Let him wonder – #EroticRomance #Steampunk #MFRWBookHooks

It’s hard to believe it’s Wednesday already, and time for another Book Hooks blog hop!

One of my New Year’s plans – I won’t call them resolutions because that generates too much pressure – is to create print versions of my other novels during 2026. (Only three are in print now: Raw Silk, Incognito and Rajasthani Moon.) I will start with my steam punk trilogy The Toymakers Guild, which are among my most popular titles.

In preparation (hah!), I thought I’d share a bit from Book 2, The Journeyman’s Trial, for today’s event. Enjoy!

Blurb

If she builds it, will they come?

Technically brilliant and thoroughly wanton, Gillian Smith has found her vocation: designing innovative erotic devices for the Toymakers Guild. Lust is a lubricant to creativity at Randerley Hall. But what happens when two Toymakers fall in love?

The Hook

After cleaning up the remains of breakfast and thoroughly extinguishing the fire, they went out to the shed where he’d secured the horses. Somehow she wasn’t surprised to find the interior far less ramshackle than it looked from outside. Samson and Dorothea wore thick blankets and had boxes full of fresh hay and pails of fresh water. They pranced and snorted as Rafe saddled them, their breath making white clouds in the cold air.

He led Dorothea over to a strategically placed boulder, then handed Gillian the reins. “Can you mount her by yourself?” he asked. “I’ll be right back.” With the extra boost of height offered by the rock, she was able to reach the stirrup with her left foot, then swing her right leg over the mare’s back. She settled into the saddle. Though she was somewhat stiff from the previous day’s ride, the position felt more familiar and comfortable then she might have expected.

Meanwhile, Rafe disappeared back into the cottage. Perched on her horse, she gazed out over the empty moors, back in the direction of Randerley. Her own breath emerged in feathery puffs of condensation. The sky was a blue bowl overhead. There was no sign of any other human habitation. They might have been the only people in the world.

A lonely spot, Gillian thought. Anything could happen here. No one would ever know. A little shiver crawled up her spine. She drew her scarf tighter, trying to convince herself that the wintery temperature was responsible.

With a bit of a clatter, Rafe emerged, a leather sack thrown over his shoulder. He fastened the padlock, then tugged to make sure it was secure. It took mere moments for him to attach his bag to the saddle, then spring onto Samson’s back. Sweeping his hair back with his long fingers, he gazed at her with clear approval. “Ready?”

Gillian nodded, stroking Dorothea’s grey coat then gathering the reins. He led the way across the trackless moors, starting with a walk then switching to an easy canter as their mounts warmed up. Though likely colder than it had been the previous afternoon, the air was still. The crisp clarity of the morning brought out the subtle colours of the moorland shrubs and grasses. A flock of grouse erupted from a clot of bushes as the horses passed. Glancing up, she caught sight of a hawk wheeling above them. Despite her curiosity and frustration, her spirits soared as well.

At the spot where the rudimentary trail began, Rafe drew up his horse to wait for her. “How are you managing?” he asked. “Are you sore from yesterday?”

“A bit,” she replied. “But hardly anything to complain of. I believe I’m starting to get the hang of this.”

“Well, then. I’ll race you back to Randerley! Gi’yup!” He dug his heels into Samson’s flanks and the stallion took off like a shot.

“Wait!” Gillian cried. “I don’t—” But he was already fifty feet ahead of her, well out of earshot. “Bloody hell!” She snapped the reins against the mare’s neck. “Come on, girl! Go!”

Dorothea broke into a smooth gallop, chasing Rafe and his stallion. Gillian flattened herself against the horse’s mane, letting her have control. The fleet-footed mare dashed across the uneven terrain, her hooves beating against the half-frozen earth. Wind whistled in Gillian’s ears and whipped her hair into her eyes. Her heart thundered in her chest as she and her mount gradually gained ground. The speed was intoxicating; she and the mare both craved more. When they swept past the black horse and his black-clad, black-haired rider, Gillian laughed aloud.

She had a good twenty yards on him now, though he was catching up. Soon they were tearing along, neck-and-neck, urging their respective horses to go faster still.

She and Dorothea both recognised the dirt path that would lead to the road. She pulled ahead of Rafe, ready for a last sprint up to Randerley’s gates. She had no idea of the prize, but she was determined to win this race.

In the end, however, they pulled up to the mansion’s portico at the very same instant, their horses lathered and labouring for breath. Gillian managed to dismount without assistance. “Nice work, girl,” she murmured, patting the mare’s sleek coat. Dorothea whinnied and pressed her soft nose against Gillian’s neck.

Rafe slid from the saddle with the ease of long practise. “Jolly well done, Jill!” he cried, clapping her on the shoulder. “We’ll make a horsewoman of you yet.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips against her cheek. The gesture took a mere instant but left a hot brand on her skin.

“You get inside where it’s warm. I’ll settle Samson and Dorothea.”

“Wait – Rafe!” She snagged him by the sleeve. He paused, his dark eyes searching her face.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

What indeed? Questions crowded her mind. Emotions clashed in her breast, clamouring for recognition. She needed time to sort it all out.

“Thank you,” she said finally. For what? She really wasn’t sure herself. Releasing his arm, she turned her back and headed up the steps. Let him wonder.

Find the links (ebook and audio) on my website: https://www.lisabetsarai.com/journeymanstrialbook.html

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book Hooks!

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