About Jina Bacarr
I discovered early on that I inherited the gift of the gab from my large Irish family when I penned a story about a princess who ran away to Paris with her pet turtle Lulu. I was twelve.
I grew up listening to their wild, outlandish tales and it was those early years of storytelling that led to my love of history and traveling.
I enjoy writing to classical music with a hot cup of java by my side. I adore dark chocolate truffles, vintage anything, the smell of bread baking and rainy days in museums. I’ve always loved walking through history—from Pompeii to Verdun to Old Paris. The voices of the past speak to me through carriages with cracked leather seats, stiff ivory-colored crinolines, and worn satin slippers. I’ve always wondered what it was like to walk in those slippers when they were new.
You can follow Jina on social media:
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Pinterest
Goodreads
Bookbub
Jina also has a column here on the 11th of every month: Jina’s Book Chat.
A Few of Jina’s Other Books
About Jina Bacarr
I discovered early on that I inherited the gift of the gab from my large Irish family when I penned a story about a princess who ran away to Paris with her pet turtle Lulu. I was twelve.
I grew up listening to their wild, outlandish tales and it was those early years of storytelling that led to my love of history and traveling.
I enjoy writing to classical music with a hot cup of java by my side. I adore dark chocolate truffles, vintage anything, the smell of bread baking and rainy days in museums. I’ve always loved walking through history—from Pompeii to Verdun to Old Paris. The voices of the past speak to me through carriages with cracked leather seats, stiff ivory-colored crinolines, and worn satin slippers. I’ve always wondered what it was like to walk in those slippers when they were new.
You can follow Jina on social media:
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Pinterest
Goodreads
Bookbub
Jina also has a column here on the 11th of every month: Jina’s Book Chat.
A Few of Jina’s Other Books
About Jina Bacarr
I discovered early on that I inherited the gift of the gab from my large Irish family when I penned a story about a princess who ran away to Paris with her pet turtle Lulu. I was twelve.
I grew up listening to their wild, outlandish tales and it was those early years of storytelling that led to my love of history and traveling.
I enjoy writing to classical music with a hot cup of java by my side. I adore dark chocolate truffles, vintage anything, the smell of bread baking and rainy days in museums. I’ve always loved walking through history—from Pompeii to Verdun to Old Paris. The voices of the past speak to me through carriages with cracked leather seats, stiff ivory-colored crinolines, and worn satin slippers. I’ve always wondered what it was like to walk in those slippers when they were new.
You can follow Jina on social media:
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Pinterest
Goodreads
Bookbub
Jina also has a column here on the 11th of every month: Jina’s Book Chat.
A Few of Jina’s Other Books
“Full of all the swoons, a dash of mystery, and punches of humor, you are going to fall head over heels with Neanderthal Seeks Duchess.” – Catherine Cowles, author of Tattered Stars
There are three things you need to know about Lady Jane Morrison:
After scandalous events during the London season, Lady Jane is attracting the wrong kind of attention. Her reputation is at risk as well as all her carefully laid plans for the future. And for better or worse, a chance encounter with a mysterious lord sets forth a series of events that will change their lives forever.
‘Neanderthal Seeks Duchess’, a Penny Reid Universe Reimagining, is a full-length historical romance, can be read as a standalone, and is book #1 in the London Ladies Embroidery series, Smartypants Romance Out of this World, Penny Reid Book Universe.
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3h0HoOb
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/3ByTl7t
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/3I0hWo6
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/3H4csre
Amazon Print: https://amzn.to/3FhHTi9
Audiobook: Coming this summer!
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/33Yj8cQ
“You desire the life of a spy then?” I could tell he was teasing, but it didn’t seem the mean sort of mocking I was so often accustomed to.
“Oh, of course. I am definitely spy material. I’m sure the War Office will come calling any day now,” I managed to tease back, indulging in a mirthful laugh. Were we having a flirtation? I wondered if I was doing it right.
I was suddenly struck with a bout of nerves. I didn’t know how to carry on a flirtation with a man. Being with John didn’t require flirting on my part. We simply conversed. I never made a concentrated effort to amuse John and be amused in return. Coy and coquettish were more in line with Cassandra and her interactions in a ballroom. She laughed loudly and often, usually flapping her eyelashes in a pleasing manner. Lords were simply drawn to her. Now that I considered it, it was likely just her outgoing personality. I was… not like that.
This bantering, the back-and-forth with Q in the garden, was multifaceted. I warred between self-consciousness and butterflies erupting behind my sternum.
His eyebrows remained amused and my pulse leaped once more. “Well, I hope the crown doesn’t steal you away just yet.” Warmth pooled low in my belly at Q’s admiring look. Those butterflies were approaching maximum velocity.
In a show of sheer survival instinct, I straightened on the bench. “I should probably get back to work.”
Q’s gaze was questioning. Perhaps signs of self-preservation weren’t evident in my expression, but I felt certain he could read some inner turmoil there. Q stood slowly and held out an arm. “I’ll escort you back to the library, if that’s all right?”
I nodded and felt grateful I hadn’t ruined our time together with my abrupt decision to depart. These feelings were so new and utterly overwhelming.
We made our way along the gravel path, through the kitchens, and up the service staircase in quiet contemplation before emerging in the long hallway of the third floor. His heat and nearness were addicting. The simple act of walking by his side was fraught with tension—the good kind. The best kind.
“Perhaps you could enjoy a picnic in the gardens another day. I could let Betty know in advance and she could pack a few items for you. So you wouldn’t feel like an imposition,” Q said as he slowed our progress outside the library doorway.
I appreciated his consideration for my concerns and for Mrs. Hooper’s time and energy. “If it’s not too much trouble, that sounds lovely. Thank you.” Genuine pleasure sufficed my demeanor, chasing away my previous doubts.
“And perhaps I could join you.” At these quietly uttered words, my head snapped up abruptly to meet Lord Dashing’s patented intense stare. “If that’s agreeable, that is,” he murmured, seemingly unsure of his welcome.
I smiled then. Full and wide. I often had difficulty interpreting the reactions of others, their hidden smiles and secretive expressions. Conversing with nobility was often an exercise in subterfuge and subtlety. Both elements I struggled with and didn’t see the need for. I preferred honesty and directness. Therefore, I wanted Q to read the authenticity in my smile when I replied, “I’d like that very much.”
Lord Dashing escorted me the remaining distance to the library before lifting my hand from his arm. I assumed he’d simply deposit me at my desk and be on his way, but he lingered. Twining our fingers together, Q raised my hand to his lips. Slowly and quite deliberately, he rotated my hand and placed a kiss on the inside of my wrist just beyond the fabric of my kid gloves. The heat from his mouth was deliciously obscene and I felt my breath stutter on an inhale. I should have been shocked by his behavior and scandalized by his forwardness. And yet… All I could muster was a sense of regret that I’d cut our afternoon short in a moment of weakness.
Eyes locked, Q pulled away from my skin. Lowering my hand to my side, he retreated a pace before turning slowly and exiting the room. I stood frozen in place, staring after his departed form. With my opposite hand covering my inner wrist, I could feel the heat from his scandalous touch and sought to trap it within.
What was happening?
I spent the afternoon mostly absorbed by the ledgers lining my desk, but couldn’t help but allow my attention to stray to the gardens a time or two, remembering the sun on my face, the man at my side, and the butterflies wreaking havoc on my carefully laid plans.
Laney Hatcher is a firm believer that there is a spreadsheet for every occasion and pie is always the answer. She is an author of stories that have a past, in a language of love that’s universal. Often too practical for her own good, Laney enjoys her life in the southern United States with her husband, children, and incredibly entitled cat.
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Brandon Brothers, Book 1
Historical Romance, Historical Fiction
Date Published: April 2021
Meet Adam Brandon … acutely intelligent and master-swordsman but gradually realising that he isn’t yet ready for the future he had previously planned.
Victim of a cruel deception, Camilla Edgerton-Foxe has a jaundiced view of the male sex and a tongue as sharp as her wits … but she also possesses an extraordinary talent.
A peculiar encounter offers Adam the kind of employment for which he is uniquely suited and which will exercise his mind as well as his muscles. The fly in the ointment is that Miss Edgerton-Foxe comes with it … as does
Rainham, viscount and master of disguise, with a frequently misplaced sense of humour.
From Paris, via London, to the mists and mysteries of Romney Marsh, these three are sent on the trail of something darker and infinitely more dangerous than the kegs of brandy that come ashore at the dark of the moon.
Other books in the Brandon Brothers Series
A Trick of Fate
Brandon Brothers Book 1
B.R.A.G. Medallion honoree.
Max Brandon is receiving bills for services he never ordered and goods he did not buy. For reasons he can’t begin to guess, someone is ‘borrowing’ his identity to cause him maximum annoyance.
When the games move closer to home, almost forcing him to fight a duel … more particularly, when they draw in Frances Pendleton, a lady he never expected to see again … Max vows to catch the man behind them, no matter
what the cost.
The result is a haphazard chase involving ruined abbeys, a hunt for hermits, a grotesque portrait … and a love story which, but for this odd trick of fate, might never have been given a second chance.
About the Author
Stella Riley is a British writer, living in Kent. She is the author of six
novels set in and around the English Civil Wars and the award-winning seven book Rockliffe Series – of which, Book Six, Cadenza, was the 2019 Readers’ Favourite for Romance and a 2021 Book Excellence award winner.
Under A Dark Moon is the second book in her Brandon Brothers Trilogy,
sequel to A Trick of Fate.
When not writing, she enjoys theatre, travel and playing the harpsichord.
Contact Links
Purchase Links
CHAPTER ONE
Within twenty minutes of bidding his friends good night and leaving the tavern, Adam Brandon became aware that he was being followed. This was annoying on several counts. He had no idea who would go to the trouble of setting a tail on him or why they would since, just at the moment, he didn’t imagine he could be of any particular interest to anyone. Admittedly, that wasn’t always true … but right now it was. Then there was the possibility that this wasn’t the first time someone had dogged his steps; that it had happened before and he hadn’t no noticed. That pricked his pride. He’d thought himself better than that.
He continued on his way without altering his pace. He considered luring the tail into a dark alley where he could be grabbed, pinned to a wall and questioned. It wouldn’t be very difficult. On the other hand, it might be premature. There was a chance, however small, that he was merely being followed by the only footpad in Paris stupid enough to tackle an armed man for the sake of a few coins. And that being so, the sensible course was to simply stroll onwards, taking a few sudden detours, to see if the fellow stuck with him.
He did … and was still there when Adam reached his lodgings on the Rue des Minimes. With a brief nod for the concierge, he ran swiftly upstairs to the nearest window and was just in time to see his follower raise a hand as if signalling to someone before melting into the shadows on the far side of the street.
Not a footpad, thought Adam with a sort of amused grimness. And not alone. What, then? And why? What possible reason could anyone have for wanting to know my every move? But whoever it is, they’re making a mistake because now I’ll have to do something about it. And that’s just tiresome.
A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
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More info →A Slice of Orange is an affiliate with some of the booksellers listed on this website, including Barnes & Nobel, Books A Million, iBooks, Kobo, and Smashwords. This means A Slice of Orange may earn a small advertising fee from sales made through the links used on this website. There are reminders of these affiliate links on the pages for individual books.
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