Check out one of my more popular books, Temptation in Tartan. This book sat at #1 on its list at All
Romance Ebooks for a week! If you’re intrigued by the idea of sexy vampires in
kilts, this is the book for you! Here’s a snippet to sharpen your appetite:
Stop! You
cry. What’s it about?
Okay—here’s the blurbage:
She
had to marry a monster…
Rumors
had followed the chieftains of Clan Kilborn for centuries. Said to be descended
from the Viking Berserkers, they were ferocious in battle, known for tearing
off the heads of their enemies and drinking their blood.
But
English noblewoman Lydia Swann Williston would marry Kieran, Laird Kilborn, to
bring peace to the Kilborn lands after the horror of Culloden and the brutal
pacification. A widow, she also brought needed wealth to Clan Kilborn. For her
part, eighteen-year-old Lydia wanted children. With her husband killed at
Culloden, she would make a new life in the Highlands.
The
old chieftain of Clan Kilborn also died in battle, and she hoped that the new
young Laird would lack his ancestors' ferocity.
She
was wrong.
And now, here’s the excerpt:
Edinburgh, 1747
The dark, mysterious stranger
took Lydia’s free hand and led her into the garden surrounding the Menhardie
mansion. The broad summer moon cast shadows that shifted with the breeze, so
she could see little but could scent much—the fragrance of plants and newly
turned earth, the attar of roses she’d touched to her pulse points and,
daringly, between her breasts. Most of all, she drew in the male aroma of the
stranger who’d taken possession of her hand, a scent reminiscent of midnight
and secret longings.
He led her deeper into the knot
garden. Trees, swishing in the breeze, blocked the manse from her view. She
inhaled sharply, realizing she’d walked willingly, alone, with a man she knew
nothing about, into what was not only a compromising position but possibly a
dangerous one.
As though he sensed her fear, he
released her hand. “Would ye wish to sit?” He waved his hand at a stone bench.
She touched it with a forefinger.
Moisture seeped through her glove.
“Dinnae fash yerself.” The
stranger sat and held out his arms. “Come here.”
She hesitated. “I’m affianced.
‘Twould offend my new husband.”
“No one can see us, and I’m just
asking ye to sit.” His gaze was not merely open and guileless, but oddly
compelling.
He seemed so kind, and her
worries so silly, that she complied, moving closer. He reached for her waist to
help her arrange her skirts and panniers. Finally she’d settled onto his lap,
sitting crossways so she was looking at his chiseled features, distinct in the
moonlight, as pale as new milk.
A strange energy thrummed through
her body. She was acutely aware of the firm, muscular thighs beneath her, for
she had never sat on a man’s lap before. Neither her father nor her husband had
asked for or taken this intimacy. Did she like it? She wasn’t sure and became
even less sure when the stranger, who had one arm touching her waist already,
slid his other wide palm up her calf toward her knee.
Though his touch sent a tremor of
desire shafting through her being, it unnerved her even more. She squirmed but
he held her fast.
“Lassie, what worries ye?”
“You are taking liberties, sir,
and we…haven’t been introduced.” What a stupid thing to have said. He must
think her a fool. But what did it matter? She’d never see him again.
He chuckled. “Let’s just say that
I’m a man who finds you quite alluring.”
Alluring. Lydia blinked. William
had never said that.
“Remember, I’m affianced.”
“Ye’re here with me. Do ye love
him?”
She cleared her throat. “We’ve
never met.”
“Then ye’re sharing a stolen
moment with a man you…dare I say a man you like?” He flirted, but his voice
held a dark timbre that seduced her soul. And yet a note of humor, kindness
even, tinctured his tone.
She hesitated, then looked into
his eyes and was immediately calmed. She said, “Yes. You may dare.”
“And what else may I dare?” The
hand on her leg rose to her face to play with a curl, stroke her cheek. She
quivered and her breasts swelled, her nipples rubbing against the lawn of her
shift. Flesh for which she had no words, the secret place at the junction of
her thighs, heated, tightened, moistened.
She shifted on his lap, opening
her legs and leaning forward a trifle, and that sensitive, secret spot rubbed
against his leg, bringing a charge of pleasure she hadn’t known before. She hid
her gasp behind her fan.
He smiled at her, his eyes
knowing… Did he understand how powerfully he affected her?
This was wrong, wrong. She had to
stop.
“Your eyes are warm chocolate on
a chilly day.” His voice was as soft as the breeze, as soft as his caress down
her cheek to her mouth, which he traced. “Your lips are a temptation that I
cannae resist.”
“You presume much, sir.”
“Aye, I do, but I feel I know
your heart.”
If he knew her heart, then he
knew it beat faster than a racing stallion’s hooves.
He inclined his head toward her.
His lips were carved marble in the moon’s silver rays. “Ye desire me, do ye
not?”
“Desire isn’t enough.” She’d desired
William, and her marriage bed had been either empty of her husband or the scene
of brief trysts devoid of pleasure. She wouldn’t be seduced by a handsome
stranger. What for?
“Please.” He asked, but then he
took. His mouth felt cool on hers but with a touch of fire beneath. That fire
raced through her, igniting parts of her she hadn’t known could feel such heat,
such rapture. She gasped again from sheer surprise, and something intruded
between her lips… Before heaven, was that his tongue?
No, Lydia thought. This isn’t me.
She reached for his wrist to
slide her fingers toward his elbow. She wrapped her hand around his arm and dug
her thumb into the muscle just in front of the joint.
He yelped and jerked away,
dumping her off his lap. She landed gracefully, stood and stepped back a pace.
“Good,” she said. “I must have
hit just the right spot.”
His eyes were amazed. “Where did
a lady like ye learn such a trick?”
“My brother taught me.” She
couldn’t help shooting him a triumphant smile as she tucked her fan into her
reticule.
He shouted with laughter. “Ye’ll
do, yes, ye will! Ye’ll make a fine wife.”
“I beg your pardon?” she said
stiffly.
He grinned at her. “I’m Kieran.”
She gaped at him.
“Kieran Kilborn,” he added
helpfully. “The man ye’ll marry.”
*****
There's more, of course...a lot more! If you like what you read, buy it here in digital: http://www.ellorascave.com/temptation-in-tartan.html
*****
About the
author:
Best-selling, award-winning author Suz
deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written
seventeen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy,
historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories
and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s held the positions
of managing editor and senior editor, working for such firms Total-E-Bound,
Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press. She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and
Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several
bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US
over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now
writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
find Suzie’s books here:
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