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ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS A DUKE Anthology,
featuring the Season's Original Novella, THE DUKE'S CHRISTMAS WISH
THE DEBUTANTE IS MINE
Season's Original #1
Vivienne Lorret
Releasing April 12th, 2016
Avon Impulse
USA Today bestselling author Vivienne Lorret launches a new historical romance series featuring the Seasonâs Originalâa coveted title awarded by the tonâs elite to one lucky debutante...
From the Season Standard: âA true Seasonâs Original embodies the class, grace, and style of the ton. Such an honorensures the recipient their pick of eligible suitorsâ¦â
Lilahâs Appletonâs prospects are looking dim. With one last chance to find a titled husband before sheâs forced to wed her wretched cousin, she must make this Season count. Plain, forgettable Lilah must become the Seasonâs Original. Desperate, she seeks help from the devilishly charming, untitled, and thoroughly unsuitable Jack Marlowe. All she must do now is resist the tempting rogue⦠Bastard son and self-made man, Jack Marlowe loathes the aristocracy. When he meets Lilah, he expects her to be like all the other greedy husband-hunters. But sheâs far more dangerous. Her alluring smiles and sharp tongue intrigue him. Before he knows it, he agrees to help her find a husband, revealing tricks to ensnare any man. The only problem is, his plan works too wellâon him. When Lilah becomes the belle of the ball, Jack realizes he may lose her forever-unless he can take a chance on love and claim his debutante...
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USA Today bestselling author, VIVIENNE LORRET loves romance novels, her pink laptop, her husband, and her two sons (not necessarily in that order ⦠but there are days). Transforming copious amounts of tea into words, she is an Avon Impulse author of works including: Tempting Mr. Weatherstone, The Wallflower Wedding Series, The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series, The Dukeâs Christmas Wish, and the Seasonâs Original Series.
Once in her favorite spot beneath the arbor, she drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. The air was chilly, but there was no breeze to make her too cold without a shawl. Overhead, clematis and rose vines were still brown and dormant. On the ground beside the stone path at her feet, a myriad of crocuses bloomed gaily, while tulip shoots were coming into their full height, hinting at their splendor. And halfway up, between the white arbor post and the slatted wooden bench, a spiderâs web fanned out, its occupant hidden from view.
She was just leaning closer to study it when she heard the door open and close with a quiet click. Assuming it was Myrtle on an errand for Aunt Zinnia, Lilah didnât bother to turn. âYou may tell my aunt that I will return shortly. I have need of a breath of air.â âDo you breathe better when youâre bent at the waist?â a manâs deep voice asked. Startled, Lilah jerked upright, whipping around to face the stranger. Only he wasnât quite a stranger. Sheâd seen him before. In fact, not more than an hour ago. And he looked just as out of place in this manicured garden as his Destrier had trotting along the London streets. She imagined, however, that man and beast would look perfectly at home galloping across an untamed moor or into battle. The man had a feral, warrior look about him. Especially with the golden, hot-ember color of his eyes beneath the arch of a tawny brow. And instead of walking with perfect pedestrian form, he prowled toward herâagile but controlled, as if always prepared for battle. Beneath a gray tailored coat, his broad shoulders subtly rolled and shifted. The black buttons of his striped waistcoat were in a flat, straight line, suggesting a firmness, about which she likely shouldnât ponder. The same way she should not admire the storm-cloud gray shade of his riding breeches and the way they encased his thighs, displaying every gradation of his impressive musculature. When her gaze dipped, she also took note of the large bouquet of pink and white primroses he carried, hanging carelessly by his side. The flowers were enough to remind her of why she was out in the garden. A fresh wave of disappointment hit her. âI believe,â she said, but when her words came out in nothing more than a whisper, she cleared her throat and began again. âI believe youâll find my cousin in the parlor.â He stopped just beneath the arbor, not two steps from her. As they had earlier, his lips curled into a smirk at one corner of his mouth. This time, there was no mistaking the direction of his gaze. He was, most assuredly, looking at her. âWhen I asked where I would find Miss Lilah Appleton, a rather frantic maid pointed in this direction. Was she mistaken?â Lilahâs breath caught in her throat. His voice was that of a warriorâs tooâsure and commanding but with an underlying edge. Do not cross me, that tone warned as much as it promised. I will fight to the death for you. She could easily hear him saying those words on a battlefield . . . or in a ballroom. Of course, his attire would be different for each occasion . . .
2 Comments
Crystal, Tasty Book Tours
4/22/2016 11:15:35 am
Thank you for hosting THE DEBUTANTE IS MINE today!
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The Recipe Fairy
4/24/2016 04:02:31 pm
It's my pleasure! ;)
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