Wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season filled with loved ones and happy memories. <3

Suzanna

Among other things, we’ll be giving away a tiara, a Paris bag, and a feather quill pen.

I have one of these pens myself (it’s labelled a quill pen, but in actuality it’s a fountain pen) and I love it! This is what it looks like:

Good luck!

Suzanna

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tarnished Honor, by Sabrina York

Daniel Sinclair is a broken man with wounds that are physical and spiritual. He’s weighed down by grief and guilt that he could not save his friend, Graeme Lennox, and is convinced that a French lance left him less than a man. He has no prospects. Nothing left but his tarnished honor. But then he meets a vexing boy who makes him question even that.

Fia Lennox’s world turned on its end with her brother’s death. She’s gone in one fell swoop from lady to servant…to a woman on the run. The world is a dangerous place for a woman alone—even when she is masquerading as a boy—so when she meets up with a strong, valiant ex-cavalryman, she decides to become his traveling companion. Whether he likes it or not.

Battling villains, would-be-friends and their own finely-forged battlements, Fia and Daniel rush toward their destiny, a scorching passion and, hopefully, redemption. Can love conquer all? Even the ghosts of the past?

Excerpt (Copyright 2015 Sabrina York, all rights reserved)

Glorious.

There was no other word for it. Simply glorious.

Daniel tipped his face up to the sky and grinned. The sun was shining and the breeze was mild. The sky was blue and tufted with fat white clouds. It was a lovely day to travel—it could have been raining, could have been cold. But since he’d set out from London, on this lengthy journey to Inverness, each day had been prettier than the last.

His mood had improved too. He was swamped with the conviction that he’d done the right thing, leaving his haven. As much as he appreciated his position at the club, he’d allowed himself to sink into it, into the rut of it. He’d allowed himself to wallow in his woes.

There was no wallowing on the road; there simply wasn’t time for it.

It was energizing to be traveling again, invigorating to be out in the world, breathing fresh air and going somewhere. He enjoyed the solitude, the quiet, the absence of need to make conversation.

That left him alone with his thoughts, his regrets, his guilt, but such specters had haunted him for so long, they were like old companions. He wouldn’t know who he was without them.

Aye. This was far more healing than any medicine—the power of his mount between his thighs, the kiss of warmth on his face, the movement. Surprisingly, his leg hardly pained him at all, except when he moved suddenly. In fact, it even felt better after several days of riding. He hadn’t fallen off his horse once.

Hunnam was in good form as well. No doubt he’d enjoyed the fresh air and the chance to prance once again. An hour’s exercise a day was one thing, but for a Scots Grey, the chance to run and run wild spoke to his soul.

It spoke to Daniel’s too, so he put his heels to his mount’s sides and gave him his head.

And it was glorious.

He hadn’t realized how closed up he’d allowed himself to become. How isolated. He hadn’t realized how much he’d allowed his injury—and his guilt—to shrink his horizons.

Well, his horizons weren’t limited now. They spread before him in a verdant green wash that stretched as far as the eye could see. He passed a loch and paused to admire the sparkling waters, to watch an osprey swoop down to snatch a hapless fish.

And damn, but it was a fine thing to be back in Scotland. Daniel hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed hearing the lilt of his own brogue, or tasting a well-made haggis. The Brits didn’t care for haggis, a fact he’d never quite understood. When created by someone who knew what they were doing, it was delicious. And Scottish innkeepers, apparently, knew what they were doing. Or their wives did.

There was no doubt about it, he’d probably gained a stone since crossing the border to his homeland. He’d never felt so vibrant and alive. And while he had enjoyed the occasional chat with a fellow countryman, he had never enjoyed his own company more. There was something about being alone with one’s thoughts that was very peaceful. It allowed a man to explore his soul at leisure without interruptions. It allowed a man to process all that had happened in his life. To put everything in the place it belonged. Though he still had several days of travel, at most a week, he was already lamenting the journey’s end.

After he passed the Kinclaven Crossroads, the landscape changed from fields and farms to orchards. The looming trees shaded the road in a lacy pattern; the scent of crisp apples filled the air, tempting Daniel to reach up and pluck one for a taste.

He did not. That would be stealing and he was a man of honor.

He pulled back on Hunnam’s reins when he spotted a white mare standing in the road. She was difficult to miss. Her lines were exquisite, her saddle and tack were the finest…but she had no rider. His brow wrinkled as he rode closer. No one would ever abandon such a fine horse. It was—

“Blast.”

The imprecation came from the leafy tree next to which the mare stood.

Daniel glanced up; the boughs riffled. An apple fell to the ground.

The mare whinnied and walked over to it, lipping up the treat.

Another apple fell and the horse made short work of that one was well.

“Stop eating them all,” the tree said. “Save some for me.”

Daniel cleared his throat. It seemed prudent to make himself known. “Hullo?”

The leaves rustled and a face peered out. Enormous blue-green eyes stared at him. Something flickered through them. Something that could have been construed as…guilt.

Daniel frowned. “What are you doing up there?” he asked.

The eyes blinked. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He drummed his fingers on his saddle. “Are you stealing apples?”

The chagrined expression on that elfin face was nearly whimsical. “Is this your orchard?”

“Indeed it is not.”

An entrancing, mischievous smile blossomed and the thief tossed him a fat red apple. “Then catch.”

He did not. He did not catch. The apple bounced off his pate.

“Oh really,” an amused voice echoed from above. “Let’s try again.”

“Let’s not.”

Too late. Another apple flew in his direction. He missed it again. It fell to the ground and Hunnam gobbled it up.

“Sir, you are supposed to catch them.”

“I doona care to abet you in your thievery—” Another missile flew. By the grace of God, he caught this one. “Please stop throwing stolen apples at me.” It was large and red and shiny and looked delicious. Aside from that, it smelled quite tantalizing. As he felt he had earned it, he polished it on his lapel and took a bite. Flavor exploded in his mouth and juice dribbled down his chin. They were excellent apples.

The face disappeared, followed by more rustling. A satchel fell to the loam with a soft thud. Then a pair of feet appeared. Legs. Slim hips. Slender shoulders and then a mop of tousled black curls.

A boy dropped to the ground with an oof. He looked up at Daniel, his head tipped saucily to the side, and then he grinned. It was a rakish grin. “Not stealing,” he said. “Borrowing.”

This he said with such conviction, Daniel had to struggle not to laugh. This was no laughing matter. Thieves ended up in the gaol. “Ah. Borrowing. Surely you won’t mind explaining that to him.” Daniel nodded to the distance, where a farmer was running through the trees toward them, arms flailing.

The boy’s eyes widened. He picked up the satchel and hefted it over his shoulder. Then he bounded into the saddle and shot a glance back at Daniel. His grin was wicked as he urged his mount forward…leaving Daniel behind to explain to the farmer why his apples were missing.

And why apple juice dribbled from his chin.

*****

About Sabrina York

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. With over 25 titles her books range from sweet & snarky to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests.

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Love After Waterloo, by Suzi Love

Lady Anne Melton joins her brothers on the continent after the death of her soldier husband, hoping to keep her unborn baby from the clutches of his strict relations. With one brother an army physician and the other on Wellington’s staff, Anne uses her nursing skills at the battlefields and feels safer with them than in London. Captain Gabriel Belling deems ladies near the army an unnecessary distraction for soldiers and makes his feelings known to Anne when they meet in Brussels.

But when Gabe, Anne, and her son travel with the last group of wounded to leave Waterloo, they learn to depend on each other’s skills, Gabe as a soldier and leader and Anne as a compassionate nurse, during their skirmishes with crazed deserters from both armies. In London, social restrictions force them apart, with Gabe opening his club for returning soldiers while Anne battles her son’s grandparents.

When Anne begs for Gabe’s protection, will their love be enough to overcome their troubles and form a family?

Excerpt (Copyright 2015 Suzi Love, all rights reserved)

“Mama, why doesn’t that man like me?” Daniel asked, his singsong voice echoing loudly around the walled chamber.

Slowly, the Captain turned to face them. He took two steps closer to Daniel and squatted as low as he could manage on one leg, while keeping his bandaged leg straight and using it for balance. “I apologize, your lordship.” He spoke directly to Daniel. “My name is Gabe, and I don’t dislike you. In fact, you remind me of my three nephews and I like them. A lot.” He sighed. “I have several decisions to make, difficult decisions, but that isn’t an excuse for bad manners.” He glanced up at Anne. “As I’m certain your mother has told you.”

Daniel nodded. “Uncle Bren told me to be good for Mama, and you, ‘cause you’re the Captain and you’re taking me and Mama to En…En…” He tugged on her hand. “Where we going, Mama?”

Lady Melton smiled at her son. “England, darling. We’re going to England.”

Daniel pulled his hand from hers and stepped up to the Captain, careful to avoid his bandaged leg. His tiny hand rested on Gabe’s shoulder and he patted him. “My mama will help. Mama knows ‘bout Englin, and she makes sores better.” He pointed at Gabe’s outstretched leg. “Kisses make it better.”

Anne gasped, while Gabe chuckled. His amber eyes held a twinkle as he spoke to Daniel. “I’m sure your mama’s kisses would make any man feel better.” He looked up at her and smirked. “Will you kiss me, Lady Melton?”

Anne groaned and put her hands to her burning cheeks, thankful that Daniel’s focus was on his new friend and not her red face. When Gabe stood and slowly drew his bandaged leg under him, Anne realized that he didn’t have his crutch.

“Captain, please, lean on me.” She moved closer and was relieved when, with a muffled groan, he slid his arm around her shoulder and settled a little of his weight on her.

His eyes closed momentarily and he shuddered. Daniel reached up and again patted Gabe’s hand, before turning begging eyes towards her. “Mama, make man’s sore better?”

She’d planned to evaluate the Captain’s capabilities from a distance, thereby avoiding another discussion about scandalous ladies who assisted surgeons, but between her son’s pleading and the Captain’s obvious pain, she had no choice. Years of caring for the sick meant she could no more turn her back on a person in pain than she could feign interest in endless drawing room discussions on the weather. Treating the Captain’s wound, and reducing his pain, might also lead to a shorter journey, because his focus would be on maps and roads rather than his leg.

“Captain Belling−”

“Please, as we’re to live in close quarters for a time, let’s dispense with formality.” He gave her the sort of winsome smile that would cause many women to swoon. “My name is Gabriel, or Gabe if you wish.”

She hesitated. A week ago, she’d thought the man insufferable, so suddenly becoming the recipient of his debonair charm made her squirm. The first lesson she’d learned when making her social debut was that rogues and rakes should never be trusted. Still, if a temporary truce ensured an easier journey for Daniel, she’d disregard her previous impressions of him as narrow-minded and condescending, and treat him as a friend.

She nodded. “Gabe, will you allow me to inspect your wound? I’ve had considerable experience with slashes from swords, and I know several methods to increase blood flow, reduce the swelling, and lessen the pain.”

He stiffened, stood to his full height, and removed his arm. “Thank you for the offer, Lady Melton, but a surgeon will treat my laceration when we reach London.”

“But that could be a week. Ten days.” She glowered at the obstinate man.
“And my name is Anne.”

“I’m hoping for a quicker trip than that, Anne, depending on how many problems we encounter.”

“You mean, how many deserters.”

She glanced down at Daniel who had returned to lean heavily against her side, a sign he was ready for a meal and bed. After picking up her son, she followed Gabe as he hobbled back to the table, took up his crutch, and used it instead of her shoulder. Not that she’d tell him, but she often missed the feel of a strong male arm enclosing her. Missed a man’s body touching hers, even if that heavy maleness meant extra weight to support.

Gabe watched Daniel carefully and took his time replying. “We’re planning on a straightforward journey directly to the coast, and then a smooth sail across the Channel. So let’s not dwell on what may or may not happen along the way. Every soldier in our group suffers from some sort of injury, but we’re well trained and will keep you safe.” He smiled at Daniel and reached out his hand. “You’ll soon be in England, young sir.”

*****

About Suzi Love

Tag Line- Making history fun, one year at a time

I’m Suzi Love, an Australian author of historical romances from the late Regency to early Victorian years, with a little bit of the Australian outback thrown in.

I’ve had a lifetime fascination with all things old, weird, and exotic. I love to travel, visit historic places, and talk to crazy characters. I also adore history, especially the grittier and seamier side, so I write about heroes and heroines who challenge traditional manners, morals, and occupations, either through necessity or desire. I hope you’ll travel with me again.

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Suzi Love
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