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- Blood Oath
- Chasing Love - Guilty Pleasures
- Cradle of Dreams
- Crossroads Revisited
- Crossroads: Shadowland
- Crossroads: Showdown
- Dark Night of the Moon
- Decadent Deceptions
- Dust and Moonlight
- HIS ALONE - BDSM
- Holding On To Heaven
- Land Of Falling Stars
- Long Hard Ride
- Sin Eater's Prince
- Sky Tinted Water
- Sojourn With A Stranger
- Where The Rain Is Made
Monday, March 4, 2013
9:35 PM | Posted by Keta Diablo | Edit Post
I love writing (and reading) time travel novels. Talk about escaping to another time and place - Wow! CRADLE OF DREAMS is a time travel - a HAWT, erotic romance novella you'll love.
About Cradle of Dreams:
About Cradle of Dreams:
Warnings: explicit language and sex
With visions of battle still fresh in his mind, Roane Bradfield returns home to find the woman he loves betrothed to another. He corners Kendrick Moreland at Dowager Huggins’ Grand Ball and whisks her into the secluded library. One way or the other, he will know the reason the duplicitous beauty cut him from her life when she promised to wait forever.
By all that was holy, Roane Bradfield appeared within Kendrick’s line of vision. Her Roane Bradfield. Dear God, it wasn’t possible, couldn’t be him. Her stomach fell, and the room spun. How she had mourned his death, cried a million tears when his name appeared in the Savannah Republican: Roane Bradfield, Killed in Action, Battle of Petersburg. At the time, the words had blurred on the page and waves of grief brought her to her knees.It had taken her weeks to drag herself from bed every morning, months to come to terms with his death. Had she ever really come to terms with it or had she merely put one foot in front of the other and stumbled through life a phantom specter? She knew only one thing at the time—if she lived to be one hundred she would never again love a man like she loved Roane Bradfield.
Beside her, Pitt’s back stiffened, and below her trembling hand his arm tensed. So many times she had imagined Roane Bradfield cutting through the masses toward her, but this was no illusion. Beneath the bright chandelier, his midnight hair glistened, and even from this distance, a palpable hunger burned in his eyes. Something else burned too . . . anger.
The crowd parted and onward he came, all sinewy muscle and dark beauty—broad shoulders, narrow waist and long, muscled legs. And depthless ebony eyes. She should have known someone as vibrant and alive as Roane couldn’t die. Beneath her gown, her legs gave way and every joint in her body went boneless.
“Good, God, look who’s risen from the dead?” her fiancé said.
“Pitt, please, how can you say such a thing?” Kendick’s knees shook and she felt faint. She didn’t have the facts, but truly, Roane had risen from the dead. For a flash of a second, her heart overflowed with joy, and then she saw the look on her former love’s face. Unadulterated vengeance. He came to settle a score.
Roane stood before them, his bronzed hand reaching for hers. “Kendrick, lovely to see you again, darling.”
Sparks flared and a jolt of lightning pedaled through her veins when he brought her fingers to his lips. “Roane . . . we-we heard you were―”
“Yes, so the Dowager informs me. You thought me dead. Well, you can see I’m here in the flesh, and quite alive.”
“See here, Bradfield,” Pitt said, his voice cracking amid the undercurrents. “Kendrick is betrothed to me now. I hardly think you should address her as darling or any other endearment.”
Roane paused, his rakish gaze assessing her head to toe before he turned to Pitt. “Be a good chap, Fleming, and refresh my drink.”
With Roane’s fluted glass touching the fabric of Pitt’s waistband, her betrothed floundered for words. “I don’t believe I should abandon my fiancé in light of the―”
Roane visibly blanched at the word fiancé. “I assure you, Pitt,” he replied, his tone glacial, “Miss Moreland is in no danger while an enormous crowd looks on. In any event, I believe we have something to discuss, do we not, Kendrick?”
Roane knew her better than she knew herself. Her initial joy at seeing the decadent man gave way to rage. Heat traveled the length of her neck and scalded her cheeks. How he enjoyed making her blush . . . and cringe. She had never been able to hide her true feelings from him. By his arrogant smirk, he knew he still held the power to decipher them.
God curse the man. Only Roane Bradfield would dramatize his sudden return to life in front of an assembly of onlookers. The last thing she expected to encounter tonight was Roane in the flesh, and yet elation and an undeniable series of shivers coursed through her.
Dear Lord, help her. The man would make her regret her actions during his absence. Roane would never believe she thought him dead, would never accept her admission she agreed to marry Pitt only when everyone in Savannah, including her, thought him lost forever. The cock-sure man would remain calm and collective while she stumbled with ineffectual explanations. If only he would stop looking at her as if he could see through her gown.
Nook UK: http://bit.ly/WxCnuc
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