Tuesday, December 30, 2014

24 Hour Challenge accepted and a Wiccan Haus to boot.

The highly talented and ever in need of a mend to her bucket Olivia Starke issued the following challenge last night



Dominique Eastwick you have been challenged! You have 24 hours to write a 2000 word short story. Whatever you like is perfect with me because you are awesomesauce. Here's my story http://romancingthepentoday.blogspot.com/…/challenge-accept…
Should you fail this challenge you face:
Public admission of failure (yikes!)
My big sad puppy dog eyes (double yikes)
No spanking from Anastasia Vitsky and forced to write an ode to her spoons....
Should you win:
You'll be acknowledged as the freebee super queen.
A great big virtual hug from me.
Your choice between an ecopy of The Baby Contract or an ARC of Heart's Paradise when it comes available.
The undying loyalty of your devoted readers.
You'll also get to issue your own writing challenge to an unsuspecting writer!

I accepted and have written a quick 2000 word Wiccan Haus Short story. Because fans want to know what happens with our surly weretiger Rekkus here you are.
* * * *
A Magic Moment a Wiccan Haus quick read.
(A moment with Dana and Rekkus)




(please note this was a 24 hour challenge I apologize now for it's unedited content)

Rekkus stood outside the cabin he shared with his mate Dana. Over the last couple of weeks he noticed an ever growing nervousness in her. She seemed jumpy and uncertain all the while ever able to take his head off at a moment’s notice.  As the ferry left for the mainland he heaved a sigh of relief. Although they were mated he feared Dana would climb aboard that boat and leave him. She after all was human and unlike his were-tiger self still had free will. She could live without him but he could not live without her. Fate was ever a nasty bitch.

As the boat slipped from the dock Cyrus, his best friend, patted his shoulder in the I told you so kind of way. They had been friends for so long and understood each other so well that words weren’t always necessary. He knew Rekkus’ fears and had taken them in with a heavy dose of concern and like any true friend a good amount of teasing. But not today, not now all he did was indicate with a flick of his chin in the direction of the cabin Rekkus now claimed as his.

She would burn a hole in the carpet with her pacing. His sensitive ears picked up on the steps long before the cabin came into the view. As he crested the hill to the beach where there small home sat, Dana’s emotions hit him in the solar plexus. She was on the verge of tears and it tore at his heart. Emotions he had long ago locked away tight were not kind to him as they resurfaced. He didn’t do emotions, didn’t like them but he loved his mate and for her and only her he would endure them.

He entered the cabin sure she would put on the fake smile she wore these last weeks like an iron mask. Yet she didn’t, she didn’t miss a step, so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed his appearance. “Talk to me.” The plea came out as a strange mixture of begging and demanding all in one.

Dana stopped, her eyes were red with unshed tears and her hand white as her fists clinched tighter. With unsure hand she pushed a stray strand of her smoky topaz hair behind her ear. “Rekkus, I didn’t hear…”

“Don’t, don’t you dare smile and pretend everything is fine. I know it’s not, tell me what is wrong. Your silence is killing me.” He stepped forward needing to pull her into his arms. He longed to place his cheek against her head and take in the citrus scent of her shampoo but she stepped away, withdrew from him. Hurt wracked through his large frame, Dana had withdrawn from him once early in their relationship when she became aware of that he was a Para. But he hadn’t opened his heart, his very soul to her yet so the rejection had been more of hurt male pride. But this was stronger, this rejection cut to the deep.

“I—I,” she stumbled before taking a deep breath, but she refused to look at him, her eyes locked on her fingers. “I just need some time.”

“Time? Time for what Dana? To decide if you are sick of living here on this island. To decide how best to tell me you would rather be on that ferry which is only now slipping into the fog wall.”

“No!” Dana now looked at him, looked and came running. Her hands cupped his check and he purred. Her touch always soothed his tiger beast. She grounded him, kept him calm. “I could never leave you; I never want to leave you. I love you.”

“Then what is wrong?” he demanded and his voice came out gruffer and more harsh then he intended. His emotions and he had to admit his fear were too close to the surface. But she didn’t back away she simply stood on tip toes and brushed her lips against his.

“I’m pregnant.” Her voice washed over him in a hush.

Everything in the world seemed to pause as ice chilled him from within. His head spun and for a brief moment he was sure he might hit the floor. But somehow Dana managed to get him to the sofa and the next thing he knew a glass of whisky was placed in his hands. “Drink.”

He did in one gulp, welcoming the heat as it thawed him from within burning the back of his throat. “Are you sure?”

“About the baby?” She nodded refilling his glass.

He placed the glass down, as much as he longed to drink it he didn’t want his senses blurred. He was to become a dad. Something he never dreamed possible. His line which was to die with him would now live on at least for one more generation. “How do you know?”

“I took a pregnancy test.” She gave a slight smile and pulled the stick from the pocket on her oversize hand knitted sweater. “Myron found me one. Apparently they keep them in the infirmary just in case and I guess her cards told her I needed one.”

“Myron knows?” Well that explained why the gypsy has been unusually quiet and well behaved the last week.

“I didn’t tell her the results and lets face it I don’t think I needed to. But I wanted you to be the first I told.” She handed him the long white plastic stick with two blue lines on it.

He looked at it in awe. He supposed he should think it strange she had it in her pocket but he knew she kept it close to remind her, give her proof. “What do the blue lines mean?”

She looked at him as if he should be wearing a dunce cap. “They mean I am pregnant.”

“I figured that out myself but does blue mean boy and pink mean girl. This is my first go around with the thoughts of fatherhood.”

“No the lines don’t mean anything other than certain hormones are in my system meaning I am pregnant.” Dana sat down and placed her hands over his. “I know we haven’t discussed children but we haven’t done anything to prevent them either.”

“I wasn’t sure we could create children together.”

“I don’t understand, your mother was human.”

“Yes but not all human/shifter relationships are blessed with children. More often than not they don’t. And before you came along I had long ago resigned myself that my line and streak would end with me.” Rekkus looked at the tiny white stick amazed. He looked back at Dana who seemed a little more at peace “I stood watching the human passengers load onto the ferry today convinced you were going to join them and figuring out how the hell I would let you.”

“How could you think I would ever leave you, this is my home. With you.”

“You haven’t been talking to me,  you  change the subject on a dime, hide your tears when you think I am asleep or not close enough to hear them, and pretend everything is okay when it was obvious to everyone that they aren’t. By the fates when you said you were ‘Fine’ last night I nearly lost it. Sarka said everything is good until a woman says she is fine—then you said it and I though you had pulled the rug out from under me.”

“Rekkus since when do you take relationship advice from Sarka Rowan? Hell when do you take advice from anyone other than Cyrus?”

“I listen to what you have to say.”

“Yes well that is only in your best interest isn’t it.” She smiled and the room warmed. He reached over and placed his hand on her soft belly. “There is nothing to feel yet.”

“It’s enough to know my child is there, safe within you.” He leaned over and kissed her. “But why were you so nervous to tell me? Why have you worked yourself up into a frenzy?”

“We never talked about children. I know you are great with teenagers but there is a big difference between teens and babies. Teens who you throw through the portal at the end of their week here I might add.”

She wasn't lying exactly but diverting he attention. “Dana that’s not what’s bothering you. I can’t help you with this if you don’t talk to me.”

She nodded and he could see the tension return. “What will the babies be? Babies, cubs?  How will I explain this to my family?  What will they--?” her voice faded off.

“Why do you care about those who have thrown you away or what they think?” Her family, more to the point her mother, had publicly disowned her shortly before her arrival at the Wiccan Haus. It had been those wounds that the staff was still working on healing even after all this time here.

“Because they are still my family. I can’t just turn off my feeling because they have chosen to ignore my existence. I think if I reached out to them.”

“You have reached out to them every month since you have been here and all your letters have been returned unopened.” Normally brutal honestly he preferred but when directed at Dana he wished he had the talents of Cemil Rowan, the resident empath, to be gentle with his words.

Dana nodded and curled into his chest. “I always hoped I would have my family with me when I became a mother that somehow being grandparents would change them. Okay not my mom but my father or perhaps my sister.”

“You want the fairy-tale?”

She nodded, “Is that so bad?”

“No but you have me and the Rowans. Not to mention Myron and Trixie. We may be slightly broken and more than a little crazy but all of us on the island love you.”

“I know.” He couldn’t see her smile but he sensed it.

He sensed something else, her fear because he felt it too. Childbirth could be dangerous but there were issues they would deal with that went beyond what form their baby would be human or tiger. Were babies were stronger at birth and gestation was longer. She would have to adjust to things she wasn’t prepared for. He would ensure she got the best care. “Sage will mother you until you are ready to scream.”

She pulled back a look of unease passed into her eyes. “Can we not tell them just yet?”

His brows furrowed. “If that is what you want.”

“We have so few secrets here. I would just like to keep this one for a little while yet.”

He nodded leaning back into the sofa, pulling her into his arms. He would need to be more protective of her now. Make sure she felt safe and had everything she needed. “Whatever you need my luv.”

She fell asleep in his arms. This was all he needed, to make sure she and the Rowans were safe. He let her sleep as long as he could. But when Cyrus peeked his head around the corner he knew her peaceful nap must end. No matter how hard he tried she always woke up when he left her, she said it was like someone removing a warm blanket on a cold night, you always woke up.

“Cyrus you suck at stealth.”

“Only when dealing with catlike hearing like yours.” Cyrus looked at Dana and smiled. “She seems more restful. Everything alright?”

“It is.”

“I hate to disturb her nap but Myron really does need you  Serena just showed up unexpectedly via the lake tunnel.”

“I am going to have that damn opening blasted closed one day.” Rekkus growled which in turn woke his mate. “Dana I have to deal with a mermaid. Do you want to come up to the main Haus with me or stay here?”

“I’ll come. I enjoy watching the guest arrive, it’s nice to see their transformations through the week.” She rose adjusting her skirt.

“We also have Kaleb Theldon arriving.” Cyrus said grabbing an apple from the basket on the table.

Rekkus looked at Cyrus for a second before his brain started functioning. Damn he nearly forgot about the new recruit coming to island, not that Kaleb had any idea why he was here. “We shall see if he is good enough for the team.”

“It’s been a long time since I have looked forward to a guest as much as I do this one.” Cyrus bit into the apple and chuckled as he wiped the juices off his chin.

Dana looked between the two men. “Why do I think this poor man has no idea what he is in for?”

Rekkus just smiled what his wife didn’t know she didn’t worry about. Not that she would worry about him but the poor human who had to undergo a gauntlet of tests to prove himself worthy of protecting both para and human alike. “I promise to be—“

“Yes?” Cyrus and Dana asked as they walked out the door.

“I was going to say gentle but that would be a lie. Besides the only one who I am gentle with if you.”

“Oh gawd if I have to listen to this sappy rubbish all the way to the haus I might lose my lunch.” Cyrus made a gagging sound but turned to Dana and smiled. “Come on you two, you can have your privacy after dinner.”

Rekkus grabbed Dana’s hand and brought it to his lips. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to, he knew every emotion he felt could be clearly written in his eyes for his mate to read and only she knew how to read him.
****
You can Read how it all began in Shifting Hearts



Learn more about the series or how to write for it at http://thewiccanhaus.blogspot.com/


Now my Challenge

Kate Richards you have been challenged! You have 24 hours to write a 2000 word short story. You know I adore you and worship your writing. Here's my story http://dominiqueeastwick.blogspot.com/2014/12/24-hour-challenge-accepted-and-wiccan.html
Should you fail this challenge you face:
Public admission of failure (yikes!)
My ever disappointment.
No spanking from Anastasia Vitsky, jello shots from Stephanie Beck or a new bucket from Olivia Starke 
Should you win:
You'll be acknowledged as the freebee super queen.
A great big virtual hug and many cheers from me.
Your choice of any of my books in ecopy.
The undying loyalty of your devoted readers.
You'll also get to issue your own writing challenge to an unsuspecting writer!



Thursday, December 25, 2014

I came I saw I made the Fudge and....


IT WAS GOOD!!!!!!!!!

I saw this on Facebook and decided to try it...I can't make candy to save my life. Much like my character Rowena (but I can bake). Anyway I made this and it's simple and easy and yes its Way YUMMY!!!!!!!


Here is the Recipe from ALLRECIPE.COM  http://allrecipes.com/recipe/fudge/detail.aspx
                        
3 cups semisweet chocolate chips
                
                
                
        

Directions

  1. Place chocolate chips, sweetened condensed milk, and butter or margarine in large microwaveable bowl. Zap in microwave on medium until chips are melted, about 3-5 minute, stirring once or twice during cooking. Stir in nuts, if desired.
  2. Pour into well-greased 8x8-inch glass baking dish. Refrigerate until set.



While you are waiting for it to set check out my book.

HOT BURNING LOVE
 
 
 
Rowena may be the best witch of her generation when it comes to crystals and their healing power but keep her far away from the oven. No matter how hard she tries there is no way to break a curse decades old that prevents her from baking anything at all. And she as well as her five witch friends have tried it all. So every month a cookie club time she buys her cookies to the thankful cheers of the others.
Caine has fantasized about Rowena and her curves since they met years ago while she visited her best friend at the college they both attended. When a job opportunity comes up in her home town it’s too much of a temptation to resist. After all when you want something for so long there comes a time a man just has to go for it.
When passion flames between them can love fight the dark magic swirling around them determined to break them or will the fires that burn in the kitchen burn them as well.
 

Saturday, November 29, 2014

NOW AVAILABLE...The Earl and His Virgin Countess.

Now Available where all Ebooks are sold
Book Three in the House of Lords 1NS series.
 
The Earl and His Virgin Countess
 
 


Decadent Publishing || Amazon || ARe || Barnes & Noble || Smashwords || Kobo

Lord Andrew Masterson, Earl of Windenshire has had a string of bad luck with women. While his best friends are all getting leg-shackled, he can’t seem to get a lady to stay in his presence long enough to court them. Not sure what he might be doing wrong, he turns to Madame Evangeline, hoping she can help him change his luck.
Betrothed since before her birth to Lord Masterson, Miss Miranda Beauchamp has prepared to be his countess ever since. Although the Earl of Windenshire maintains her upkeep and pays for everything she needs, she might as well not exist for all the attention he pays her. Determined to break the marriage contract, she’ll go to desperate measures to achieve her goal, even if it means losing her virginity to do so.
Can Madame Eve show Andrew and Miranda there is more than a contract between them? Or will family secrets and years of hurt be too much for the earl and his virgin countess to overcome?




“Yes, please. Perhaps it’s unladylike to admit, but I am starving.”
He smiled, taking her plate. “It’s actually quite refreshing. I grow tired of petite young things who eat nothing and pass out at a drop of the hat.”
“I am neither young nor petite.”
No, she had curves in all the right places. Making sure it wasn’t ignored, his cock twitched as it hardened. “You seem perfect to me.”
“Ha! Far from perfect.” Again her lips formed the tantalizing O before she asked, “Did you put something in my tea?”
“I did not.”
“Then I have no excuse for my behavior.”
He laughed that time, filling her plate with a bit of everything. “You have done nothing in need of excusing.”
“But I would have thought you’d prefer a perfect woman.” Her eyes clouded with what appeared to be confusion. He supposed it wasn’t too hard to believe; a peer of the realm would be looking for what society considered would be important in a mate. He handed her the plate laden with delicacies and far more food than he had ever seen any woman eat.
“Thank you, milord—Andrew.”
“You’re welcome. Now, indulge me.” he said, retaking his seat in the high back chair. “What do you think is perfection?”
“I believe....” Taking a bite, she contemplated the question. “Perfection for you would be a woman who is well-mannered and carries herself with decorum at all times. She is the perfect hostess. She does delicate needlework, plays the pianoforte, and sings beautifully. She would complement you, if on your arm, and would never argue.”
What she described sounded like a paper doll. A woman with no thoughts of her own. He didn’t want a vacant vessel in his bed only for the purpose of begetting children; he wanted a partner. Andrew yearned to have a woman look at him the way Llysa and Chandra looked at their men. Both women stood up to their lordly men, all the while complementing and supporting Wolfe and Simon. “Sounds bloody boring, if you ask me.”
“Really.”
“Might as well be with a living statue. I’ll bet this woman would also stare at the ceiling and think about England while I drive into her.”
She choked on her bite. “I suppose she just might.”
“And she probably eats enough to stay barely alive, ties her corset too tight, and then faints at the slightest hint of impropriety.”
“Oh dear, yes, into the most dainty faints possible.”
“I would rather face the guillotine than endure a woman of that sort.” Setting his food aside, he turned his attention fully on her. Her face lit up as they continued to banter back and forth, showing none of the disgust she’d found for him earlier. Standing, he grabbed her plate while ignoring her protest. “Would you condemn me to such a cavernous, empty life, Miranda?”
“Condemn?”
“Utter and complete boredom.” He sat on the edge of the seat next to her. “Somehow I have a feeling you could never bore me.”
“Well, but then, I am not perfect.” 
 
 
 
 

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

1st review is in for Earl and his Virgin Countess

The first review for The Earl and his Virgin Countess is in and thank you to
 
 
 
 
 
"The Earl and his Virgin Countess by Dominique Eastwick was a quick read that I enjoyed very much. There is just enough steam and humor to make this short story a hit. I found myself laughing loudly at Miranda as her fiery temper got the better of her. It was also very amusing when her curiosity would get the better of her. Poor Andrew had no idea what hit him. What I liked most about this story is that Andrew (an earl) was not a complete ass as most others are portrayed. This was very refreshing.
I give this book 5 stars. It was more than I was expecting and I look forward to reading more from this author. I find myself smiling every time I think about this book."
 
To check out this review and all their reviews click Here
 
 

Thursday, November 20, 2014

And FINALLY Book 4...

After over a year of blood, sweat and a few tears. I can finally say that book four in the Sherman series is contracted and in edits.

Spencer's story is finally being told but can he mend his broken heart or will Chance just be a bandage on his wound?

No release date yet but stay tuned.

I am currently working on the next Wiccan Haus book. Can't wait to get it finished and subbed as well.

Need to catch up on the Sherman series. Here is the order.


 



 
 

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Cerise DeLand tells all in THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE, box set, 99 cents!

Can a family be cursed to never enjoy happily-ever-after love affairs? Cerise DeLand tells all in THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE, box set, 99 cents!




Cerise DeLand brings you the story of the Stanhope family whose members for centuries have not enjoyed any happily-ever-after love affairs!
 
Here’s a nibble of new cherry:

Copyright, 2014 Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.

London, January 1809

 
It is a truth, universally accepted, that a politician in want of the premiership must also be in want of a wife.
Felice knew that was her new husband’s justification for marrying her so quickly.
“A reason as good as my own,” she told herself as she combed her hair back from her face and fluffed the ruffled bodice of her wedding dress. She pursed her lips, wondering how Adam really kissed a woman. How he kissed his mistresses. After the ceremony minutes ago, he had merely brushed her mouth with his. She’d always thought her lips worth more than a peck—and she was determined that this second husband of hers would do more than ignore her.
“I’ll ensure that he does,” she resolved, with a check of her figure in the cheval mirror in the retiring room of her new brother–in–law’s mansion on Grosvenor Square. “After all, the fictitious Miss Proper has charms that Adam does not know about.”  Nor should he!
That secret could ruin her marriage. “And I intend to keep both the secret and my marriage!” 
So go to your wedding breakfast and be done with this mooning. She had accepted his proposal. Now she would reap the rewards. London Society was open to her—the excitement of their lives, their intrigues ready fodder for her pen. For her romances and poems.
She frowned at herself.
Be honest, Fee. You want more than inspiration for your stories. More than a means to repay that nefarious man your first husband’s debt. You want Adam Stanhope gracing your own bed, not just his look-alike walking on the pages of your newest romance. You want him inside your body. Making you wet and warm. And kissing your—
A quick knock at the door had her whirling.
“Dear Felice,” cooed her husband’s Great Aunt Amaryllis from behind the portal. “Do come out now. We are quite eager to applaud you and Adam. The guests, too, are clamouring for the receiving line!”
Fee scoffed. Most likely, the men wanted more wine while they made wagers on how soon Adam would bed her. And the women? They wanted to assess how a country mouse like her managed to snare the renowned, rich and eloquent Adam Stanhope. Third son of the earl. Widower. Father. Someday soon, the head of his party, if the papers and broadsheets were to be believed. And thereafter certainly, prime minister.
“Adam Stanhope,” she murmured to herself. “A great catch, Fee. If you can intrigue him.”
And there was the rub.
Adam, now thirty, was notorious for outlandish behavior. When he’d turned seventeen, he’d run away from home and sailed to Hong Kong to work with his cousin in his Far Eastern trading company. Four years later, he’d come home to finish his education at Cambridge, marry the beauty of the Season and run for Parliament. He’d won twice now. But since his wife had died in childbirth, Adam had made a name for himself as a rake. He was just like his brothers in that regard. Still, he was the only one who had married and challenged the Stanhope family curse. For it was a legend that no matter whom a Stanhope married, no matter that person’s quality of character or breeding or good intentions, once wedded, a Stanhope lived in hell.
“I will be happy.” Felice repeated the phrase that had become her motto ever since Adam had appeared in Kent last month and proposed. “I’ll dispense with this hideous man plaguing me for money to cover those old debts. Then I will devote myself to ensuring Adam is happy. I will be a social asset to him. And a good mother to his son.”
What more could a man ask for?
****
 “A politician has to have a wife! Who the devil put that ridiculous rule about, Reggie?” Adam Stanhope asked his friend as he paced in his brother Jack’s drawing room at eleven in the morning. He threw back another shot of Jack’s fine brandy and coughed. “Oh, lord, that burns all the way down. Whose idea was it to stay out all night, eh?” He scrubbed his hand over his face, acknowledging his predicament had less to do with excess alcohol than with Fee Wentworth. Correction, Stanhope. “Dammit, you’d think a respectable widower with an heir earned the right to be free!”
“No help for it, old man,” Reggie responded and drained his glass of spirits. “Damn good stuff, if I say so myself! But see here, Adam, you admitted you need her. We’ve been through this entire argument before. You’ve got a bit of a reputation, courtesy of that Miss Proper’s ramblings and—”
The far door burst open. Adam’s oldest brother, Jack, appeared in all his dark imperious hauteur. He took one look at both men and slipped inside to shut the world out. “Now, Adam. Reggie. What the hell are you doing in here drinking?”
Adam cocked a long black brow at the man who expected to be obeyed in all things. “Drowning my sorrows.”
“Too late for that!” Jack’s mouth twitched in a grin. “Get the hell out there so we can toast the good health of the bride and groom.”
“Come, come, Jack,” he grumped, “you know what this marriage means for me.”
Jack’s black brows arched high. “Oh, I do. One look at your bride and I have a very good idea that—”
Adam scowled at his brother. “She’s lovely.” Damned gorgeous, in fact. And mine, god help me now. “But I have ruined her.”
Jack startled. “You’ve had her? Already?”
“No, no. That’s not what I mean.”
Jack, his grimace deepening, strode over to remove the snifter glass from Adam’s fingertips. “Sadly, I know what you mean. And this does not help.”
“I’ve known her since she was ten, Jack!” Adam thrust out a hand, roiled by what he had just done to this sweet, shy woman.
“And? She was a charming child then. Now you have—”
“Wrecked her life!  That’s what I’ve done!”
Jack narrowed his eyes on his brother. “How late did you stay at White’s last night?”
When Adam said “Ba!” and shook his head, Jack peered at Reggie. “How late?”
The man winced and brushed imaginary crumbs from his cravat. “Five. Six. Not certain. We were winning at dice, you see, and couldn’t leave.”
Jack glared at the ceiling.  “I hope to god it was profitable.”
Adam grinned through his pain. “Five thousand in my pockets I hadn’t had before!”
The far door opened again. An auburn–haired man stuck his head in. “What the hell is the delay here?”
Jack beckoned him. “Wes, Adam is having a rather belated moment of introspection. Do come in and help me talk sense into our youngest brother.”
Wes took a step inside and shut the door behind him. In his cavalryman’s dress blues, he leaned back against the door. “What’s the matter, Adam? Nerves?”
Adam rolled his shoulders. “Every man’s entitled. You told me so yourself.”
“That,” Wes chuckled as he limped over to the chair beside Adam and fell into it, “is before a man goes into battle!”
“Well, I am!”
Wes gave him the quelling glance his men termed The Demand. “You are married.”
“I know I thought it a good idea. Despite the horror of my marriage to Sarah.” The mere mention of his first wife sent a wave of revulsion through him. “Everyone thought it a good idea. My colleagues. The Prime Minister. But you both, most of all, know this won’t work.”
Wes pursed his lips. “I’ve seen your new lady wife, and I say give it a go. If you admit defeat before you start, you’re doomed.”
“This is not a cavalry charge,” Adam murmured.
Wes shrugged. “Perhaps it should be.”
“Wes, have a little pity,” Adam pleaded, his head splitting from too much whiskey and too little sleep.
“No pity for you,” Wes shot back. “Felice lives up to her name in temperament as far as I can tell. And her figure, Adam, has certainly become more alluring than when I last saw her in Great Aunt Amaryllis’ garden.”
“She was ten!”
“Was she, now? Hmm. No wonder she was flat-chested.”
“Now see here,” Adam admonished his older brother. “Her figure is—”
“Superb and yours to explore.” Wes wiggled his brows suggestively, then looked at Jack.  “We met her when we first summered at Aunt’s house. What year was it Father foisted us off on the poor old gel?”
Adam groaned. “It doesn’t matter!” I liked her then. Enjoyed her wit and intelligence every time we met. Now I’ve gone and hurt her irrevocably.
Jack shook his head. “Don’t argue with him, Wes. He’s got a snoot full from an all-night gambling rout at White’s. It only encourages him to debate you. And neither of us can ever outtalk him.” He gave his brother, the Colonel and Man of Action, a wide-eyed look of despair. “The curse is upon him.”
“Oh, hell,” Wes mourned. “Not that again.”
Adam frowned at both of his brothers. “That again? I don’t seem to recall that either of you is yet married. Why not?”
“Not our time,” Jack told him.
“No woman I like enough,” Wes added. “You, Jack?”
“None I cannot live without,” Jack said with pointed disdain for the subject. “Come on, Adam, let’s do our drinking out there with all the others.”
“They all wonder, you know,” Adam offered, his gaze on the door.
“What?” Reggie asked when the two Stanhope brothers didn’t respond to him.
All three Stanhopes considered Reggie Mortenson with bleak expressions.
Adam answered for them all. “They wonder when Felice will leave me. As we speak, they are out there taking wagers on the number of months she remains.”
“The Stanhope women don’t all leave,” Jack reminded Adam.
The three brothers winced and looked at anything but each other. Adam knew each man thought of his own mother and how each had died in succession. And even though Jack’s mother passed away after a riding accident, Wes’s died of consumption and Adam’s of childbed fever, the ton declared each woman had suffered first and foremost from a broken heart.
“He says he loved each one,” Jack reminded them of the phrase their father repeated to them often.
Adam shut his eyes. “He declares he loved Clarice’s mother, too!” Their charming half-sister Clarice had been Stanhope’s by-blow, conveniently born between Jack and Wes.
“Aye,” Wes acknowledged with a smirk. “In his prime, the man was a walking satyr.”
Jack inclined his head toward Wes. “Astonishing, isn’t it, that he managed his estates as well as he did, hopping from bed to bed like a right royal degenerate.” He flourished a hand. “Yet, he cared for each woman he bedded.”
Adam growled. “How can you believe him?” He had never known their father to be honest with anyone, least of all his three legitimate sons. “You were four years old,” Adam reminded Jack, then faced Wes. “And you were two when I was born and my mother took a childbed fever. How can you know that he tells the truth?”
Jack rolled a shoulder. “Perhaps on this one issue…”
Adam shook his head, hands fisted on his hips. “I long to see the day each of you faces a woman whom you do not wish to kill with the family curse.” He straightened his cravat and ran two hands through his hair. “For god’s sake. Open the damn door, Wesley, I’m ready to claim my bride and ruin both our lives.”
* * * * *
4 Brothers, 4 Love Affairs, 4 Marriages
That Challenge the Family Curse
Jack, Adam, Wes and Mark Stanhope fear falling in love. No wonder. No Stanhope has enjoyed a happy marriage in centuries. What does it take to change the family curse? Courage? Devotion? Love?
 


LORD STANHOPE’S IMPROPER PROPOSAL
Adam Stanhope is a politician who needs a wife. When he marries for convenience, he overlooks the fact that he cares for his lovely childhood friend more than he should.
 
LADY FEATHERSTONE’S FERVENT AFFAIR
Wes Stanhope is a national hero, but he’s wounded physically and emotionally. When the woman he loves wants to help him, he learns that the woman he adores can be just as courageous in the bedroom as he was on the battlefield.
 
MISS DARLING’S INDECENT OFFER
Jack Stanhope leads a carefree existence but when he meets Emma Darling, he realizes that in saving this woman from dastardly men is his saving grace.
 
THE BASTARD’S PASSIONATE PRIZE
Illegitimate Mark Stanhope expects nothing from his family, but when they save him, he in turn saves a young noblewoman who has the valor to stand against others who would abuse her.
 
BUY LINKS:  THE STANHOPE CHALLENGE, Regency Quartet
ARe    AMAZON   NOOK    KOBO  iTunes
 
            Enjoy her Regency Romp series, LADY VARNEY’S RISQUE BUSINESS, RENDEZVOUS WITH A DUKE and in January, third in this series, MASQUERADE WITH A MARQUESS debuts! Here is a sneak peek at the gorgeous new cover!
            Meanwhile, RENDEZVOUS has been on numerous bestseller lists for more than 6 weeks…and STANHOPE sits there now, too!
 
 
 
AUTHOR BIO:
Cerise DeLand loves to cook, hates to dust, lives to travel, read—and write sexy romances.  A Top 20 Bestselling author on many sites, Cerise is known for writing eloquent, rapturous stories.
Come to her blog and find FAB.U.LOUS pix of her recent trip to France, including pictures of Malmaison, Fountainebleau, Chantilly and more more more! She also gives you her version of French recipes she adores! http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com
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