by Cindy Nord
No, she would wait until later to share the glorious news Euley had confirmed for her this afternoon. After verifying her suspicions, the old woman beamed from ear to ear. And with a loud whoop, she proudly proclaimed that all Emaline needed was the right man after all. A miracle, that’s what Emaline called the baby growing inside her. And come winter, that precious little miracle would be suckling at her breast.
Her breath slid out in a contented sigh.
Another lingering glance in her husband’s direction washed a current of love so strong over Emaline, she nearly sobbed. Theirs was a union born of strength and passion, created during a time that had tested both. They had surmounted all adversities and risen from the ashes of war into a magnificent Phoenix ready to embrace a new dawn.
Indeed, there could be no greater glory than that.
About the Author
Born in Arizona to a family of educators, Cindy Nord moved from the southwestern desert to southwestern Indiana during her teenage years. After the birth of her two sons, she became a stay-at-home mom. When the boys went down for naps, she settled in to read and escape into the world of historical novels. A thousand stories and a divorce later, Cindy pulled out her father’s Tower typewriter and decided she would write a saga that contained the elements SHE liked best in a hero.
Cindy met her husband, Tom, on a Civil War battlefield, where he was portraying a captain of the 14th Indiana Infantry. Right then and there, she decided to don a corset and become part of a unique little hobby called Civil War Reenacting, something she and her family could enjoy together. The rest, as they say, is history.
A member of numerous writers groups, Cindy’s work has finaled or won countless times in chapter competitions, including the prestigious Romance Writers of America National Golden Heart Contest. Her writing is fresh and intense, and conflict keeps the pages turning. A luscious blend of history and romance, her stories meld both genres around fast-paced action and emotionally driven characters.
Indeed, true love awaits you in the writings of Cindy Nord.
Website: www.cindynord.com
Facebook: Cindy Nord
Twitter: [email protected]
His greatest creation could be the death of them both.
The Iron Heart
© 2012 Leslie Dicken
One woman swears to avenge the savagery of a ruthless killer loose on the streets of Lundun; if only she can stay one step ahead of an inventor who fears that his greatest work, a labor of love, has turned on humanity.
Grieving the loss of her beloved cousin, Ella Wilder is determined to catch the murderer. Infuriated by the fumblings of the constable, she seeks the assistance of a handsome noble who seems to be looking for his own answers, and whose reluctance tells her he has something to hide. Over time, hesitant intimacy grows into fiery passion but brings them no closer to finding the madman.
As the killer reveals darker inventions that blur the boundary between man and machine, Ella fights the fear he may be after her next. Can Ella trust her heart to the man who refuses to share his secrets yet swears to protect her? Will Bennett be able to choose between keeping terrifying family secrets…or losing Ella to the iron-hearted killer who stalks the night?
Warning: This book contains a dirigible, flying machines, automatons, a sexy but secretive hero, a stubborn heroine, and a very determined killer.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Iron Heart:
“I found the candle!” She held it aloft. Her fingers enclosed the diameter as if it were the rigid shaft of his flesh. Her thumb caressed the length in slow, lazy circles.
The vixen! She was torturing him on purpose, pushing him beyond any sense of restraint. He crossed the room in long strides. “What schemes have you planned, Ella?”
Her eyes widened but he could hear her breathy gasps. “What-what are you talking about?”
Bennett snatched the candle from her hand. “This. Do you know the game you play?”
Her cheeks bloomed to a charming pink. “I found the object required of us. Why does that vex you?”
“You feign innocence. But all night you have batted your eyelashes at me, given me wicked grins, and fondled candles.”
“Fondled candles?”
Bennett arched his gaze over her in a long, deliberate stroke. He began at her bright lips, slipped over her silken shoulders, and then lingered on her generous breasts. His mouth watered, lips parted.
His voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. “Whatever your agenda, you have won. I cannot stand the torment any longer. Give me what I ask of you and you may have whatever you want of me in return.”
Ella’s tongue swept across her lower lip. “A…a fair bargain.”
Bennett snatched her against him. His hands plunged into her upswept hair, his mouth crushed on hers. She relaxed his embrace, enfolded her arms around his neck. Her hot, eager mouth opened to him.
He thrust his tongue inside her warmth and shivered when she matched his caress. She tasted of sweet wine and keen desire.
Devour.
Bennett could consume every cell of Ella and still not be satisfied. Once free of its confines, his hunger now roared. Blood surged, blazing and delirious.
He explored the warm margins of her mouth then demanded she discover his. She responded without hesitation, gave to him just as he’d asked. Her tongue delved between his lips and sought a most basic truth.
A truth he could not give.
Bennett brushed from her mouth to her neck. He nibbled the silken skin, listened to her throaty whimpers. Large earrings blocked his path, so he gently slipped them off and tucked them in a pocket.
“Ella…” The word rolled off his tongue and into her earlobe. She quaked against him and then gave a reckless sigh.
Her hands slid down his arms, squeezing as they went. She thrust her body against him. “Touch me.”
Bennett smoothed his hands down her shoulders then across her crushed mounds. His erection jerked as he fully encircled her breasts. It did not matter why she invited him, whether her wishes were real or motivated. This need was so primal, so selfish, it was a wonder he’d not yet stripped her bare.
“Yes.” Her sigh washed over in an urgent wave. Her hips rubbed his groin. Raw lust consumed each fiber, every nerve.
Bennett nuzzled her ear, squeezed her luscious flesh. “This is dangerous, Ella. This need haunts me.”
She whimpered. “I have a hollow ache. I…I don’t know what to do.”
His lip curled. He knew what to do. He could take care of her ache. With his fingers, his mouth, his pulsing arousal.
Her lips found the hollow of his neck. She pressed them to his skin in small, wicked nibbles. Bennett moaned, gripped Ella tighter when her tongue licked circles at his jugular.
His restraint unraveled like the laces on a woman’s bodice. It slipped out from the eyelets and loosened the control on his guard.
Something moved in his waistcoat. Her hands. Her fingers. Sweet heaven, she sought to undress him!
The movement continued unabated, even as Ella shifted in his grasp. Through the thick fog of lust, Bennett fumbled in his pockets. At last he touched the vibrating metal.
“What is it?” she whispered near his ear.
He withdrew the pocket watch and shifted the lever to stop the alarm. He’d been here too long. He’d nearly forgotten his duty.
The haze lifted. Sanity returned. Bennett stepped away from Ella.
“What…where are you going?”
He smoothed a hand through his hair and tugged on his clothes. “I must go.”
“Now?” She stepped toward him. “Where? Why?”
Bennett looked again at her kiss-swollen lips then headed for the door. He’d let his guard down too long.
“Good night, Ella. I’m sorry I was not more help with the riddles.”
She ran after him. “Wait. What about the bargain?”
The bargain. She only kissed him for whatever ridiculous task she had, used her body to
just satisfy his offer.
Lord, he still tasted her on his tongue, still breathed in her divine scent. Was it all a lie?
Bennett left the room. The cold, lonely darkness awaited him.
A ghost whisperer. A devilish captain. A killer thirsting to destroy their passion…
Silken Shadows
© 2012 Jennifer St. Giles
Killdaren, Book 3
On the day of her sister’s wedding ship, Gemini Andrews’s spirit heard the siren call of the sea. Over the past year it has become a friend that whispers to her heart, promising a full, blessed future.
That future is threatened by a string of gruesome murders that are too similar to those of a killer who vowed to destroy her sisters to be coincidence. She knows her psychic gifts can stop this evil, but her sisters think her too delicate. The enigmatic Captain Deverell Jenson, who stole her heart with one Christmas kiss, thinks her too young—for anything.
Determined to prove them all wrong, Gemini steals aboard Deverell’s Northrope-bound Black Dragon. Never realizing she is about to sail into a storm of passion as deep as the ocean…and a battle that will threaten not only their lives, but their eternal souls.
Only Deverell, a man too haunted by his past to believe in a future, has any hope of discovering the truth before the evil destroys them both.
Warning: Contains a devilish captain, scorching nights, and an evil that will chill you to the bone.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Silken Shadows:
“Are you reaching for the moon or the stars?” came Captain Jansen’s deep voice from behind me.
Lowering my arms, I swung around, shivering from the timbre of his voice. He stood in the shadows, leaning against the castle’s stones, smoking a cheroot. That he didn’t immediately extinguish the smoke, as propriety demanded, quickened my pulse. I didn’t want propriety. I stepped a little closer to see him better.
“Both the moon and the stars,” I said as my breath caught, hitching on the devilish shadows darkening his face. They revealed a dangerous edge about him, one that I realized I’d overlooked. For in the night, in the shadows, alone, without the comforts of home and family surrounding us, I could well see this man not only leading his ship through the fiercest of storms, but also slaying any foe…with deadly competence.
“Wanting what can’t be had leads a man to his downfall.” His gaze raked down my form with the same heat that had sizzled across the parlor. Suddenly the moon and the stars weren’t in the heavens, but were on the balcony in the shape of a man just a few steps away.
Drawn to him, I moved even closer. Much closer than was proper. He dropped and ground out his cheroot with the heel of his boot before bringing his gaze up to meet mine.
“That goes for young ladies as well,” he added, letting me know that he was well aware of my interest in him and telling me it was an impossible want.
A bristle of irritation scrubbed at me. He made it sound as if the reason was because I was a mere schoolgirl even though he didn’t look at me that way. My petite size might lead many to think I was younger, but eighteen was past the schoolroom door. I lifted a challenging brow and instinctively acted on the fire in his eyes by leaving less than an inch between us. “You not only make me wonder if you speak from experience, Captain Jansen, but also have me curious as to who determines what is acceptable to have.”
The heat radiating from his body seeped into mine. All I had to do was draw a deep breath and my bosom would likely brush the open edges of his coat. He’d dressed for dinner, wearing a black coat over a silver vest and crisp white shirt, but no matter how stylish his suit, the length of his unruly hair and the rugged cut of his features would always place him on the bow of a ship at sea rather than a formal parlor. I wondered where his hovering ghosts were. It was the first I’d seen him without them.
“Reason,” he replied. “And fact.”
“Whose reason and what facts?”
After studying my face a moment, he swore under his breath. “Do you even have a clue as to what you’ve been asking from me all night?”
I dampened my suddenly dry lips, feeling compelled to swallow. Wanting him to kiss me was one thing. Having to boldly state that desire aloud was another.
“Of course. I’m not ignorant of such things.” It wasn’t as if I hadn’t been kissed before. Both Lord Percy and Lord Ashton had brushed my lips with theirs. And I knew there was more to it. I’d inadvertently seen Sean kissing Cassie a few times and had to back away from them before being discovered.
“Such things?” His words came on a snort of amusement.
Before I could respond, he caught my shoulders, pulling my body flush to his in a dizzying rush. Pleasure, like a line of fire, ran from my breasts to my toes, weakening my knees. I leaned into him, clasping my hands into the material of his coat and silken vest.
His lips claimed mine, hot and demanding. This was no Lord Percy/Lord Ashton ghost of a kiss. This was real and my pulse raced as my heart pumped with dizzying force. A sigh of pure pleasure escaped me and I pressed my breasts harder against him, wanting more of the burning sensations, wanting to feel him with every part of me.
He cursed under his breath and thrust his tongue between my lips, caressing inside my lower lip before delving deeper and tangling with my tongue. The intrusion surprised me, but not enough to pull away. The kiss was suddenly so much more than I imagined it could be, so demanding and intimate and exciting. I opened to him, tasting him, wanting to know more, eagerly responding to his exploration by matching the stroke and swirl of his tongue with mine.
He stiffened and set his hands on my shoulders, as if he were going to ease back from me. I pulled him tighter to me, unwilling to end the excitement that was making me feel more alive than ever before.
He growled—there was no other word for the primal sound—deep in his throat and thrust his leg between mine. He ran his hands down my back to clutch my bottom and lift me to the demand of his mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers into his silken hair. He swung around, pressing my back to the cold stone as his thick thigh made contact with my feminine flesh so thoroughly that my feet didn’t even touch the ground.
He kissed me harder then, his tongue relentlessly thrusting against mine, sliding out just enough to make me want more before he invaded again. Between my legs, his thigh jerked slightly in tiny repetitive contractions that sent hot pulses of pleasure through my most intimate places, matching the rhythm of his tongue. Tension curled inside of me, a wild, heated need that made me want to shout and weep at the same time. My breathing became ragged. I moaned deeply when his hand cupped my breast. Then, as his fingers caught the tip of my breast and squeezed, I jerked and cried out sharply from the pleasure that had me so crazy I could do nothing but demand he give me more. My legs opened wider, needing him closer. I slid my knee up and encountered the hard ridge of what I knew had to be his male sex. I’d examined the nude statues at Killdaren’s Castle rather closely and I’d read everything I could, even medical journals from the library, so I knew what I was feeling, but I didn’t expect for it to be so alive and on fire against me. I pressed again.
“Bloody hell,” he said, lifting his head from mine, forcing me to release him. His chest heaved and his hands shook. A gust of chilly, salty wind blew in from the sea, cooling the air between us and rifling through his hair and mine. His ghosts were back. They were staring at me over his shoulder, their eyes bulging as wide as their jaws hung open. I ignored them. I had to, or I would have shouted at them.
The captain sucked in air and that is when I realized I wasn’t breathing. That I was getting faint from the lack of oxygen. I drew in a bracing breath, only to drown in the exotic flavor of his scent. It was nearly as potent as his touch. My legs, still clasped about his thigh, contracted.
He caught me up under my arms and lifted me from him, almost with the air of lifting an errant kitten out of harm’s way. Then he set me on feet that I wasn’t entirely sure I coul
d stand on.
“Miss Andrews,” he gasped. “I suggest you refrain from ‘such things’ until you’re older and you know just what end you’re headed to. I may be a murdering devil to a lot of men, but I don’t despoil virgin schoolgirls, no matter how desperately they ask.”
Murdering devil?
What was that supposed to mean? Surely I’d misunderstood him. “Luring devil” was more like it.
My head was still spinning and my senses were still burning, but I wasn’t so far lost in the storm of his passion that I didn’t realize he’d not only insulted me, but he’d adeptly absolved and denied his whole part in the passionate encounter. I knew enough to realize that. And, much to my chagrin, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say before he’d quickly turned on his heel and hurriedly left, going down the steps that led to the sea-swept shore.
No Greater Glory
Cindy Nord
Amid the carnage of war, he commandeers far more than just her home.
Widowed plantation owner Emaline McDaniels has struggled to hold on to her late husband’s dreams. Despite the responsibilities resting on her slender shoulders, she’ll not let anyone wrest away what’s left of her way of life—particularly a Yankee officer who wants to set up winter camp on her land.
With a defiance born of desperation, she defends her home as though it were the child she never had…and no mother gives up her child without a fight.
Despite the brazen wisp of a woman pointing a gun at his head, Colonel Reece Cutteridge has his orders. Requisition Shapinsay—and its valuable livestock—for his regiment’s use, and pay her with Union vouchers. He never expected her fierce determination, then her concern for his wounded, to upend his heart—and possibly his career.