Be teased from new release #historical fiction, #womensfiction from guest author Marlene Cheng

 

 

Women's fiction, Historical romance fiction

Date Published: August 30, 2022

 

 

The Inspector's Daughter and The Maid is a moving and delightful blend of historical and speculative romance fiction.

The foundations of traditional structures reveal themselves to be no longer stone, but sand, and in the hearts of the Inspector's Daughter and the Maid some natural ease gets broken, and their trust in a promising future loses its innocence.

In the severance of winds, beyond their wildest dreams, possibilities are awakened.

Which one will win the heart of the wealthy merchant's son - the Music Teacher?

 

Excerpt

It’s the city of Delft, the capital of the Dutch Republic, sometime in the mid-17th century. Nowhere in Delft is far from water. It’s a small city of canals, overflowing with humanity that ripples over a few acres and out the city gates into the low-lying farmland and to Oospoort, the city’s opening to the North Sea and to the world. To place it, a brisk morning’s walk will get you north to Hague, the centre of the Netherland’s government and courts. It’s a carriage ride to Amsterdam. The Reformation and a changed Christian practice may have been the instigator. But the foundations of traditional structures, of not only religion, but consequently, also of community and family, revealed themselves to be no longer stone, but sand. If this crumbling and the confusion it caused wasn’t happening, the Inspector’s Daughter and the Maid’s story may never have been told. The society, however, was not infrangible, and these juffrouwen were ripe. The social changes that were birthing, sprung from mindfulness towards humanity. Small incremental steps. No giant leaps. That’s what was best for the greater good. Seeds that consequence stories can be planted by previous generations, and, indeed, such is the case here. The mother of one of the girls was the progenitor. Thus, the story begins with he r.

 

About the Author

Marlene Cheng is a Maincrest Media and a Book Excellence award-winning author of women's fiction. Her books are about the relationships that define women's lives--romance, friendship, and family. Marlene is a keen observer of how people think and feel, and she writes lyrical, uplifting, and emotionally rich stories.

What is being said: "Today's best up-and-coming fiction writer."--Publishers Daily Reviews. "Marlene writes with great facility. Her writing is intelligent: her prose is poetic."--Dr. David Yeung MBBS FRCPC (certified psychiatrist). "A fantastic journey that takes readers to the innermost corners of the human heart."--Reader's Favorites.

Marlene was prairie-born, farm-raised, and now lives among the old-growth pine and cedar, overlooking the Pacific Ocean on the West Coast of Canada

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From @MissWishlade 'Her Montana Cowboy' #historical #westernromance new release

TITLE: Her Montana Cowboy

AUTHOR: +Molly Wishlade 

HEAT RATING: Sizzling

BOOK LENGTH: Short Novel

WORD COUNT: 33,101

ISBN: 978-1-78430-746-2

SEXOMETER: 2

FORMAT: eBook

GENRE: Cowboys and Western, Erotic Romance, Historical

RELEASE DATE: 6th October 2015

Falling in love wasn’t part of Huyana’s plan, but when Matthew Duggan claims her as his own, she has to open her heart or risk losing everything.

Life has been tough for Huyana. From the moment of her violent conception, the odds were stacked against her.

Meeting Matthew Duggan and his family changes her life forever.

Family can be close. People can be kind. Love can be good.

But a lifetime of rejection and abuse is difficult to overcome and Huyana struggles to trust the man she loves. There are secrets in her past and she fears revealing them.

Can Huyana find the happiness she craves and allow herself to be claimed by her Montana cowboy?

TOTALLY BOUND

AMAZON

ALL ROMANCE 

Chapter One

“Edie! Get yer ass in here!” The gravelly voice rang out in the small house.

Huyana froze and held her breath. The knife she’d been using to chop carrots slipped from her grasp and clattered onto the tabletop. She hugged her slim waist and listened carefully for sounds of movement.

Nothing.

Yet.

Had William Montgomery gone back to sleep? She hoped so. If he was asking for his wife then he was going to have one of his bad days and therefore the longer he rested, the better. At least if he woke later, she would have company to help her deal with him. Even with all her experience of people, the old man’s sudden fluctuations from joy to anger to confusion still unsettled her and she’d prefer to have someone else nearby.

Someone like Matthew Duggan?

She shrugged away the thought. In the short space of time in which she’d known the handsome cowboy, she’d seen only good in him. He’d been kind, helpful and attentive, even coming to find her in Virginia City, where she’d been employed as a maid, to offer her the post as carer to William Montgomery. Not that other folks were hammering down the Duggans’ door to get the position, of course. But Matthew knew that her employer was leaving town and Huyana would soon be without an income. Matthew had suggested that his older brother, Kenan, offer Huyana the job. And mighty glad she was about it too. At first. But now she knew how hard it was caring for William Montgomery alone, she wondered if she’d made the right decision.

But of course she had. What other choice did she have? With her circumstances and her questionable background, what else could she expect to do? Whore? Beg? Steal? The choices for a mixed-race woman were limited indeed. Besides, it meant that she got to see Matthew Duggan regularly, even if she did clam up like a sixteen-year-old maiden every time he stepped over the threshold.

“Edie!”

Huyana jumped. She’d have to go check on William. He was clearly distressed. His wife had been in the ground just over a month. Sometimes he remembered this clearly, but at other times, he still thought she was alive and well. A wave of sympathy washed over Huyana. She knew what it was to love and lose someone and William deserved her compassion. The poor man was dealing with his raw grief in his moments of lucidity. Healing would likely take him longer than the average person because he wasn’t experiencing the heartache constantly with its full ferocity. Instead, it came in agonizing bursts, then, as if his mind was protecting him, he regressed to his confused state and forgot all about Edie’s death until the next lucid period. It was like a slow form of torture, and Huyana wished on a daily basis that she could do something to alleviate William’s pain and anguish.

Huyana scooped up the carrots from the flat wooden chopping board and dropped them into a bowl then wiped her hands on her apron. She crossed the room and stood outside the door of William’s bedroom then rapped her knuckles against the wood.

“You all right in there, Mr. Montgomery?”

“Who in the hell is that?”

Huyana shivered as she heard the confusion in William’s tone.

“It’s me, Mr. Montgomery. Huyana. Your help.”

“Say what?” His voice was closer now, as if he muttered with his lips pressed against the wooden boards of the door. Huyana slowly unlocked the door and took a step back. The lock was a precautionary measure that the Duggans had insisted upon to prevent William from wandering off during the night when Huyana slept or when she was outside in the yard. “Who’s ya say yer?”

“Huyana.” Her own name tripped off her lips as it had done thousands of times before, but this time it filled her with dread because she feared his reaction.

“What in the hell kind of a name is that?”

The door swung inward and Huyana braced herself as William Montgomery staggered out into the main room of the house. He reminded her of an acorn calf, all unsteady on his legs and wary of his surroundings. Huyana winced as his stale smell reached her nostrils. She had only washed him last evening with Catherine Duggan’s help but it seemed that the old man had pissed his bed again. She’d left the pot right next to his bed in plain view, but unfortunately he didn’t always think to use it. At times, the floor and his undergarments seemed to serve him just as well.

Like an animal.

No.

Like a child. A poor helpless infant who sometimes doesn’t know right from wrong.

William stared around the room as if seeing it for the first time. He squinted against the September morning light that seeped through the small windows and warmed the floorboards. He eyed the fire that burned in the grate suspiciously, as if wondering how it had gotten there. His face held the look of a lost child as he scratched his matted gray hair, and Huyana’s heart broke for him.

It was going to be a bad day.

Molly Ann Wishlade has always been an avid reader and writer of stories. Her lifetime of reading has taken her from the magical worlds of The Faraway Tree and The Borrowers, to the Greek myths and legends, to Sweet Valley High and Judy Blume's Forever, to Asimov's science fiction, Jane Eyre's torment and Stephen King's masterpieces. More recently she has wandered through the vivid historicals of Philippa Gregory; the bubbly, gritty delights of Adele Parks and the fast paced thrillers of James Patterson. She loves getting lost in a novel and often regrets finishing one as the characters are usually missed like old friends. She regularly indulges her insatiable hunger for romance and passion in the delicious worlds created by romantic novelists and is working on several of her own!

What precious spare time she has is spent with her family (one gorgeous husband and two bright and beautiful children), taking long walks around the beautiful Welsh countryside (although she's still waiting for the rescue greyhound she wants to accompany her), cooking her own secret recipe curries, drinking Earl Grey (in copious amounts) and discovering delicious wines. Oh, and she also loves to ski and can't wait to go again! And buying shoes!

She wants to take readers on the rollercoaster that is life through the creation of her own characters, relationships and worlds.

She appreciates feedback, recipes and wine recommendations.

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Mary Wehr is my guest today with new #historical #western #spankingromance 'Charley's Pride'

Separated from her father for ten years, Charlotte was determined to leave Boston and travel to Kansas with or without her mother's permission.

 Propriety be damned! If it wasn't proper for a young girl to travel alone, she would disguise herself as a boy.

A man was considered lucky if he had a steady job,  a roof over his head and an obedient wife. Ranch foreman Slade Hazard already had two out of the three.

 A couple of docile ladies lived in Swiftwater, Kansas, and would fit his needs nicely. He might not be in love, but he'd be a faithful husband, a good provider and hopefully, in due time, a father. Yep, he knew exactly what he wanted, that is, until he met Charlotte "Charley" Henry. 

 The train ride to Cheyenne had gone off without a hitch, just as Charlotte thought it would. The jaunt on the stage taking her to Swiftwater, Kansas, should be a cinch.  Even better, the tall, broad shouldered man sharing the stagecoach was a dream come true. A pity she couldn't reveal her true gender to the handsome Slade Hazard, and try a bit of flirting. Then the stagecoach is held up by a trio of bandits. Slade is determined to keep the passengers safe, even if he has to threaten the unruly 'boy' with a good strapping.

 Charley's sassy mouth lands her into trouble and when the truth of her gender is in danger, she has no choice. She must reveal herself to Slade.

 Charlotte had never been spanked in her entire life, but Slade soon remedies the matter more than once. Her dream man wouldn't dare take her across his knee, but would she be content with a man she could run roughshod over?

 Slade thought he knew what he had wanted in a wife, but he actually enjoys sparring with the fiery redhead. Is it possible to fall in love at first sight? When Charlotte disappears just as the prisoner is released, more than one man fears for her safety. But who will find her first?

#spankingromance #historical #western

READ an EXCERPT

Charlotte ‘Charley’, and Slade meet for the first time. He’s not aware Charley is a girl, but Charlotte is certainly aware Slade is a man and a handsome one at that.  EnjoyJ  

Charlotte cast one last glance at the huge platform behind her. The journey by train had gone off  without a hitch. No one seemed to notice the young boy seated by himself. Clutching her bag to her chest, she weaved her way through the crowd, anxiously searching for the stage depot. When she found it, she hurried forward and paid her passage to Kansas. A man who introduced himself as Smitty took her bag and threw it on top of the stagecoach. He merely pointed to the small rickety ladder provided and she slowly climbed aboard. Once she was seated, another passenger had arrived. He was almost inside when the ladder swayed. Alarmed, he lunged and landed at Charlotte's feet. She immediately reached out, but he waved her hand away and climbed onto the seat by himself. Another five minutes had passed and when no one else showed up to board, Smitty shut the door. They were on their way to Kansas. Charlotte made herself more comfortable and closed her eyes.

"Whoa, Smitty, hold up a minute."

Charlotte's eyes shot wide open and she immediately straightened in her seat, anxious to see to whom that deep, booming voice outside the coach belonged. Her heart thumped wildly. The door swung open and she almost burst into a fit of nervous giggles.

Staring was downright rude, but she couldn't keep herself from ogling the handsome man.

This was the closest she had ever gotten to a real cowboy since she had been a little girl and she was going to enjoy every minute of it as a woman. Besides, he probably wouldn't give a hoot if she crossed her eyes and poked out her tongue.

His barely there nod set her tummy to flutter. He was so tall he had to hunch down or his head would have surely bumped the top of the coach. She only had a second to note how his broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist before he sat down. Denim pants wrapped snugly around muscled thighs and long legs. Her gaze settled upon his large hands and a tingle started at her toes, traveled up her legs, shot straight up to her hairline and settled between her legs. Charlotte clenched her pelvic muscles and it felt as if she had wet herself. She licked her lips and continued her perusal. There was a hint of a mustache on his upper lip and his chin sported dark stubble. Tiny lines at the corner of his eyes gave him a mature appearance and added to his appeal. She closed her eyes and sighed. She had to admit, he was much better looking than her dream man. Too bad she had to pretend to be a boy. She would have liked to practice a little flirting.

* * * * *

Slade grew more annoyed with each passing minute. Surely, the young brat seated across from him had been schooled in proper behavior. Staring was rude. Where were the kid's parents?

He was way to young to be traveling by himself. Maybe he was an orphan. A scrawny orphan at that. A strong wind could easily blow him over and those effeminate features had to be a curse. Slade had no doubt the poor kid had been a brunt of many jokes regarding his gender. Slade despised bullying of any kind. The very idea of the young boy possibly being subjected to abuse sickened him. Even though the boy irritated him, he'd make sure he came to no harm on the trip to Swiftwater. After that, the boy was on his own.

http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&p=3069

Amazon US   http://amzn.to/1G2RkxS

Amazon UK   http://amzn.to/10awGe1

Canadian author Susanne Matthews is my guest today with 'The Price of Honor' a #historical #paranormalromance new release

The Price of Honor

What price is a woman willing to pay to restore a man’s honor?

When her husband is falsely accused of treason and murdered, Isabelle de Caen vows to find those responsible and see justice done. Of royal descent, Isabelle is stunned when the king orders her hasty marriage to one of his favorites, a man she detests. To save herself from a fate too awful to contemplate, she disobeys the king’s edict and commits treason of her own to find the truth.

Childhood friend, Guy Poirier, an aristocrat in New France, has always loved Isabelle. When he discovers her hiding in his cabin aboard ship, he agrees to hide her from her fiancé and help her clear her husband’s name. It doesn’t take them long to realize there’s more at stake here than her husband’s murder. With the fate of the colony in their hands, can Isabelle and Guy prevent a war and find love in the new world? 

The Price of Honor is available from Amazon  and/or Solstice

About Susanne Matthews:

Susanne Matthews was born and raised in Eastern Ontario, Canada. She’s an avid reader of all types of books, especially those with a happily ever after. In her imagination, she’s travelled to foreign lands, past and present, and soared into the future. A retired educator, Susanne spends her time writing and creating adventures for her readers. She loves the ins and outs of romance, and the complex journey it takes to get from the first word to the last period of a novel. As she writes, her characters take on a life of their own, and she shares their fears and agonies on the road to self-discovery and love.

Follow Susanne on her:  Website    Blog    Facebook page    Twitter @jandsmatt

Amazon author page    and    Goodreads author page 

Excerpt from The Price of Honor

Isabelle sat in the coach stunned by the intensity of Guy’s kiss and her reaction to it. Never in her life had she felt such hunger, such desire, such need. The comtesse was wrong. There was fire inside her. It just took the right man to ignite it, and Guy was that man.

Pierre’s kisses had been gentle, his love-making sweet and pleasant, but it had never evoked the level of yearning she’d just felt in Guy’s arms. She raised her fingers to her swollen lips, still warm from his. She could still feel him there, taste him, and the cravings he’d initiated continued to burn within her.

She’d almost forgotten herself in his arms, given herself to him shamelessly, but a sudden stab of guilt had forced her to pull away. How could she be such a wanton scarcely three months after her husband’s death? Had she no shame? What must Guy think of her—not only a recent widow, but engaged to marry another man—behaving like a brazen courtesan? It was true she’d spent very little time with Pierre, but she did love him, even if that love seemed lukewarm compared to the emotions raging through her now. Love? No—this had to be lust, and she should be ashamed of herself.

As guilty as she felt about it, she sat back and closed her eyes trying to relive the experience. She might have asked to be kissed, but Guy had been a willing participant. Was he feeling guilty too, or did men feel such things? She’d been told men’s needs were different from women’s; they were more primeval, more blatantly physical. Guy had certainly been moved physically. She’d felt the bulge of his desire against her. Surely, this had to be more than lust.

Guy was a friend. He’d cared for her once. She’d found the violets he’d given her that long ago summer in the book of Spanish poetry her mother had given her. A book she’d hidden with the things she’d take with her today. Would he understand her act of treason? Isabelle pulled herself together. She’d succeeded in the first step of her plan. Not one man on that dock wouldn’t remember her. The kiss, given behind the carriage in the shelter of the door had been something special and private—a gift to herself in case her plan didn’t succeed. She’d learned valuable information from Guy—information to ensure the success of her escape. She knew the layout of the ship, the exact location of Sophie’s cabin, and had the perfect solution for getting back to Le Havre undetected.

Isabelle was out of the carriage and running into the lodge the moment the coach came to a halt. She sobbed loudly, thinking of Sophie and Guy, and how she’d feel if her plan failed, and she never saw either of them again. Any of the staff seeing her run by would think her heart was broken. She slammed her bedroom door shut. She had a lot to do, and the last thing she needed was to be interrupted.

The knock on the door was unexpected, and Isabelle started. The moment the door closed behind Murielle, Isabelle jumped off the bed. “Oh, Murielle, you scared the daylights out of me. The plan has to work; I’ll die if it doesn’t. I can’t marry the chevalier—not now, not ever.”