Romance Books '4' Us

So sorry guys, I  posted today but posted it to the wrong blog. All I can say is for some reason my family went wacko over my birthday, which was yesterday. Son came from New York, and lots of fuss made culminating in a lovely dinner last night at the local fish house. We had a table by the window where we could watch the sun set over the ocean, and then spotlit waves. A birthday to remember.

Here's an excerpt from my latest, and I think my best book. It's on presale now at Amazon and will officially debut on the first of March.

Here are the opening lines of the book.....

London, 1820, May 19^th

From the diary of Adam Landry, Earl of Beaufort:

3 A.M. I do not know how long I can bear these haunting ghosts and still keep my sanity—these ghastly nightmares that haunt me with terrifying regularity, all those wounded and dying men. Their hideous visions invaded my sleep again last night, and my own screams wakened me once more. What in hell’s name can I do to diminish their power over me?

* * * *

Adam Landry dressed for the day, deliberately submerging his thoughts with studied stoicism. Parkins, his valet and former batman, silently tied his cravat, and now adjusted the grey superfine coat over Adam’s impressive shoulders. Adam glanced at his reflection in the glass, reassuring himself there was nothing unusual. But then his distressing nights seldom left a mark others would notice.

Before he checked with the ministry, he’d walk to Hatchard’s and search for some lighter books to help him pass the time between his nightmares and daylight. He’d tried re-reading Ovid last night, but found it impossible. So he’d sat with his haunting thoughts until the dawning sun had cut through the morning mists—his futile thoughts that only deepened his remorse.

The day was a fine one, an almost-blue sky with fluffy clouds scudding after each other. The playful wind was a delight after the last few stormy months, and he found his spirits rising as he strode along Piccadilly, swinging his cane. He would read the latest Paris papers before choosing a book or two.

He swung open the door to Hatchard’s.

A sudden thump in the chest jolted him to a standstill before he could take a step through the door. He automatically reached down and grabbed the arms of the female who’d just crashed into him. A furious young lady, whose medium size made him wonder how she could have barreled into him with enough force to jar his hat to one side of his head. She was clutching frantically at a huge stack of books. He saved her from falling, but not the books, all of which went flying. She turned in his grasp and glared up at him in sputtering anger.

“Unhand me, you big oaf! Just look what you’ve done!”

Irate amber eyes, large and thickly lashed, glowered as he watched her in fascination. Would her eyes shoot golden sparks for any other passion than anger? He’d seldom seen a female so incensed. He thought of telling her she’d crashed into him but decided that wouldn’t be diplomatic right now. She probably hadn’t been able to see over that heap she was carrying.

She wrenched out of his grasp and tried to tuck back golden-brown hair that had loosened when her bonnet had dislodged. Then with an enchanting but furious moue, she gave up on her hair, but not on scolding him.

“You lumbering lout, you’ve made me drop every one. Oh, look at that, I think her spine is broken.”

Adam raised his eyebrows, finding no one else around and wondering if he should be alarmed.

“I see no one, madam.”

“Nefertiti,” the little whirlwind wailed. “I’m sure the binding is cracked. I’ll never forgive you if my books are ruined.”

Adam could hardly contain his smile. Certainly, it was curious to see any female so upset about books. Women could get remarkably perturbed about their appearance, but the status of a book? Up until now he’d thought his experience was at least more than knowledgeable. This girl was certainly not your average simpering miss. He started to pick up the books, noting they were all concerned with women of history, when she snatched a book from his hand.

“I’ll pick them up myself,” she snapped."

I'll post this now and hope it's not too late to be a responsible blogger!