Spotlight: Scandal's Redemption by Pamela Gibson

Genre: Historical Regency Romance 

Lady Jocelyn Stafford desperately needs a husband to repair her tarnished reputation. Her obvious choice is her neighbor James, a man who once fancied her. If only she hadn’t cruelly rejected his attentions when she found herself wooed by a scandalous rake with a better title.James Margrave, Earl of Seaton, must have an heir to keep his estate from falling into the hands of his cousin, which means he has to marry. Lady Jocelyn, who still beguiles him, would be perfect if only he could forget old slights. Instead, James asks Jocelyn to help him find a suitable wife, a task she agrees to perform, hoping to redeem herself in his eyes.When a series of attacks put James’s life in danger, an immediate marriage becomes critical. Jocelyn is willing and available. But can he trust a woman who once broke his heart and is it fair to wed her when she might become the next victim? 

Excerpt

“Do you still play the harp? As I recall, you were fond of the instrument.”

Her face lit up with true animation. “I do, and I brought it with me. Would you like to accompany me to the music room for a demonstration? You can tell me if I have improved.”

“I would be honored to give you my opinion.” He swallowed the last of his tea and followed Jocelyn into an adjoining chamber. Roberts did not move from her place in the corner.

Jocelyn seated herself behind the instrument, patting the chair beside her. He repositioned the chair slightly so he could watch her fingers pluck the strings and, at the same time, view the expression on her face as she played. When the dulcet tones of Mozart filled the room, Jocelyn closed her eyes and seemed to be letting the music carry her into another time and place where gentle sounds and subtle movements reached the soul.

She had improved, indeed. Beguiled by the melodious tones, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the subtle movements of her shoulders, the way she stroked the strings of the harp with knowing fingers, and the dreamy expression on her face, as if she were one with the music. Her breasts seem to spill over the top of her gown as she leaned forward to reach the farthest strings, and he was mesmerized by the candlelight, the music, and the subtle scent of the flowers on a table behind him.

When she finished, she stopped, opened her eyes, and stared into his as if willing him to move, to put his hands on her and bring her close. He complied, as if drawn by a song that was only in his head, one of yearning and need for human connection. He leaned in, took her face between his palms, and kissed her deeply, running his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened for him. It was a kiss he’d only dreamed about, her subtle perfume teasing his nose as he left her lips and dropped kisses along her cheek and her neck. Spurred by her soft sounds of encouragement, he kissed her bare shoulder and the tops of her breasts and drew her up as he stood so he could wrap his arms around her.

Her mother wants her to seduce you.

The memory brought him back to his senses, and instead of covering that luscious mouth with his own once again, he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and dropped his hands.

He swallowed hard. His body was not reacting as a gentleman’s should. He wanted to feel her soft breasts against his chest and kiss her like she’d never been kissed before. He wanted to run his tongue along the lobe of her ear and drop gentle kisses down her neck and along her collarbone. He wanted to move lower and place kisses in the center of her cleavage. He wanted his hands on her. God, he wanted her. Desperately.

I have to leave. Now.

“Forgive me, my dear. I’m afraid your divine music made me lose control.”

She stared at him, her lips parted, her breathing rapid. She clenched her hands and held his gaze, as if forcing herself to remain still.

“Your music was mesmerizing, Jocelyn. I mean that sincerely. I look forward to future musicales where you are the featured artist.” He reached out and took her stiff fingers in his hand, bringing them to his lips. He turned his back so she couldn’t see how aroused he was, then strode into the sitting room, nodded at Roberts, and asked her to tell the butler he was ready to depart.

Jocelyn had followed him into the room and had a crimson flush on her cheeks. Hopefully Roberts wouldn’t notice, but if she’d done a proper job of chaperoning—well, he wouldn’t think about that now.

“I am so glad you found time to dine with us.” If Joss had been affected by their encounter, she gave no hint. The perfect hostess was his Joss. No, not his Joss. He must keep reminding himself. She had dismissed him—cruelly. He was going to marry someone else.

“As I said, invite me any time. I adore your cook. I may try to steal her.”

“You cannot do that, milord. My mother pays her well.”

“Your mother does have a way with getting what she wants, does she not?” He hoped his tone did not sound disingenuous.

“Indeed.”

The butler arrived with James’s outerwear and led him to the door where his carriage awaited. Jocelyn followed. “Please send a note around when Lady Longley returns.”

“I shall.” He turned, bowed, and kissed her hand as a proper gentleman should. Entering his carriage, he turned and waved then headed home.

Lord, how was he going to get through this farce? His feelings for Jocelyn seemed to grow each time he saw her. Perhaps proximity generated lust.

It is more than lust, and you know it.

Slaking his needs might help him forget that he’d once wanted Jocelyn Stafford more than anything in the world and was cruelly denied.

He could visit a brothel.

Or not.

He needed to forget Jocelyn, forget someone was trying to kill him, and forget the fact that he was about to saddle himself to someone he didn’t love.

But could he?
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About the Author 

Author of eight books on California history and eighteen romance novels, Pamela Gibson is a former City Manager who lives in the Nevada desert. Having spent the last few years messing about in boats, a hobby that included a five-thousand-mile trip in a 32-foot Nordic Tug, she now spends most of her time indoors happily reading, writing, cooking and keeping up with the antics of Ralph, the Rescue Cat. She loves dry red wine, all kinds of chocolate, old Jimmy Buffet sailing songs, and curling up with a good book. 

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Spotlight: Love’s Last Kiss by Sharon Wray

(a Deadly Force Novel)
Publication date: May 17th 2022
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Synopsis:

Is love worth risking everything for?

Rose Guthrie, a reluctant erotic dancer, hasn’t trusted anyone since her parents’ death. Yet, to make money for her brother’s heart transplant, she agrees to deliver a sealed box to a mysterious buyer. Until the box—and the seller—disappear. Not surprised by the betrayal, her situation becomes more dangerous when she learns that a brutal arms dealer, known as the Prince, also wants the box and will kill everyone she loves for it. With one clue left, she breaks into Doom—Savannah’s violent, illegal fight club. Unfortunately, Doom’s referee—the sexy, ex-Army Ranger, Kade Dolan—stands in her way. Although she harbors a secret attraction to Kade, she can’t let him stop her. If she doesn’t deliver the box on time, she’ll lose everything. Including her own life.

Rose doesn’t trust disgraced Army Ranger, ex-con Kade Dolan, but that’s okay—he doesn’t trust himself either. Why? Because he lies to everyone about everything, including his time in Leavenworth and his job as an illegal fight club referee. Then there are his two side gigs. The first as an informant for the Prince, the leader of a secret, two-thousand-year-old private army. The second, loving from afar the beautiful, secretive Rose Guthrie. After the Prince discovers Rose is the courier of a lost 18th century artifact, he orders Kade to help her find the box before their greatest enemy does. If they succeed, Kade must return it to the Prince. If they fail, Kade must kill her.

Betrayal or death. When faced with an impossible choice, Kade can’t lie anymore, at least not when it comes to what he’s about to do the woman he loves. But when Rose uncovers Kade’s lies, they learn a terrible truth—the 18th century box holds a secret far deadlier than they imagined. A secret that could destroy them all.

Excerpt

Kade dropped Rose’s hand and began to pace the hospital’s hallway, taking his heat with him. The air around her felt cooler, and she took a few more deep breaths. 

He ran his hand over his head and continued moving as if on a private mission. As if he couldn’t stop himself. As if afraid of what would happen if he did stop. “Deke, the club’s manager, is asking questions about the time you’ve been taking off. You’re the best the club has, but there is a line of women who’d love to take your place.”

Because the money was so good. Yes. She knew. She leaned her shoulder against the cold, concrete wall, grateful for the reprieve from Kade’s body temp. She was glad he’d pulled away. The last thing she needed was another complication. 

She focused on the long stretch of silent hallway behind him. “Hopefully Timmy can come home tomorrow. As long as he’s stable, I’ll be at the club every night for the rest of the week. That should shut Deke up for a while.” 

Kade paused in front of her, stared at her lips, and paced again. “Deke is also busy tormenting the two new bouncers he hired. They’re smart and strong. Two things Deke hates about other men.”

“Great. Deke feels threatened. That will make life easier for all of us.” She swallowed and lifted her chin. That might explain the weird text Deke had sent her earlier, asking if she needed another way to make money. She wanted to hear what he had to say, though, before giving him a firm answer.

Kade stopped in front of her for a third time and started to reach for her face but dropped his hand. That’s when she noticed a series of scars along his forehead. 

She closed her eyes and licked her lips. What was she doing? Noticing such personal things about a man she barely knew?

Rose.” Her name came out as a plea hidden beneath a whisper, and she opened her eyes. He moved closer. So close that his lips hovered over hers. So close that everything around her heated up again. So close that she had to raise her head to meet his blue gaze. “How can I help?”

“You can’t.

His eyelids lowered, and she felt his short, choppy breaths brush her cheek. “You don’t have to do what you’re doing. There are other jobs—”

“There aren’t.” She stood taller, despite shame’s heavy weight. She’d do whatever was needed to save her brother. “I barely finished high school and need to make money as quickly as I can. Besides Timmy’s medical bills, I also have legal fees and everyday living expenses.”

He took her elbows and drew her in until she leaned against his chest. He was so much taller, and her head barely reached his chin. She inhaled his masculine scent—a combination of leather and bourbon—and a tear traced her cheek. 

Slowly, she moved her hands to his waist.

Kade wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on her head. She fought against drawing herself in closer when all she wanted was to burrow into his warmth and cling to his strength. That was the thing with shame. It didn’t just strip away your dignity, it left you cold and alone.

Shame left you naked while reality snapped the whip.

And in her case, reality was a bully named Deke who managed Rage of Angels, Savannah’s infamous Goth nightclub.

“You don’t always have to be strong.”

Instead of laughing at his ridiculous statement, she tried to pull away. 

Kade tightened his hold and whispered against her hair, “It’s going to be okay.”

You don’t know that. She didn’t say the words because she didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the peace of the moment. 

She’d met Kade nine months ago when she’d started working at Rage of Angels, and she still knew nothing about him. While he’d helped her get the second waitressing job at the hotel where he bartended, they’d never dated, nor flirted, nor even held hands. 

Yet, in the past few weeks, she’d become hyperaware of his presence. No matter if he was bartending or bouncing, she always knew where he was and what he was doing. She’d even begun looking forward to seeing him at work. A miracle since the club was the sleaziest—and most violent—place in town.

When she heard his indrawn breath, she withdrew from his embrace and wiped her eyes, disappointed that he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he stared down the hallway.

She turned just as the overhead fluorescents flickered. For a brief moment, in between the blinking lights, it looked like a man in a black T-shirt was coming toward them with a…gun.

The lights went out. Kade threw her against the wall, using his larger body to shield hers. When the red emergency light flared, she noticed another man behind the gunman. The second man wore a black hoodie and a white eye patch. He also held a thin sword against his thigh.

The red emergency bulb, tucked within an iron cage, pulsed. The man in the hoodie now held the gunman with one arm and slipped the thin sword into his neck. The gunman fell to the ground, and she screamed until Kade covered her mouth. Slowly, the man with the sword lifted his head to stare at her. 

Then he wrapped one arm around his waist and bowed.

A moment later, the emergency light burned out and everything went black.

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About the Author

Sharon is a librarian who once studied dress design in the couture houses of Paris and now writes of novels of suspense, adventure, and love. A caretaker of Donut the one-eyed rescue dog, she's addicted to snapping photos and eating Oreos.

She writes the bestselling Deadly Force romantic suspense series where smart, sexy women teach their alpha males that Grace always defeats Reckoning.

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Spotlight: The Memory Keeper of Kyiv by Erin Litteken

Publication date: May 16th 2022
Genres: Literary Fiction

Synopsis:

Perfect for fans of The Tattooist of Auschwitz and The Beekeeper of Aleppo.

In the 1930s, Stalin’s activists marched through the Soviet Union, espousing the greatness of collective farming. It was the first step in creating a man-made famine that, in Ukraine, stole almost 4 million lives. Inspired by the history the world forgot, and the Russian government denies, Erin Litteken reimagines their story.
In 1929, Katya is 16 years old, surrounded by family and in love with the boy next door. When Stalin’s activists arrive in her village, it’s just a few, a little pressure to join the collective. But soon neighbors disappear, those who speak out are never seen again and every new day is uncertain.

Resistance has a price, and as desperate hunger grips the countryside, survival seems more a dream than a possibility. But, even in the darkest times, love beckons.

Seventy years later, a young widow discovers her grandmother’s journal, one that will reveal the long-buried secrets of her family’s haunted past.

This is a story of the resilience of the human spirit, the love that sees us through our darkest hours and the true horror of what happened during the Holodomor.

“I never imagined the release of my novel on a past oppression of the Ukrainian people would coincide with such a parallel tragedy.” Erin Litteken

May we never forget, lest history repeat itself.

A share of proceeds will be donated to DEC’s Ukraine Humanitarian Appeal.

Excerpt

 ...a gunshot cracked through the night air. The food basket slipped from Katya’s fingers and spilled onto the frozen ground. She raced down the moonlit path toward her aunt and uncle’s house, the bread and soup forgotten. Alina yelled for her to stop, but Sasha’s screams rang louder and kept Katya’s feet moving.

Alina’s long legs reached her easily and she tackled Katya to the ground. They landed in a snowdrift next to the barn, hidden from view. Katya’s pulse pounded in her ears, and terror made her body shake.

“Stop, Katya!” Alina hissed into her ear. “We have to get out of here!”

Limbs tangled, and their heavy coats twisted around them like a vice, but it didn’t keep Katya from trying to wrestle away from Alina. Her arm throbbed where Alina’s hand dug into it.

“No!” Katya wrenched her left leg from under Alina and rolled onto her stomach. Snow made its way into her boots and under the thick skirt she wore, the icy crystals numbing her legs. “We have to help them!” The restrained whisper made her throat ache.

Katya ripped off her coat, popping the buttons, and scrambled away from Alina. Sasha’s screams quieted to a whimper but still hung heavy in the air over their uncle’s quiet pleading.

“Please!” Alina begged as she grabbed Katya’s leg. “You know it’s too late for them! What do you think will happen if you run out there?”

Katya hesitated. Her sister was right, but how could she live with herself if she did nothing, just like everyone else?

“You will be killed,” Alina said, answering her own question when Katya didn’t. “And then what? What will become of Mama and Tato if they lose you, too? We need to go home, now!”

Her reference to their parents stopped Katya in her tracks. “I can’t. You can go if you want. I need to at least see what happens. We can peek around the corner of the barn and not be seen.”

Alina wrung her hands and looked in the direction of their home. “Fine. But we stay together. Don’t try to leave me again.”

The full moon reflecting on the snowy ground illuminated the scene in front of the girls. Two burly OGPU men in tall black boots and dark overcoats dragged their sobbing aunt out of the house. Already in her bed clothes and without a coat, Aunt Oksana flinched as the snow touched her bare skin.

Two other men stood in the yard with their pistols pointed at Uncle Marko. One, a small and skinny activist, looked to be Katya’s age. His pale face showed the shadows of a faint mustache, and he glanced at the older grizzled man next to him for direction.

Sasha, with her baby brother Denys in her arms, stood in the same spot Katya had sat with Sasha on her sister Olha’s wedding day only a few months before. Sasha’s older brother, Serhiy, nearly a grown man, stood behind them, closer to the house. When his mother struggled in the snow, he moved to help her.

“Stay right there!” The younger activist pointed his gun at Serhiy. It wobbled in his grip. “Or this time we shoot to kill!”

“She’s sick. That’s why she didn’t come out with us.” Serhiy held his hands up in the air while he took slow steps toward his mother. “I’m just going to help her.”

The younger activist lowered his arm slightly, as if he accepted Serhiy’s response. The other activist did not. He pointed his weapon and shot Serhiy.

When the gun went off, Katya lunged forward, her lips parting to yell for Serhiy to run, even though it was too late. Before she could get a sound out, Alina’s hand clamped over her mouth. She pulled Katya against her chest, her heart pounding in Katya’s ear, as they watched Serhiy fall. He landed on a bed of fresh, untouched snow. His blood spilled fast, spreading into a circle of scarlet around his motionless body.

“Never accept insolence from these people. It makes you look weak,” barked the man who had pulled the trigger. The young man nodded, his mouth hanging open and his eyes glued to the pool of blood seeping out around Katya’s cousin.

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About the Author

Erin Litteken is a debut novelist with a degree in history and a passion for research. At a young age, she was enthralled by stories of her family’s harrowing experiences in Ukraine before, during and after World War II. She lives in Illinois, USA with her husband and children.

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https://www.bookbub.com/profile/erin-litteken

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https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22288157.Erin_Litteken

Spotlight: Ryker by Samantha Lind

Release Date: May 19

After years of trying to get back home to be closer to my daughter, I finally secured a spot on the newly expanded San Francisco Shockwaves.

Juggling being the newly appointed Captain of the team and taking on full-time fatherhood to a teenager sends my life into chaos.

I quickly find myself needing someone who can pick up the pieces and keep my life in order as I certainly can’t do it alone.

I just never thought my savior would be the sexy woman next door- the one I can’t keep my mind or eyes off every chance I get.

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Meet Samantha Lind:

Samantha Lind is a contemporary romance author. Having spent the first 27 years of her life in Alaska, she now calls Iowa home where she lives with her husband and two sons. She enjoys spending time with her family, traveling, reading, watching hockey (Go Knights Go!), and listening to country music.

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Website: http://www.samanthalind.com  

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Spotlight: Our Laundry, Our Town: My Chinese American Life from Flushing to the Downtown Stage and Beyond by Alvin Eng

From behind the counter of his parents’ laundry and a household rooted in a different century and culture to the turbulent, exciting streets of 1970s New York City, playwright Alvin Eng shares his riveting, tender story of finding voice, identity and community through the transformative power of Asian American arts, activism, punk rock and theater.

Playwright, performer, acoustic punk rock raconteur, and educator Alvin Eng grew up in Flushing, Queens, a neighborhood of that singular universe that was New York City in the 1970s – back then, his was one of the few immigrant Chinese families to live there. His parents had an arranged marriage and ran a Chinese Hand Laundry. In OUR LAUNDRY, OUR TOWN: My Chinese American Life from Flushing to the Downtown Stage and Beyond, fans of memoirs that speak to the immigrant experience – such as Beautiful Country and Sigh, Gone – will delight in Eng’s illuminating time capsule of the Chinese-American experience, from the Chinatowns of the U.S to China’s motherland. Eng explores issues of identity, race, and societal expectations with marvelous humor, introspection and tenderness. 

Says Eng, “In some ways, my parents’ arranged marriage was the ultimate tragic opera in that I never once saw them dance or engage in any amorous way that went one breath or gesture beyond the bare-bones necessities of running our laundry and our family. In another sense, theirs was an unmitigated immigrant success story in that they both ventured to the other side of the world, at a time when our race was legally blocked from becoming U.S. citizens for almost an entire century, and prospered. Against mountains of societal, institutional, and legal obstacles, they raised five children and maintained a successful Mom-and-Pop Chinese hand laundry business for three decades, as well as two homes.”

Eng reconciles the push and pull of an insular home life with the turbulent yet inspiring street life around him – from faux martial arts TV stars to punk rock and theater. In the 1970s, NYC, like most of the world, was in the throes of regenerating itself in the wake of major social and cultural changes resulting from the Counterculture and Civil Rights movements. These same systemic conflicts form the core of our current global reckoning on representation and identity. 

By the 1980s, Chinese culture began to flourish in Flushing. Yet, Eng remained an outsider of sorts because he was one of Flushing’s few Chinese citizens who could not speak fluent Chinese. As a theatre practitioner and professor in the 21st century, discovering the under-chronicled Chinese influence on Thornton Wilder’s seminal Americana drama, Our Town, became the unlikely catalyst for a psyche-healing pilgrimage. 

At City University of Hong Kong, Alvin and his wife, director/dramaturg Wendy Wasdahl, led a Fulbright Specialist devised theatre residency on the Chinese influence on Our Town. From this residency, the US Consulate Guangzhou invited Alvin to perform his Our Town-inspired solo, The Last Emperor of Flushing, in his family’s ancestral Guangdong Province of southern China. Learning to proudly tell his own story on stage helped to make him whole.

Excerpt

From Chapter 1: The Urban Oracle Bones of Our Laundry: Channelling China’s Last Emperor and Rock ‘n’ Roll’s First Opera

While I have been blessed to have always had a roof over my head and the honor of living with loved ones, when I was growing up, homelessness was a constant spiritual state. A child’s longing to belong is one of the most powerful forces and relentless muses on Earth. In every culture, belonging has many different nuances of meaning and resonance. What and who exactly constitutes that destination of longing changes with every age and, in childhood, with every grade. What never seems to change is the feeling that we never quite arrive, and when or if we do, it only lasts for a fleeting time and was never quite what we expected. 

These memoir portraits are an attempt to decode and process the urban oracle bones from growing up as the youngest of five children in an immigrant Chinese family that ran a hand laundry. Our family was born of an arranged marriage, and our laundry was in the Flushing, Queens, neighborhood of that singular universe that was New York City in the 1970s. Like many children of immigrant or “other” family origins in late-twentieth-century America, I was constantly seeking American frames of reference with which to contextualize my own “outsider” experiences and sensibilities. 

Although Flushing became New York City’s second China-town during the 1980s, a.k.a. “The People’s Republic of Floo-Shing,” in the 1960s and ’70s, we were one of only a fistful of Chinese families there. The Flushing of my childhood was still basking in the afterglow of the post–World War II suburban baby boom. That boom was celebrated at the 1964–65 World’s Fair, held in Flushing Meadows Park. That World’s Fair was the zenith of “The American Century,” when anything was supposed to be possible. In this euphoric mood, Flushing immigrants were the last wave who gave up everything. They had forsaken their customs, their language—many would have changed their appearance if they could—just to get a whiff of “The American Dream.” 

The underside of growing up in the post–World War II euphoria of the World’s Fair, as well as in the shadows of the Cold War, was that China was looming as Uncle Sam’s Communist Public Enemy #2. Under this cloud, our laundry frequently became a target for salvos of verbal abuse like “Chinky Cho, Go Home!” As a child in this hostile milieu, I never envisioned even setting foot in China, let alone perform a memoir monologue, The Last Emperor of Flushing, there that I wrote in English based on my family. This monologue was inspired, in part, by Thornton Wilder’s Americana play Our Town. I also never would have imagined that this Americana work has some Chinese artistic influence and roots. 

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About the Author

ALVIN ENG is a native NYC playwright, performer, acoustic punk rock raconteur, and educator. His plays and performances have been seen Off-Broadway, throughout the U.S., as well as in Paris, Hong Kong, and Guangzhou, China. Eng is the editor of the oral history/play anthology, Tokens? The NYC Asian American Experience on Stage (Temple, 2000). His plays, lyrics, and memoir excerpts have also been published in numerous anthologies. His storytelling and commentary have been broadcast and streamed on National Public Radio, among others. www.alvineng.com

Spotlight: Marquess of Magic by Jennifer Monroe

Sisterhood of Secrets, Book Three

Historical Romance, Regency Romance

Date Published: May 19, 2022

Publisher: WOLF Publishing

In this mesmerizing Regency romance by Jennifer Monroe, a mysterious marquess and a misunderstood beauty need to realize that when love and magic mingle with desire, the results can be extraordinary…

Spellbound by a glamorous man…

Miss Diana Kendricks is the rarest of young women: She is actually looking forward to becoming a lifelong spinster!

Disillusioned by what she has seen of married life, she eagerly awaits the day when she is considered securely "on the shelf." However, Diana fails to take into account the most treacherous twist—her own traitorous heart, which finds itself skipping a beat when she meets Lord James Barrington, mysteriously labeled as the Marquess of Magic.

Love is the greatest enchantment of all…

Lord Barrington has always loved magic. Since childhood, he has found it thrilling to perform illusions and conjurations, to shock an audience, and leave them breathless. But in ordinary life, no magic can vanish away the dangerous secret he hides. James should not even be considering marriage. But when he chances upon Diana, she seems like his perfect match—beautiful, witty, with similar interests to his own. He cannot risk losing her to another suitor, and soon James has hopelessly ensnared both their hearts.

But James's secret will not stay hidden in the shadows. When it comes to love, the truth may be the greatest magic trick of all—and James must soon reveal it, lest he lose his one true love forever...

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About the Author

Jennifer Monroe writes Regency romances you can’t resist. Her stories are filled with first loves and second chances, dashing dukes, and strong heroines. Each turn of the page promises an adventure in love and many late nights of reading.

With over twenty books published, her nine-part series, The Secrets of Scarlett Hall, which tells the stories of the Lambert Children, remain a favorite with her readers.

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