Barbara has some wonderful prizes to give away during the tour. Please be sure to enter with the Rafflecopter below. Be sure to enter every day for your chance to win. You may find all the blog tour locations here.
About
The Redemption of the Shrew
Nothing
is more painful than rejection—particularly when completely naked!
Gloriana
Warren doesn’t want to wait for marriage. Beneath her shrewish
exterior is a kindhearted woman who uses her fortune for good. It
doesn’t matter that the man she’s set her sights on claims
impoverishment. She’s in love and determined to marry him. But her
attempt at a moonlight seduction ends in disaster.
French
marquis Philippe de Bellechasse has had it up to his gorgeous dark
eyes with being pursued by lusty ladies. His escape to England from
the violence of the French Revolution took a toll on his finances as
well. Gloriana may be gloriously naked, but he’s just not ready to
submit to her seduction.
But
when a precious family artifact is stolen, Philippe must convince
Gloriana he’s not the guilty party. He’ll steal it back for her,
but on his terms. Gloriana, believing he despises her, has plans of
her own. Working at odds is dangerous, but working together can be
more so. Is Philippe willing to risk his heart again for a
deliciously tempting shrew?
Excerpt
A
clandestine meeting, particularly where nakedness is involved, is
best arranged for a moonless night.
Or
so Gloriana Warren told herself, for her mother would never have
uttered such a scandalous dictum. Unfortunately, it was tonight or
never. Tomorrow, the man she had sworn to love forever would leave
Lancashire and return to London—without her. They wouldn’t be
able to marry for years because of his stupid scruples about money.
Men
and their tedious pride! She and the Marquis de Bellechasse loved one
another. They shared the same lofty ideals. She had a substantial
dowry. Marrying now made sense. Not only that, her mother would die
happy.
So
Gloriana was taking matters into her own hands. She had planned the
upcoming encounter in glorious detail—every word, every gesture. As
she emerged from the summerhouse to greet him, he would stand and
stare at her, transfixed by her beauty.
“Darling
Philippe,” she would say, reaching for him, offering herself
without reserve. “Love is eternal. It cannot, must not be denied!”
“Ah,
ma belle,” he would respond, his hand on his heart, his voice
throbbing with desire. “I adore you. What a fool I was to think we
could wait for years. Even another minute is too long. Tonight, I
shall make you mine!”
She
would fling herself into his waiting arms, swept away on the tide of
his passion.
She
wasn’t sure exactly how it would go after that, apart from plenty
of kissing, but judging by her previous experience of Philippe’s
kisses, it would be the most thrilling experience of her life.
She
sneaked out the French doors, arms full of blankets, and glanced back
up at Garrison House. Not a glimmer of candlelight showed in the
windows. She hurried through the rose garden and skirted the lawn,
keeping to the bushes and out of the moonlight. In the secret room
under the summerhouse, she and her darling Philippe would be safe.
Tomorrow they would announce their engagement to Mama. They would
send for a special license and be married within a week.
Ten
minutes later, she had set up a makeshift bed under the summerhouse
and removed all her clothes. Shivering more from excitement than from
the chilly night
air,
she waited for Philippe to arrive.
Tonight
would be the most perfect night of her life.
~~~
The
Marquis de Bellechasse left his horse in a convenient copse and made
his careful way forward, pausing at the edge of the trees. Garrison
House was reassuringly dark, but moonlight reflected off the ripples
on the lake. The summerhouse gleamed white on its little knoll,
exposed on all sides. He paused, listening. No sound disturbed the
darkness except a nightjar complaining from a nearby oak. He hoped
and prayed no one else was up and about tonight. He couldn’t afford
to get caught with Gloriana Warren, but nor could he bring himself to
ignore her passionate plea to see him once more before they parted.
He
loved her—to the point of folly, judging by his current behavior.
He had already said farewell, and yet here he was, trespassing on her
brother’s estate at midnight to say it again. He dreaded her
inevitable tears.
The
door to the summerhouse stood wide open, which meant Gloriana was
here already. Fine. Best to get it over with now. He took a deep
breath and set out across the lawn.
He
had almost reached the doorway when she came into view, rising from
out of nowhere, her face pale, her hair loose around her bare
shoulders. He halted, staring, his heart thundering. She continued to
rise, her breasts round and luscious in the light of the moon. His
eyes slid helplessly down the curve of her hips to the darker patch
at the apex of her thighs . . .
Mordieu.
He shook his head and began to back away. “No, chérie. We must not
do this.”
She
set her feet on the floor—she must have emerged from a trapdoor—and
beckoned with those sweet arms, smiled with those lush lips.
“Philippe, my darling, please come to me. I love you so much.”
“No,
ma belle, I cannot.”
“But
love—” She faltered, then continued toward him, arms wide. “Love
is eternal. It must not be denied.”
Sacrebleu,
she was declaiming like a shoddy actress on the stage. The thought
revolted him. Surely his idealistic Gloriana could not cheapen
herself so. Anguished, he put up his hands to fend her off. “It is
not possible, Gloriana. Not yet. It would not be right.”
She
hurried forward, her breasts jiggling enticingly. “Truly, we
mustn’t delay. My mother may not have long to live, and seeing me
married well is her dearest wish.”
He
didn’t care in the least about old Lady Garrison, who was the worst
sort of snob. He shook his head. “No. To wait is best.”
“Philippe,
I cannot wait. I need you now.” She reached for him, her nakedness
inches away.
He
gritted his teeth and took another step backwards. His imbecile cock
was reacting to her, but he had long ago gained control over its
demands. “I am sorry, but I must go.” He turned away.
She
wailed, a sharp, keening sound, and immediately a shout came from
nearby. Her brother? No, he was in London. A gamekeeper?
Whoever
the man might be, he was lurking here on purpose. So much for love,
Philippe thought. Gloriana was just another lust-crazed woman trying
to trap him into marriage. He turned and ran. Pursued by shouts and
then shots, he reached his horse and galloped away.
About
the Author
Winner of the Holt Medallion, Maggie, Daphne du Maurier, Reviewer’s Choice and Epic awards, Barbara Monajem wrote her first story at eight years old about apple tree gnomes. She published a middle-grade fantasy when her children were young, then moved on to paranormal mysteries and Regency romances with intrepid heroines and long-suffering heroes (or vice versa).
Barbara
loves to cook, especially soups. She used to have two items on her
bucket list: to make asparagus pudding and succeed at knitting socks.
Asparagus pudding proved to be pretty horrible, and she is too
fumble-fingered to make socks. Now she just sticks with writing
books. She lives near Atlanta, Georgia with an ever-shifting
population of relatives, friends, and feline strays.
Social
Links
-
Facebook: facebook.com/barbara.monajem
-
Twitter: twitter.com/BarbaraMonajem
-
Website: BarbaraMonajem.com
Use the Rafflecopter below to enter Barbara's drawing.
Increase your odds of winning by visiting her other tour stops:
https://reviewsbycacb.blogspot.com/p/blog-tour-barbara-monajem.html
a Rafflecopter giveaway
