Spotlight: Give Me More by A.C. Arthur

(The Fabulous Golds, #4)

Publication date: May 1st 2021

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

Fashion exec RJ Gold hasn’t seen Grace Hopkins since she turned down his marriage proposal and walked out of his life. While he’s in Saint Lucia for his sister’s wedding, a run-in with his journalist ex is unexpected…as is the story she’s writing on the decades-long feud between his family’s fashion empire and a rival Manhattan house. Grace’s body is as delicious as RJ remembers…but he remembers too much to trust her again.

Grace knew seeing RJ would be awkward. It’s also intense…and red-hot! But she can’t afford distractions from her big break. This story will launch her journalism career to new heights, a dream she chose over RJ years ago. Still, she would rather work with him than against him… Except working together in paradise makes it impossible to ignore the tropical temptation at play!

As their explosive chemistry and rekindling feelings reach a fever pitch, RJ and Grace must decide—can second chances last, or is their desire on a deadline?

Excerpt

He tried blinking repeatedly, hoping that when he focused his gaze again, he’d be mistaken, but that hadn’t worked. Now the air froze in his lungs, causing his chest to constrict, and one strangled word tumbled from his lips. “Grace?”

She took a step back, her mouth opening slightly, then closing without a word. That’s how they stood for the next…he didn’t even know how many seconds had passed, and he didn’t dare speak again. As if she’d figured that out, she cleared her throat and finally spoke. “Hello, RJ.”

No, this couldn’t be. Was he sleepwalking? Hadn’t he just thought about his past relationship? Yes, and he’d pushed that memory way back to the place he’d buried it for the last ten years. Only now, it was right here, just a couple feet away from him.

Grace Hopkins. His Grace.

The first and only woman he’d ever loved, the woman he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Dragging a hand down his face, RJ shook his head as if that were going to clear all this away. She was still standing there wearing very short shorts that showed off the rich mocha complexion of her long, gorgeous legs. A white T-shirt fit perfectly against the curve of her breasts and a gold heart pendant dangling from a choker necklace brushed over the hollow of her throat.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said when it seemed she might be the only one capable of speaking at this time.

Memories tangled and fought inside his mind. Grace had been his everything. She was the first and only woman to claim his heart. A heart she’d held so tightly in the palm of her hand that she’d been able to crush it with one, simple word—no. Muted pain rested in the center of his chest.

He hadn’t seen her since that awful night years ago, but now she was here. It was Grace’s voice he heard, her smile he saw as her lips tilted slowly. She eased an arm from behind her back to wave her hand at him as if they were long-lost friends. He didn’t know what to say or do, which was uncharacteristically strange for him. Trying to get his mind right and act like he had some semblance of brain function, he gripped his phone tightly in one hand and nodded.

“What are you doing wandering around out here in the dark?” It wasn’t the most pressing question at the moment, but he was still working up the nerve to ask the other one.

She shrugged, shifting her weight from one foot to the next, and dropped her arms to her side. “Going for a walk, which actually seems like the same thing you were doing.” He should’ve expected the quick and snappy response. It was her signature and matched her ambitious and flirtatious personality perfectly. She loved to talk. Where some women might like cuddling after sex, Grace had been a talker. Those were the nights he’d learned so much about her. Unfortunately, the one time he’d needed her to be chatty, she’d clammed up and walked away from him for what he thought was going to be forever.

He had to ask her. It made the most sense that this next question come, he just didn’t know how he was going to feel about her answer. “It’s been a long time.” He dodged the bullet again.

“Yeah. It has.”

“You look…um…you look—” He noticed something else that made this entire scenario stranger. “Is that a vibrator?”

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About the Author

For all the latest news on A.C. Arthur books, giveaways, appearances and discussions Like A.C. Arthur's Book Lounge on Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/pages/AC-Arthurs-Book-Lounge or follow her on Twitter @AcArthur

A.C. Arthur was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland where she currently resides with her husband and three children. An active imagination and a love for reading encouraged her to begin writing in high school and she hasn't stopped since.

Working in the legal field she's seen lots of horrific things and longs for the safe haven reading a romance novel brings. Her debut novel Object of His Desire was written when a picture of an Italian villa sparked the idea of an African-American/Italian hero. Determined to bring a new edge to romance, she continues to develop intriguing plots, sensual love scenes, racy characters and fresh dialogue--thus keeping the readers on their toes!

A.C. also writes small town contemporary romance as Lacey Baker. Visit her Amazon Author Page for details about her upcoming Hallmark Channel novelization, A Gingerbread Romance. amazon.com/author/bakerlacey

In the young adult arena, A.C. also writes under the name Artist Arthur. Visit her Amazon Author Page for details about available YA books. amazon.com/author/artistarthurbooks

Connect:

https://acarthur.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ac.arthur.1

https://twitter.com/ACArthur

https://www.pinterest.ca/acarthur22/_saved/

https://www.instagram.com/acarthurbooks/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/100764.A_C_Arthur

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Spotlight: Fed Up!: Success, Excess and Crisis Through the Eyes of a Hedge Fund Macro Trader by Colin Lancaster

In October 2019, the world was still riding a ten-year bull market – having no idea what was just around the corner. And while everyone experienced the impact of the global pandemic, not many know what it was like in the eye of the financial storm that Covid-19 precipitated. In his new novel, FED UP! Success, Excess and Crisis Through the Eyes of a Hedge Fund Macro Trader (Harriman House; May 2021), Colin Lancaster offers an inside look at that storm – spinning a fascinating tale of immense wealth, tough choices, and compromised values.

The story Lancaster tells – which is based on real people and real events from his own career – is of a macro trader. They call him Boss. He lives and breathes the markets, to the detriment of his relationships with family and friends. The “family” Boss spends his time with is his team at the trading desk – Elias, their smooth-talking, party-loving trader; Jerry, their economic model-builder trying to gain a foothold in a career that demands complete devotion; Rabbi, their brilliant but pessimistic analyst, always looking for the down side; and Lifecoach, the only woman on the team, part lawyer, part CFA, and part fixer who plays a mean game of beer pong.

Boss narrates a nine-month period, from October 2019 through June 2020, providing readers a crash course in macro trading – “investing in assets on the basis of changes in the fundamental landscape: the ups and downs in growth and inflation and interest rates” – and a front row seat on trading activity. At the same time, Boss struggles to balance his personal principles with the compromised values of the world around him – and to hang on to his fortune as the world slips into misfortune. “At the end of the day, we macro traders have unique jobs. We are not paid to do anything productive for society. We are paid to turn a pile of money into a bigger pile of money,” he laments.

As the pandemic worsens, and the central banks and governments try to forestall economic collapse, Boss and his team scramble to keep their heads above water. Meanwhile, Boss’s wife increasingly questions his commitment to their family and Boss begins to have serious doubts about one of the members of his team – all with a backdrop of CNBC’s talking heads and the often irrational tweets from “The Big D,” a.k.a. Donald Trump.

Following Boss and his team from London to Las Vegas and from New York to New Orleans, FED UP! is a wild ride that provides unique insights into high-stakes trading while also raising important questions about the very basis of our economy.

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About the Author

COLIN LANCASTER, the author of FED UP!, is a 25-year Wall Street professional who has managed investment operations in London, New York, Hong Kong, Singapore, Chicago, and San Francisco. He has run two of the highest profile global macro businesses for top-performing hedge funds working directly with Ken Griffin at Citadel and Dmitry Balyasny at Balyasny Asset Management. For many years, Lancaster’s monthly newsletter —Views from the Desk — was a must-read among Wall Street insiders and the largest allocators in the world. Lancaster has often been quoted in The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, and the Financial Times. A graduate of Princeton University and Marquette University Law School, he and his wife divide their time between London and Miami.

Spotlight: The Road to Rose Bend by Naima Simone

If it was only about her, she might never have come back to Rose Bend.

But it’s not only about her anymore.

Sydney Collins left the small Berkshires town of Rose Bend eight years ago, grieving her sister’s death—and heartbroken over her parents’ rejection. But now the rebel is back—newly divorced and pregnant—ready to face her fears and make a home for her child in the caring community she once knew. The last thing she needs is trouble. But trouble just set her body on fire with one hot, hot smile.

Widower and Rose Bend mayor Coltrane Dennison hasn’t smiled in ages. Until a chance run-in with Sydney Collins, who’s all grown-up and making him want what he knows he can’t have. Grief is his only connection to the wife and son he lost, and he won’t give it up. Not for Sydney, not for her child, not for his heart. But when Sydney’s ex threatens to upend everything she’s rebuilt in Rose Bend, Cole and Sydney may find that a little trouble will take them where they never expected to go.

Excerpt

A flutter. Like the softest brush of a butterfly’s wing against the wall of her belly. Sydney had felt it. Unlike the heat in Cole’s gaze, she hadn’t imagined it…right?

She stiffened, going still. Not even daring to breathe.

“Sydney?” Cole leaned forward, the concern coating his voice etched into the frown darkening his expression. “Baby girl, are you okay?” He settled a hand just above her knee, studying her. “What’s wrong? Is it the—”

She shook her head, not even concentrating on his murmured “baby girl” or how damn sexy that was. No, every bit of her focused on her body, on feeling that sweet sensation again. But, after several heartbeats, nothing. Disappointment rippled through her. Dr. Prioleau had assured her everything was okay, that this milestone in her pregnancy could come later. Still…

She stifled a sigh. “I’m good. I just thought—oh shit!” She pressed both of her palms to the slight swell of her stomach, eyes stretched so wide the skin pinched at the corners. Joy, indescribable joy, surged within her, pressing against her chest, her throat. And love. Jesus, how could she possibly love so much that her body almost seemed incapable of containing it? “I knew it! The baby. The baby just moved. Oh my God. Feel it!”

Without thinking, she grasped Cole’s wrist and lifted his hand from her leg and planted it over her belly. Only when his long fingers splayed wide over her did the impact of her impetuous actions slam into her.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, Cole. I’m so sorry,” she breathed, nearly shoving his hand away in her haste to undo the harm she might’ve unintentionally caused in her excitement. “I wasn’t thinking.”

His body had gone as still as the statue of W.E.B. DuBois outside of city hall. She couldn’t detect the whisper of a breath or the rise and fall of his chest. But his eyes. Jesus, his eyes. They flared wide, as if deep within the cage his body had become, he’d plummeted into a full-blown panic attack. And the amber depths swirled with so much pain, so much grief, that she couldn’t contain her gasp.

It could’ve been that soft sound that snapped him from his paralysis.

Cole slowly tipped his head down and inspected the hand she’d tossed aside as if it were a separate entity from his body. His fingers curled into a tight fist against the cushion. Then, slowly, he stretched them out.

And raised his arm until his palm hovered over her stomach.

“I’m…” He paused, swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his strong throat. “Can I?” he whispered.

The request sounded as if it’d passed through ten pounds of chewed-up gravel before it emerged, rough, jagged and worn. As if he asked, not because he truly wanted to touch her—touch the place where her unborn child lay—but more so to prove a point. Prove that he could.

And because of the almost grim determination in the clench of his jaw and in his pain-drenched golden eyes, she took his trembling hand and guided it to her belly.

Once more, his big hand spanned the length of her.

And once more, as if greeting him, or maybe even congratulating him for his bravery, her baby moved.

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About the Author

Published since 2009, USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone loves writing sizzling romances with heart, a touch of humor and snark. Her books have been featured in The Washington Post and Entertainment Weekly, and described as balancing “crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters caught in emotional turmoil.”

She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.

CONNECT WITH NAIMA: AUTHOR SITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM | GOODREADS | BOOKBUB | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

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Spotlight: Crazy Royal Love Series by Melanie Summers

(Crazy Royal Love, #1)

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis book 1:

A wildly funny, ridiculously romantic spinoff from best-selling author Melanie Summers…

Princess Arabella of Avonia has spent her first twenty-nine years in an endless loop of high teas, state dinners, and the same five conversations. Every minute of her day is planned by someone else. From what to wear to what to eat, the royal handlers keep her on a tight leash. To make matters worse, they’ve extended their duties to include finding her a suitable husband before she turns thirty. Desperate for an out, she sneakily signs up to co-host a new nature docu-series, starring Will Banks, the man dubbed McHotty of the Wilderness.

Will has ladies all over the globe lining up to meet him until a hot, new adventure show comes on the scene, and his ratings take a nose-dive. Producers decide an emergency change in format is in order. Enter Princess Arabella. The pampered and proper royal is the perfect foil to Will’s rugged outdoorsman.

It’s hate at first sight, but their on-screen loathing makes for great television. Surprisingly, when the cameras stop rolling, these two finally see each other’s good sides. Can these opposites find their forever in each other’s arms, or will their differences be their undoing?

Excerpt

Royally Crushed

WILL BANKS

I've been a very good groomsman. I've smiled for all the photos. I laughed through the many toasts and I've done a bang-up job of pretending life couldn't be better for me all day, even though there is a boulder of worry lodged in my chest. And now, it’s time for me to get piss-stinking drunk.

The trick with over-imbibing at a wedding is to make it look like you're carrying drinks for other people. In this case, four flutes of champagne from the champagne fountain. Two could still possibly look like I'm going to drink them myself, but four seems far too ridiculous for anyone to suspect me of what I'm actually doing, which is filling them, then carrying them through the hotel ballroom with a purposeful look on my face, stopping periodically to down one and leave the glass.

I'm just filling up the last flute when I hear a woman's voice behind me. “Rough day?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I see a lovely blonde in a blue gown. Her hair is up in some sort of complicated fancy do, and she has the most mesmerizing light blue eyes I think I've ever seen.

My jaw goes slack for an instant before I pull myself together. “These aren't all for me.”

Taking one from my hand, she says, “Sure they're not. I saw you earlier crossing the room with your first four glasses. Excellent trick. No one would ever imagine someone making such a pig of himself.”

“No offense, though, right?” I say, tipping back my glass and downing it. I set the glass down and hold my right hand out. “Will Banks.”

She shakes my hand even though she seems like the type of woman who's more used to men kissing her knuckles lightly. “Yes, I know who you are.”

I blush a little and get that slightly squishy feeling that comes along with being sort of famous. “Right, sorry, it's hard for me to wrap my head around people knowing who I am everywhere I go.”

“Occupational hazard, I guess,” she says with a grin.

“And what are the hazards of your occupation?” I ask. Oooh, that was pretty smooth, if I do say so myself.

She stares at me for a second, then says, “It's a bit difficult to put a finger on it, but I suppose you could say I'm in public relations.”

“I'll try not to hate you for it,” I say with a wink.

“I'm assuming there's some sort of delicious backstory to that comment. Perhaps something that requires eight glasses of champagne to forget.”

“Something like that.” I watch, thoroughly engrossed as she takes a dainty sip. “Not that I'd ever complain, because believe me, I know how lucky I am to be doing the work I do, but there are aspects of it I could do without.”

She nods, a look of understanding crossing her face that makes me want to continue the conversation. I stare at her for a moment and can’t help but feel like she’s somehow familiar. “Have we met before?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’d remember me,” she says with a little smile.

“Ha! Good one,” I say, having a swig of my drink. “Did you enjoy the wedding?”

“It was quite lovely.”

“Whose side are you on? The bride or the groom?”

“The groom,” she says. “He's a friend of my older brother.”

“Your brother must be quite the person. Pierce is very selective with who he allows in his inner circle.”

“Yes, you could say that.” She glances around, then looks back at me. “What about you? Are you a fan of weddings in general?”

“For other people. You?”

“Agreed. Marriage is definitely not for me.”

“So, it's a life of public relations for you, is it?”

“It's what I was born to do.”

“Well, I hope whoever you work for, they’re good to you—not all stuffy like this lot. All the wannabe royals thinking they're so very important when the truth is nobody outside this ballroom knows who they are, and if they did, they wouldn't care.”

“Or worse, the actual royals,” she says with a knowing look.

“God, yes. What a useless existence that would be. I mean, they're not even in charge of anything real anymore. It's just a whole life of pomp and ceremony.”

“Pathetic, right?” she answers, rolling her eyes.

“I actually heard someone earlier saying they feel sorry for them.”

“Absurd.”

“Yeah, honestly. They went on and on about how hard it would be to live in the spotlight your entire life.” I take a sip of my drink. “As someone with a bit of fame, I can tell you, there’s very little to complain about.”

“Well, of course there wouldn’t be anything to whine about. Not with all the perks and privileges.”

“Exactly. If they want to do something hard, they should get dropped off in Siberia in the dead of winter and try to survive for a week without their chefs and maids and heated toilet seats.”

“Ha!” she says. God, I like her. She gets me. I wonder if she’d be up for a shag?

“They’d be calling for a helicopter in under an hour, I can guarantee it.”

“Probably even less,” she agrees, giving me a conspiratorial look.

I glance down at her full lips, then lower my voice. “Say, you wouldn't want to get out of here, would you? Somewhere not quite so stuffy.”

She leans in close enough that I can smell her perfume. I have no idea what it is, but it smells like money. She must do really well for herself in the public relations biz. “Somewhere that I could let my hair down and we could get to know each other better.”

This is actually going to happen, isn’t it? I nod. “Exactly.”

She opens her mouth, but before she can answer, an older man in a grey suit taps her on the shoulder. “Princess Arabella, delightful to see you again. My wife and I would love to talk to you about a foundation we’re starting for homeless birds.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shock vibrates through me as my words about her family echo through my brain. Pomp and ceremony. Not in charge of anything real anymore. I am so not getting lucky tonight. I give her a sheepish look, wishing I could think of a clever way to make it all better, but I’ve got nothing. Just embarrassment and regret. “So … you’re … I did not … I am so …”

“I am, I know you didn’t, and I’m sure you are,” Princess Arabella says with an amused smile. “Lovely to meet you, Mr. Banks.” She holds up her glass to me. “But I’m afraid it’s time to get back to my useless existence.”

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About the Author

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally - then she'll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for 'K' Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn't require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she's not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken 'from above'. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something--more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Connect:

https://mjsummersbooks.wordpress.com/

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https://www.instagram.com/mj_summers_author/

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https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17105602.Melanie_Summers

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Spotlight: Highland Warrior by Heather McCollum

Publication Date: April 27, 2021

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Love

Genres: Adult, Entangled: Amara, Historical, Highlander, Romance

Joshua Sinclair was once the fiercest and most notorious warrior of the mighty Sinclair clan of Northern Scotland. But now there’s nothing and no one that can make him take up arms again. Except a beautiful woman, it seems.

When Kára Flett, daughter of a fallen Norse chief, finds herself unexpectedly sheltering the strongest, most brutal warrior in the land, she throws together a risky and outrageous plan to bring him to her side. Threats of violence bounce right off him. Offers of gold seem to entice him even less. Desperate enough to use the pleas of the village children to sway him, she’s shocked when he’s completely unmoved. There’s only one tactic left for her: seduction.

Her hasty proposition falls completely by the wayside, though, as she and the Highlander come together in a carnal inferno. But bringing him into her life also brings his enemies to her clan’s doorstep—the very clan Kára is trying to protect. And as their feelings deepen, Joshua will have to decide between duty and love once and for all.

Excerpt

Joshua whipped around, his fingers going to his mouth where he blew two short whistles. A neigh, from behind one of the buildings, tore through the growing twilight. Yells followed. Bandits. Fools! Fuil was a warhorse and listened to no one but him. The only thing that would have made him move was a treat dangled before him. Damn horse thieves!

Maybe Robert’s rant about the native people eating horseflesh was true. Had he starved his people enough to turn them into barbarians?

Joshua ran around the side of the thatched cottage, skidding to a halt before three men trying to control his raging steed. Their eyes were wide as they raised hands to the snorting beast, the whites of Fuil’s eyes showing and his ears laid back. The horse could kill them on his own, but the thieves might injure his friend. Fury roared in Joshua’s ears, and energy shot through his blood at the thought that they would steal him. And eat him!

Barely noting that the woman from the tavern stood nearby, he drew his sword from the scabbard strapped to his back, stalking forward. Sucking in large swaths of air through his nostrils, he prepared to win this contest by intimidation alone.

One of the fiends turned to see him advancing, his panicked eyes growing even wider. He had no sword and raised his fists before him, the snorting horse behind him. Damn. The thief was young, probably only recently growing into his pitiful beard.

The second man was dressed in ragged clothing, insufficient against the cold. He held a dagger and a wild glare.

The third bastard surged toward Joshua, sword held by his two hands, striking downward. Joshua met the attack, the two blades clanging together. Desperate or foolish? Joshua wasn’t sure, but the man seemed immune to intimidation. Joshua easily parried the man’s lunge, spinning to bring his elbow down at the base of the man’s skull, knocking him flat, his face in the dirt.

Pivoting to the man holding his puny dagger, he yelled, “I will jam your own blade into your foolish skull.”

The man’s lips curled back as he spit. “There are worse things.” It was the look of desperation that made Joshua drop his sword to the turf. Even a horse thief could lose hope. That did not mean he deserved to be skewered.

In two strides, Joshua knocked the dagger from the man’s hand and threw a punch into his nose, dropping him to the ground without any effort.

“Foking monster!” the barely-a-man yelled. He charged, his fists still raised. Joshua held up his own fists, but instead of swinging at the lad, he swiped his leg across as he sidestepped, tripping the thief, who fell hard. Three steps back, Joshua swooped up his sword and spun back to Fuil.

“Stop!” came a voice from the road. Fire ripped across the outside of Joshua’s upper arm. He looked down to see a slice in his tunic where a dagger had cut through as it grazed him, the weapon skidding across the pebbled ground beyond. He’d been merciful with the thieves and yet they sought to kill him.

Rage added even more strength to his sword arm. Lifting it high, he spun and charged toward the foe who had drawn his blood.

“No!” screamed the woman from the shadows, but Joshua didn’t slow.

A part of him realized she ran toward them, but he focused on his enemy. The thrower’s size broke through Joshua’s fury. Round eyes. Thin frame. Pale, shocked face. It was a boy, a young boy. Just like…

At the last second, Joshua diverted the thrust of his sword, swinging it down along the lad’s side, and skidded to a halt. Breathing hard, he loomed over the boy. The promise of death surfaced on his face, one that would hopefully stick in the lad’s nightmares so he wouldn’t fight someone three times his size again.

“Ye bloodied me.”

“Stop!” yelled the woman, grabbing Joshua’s injured arm. Before the frightened lad could respond, the young thief, who Joshua had tripped, yanked the boy around, yelling at him in their local dialect. The two of them ran off into the growing darkness, their arms pumping.

The woman dropped her hold on him and clenched her hands together. Her chest rose and fell. The other two men remained unconscious where they had fallen, and Fuil stepped over their prone bodies as he came up to Joshua. The horse nosed him as if asking where his treat had ended up.

“Fuil,” he mumbled, letting the chill in the wind calm his anger. “Your blasted stomach gets us into such bloody trouble.”

Joshua watched the worry mix with anger on the woman’s fine features, and she finally turned away from the lads who faded into the shadows. She murmured something in her ancient language and grabbed his arm to inspect the wound.

“Do ye know them?” he asked.

“This needs to be cleaned, but no stitches are warranted.” She squatted to catch together a small pile of fresh snow, standing to wipe the blood from the cut.

He caught her chin to bring her gaze up to his, her eyes growing round for a split second before narrowing. Questions pressed within him. Who are you? Were you helping them? Why were you standing back watching? But answers to those questions might lead her to walk away from him, for which he was definitely not ready.

He leaned in, tethering her gaze completely. “Were they going to eat my horse?”

Her lips rose into a grin, and she jerked back, breaking free of his hold. “No, Highlander. Despite Lord Robert’s lies, we do not eat horseflesh. Although, if the choice between eating you or eating your horse arose…” She squeezed his arm as if testing the meat on his bones. “No, even then your horse would be safe.” She shook her head. “I would choose to eat you.”

His frown relaxed, and for a moment they stared at each other. Her mouth softened with the faintest hint of humor. The wind calmed, the snow falling straight down to catch in her pale hair. “It is good to know my faithful steed is secure.”

“Do you not worry for yourself?” Her gaze traveled down his form. “Because ye look…delicious.”

Lightning coursed through his body at her words, making his jack awaken below the layers of his woolen plaid. Although, he was fairly certain it had been paying attention since he’d seen her standing in the tavern, all curves and long legs.

“I can take care of myself,” he said. Her brow rose, and Joshua watched as the tip of her tongue came out to touch the edge of her bottom lip. Heat began to roll through him. Was he reading her signals correctly? A woman like this did not seem like the type to tease. She seemed more like someone who knew what she wanted and almost always got it. And if she wanted him right now, he, bloody hell, wouldn’t refuse her.

“Did ye find a place for my horse and me to stay for the night?” he asked, keeping his gaze locked to hers. Snowflakes swirled about, hitting his cheeks.

The intensity in the woman’s almond-shaped eyes made the rest of the world disappear, even the bite in the sea breeze. “Aye,” she said, sliding a finger up to tuck the wisps of her hair behind her ear. “You can stay with me. That is, if you can find me.”

His heart beat faster at her words, and his grin grew. “Ye are right here, so I have already won.”

Without warning, she spun, jogging inland away from the village. Was the woman insane? Where would she go? There were no trees in which to hide, and the landscape of rolling hills was free of most dwellings. “I will find ye easily. I have a horse, lass,” he called, noticing the twilight was deepening quickly.

She turned to jog backward. “And I have cunning, Highlander,” she called and raced off. He watched her run, the sway of her braid like an entrancing pendulum. She glanced several times over her shoulder as if making sure he would follow, but her form was quickly fading into the darkening landscape.

He strode to Fuil to mount but yelled over his shoulder, “I can easily run ye down and catch ye.”

Her laughter floated back to him on the twilight wind.

Kára pumped her arms as she ran, her boots easily finding purchase on the familiar moor. He will follow.

A man like the infamous Joshua Sinclair, Horseman of War, would not turn away from a challenge. When he’d walked into the tavern, she had known instantly who he was. Very few were as large as the Highland warrior and no one as darkly handsome. The first things one noticed about Joshua Sinclair were his broad shoulders and towering height, which displayed his muscular frame so perfectly that he resembled the pictures her brother drew of the warrior Danes from long ago. He wore the belted wool wrappings of his homeland around his narrow hips and fur leg wraps above his boots. His hands were large and calloused from holding the massive sword strapped across his back.

When he’d stared into her eyes, his full mouth curving into a seductive smile over white teeth, heat had slid down through Kára, like honey warmed in the sun. Now that was a reaction to capture a woman’s notice, but her plan was still ridiculous. What the hell was she thinking, baiting him to chase after her? Her grandmother’s words rang in her ears. We need to find a warrior to lead us to victory against Robert Stuart. Joshua Sinclair was the largest, deadliest warrior on Orkney, and probably all of Scotland.

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About the Author

Heather McCollum is an award winning, historical paranormal and YA romance writer. She earned her B.A. in Biology, much to her English professor’s dismay. She is a member of Romance Writers of America and the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood of 2009 Golden Heart finalists. The ancient magic and lush beauty of Great Britain entrances Ms. McCollum’s heart and imagination every time she visits. The country’s history and landscape have been a backdrop for her writing ever since her first journey across the pond. When she is not creating vibrant characters & magical adventures on the page, she is roaring her own battle cry in the war against ovarian cancer. Ms. McCollum recently slayed the cancer beast and resides with her very own Highland hero, rescued golden retriever & 3 kids in the wilds of suburbia on the mid-Atlantic coast.

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Spotlight: The Most Eligible Viscount in London by Ella Quinn

GENRE:  Regency Romance

In bestselling author Ella Quinn’s intriguing new Regency trilogy, a dashing suitor must decide if love and marriage are mutually exclusive . . .

Viscount Gavin Turley is convinced that love matches cause nothing but trouble. Still, after months of courting, he’s fallen for Miss Georgie Featherton. He’s passionate about her, in fact. But words of love are not an indulgence he will allow himself. When he presents Georgie with his marriage proposal, he will lead with his head—not his heart. His qualifications as a husband are excellent, after all. What could go wrong?

No sooner does Gavin kneel on one knee than Georgie’s heart goes aflutter with joy. Finally, the proposal she longed for had arrived. Yet Gavin seemed to be listing his credentials for a business partnership, not a romantic union. Without a declaration of love, Georgie can only reject his offer—unless the ladies of the ton, and Georgie’s grandmamma, have anything to do with it. For sometimes it takes a wiser eye to see the love behind a guarded heart—and a clever scheme to bring it out of hiding . . .

Excerpt

He climbed the steps to Brooks’s and the door opened.

“Good day, my lord.” One of the footmen bowed.

“Good day, Johns. Have you seen Lord Exeter?”

“Aye, my lord. He’s in the reading room. Just got back from Paris from what I heard and wanted to find out what has been going on here during his absence.” The servant took Gavin’s hat and cane. “Told he me had an excellent time.”

Well he would, wouldn’t he? He’d been on his honeymoon. “Thank you.”

“Pleasure, my lord.”

Gavin walked through the hall and down to the reading room where he found Exeter with a stack of newspapers next to him. “Finally back, I see.”

“Turley!” The man stood, knocking over some of the newssheets. “Well met.” Exeter looked happier than Gavin had ever seen him. His friend grabbed his hand and shook it.

Eying the newssheets, Gavin said, “I see you are making sure you didn’t miss anything that happened when you were gone.”

“Dorie”—his friend’s face took on a happily distracted look at the mention of his wife—“and I ventured away from Paris where there was no news from England to be found. When it was time to depart, rather than returning to Paris we headed straight to Calais and back home.” Exeter grinned. “She had ordered all the newspapers to be delivered to the house and is no doubt going through them as we speak. But I thought I might discover additional information here.” He stared at Gavin for a moment, and his brows drew down. “Is everything all right?”

“I need a brandy.” Or the whole bottle.

“That bad.” Exeter put down the paper he’d been holding. “Let’s go to the dining room. It must be almost time for luncheon.” They went to the corner table their little group had claimed as their own last Season. “What has occurred? Your sister and her family are still well? Nothing has ensued since we saw them last month, has it?”

“There is no need for concern on that front. Elizabeth, Harrington, and their daughter thrive. I received a letter from her that she is expecting their next addition in the spring.” Gavin debated telling his friend what was troubling him and decided he needed advice as well as someone with whom to share a drink. He took a breath. “I offered for Miss Featherton, and she refused me.”

“Really?” Exeter’s eyes widened as if in shock, and his jaw dropped for a second before he recovered himself. “I mean that is unexpected.”

Why was he so astonished? Or perhaps the question should be what had Gavin missed? “I feel as if you know something I do not.”

The man glanced to the side and seemed to focus on something on the far wall. “Yes, er, well. You see. Dorie was certain.” Exeter frowned as if unsure how to continue. “And I too was under the impression Miss Featherton was expecting an offer from you and would be, er, happy to receive it.”

Blast it all. Gavin wanted to kick himself. If only he could have brought himself to lie. Yet that was not an ideal basis upon which to begin a marriage. “That might very well have been the case, but she requires something I am unable to offer.”

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About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Ella Quinn's studies and other jobs have always been on the serious side. Reading historical romances, especially Regencies, were her escape. Eventually her love of historical novels led her to start writing them.

She is married to her wonderful husband of over thirty years. They have a son and two beautiful granddaughters, and a Great Dane. After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make their dreams come true and are now living on a sailboat. After cruising the Caribbean and North America, she completed a transatlantic crossing from St. Martin to Southern Europe. She's currently living in Germany, happily writing while her husband is back at work, recovering from retirement.

Ella loves when readers connect with her.

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Website:  https://www.ellaquinnauthor.com/

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