That is, until he sets eyes on Ianthe Templeton …
Ianthe lives in the shadow of her beautiful twin sister, Serena, and longs to escape the ‘mindless entertainments’ she is forced to endure in London. She soon finds herself captivated by the enigmatic Wyckeham and tempted by his promises of a new life in the idyllic English countryside …
But can Wyckeham and Ianthe overcome the malicious schemes of spiteful siblings and evil stepmothers to find wedded bliss? Or will Wyckeham discover, all too painfully, that the past has come back to bite him for a second time?
Desperate Remedies
‘She would never forget the day her heart broke …’
Lexie Holloway falls desperately in love with the devastatingly handsome Earl of Synley after a brief encounter at a ball. But Synley is already engaged to be married and scandal surrounds his unlikely match with the ageing, but incredibly wealthy, Lady Catherine Downes. Heartbroken, Lexie resolves to remain a spinster and allows circumstance to carry her far away from England to a new life in Italy. However, the dashing Earl is never far from her thoughts.
Years later, she returns home to find that much has changed – including the marital status of Synley. Whilst the once notorious Earl is a reformed character, the problems caused by his first marriage continue to plague him and it appears that his life may be in danger.
Can Lexie help Synley outwit those who wish to harm him and rekindle the flame ignited all those years ago, or will her associations with the Earl bring her nothing but trouble?
Marry in Haste
Regency Romance Collection
‘I need to marry, and I need to marry at once’
When James, Viscount Demarr confides in an acquaintance at a ball one evening, he has no idea that the potential solution to his problems stands so close at hand …
Amelia Ravenscroft is the granddaughter of a earl and is desperate to escape her aunt’s home where she has endured a life of drudgery, whilst fighting off the increasingly bold advances of her lecherous cousin. She boldly proposes a marriage of convenience.
And Amelia soon proves herself a perfect fit for the role of Lady Demarr. But James has doubts and his blossoming feelings are blighted by suspicions regarding Amelia’s past.
Will they find, all too painfully, that if you marry in haste you repent at leisure?
Find out more and purchase from your favourite eBook store. Visit www.choc-lit.com for details.
New England Rocks
Young Adult novel
First impressions, how wrong can you get?
When Rain Mackenzie is expelled from her British boarding school, she can’t believe her bad luck. Not only is she forced to move to New England, USA, she’s also sent to the local high school, as a punishment.
Rain makes it her mission to dislike everything about Northbrooke High, but what she doesn’t bank on is meeting Jesse Devlin …
Jesse is the hottest guy Rain’s ever seen and he plays guitar in an awesome rock band!
There’s just one small problem … Jesse already has a girlfriend, little miss perfect Amber Lawrence, who looks set to cause trouble as Rain and Jesse grow closer.
But, what does it matter? New England sucks anyway, and Rain doesn’t plan on sticking around …
Does she?
Find out more and purchase from your favourite eBook store. Visit www.choc-lit.com for details.
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Preview
Trade Winds
Christina Courtenay
Chapter One
Edinburgh, Scotland
August 1731
‘You have the devil’s own luck, Kinross, but it can’t last. Just one more throw of the dice and you’ll see I’m right.’
Killian Kinross stared at the man sitting opposite him and weighed up the risk. On the table between them lay the money he had won so far and it was a fair amount. He was too canny these days to trust the fickle Lady Luck completely though. As usual, he had taken the precaution of slipping some of his coins into his pockets when the others weren’t looking, just in case of an emergency.
He glanced at the winnings again. It was very tempting to just pick it all up and leave, but gambling was his only income and he was known as a man who rarely refused to play. For the sake of future earnings, he wanted it to stay that way.
‘You’ve nothing left to play with, McGrath,’ he drawled. ‘Shouldn’t you go home and lick your wounds?’
The other two men sharing the table muttered in agreement, their words slurred from too much wine. McGrath wasn’t as far gone and glared back. ‘There’s still my ship. I’ll wager that against your entire night’s winnings.’
‘That old sieve?’ Killian scoffed, even though he’d never actually seen it. ‘What would I want with that? Besides, you’ll need it yourself now I’ve cleaned you out. How else will you make a living?’
Although McGrath was an uncouth man who deserved no consideration, Killian didn’t want to bankrupt anyone he gambled with. It would be stupid to acquire a reputation for such things, then others might refuse to play with him. That would be nothing short of a disaster.
‘If I don’t win back what I’ve already lost, I can’t afford to buy a cargo in any case,’ McGrath growled. ‘So I might as well take the chance.’
Killian studied the man for a while longer, considering his options. He could lose a huge amount of money. On the other hand, if he refused, McGrath might think him a coward and spread rumours to that effect. He made up his mind.
‘Very well, if you’re hell-bent on destroying yourself, so be it.’ He sounded more confident than he felt. The odds really were in McGrath’s favour and they both knew it.
McGrath smiled, a wolfish grin that showed Killian just how sure he was of winning this time. ‘Excellent, but first, some more wine. You there, girl,’ he shouted at a serving wench who was passing by, ‘bring some more of that piss you call Burgundy.’
The girl threw him a look of acute dislike, but did as she was told. When she returned, she made a point of standing next to Killian rather than McGrath. She leaned over at just the right angle to give him an eye-full of her assets. Straightening up, she touched him on the arm and said, ‘Anything else for you, sir?’ Killian shook his head with a smile and watched her sashay away to the next customer.
‘You’re too damn handsome for your own good.’ Rory Grant, his long-time friend and gambling companion, cuffed him jokingly on the shoulder. ‘Should leave some ladies for the rest of us.’
‘And you shouldn’t drink so much, then they might look twice at you too. You’re not much use to them in that state,’ Killian shot back.
‘Rory’s right though.’ The fourth man at the table, Dougal Forster, nodded
in exaggerated fashion. ‘With you around, the rest of ush don’t get a look-in. Sh’not fair.’
Killian didn’t know whether to be amused or exasperated. He was well aware the ladies seemed to like what they saw when they met him. He had always refused to wear a wig and his thick auburn hair, bright blue eyes and even features usually made women stare at him with longing. It was something he’d become used to and he rarely gave it a thought. Besides, Rory and Dougie had their fair share of amorous adventures, even if they couldn’t compete with Killian when it came to looks. Tall, blond and easy-going, Rory could charm most ladies if he had a mind to, and although Dougal was shorter, with dark hair and eyes, he was so good-natured it was impossible not to like him. Killian let their comments pass. No doubt they’d have forgotten the conversation by morning in any case.
‘Are we playing or not?’
McGrath’s petulant voice brought Killian back to the matter in hand. He nodded. ‘Do you want to go first?’
‘Aye, I do.’ The man picked up the little container and rattled it, but stopped abruptly. ‘I say we ask for new dice first though. Just to make sure.’
Killian frowned. ‘Are you accusing me of cheating?’
‘No, no, but I’m not taking any chances. Why, do you refuse me the right to change them?’
‘Go ahead, it makes no difference to me. Just takes longer, that’s all.’ Killian shrugged, but inside he was seething. He had never cheated in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now.
After a lengthy delay, new dice were found, and McGrath picked up the container once more. He muttered some incantations for good luck in Gaelic, then shook the dice as hard as he could before rolling them onto the table.
‘A four and a six,’ Rory commented, as if they couldn’t see that for themselves. ‘You’ll have a hard time beating that, my friend.’ He tried to cuff Killian’s shoulder again, but missed and almost fell off his chair.
‘For heaven’s sake, Rory.’ Killian took a deep breath, trying not to let on that he felt as rattled as the bones they were playing with. He had already thrown double sixes twice this evening. There was no chance they’d come up again unless a minor miracle happened. He cursed inwardly. I should have walked away with the spoils while I had the chance and to hell with the consequences!
But it was too late for regrets.
Scooping up the dice, he put them back in the container and began to shake it in his turn. The sound was familiar, almost soothing, but he knew it was a stupid way of earning a living. Sometimes, like right now, he wished that he had found some other means of supporting himself. He pushed the thought aside and spilled the dice onto the table with a flourish.
‘Hell’s teeth!’ Rory blinked and rubbed his eyes. They were probably smarting as much as Killian’s from the unwholesome atmosphere inside the tavern, a mixture of cheap, smoking candles and a fire made up with unseasoned wood that belched grey clouds into the room.
‘A six and a five? I don’t believe it.’ With a roar of rage, McGrath upended the table. Dougie, who’d been on the verge of falling asleep, crashed to the floor and sat there staring around him with an expression of total confusion. Most of the coins ended up on his lap, but he seemed not to notice.
‘You just can’t have that kind of luck, Kinross, it’s impossible!’ McGrath bellowed.
‘Meaning what?’ Killian narrowed his eyes at the man as righteous anger surged through him. He’d had more than enough of McGrath’s insinuations. ‘Be careful what you say,’ he warned. ‘I’d never seen those dice before and you know it.’
But McGrath was beyond listening to reason. His face was purple with rage and his throat worked as if he was having trouble making any sounds at all. Instead of replying, he launched himself at Killian, fists flying.
Throughout the taproom there was a mad scramble across stools, tables and benches as everyone realised there was a fight going on. No one wanted to miss such entertainment and a circle quickly formed round the two combatants. The crowd began to egg them on, shouting out advice and abuse in equal measures. Most of the spectators probably didn’t know what the fight was about, but they didn’t care. The thrill of it was all that mattered.
Killian ignored the onlookers and concentrated on the man in front of him. He side-stepped the first onslaught with ease, feinting left, then right, and lashing out with a quick fist. This wasn’t the first time he’d been challenged and he’d learned the hard way how to defend himself.
McGrath charged at Killian several times, but despite the rage that lent the man extra strength, Killian’s fast reflexes kept him at bay. Time and again, Killian’s punches hit their target, while McGrath’s mostly went wide. With a snarl of fury, McGrath finally stepped back and produced a lethal looking dirk from inside his sleeve.
‘Now we shall see,’ he muttered and with a triumphant smile he tossed the knife from one hand to the other, showing off his skills with the blade. Killian drew in a sharp breath and felt a shiver of unease snaking up his back. Fisticuffs was one thing, a knife fight quite another. He had to end this, and quickly.
When McGrath attacked, Killian danced out of reach of the flashing steel. Before his opponent had time to even blink, he retaliated with a lightning strike, faster than a viper’s bite. His knuckles connected with McGrath’s left temple, all the strength of his powerful arm and shoulder behind the blow. While the man was temporarily stunned, Killian reached for his wrist with both hands and twisted it until the dirk clattered to the floor.
McGrath tried to fight back, but with his flabby girth and a gut full of wine he was no match for the much younger and fitter man. Killian punched him once more and McGrath fell backwards into the crowd. With a cheer, they pushed him back into Killian’s path and Killian grabbed him by the throat with both hands and shoved him up against the nearest wall.
‘I never cheat,’ he hissed. ‘Do you yield?’
McGrath struggled for breath, glaring at Killian with murder in his eyes, but said nothing.
Killian slammed him against the wall once more and tightened his grip on the man’s windpipe. ‘You changed the dice yourself,’ he insisted.
McGrath’s only reply was to try and land a few punches to Killian’s ribs and back, but without enough air, his efforts lacked the necessary strength to do much damage. He soon ran out of breath, his face turning ever more puce. ‘Fine. Let ... me ... go,’ he croaked at last. Killian took his hands away, but just to be on the safe side, he pinned McGrath’s arms to the wall instead.
‘Well?’ he prompted.
‘I said fine,’ McGrath growled. ‘The damned ship is yours. Have someone fetch me a piece of paper. And a quill and ink.’
Killian waited a moment longer, staring McGrath straight in the eyes, then judged it safe to let the man go. He nodded at a nearby servant. ‘You heard the man. Some writing implements if you please.’
The crowd began to disperse and a few of them congratulated Killian on his successful tactics, clapping him on the back. He only nodded his thanks. The entire episode seemed so unnecessary and he certainly hadn’t meant to provide the evening’s entertainment.
While McGrath massaged his bruised throat, Killian and Rory righted the table, then bent down to pick up the coins on Dougie’s lap and some that had scattered onto the floor. A few had probably been lost as they rolled under the feet of the onlookers, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to leave, and fast.
The stench of unwashed bodies, mixed with the acrid smoke from the fire and candles made him gag suddenly. The cheap vinegary wine he’d drunk didn’t help either, and he swore this was the last time he spent an evening in a place like this. There had to be more to life.
He waited while McGrath wrote him a note, ceding all rights to his ship. ‘I need witnesses to my signature,’ the man said, tight-lipped and ungracious, but in control once more. ‘Anyone here who can sign their name?’ Two men came forward and witnessed the deed, then McGrath thrust it at Killian. ‘I hope you get what you deserve on
e day,’ he spat, before storming out, slamming the door behind him.
Killian stared after him for a brief moment, then bent down to pull Dougie off the floor, where he had stayed since sliding off his stool. ‘Rory, help me get this fool out of here. I’ve had enough of this place.’
Rory did his best, but it was mostly Killian who half dragged, half carried his friend out. Relieved to be outside, he drew in huge breaths of the cool night air.
‘I need to get away from here,’ he said to no one in particular.
Rory hiccoughed, then laughed. ‘Well, you can always be a ship’s captain now. When do we sail?’
Chapter Two
Gothenburg, Sweden
Jessamijn van Sandt entered the room which had been her father’s study and her heart contracted painfully. If she closed her eyes, she could picture him sitting there in his quiet haven, greeting her with that beaming smile he reserved just for her. Sadly, he was gone for ever. In his place sat Robert Fergusson, the stepfather she’d never wanted and cared about even less. A man who, in her opinion, didn’t belong there.
The usurper.
‘So you’re back,’ he commented.
Jess only nodded, since he was stating the obvious.
‘I trust you’ve had a nice stay in the country?’ His voice was bland, as if she’d gone away for pleasure instead of being banished at his command nearly a year ago.
Jess had to bite back a sharp reply. His mild expression didn’t fool her for a moment. Instead it reminded her just how precarious her situation was. Robert had ignored the countless letters she’d sent, begging to be allowed to return, but now he’d relented at last. She had no idea why, but was only too aware he could reverse his decision in the blink of an eye if she put so much as a foot wrong.
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