The Soldier's Scoundrel
by Cat Sebastian
Releasing September 20th 2016
Avon Impulse
Avon Impulse
From The Book Junkie Reads . . . The
Soldier’s Scoundrel . . .
Different degrees of man refined,
elegant, sexy to rough, tough, sexy. Both with appeal that would draw others to
them. Oliver and Jack both were men of honor but from different ends of the
spectrum. One growing up in luxury and the other learning the reality of life.
The devil was in the details of the coming
together of Oliver and Jack. The solving of the case not so much. I was
interested but not entranced by the why of it all. My focus was on how and when
Oliver and Jack would make that commitment to be. Then I was more focused on if
it would stay that way.
I love historical romance. Not real
picky on the sub-genre of the presentation. This one was captivating in the
premise behind it all, but the heat level of MM Romance was not quite up to the
level that would make me blush. I enjoyed what I read and would return to Cat
Sebastian.
**This ARC was provided via Edelweiss
in exchange for an honest review.**
Blurb
A scoundrel who lives in the shadows
Jack Turner grew up in the darkness of London’s slums, born into a life of crime and willing to do anything to keep his belly full and his siblings safe. Now he uses the tricks and schemes of the underworld to help those who need the kind of assistance only a scoundrel can provide. His distrust of the nobility runs deep and his services do not extend to the gorgeous high-born soldier who personifies everything Jack will never be.
A soldier untarnished by vice
After the chaos of war, Oliver Rivington craves the safe predictability of a gentleman’s life-one that doesn’t include sparring with a ne’er-do-well who flouts the law at every turn. But Jack tempts Oliver like no other man has before. Soon his yearning for the unapologetic criminal is only matched by Jack’s pleasure in watching his genteel polish crumble every time they’re together.
Two men only meant for each other
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Jack absently
skimmed his finger along the surface of his desk, tracing a swirl through the
sand he had used to blot his notes. Another case was solved and done with,
another gentleman too drunk on his own power and consequence to remember to pay
servants and tradesmen, too dissipated to bother being faithful to his wife.
Nearly every client’s problems were variations on that same theme. Jack might
have been bored if he weren’t so angry.
A knock
sounded at the door, a welcome distraction. His sister always knocked, as if
she didn’t want to interrupt whatever depravities Jack was conducting on the
other side of the door. She did it out of an excess of consideration, but Jack
still felt like she was waiting for him to do something unspeakable at any
moment.
She was
right, of course, but still it grated.
“Come
in, Sarah.
“There’s
a gentleman here to see you,” she said, packing a world of both disapproval and
deference into those few words.
Really,
it was a pity she hadn’t been born a man because the world had lost a first
rate butler there. The butlers Jack had served under would have been put fairly
to shame.
“Tell
him to bugger off.” Sarah knew perfectly well he didn’t take gentlemen as
clients. He tried to keep any trace of impatience out of his voice, but didn’t think
he quite managed it.
“I have
customers downstairs and I don’t want a scene.” She had pins jammed into the
sleeve of her gown, a sign that she had been interrupted in the middle of a
fitting. No wonder her lips were pursed.
“And I
don’t want any gentlemen.” Too late, he realized he had set her up for a smart-mouthed
response. Now she was going to press her advantage because that’s what older
sisters did. But Sarah must have been developing some restraint, or maybe she
was only in a hurry, because all she did was raise a single eyebrow as if to
say, like hell you don’t.
“I’m
not your gatekeeper,” she said a moment later, her tone deceptively mild. But
on her last word Jack could hear a trace of that old accent they had both
worked so hard to shed. Sarah had to be driven to distraction if she was
letting her accent slip.
“Send
him up, then,” he conceded. This arrangement of theirs depended on a certain
amount of compromise on both sides.
She
vanished, her shoes scarcely making any sound on the stairs. A moment later he
heard the heavier tread of a man not at all concerned about disturbing the
clients below.
This
man didn’t bother knocking. He simply sailed through the door Sarah had left
ajar as if he had every right in the world to enter whatever place he pleased,
at whatever time he wanted.
To hell
with that. Jack took his time stacking his cards, pausing a moment to examine
one with feigned and hopefully infuriating interest. The gentleman coughed
impatiently; Jack mentally awarded himself the first point.
“Yes?”
Jack looked up for the first time, as if only now noticing the stranger’s
presence. He could see why Sarah had pegged him straight away as a gentleman.
Everything about him, from his mahogany walking stick to his snowy white linen,
proclaimed his status.
“You’re
Jack Turner?”
There
was something about his voice—the absurd level of polish, perhaps—that made
Jack look more carefully at his visitor’s face.
Could
it—it couldn’t be. But it was.
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Author Info
Cat
Sebastian lives in a swampy part of the South with her
husband, three kids, and two dogs. Before her kids were born, she practiced law
and taught high school and college writing. When she isn't reading or writing,
she's doing crossword puzzles, bird watching, and wondering where she put her
coffee cup.
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