Tag: Historical Romance Page 1 of 54

Bride Disappears into a Snowstorm!

On August 26, 2026

Dear Readers:

Whispers from Cumberland inform the Tattler that the long-delayed Christmas wedding between the Duke of Kendal and industrialist’s daughter Miss Penelope Montgomery has been delayed once more by the bride’s disappearance into a snowstorm. Captain Lord Hugo Dalston, the bridegroom’s brother, went in hot pursuit of the runaway, but neither has returned to Gaitskill Castle. Have they perished, or is a more scandalous possibility in the offing?

Snowed In with the Runaway Bride

by Alexa Santi

Betrothed to the Duke of Kendal since they were children and still recovering from a near-fatal illness, Miss Penelope Montgomery is resigned to the marriage … until she discovers her twin sister Pippa has been in love with Kendal for years. The only way to prevent disaster is for Penny to flee her Christmas wedding ahead of an incoming snowstorm that strands her at a tiny inn with her jilted groom’s irritatingly attractive brother Hugo.

Royal Navy Captain Lord Hugo Dalston wanted to escape the spectacle of the woman he loves marrying his older brother, but Penny’s impulsive actions force them to share the smallest room he’s ever seen in an isolated village where everyone believes them to be husband and wife. Even worse, the masquerade is dangerously seductive, showing Hugo what his life with Penny can be if he has the courage to risk his family, his livelihood, and even Penny’s health should her illness return.

Part of the Regency Runaway Brides Series

Buy Link:

https://Books2Read.com/SnowedInRunawayBride

Excerpt:

The closer her family’s traveling coach came to her wedding, the more Penelope Montgomery wished she could turn tail and run.

Her mother’s continuous burbles about the romance of Christmas weddings, as though this had not all been arranged when Penny was a mere child, made her want to scream.

A scream would echo oddly in the coach, likely muffled by the thick curtains that covered the windows and warm blankets that covered Penny, her mother, and Penny’s identical twin sister, Pippa.

Penny looked over at her sister, who had finally awakened after sleeping like the dead all the way from their last change of horses. Pippa lifted the curtain to look out the carriage window with a frown. Mother followed Penny’s gaze.

“Stop that, Pippa. You’re letting in a draft. Your sister will freeze.”

“Sorry, Mother,” Pippa said, without dropping the curtain. “I do believe it will snow.”

“It would be lovely to have snow for Christmas!” Mother gushed. Then she frowned. “But not until all of the guests have arrived. It would be dreadful to have everyone trapped on the road. Your father is still on his way from whatever that business was that sent him to Manchester.”

“If Papa is late, we could postpone the wedding,” Penny said, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.

Mother glared at her. “Bridal jitters are all very well, my dear, but it’s a bit late now. You shall be married in three days’ time.” She sighed. “A Christmas Eve wedding. So romantic.”

The rumble of the carriage wheels and clatter of the horses’ hooves picked up the rhythm of Mother’s words.

Three days’ time… three days’ time…

Penny had only three more days to escape her fate.

As the coach rounded the drive, she lifted the curtain on her own side of the carriage despite Mother’s fussing about the cold. That same cold seeped into Penny’s already aching bones as she regarded the gray stone walls that rose starkly against the winter-brown countryside.

In three days’ time, this would be her home. Away from her family. Away from her sister. Alone with a man who still felt like a virtual stranger even though they had known each other since they were children.

Barring one half-hearted attempt the previous year, he had never even so much as kissed her.

Not that she particularly wanted him to.

The carriage drew to a halt and the Duke of Kendal emerged from the front door, closely followed by a bevy of footmen. Carefully, Penny unfolded her limbs from the carriage seat. The painful swelling of her joints that had plagued her all through her recovery from the fever that had nearly killed her was becoming less frequent, but the cold, damp weather had made it flare up again. Combined with the rigors of travel, her aching joints wanted nothing more than a warm bed and perhaps some bitter but soothing willow bark tea.

But that could not be allowed, of course. She was the future Duchess of Kendal. The rituals must be adhered to. She must greet the servants, and then attend the reception with the whole family, and then dress for dinner, and then, and then, and then…

Penny shook out her skirts and pasted a smile on her face as the carriage door opened and a footman lowered the steps. Her gloved hand crept into the pocket of her pelisse to make certain the tiny wooden swallow was still there. Her good luck charm.

Before Penny could get to her feet, Mother all but leaped for the open door, startling the waiting footman, and made a precipitous descent, chattering all the way down. Taking a deep breath, Penny put weight on her sore joints and stood, her head stooped to avoid catching her traveling bonnet on the roof of the coach.

As she descended from the carriage, Penny looked beyond Kendal to see a familiar figure standing just inside the door, and her heart made a little leap even as her step faltered.

Hugo had come after all.

It had been uncertain whether Kendal’s younger brother would be able to get away from London, or so Kendal had written her. With Napoleon safely stashed away on St. Helena, Hugo had won his first official command as a post-captain after competing with most of the other captains of His Majesty’s Royal Navy. The Navy’s reduction in forces following the Allied victory at Waterloo had left many captains scrambling to find berths, which made Hugo’s accomplishment even more impressive.

Once he had left to be a midshipman, Penny had only seen Hugo once a year, or every few years, depending on his assignment, always with a new tale of derring-do at sea for his younger cousins… and for Penny to eavesdrop on, if she happened to be nearby.

She had always tried to be nearby.

But now the war was over, and he was here.

Penny busied herself with straightening her skirts once her feet were firmly on the ground, her heart pounding. The thought of marrying Kendal was already dreadful, but to have to do it with Hugo watching would be unbearable. He was always… judging her and her frivolous ways. Lurking in corners, frowning at her. Her skin prickled with heat every time she caught him looking at her with those disapproving brown eyes. He had only ever made one gesture that made her wonder if she was wrong about him.

Her hand strayed to where the tiny hand-carved swallow rested in her pocket before she tossed her head and straightened her bonnet. She didn’t care what Captain Lord Hugo Dalston thought of her. Not in the slightest.

Instead, she smiled at Kendal.

About the Author:

Alexa Santi loves storytelling of all kinds, so it’s no wonder it took some time for her to settle on writing romance novels after several career detours, including an MFA in Screenwriting from Loyola Marymount University. She lives near Los Angeles with her handsome archivist husband and their pesky cats, who insist she take frequent breaks from her writing to pay attention to them. You can find her on Facebook, Instagram, or on her website at https://www.alexasanti.com

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A Bachelor Besotted? Society Wonders

By Alina K. Field

On August 12, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

Something mysterious is afoot in the highest echelons of Society. The Honorable Crispin Thatchbury, that most eligible of bachelors beloved of hostesses everywhere, is decidedly not his dashing self of late.

Well‑informed readers may recall that Mr. Thatchbury recently traveled into the wilds of Cornwall on some secretive errand for His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent. The Tattler has discovered that his destination was Nevermore Castle, home of the late Sir Davian Moreland.

What happened to the elegant arbiter of fashion in that odd place, one wonders. Several sources report that Mr. Thatchbury — always the life of the party — has grown serious, a transformation the Tattler and Society at large find nearly unimaginable.

But the conundrum of his altered behavior pales beside the change in his appearance, for since his return he has appeared on every occasion sporting a wig, face powder, and patches — fashions outmoded for decades, although no doubt every idle gentleman will follow his lead before long.

Such a fashion ought to appear ridiculous, but the Tattler has been assured by several of our lady readers that such is emphatically not the case. Rather, his appearance has inspired much sighing and fluttering of fans, and Mr. Thatchbury in a wig has been variously described as devastating, delectable, and even swoonworthy.

When such a man — a bachelor of many years’ standing — is observed reading poetry and gazing dreamily into the distance rather than flirting and admiring his own reflection, what is one to think?

Has the elusive Crispin received a coup de cœur at last? Has a mysterious Cornish lady captured his affections when the fairest flowers of London failed to do so? Your correspondents at the Tattler will not rest until we have discovered all.

Nevermore Castle

Regency inheritance tangle. Two heirs. One castle. A chorus of goats.

Miranda Moreland has spent her life drifting from one relative to another, never quite fitting anywhere. Inheriting a castle on the Cornish coast feels like a miracle — a chance at stability, independence, and perhaps even the belonging she’s never dared to hope for.

But Nevermore Castle is already occupied. Lance, a mysterious American with disarming charm, has taken possession, surrounded by his lively family, a raven with opinions, and a collection of whimsical animals and eccentric tenants who make the estate feel unexpectedly alive.

As Miranda becomes entangled in the inheritance dispute, she finds herself drawn not only to the castle’s residents but to the man who may stand between her and her future. For the first time, she begins to imagine a life built on more than solitude.

But a faulty will and an incompetent solicitor threaten everything. Can Miranda claim the home — and the love — she’s always longed for, or will Nevermore slip away before she can truly belong?

Nevermore Castle. Healing hearts with humor.

Purchase Nevermore Castle paperback or ebook format on Amazon or read in Kindle Unlimited: https://a.co/d/03xq8OqO

By the same author: The Roses of Longbourn series:

A Rose Out of Time – Book 1

A Rose in Winter – Book 2

Mrs. Christie and the Misplaced Rose (A Short Story)

A Golden-Hearted Rose (A Short Story)

A Rake Redeemed, or The Gretna Rose (A Novella)

Truths and Roses (A Short Story)

Coming Soon:

A Rose at Dawn – Book 3

A Rose After Rain – Book 4

About the Author

KELLY BOGGS writes seasoned not spiced atmospheric fiction that blends historical charm, a touch of mystery, and warm, character driven storytelling. Whether her books wander through Cornwall’s windswept cliffs or the quiet corners of the Regency, she builds worlds where emotion, place, and personality intertwine. Her stories offer immersive escapes threaded with wit, whimsy, and a distinctly human heart.

Links:

Website: kellyboggsauthor.com

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/kellyboggs

Goodreads: Kelly Boggs (Author of A Rose Out of Time) | Goodreads

Facebook: (1) Facebook

Excerpt from Nevermore Castle

“Lance, my dear boy,” cried Crispin. “I have been staying at inns and having the most dreadful adventures. But is this the lovely lady, Miss Moreland?”

He swept forward and kissed Miranda on both cheeks, in the French fashion—much to her embarrassment. Fleur looked positively envious.

“You have the look of Sir Davian, indeed, my dear,” he said as he stepped back.

Miranda studied him. He must be fifty, she supposed, if he was a friend of Sir Davian’s youth.

He did not look fifty. Crispin Thatchbury carried himself with a trim, effortless poise. If there was any silver threaded among his perfect golden curls, Miranda could not see it. His eyes were bright and lively, taking in everything with amused intelligence. The bottle‑green coat, the immaculate cravat, the gleaming boots—none of it suggested a man worn down by travel. He looked, Miranda thought, like someone who had simply refused to grow older in the usual way.

Oh dear, she thought, imagining the effect his good looks and theatrical manner might have on a susceptible Fleur.

Mr. Thatchbury was still speaking, she realized.

“My dears, I have come at the request of His Royal Highness. I am to conduct interviews, examine papers, learn about the estate, and return with my findings. The Prince himself will make a determination in the matter of the entail and the inheritance, once he has heard my report.”

***

As the study door closed behind them, Lance glanced at Crispin. They’d exchanged letters for years but had met only rarely, London being as far away as it was. He had always struggled to reconcile Crispin’s theatrical persona with the sharp, incisive man revealed in his correspondence.

Which would he see now, he wondered.

He was not left in suspense for long. Once Crispin had been seated and handed a drink, he settled back in easy comfort, his performance apparently having been reserved for the ladies.

“My dear Lance, what a tangle you’ve found yourself in. You were wise to write.”

“Thank you. I hadn’t thought—didn’t imagine—”

“That I’d involve the Prince? Quite. But it was the sensible course. He remembers Davian with real affection, and he has the power to act.”

“It was good of you to speak with him. And to travel all this way yourself.”

“Naturally I would travel to the ends of the earth for poor Davian’s sake,” Crispin proclaimed, allowing his drawing room dramatics to resurface for a moment. “And one cannot ignore a royal decree—no matter the cost to one’s wardrobe.”

He flicked an imaginary speck of lint from one sleeve with a flourish that suggested he had practiced the gesture before a mirror.

Lance smiled. Crispin clearly did not wish to be thanked.

“But what am I to do, Crispin? This report you are to compile…”

“It’s not so much a report as an impression, my dear boy.” Crispin settled more comfortably into the chair, one ankle crossing elegantly over the other. “Having interested himself in the matter, the Prince is now fully invested, as is his way. He wants, not facts and figures, but a full description of the estate, the persons involved, and all that can be determined of Davian’s wishes. I am not to return until I can paint him a picture that will make him feel as though he himself had visited.”

“Oh, dear,” Lance said faintly, imagining Crispin tramping about the estate in glossy Hessians, encountering who‑knew‑what.

Crispin’s brows lifted. “My dear Lance, you look as though I’ve announced a siege.”

“It’s only—” Lance hesitated. “Nevermore is…not quite like other estates.”

Exotic Otter and a Missing Orphan

By Alina K. Field

On August 5, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

When his majesty the Prince Regent entrusted certain animals from the Royal Menagerie to deserving recipients, the Tattler never imagined any would come up missing. However, that appears to be the case for three exotic otters granted to an obscure baronet in Sussex, which have vanished along with the orphaned daughter of the house, Miss Georgiana Morland.

The latest news is that the otters have re-appeared in the custody of the Reverend Lord Peter Avondale – youngest of the scandalous Avondale brothers – but Miss Morland is nowhere to be found, only a young gentleman who claims to be the owner and has been seen by scarcely anyone in the rural village of Kilbythorpe.

Truly, it is a mystery where Miss Georgiana could have disappeared to, and why she would not claim the otters herself.

Otters and Obstacles

by Alexa Santi

Three mischievous otters, a sleepy village, and a lady in disguise. What could go wrong?

When Georgiana Morland’s cruel cousin sends her beloved pet otters away to what seems certain death, she has no choice but to pursue them… even if that means disguising herself as a young man for the journey.

In the charming Yorkshire village of Kilbythorpe, the Reverend Lord Peter Avondale knows he only has one chance to salvage his damaged ecclesiastical career, or be forced to leave the work he loves behind forever. All he needs to do is be less impulsive. How hard can it be?

The arrival of three mischievous otters, followed by a mysterious young man who claims to be their keeper, upends Peter’s peaceful exile. The revelation that the “young man” Peter invited to stay with him is a respectable young woman leaves them with only one option: marriage.

As scandal looms and the Ladies’ Auxiliary meddles, Peter begins to fear he will lose the only thing he loves more than his career: Georgie.

Excerpt

A crash rang through the hallway outside his study, and loud voices caused him to rise from his desk and cross to the door to open it. His housekeeper, Mrs. Barwick, seemed to be trying to push a young man holding a large basket out the front door, and the young man pushed back, shoving his foot into the door to prevent her from closing it.

“What’s all the racket?” Peter asked, and Mrs. Barwick whirled on him. The young man took the opportunity to slip through the half-open door and stand in the hallway with the basket balanced on one hip, snatching his cap off as he did so.

“Oh! I’m that sorry to disturb you, Lord Peter, but this young ruffian is trying to deliver something that don’t belong here.”

As the racket died down, Peter realized the basket was… squeaking.

He looked from the basket to the impassive young man holding it, and back to the basket.

The squeaking intensified, and the basket began to vibrate.

“Ain’t you Mr. Sloane? I was told Mr. Sloane lived here,” the young man said.

“I’m afraid a mistake has been made,” Peter said. “The Reverend Mr. Sloane has retired to Brighton.”

Peter’s eldest brother, the Duke of Livesey, had provided Mr. Sloane with a handsome pension to clear the way for Peter to take over the living here as a glorified curate, with Mr. Sloane nominally keeping his title as rector of the parish. After a few necessary improvements had been completed, Peter had finished the process of unpacking and re-organizing the rectory only a few weeks ago, having removed what seemed like dozens of small animals posed under glass from every corner of the cottage to the attic so he could rest without reproachful eyes watching his every move.

And now he was receiving live animals in their stead.

The boy shrugged. “That ain’t my concern, vicar. I was told to deliver these here, and I ain’t got the funds to go haring across the country. They’re yours now.”

He set the basket on the floor and legged it out the front door, ducking under the housekeeper’s attempt at restraint and fleeing down the walkway as Peter and Mrs. Barwick went in fruitless pursuit.

For one moment, the young man paused and shouted over his shoulder, “They like a bit o’ fish!” before continuing down the lane towards the village and vanishing from sight.

Buy Link: https://Books2Read.com/OttersAndObstacles

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A Most Unsuitable Match

By Alina K. Field

On July 25, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Reader,

Could it be that one of the most eligible bachelors in England has been snared by an Irish upstart? Word has been received that Viscount B, a most staid young man, is wooing a young lady who is rumored to be the daughter of an Irish earl. One wonders what he can be thinking to pursue such an unsuitable match.

As no one in the ton knows much about the lady (if she truly is a lady) or her family, the Tattler’s intrepid reporters are looking into the matter. We have learned that the lady is quite on her own, impoverished, orphaned and lacking any family of influence. Worse, in these times of great unrest, there is some murkiness about the family’s loyalty to King and Country.

It must be mentioned that Lord B is an heir to Lord S, whose work for the Crown during our recent wars is whispered about. Surely the heir to such an estimable peer would not consort with one of England’s enemies?

Rest assured that your Teatime Tattler is pursuing this story.

The Viscount’s Seduction

Book Two, Sons of the Spy Lord

Searching for the Truth

Lady Sirena Hollister has lost her family, her home, and even her fey abilities, but somehow the fairies have handed her an unexpected chance at a Season in London. From her place on the fringes of high society, she resolves to find the truth about her only brother’s vanishing, and settle her family’s score with the wily English Spy Lord, the Earl of Shaldon. Soon enough, her schemes stir up an unknown enemy…and spark danger of a different sort, in the person of the Earl’s handsome heir, Viscount Bakeley.

Seducing the Beauty

The impertinent hoyden Bakeley met years earlier was as wild as her Irish roots, and just as unlucky. And she’s still an Irish traitor’s sister! But Lady Sirena has grown into a beauty whose charm and courage intrigue him. When danger threatens, Bakeley comes to her rescue, risking scandal, the ton’s disapproval, his interfering father’s ire…and his own heart.

If you like your historical romance filled with exciting twist and turns, buy your copy today! Only 99 cents through July 31st.

The Viscount’s Seduction, Book Two of the Sons of the Spy Lord Series, is a stand-alone romance.

Buy Link: https://books2read.com/TheViscountsSeduction

About the Author:

USA Today bestselling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California and hasn’t looked back. She shares her home with a rescued and not too yippy chihuahua, and entertains grandkids as often as possible.

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Lady Smuggler Saved by Handsome Nobleman

By Barbara Monajem

On July 18, 2026

In Barbara Monajem, Historical Period, Regency (19th century Britain), Teatime Tattler

Our intrepid reporter informs us that a young French lady, who recently escaped the guillotine and now lives in Sussex, was caught signaling to smugglers. She was about to be dragged to the lockup by the excisemen when a well-known young nobleman suddenly claimed her as his affianced wife.

Scandalous indeed, but it can be difficult and dangerous to gainsay a nobleman (who, we assume, was in the grasp of foolish lust). However, there’s worse: for the lady was overheard to say she doesn’t want to marry the nobleman at all!

Why, you ask? We don’t know the answer. But what we do know is that a French spy is working on the Sussex coast, sending information to France via the smugglers—the selfsame smuggling gang to which the young lady belongs.

Will she escape her just desserts? Draw your own conclusions…

To make her way in England, French refugee Noelle de Vallon becomes a smuggler. Richard, Lord Boltwood, saves her from arrest, but she cannot trust him. He already broke her heart once. Never again.

Richard is tasked with a mission: to catch a spy. Noelle is the prime suspect. How can he catch the real culprit while protecting the lady who stole his heart and won’t forgive him for breaking hers?

The Smuggler’s Escape is only 99 cents on Amazon for the month of July!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPBGSN1T/

https://books2read.com/u/4X7dgL

www.BarbaraMonajem.com