Smitten by Books

Today on Excerpts Thursdays, we have two books I’m greatly anticipating. And just look, aren’t the covers for both absolutely GORGEOUS covers? Talk about the love of the cover gods. I don’t know about you guys, but I was completely hooked by both excerpts. These books will definitely jump to the top of my TBR pile. 🙂

Remember, The Season website now has Free Reads, which is a wonderful way to sample an author.

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All Night With A Rogue ~ Alexandra Hawkins
Release Date: February 2, 2010 ~ St. Martin’s Press

Juliana bit her lips to suppress her soft groan.  Her legs instinctively tightened around the trunk of the hazel tree, pressing the hard roughened surface against her feminine core.  In spite of the coolness of the evening, she felt hot and light-headed.  If she did not calm her rattled nerves, she was going to do something to give herself away like fainting and falling out of the cursed tree!

In an agitated gesture, she dragged her hand from her hair, causing the unexpected to happen.  One of the tiny white plumes tucked into her upswept tresses slipped free.  Without thinking, Juliana reached out to grasp the errant two-inch curl of fluff that was destined to be her downfall.  The lissome plume evaded her fingers, dancing on the breeze created by her frantic motion.  It silently drifted down to the couple.

Juliana brought her fist to her mouth and silently prayed.  Both Lady Lettlecott and Sin were distracted for the moment.  Perhaps the tiny feather would remain unnoticed.  The husky moans and disconcertingly wet smacking noises coming from below heartened Juliana.

Until the fragile white plume landed on the top of the countess’s dark tresses.  Even in the moonlight, it was a stark beacon.  Juliana held her breath.  She mentally willed the plume to catch another breeze and disappear into the inky blackness of the ground.

Fly!

Any hope she harbored was dashed when Sin’s fingers moved from his lover’s shoulder to the lady’s hair.  To the traitorous plume.  His shoulders stiffened as he held up the feather, rubbing the light down between his fingers as he wordlessly contemplated its origins.  Then without warning, Sin tipped his head back and stared directly into Juliana’s troubled gaze.

Alexius Lothar Braverton, Marquess of Sinclair, or simply Sin to his friends, had made the most of his five and twenty years.  His privileged existence was filled with excessive indulgences, the forbidden, and oftentimes the perilous.  Very few things in life surprised him.  That was, until he looked up into the branches of hazel tree and saw the pale, frightened face of a young woman.

The air in his lungs burst from his lips.

Abby, naturally, thought her skillful tongue and measure of his cock was the reason for his lapse of control.  Alexius was content to let her believe he was enthralled.  The countess’s soft tongue curling and lapping the full length of him was pleasurable, even if his interest had drifted decidedly upward.  Besides, if he exposed the little interloper, he would never learn why she was watching them from the tree.

And, yes, he was . . . intrigued.

From his vantage point, her appealing looks caught his jaded eye.  Long blond corkscrew curls were draped chaotically around her oval face, hanging like the golden catkins of the hazel tree.  A pair of languid almond-shaped eyes balanced the delicate slope of her nose, and the rounded curve of her chin made his fingers itch to inspect each line.  Her skin was pale, luminous, like the moon overhead.  Whether it was natural or from fear he could only guess.  Her full lips parted, as if she struggled to draw air into her chest.

Who the devil was she?

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Knight of Pleasure ~ Margaret Mallory
Release Date: November 24, 2009 ~ Grand Central

Caen Castle
Normandy
1417

Whish! Whish! Whish!

The sound interrupted Sir Stephen Carleton’s thoughts as he passed the storeroom.  Drawing his sword, he eased the door of the storeroom open to take a look.

“Lady Hume!”  She looked as surprised as he was to catch her alone in a storeroom attacking a sack of grain with a sword.

“Close the door!” she hissed. “I cannot be seen here.”

And what a sight she was, with her cheeks flushed and strands of dark hair sticking to her face and neck. . God preserve him. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“I meant for you to remain outside when you closed it.”

Though she took a step back as she spoke, she kept a firm hand on her sword. As she should.

“That sack cannot provide much of a challenge,” he said, trying to put her at ease.

“You make fun of me.” There was resentment in her tone, but he was pleased to see her shoulders relax.

“Now, do you want to continue playing at sword fighting?” he asked, deliberately baiting her. “Or do you want to learn how to protect yourself from someone who intends you harm?”

Green eyes sparking with fire, she raised her sword and said, “Teach me.”

Oh, what he would love to teach her!

“You should carry a short blade, as well,” he instructed as he fended off her attack.

“Why? You think you can knock my sword from my hand?”

“I can, but I will not have to. You will drop it.”

He forced her to step back, and back, and back again. Once more, and her heel caught on an empty sack. She threw her hands up, sending the sword clattering against the wall as she tumbled backward. The next moment, she was lying back on her elbows, her hair loose about her shoulders, skirts askew, chest heaving.

Stephen could not move, could not even breathe.

“I’m afraid you have the advantage of me,” she said, her eyes dancing. She reached her hand up for him to help her to her feet.

He took it and sank to his knees beside her.  “Not true, Isobel,” he said in a harsh whisper. “’Tis I who am at your mercy.”

His eyes fixed on her lips, full and parted, and he gave in to the inexorable pull toward them. The moment their lips touched, fire seared through him. … He let himself sink down further and groaned aloud as his swollen shaft pressed against her hip.

But he froze the instant he felt the prick of cold steel against his neck.

“You are right,” she said so close to his ear that he could feel her breath, “ ’tis wise to carry a short blade.”

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