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Monday, March 4, 2013
Travel Back in Time with 'Cradle of Dreams'
9:35 PM | 
Posted by
Keta Diablo
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:
Excerpt:
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.
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.
And fear.
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.
$1.49
Kindle: http://amzn.to/HqSmGz
Nook: http://bit.ly/LPv8vT
Nook UK: http://bit.ly/WxCnuc
Kobo: http://bit.ly/Ny98Zx
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