: A Serial Thriller (Abomination, Brutalization, Corruption, Damnation and Extinction) are contained in a single, exciting volume.
The Order of Seekers is a clandestine community of people with the unique ability to move through magic worlds. Your dear Uncle Richard, an elite member of this ancient order, has suddenly gone missing. After a period of despair, you realize that you too are blessed with these special powers and thus are the only one that can find him! Locate your beloved uncle, protect the sacred Artifact of the Order and thwart the forces threatening the entire society in this fantastic blend of hidden object tasks and puzzles!
by George Ellis
Best friends Eugene and Brianna are students at the prestigious Bhesar Institute, where only the cream of the crop are chosen to enter and become the community’s elite warriors. Eugene specializes in telepathy, and Brianna, camouflage. They are two of the institute’s top first-year students; none of the other first-years are as gifted.
Imagine a single daily alert, tailored to your personal reading preferences, featuring the best deals on the best Kindle ebooks. Sweet. But you don’t have to imagine. As you’ll see, we’re talking Grisham and Grafton, King and Kingsolver, Roberts and Rowling, Dan Brown and Sandra Brown, and other top-shelf bestselling authors too numerous to name. Then we sprinkle in 5-star freebies, dazzling boxed set alerts, indie discoveries, and must-read nonfiction — all absolutely free!
by Solomon Carter
Private Detectives, business partners and lovers, Eva Roberts and Dan Bradley are back in action, just as their heated love affair is hitting the rocks. When DI Rowntree asks Eva to help a foreign girl on the run from sex traffickers, Eva can hardly refuse. But when Eva meets Zdenka Kruz, nothing goes according to plan.
by Angela Ruane
BETH JOHNSON and her sister ESTHER are persuaded to join their community college’s start-your-own business course by their bossy younger sister, LUCINDA, despite having their hands full dealing with some big challenges in their already full lives.
From Cheryl Kaye Tardif, international bestselling author of Children of the Fog, comes a terrifying psychological thriller that will leave you breathless…
Don’t miss it at 80% off the regular price!
“Submerged reads like an approaching storm, full of darkness, dread and electricity. Prepare for your skin to crawl.”
After a tragic car accident claims the lives of his wife, Jane, and son, Ryan, Marcus Taylor is immersed in grief. But his family isn’t the only thing he has lost. An addiction to painkillers has taken away his career as a paramedic. Working as a 911 operator is now the closest he gets to redemption–until he gets a call from a woman trapped in a car.
Rebecca Kingston yearns for a quiet weekend getaway, so she can think about her impending divorce from her abusive husband. When a mysterious truck runs her off the road, she is pinned behind the steering wheel, unable to help her two children in the back seat. Her only lifeline is a cell phone with a quickly depleting battery and a stranger’s calm voice on the other end telling her everything will be all right.
Praise for Submerged:
“…her words burn up the pages. A wonderful, scary, heart-pumping writer.”
-M.J. Rose, international bestselling author
“…Cheryl Kaye Tardif takes you hostage with Submerged — a compelling tale of anguish and redemption.”
-Rick Mofina, bestselling author
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Download the entire book now to continue reading on Kindle!
Part coming-of-age story, part saga of fall and redemption, Songs for the Journey Home by William J. Cook is a captivating read
**Sample now for free!
by William J. Cook
Jonas Hall is having the worst day of his life. Over morning coffee he sees television news of a bank robbery gone terribly awry. A cell phone video of the event has gone viral on the Internet, and he discovers that the unnamed hostage killed in the aborted robbery had been his best friend fifty years ago when both attended St. Dunstan’s Seminary as adolescents studying for the Catholic priesthood.
After Jonas gets to his job as a mental health therapist in a local clinic, he is summarily escorted from the premises and placed on administrative leave when two young female patients of his come forward to claim that he sexually abused them during the course of psychotherapy.
To add insult to injury, he returns home that day only to be served divorce papers from his second wife.
With his personal and professional life in shambles, Jonas embarks on a quest to find out what happened to his best friend Step in the decades since his friend’s expulsion from St. Dunstan’s. How did Step wind up at the wrong end of a bank robber’s gun? The journey leads from a small Connecticut town to the teeming streets of Brownsville in New York City; from the sprawling civil rights March on Washington, D.C. to the folk music and coffee houses of Albany in upstate New York; from the chaos of the shootings at Kent State in Ohio to the lush Willamette Valley, pristine forests and rivers of western Oregon.
Part coming-of-age story, part saga of fall and redemption, Songs for the Journey Home looks at the contemporary crisis of faith that many people experience when they try to reconcile the ideals of the Christian faith with the realities of everyday life. Jonas must confront his own bitterness and unbelief, the faith he rejected in the face of all that happened at the seminary, his self-loathing and his counterfeit relationships as a therapist.
At times grim and gritty, at other times lyrical in its prose, Songs for the Journey Home spans the fifty years from 1962 to 2012 in an adventure of love and loss, treachery and murder, failure and heroism. It challenges the reader to examine the fundamental question of philosophy and spirituality : If this is what I know, then how shall I live ?
The highly anticipated continuation of the Cardwell Ranch Collection read by more than 2 MILLION!
B.J. Daniels’s romantic suspense Rescue at Cardwell Ranch – 99 cents for a limited time!
**Plus, today’s Kindle Daily Deals**
by B.J. Daniels
The highly anticipated continuation of the Cardwell Ranch Collection read by more than 2 MILLION!
Saving her once was risky. Rescuing her again may be fatal.
When Hayes Cardwell arrived in Big Sky, Montana, for his brother’s wedding, the Texas P.I. didn’t expect to play hero. But ever since he saved her from a brutal abductor, he can’t get McKenzie Sheldon out of his mind and heart. As passion blindsides him, Hayes vows to protect the beautiful business owner from once again becoming the target of a killer intent on finishing the job.
McKenzie was drawn to Hayes from the moment she awoke and saw the tall, dark cowboy who’d rushed to her rescue like some Western fantasy. With his lean, sexy looks and fierce protective instincts, the gun-shy bachelor is already lassoing her heart. But can he protect her from a danger that’s much closer than they think…a killer hiding in plain sight who’s about to spring a final trap?
5-Star Amazon Reviews
“BJ Daniels writes another beautiful romance full of suspense, Including murders, stalking and happily ever after! Once you start this book, you won’t be able to put it down until the end. I would highly recommend this book as a Great Read!”
“This book was amazing and kept you on the edge of your seat. Just when you thought you figured out who was who, something would change. I did not want to put the book down. I guarantee if you like mystery, this is the book for you.”
“… If you give this book a chance you will find yourself unable to put it down. Bj daniels isn’t just any romance writer. She has so much detail and passion in her writing. You won’t regret reading this book!!!!”
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