Spotlight ~ The Vicar’s Frozen Heart by Karyn Gerrard #Historical #Victorian #NewRelease #LyricalPress @KarynGerrard

 The Vicar’s Frozen Heart By Karyn Gerrard

Book #2 The Hornsby Brothers
approx 55,000 words


Heat Level: Sensual

Kensington Publishing/Lyrical Press
Release Date: March 1, 2016

NOTE: This is
not an inspirational romance. Heat Level: Very Sensual


His heart begins to heal…

He gave her shelter from the storm, nursed her back to health, just as any good man might do for a damsel in distress. But Tremain Colson is more than just a small town vicar performing a gallant duty. He’s an ex-soldier whose spirit has been ravaged by war, a nobleman hiding his aristocratic heritage. Yet despite his secrets, he cannot help but feel drawn to the fallen beauty and soon asks her to stay and care for the orphan in his charge…

And hers is lost…

Disgrace sent Eliza Winston out into the world, a governess in ruin. But once she finds herself in Tremain’s home—and in his bed—she realizes her handsome rescuer is the one in need of healing. No sooner does Eliza thaw the vicar’s heart than she realizes her own is in danger. For Tremain is not only the man she dreams of marrying, but a blueblood whose noble birth makes him an impossible match…


Eliza’s entire body throbbed with pain. The fall from the carriage no doubt did damage as she’d rolled down a slight embankment, landing in a ditch. That much she did remember. Groaning, she tried to lift her arms. No luck.
The door swung open and banged against the wall, startling her. A tiny squeak escaped her chapped lips. A tall, imposing man, leaning heavily on a cane crossed the threshold. Dressed entirely in black, he hobbled closer to the
bed. All at once she was struck by his austere face. Deep frown lines were etched on either side of his mouth which was turned down in a fierce scowl. Here stood a man the furthest thing from a kind, older grandfather, more like a man of thirty-odd years. He would be considered handsome, she supposed, with his thick, raven-black hair and sculpted cheekbones, but the chilled expression he gave evoked no warmth at all and his silver-gray eyes held the shade of chips of ice from a frozen lake. Rather frightening and much like a stern schoolmaster or unforgiving, sober priest, both of which Eliza had enough of in her life. “You’re awake then?” The words were clipped and precise.
“Tha…thank you, sir,” she croaked. “Your name?”
The cane thumped heavily on the floor as he made his way to stand at her bedside. “Tremain Colson.”
A deep voice, but it held no warmth at all. Well, she was thankful he found her and took her in, but had the distinct feeling she’d be out on her backside as soon as she became mobile. “My trunk?”
“I recovered it about an hour ago. I found you at half past four this morning. It is now three in the afternoon.”
Goodness. She’d slept near around the clock. With great effort, she managed to lift the blankets and peer under them. I’m only wearing my shift. Did this iceberg of a man strip off her clothes and lay his hands on her? “My clothes?”
“I hung them by the fire in the parlor. May I have your name?”
“Eliza…Eliza Winston. Where am I?”
“The village of Hawksgreen. Where were you heading?”
His standing over her should be ominous for he had quite the presence. Yet the fright she experienced initially dissipated even though he continued to act in a grave, unfriendly manner. What a dark, brooding man.
“Dover…I think.”
“Are you in pain?”
Yes, you daft man, I was tossed from a moving carriage. She no longer wished to converse. Instead she gave
him a brisk nod.
“Very well, I will make you a cup of willow bark tea.” He turned on his heel and hobbled out. Eliza admired the view. Well-proportioned with broad shoulders, at least it appeared as such considering he wore wool trousers and a matching coat. The clothes fit him well, the coat hugging a slim waist. He wore no cravat, but the shirt was buttoned up to his neck. Wonder how Mr. Colson injured his leg? He’d grimace in pain as he turned to leave. Even with his disability he brought her and her trunk into his home? Perhaps he also experienced discomfort this day.
Where on God’s Earth was Hawksgreen? She’d never heard of it. A shiver of apprehension ran down her spine. She needed time to construct a sound plan for her future, a plan all the harder to make since she’d been robbed. Not a farthing to her name and she possessed nothing of value to sell. Eliza doubted this man would be empathetic to her plight. Perhaps he had a long-suffering, kindly wife who would take pity on her. Nevertheless, if she must exaggerate her injuries to gain more time, she would.





Amazon/AmazonUK/KOBO/Barnes and Noble/iTunes

Karyn lives in a small town in the western corner of Ontario, Canada. She whiles away her spare time writing and reading romance while drinking copious amounts of Earl Grey tea. A multi-published author, Karyn loves to write historicals, particularly in the Victorian era. She also writes contemporaries. Tortured heroes are a must.

As long as she can avoid being hit by a runaway moose in her wilderness paradise she assumes everything is golden. Karyn’s been happily married for a long time to her own hero. His encouragement keeps her moving forward.

Check out: BOLD SEDUCTION (The Hornsby Brothers #1)

The Hornsby Brothers #1
Karyn Gerrard
Released Sept 1st, 2015
Lyrical Press


No offer is more daring…



 An Intriguing Proposition

Passion. Seduction. Pleasure. These are the qualities of any courtesan worth her salt. As owner of The Starling Club, London’s most notorious house of ill-repute, Madame Philomena McGrattan has seen it all, heard it all, done it all. There is little that surprises her anymore, and even less that excites her. So when she is presented a chance at an irresistible seduction, she can’t help but rise to the challenge.


A Dangerous Game
Studiousness. Practicality. Discipline. Such are the attributes of a good scholar, and such are the principles Lord Spencer Hornsby has built his life around. Alone in the Welsh countryside, with only his wolfhounds for company, Spencer has thrown himself into his work. There is little time for the pleasures of society, not even to think of the joys of the fairer sex. But when an unexpected guest arrives at his isolated hunting lodge, Spencer cannot help but be baffled by the presence of this dangerously beautiful woman. And when he discovers the reason for her arrival, and the pleasures she promises, he cannot help but find himself irresistibly intrigued . . .


Spotlight ~ Scandal at Vauxhall by Layna Pimentel #Regency #NewRelease #Historical #Kindle @LaynaPimentel @LSB_lsbooks

Scandal At Vauxhall
Author Layna Pimentel
Series Pleasure Garden Follies
Book # 1
Genre Historical, Regency
Heat Level 2
Words 31,000
Content Notes Spicy, Regency, Historical
Publication Date 2/1/2016
Price: $4.99

Scandal At Vauxhall is book 1 in Layna Pimentel’s Pleasure Garden Follies series. Full of mystery, gambling, and a love story for the ages, this Regency romance is a wonderful addition to your historical romance library. Find out why scandal has never been sweeter, even when society dictates otherwise!

The love and happiness Isabel Salisbury expected in life when she accepted the proposal of the Marquess of Stoughton takes an unexpected turn, when he leaves on a mission for the war office. She is married off to the Duke of Brimley.

Nathaniel Thompson, the Marquess of Stoughton, is devastated to learn upon his return that Isabel has married the duke. When news of her husband’s death surfaces, Nathaniel sets out to make amends and will stop at nothing until she’s his marchioness.

But when London learns of a promiscuous tryst between them in the Daily, their credibility is at stake. They soon discover that nothing in life is simple, nor private, and all is fair in love and war.

Content Notes: Spicy, Regency, Historical

Available at:

Liquid Silver Books

Amazon stores

All Romance Ebooks


Chapter 1 ~ London, England, 1818

The opulence of Lord and Lady Sinclair’s ballroom borrowed many Italian influences, to the artwork, chandeliers, and even the fabrics selected. Young ladies lined up on the one side as randy gentlemen scouted their amusement for the evening. And yet again, Her Grace, Isabel Griffith, the Duchess of Brimley, attended another high society event sans her duke.

Henry Griffith, the fifth Duke of Brimley, had always been known as a notorious rake, from the countless affairs he’d had with married women and dalliances with some of London’s most sought after courtesans, to coveting another duke’s wife, even after their nuptials.

Some days Isabel wondered if her father even cared that he’d wedded her into what would become a lifeless, loveless, and solitary union. One that benefitted the family name only, but made everyone involved despondent.

If only her family had been patient enough for Nathaniel’s return. She could have married into status as her parents desired, and she’d be happily in love. Isabel often wondered whatever happened to the marquess.

On a night like tonight, however, she was thankful for the lack of her husband’s presence. These types of occasions always put him in a sour mood. He’d wind up playing whist and lose. Then, he’d drink himself into a stupor, drag her away from whatever conversation she was having, take her home and bed her roughly, only to fall asleep before giving her any pleasure in return.

Pfft. What is pleasure anyway? Yet, while she didn’t have much experience in the ways of lovemaking, it was highly unlikely most marriage beds were like hers. Especially during these moments, she wished she had the courage to run.

Is married life supposed to be like this? Leaving me feeling filthy, unworthy, and so lonely? She hadn’t the slightest clue about what she’d ever done wrong, but the pang of regret over not standing up to her husband made her frailer with each passing day.

Distracting her from such sad thoughts, Lady Balfour approached, fanning herself with expediency. “My dear, have you heard? The Marquess of Stoughton has just arrived. My word, he hasn’t aged one bit, and he’s looking quite fit.”

Nathaniel! He’s alive. Isabel’s heart pounded in her chest as her gaze settled on him.

She hadn’t seen him since he’d told her he was leaving on business for the war office. Her pulse kicked up furiously to the point that she felt light-headed and breathless. He was still a sight for sore eyes. His dark hair and piercing blue gaze stood out in the crowd. The sheer breadth of his shoulders framed his muscular size. She watched as he stopped and spoke with other gentlemen, his back now facing her and Lady Balfour.

My God! He really is here. Would he even recognize me? Hardly. He’s probably here to fetch his mistress for the evening. Why would he even pay me any mind? Besides, she was a duchess, very much married, and obliged to keep up appearances.

“My, would you look at the size of his thighs,” Lady Coxley announced as she approached the ladies, garnering a few giggles from prying ears.

Isabel smirked, knowing all too well in what direction this conversation was headed. “They are wonderfully built, but I’m sure some other lady has laid claim on the marquess.”

“You haven’t heard, have you, Isabel?”

“What haven’t I heard?” she asked. Her breath hitched and her pulse raced. What could I have missed?

“Come away with me to the terrace. I wish to speak to you in private. We can’t have half of London listening in.”

She followed Lady Coxley outdoors, leaving behind the sounds of merriment to be embraced by the shrouded darkness of night and silence.

“They say the marquess will not marry until he’s found her.”

“Until he’s found who?”

“The one who broke his heart. But in all honesty, everyone knows it’s you. With any luck, perchance some horrible fate will happen upon Henry.”

If I were only so lucky. “You shouldn’t talk like that! And for the record, the marquess and I were done long ago. Remember, he’s the one who left me.”

“Isabel, you cannot expect me to believe that you haven’t thought about that man—at least once or ever—during the course of this sham of a marriage of yours. The haute ton in its entirety knows where he is right now. And you’d be a fool to think Henry gives two ninnies about your welfare.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted them.

“Excuse me, ladies, but I was wondering if perchance I could steal Her Grace for a dance.”

Good grief. Did he hear any of our discussion? I cannot believe he’s actually here. Heat coursed through Isabel at the thought of holding him once again. She nodded and held out her gloved palm for him to take. “I’d be honored, My Lord.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Grace.”

Leaving behind Lady Coxley, she followed his lead inside for a waltz.

“It’s been too long, Isabel. I’ve missed you terribly,” he whispered as they took a turn about the dance floor. Nathaniel bowed and took her hand. His touch warmed her, and the gentle squeeze that followed reassured her that the flame they once had was still there.

She and Henry hadn’t danced since their wedding and even then, he quickly discarded her to dance with the Duchess of Downsbury. If she’d only known her dismissal that evening would be the first of many others. For the most part, her husband had two left feet, but Nathaniel whisked her away gracefully to the tune. She wished to kiss him again and remind herself of their time together. Good heavens, Isabel. You’re married. Enough of this foolishness!

Isabel felt him pulling her closer as his arm at the small of her back pushed her in. His head dipped down, and, naturally, she looked up at him, ignoring every stare and whisper as they moved together. She finally cringed and mustered the courage to ask him the one thing weighing heavily on her mind. “Why did you take so long? Why didn’t you come sooner? Nathaniel, there hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought of you.”

As the music wound down and the dancers departed, Isabel locked her eyes on his and felt a tear escape. “You’ve been missed greatly, My Lord.”

His thumb swiped away the drop. “My dear, there hasn’t been a day, hour, or dream you haven’t occupied.”

Her chest tightened with his admission. Could he have really wanted me all this time?


Shouting from the foyer bled into the main ballroom as a squire and a number of other gentlemen made their way through. Recognizing one of the men as her footman, Isabel rushed toward him. “Stanley, what is wrong?”

“Your Grace! I’m so glad I found you. The duke…he was caught…something about a duel in Hyde Park.”

Slightly unsteady, she wavered on her feet, only to be caught by the marquess, who approached from behind. “I’m not sure what you mean, Stanley. What exactly was he caught doing?”

The footman lowered his voice to a whisper. “Your Grace, you know—the rumors of your husband’s affair with Her Grace, the Duchess of Downsbury. Well, apparently the duke found them in the duchess’s chambers when he entered to claim his husbandly rights.”

And there it was.

The world seemed to fade away upon hearing his words. However, she had always known of her husband’s infidelities, so she refused to swoon. “Thank you, Stanley. I wish to leave now. I’m sure all of London will know of this by morning, if they haven’t heard by now.” She turned to the marquess. “Thank you for the dance, My Lord. I bid you a good evening.”

With her head held high and her stomach in knots, Isabel departed the ball, fearing what the dawn would bring. Would she wait at home for her husband to stumble back after victory, or would she be delivered the news of his demise? Given the heartache Henry condemned her to, and the embarrassment he’d wreaked on his family name, perhaps she should attend.

Before the door to her carriage closed, she reached for the footman’s hand. “I’d like to stand witness to the duel.”

“But, Your Grace, no lady should view such wicked displays.”

“It couldn’t be any more humiliating than finding out your husband was caught by another. A fellow peer, no less.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Your Grace.”

Her attendance would mean going against all protocol and decorum, but she needed to see it, if for nothing more than closure.

* * * *

Nathaniel wondered what exactly had pulled Her Grace away in a hurry. As he walked around the ballroom, he listened to the whispers until he reached the games room. Lord Broxton waved him over to the whist table. Lords Avonlea and Rutledge cast an amused glance.

Both had gone to Oxford with him and hadn’t spoken to him since his return to London. It was interesting. After his trip from the continent earlier this month, all the ladies still sought him out, but not his friends.

“Come now, Lord Thompson, we still have room for one more, and the betting has just gotten more interesting.”

“How so, Rutledge?” he asked.

“Well, it all started with fifty guineas and you following Her Grace, the Duchess of Brimley, onto the terrace. Fifty guineas gets you in, and another says you’ll bed her before the year is out.”

Nathaniel raised his eyebrows. If he were a gambling man, he’d have played along. But tonight he wasn’t. Something about the way Isabel had been trying to maintain her composure told him that things were going awry one way or another.

“Rutledge, you may bet all you want on what I do in private, but I wager I’ll have my boot so far up your fob arse before the night is out.”

The table broke out into a fit of laughter. “Game on, Thompson. I’m almost certain you’ll lose the bet.”

The cards were dealt and all had played their hands when Lady Rutledge came up behind her husband. “My dear, the most intriguing news. His Grace, the Duke of Brimley, was called out by Downsbury. The duel is at daybreak. Apparently, he caught Brimley with his wife.”

So that was what had her rushing out of here. This didn’t bode well for Isabel. Downsbury was an expert marksman, and Brimley didn’t stand a chance. Isabel could very well be a widow before breakfast, and the thought had to have frightened her. The worst thing about the entire scenario was that he couldn’t offer any assistance until he knew of the outcome. Scandal already sat at her doorway, and it was only a matter of time before all of London heard.

Lord Broxton chuckled and didn’t appear the least bit fazed by the revelation. “I wouldn’t worry about it, my dear. Her Grace, the Duchess, should be happy her tyrannical husband does not stand a chance. And if the rumors are correct, I imagine Downsbury will still remain a cuckold and very much at the center of bets at White’s, as his duchess has been stringing around several lords.”

His wife gasped mockingly then giggled. “Oh my! She has certainly been a busy body, hasn’t she?”

“My dear, if there is nothing else of import, please let us gentlemen return to our game.”

“Certainly, My Lord.” She practically skipped away with the new information to gossip about.

Heartache swelled in Nathaniel’s chest. Lady Broxton’s announcement certainly explained much. Had he not been sent off via the war office’s command, and married poor Isabel as he had intended, he could have spared her this grief and embarrassment.

In fact, he found it quite shocking that society should take so much pleasure in observing and commenting on everyone’s lives as if they were a Greek tragedy or some ridiculous play at the theatre. Mocking and ridiculing, subtle but harsh, ruthless and relentless. The follies of those who took pleasure in another’s misery should be eternally punished.

Nevertheless, the more he pondered on the matter, the more he wanted to see Isabel and lift her spirits. Yet, he could not. She was above his station, and married, no less. It was bad enough his mother had many dinners planned and balls to attend.

The dowager had an agenda of marrying him and his sister off. However, no respectable peer would go near his dear, naïve, imprudent sister. Thus, the future of his family estate was now left entitled to him. To keep the other two women in his life content, in addition to this conundrum, would prove to be his greatest feat ever.

The game of whist lasted all of a half hour when Nathaniel excused himself from the gaming table, only to be met by his mother and sister on his way out.

“Where do you think you’re going, Nathaniel?”

“Nowhere of any import to you, Mama,” he whispered, removing her stiff hand from his wrist.

“Come, dear brother. I shall not be deprived of at least one dance.”

Nathaniel huffed, knowing what they were up to. “I think not. I have something I must do right now.”

“Pish posh, love. White’s is no place for a man in the marriage mart. Lord and Lady Sinclair’s ball is, and you’re leaving far too early!”

“I think not,” he repeated. And without giving either woman a second glance, he abandoned the ball to find out more about Brimley’s dealings with the Duchess of Downsbury.


Find Layna online …

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A Holiday Spotlight ~ The Dukes’ Christmas Abductions by Doris O’Connor & Raven McAllan #Historical #TimeTravel #@MamaD8 @RavenMcAllan

Thanks so much for having the lovely Raven and me on your blog today. You know, we often talked about writing a book together, but that’s as far as it went. Then our reader  group TheRavdorChicks started nagging us—in the nicest possible way of course—that
they would love us to write a story together.
So, after much frantic skype messaging, where we brainstormed ideas, and one very sleepless night from me, when the start of a workable story actually came to me, the idea
was born.
What followed was a fun filled four days with Raven in Scotland, where we put our heads down, fuelled by wine, chocolate, and Gin & Tonics, and our fingers flew.
We had so much fun writing this story I can say this won’t be our last collaboration.  We hope readers will like The Dukes’ Christmas Abductions as much as we loved writing this story.
Much love from both of us!
Stay naughty now, folks.
D & R
Follow your heart and cross space and time…
When Clara lands the job as curator of Faversham House it’s a dream come true. Especially when her favorite Regency Erotica writer Vicky Hopewell shadows her in the run up to the annual estate ball—a tradition left over from Regency times.
The costume ball is always the highlight of the year, but neither woman expects to be confronted by two drop dead gorgeous Dukes.
Daniel Danvers, the Duke of Hockwell thinks Clara is one of the servants invited to the estate ball.
Kit Capel, the Duke of Aulban cannot understand why his wife Victoria acts as though she doesn’t know him.
As both couples slowly come to terms with the reality of their situations, can they find happiness? Is it as simple as following your heart?
Be Warned: bondage, spanking
Buy it from: Evernight  Amazon   Amazon UK   ARe  Bookstrand
Excerpt (18+):
Daniel paused mid swatting the delectable arse in front of him to rub, what must be a considerable ache by now, away. His quarry had stopped screaming for this Vicky, at last, and unless his senses were completely off, she was starting to enjoy his attention. Certainly her breaths were coming in short gasps, and instead of struggling, she was  raising her bottom into every carefully placed swat of his hand.
The evening was definitely looking up. As was his cock, which was in danger of
splitting his evening breeches.
There was one way to find out for sure. Daniel slipped his fingers under the  hideous undergarments, and smirked at the all over body shiver his girl gave. Satisfied
with not only her reaction but also by the wet, hair-free cunt he found, he let his digits linger.
“Oh, god.”
Her breathless moan spurred him on, and he grinned when he found her hidden pearl. She shivered again when he circled the tight nub, and Daniel set up lazy circles, designed to drive any woman wild. This chit proved no exception. The air grew heavy with the musk of aroused woman, and Daniel inhaled deeply, before he stopped the movement.
A strangled groan escaped his girl, and he tapped her arse again, when she tried
to rub her cunt on his fingers.
“Oh, no, you don’t. I want the truth, starting with your name, and maybe then I’ll
let you find release. Only on my say so, though, are we clear here, girl?”
“Fuck, yes … ow.”
Her arse cheeks wobbled most satisfactorily, when he yanked that odd fabric down to her knees, and delivered a few more swats to her delectable arse. The woman had a derriere made for fucking, hips to grab onto while he sunk his cock into her body and claimed what was his. That thought made his head come up. His? He had no business having proprietary thoughts toward a servant like that.
“Fuck, we most certainly will, but not without you telling me who you are, so…” He
delivered another open handed swat across both of her arse cheeks this time, and her answering deep throated moan made him go so hard it was a wonder he hadn’t spilled in his breeches yet.
“Clara, Sir. My name is Clara.”
Daniel slid his fingers through her sodden slit, and flicked her nub once, causing her to give another one of those cock hardening moans.
“Very nice, but the correct address would be my lord, chit, would it not?”
A strangled groan was his response this time, and when he withdrew his fingers
again, she slumped.
“Sorry, My Lord.
The girl, Clara, he mentally amended, had fire, that was for sure, if the intonation she gave his title was anything to go by. A certain amount of boldness was something Daniel certainly appreciated in his bed partners. If Clara was a lady’s maid, she was wasted in that position. As his mistress, however…  His mood improved dramatically
as that thought took hold.
It was Christmas, time to be charitable and all that went with such bounty, and what could be better than elevating this lovely creature from her status of mere servant to his mistress.
Mind thus made up, it was time to taste her nectar and to see if what he was
suspecting would be true. That Clara and he would mesh perfectly in the bedroom, and he could let his darker desires shine through.
He indulged himself by sliding several digits through her wet cunt, lubricating them with her juices, before he slipped one finger into her tight channel, and brought his thumb to press against the puckered hole, guarding that entrance.
Clara stiffened slightly, but she didn’t voice any protest, and when he started to
thrust the finger in her cunt slowly in and out of her, she gasped. Her hips rose in involuntary jerks, which told him how close she already was to exploding under his ministrations. Her untutored responses made him want to hurry this along, but Daniel was never an inconsiderate lover. He would give her several releases before he claimed his own.
“Good girl, and who do you work for?”
Clara moaned and writhed against him, her internal muscles fluttering around his
fingers in rippling moves, which signaled her impending orgasm as clearly as the rosy flush spreading across her skin. So beautifully responsive. She jerked when he tapped her nub, and then withdrew his hand.
“Faversham Estate. Oh god, please, My Lord … I.” The rest of her pretty little plea was lost in a screech as he swung her off his lap and onto his bed.  Her breasts bounced most satisfactorily, and her lovely almond shaped green eyes widened further when he crawled onto the bed with her, and straddled her midriff. Daniel grasped her arms and brought them high above her head. The action made her breasts rise up in silent offering, and Daniel smirked.
“Hmm, that would mean you work for me. How delightful. Whatever position you hold here, I much prefer you in this one, unable to move and at my mercy. I’m going to tie your wrists together and tether you to one of the posts, sweet Clara. Is that acceptable to you?”
About the Authors:
Doris O’Connor
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get.  From contemporary to paranormal, Time Travel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.
Stalk her in these places
Raven McAllan
Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband—their children having flown the
nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research
for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she’s strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.
She admits she’s  no domestic goddess, and wonders why tourists think she might run the local bed and breakfast. She doesn’t.
Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.
Stalk her in these places

Interview with Shadowed by Sin author Layna Pimentel #Historical #Suspense #Gothic #Romance @LaynaPimentel @LSB_lsbooks


What inspired you to write your first book?
After getting swept up by the likes of Sherrilyn Kenyon and Kelley Armstrong, I really thought I could do this. Six years later, here I am. The rest is history.

If you could choose, which published author would you like to develop and write a story with and why?
Oooh! There’s too many, but given I’ve rediscovered my love for spooky things, I’d love to write another Gothic, and maybe collaborate with Lauren Smith.

When choosing the title for your book(s) do you have a process or wing it?
My titles are born at the same time the idea for the book is developed. Sometimes even before that. I guess I’m weird.

What was the hardest part in writing your book(s)?
One of the things I struggle with is getting into a guy’s head. There are times when I ask my husband questions, and he’ll look at me funny. At that point I, of all people, get embarrassed and take my questions to Google.

Do you ever use someone in your life as a sounding board for ideas or are you a lone wolf?
I have a little group that I confer with, but most of the time I hit up my close author friends and critique partners when i get stuck. There’s also my street team when I need to run an idea by them.

Did you learn anything while writing your book(s)?
In writing Shadowed By Sin, I realized how much I missed murder mysteries.

How many books have you written?
I’ve written at least 22 books, of which 6 are currently available, and 2 to be re-released in the near future.

Do you have a particular favorite?
Aside from Shadowed By Sin, A Sinful Education is right up there with being my favorite.

When you were little, did you ever think you’d be a published author? What else did you want to be?
No, not in the least. The writing bug didn’t hit me until my teens. When I was younger I wanted to be an Archaeologist or Paleontologist.

What was the worst job you ever had while working towards being a published author?
I don’t think I’ve ever had one. I’ve been at the same job for 8 yrs and I love working there too.

What advice would you give to a new author?
Don’t rush a good thing. Learning everything you can about your genre, and take your time. Perfection doesn’t happen overnight, and neither does success.


Released in eBook on August 17th, 2015
Liquid Silver Books
Novella – 83 pages
Historical Romantic Suspense/Gothic Romance
ISBN: 978-1-62210-245-7

Every man has a price…

As Lord Benedict St. John and his fiancée prepare to marry, his family is blackmailed by a former acquaintance. Hoping to set things straight, he accepts an invitation to dine at the blackmailer’s family estate.

But how many should die…

Estelle agrees to accompany Benedict, but nothing prepares her for the mysteries and bodies she stumbles across during her time at Hawthorne Hall.

Before the shocking truth is exposed?

Hawthorne Hall holds many secrets, but will Estelle and Benedict escape to see the day their union is blessed, or will they succumb to an untimely end?

Read an Excerpt


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Masquerade by Victoria Vale #BookTour #Giveaway #Regency @LoveBitesSilk @EroticabyVicki

 Masquerade by Victoria Vale

Genre: Erotic, Historical Romance, Regency


Top Ten Facts About Life in the Regency Era

The Regency era has long been romanticized in film, TV, and literature, and with good reason. The period is rich is culture, and the decadent lives of the London ton are fascinating to those of us who are addicted to all things Regency. Here are my top ten facts about the era we all love, and think we know—yet there always seems to be something new to learn about it.

  1. If you’ve ever wondered why in a Regency novel your hero and heroine can carry on an entire conversation during a dance … well, that’s because dances lasted a long time! This was a wonderful way to engage in conversation, which could be helpful if you were scoping out potential mates. A pair of country dances lasted half an hour, so if a gentleman signed you card for a set, you’d have him in your clutches for thirty whole minutes!
  2. While romance novels give their hero and heroine a lot of leeway—how else could they get together for those sweet little trysts—courtship was actually very strict in the Regency era. So much so that a man was no even allowed to call the woman he was courting by her first name. Perhaps he could after they were engaged, but a courting pair must refer to each other formally—by title, or for those without titles ‘Mr.’ and ‘Miss’.
  3. Ever read about a Regency hero who has been educated at Cambridge or Oxford? It’s the standard, especially for a first son set to inherit his father’s title someday. What many don’t know is that young men were sent to university for reasons other than receiving an education. The primary purpose of going to university was to make connections with other young men, who could prove your political or social allies in adulthood. Education was important, but still secondary to this goal.
  4. While many of the ‘scandals’ you read about in Regency romances can border on the outlandish, in reality, it took very little to ruin a young woman’s reputation. Thus the reason they were always monitored and chaperoned so closely. A chaste kiss is nothing by today’s standards, but in the Regency era, it would have been enough to force a couple into marriage if they were caught.
  5. Unmarried ladies during these times knew virtually nothing about the act of sex until the night before the wedding. Young debutantes on the marriage mart were kept in the dark concerning intercourse, and if her mother felt particularly squeamish about discussing the act, the poor thing might go to her marriage bed with nothing more than this unhelpful advice: “Just close your eyes and think of England”!
  6. While the Regency era was all about rules and propriety, almost anything was overlooked as long as ‘discretion’ was used. Even a woman could have her share of fun … so long as she was married and had given her husband and heir. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon for a married woman to be escorted about in public by a man who was not her husband. It might even be common knowledge among her peers that she indulged in an affair with him. As long as she was discreet and had done her duty by her husband, her peers would look the other way.
  7. Mean Girls has nothing on the women of the Regency era. Because Regency era life could be so boring, gossip was a legitimate form of entertainment among the people of the ton. When someone was indiscreet, or did something that others perceived to be unseemly, their reputations could literally be ruined. The ton could be a vicious animal, loving its members one day, and tearing them to shreds the next over what we might think of as the tiniest things. Giving someone the ‘cut direct’ in public was one of the worst things you could do.
  8. It didn’t matter how rich you were, absolutely EVERYTHING was about bloodline. Even if your estate had been exhausted and you had squandered every penny, your name still carried more weight than a merchant who was rolling in cash. Titles were passed down from father to son, and the older your bloodline and wealth, the higher your standing in society. Your money might buy entrée into society, but you would always reek of ‘new money’ among the people of the ton.
  9. Women weren’t the only ones who wore corsets. Men’s fashion was just as important as women’s’, and if you didn’t have the figure for the style of clothing that was popular at the time you could always manufacture one. Padding for shoulders and thighs were not uncommon, and a portly man could cinch his waist with a corset. Of course, a Regency romance hero always fills out his coat and breeches without the assistance of padding or stays!
  10. Beauty could only get you so far on the marriage mart. Of course it helped if you were a diamond of the first water. However, a plain Jane with a large dowry was far more attractive to potential husbands—especially the ones who needed to marry for the sake of money.

Margaret Seymour is bored by the stifling constraints of society dictating her behavior as a debutante in search of a husband. Her prospects are promising by the standards of London society, yet, not one of them causes her heart to flutter, or her head to fill with scintillating, forbidden fantasies. Those feelings are reserved for Camden Rycroft, Duke of Avonleah—a man who isn’t even aware of her existence.

While attending a scandalous Vauxhall Gardens masquerade, Margaret finds herself in the duke’s arms. His promise of a night of pleasure is tempting, but is it worth it when Avonleah is a known rake notorious for his short attention span and avoidance of marriage?

Camden Rycroft is intrigued by the masked vixen he encounters in the Gardens. After one night with her leaves him hungry for more, his desire for her turns into a fiery obsession. Despite the scandal that could ensue from their affair, he finds himself unable to extract himself from a situation destined to end in pain. When faced with losing Margaret to a potential husband, will he rise to the occasion, or risk living without her?





“You must know how many hearts you’ve stolen just by walking into a room. Many a night, I have watched you take a lady into your arms to waltz with her and wished I could be her. To be so close to you, moving together … to know your scent and your touch …” She paused, realizing she’d said far too much.

Camden circled behind her, placing his hands upon her shoulders. His lips brushed the back of her neck and she shivered.

“I cannot deny knowing you have watched me from afar all this time does not bring me pleasure, Maggie,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path toward her ear. “When you watched me with those women, did you wonder if there was more to our association than a simple waltz would suggest?”

She nodded in response, unable to speak when he nibbled on her neck, teasing the most deliciously sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

“You wondered if any of them would accompany me home, didn’t you? You thought about what I did to them.”

She groaned as he took the shell of her ear between his teeth.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I did.”

“How did you feel when you thought about it—when you imagined all the wicked things I did to those other ladies?”

His hands worked at the buttons running down her back, sliding them loose one by one, opening her gown.

“Jealous,” she admitted.

He gripped the sleeves of her gown and pulled, lowering it to the floor to pool around her feet. His hands took her waist and he pulled her against him, his lips trailing along her shoulder.

“Did you fantasize about me, Maggie? Did you wonder what it would be like to be one of them?”

“I did,” she said, her voice low and husky. “At night, alone in my bed, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it was like to be with you.”

“Oh, Maggie,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement and mock horror. “Never say you were ever so naughty.”

She giggled, bit her lower lip, and leaned back against him, resting her head on his chest. “I was.”

“You touched yourself when you thought about me, didn’t you?” One of his hands slid across her stomach, lowering slowly toward the apex of her thighs. “Did you pleasure yourself to fantasies of me?”

He cupped her mons, his fingers massaging gently and drawing moisture from her core.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice strained as he continued to tease her. “Yes, I did.”

“Show me,” he whispered, removing his hand.

She groaned in agitation, wishing for his touch again. Yet, he seemed to be waiting for her to fulfill his command.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself, Maggie,” he said, his voice a bit rougher this time—a demand she dared not refuse. Not if she wished for more of the pleasure he could give her.


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Victoria Vale has written over two dozens Romance and Young Adult novels under various pseudonyms. As a lover of erotic romance, she enjoys nothing more than a sexy hero paired with a sassy heroine, flavored with a dash of spice and lots of heat. A wife and mother of three, she enjoys reading (of course), cooking, sewing … and other activities that aren’t appropriate for inclusion in a biography.


Excerpt from Masquerade by Victoria Vale #Regency #Erotic #Review @eroticabyvicki



Title: Masquerade

Series: Book #1 in the Scandalous Ballroom Encounters series

Author: Victoria Vale

Release date: February 14, 2015

Genre: Regency era Erotic Romance

Formats: e-book only (Coming soon in audio)


Blurb: Scandalous Ballroom Encounters is a series of erotic romances set against the dazzling, opulent backdrop of the Regency era in London, England. Lords and Ladies were expected to behave with propriety during those times … but what happened behind closed doors, when no one could witness the debauched and lusty encounters between members of the nobility? Masquerade400x600

Margaret Seymour is bored by the stifling constraints of society dictating her behavior as a debutante in search of a husband. Her prospects are promising by the standards of London society, yet, not one of them causes her heart to flutter, or her head to fill with scintillating, forbidden fantasies. Those feelings are reserved for Camden Rycroft, Duke of Avonleah—a man who isn’t even aware of her existence.

While attending a scandalous Vauxhall Gardens masquerade, Margaret finds herself in the duke’s arms. His promise of a night of pleasure is tempting, but is it worth it when Avonleah is a known rake notorious for his short attention span and avoidance of marriage?

Camden Rycroft is intrigued by the masked vixen he encounters in the Gardens. After one night with her leaves him hungry for more, his desire for her turns into a fiery obsession. Despite the scandal that could ensue from their affair, he finds himself unable to extract himself from a situation destined to end in pain. When faced with losing Margaret to a potential husband, will he rise to the occasion, or risk living without her?

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When he turned to face her, he was confronted by her back. She’d turned away from him, pretending to inspect an ornate vase set upon a table that was a work of art in and of itself. The arrangement of flowers bursting from the top of it were lovely, but hardly worthy of her intense scrutiny. Camden grinned as he approached. She was trying to avoid conversation with him.

“Well, well,” he murmured, pausing just before the toes of his evening shoes touched the hem of her gown. “Miss Margaret Seymour, we meet at last.”

She tensed, her back going stiff. “Your Grace—”

“Camden,” he insisted, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

Your Grace,” she rasped through gritted teeth. “Please, this is quite unseemly.”

He stole a glance over his shoulder to ensure they went unseen. His broad shoulders all but shielded her from the rest of the room, and the others were too entrenched in their own conversations to notice them. He brought his hand up, allowing his fingers to trail from the nape of her neck, down to where her dress began, then further, tracing the row of tiny buttons running down the back of the garment.

“My name, love,” he murmured, his eyes fixating on the curve of her neck and almost-bare shoulders. “I want to hear you say it again, as you did the night we were together. You whispered it when I teased your perfect tits with my tongue. You moaned it when I tasted your sweet little cunt. You screamed it when I fucked you.”

She shivered as he shifted, just a bit closer. So close now, that his breath rustled the stray hairs caressing the back of her neck. Her shudder caused his cock to pulsate with painful insistence. The thrill of being near her again overcame his good sense and he lowered his head toward her, his lips brushing the back of her neck.

“Camden,” she mewled, swaying back toward him. The swell of her ass brushed against his crotch, almost crippling him.

He gritted his teeth and moved until he was beside of her and fought against the erection begging to be sheathed. “That’s better,” he growled. “Now, what have you done to yourself?” He pretended to inspect the arrangement as well, but studied her in his peripheral vision. Her milky white and pale green gown was lovely, yet hardly did her justice; not as the scarlet getup she’d worn to the masquerade had.

She frowned, turning her head a tick and spearing him with a confused glance. “I beg your pardon?”

“What happened to the vivacious little vixen I spent the night with?” he demanded, his voice raising a bit. “The one who waltzed with me beneath the stars and kissed me so boldly in public? The one who gave me one of the best nights of my life before running out in the morning without a nary a good-bye? What have you done with her?”

She squared her shoulders, avoiding his gaze once more. “You are mistaken if you believe the woman you met is the woman I truly am. I wore more than one mask that night, Camden. This is who I am. Miss Margaret Seymour, daughter of Baron Lisbroke and Lady Seymour. Prim and proper lady. For God’s sake, I am not even allowed to waltz in public yet.”

Camden heard the derision in her tone. The woman she claimed to be was not who she truly wished to be, that much was clear. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “I believe this mask—the one you wear now—is the true façade. It is no wonder I never noticed you. How could I, when you’ve hidden your true self away?”

She lowered her eyes to the carpet, though her shoulders remained squared, her head erect. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the ton isn’t exactly forgiving toward women who step outside the dictates of society—especially when one is not of high rank like, say, a duchess.”

He frowned at that. Damn her, she was right and now he felt like a bloody fool for the things he’d said. Of course she played the role of the biddable daughter and debutante. She could never make a good match otherwise. Although, now, if she did make a good match she’d have the devil of a time explaining her lack of virginity. While many women of the ton were familiar with ways of tricking their bridegrooms into believing they’d deflowered a virgin, Maggie did not seem the type to stoop to deceit.

Her dilemma wasn’t his concern. Not when she’d assured him that a night with him had been her deepest desire. If Cranfield was too dense to know the difference between a real maidenhead and a false one, then the man deserved what he got.

“Meet me tonight,” he whispered, ensuring once more that they went unheard. “You can be yourself with me, you know that.”

“I cannot,” she said. “The first time was a risk. To do it again would be …”

“The fulfillment of your wildest dreams,” he said, when she’d trailed off. “You confessed as much to me, remember? However, you did not allow me to prove my prowess beyond the one time we made love. Don’t you want to know what it’s like to straddle me and ride my cock? Or to rest on your hands and knees while I fuck you from behind, giving me the perfect view of that pretty little backside?”

She bit her lower lip and her eyes slid closed. “Camden, please.”

“Yes,” he murmured, “there will be plenty of that. Yes, Camden. Please, Camden. More, Camden. You want it, Maggie, and so do I. Come to me tonight.”

Her eyes flew open, darting as she seemed to think over his proposal. He held his breath. She was on the verge of capitulating, he could feel it.

“You can spend the rest of your life as a stuffy, boring, married lady if that’s what you wish,” he continued. “But before then, you should know what true pleasure is. Do something for yourself, something you truly want, before you’re forced to bend to duty.”

A breath of a moment passed between them before she replied. Her answer was a whispered, tortured sound. “Yes. I want that.”

He grinned. “Good girl.”


About the author:
Victoria Vale has written over two dozen Romance and Young Adult novels under various pseudonyms. As a lover of erotic romance, she enjoys nothing more than a sexy hero paired with a sassy heroine, flavored with a dash of spice and lots of heat. A wife and mother of three, she enjoys reading (of course), cooking, sewing … and other activities that aren’t appropriate for inclusion in a biography.

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My Review:

5 Stars!
I really enjoyed the first book in the Scandalous Ballroom Encounter Series. It is a bold and thrilling tale of finding one’s own way through life and not allowing anyone to make decisions for them. Maggie is a fierce and sassy heroine I liked a lot. Camden endeared himself to me with his rakish and charming ways. I loved these characters together, the smoldering passion that leaped off the pages and the excitement that there will be more to this series soon!!

Pleasure Garden Follies 2: A Sinful Education by Layna Pimentel #Historical #Regency @LaynaPimentel

laynapWho knew an unconventional education could be so sinfully exquisite.

Title: A Sinful Education
Series: Pleasure Garden Follies, Book #2
Author: Layna Pimentel
Genre: Historical Romance, Regency

Lord Charles Avonlea has evaded marriage over the last year, but his mother is asinfuleducation_meddetermined to find him a wife. Far from consenting to any of her choices, he sets his sights on the one woman unavailable to him, his best friend’s younger sister. With no regard for the law or her impending nuptials, he is determined to make Lady Emily Thompson his bride. The only trouble is, he’s stumbled upon dangerous information and hopes he can get to her before it’s too late.

Stunned and dismayed at discovering the arrangement between her mother and the Duke of Downsbury, Lady Emily Thompson searches for a way to break the marriage pact with the duke. She longs to be with the only man who indulges her curiosity, yet finds herself in the middle of a scandal that will crush her dreams forever.

Will she find a way out of marrying the duke, or will she find herself in the same predicament as the previous duchess? Which was dead.



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