She gasped and tears filled her eyes. "Oh, James. Of course I will."
Happiness flooded his soul until huge, gasping sobs overtook her and she sat on the chaise with her face in her hands. That didn't sound like happy tears. Was she…having second thoughts?
James scooted closer to her, and placed his hands on her knees. "Speak to me. Did I do something wrong? Do you want to go back home?"
"No!" she shouted and covered her mouth. She then placed her hands on his face and caressed his cheeks with her thumbs. "I'm so sorry. Do you know the significance of this ring?"
He blinked. She'd reacted that way over the ring? "No, I don't. Poseidon only said red means passion." Had James chosen wrong?
Ione sniffled and ran a finger over the stone. "My father, Nereus, gave a token to my mother every time she conceived. One for all fifty of us. This was the ring he gave her when she was pregnant with me." She sniffled. "I haven't seen her in centuries. Poseidon must have informed her of my decision. For him to have had this to offer you, it was as good as having her blessing."
He…had no words. No wonder it had triggered a reaction. But how had the god known he'd pick it? She hadn't really spoken of her parents, other than that her mother had been an ocean nymph and her father a god. Family matters would be a nightmare, especially with her made up past to keep straight for his family. "Were you close to your parents?"
She shook her head. "My father hid himself away after the Titans were imprisoned. My mother, well, all her daughters with Nereus are sea nymphs, so we don't see her often. She prefers the deep of the oceans and loses track of the passing of time."
There was only one thing to do to fill the void of missing her family. "Invite her to the wedding."
Ione's mouth dropped open.
"And all forty-nine sisters and your father and cousins too, if you wish."
She started to sputter. "How—how would we explain them or accommodate them for that matter?"
He stood and pulled her up next to him, then kissed her and smiled against her lips. "We'll have the wedding at Summerfield, by the sea. We will think of the hows and explanations later. But for now… let's go tell everyone the good news."
She didn't budge when he pulled on her hand to lead her from the room, so he turned back. If she'd been radiant before, she was resplendent now. The sun haloed light around her golden skin and it was like the gods had sent him their greatest treasure to cherish forever. "I love you, James Harlow. So much."
James smiled back and kissed her again. Slower, deeper. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with her. "And I love you."
EXCERPT: THE UNRAVELING
REBEKAH LEWIS
PROLOGUE
Hatter bit the thread he held taut and smiled at the reassuring, subtle pop when it snapped. He jabbed the sewing needle into a large pincushion on the table in front of him and, with both hands, collected his finalized masterpiece in order to examine his work. It was a lady's hat with a wide brim, slightly turned down in the front to shield the eye from the harsh light of the sun. Puce, with a plum ribbon. A feather from the Jubjub bird accented it on one side, providing a chaotic burst of color.
Satisfaction coursed through his veins at the result of his craft. Flawless, as ever. Yet trepidation hovered in the back of his mind, suggesting his impeccable talent for creating wasn't enough. Everything he made came out exactly how he envisioned it. Where was the mystery? The challenge? The wonder?
In a place known as Wonderland, wonder surely existed for its own inhabitants, did it not?
The miniature bell above his front door jingled, distracting Hatter from his thoughts. He placed the hat upon a wooden peg roughly the size of a woman's head to set in his show room later. Then he turned toward the door. He clasped his hands over the well-worn, scuffed surface of his worktable and waited for his guest to approach, but nobody appeared.
With a frown, he fidgeted on the stool. Still, the doorway remained unoccupied. Was he being robbed? How very curious. He'd never been robbed before and couldn't recall the last time Wonderland had a theft. The crime rate had diminished since the Queen of Hearts met her fate.
"Ahem. Down here, Hatter."
He splayed his palms against the smooth wood, rose to his feet, and then peered over the edge of the table. A gray-and-black striped cat grinned up at him, swishing his fluffed tail across the smooth floor Marchy had swept up for him the day before.
"Oh, you again." Hatter pursed his lips in distaste. Devrel, the last of the Cheshire cats, a race of Boojums, visited only when he sought something, which happened often. "When did you start using the door?"
"I was in here earlier and you ignored me, even when I spoke to you, so I tried a different approach." He vanished, and Hatter reclaimed his place on the stool as the cat reappeared atop his table from thin air. Since the cat sat nearly two feet in height, the feline's blue gaze met his evenly. "I need your help." Devrel lifted a paw and licked between his claws.
As he'd suspected. "No."
"Pardon?" Devrel's ever-present smile faltered. "And here I thought we were friends."
"I said no." Hatter reached to the side and picked up the teacup and saucer he'd left there. Holding the saucer in one hand, he brought the cup to his lips and... He sighed, glancing into the empty cup. Once again, he'd forgotten to pour tea in it. Sixth time that week.
"Hatter, it's not for me. It's for Gareth."
Of course it was. Gareth, slayer of the dreaded Jabberwock, was Devrel's companion. Well, not his companion companion, but they were known for traversing through Wonderland together. Much like Marchy and Hatter were considered a duo themselves. Regardless, a mere mention of the man's name conjured resentment he couldn't move past even if Gareth couldn't be held completely responsible.
"The pair of you still owe me five buttons, two thimbles, and a patch."
Devrel gave his tail a jerky twitch. "You'll get your bloody buttons. Does it look like I have pockets?"
"I made you a waistcoat as an un-birthday present, yet you refuse to wear it. Your excuse holds no weight—I sewed pockets into it."
Devrel patted the back of his hand with a soft paw. "And it is a lovely waistcoat, but I only wear it for special occasions. Wouldn't want it ruined, would we?"
"No, I suppose not." Regardless, Hatter had put a lot of care into that waistcoat. It wouldn't kill the little beast to wear it once and a while. "Why does Gareth require my assistance? Isn't he more than capable of achieving anything he sets his mind to?"
"Not when both queens deny his every request." He growled and twitched his tail several times in quick movements. "Do you recall the woman you made a dress for about six weeks ago at his request?"
How could he forget the wench who refused to cooperate with his style of measurements? Naturally, she'd been attached to Gareth's hip from the moment he flashed a smile her way. Hatter had attended the Red Queen's ball to ensure she hadn't made a mockery of his craft. Luckily, the gown had fit across her spine properly after all. Hmmph. Some people had no respect for the art of proper wardrobing. She deserved Gareth for all the care she put into details.
You're being unfair again... Blasted conscience. "You're referring to the findling girl."
"Yes, yes. That one."
"What about her?" Hatter lifted the cup a second time, belatedly remembered it still lacked contents, and then set it down in a huff.
"Gareth is in bad shape. Ever since Wonderland rejected Cadence, he—"
"Cadence?"
"Her name."
"If you say so." Wasn't a very good name. Though few ever were.
"Ever since Wonderland rejected Cadence," Devrel repeated, glaring from the interruption while maintaining his characteristic grin. "He barely eats. He doesn't want to do anything. He's heartsick, and it has to end before I claw his eyes out from boredom. The Red Queen took pity on him and gave him a reprieve on her marriage demands, but she grows restless. She will not let him remain unwed for long."
&nbs
p; Hatter traced the rim of the cup with his finger and muttered, "It's always tragic when a man with such promise falls prey to the heart." The words were spoken bitterly, yet Devrel either didn't notice the undertones or chose not to comment. He didn't expect much different.
The cat cast his gaze toward the ceiling and shook his head. "Hatter, Hatter. Dear, sweet, oblivious Hatter. We have to bring Cadence back. You know how this land enhances emotions. Remember when Alice cried salt tears?"
Hatter bared his teeth. She was enchanted to a larger height and that doorknob lacked manners. It had nothing to do with mistaking lust for love. "Wonderland rejected the findling. Why make it worse by going through such lengths for naught?"
Devrel paced the length of the worktable. Hatter moved his eyes back and forth as the cat's tail bashed into the feather on his recently completed hat. Again. Again. Yet another time. He snatched the hat and carried it over to a different peg far out of Devrel's tail trajectory.
"She wasn't prepared." Devrel said, seemingly unbothered by Hatter's actions. "She had family back home, and it weighed too heavily upon her. I watched her and Gareth together on the way to the Red Kingdom. There was something there, forming, but not quite in fruition. If we brought her back, she'd have a chance to prove she belonged here, with Gareth. He's had time to realize what he wants, and all he needs is one last chance."
Well, if Gareth wants one more chance, than by all means... "Romanticism is a waste of time. A myth. Why pursue it?"
"I didn't say you had to believe in it."
Love didn't impress him. If he couldn't hold it in his hands, mend it, shape it, design it, then...it didn't exist. Nothing he couldn't create for himself had substance, nor had he the time for it. Hatter studied Devrel and asked, "Why do you think Wonderland would allow a second chance?"
"Alice did it."
The cat seemed determined to push her name into the conversation. Alice. The girl who'd fallen down the rabbit hole and shook up their realm. She'd somehow managed to enter twice when she stumbled across one of the looking glass entrances. Hatter had been young then, a boy of four and ten the first time, merely two years older than she. He'd been intrigued by her, but...she'd left.
Twice.
He pushed his emotions back behind the walls he'd constructed to contain that particular subject and bit out, "Alice found her way on her own and still couldn't stay. You brought the findling here."
"I can't bring her the same way twice. I've tried. She doesn't even see me when I cross realms now, no matter what I do or try to say to her. Alice had nothing here to bind her, but Cadence does. If she returns for Gareth, mayhap she will stay."
Hatter contemplated this as he collected his teacup and strode from the room. Nothing to bind her here, had she? Bah! Alice had friends here. She could have had all she dreamed of and more. On her second venture, he had been one and twenty and she nine and ten. He'd asked her to stay with him, had kissed her and she had reciprocated with interest, but it hadn't been in the cards.
Wonderland chose carefully when it allowed someone to stay. Sometimes it made sense, other times it seemed completely mad. Alice hadn't wanted it enough. Which meant, no matter how much affection Cadence had for Gareth, it hadn't been strong enough either. Love was merely an over-romanticized notion, not some powerful force creating happy endings wherever it dared to venture. Once he had believed in such a thing. No longer.
Devrel followed as Hatter wove through the twisting turns of his home and out the back door. Under a pavilion, four tables of varied sizes and shapes with differing patterns of table cloths draping them were pushed together and scattered with teapots and snacks of all sorts. A man sat at the place setting next to Hatter's chair at the very end, stirring a cup of tea with lazy strokes of a long-handled spoon. Atop his head, two brown rabbit ears poked through his hat, only a few shades darker than his skin, but lighter still than his hair. Despite the ears, the rest of his body was like any other man. Harold March came from a family of halflings. All of them bore an animal characteristic, but none shared the same one.
"Marchy." Hatter nodded as he picked up a steaming pot of tea and poured himself a cup. Replacing the pot, he lifted the porcelain to his lips, paused, turned to Devrel, and then offered the cup to him instead. Marchy said nothing, but stroked the neck of the sleeping dormouse beside his cup with his fingertip.
"No thanks." Devrel hopped into an armchair across from Marchy and sighed contentedly as he sank into the contours of the cushion. "I need you to speak to the rabbit."
Marchy sat bolt right in his chair. "Who're you calling rabbit, beast?"
Devrel hissed, startling the dormouse awake, who took one wide-eyed glance at Devrel and scurried into Marchy's jacket pocket. Marchy patted the pocket to comfort him.
"Not you, the White Rabbit."
As Marchy guffawed at the notion, Hatter furrowed his brow. "No one simply talks to the White Rabbit. He retired after the tyranny of the Queen of Hearts and only shows up to social events when he pleases." The Red Queen had defeated and executed the former monarch for the many crimes she'd committed, one of which had been exterminating Devrel's entire family because the Boojum who'd befriended Alice had made a mockery of her. The White Rabbit had distanced himself from everyone since, and the whispers surrounding his disappearance claimed he was ashamed of being too afraid of losing his head to leave the queen's service. Instead, he lived in solitude to atone for his inaction.
"Yes, but he has always liked you. Me, not so much. If I ask, he won't listen. If you do, he might."
Liked was a strong word. Rabbit merely tolerated anyone. "You want him to create a portal to the findling's land. Anything can happen. Anyone can enter before the portal closes. What if you catch the wrong person? What's next, are you going to tamper with time as well?" Hatter could list the various ways it could go terribly wrong, but he wouldn't.
"Not too much time should have passed yet, so no need to tamper with that. Besides, time tampering is illegal. As for random findlings toppling in—that is a risk I'm willing to take." Devrel stared into his cup as he stirred the amber liquid with an extended claw. His grin seemed strained.
Marchy sipped calmly at his tea, glancing between the two of them, before adding, "Sounds like an awful lot of trouble to bring a girl through. I say let the Red Queen choose his bride and be done with it. Brides aren't important so long as they perform their duties."
"Which explains why no female dares to be caught alone with you, Harold." Devrel said, folding his ears back.
"It's more fun to risk being caught and getting away with it." Marchy chuckled.
Hatter rolled his eyes. His friend was ever the cad, but a good man. Unfortunately, Devrel had a point. In Wonderland, being caught intimately with a woman ended in marriage. Marchy seemed to enjoy risking his neck, so to speak. Hatter was too busy for such pastimes. He'd meddled with females before, but ultimately it never suited him. He no longer allowed his mind to dwell on it.
Rapid twitching of Devrel's tail drowned out the rest of the noise, a metronome in time with the steady beat of Hatter's own heart. If Wonderland did not want Cadence, she would only give Gareth false hope upon her arrival. It would be foolish to consider anything impossible though. Devrel, an impossible cat with an impossible grin, believed Cadence deserved a second chance, as ill-fated as it may be. Damn his soft heart, but he would help. Even without the buttons, thimbles, and patch, which he would collect afterward.
ALSO BY REBEKAH LEWIS
-The Cursed Satyroi Series-
Wicked Satyr Nights
Midnight at the Satyr Inn
Under the Satyr Moon
Mercury Rising
Satyr from the Shadows
The Satyr Prince
Pride Before the Fall
-Wonderland-
The Vanishing
The Unraveling
-Monsters in the Dark-
The Monster Under the Bed
The Monster in the Closet
/> The Monster in the Cellar
The Monster in the Attic
-Other Books-
Through the Maelstrom
Rescued by a Sea Nymph
Hela Takes a Holiday
ABOUT REBEKAH LEWIS
Rebekah Lewis has always been captivated by fictional worlds. An avid reader and lover of cinema, it was only a matter of time before she started writing her own stories and immersing herself in her imagination. Rebekah's most popular series, The Cursed Satyroi, is paranormal romance based on Greek mythology. She also writes Fantasy and Time Travel. When satyrs, white rabbits, and stubborn heroes aren't keeping her busy, she may be found putting her creativity to use as an award-winning cover artist. Rebekah holds a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature and lives in Savannah, GA with her cat, Bagheera.
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www.Rebekah-Lewis.com
SCANDALOUS LIAISON
AMANDA MARIEL
PROLOGUE
ENGLAND, 1822
LADY GRACE BRIGHTON, daughter of the Viscount and Viscountess of Forton, entered the ballroom with a heavy heart. Tonight would undoubtedly be one of the hardest nights of her life. At seventeen she should be enjoying the season, not dreading what was to come. Nonetheless, her course had been set.
With dread lacing through her and twisting her stomach into knots, Grace made her way to the veranda. Mr. Lewis Duffield would be awaiting her under the branches of their tree, the very one he had carved their initials into a fortnight ago. The scenario would have set her belly all aflutter a couple of nights ago, but now everything had changed. Where the butterflies should have been, Grace felt an unpleasant churning instead.
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