The first book in our book spotlight this morning is a new historical romance from author Kristen McLean. Check out Changing the Earl's Mind, learn about the author, read a quick excerpt from the book--and enter to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card.
Changing
the Earl's Mind
The
Lords of Whitehall Book 3
by
Kristen McLean
Genre:
Historical Romance
A
man who knows everything…
For
nearly a decade, Drake Ramsey, the disciplined and logical Earl of
Saint Brides, has been the driving force behind the Home Office;
meeting with foreign leaders to negotiate treaties, spurring a
lethargic Parliament into action, and directing a secret army of
spies. The last thing he wants to find while taking a well-deserved
vacation is a dangerous fugitive. Nevertheless, when he catches a
beautiful murderess hiding in his hunting cabin, he has little choice
but to bring her to justice, landing himself in a battle for control
he could never hope to win.
…meets
a woman determined to prove him wrong.
Marrying
a stranger simply to gain access to her dowry and travel the world,
admittedly, was the biggest mistake of Sarah Tindall’s life. In
fact, she would readily admit to making several big mistakes. Killing
her husband, however, is not one of them. When a starchy lord takes
it upon himself to bring her to a London prison, she is determined to
escape him and prove her innocence, yet every attempt ends with her
back in her handsome captor’s arms. Even if her innocence is
proven, his forbidden and passionate kisses leave her uncertain if
escape was ever an option.
*WARNING*
This
work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually
active characters portrayed in this ebook are eighteen years of age
or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence,
and explicit language offends you.
**Can
easily be read as a standalone!**
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Excerpt from Changing the Earl's Mind
Drake awoke on the floor, his
entire body in more pain than he had ever experienced before in his life. His
shoulder throbbed and his middle… Gad, he couldn’t possibly describe the pain
he felt there.
He rolled to sit upright. How long
had he been out? Last he remembered, it was dark, storming, Winters had
arrived…
The sight of Sarah disappearing
after Winters flooded his mind. She had gone after that lunatic!
He tried to calm himself. Nick
would have gone after her after he had locked him in this room. He could
protect Sarah. He could kill Winters. He had been an assassin back in the day.
The man could handle a single crazed murderer.
Voices sounded in the hall. Nick
and the boy.
He forced himself to his feet and
pounded on the door. “Where is Sarah? Pembridge, answer me! Let me out of here,
you dandified popinjay, or I shall have you arrested for interfering with an
investigation! I shall have you… I shall …”
The voices had faded down the hall.
There was no point in yelling threats to an empty hallway.
He growled into the door.
Billy had bandaged him up rather
well. The bleeding had stopped, and he could walk, though not overly well.
Still, he eyed the door. Perhaps he could break through it. But then he would
have to get past the earl and an army of his own footmen.
Lightning brightened the room,
followed by the crack of thunder. By some shock of insanity, the window caught
his attention. That route was nonsense and most probably deadly. The
bedchambers were four floors up. The drop, were he to fall, would be merciful
only in the fact it would be a quick death.
Though, the gargoyles might give
him something to grab on to, as long as they didn’t give way. They were three
hundred years old, after all.
He went the window and looked down
below. Several footmen were streaming out of the house, some mounting horses.
Pembridge was there, barking orders, though Drake couldn’t make out the words
over the storm.
Realization left him chilled. He
hadn’t found Sarah. She and Winters were still out there somewhere. And the
footmen were going in the wrong direction, heading over the moors instead of
toward the cemetery or tower, where one might hide or find refuge. Winters
wasn’t stupid; he would know the only shelter would be the cabin, which would
be searched first.
No, he was either in the mausoleum
at the cemetery, or in the tower.
Drake tried the door, shoving as
hard as he dared, but the bloody thing wouldn’t budge. He turned again toward
the window with grim resolution. It was his only option.
Kristen McLean is a regency-era romance novelist with a flair for humor and suspense. She has always had a love of novels, with a special place in her heart for historical romance. Now she has the pleasure of writing at home, tucked away in a forest with her husband, two children, and their cat. Her husband is loving and impressively patient, their two beautiful children strive to embarrass and exhaust her, and the cat hates everyone, but tolerates—well, she tolerates whoever will feed her.
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