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Category: Bluestocking Belles Page 4 of 47

That Lovely French Emigre is not to be Trusted

Dear Sir,

I am here to report a tale of treason. It involves a lovely French emigre and one of our finest English families! 

You must print this so that this lady—a princess of Bourbon blood, too—does not corrupt this good English family completely.

It began weeks ago when our renowned MP, Sir R—was pushed into the and run over by a careless coachman. He nearly died. He has lost his leg to amputation. But I ask you, who put the coachman up to the heinous crime???

I say it was this Miss Marguerite, aka ‘Daisy’ M—. Yes, she of the famous M— family, comtes of Normandy. Cousins to the new King Louis and his family. She has hidden in our country, lo these many years with her large elusive family, who are nothing more than thieves and charlatans themselves! 

Why has she appeared at our poor Sir R—’s home? And at such an importune time?

Why does she remain? 

I tell you why. I have it on good authority that she seduces SIr R’s nephew. He is younger than his uncle and handsome as a god. 

You must stop her seduction. She is dangerous and will only once again ruin the name of Sir R’s nephew. After all, he was once suspected of murder. Though the true criminal was never caught, Sir R’s nephew must not fall for this lady and further lose whatever reputation he has left.

Spread the word, dear sir.

Daisy M— is not to trusted.

***

Excerpt, BECAUSE OF YOU, Copyright, Cerise DeLand 2023. All rights reserved.

“You are most kind,” Daisy told her host as the servant departed. “And I have intruded. I do beg your pardon. I had no idea Mr. Ruxton was injured.”

“Sir Daniel,” Garrick said with a tone of polite correction.

She tipped her head. “Excuse me?”

“My uncle is Sir Daniel Ruxton, Baronet Ruxton. Eighth of his line.”

“Forgive me. I had no idea.”

He walked toward her and took the settee opposite. An arm flung across the back, crossing one leg over the other, he regarded her. His perusal this time was friendlier than before, but inquisitive. “You truly have no idea who my uncle is?”

She knew not what his phrasing implied. She told him what she could. “I do know that he wrote to me for weeks. That he is a widower with two young daughters whom he loves dearly. That he wishes for himself to have a normal life again, which, since the death of his wife, he has not enjoyed.”

With knitted brows, he took that in as if he weighed it in his heart. “My uncle is a kind man, a good one, Miss Molyneaux. He does suffer with this injury. I will tell you that. We do pray for his recovery.” 

“As do I, sir. As do I. Oh, not…not because I wish an apology. Not now. But because one should not suffer so dearly. Life is difficult enough without…without chaos.” And now chaos was hers. If Sir Daniel did not marry her, chaos was once again hers.

“Just so.” Mr. Ruxton pressed his hands together. “I gather you understand that well.”

She stared at him. “I do.”

He inclined his head toward her. “The chaos of your particular memories.”

She flinched. Her particular memories. She successfully hid them most of the time. 

“The Terror?”

Oui.” Would she never escape it? “The Great Terror.”

“I must ask, miss, why precisely were my uncle and you to meet at Gunter’s?”

“He was to bring me home and—”

“Pardon me.” The man blinked. “You would come…here with him?”

“That’s normal. I mean—”

The man’s angelic eyes turned a shocking green. “To live?”

“Well, yes. That is the way.”

“You were to be his…” He gazed around the room, looking for a word.

“Wife.”

***

MATRIMONY! #2  BECAUSE OF YOU

Love does not advertise. Love is not proud. 

But when a young woman has nothing left but pride, she places an ad and hopes for a husband to treasure.

Miss ‘Daisy’ Molyneaux is desperate. All her family is dead. Her home in Normandy, attacked by mobs. Now that the little general has abdicated, she has a chance to gain back her lands. But she needs a husband who will help her regain her rights. So she pays to post an advert for a husband.

When the man who answers is not one she could ever love, but his nephew could be, can she accept his proposal?

Garrick Ruxton appears to her like a golden-haired hero, a handsome creature who saves her from an imperfect marriage. Garrick vows to  accompany Daisy to France and, in the bargain, solve his own problem. His shipments, meant for British forces on the Continent, constantly go missing. He knows not who or how or why the thieves steal his goods. Worse, someone has attempted to kill his uncle. Daisy, too. 

Garrick must find all those guilty before he is accused of treason. Before Daisy loses all hope of regaining her rights. And before they both lose the one chance they have to find happiness together.

BUY LINK: 

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Cerise DeLand is the USA TODAY bestselling author who hates to dust, loves to cook and write!

Visit her: http://cerisedeland.com

A Winning Wager

Dearest Gentle Reader:

It should come as no surprise that the Black Widow of Whitehall has been known as a matchmaker… that is… if you can afford the price. Recently the winner of an unusual bet at her Lyon’s Den, the Marquis of S was seen escorting a certain widow to the recent Hamilton affair. You must remember Mrs. H who has been the topic for many years in this very paper. She, among several of her lady friends, are a part of the Wicked Widow’s Club and if the rumors spreading among the ton are true, then the Marquis is determined to see Mrs. H. is returned to polite society. But time will tell if he can perform such a miracle and if he does, you’ll read it here first in your reliable Teatime Tattler!

Sincerely,

Samuel Clemens
Editor


Bluestocking Belle Sherry Ewing’s next release is entitled To Claim A Lyon’s Heart which is part of the Lyon’s Den Connected World. She, along with Belle Jude Knight, coordinated several scenes between their characters so Vincent and Moriah may look familiar if you’ve read her story The Talons of a Lyon. Read on for an excerpt from Sherry’s story.

Excerpt:

She found herself on the gallery looking over the gentlemen who were already deep into their cups and placing their wagers. Soft music from a harp and violin came from the far end of the room filled with candlelight. Most of the tables were filled with eager men ready to place their bets.

Cassandra leaned over to whisper in Moriah’s ear. “The table hosts, or dealers, are all men who are attracted to other men…”

“Interesting…” Moriah replied.

“And all have made-up names from Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s favorite play, A Midsummer’s Night Dream. This includes the bouncers and dealers.”

Moriah burst out laughing. “Surely you’re joking.”

“You’ll learn the ins and outs of the place quickly, depending on how long Mrs. Dove-Lyon takes to find the perfect man for you.”

“Do you think he’s really here, Cassie?” Moriah asked, almost holding her breath as her gaze swept the room. Her eyes traveled to one gentleman, and she almost dropped the wine glass she held in her hand. Moriah could hardly mistake the man who had watched her from a window of a neighboring house today. With the glaring sun, she highly doubted he had seen her clearly, but she certainly saw enough of him to know he had been utterly handsome.

His head bent forward as he perused his cards. A lock of his dark black hair fell rakishly over his forehead, giving Moriah the sudden urge to push back those silken locks from his face. From this distance, she couldn’t tell, but she thought his eyes might be blue. He appeared perhaps a year or two older than her own one and thirty years of age. Long fingers held his cards close to the table edge, causing Moriah to wonder how his palms and fingertips would feel caressing her skin.

Her face flushed at the thought and Moriah moved back from the railing of the gallery. She wanted to hide behind the curtain, too, but that would only make her distress more obvious. Good heavens…had it really been that long since she had a man in her bed that a perfect stranger could elicit such sudden urges in her body? She stole another glance at him, and when her heart flipped end over end, she realized that it had indeed been that long.

To Claim A Lyon’s Heart
Lyon’s Den Connected World
By Sherry Ewing
Release Date: June 21, 2023
Preorder for $0.99

 A gambler’s bet. A widow’s burden. Will one game of chance change their lives?

Vincent St. John, Marquis of Saxton, knows full well his duties to the duchy. His responsibilities have been drilled into him since his birth. He has no chance of finding a bride who will see him for who he truly is; they only see the title, not the man. A bet with Mrs. Dove-Lyon, the Black Widow of Whitehall, is just a diversion. Losing may win him everything.

Mrs. Moriah Henshaw has known her fair share of despair. The death of her parents and later her husband left her destitute with no option but to become a man’s mistress. Years later, her tarnished reputation outweighs her excellent birth, and keeps her from being accepted back into society. When her friend pays an outrageous sum to Mrs. Dove-Lyon to find Moriah a husband, Moriah cannot believe she will win anything.

When Vincent meets Moriah, he becomes determined to return her to her rightful place in society. But one accident after another threatens Moriah’s life, and neither of them will win in the game of love unless he can find out who is out to harm her.

Buy Links:

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About the Author:

Sherry Ewing picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. An award-winning and bestselling author, she writes historical and time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. When not writing, she can be found in the San Francisco area at her day job as an Information Technology Specialist. You can learn more about Sherry and her books on her website where a new adventure awaits you on every page at www.SherryEwing.com.

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Widow In Gentleman’s Apartment Scandal

The headline grabbed attention if Sam did say so himself. The editor of The Teatime Tattler held up the proof copy to the light, and grinned as he thought of all those papers sold. A respectable widow caught in a gentleman’s rooming house, in bed with a gentleman who was not even the room’s renter. Yes. An excellent story, and with credible witnesses!

He ignored a knock on the door. At this time of night, the newspaper office was shut. Indeed, he’d be off home to bed as soon as he gave the nod to the roll the presses and print tomorrow’s scandalbroth, so that it would be on people’s breakfast tables when they woke.

As he stood to go through to the printery to give the order, a couple of solid thuds made him pause. Then it flew open, and two men marched in. Sam blanched. He had already had a run-in with the Earl of Stanford last year, simply because the presses had printed a couple of caricatures the man objected to. Sam knew the man who snatched the newspaper from his hand, too. Lord Arthur Versey, world traveller, writer, and an even more dangerous man than Stanford.

Versey handed the newspaper to Stanford, who quickly scanned it. “It’s a pack of lies, Rex,” he said to Versey. “It says Regina was at Peach Tree Lane for an assignation with Deffew, and that Ashby tied the scoundrel up and abducted Regina.”

“You are going to have to rewrite that, Clemens,” Versey told Sam.

“I have witnesses to everything that’s in there,” Sam insisted. “And I have witnesses!”

“Any Deffews or Snowdens amongst your witnesses?” Standford demanded. “For they are trying to compromise a lady.”

Sam must have shown the truth in his expression, for Versey growled. “It was them.”

“Not just them,” Sam protested.

“And their friends,” Rex added.

Stanford obviously decided a gentler approach would be more useful. “Look, Clemens, you’re an honest man. Your newspaper told the truth about the persecution against my wife. Here’s your chance to be on the side of the angels again. Rex, tell him what really happened.”

***

One Perfect Dance

Regina Paddimore puts her dreams of love away with other girlish things when she weds her father’s friend to escape a vile suitor who tries to force a marriage. Sixteen years later, and two years a widow, she seeks a husband who might help her fulfil another dream—to have her own child.

Elijah Ashby escapes his abusive step-family as soon as he comes of age, off to see the world. Letters from his childhood friend Regina are all that connects him to England. Sixteen years later, now a famous travel writer, the news she is a widow brings him home.

Sparks fly between them when they meet again. Regina begins to hope for love as well as babies. Elijah will be happy just to have her at his side. However, Elijah’s stepbrothers are determined to do everything they can—lie, cheat, kidnap, even murder—so that one of them can marry Regina and take her wealth for themselves.

Love and friendship must conquer hatred and spite before Elijah and Regina can be together.

Buy now: https://books2read.com/1PerfectDance

***

Excerpt from One Perfect Dance

She unlocked the door, and Lady Kingsley swept inside. Wilson stammered apologies, but Regina waved him off. Her mother was a force of nature.

“Go back to your post,” she told him, and closed the door. If her mother was going to make a fuss, she didn’t want her servants and her son to hear.

She turned to ask her mother to explain her presence, but Lady Kingsley spoke first, to Elijah. “Do I need to ask your intentions towards my daughter, Mr. Ashby?”

“No, Mama,” Regina said. “I am a grown woman, and my actions are my own business.”

Lady Kingsley turned a chair around from the desk to face the bed. “You are right, Regina. I withdraw the question.”

Regina’s indignant response to the lecture she expected died on her tongue, and for a moment, she had nothing to replace it.

“My apologies for not rising, Lady Kingsley,” Elijah said, lifting himself off the pillows enough to bow his head, and then collapsing back with a grimace.

Regina’s mother frowned. “Are you unwell, Mr. Ashby?”

“Elijah was injured last night, fighting off some attackers,” Regina explained. She resumed her seat in the chair next to Elijah’s bed, so they were facing her mother together.

“Last night?” Mother asked. “Then you were with Regina, Mr. Ashby?” She turned a concerned gaze on Regina. “There is gossip about your activities yesterday evening, daughter. I want to know how I can help counter what is being said.”

“What is being said?” Elijah asked.

“That Regina had an assignation with Mr. David Deffew in an apartment in Peach Tree Lane. That you broke in, Mr. Ashby, tied Mr. Deffew up, and threatened to shoot Mr. Deffew if he followed. Mr. Deffew claims that Regina has promised to marry him and is threatening to have you arrested for abducting her.”

That perverted version of the evening’s events had Regina’s eyebrows twitching upward. Elijah, however, laughed. “Does Dilly truly think people will believe that?” he scoffed.

“I do not,” Mother insisted. “I know Regina despises the man, and I believe her to be right in his assessment of his character. But several of Richard Deffew’s friends claim to have seen her coming out of the building with you, Mr. Ashby. Richard Deffew is Mr. Deffew’s nephew.”

“Did those friends mention that Elijah’s servant was with us, and that he and Elijah were half-carrying Geoffrey? I was there because a messenger came to tell me that Geoffrey had been injured in an accident and needed me.”

“Ah!” Lady Kingsley commented. “Another abduction attempt.”

“It was,” Regina agreed. “An unsuccessful one, since Elijah saw me leaving here in a hackney with one of the young men that Geoffrey has been seeing. He came after me. We rescued Geoffrey, who had been drugged, and then Elijah and Fullaby fought off a group of the young men, who attacked us when we left the building.”

“Rex was there too,” Elijah disclosed.

Mother gave a single decisive nod. “Excellent. The pair of you have a witness that Society will accept as credible.”

As opposed to Fullaby and Geoffrey, though to be fair, Geoffrey was not in a condition to be much of a witness.

“Do you happen to know whether Deffew has an apartment in that building?” Elijah asked.

Mother shook her head. “Not to my knowledge. He and his nephew live with Matthew Deffew.”

Ash grinned, the flame of mischief in his eye. “Then Society might put its busy mind to wondering why he was in that building at all, let alone in the condition I saw him.”

Mother raised her eyebrows and inclined her head. “The condition in which you saw him?” she repeated, making a question of it.

Elijah’s grin broadened. “I should tell you that the room to which we were directed, the room in which Geoffrey was being held, was towards the far end of the passage from the stairwell. To reach it, one had to pass a door that had been damaged and loosely propped in the frame, so anyone who looked in that direction would see a man spreadeagled on the bed. He was unclothed and tied by his wrists and ankles to the bed posts.”

Impressive! His statement was entirely true but left out any mention of their altercation with Deffew.

“Unclothed!” Mother repeated. “I take it you recognized this man, Mr. Ashby.”

“I did,” Elijah told her gravely. “It was David Deffew. One wonders how he found himself in that state, in what is, after all, a building full of bachelor apartments. A foolish jape? An assignation gone wrong? Perhaps he was waiting for the owner of the apartment?”

“One prefers not to speculate,” Mother replied, dryly, “but it would be unkind not to permit other people to relish such an interesting insight into the character of the man who has been attempting to coerce my daughter into an unwanted marriage.”

“I thought you might see it that way,” Elijah said, and he and Mama exchanged a smile full of accord.

 

 

She is mine and I will take her back! Help me!

I write to you today, Tattler, in search of the woman I need to take back to my home. She has escaped me. Having written to that other nefarious newspaper that publishes adverts for those who wish to find spouses, she has gone to London and become the lover of a fellow who is not worthy of her.  

I appeal to you to help me find her. He has taken her away, supposedly to marry her.

But I will not care. Married or not. Ruined by him or not, I will have her back. She is mine. Has always been mine. I care not that she resembles my dead wife. She is lovelier than that one and my wife knew it. Knew I craved this one.

If you hear from her, Tattler, you must write to me. I track her now. Papers in London and Brighton papers say the couple has gone to Brighton. 

I will take her from him when they least expect me. I will show her that she is meant for me alone. No matter what she thinks.

MATRIMONY! #1. IF I LOVED YOU

Love does not advertise. Love counts no wrongs.

But when a young woman needs to escape, she’ll take an ad to find a man she can adore.

Verity Carr wants a new life in a new town far from her old home—and the vile threat to her body and soul. She comes from a fine family, has a good education and a bold ambition to become a portrait artist. She’s ready to live her life with a man who will value her. A husband she can can respect—and in time, hopefully love. Yet valiant though she is, she questions if she can escape her past and one who will not let her go.

Can a gentleman to whom great wrong was done, build a new life with a true wife and leave the past behind?

Miles St.John Armstrong never should have wed his first wife. He vows to select a new one with logic and careful investigation—via advertisement. The young lady he selects is Verity Carr who is no ordinary woman. She has charm, wit and a beauty that sears his soul. No wonder theirs is a relationship built quickly on admiration and trust. No wonder their marriage becomes one built of mutual mad passion. 

But devoted as they are, their past comes to call.

And it asks of them the ultimate question: Can their love withstand the tempest and survive the terror?

AUTHOR Cerise DeLand invites you to read her newest in a dramatically different romantic suspense inspired by the adverts to a spouse in Regency period!

Excerpt, IF I LOVED YOU. Copyright, 2023, Cerise DeLand.

Miles  had not known her for more than a few hours, but he’d seen her shock over such a sizable bequest. Certainly he could revel in the good fortune of anyone. But if she had suspicions about who had given her such a large inheritance and did not wish to discuss it with him, he could understand that, too. But her new-found gain, enough to support her at current standards in meager means for her lifetime, could lead her to break their agreement to marry. The possibility of losing her created an ache in his heart. A place he’d never expected to feel anything at all ever again. 

As they entered the Grosvenor Gate and passed the park wall, she strode more slowly and breathed more deeply. They took a turn on the path south and one glance at her told him she was more at ease.

“I hate to spoil your enjoyment,” he said, “but I think we should not walk here much longer. The shadows grow deeper.”

“You are right, of course.” She had her hands in her coat pockets as she stopped and spun toward him. “You have been very good to me today.”

He raised a hand, his smile wry. “No more gratitude, please. I am quite thanked.”

She stopped, faced him and tipped her head, suddenly the coquette, though to him, she did not seem to have planned the spontaneity of such an attitude. She was without guile—and he valued that unexpected characteristic more than he could ever have imagined.

“You are a darling man,” she said with an honesty that emphasized her simplicity and lack of artifice.

“You are kind to think so.” He remembered a few instances when the moniker he deserved was the opposite. Savage. Insane. Gullible. All came to mind in a rush of bile. 

She put her hands to his and held tightly. “Do you still want to marry a woman you barely know?”

“I’d like to marry you, if you’ll have me.”

She shook her head as if the whole idea were impossible. “Why? Why?”

“I want a wife. A friend. I am lonely. You seem a gentle soul. I think we would do well together.”

“I cannot imagine that you have not met a thousand young ladies you know better than me who would not make you a friend and wife because they do know you better.”

But they knew his past, too. His wife. “I would never find happiness with any I’ve met. They see me as the mill owner, a cit with a new title, an upstart viscount, too rich for his title. They also see me as a widower.” Not knowing I am more aggrieved than grieving. 

She stood immobile, only her large eyes searching his for what he would not reveal. “Did you love her?”

“When I married her, yes.”

“And do you miss her?”

“No.”

She nodded. “I see. Then your loneliness comes not from her lack.”

“No. It does not.”

She gulped. “Do you want children?”

He blinked and peered up at the deep blue clouds scudding across a darker moonlit sky. “I have not wished for that in many years. But now,” he said as he met her frank gaze, “I believe I would.”

She smiled as if he’d just given her the keys to the kingdom. “I would, too.”

He stepped closer to her, dropped her hands and cupped her shoulders. Her luscious curves fit into the planes of his suddenly very needy self. “Might we proceed to getting them?”

She arched her neck and let her eyes dance into his. “First we must be wed.”

“Will day after tomorrow do?”

“Quite well,” she said on a delighted laugh. “And then we must become better friends.”

He sent his fingers up into the heavy coil of hair at her nape. Her skin was as soft as charmeuse and her hair smelled of lavender. She’d been in his arms often today and her need had been great. Now, he would test to see if she might come for a new and startling reason. Might she come because she could want him? Want him as a man? As her lover?

She pulled back a little, a question on her plump lips. “Friends kiss.”

“They do,” he said with a smile that grew from a friend’s to a ravenous man’s. “Shall we?”

She studied his mouth and swallowed hard. “Oh, yes. From the moment I heard your voice on the Great North Road, I have wanted to know how you taste.”

“Well, then,” he said as he loomed over her lips, “we must not delay.”

 She circled her arms around his shoulders and pushed up on her toes. “Please don’t.”

The temptation to take her with all the ardor he bore her raged through him. He could not devour her like a satyr. He was a man who had foresworn passion and love. A man of reason and temperance. But then…

She put her lips to his, a brush of warm temptation. The sensation of her desire met the one of his quest as if two stars collided in the dark of night. Blinded by it, he groaned and caught her up. Her mouth was lush, and as his tongue invaded, he knew how hot her body was. How sweet. He swept the inside of her mouth and felt her complete surrender. This was what he’d craved. A woman who might love him.

He pulled away, breathless, cupping her cheek. “Darling, we must stop.”

In the shadows of the soft spring evening, she tipped her head and smiled at him. “You’ll kiss me again?”

“As often as you wish.”

There again was that sweet woman who drew him to her with the artless look of enchantment. “Must I tell you each time?”

“No,” he said on a laugh and hugged her close, then set her from him. “Only look at me like that, my darling, and I am yours.”

“As I am forever yours,” she said and put her arm in his to turn and walk home. 

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Frogmore’s Mistake?

Followers of Society news will be aware of the sad case of the marriage of Baron Frogmore. The baron, we are told, married in haste and regretted it at his leisure. He picked his bride for her beauty and overlooked the myriad ways in which she was unsuitable as the wife of any gentleman. This—or so the man’s brother and his wife assure us— is the reason that Lord Frogmore would not bring her ladyship to town. She was common, licentious, and stupid, they say. A strumpet plucked from poverty and set in high estate, but a pig in a tiara is still a pig.

Yet there is another story to be found. Some of our matrons remember Lady Frogmore as a young bride—a quiet and shy young woman with impeccable manners. Common born, yes. But born to an extremely wealthy merchant, and married with a rich dowry that the much older Lord Frogmore immediately set about spending. So she was not a strumpet, and not plucked from poverty.

Could it be, then, that the other claims made by Mr and Mrs Frogmore are equally false? Derived from a desire to keep their hands on the little heir, now baron since the death of his father? Some might think this a more likely motive than an honest desire to protect him and his sisters from a careless and unloving mother?

Society may judge for itself, for the powerful Versey family, led by the Duke and Duchess of Dellborough themselves, have taken up the widowed Lady Frogmore’s cause.

A little bird has whispered to this correspondent that the Verseys turned out in force in support of one of their own. Is the delightful Lord Lancelot Versey performing a disinterested charitable act in helping the widow to take her place in Society? Is it true that his involvement owes much to a careless wager with the Black Widow of Whitehall? Or has the consummate bachelor around town finally fallen in love?

The Teatime Tattler will leave you to be the judge.

***

The Talons of a Lyon

A Lyon’s Den Connected World novella

Lance Versey owes Mrs. Dove Lyon a promise. Fulfilling it will cost him the life he enjoys and win him the life he wants.

The death of Lady Frogmore’s neglectful and disloyal husband should have been a relief. But then her nasty brother-in-law seizes her three children and turns her out, telling the whole of Society that she is a crude, vulgar, and loose woman. Without allies or friends, Serafina, Lady Frogmore, turns to Mrs. Dove Lyon, also known as the Black Widow of Whitehall for help, paying her by promising to perform an unspecified favor at a time of the Mrs. Dove Lyon’s choice.

Lord Lancelot Versey has always tried to be a perfect gentleman, and a gentleman honors his debts, even when an unwise wager obliges him to escort a notorious widow into Society. But Lady Frogmore is not what he expects, and helping her becomes a quest worthy of the knight for whom he was named.

Except Mrs. Dove Lyon calls in Seraphina’s promise. The favor she asks might destroy all they have found together.

Published 26 April. Order now: https://amzn.to/3YVLvPt

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