Angel Of Windword

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by Maggie Dove


  “How wonderful they are,” Angelique observed proudly. “Oh no, but they are ruining Marguerite’s flower garden! Come and see, Nicholas. They are doing more mischief than your parents can handle. Poor Edmund cannot chase after Colin, and Marguerite has fallen twice since I’ve been standing here.”

  “What about the nannies?” Nicholas grumbled.

  Coming up behind her, he folded his arms around her and held her to him as they looked below to where the children were playing: two tiny heads, one dark, one golden, giggling and evading the adults, intent on picking flowers. “Come back to bed, angel,” he murmured softly in her ear.

  A shiver ran up her spine; goose bumps covered her body. His tender and sultry words always had a way of making her melt. “Nich … Nicholas,” she purred, slowly losing her resolve as he nibbled her earlobe. “We have guests coming to celebrate our daughter’s first birthday. It is hardly fitting for us to be late. We’ve kept your parents waiting for over an hour.”

  “Let them wait,” Nicholas replied, his voice deepening huskily. His strong, muscular hands slowly turned her around to face him. “Love me, angel … my sweet angel of Windword,” he whispered before lifting her chin and pressing his lips to hers in a long, lingering kiss.

  “You are most stubborn, monsieur,” Angelique chided against his mouth, her lips curving into a grin. She knew from experience there was no reasoning with him when he desired her. Her in-laws could wait, she thought devilishly, as he carried her to the bed and had his way with her yet one more glorious time.

  About the Author

  Maggie Dove is a happily married mother of two college kids with time on her hands. Angel of Windword is her first novel, the first of the Windword Trilogy. She lives in Miami, Florida and loves to travel abroad.

  Available now from Eternal Press

  Carina and the Nobleman

  by Jannine Corti Petska

  Forced to the streets after her mother dies, Carina Gallo is desperate to survive and find her long lost sisters. Consumed with locating his missing brother, Count Luciano has forsaken his needs. When he catches beautiful and vulnerable Carina stealing from him, he takes pity and cares for her until she’s strong enough to work off her crime. Carina is forever grateful to Luciano, yet fears he will learn of her wicked secret and condemn her to burn. Will Luciano and Carina find a way to feed the mutual passions they share, or will heresy and obsession with lost family destroy them both?

  Carina sighed inwardly, truly amazed by the beautiful sight of her first lover. Count Ruggero’s long, well-proportioned legs reminded her of sturdy pillars. Her gaze drifted over the healing wound on his forearm then shifted to the blaze of desire turning his eyes dark gold. A thrill shivered through her body.until their monumental differences returned to afflict her conscience.

  “You know not what you are doing, my lord.”

  “No, angel. I know exactly what I am about to do.”

  “But you and I cannot. You are a count. I am merely a peasant.”

  He propped his hands on his hips. “Think you it matters to me?”

  “It should, my lord. I am not worthy of your attention, amorous or otherwise.”

  He showered her with a promising smile and stepped forward to help her remove her chemise. “When you and I are wearing naught, tell me of our differences, save for the obvious.”

  All she could do was tremble under his heated gaze.

  Available now from Eternal Press

  A Gift of Love

  by Wendy Stone

  Danielle had no idea what would happen to her when her cruel stepmother called for her. She didn’t know she was being sold in marriage to a man she’d never met. And when she did meet him, she couldn’t see beyond the foreboding mask he wore.

  Christopher would pay any price to win Danielle as his own, even respecting her request for separate bedrooms. But can his gentleness win her over, or will she always see him as the beast?

  “My Lord,” she said, her words almost whisper soft and breathless with nervous anticipation of his reaction. “I...I need to ask something of you.”

  Christopher sat down his fork, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and gave her his full attention. “Whatever I can do, Danielle, you have but to ask,” he said simply and with a gentle smile.

  Danielle could hear David’s insidious voice in her ear, his words of previous wives and the horror of her husband’s perversions making her even more nervous. And confused. His actions with her, his manner had been kind and gentle, not that of a horrible beast who planned abominable things that she couldn’t even imagine.

  “What is it, my Lady?”

  “I... I don’t want to share your bed.” The words blurted from her mouth quickly and without thought. As soon as they were spoken, she wished she could call them back. She saw the look in his eyes grow bitter, and he stared down at his gloved hand with animosity. Did he think his scars were.... “No, Christopher. Oh, God, no, it’s not that.” She flew from her chair around the small table until she knelt by his legs, looking up at him. “I just mean, we have only just met and don’t know how we will deal with the other yet. A few days, time for both of us to grow accustomed to the other.” Her hand reached out and touched his face, her fingers gentle on his unscarred cheek. “Can you not give me this, husband?”

  Available now from Eternal Press

  The White Dress

  by Anne Ireland

  Lexie has found the perfect wedding dress, but will it bring her luck? As she begins to see back into the past, things begin to happen. Perhaps she should have left the dress where she found it.

  Lexie looked at the dress with a thrill of excitement. It was hanging in a dim corner of the charity shop-and it was exactly what she wanted. The kind of dress she had seen in her dreams. Made of beautiful old lace and fine silk, it had yellowed with age and had rents in the material where it had frayed. Part of the hem had come loose and needed repairing.

  ‘‘Look,” she said, catching her mother’s arm. “Isn’t that just perfect?”

  “Lexie, no,’’ Mrs Hall said, looking at her in dismay. ‘‘You can’t. You can’t wear that for your wedding to Ben. Whatever would he think?’’

  “Ben knows I want an old-fashioned wedding. That’s why he is wearing his dress uniform.”

  “But there are plenty of pretty reproduction dresses. We saw some in that shop in London. We could go up next week and buy whatever you like.”

  Lexie wasn’t listening. The dress was calling to her, begging her to buy it. She knew she had to have it even if it wouldn’t clean up.

  “Do you think it is Regency, Mum?” She touched the dress with her fingertips, feeling a tingle right down to her spine. “Christmas wedding. I’ll wear silk Christmas roses in my hair and this dress.”

  “Lexie! I always knew you were quite mad-but if it is what you want, I know someone who might be able to make it look decent for you.”

  “Bless you,” Lexie said. “But I am going to do it myself.” She knew that if she managed to get the dress, she wouldn’t want it out of her sight for a moment. It was so beautiful and just perfect for her.

 

 

 


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