Showing posts with label Amanda Scott. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amanda Scott. Show all posts

Monday, March 30, 2015

She'd bewitched him: Devil's Moon

DEVIL’S MOON
a Border Nights novel
by Amanda Scott
a Historical Romance
from Forever

Synopsis

A WARRIOR'S PROMISE
 
The last place Sir David "Devil" Ormiston expected his moonlight chase of a horse thief to end was in a lady's bedchamber. He is shocked to find that the raider he has pursued is no man, but a defiant beauty in disguise-and the woman he's vowed to protect at all costs. Face to face with a girl Dev thought he knew, the ever confident, marriage-resistant knight may learn that he is defenseless against the desirable woman she has become.
 
A LADY'S SECRET
 
Lady Robina Gledstanes will do anything to keep her family's land out of the hands of her greedy kinsmen-except willingly submit to the handsome, cocksure Devil Ormiston. Dev's help may be just as dangerous as the threats lurking outside her castle. But when enemies scheme to steal the castle's treasure, Robina must risk losing something even more precious-her heart.
 

EXCERPT
Watching Dev, Robina was grateful for his restraint. They reached the graveyard soon afterward and dismounted to look at the grave. She sensed Rab’s presence strongly as they stood there, but he kept silent, too.
“What is it, Robby? Art sad again?”
Startled, she said, “Not sad, just pensive.”
“I think you have been pensive since I arrived, or longer,” he said. “Keeping secrets, or thinking about Rab?”
Uncertain how to reply, since the truth was unacceptable, she realized that silence was just as bad. Dev would surely suspect that she was keeping something from him.
She would have liked to tell him about the jar of coins, but Rab’s warning was sensible. And, in truth, whether Dev was currently master of Coklaw or not, the money belonged to Benjy, not to Dev.
The thought was disheartening, and she wished Rab would recall that he had trusted Dev. Confiding in him should be not only safe but sensible.
Rab, however, remained as silent as his grave.
“We should head back down,” she said with a sigh.
“Keeping secrets then,” Dev said grimly. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Oh, Dev, no, don’t think that,” she said, putting a hand to his arm, shocked that he had so nearly guessed her thoughts. “I know I’ve been a bit difficult, but—” Breaking off when he grinned, she said bluntly, “Do you think that was funny?”
He shook his head and bit his lower lip.
“Damnation, David Ormiston, do you dare to laugh at me now?”
“Nay, nay, I’m striving mightily not to laugh or to say what I’m thinking.”
“Just what were you thinking?”
“That when you refuse to tell me what you are thinking and then say that I’m mistaken to suspect a lack of trust, you make me want to kiss you one minute and put you over my knee the next. But, by heaven, if you swear at me again, I’ll—”
“I won’t swear,” she said hastily. “But neither will I tell you all I think. Some things are still private, sir, one’s thoughts especially so. But if you want to kiss me again,” she added, feeling suddenly and strangely shy but determined, “you may.”
“May I?” He raised his eyebrows. “I will admit that I enjoyed your kiss when we were here before. But others would say that I’d taken advantage of you.”
“They would be wrong,” Robina said. “I kissed you first. I wanted to know how it would feel, and now I want to know if it feels the same way whenever one kisses a man. I do trust you with my virtue, Dev.”
“Do you, Robby? You should not be so trusting. Sithee, I’m not certain I can trust myself. You’re a mighty tempting wench. But there are rules.”
“Bother the rules,” she said. “Do you not want to kiss me?”
“Aye, sure, I do,” he responded, pulling her roughly into his arms.
Uncertain now, but curious, she looked up and tried to gauge his mood. But he allowed her no time for that before his lips claimed hers, hot and demanding.
As he held her close, she heard him moan quietly in his throat.
***
Dev heard his moan, too, and realized that she had bewitched him. He wanted her in every way—other than marriage, of course, he reminded himself brutally. He suspected, though, that her invitation had just been an attempt to avoid answering his question about the secrets she was keeping from him.
The pliskie lass needed a lesson, and he needed release for his own emotions or whatever it was that enflamed his body, if only to show her the dangers of tormenting men … one man, at least.
Thrusting his tongue into her mouth and finding it hot inside and yet softly yielding, he pressed his lower body tightly against hers, letting her feel his desire.
She was too short, but a flat-topped boulder sat nearby. Without warning or sign, he lifted her to stand on it and did so without releasing her mouth.
For once in her life, she did not fight him but wrapped her arms around him and held him as tightly as he held her.

 
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About Amanda Scott:
Amanda Scott is the author of over 62 romance novels and the recipient of the Romance Writers of America's prestigious RITA Award.  She lives in Folsom, California, outside of Sacramento.  She is a fourth-generation Californian. 

Amanda's SM:


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Wednesday, October 1, 2014

A true mistress of the Scottish romance


MOONLIGHT RAIDER
a Border Nights novel
by Amanda Scott
a Historical Romance
 
 
 
Blurb
A MAN OF HIS WORD
Border lord Walter Scott of Rankilburn, grief-stricken after burying his father, goes to the forest seeking solace. Instead he finds a half-naked young lady fleeing pursuit. Wat offers his protection, but honor demands that he return the golden-eyed beauty to her rightful husband-even though the last thing he wants is to see her in another man's arms.

A RUNAWAY BRIDE
Molly Cockburn has fled her home, family, and the brutal scoundrel she was forced to wed. Her pursuers are closing in when the powerful new Lord of Rankilburn bravely intervenes, then promises to help prove her marriage unlawful. Though fiercely loyal to her family, Molly fears they might harm the man she is coming to love, and now she must decide whether to remain faithful to her blood . . . or to her heart.
 

EXCERPT

Without thinking, she put a hand to his arm, noting how hard his muscles were as she looked into his eyes said with deep sincerity, “I’m sorry I frightened you. I don’t think clearly when I’m angry. In troth, I fear that whenever my temper gets the better of me, I do try to get away, but only to try and calm myself. Losing my temper has often …”
She paused when his expression altered rather strangely.
“You should not look at a man like that unless you want him to kiss you,” he said softly.
“But I do,” she replied honestly and without hesitation. “No man has kissed me since my granddad died, and I think I would like you to, if you don’t mind.”
***
A voice deep within Wat shouted a warning of where such a kiss might lead, but he ignored it, cupping her chin again with one hand while he drew her closer with the other. Then, gently and ever so slowly, savoring the moment for himself, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.
Her rosy lips were feather soft and warm against his own. Her slender body snuggled against his and seemed to fit there unusually well. When she moved her lips beneath his, kissing him back, he shifted the hand that had cupped her chin to cradle her head beneath her veil, marveling at the soft silkiness of her hair.
She moved her lips as if to taste different parts of his, and another part of his body stirred strongly in response.
The urge to take her then and there was nearly overpowered him, and as much to distract himself from that dangerous urge as to answer the invitation her lips were offering, he pressed his tongue between them and began to explore the intriguing, moist interior of her mouth.
She gave a gasp, then seemed to stop breathing. But when he continued his exploration undaunted, she inhaled with a moan and touched her tongue to his.
Her breath was whisper soft and clean, and her breasts pressed against him, tantalizing him and making his fingers itch to stroke them. That thought provided stronger warning than the voice in his head that he was treading dangerous ground.
Remembering his vow to protect her but wise enough not to break their embrace too abruptly, he eased his tongue from her mouth. Then he kissed her more lightly on the lips and again on her forehead.
“We must go back, lass. I should not have done that, but I’m not sorry I did.”
We did it, sir,” she said, looking solemnly into his eyes. “Faith, I invited it.”
He shook his head at her. “Believe me, if my father were still alive, and I were to tell him exactly how it happened, he would have much to say to me, none of which I would want to hear. But I’d deserve every word.”
“Sadly, he is not here to scold you,” she said.
“Aye, but Westruther will give me an earful if he hears about it. You are an inexperienced maiden who was naturally curious, whilst I am …”
“… much experienced at such things?” she said for him when he paused.
“More experienced than you, I’d wager,” he said with a sudden grin. “But we are not going to discuss my experience, now or ever, my lass.”
 
 
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About Amanda Scott

Amanda Scott is the author of over 61 romance novels and the recipient of the Romance Writers of America's prestigious RITA Award.  She lives in Folsom, California, outside of Sacramento.  She is a fourth-generation Californian. 
 
Amanda’s social media

 
 

Tourwide Giveaway

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway