The Demon Duke
Page 25
Convinced he's at fault for the death of his wife, Deveric Mattersley has no interest in women, much less marriage. Determined to atone for his sins, he decrees himself content to focus on running his family’s estates, and on raising his son–until the mysterious Mrs. James appears. Who is she? What does she want? And why does she make Dev’s blood run hot in a way no woman ever has?
A charming time-travel Regency romance full of wit and humor, A Matter of Time reminds us that, like books, you can't judge people by their covers, and that love often comes when least expected.
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An excerpt from A Matter of Time:
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January 1st, 2012. Or not.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman who’s just traveled across an ocean and back two hundred years in time might find herself in a bit of a pickle. Unless that woman discovers herself to be trapped in the arms of a man in possession of a good fortune … and in want of a wife.
Eliza blinked her eyes as that corny perversion of Jane Austen’s opening line to Pride and Prejudice flitted through her mind. She looked down at the man in whose arms she was awkwardly wedged. He was half-sitting, half-leaning on a settee sofa, out cold. His arms, however, held her firmly, and even as she attempted to shift to survey her surroundings, he clutched her to him. His warmth and size enveloped her, a strange energy humming between them.
Peeking out over her left shoulder, Eliza could see she was in a library of some sort. Not a public library, but rather an old-fashioned personal library, like the ones she always read about in her novels. Built-in bookcases lined the two walls, filled with volumes of books in antique-style bindings— only in pristine condition. A fireplace separated the shelves on one wall, and a large portrait of an older gentleman in a white curly wig hung on the oak panels over it.
Turning to the right, she lifted her head a bit in order to see over the back of the sofa. A large, heavy, ornately carved desk, which was covered with papers, sat near a back wall containing more bookcases. A real inkstand rested on top of the desk, and next to it, several quill pens. An old clock ticked forlornly from the wall behind the desk. She couldn’t see the entryway into the room— it must be behind her— but the distant strains of a violin and the low murmurings of conversation drifted in from somewhere close by.
She closed her eyes. If the furnishings were any indication, she was in Regency England. For real. It’d worked. It had actually worked.
The man shifted beneath her, but didn’t relax his grip. Eliza’s eyes flew open again as the enormity of the situation hit her. She was trapped in the arms of a duke. A duke her friend Cat created for her. An authentic Regency duke.
A SCANDALOUS MATTER
MAGIC of LOVE Book 3
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Revel in the magic again in A Scandalous Matter, Amara and Matthew’s story.
The Past Is Always Present
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What if your soul mate doesn’t want happily ever after?
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Independent, spirited Amara Mattersley may live under scandal's shadow, but at least the nineteenth-century Regency society judging her is familiar. That’s all about to change when she finds herself in twenty-first-century Charlottesville, Virginia—and locking horns with one very befuddling, very male, UVA professor.
Computer science professor Matthew Goodson has no time for love—no time for anything, actually, but his quest for tenure and his obsession with the screen. The last thing he expects is to get side-swiped by this adorably odd British miss. Yet something in her calls to him, pulls at him, in a way unknown—and uncomfortable.
Can the past and the present blend together into a mutual future? Or will old wounds and new complications sabotage any chance at a twenty-first century happily ever after?
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An excerpt from A Scandalous Matter:
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He held up a hand to quiet her as he strode toward the left side of the room, the side from which the noise had come. As he neared the Romance section, he could swear he heard scuffling, then a low moan. A low, female-sounding moan.
Rounding the corner, he stopped short at the sight of a young woman sitting on the floor, cradling her head. She wore a long white dress, a maxi dress, his sister Taylor would call it, with some sort of short red jacket over it, and she had a bonnet— a bonnet, of all things— on her head.
He frowned. What was going on? Some sort of cosplay gone bad? His brow furrowed as he studied the woman. A second moan knocked him out of his reverie, and he rushed to her side.
“Are you okay?” He’d figure out why and how she’d gotten here later; for now, he needed to ensure she was all right. His EMT training never fully left him, though he hadn’t gone on runs in years. He crouched down next to her and reached for her hand to pull it away from her head. At his touch, the woman yelped and yanked her hand back. She looked up, affording him his first full view of her face.
My God, she’s stunning. A pair of hazel-green eyes peered out of a face that was both delicate and strong at the same time. Her curvaceous lips flattened into a line as her eyes widened. But there was no doubt about it, this was one gorgeous woman.
She shook her head, then glanced wildly about the room, her eyes darting to and fro before settling on him again. The panic in them made him want to reach for her, but at that moment, Cat approached from behind him.
“What’s going—” She broke off as Matt stood and moved to the side so she could see the newcomer. Cat’s hand flew to her mouth before she dropped it and pasted an unnatural- looking smile on her face. “Amara?” she said, taking a step closer to the woman.
The bonnet wielder’s eyes flew open even wider, a feat he wouldn’t have thought possible. She gave a nod. “Miss Schreiber?”
Huh. A British accent. He hadn’t expected that. Maybe it was part of the role.
Cat nodded enthusiastically, crouching down by the woman. “Yes! It’s Mrs. Cooper now, but please call me Cat. I’m so glad you’re here. I know you must be—” She broke off and glanced up at Matt. “I know you must be overwhelmed, Cousin Amara. We have much to talk about. But first,” she gestured toward him, “you must meet Matthew Goodson. This is he.”
Something in the way Cat spoke caught Matt’s attention. Why had she emphasized his name in such a weird way? Why wasn’t she wigging out that this woman, whom Matt would swear was not here before, was sitting on the floor in the middle of the bookstore? The store had been closed for more than an hour. Had this Amara person been in the room the whole time, and he hadn’t noticed?
It wasn’t entirely implausible. His family teased him that when his face was in a screen, the rest of the world didn’t exist. “And your face is always in a screen,” Taylor claimed. “You’re such a geek, Matty. An adorable geek, but a geek nonetheless. Come up for air sometime!”
“Well—” he started to say, wanting to return to Ben and his food. He wasn’t needed here; the two women knew each other. Though at least one of them wasn’t acting like it. In spite of them being related?
Something was off.
Acknowledgments
“Appreciate good people. They are hard to come by.”
- Unknown
I am blessed beyond belief to have such great people to work with and cheer me on. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
To the Shenandoah Valley Writers Critique Group for their support and suggestions, as always.
To beta readers Phyllis A. Duncan, Josette Keelor, Annette Will, and Helen Wirka for their wonderful feedback.
To Kary Phillips, for her brilliant editing and proofing skills. And her affection for the Marquess of Emerlin.
To my amazing editor, Tessa Shapcott, who takes my messy slab of clay and helps me fashion something beautiful (or at least readable!) out of it.
To Joy Lankshear of Lankshear Design, for this gorgeous book cover. I could stare at it all day.
To Emily June Street, for working her formatting magic – sh
e is a wizard, y’all!
To RWA’s Beau Monde, for constantly offering helpful answers to my many naïve questions. I quest to get it right, but of course any errors remain my own.
To my kids, for putting up with mom working—again.
And to Brett. Because “you gave me you. You gave me love. You gave me the power and freedom to make my own choices. And that’s all I ever want.”
About the Author
Don’t tell her mom, but Margaret Locke started reading romance at the age of ten. She’d worked her way through all of the children’s books available in the local bookmobile, so turned to the adult section, where she spied a book with a woman in a flowing green dress on the cover. The back said something about a pirate. She was hooked (and still wishes she could remember the name of that fateful book!).
Her delight in witty repartee between hero and heroine, in the age-old dance of attraction vs. resistance, in the emotional satisfaction of a cleverly achieved Happily Ever After followed her through high school, college, even grad school. But it wasn’t until she turned forty that she finally made good on her teenage vow to write said novels, not merely read them.
Margaret lives in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley in Virginia with her fantastic husband, two fabulous kids, and three fat cats. You can usually find her in front of some sort of screen (electronic or window); she’s come to terms with the fact that she’s not an outdoors person.
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Thank You For Reading
What did you think of The Demon Duke?
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Would you kindly consider leaving a review on your favorite book review site?
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Thanks so much!
- Margaret
THE DEMON DUKE
Copyright © Anne Tjaden, 2017
Locked On Love, publisher, Harrisonburg, VA
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ISBN: 978-0-9963170-7-8, Electronic Book Text
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Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part, by any means, is forbidden without permission from the author/ publisher.
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Cover designs by Lankshear Design
www.lanksheardesign.com
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Edited by Tessa Shapcott
www.tessashapcott.com
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Formatting by Emily June Street for Luminous Creatures Press
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit this book or portions thereof in any form or by any means whatsoever.
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Manufactured in the United States of America