By: Eva Leigh
Releasing
April 26, 2015
Avon
Avon
Blurb
Eva Leigh’s deliciously sexy Wicked Quills of London series continues as a Lady’s secret career writing erotic fiction is jeopardized by real-life romance . . .
Eva Leigh’s deliciously sexy Wicked Quills of London series continues as a Lady’s secret career writing erotic fiction is jeopardized by real-life romance . . .
In society circles she’s known as the
Watching Wallflower—shy, quiet, and certainly never scandalous. Yet beneath
Lady Sarah Frampton’s demure façade hides the mind of The Lady of Dubious
Quality, author of the most titillating erotic fiction the ton has
ever seen. Sarah knows discovery would lead to her ruin, but marriage—to a
vicar, no less—could help protect her from slander. An especially tempting
option when the clergyman in question is the handsome, intriguing Jeremy
Cleland.
Tasked with unmasking London’s most
scandalous author by his powerful family, Jeremy has no idea that his
beautiful, innocent bride is the very woman he seeks to destroy. His mission
must remain a secret, even from the new wife who stirs his deepest longings. Yet
when the truth comes to light, Sarah and Jeremy’s newfound love will be tested.
Will Sarah’s secret identity tear them apart or will the temptations of his
wallflower wife prove too wicked to resist?
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2016/04/temptations-of-wallflower-wicked-quills.html
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26029537-temptations-of-a-wallflower
Goodreads Series Link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/138344-the-wicked-quills-of-london
Buy Links: Amazon | B & N | Google Play | iTunes | Kobo
Author
Info
EVA LEIGH is the pen name of a RITA® Award-nominated
romance author who writes novels chock-full of smart women and sexy men. She
enjoys baking, Tweeting about boots, and listening to music from the ‘80s. Eva
and her husband live in Central California.
Rafflecopter Giveaway (Print copies of
Wicked Quills books 1 & 2: FOREVER YOUR EARL and SCANDAL TAKES THE STAGE)
Link to Rafflecopter Page, http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/521ac4c81007/?
Excerpt
Now it
was her turn to laugh. “I’m hardly enviable, Mr. Cleland.”
His
expression shifted to thoughtfulness. “I wonder why you might say that.”
“I
have…everything a woman could want,” she acknowledged, matching her stride to
his.
“Such
as?”
“Wealth,
position. If there’s a material thing that I desire, I simply have to ask, and
it’s mine.” She shook her head. “And I’m grateful for these things. I truly am.
And yet…”
“And
yet…?” he prompted gently.
“It comes
at a high price,” she admitted.
“What
is that price?”
She
considered this. Never before had she spoken so openly to anyone. Not her
friends, or her family. But here, now, to be with this man, and to consider the
foundations of her life, was both odd and deeply right. At last, she said,
“Freedom.”
He
contemplated her perceptively. “Must be very restricting,” he murmured. “The
responsibilities of your position in society. Not to mention the fact that
you’re a woman.” He blushed a little at that word.
It was
a charming—but also gently erotic—blush. Her own cheeks warmed.
He
continued, “You haven’t the liberty that a man in your place might have.”
“Indeed,
no.” She gave a small, strained laugh. “You must think me dreadful to take
issue with my admittedly fortunate circumstance.”
He
fell briefly silent. “I know a little about having one’s role be
predetermined.” They stopped walking, and she gazed up at him. Cool sunlight
carved hollows in his cheeks and gilded his eyelashes. “Being a vicar means I
must be a model to everyone in my parish. I have to be more pious, more humble,
more self-sacrificing. I have to be better at everything while also being
deferential. I certainly cannot admit to being an ordinary human man.”
Their
gazes held at that word, man.
Awareness of him sizzled. His height, his physicality. That suppressed desire.
Her own body warmed in response.
She
tiled her head to one side, imagining what it must be like to live such a
restrained life. “Sounds exhausting.”
“Not
unlike being a duke’s daughter, I imagine.” He smiled at her, and that lush
warmth continued to gathered through her.
“I
never would have thought I’d have much in common with a vicar,” she said with a
laugh.
“Nor I
with you,” he answered, his smile softening. “But here we are, in this garden.”
“So we
are.” Strange how the world worked, that she discovered a man such as him on a
day that had started out so perfectly ordinary. It was almost…miraculous. Did
miracles happen? She went to church as a matter of form, not faith, though the
ritual gave her comfort. Still, it was a revelation to learn that men of God
were mortal just like anyone else, with the same needs and frustrations anybody
might experience.
She
ought to have imagined as such. She often imbued people in her mind with hidden
motivations and secrets. He was no exception.
“And
does your…wife…feel as you do?” She inwardly grimaced at her lack of tact, but
she needed to know whether or not he had someone with whom he could confide. It
seemed a shame, a right shame, that he should be alone in this world.
“No
wife, I’m afraid,” he said with a self-deprecating grin.
A
strange relief shot through her. She reasoned that it must be because it
wouldn’t do to flirt with a married man. “Stick around the London Season long
enough,” she replied. “An earl’s son, with a living? You’ll make someone a fine
catch.”
“I’m
just a humble country vicar,” he answered. “Hardly the stuff of a doting mama’s
dream for her daughter.”
“You
might be surprised.” Without a doubt, she and Mr. Cleland could never be a
match. Even if she wanted to marry, he stood too far beneath her to warrant any
possibility of courtship. Duke’s daughters and vicars—though they might be sons
of earls—made for an improbable, mismatched pairing.
A
vicar could never be married to a woman who wrote anonymous erotic novels,
either. The very idea was ruinous.
But
damn and all the other curse words she wasn’t allowed to use—she liked Mr.
Cleland. The way his mind worked, how he spoke to her like a person of equal
intelligence, the sensual quality within him. It wasn’t all her writer’s fancy.
Something burned in him and it lured her closer, closer, drawn toward the
mysteries of this man. Even Lady Josephina wouldn’t find someone half as
interesting in her adventures.
And…he
was exceptionally attractive. In a way she’d never experienced with another man
before. She’d met handsome gentlemen in the past, but Mr. Cleland lit a spark
within her, low and hot.
A
shame, really, that Sarah couldn’t have been someone else. Because, if she
had…she might give him serious consideration.
But
that was never to be. She was who she was, and he was who he was, and they
would have to be friends—nothing more.
So
absorbed was she in this thought, that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching
until they were almost upon her. Turning, she saw her mother coming down the
path, wearing a pinched expression.
“There
you are,” Lady Wakefield said impatiently. She nodded at Mr. Cleland, barely
acknowledging him. Sarah felt a small stab of shame at her mother’s rudeness.
But a vicar didn’t warrant much attention. “This sun has given me a headache.
It’s time to go.”
“Yes,
Mama.” Before the words had left her mouth, her mother had spun on her heel and
strode off back toward the main house.
Sarah
offered Mr. Cleland a remorseful smile. “I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing
to apologize for,” he said easily, and it was clear he meant it. He bowed. “It
was a genuine pleasure to meet you, Lady Sarah.”
“I
feel the same way.” They smiled at each other. For a long time, neither, it
seemed, willing to move away.
“Now,
Sarah,” her mother called out.
Sarah
sighed. Her gaze drifted back to the hedge maze. Could she drop her fan? As
they both bent to retrieve it, she might whisper to him an invitation to meet
her there in a few moments. And then… She could taste those gently curved lips
of his. Oh, she’d experienced a few chaste kisses before, but never anything
she truly desired. But she wanted to kiss Mr. Cleland. She craved feeling his
mouth against hers, and seeing if her imagination was correct about him.
He,
too, looked at the maze. Was he thinking the same thoughts? Did he want to
savor her? A delectable thought, one that made her feel both languid and
powerfully alive all at once.
Their
gazes met. He turned gorgeously pink.
He was thinking
of kissing her!
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