Author: Rue Allyn Page 3 of 16

Dear Readers,

Today we bring you evidence, written in the hand of Lady Aileana MacDonald, that all was not always well between clans MacLeod and MacDonald. This report, found in an old trunk provides a fascinating look into the past of Scotland.

My sister-in-law, Lady Brighde, has fallen in love with our clan’s gravest enemy, Tormund MacLeod, the Demon of the Seas! A secret she has begged me to keep, for her brother who is my husband, Jamie, would never approve. I just caught them nuzzling each other, except… Tormund wasn’t the monster We’ve always thought, but gentle. They were teasing each other secretively, laughing. The fearsome demon can laugh? Can smile?

Now Tormund has stripped his tunic and is lumbering onto the field to compete in the corn cutting, joining Jamie and the other lairds, and sakes, it seems as if the royal seneschal has…paired the two together? Every year enemies are paired to clear the barley fields, in attempts to force them to work together and broker truces betwixt them—for the winners split the harvest to take home to their people. But have there ever been greater enemies than Tormund, the Demon of the Seas and Jamie, the Devil MacDonald? The blood feud betwixt them spans generations!

Yet I can see the verra stars of heaven blooming in Brighde’s bonny blue eyes as she watches him and he, her, like a hawk tracking its quarry. And Brighde seems so…happy. Of course, she’s always happy. But oft I fear her smile is a mask that hides deeper wounds. Yet as Tormund, all muscle, dark braid woven down the crest of his shaved head, and his body adorned with tattoos, casts his battle-hardened glances at her I realize I see…fondness returned. Tenderness? From a demon?

Sakes, she even wears his talon necklace about her throat. She is too far smitten and I fear, so is he—

Nay, what is this!

Jamie is confronting Tormund! They’re…arguing! Goodness, knives are unsheathing! Brighde is fretting beside me, twisting her necklace about her finger, for it’s clear Jamie is antagonizing Tormund and Tormund isn’t one to back down from a challenge. Our clansmen have charged the field! As are Tormund’s men! A sea of red tartans and yellow kilts snapping together like the jagged jaws of a dragon—

Wait, Brighde! “Where are ye going!” She didna’ hear me! She’s crying out for them to stop but if she’s caught in the melee, oh, I cannae bear to think, for the men have drawn weapons and she’s…wait, Tormund is…shouting at his men to back down! Racing down the field for Brighde who is beseeching them to stop and he has scooped her into his arms and carried her from the fray. He cares more about her safety than about his fight with her brother!

Oh, he has protected her! There’s no denying the love and worry contorting his visage. Silence has fallen. The menfolk have stopped. Except now Jamie knows the truth about his sister’s secret tryst, too. How can one ignore what we have all just witnessed? Both men love Brighde dearly, I can tell. Perhaps a peace between these two headstrong men is possible…if their love for her is stronger than their feud?

About Highland Rogue to Ruin: Known as the “Demon of the Seas,” Tormund MacLeod only wants vengeance for his brother’s murder. At this year’s Lughnasadh festival, the vicious and unyielding Laird of the powerful MacDonald clan will know the bite of his sword. But the festival offers many distractions—including a fair and bonny masked vixen whose touch disarms Tormund, body and soul. And och, like the cursed MacLeod he is, he wants what he shouldn’t have…

Lady Brighde MacDonald might understand her brother’s overprotectiveness—but she doesn’t have to like it. What she needs is the reckless freedom in the arms of an imposing, rough, and sweet-talking Highlander. Only too late, they both recognize that they’re enemies. She’s the sister of the man Tormund wants dead. And he is the brutish blackguard of the clans…

Now their tryst could mean war. Brighde would see a truce, but it means she must convince her brother and the man she loves to lay down their swords. But Tormund hides a long-buried secret that could destroy both clans.

Available Now: Amazon B&N Kobo Apple Amazon AU Amazon CA Amazon U.K.

About E. Elizabeth Watson: Elizabeth is an Amazon Top 100 and #1 Barnes and Noble Ebook bestselling author. She is convinced life is better with good coffee, chocolate, and a pair of hiking boots. Ever since her elementary school librarian “published” her epic childhood tales–complete with laminated handmade covers–she’s enjoyed exploring the world through literature.

While studying prehistoric Britain at Newcastle University, Elizabeth found story inspiration in the tumultuous history of the British Isles and the folklore of Scotland. As an undergrad at the University of Texas at Austin, her rock art research drew her to the harsh Texas desert where she imagined charismatic cowboys and the stubborn women who tame them.

An archaeologist and biomed research coordinator, Elizabeth spends her days penning heroes ranging from Scottish and Medieval warriors to Texas cowboys crowned with Stetsons. Whether in kilts or pearl-snaps, her heroes wear plaid! She currently lives on a mountainside in West Virginia with her husband, sons, and various pets.

Always honored to hear from readers, make sure to follow her on:

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No Proper Lady

By Rue Allyn

On August 16, 2023

In Teatime Tattler

No proper lady goes in search of scandalous on dits. When those on dits land on one’s own doorstep what is a lady to do? Why, share them, of course!

Whilst not in possession of the details, that certainly won’t stop me from telling all I have observed from a few casual hours watching my neighbors. Having a footman to open the windows just enough to allow the breeze and the conversation to flow into each room is most efficacious.

There is increased activity at the St. James Square home of Lady Camilla Bowles Attington Carrington Whitby. (How pretentious is she to have buried three wealthy husbands? Any lady of good breeding would have stopped at two and left at least one of them to the rest of us.) Her nephew, Lionel Carrington-Bowles, has had a scandalous reputation for years, he and those friends of his. Captain Atherton, who paints those naughty portraits. The barrister, Mr. Forsythe, who has had as many lovers as he has won cases before the King’s Bench. That frightening Bow Street Runner, Archer Colwyn. I cannot begin to tell you what I have heard about his bedchamber adventures!

Speaking of bedchambers, I have it on excellent authority (my own, of course) these four have done something which may create a ripple of scandal throughout London. This impending disaster includes the sinful bookshop run by the Duke of Chelmsford’s brother, a lost journal that names names, the search for said journal, and most frightening, the proprietor of Goodrum’s House of Pleasure!

The pirate queen, Captain El, has been in and out of Lady Camilla’s townhouse in the night (thank goodness for gas lighting on St. James Square.) Lady Honoria Eveleigh was seen with Captain Atherton, alone! Mr. Forsythe called upon Lord Trevellyn’s mysterious widow not during calling hours. Broad sheets are full of horrific murders that have something to do with chess masters and blood rituals, and Mr. Colwyn of Bow Street has been seen challenging the masked chess mistress in residence at, of all places, Goodrum’s.

What does this have to do with a missing journal? From the desperate measures these four scoundrels have taken? Everything! London is rife with rumors of kidnappings, London’s foremost barristers in a remote village up to heaven knows what, brawls at the Earl of Livingston’s exclusive club on Bruton Street. (So I have heard. I have no idea if such a place even exists.) Reports of gunfire at the home of Mrs. Julia Amherst, a widow of unimpeachable morals. Much of this activity takes place under cover of night and even with the gas lighting the view from my windows doesn’t allow me to see everything. More’s the pity.

One hopes these young men will find said journal soon. These chess murders are unsettling. Murder isn’t the done thing in our part of London. So undignified. Such a mess for the servants to clean up. All over some lost journal and the bedchamber antics of four of the most notorious…

Captain Atherton and Mr. Forsythe have just come out of Lady Camilla’s. Do open the window, John. I cannot hear a word they are saying.

More to follow, dear friends!

Lady Gladys Kravitz

About Claiming the Chess Mistress: By night, she’s a masked chess mistress who challenges and trounces all takers; by day, she’s the ethereal white-blonde beauty who volunteers at the children’s refuge in Seven Dials — Charlotte Smythe lives a luxurious double life of ease as the mysterious chess genius at Goodrum’s House of Pleasure..

After spending years as a gifted investigator extricating others from their peccadillos, dedicated Bow Street runner Archer Colwyn has landed in a suds of his own making. The light-hearted journal of sensual exploits he and his school chums kept while students at Cambridge has gone missing, and the secrets within his particular pages, if revealed, could set off deadly consequences.

The dangerous Captain El Goodrum, proprietress of the most infamous house of pleasure in London, holds the key to their retrieval. In exchange for her cooperation, she demands he run a gauntlet of secrets to deliver a master criminal to justice. His only path to the damning pages is the inscrutable chess mistress who not only resents his attempts to romance away his journal pages, but seems to relish his dread and panic at the prospect of the pages becoming public knowledge.

Charlotte craves the kind of refuge she provides to the orphans she rescues from London’s stews. The respite she seeks away from the world in her St. John’s Wood villa with her two house companions is all that keeps her sane, but sometimes, late at night, she needs something more, something even she cannot name.

Excerpt: “Madame Goodrum, there is a good deal about me of which you are unaware. Many others have underestimated me…” He paused a long, silent moment before finally uttering, “At their own peril.”

“Ah, but there you are wrong. I don’t know whom you’ve dealt with in the past, but I see no peril in front of me now.”

“What do you see?” He leaned close again, his voice tense.

“I see a man desperate to reclaim something which could harm someone very close and dear to him.”

He jerked back as if seared by flames.

“Ah, yes. Now you see – I understand fully what is at stake here.” She kept her voice low and soothing, but she was sure he hadn’t missed the meaning of her words. His eyes had widened and he’d sucked in a sharp breath.

Even though she was certain she’d shattered his nerve, he straightened and demanded, “Stop baiting me. Just tell me. What is it you want?”

She slid a leather portfolio across the desk. “Read the papers inside and then bring me proof of the elimination of the man they concern.” She then placed an expensive vellum card into his hand. “This woman is the key to the return of your journal pages. She’s unlike any other woman you’ve ever encountered, so do not think to deal with her the same way you’d deal with the simpering females of your acquaintance.”

He took the card and studied the expensive, gilded printing.

She knew by heart what was on the carefully crafted card: “Madame Domino, Chess Mistress Extraordinaire” Beneath the name were gold edged letters for four nights of the week – Tuesday through Friday. The bottom line was stamped with the symbol of Goodrum’s House of Pleasure – a ship under full sail, flying a pennant etched with a tiny skull and crossbones. The card was the face of the lucrative worldwide business El had built with her own blood and sweat. The hard-won empire was hers to use as she pleased.

When he made to pluck the card from her grasp, she tightened her hold. “If you take this card, you are bound by your word to deliver this man to justice.” She gave the leather bag between them an ominous tap.

He snatched the card from her grasp and shouldered the bag before heading back out through her office door. He said nothing further. He didn’t have to.

She’d successfully leveraged the deeply held secret that could destroy not only him, but his sole reason for continuing to walk among the living.

Available now: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CBZSCCXL

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LOUISA CORNELL BIO

After retiring from a European career as an opera singer, Louisa returned to her first love, writing Regency romance. A two-time Golden Heart finalist, three-time Daphne du Maurier winner, and four-time Royal Ascot winner—she is a member of RWA, Southern Magic RWA, and Regency Fiction Writers. She is both indie published and published by Scarsdale Publishing. Her first published work, the novella A Perfectly Dreadful Christmas from Christmas Revels, won the 2015 Holt Medallion. Her novel A Study in Passion won the historical romance mid-length category of RWA’s 2021 Vivian Award.

ANDREA K. STEIN BIO

The daughter of a trucker and an artist, she never knew it would take the hard-work ethic of her father to achieve the light-filled magic of her mother’s art. She grew up a scribbler. The stories just spilled out. A newspaper and publishing professional for thirty years, she ran away to sea for three years, delivering yachts to the Caribbean, earning a USCG offshore captain’s license. Now, she writes about love and adventure on the high seas from her writing room in Colorado. The first of the Men of the Squadron series, Pride of Honor, was a finalist in the RWA Beau Monde Chapter’s coveted Royal Ascot Contest. Rhum Bay, a prequel to the Men of the Squadron, snagged First Place in Romance in the Colorado Pikes Peak Writers Fiction Contest.

A House Party Escape

By Rue Allyn

On August 2, 2023

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Mr. Clemens,

Something scandalous has happened at Northanger Abbey. I do not know the particulars, but it must involve that tyrant General Tilney. His daughter Eleanor has suddenly taken it into her head to find a husband! Any husband, so long as she escapes the general as soon as possible.

Whispers hint that she will settle for any man rich enough to satisfy her father, but what no one is talking about is what poor Philip Brampton thinks. This reader knows that Mr. Brampton and Miss Tilney have been in love since they were children, but they have no hope of a happy union. Her father will never let Eleanor marry him. Philip is neither rich nor grand enough for the controlling general. I shudder to think what he would he do to Eleanor if he learnt she really wants to marry Philip.

Rumor says that Sir Charles Sudbury is looking for a wife, and he has twelve thousand a year. General Tilney will be pleased, but I heard that there is neither servant nor woman on the town who Sir Charles hasn’t had in his bed. It is likely not a practice he will give up when he marries.

What is Eleanor thinking by going to this house party—with Philip there—to find any husband the general will approve of? What happened at Northanger to make such a sensible, kind woman settle for a loveless marriage? They say that Philip is too shy to challenge the general, but he is devoted to Eleanor. He must be devastated, and he would be such a better husband to a warm heart like Eleanor’s than that cold, selfish Sir Charles.

Can anything good come of such a scenario? What will General Tilney do if he learns his daughter has secretly been in love with a poor man with no connections? What will Eleanor do if she actually marries someone other than Philip? She will be breaking both of their hearts, but what can I do to help her?

Your sincerely,

A concerned friend

About Loving Miss Tilney: She’s forbidden to wed a nobody. He’s nothing in society’s eyes. Will their desperate schemes backfire before they find a way to be together?

Northanger Abbey. Eleanor Tilney can’t bear her lonely life any longer. Distraught when her tyrannical father throws her friend out of the house because the girl lacks an inheritance, the long-suffering general’s daughter decides anything is better than a future all alone. So in a frantic bid for freedom, she puts aside her tender feelings for a man of no standing to pursue a wealthy husband.

Philip Brampton understands that fortune is against him. And he tries gallantly to bury his distress and support his lonely beloved, even after she starts pursuing an arrogant buffoon. But when he catches the fellow about to kiss her, their resulting harsh words cause a heartbreaking rift.

Stiffening her spine in a world that refuses to acknowledge her value, Eleanor attempts to navigate the impossible situation without quashing her desires. And though his shy nature abhors a scene, Philip braces himself for a confrontation with her cruel and abusive patriarch.

Do these childhood sweethearts have any hope of achieving lasting happiness?

Excerpt: “So long as he is not a fool or a rake or has a temper like my father’s, I will do what I must to marry the first eligible man I see.”

“You are in earnest? Eleanor, no!” Alice cried. “What about Mr Brampton?”

The mention of Philip’s name brought fresh to her heart the most excruciating and intolerable pang. “He is a friend, and friend enough that he would be happy to see me removed from Northanger.”

Alice gave her a disbelieving stare, and Eleanor looked away in silence, her heart beating fast.

“Mr Brampton is merely the son of your mother’s cousin, then?” Alice’s voice raised sceptically. “A childhood friend, the intimate of Mr Henry Tilney’s? That is all he is to you?”

She could hardly say that he could be everything to her if only he had the courage to speak and if her father would ever agree. If General Tilney disdained Catherine Morland, he would never consider Philip. Philip Brampton had connexions her father could value, but not near to the fortune.

Whatever our feelings are for one another, Philip has enough pride not to ask when he knows the general would never consent to our union.

Eleanor, endeavouring to collect herself and speak with firmness, went on. “Mr Brampton and I are connected by the bonds of common friend‐ ship, no more, and he knows what I suffer at Northanger. Mr Brampton would, of course, wish a happy union for me—”

“With himself!”

“With a gentleman my father approved of and whom I respected.”

“He might say that, but he won’t feel it in his heart.” Alice gave her a long look. “How can you marry a man you don’t love?”

She felt a calm resolve settle over her. “I am not interested in captivating a man’s heart. There is some man who needs a wife with a fortune, with good connexions, a wife to keep his house and tend to his children and who requires nothing more than respect and the authority due to any married woman.”

“You might be made so unhappy if you choose poorly.”

Eleanor gave her a sad smile. “How happy do you think I am now? My happiness will come from my freedom from Northanger.”

Buy link: https://mybook.to/LovingMissTilney

About the Author: Heather Moll writes romantic variations of Jane Austen’s classic novels. She is known for her historic details, unique plots, and characters true to the beloved originals. She is an avid reader of mysteries and biographies with a masters in information science. She found Jane Austen later than she should have and made up for lost time by devouring her letters and unpublished works, joining JASNA, and spending too much time researching the Regency era. She is the author of An Appearance of Goodness, An Affectionate Heart, Nine Ladies, and Loving Miss Tilney. She lives with her husband and son, and struggles to balance all the important things, like whether to clean the house or sit down and write.

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A Golden Ticket to… Marriage?

By Rue Allyn

On July 26, 2023

In Teatime Tattler

Dearest Readers,

When Baron Granville died last month, mammas everywhere tittered with glee because the title passed to his handsome and quite eligible son. Do not pop your stays in excitement yet, ladies. I have it on good authority that just prior to the elder Granville’s passing, he ordered his son to find a wife and secure the barony. But those of you who follow this column know that Lord Owen Granville is often found in the company of that odious rake, Lord Twisden, and spends more time in gaming hells than his own house.

Should it come as any surprise then that the new baron would choose to seek out the services of Mrs. Dove-Lyon, the infamous matchmaker and owner of the Lyon’s Den gaming hell? In a Season full of eligible young ladies, it would seem that he would prefer to gamble for a woman than court one!

This writer has also been informed that the new baron recently received one of the golden invitations to the Mystere Masque at the Lyon’s Den. A night sure to be full of drinking, gambling, and wanton wickedness. No lady of quality would dare be seen there, hiding behind the mask of anonymity where anything might happen. One can only imagine the type of bride the baron will take at a gaming hell on a night of debauchery. But then, with many of the Ton secretly desiring to go to the Mystere Masque, Lord Granville might, for once, surprise us.

About Night of Lyons – The Lyon’s Last Chance:

Choosing between love and loyalty has never been so painful.

Owen Granville has secretly been in love with his best friend’s sister, Grace, for years. A disastrous bet from his youth ended with his promise to never speak to her again, so when Owen finds himself in need of a wife, he knows he’ll have to choose another woman. An invitation to a masquerade ball hosted by a renowned matchmaker seems to offer the perfect opportunity to find a suitable wife. But fate has other plans because Grace is also at the ball in search of a husband. Suddenly Owen has a chance to win her back, but if he succeeds, it comes at a great cost—the betrayal of his best friend.

Pre-Order Link: https://amzn.to/44jspWu (also available in KU)

Excerpt: The moment he stepped through the open door into the moonlit gardens, a body bumped into him and he heard a soft, feminine “oof”. Owen gently gripped the woman’s arms to steady her and looked down—way down—into eyes so familiar, that his breath caught in surprise.

The lamp light shone down on luxurious, dark brown hair fashioned in ringlets and tied with golden ribbons that matched the mask covering half of her face which had a fan of short peacock feathers to one side. He didn’t need to see behind it to know the soft curve of her cheek or the dark sweep of lashes over the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen. As small and delicate as she was, she fit perfectly in his arms, and Owen couldn’t help his instinctive reaction to pull her closer. His hand slid down one arm to encircle her waist and anchor her to him.

Call it destiny, luck, or whatever else came to mind. Owen had come to the masquerade in search of a wife and found the woman of his dreams. God help him because George would kill him, but right at that moment, he couldn’t summon the will to care. Grace Twisden was in his arms again, and if he had any say in the matter, she would stay there.

“Gracie,” he whispered, savoring her nickname on his lips. A name he’d forbidden himself from speaking for far too many years. She looked ravishing in her deep blue gown embroidered with green and gold peacock feathers, accentuating the curve of her hips and delightful bosom.

She stiffened in his arms and took a half step back, her eyes wide behind her mask. Then she slapped him.

Connected Series: Taken by Destiny

Book 2- Tempting the Reclusive Earl- Teatime Tattler link: https://bluestockingbelles.net/the-belle-of-the-ball-chasing-the-awkward-earl/

Book 1- The Earl’s Timely Wallflower- Teatime Tattler link: https://bluestockingbelles.net/an-earl-with-two-mistresses-in-the-same-house/

About the Author: Aurrora St. James writes sexy historical and paranormal/fantasy romances featuring tough heroes, strong women, quirky characters, and a touch of humor added in for spice. She loves coffee, making her own journals, old B, C, and D-movies, and the magic of a happily ever after.

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Ruinous Secrets Revealed

By Rue Allyn

On July 19, 2023

In Teatime Tattler

Dearest Readers,

The Tattler has acquired personal letters exchanged during the late war between certain Marquis of R. and Lady R. F. Those letters are printed below for your delectation.

Lady R. F. undoubtedly did not have permission for this correspondence, regardless of how innocent the subject matter.

We are uncertain who should be taken to task for this very serious breach of propriety. The Marquis, The Lady, or perhaps the Lady’s parent Earl F. Regardless of who is to blame for allowing this indecorous correspondence, one thing is clear, only a very fast lady of dubious honor would participate in this activity. Hence, Lady R. F. is ruined, unless perhaps her parent can find a man willing to accept this fallen damsel as bride, or… is it possible, that The Marquis might be persuaded to come up to scratch and right all wrongs.

The letters follow:

Dear R… —

How is that new mare of yours, the one with the white forelock you said was so stubborn? I would venture to guess you have her in hand now. A black-and-white mongrel has attached himself to me, and though I welcome the company, I must leave him soon. More about that in a moment.

The fighting has been brutal, but Hermes has seen me through. He is a grand fellow, a horse in a thousand! For all the blood and gore—I shall spare you the details—the beauty of Portugal is not lost on me. The blue of the sky astonishes with its clarity and brilliance, the flowers and other vegetation abundant. You would enjoy it here! The local food is quite tasty, but most of all you would find the Spanish and Portuguese horses particularly compelling! These beasts are marvels of agility, speed, and courage. I would bring you home a dozen if only I could do so.

How are your stepsisters? Lady B…? Is F… treating you with any courtesy? Your talent with the horses is unparalleled, yet the earl seems to denigrate you at every turn. That disturbs me greatly.

Thank you for sending along that packet of tea and the two pairs of socks. Though it is beastly warm here, the socks have already proved their worth in keeping my feet dry.

In your last note, you asked what I miss the most. Scones would be one answer. Perhaps English ale another. But most especially, I miss you. Your laughter, your smiles, our gallops, your love of mischief… Should I not have said the latter? Ha! Perhaps not, but it is the truth.

I must keep this brief, as Napoleon has reportedly withdrawn some twenty- to thirty-thousand troops to the eastern front! Wellington is ecstatic, and we are marching from Portugal to Spain in a day or so. But before we leave, I must find a home for the dratted mongrel, for he is too gentle-natured and intelligent to be left to his own devices.

Stay well, Rosie! If all goes as it should, I shall be home by Christmas!

R…

Dear R… —

L… was almost caught delivering your letter to me! The earl entered the morning room just as she gave it over, and he asked, “What is that?”

I near died.

I dissembled by saying it appeared to be a letter from your sister, Susannah. He made a grimace, but did not pursue the subject further. I have never breathed such a sigh of relief. If he discovered we were corresponding… Horrors.

Lady P… of A… is coming along well now that we have arrived at an accord. She is brilliant and will make a fine hunter.

Someday, I would like to see the Portuguese sky as you described in your letter. All your descriptions of the animals and landscape make me want to venture from our corner of England.

Thank you so much for the hawk feather you sent in the note. I shall treasure it.

Lady Ch… and Lady Cl… are well, and though L… is anticipating her come out with great excitement, Cl… is not enthused, her nose buried deep those archeology books she treasures. Lady B… thrives, as well, though how she can continue to abide the earl, I cannot see. I will say, she stands up for the girls and myself when the earl demands too much of us.

Do you intend to bring any of these exceptional horses home with you? It sounds as if they would add much to your bloodstock.

I continue to miss you, for life at F… is flat without you and has offered few adventures since your departure.

How fervently I wish the war ended! And you home and safe.

Please do stay safe, dear friend. May you come home soon!

With warmest wishes,

R…

About the Book: An impossible choice…

Lady Rosamund Fielding hides a secret so terrible it could ruin her, her family, and Major General Lord Rhys Lansdowne, the man she loves. Rose and Rhys were inseparable in childhood—their friendship the one shining light in Rose’s dark upbringing.

Yet when Rhys proposes, Rose refuses, for he can never know her shameful truth.

Returned from the Napoleonic wars and now the Marquess of Ravenscroft, Rhys is determined to uncover the reason behind Rose’s rejection and win her hand and heart once and for all.

Meanwhile, Rose’s father, Earl Fielding, demands Rose accept Brigadier Viscount Pennworth’s marriage proposal, threatening dire consequences if she does not obey.

Time is of the essence as Rose faces this difficult crossroads, where she is forced to confront past demons and choose a path.

Should she marry Rhys, deceiving him, and forever be branded a liar in his eyes? She cannot.

Wed Pennworth? Never.

Or flee? Away from Rhys, away from her father, and away from all she holds dear.

Rose has faced many dangerous choices in her life. Will this final one destroy her?

Available Now: Amazon: https://amzn.to/3XUW06D Everywhere Else: https://books2read.com/u/4DJvx7

About the Author: Award-winning author Vicki Stiefel now also writes as Sanna Brand, whose Regency Romance, THE BOND (The Secret Tales Book 1) launches May 15. Vicki has also written the fantasy romance series, The Made Ones Saga, as well as The Afterworld Chronicles, an urban fantasy series. Her award-winning mystery/thrillers feature homicide counselor Tally Whyte.