The Book Junkie's Reads . . .: Season's Original series

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Friday, October 14, 2016

Virtual Tour - When a Marquess Loves a Woman (Season's Original, #3) by Vivienne Lorret

When a Marquess Loves a Woman
Season's Original, #3

by Vivienne Lorret

Released October 4^th 2016
Avon Impulse

From The Book Junkie Reads . . . When a Marrquess Loves a Woman (Season’s Original, #3) . . .

This Marquess had to wait but he got his Lady or could it be that the Lady got her man.

I have to admit that the prologue got me riled up. I wanted to skewer Juliet. I was heartbroken for Max. Five years later, things have a way of coming back and opening doors when least expected. On starts the banter, the witty humor, the brains to brawn, the high stakes wagers, the plotting and daring arrangements. Juliet and Max have been parted by five years and life but the love between the two has not diminished. I felt as if it had strengthened.

You will open a door to fun and laughs. Hot, sexy (not smutty) romantic interludes. I look forward to more from the Season’s Original. Gemme has a special place in my heart. I hope she is next up. I did enjoy visiting the other couple from the series. I love the way the all come together in the end. Seeing possibilities was delightful.

I love reading Vivienne’s romances there is always a little something of magic within. The hero and heroine seem to have that magic around them and it just draws you in also. Battle they may but they come back to each other stronger. Vivienne has never let me down. I love reading her historical romances. Each one brings something different to the forefront. She imparts something of a historical note.

Season’s Original series:

All I Want for Christmas (The Duke’s Christmas Wish) – Season’s Original, #.5 SEE REVIEW

The Debutant is Mine – Season’s Original, #1

This Earl is on Fire – Season’s Original, #2 SEE REVIEW

When a Marquess Loves a Woman – Season’s Original, #3

Blurb

As a young, penniless gentleman, Maxwell Harwick knew he had little to offer Juliet White—the most beautiful debutante of the season—except his love, and one thoroughly scandalous kiss. But when they were discovered in a compromising position, a nearly ruined Juliet fled into the arms of a rich, older lord... taking Max’s heart with her.

Now a widow, Lady Juliet Granworth intends to use the fortune she inherited from her odious husband to build a new life in London. Five years have passed, but she’s never forgotten Max… or his soul-searing kiss. Yet it’s clear the newly-minted Marquess of Thayne has not forgiven her—after all, the infuriating man can barely stand the sight of her. But Juliet has endured far too much to give up without a fight and if it’s a battle of wills he wants, it’s a battle he’ll get.

He hates her for breaking his heart. She detests him for destroying her future. But beneath all the loathing, simmers an intoxicating passion that neither can ignore… and the harder they resist, the harder they will inevitably fall.

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Then, without warning, he crushed his mouth to hers.

The shock of it made her grow still, her eyes still open, even as his closed and a groan tore from his throat. The sound of it woke her, startling her into a new awareness. Max was kissing her, his lips firm and familiar, his tongue bold and commanding, daring her to retaliate.

And she did, slanting her mouth beneath his, parrying with his tongue while clutching handfuls of his shirt in her fists. He groaned again, and the vibration of it had the strangest effect on her eyelids, for they drifted closed. Her head tilted, lips parting, allowing him deeper. She wasn’t sure if this was part of a battle or a strange sort of truce.

Then again, weren’t truces civilized affairs between warring factions with cooler heads? That was certainly nothing like her and Max and this heated skirmish of mouths and hands.

She didn’t know what possessed her, but she pulled the hem of his shirt free of his trousers, and now her palms were pressed against the hard plane of his abdomen, her fingertips grazing a soft dusting of hair. It seemed the sensible thing to do—explore the terrain of her opponent’s territory—and she refused to overthink her actions.

The clasp of her cloak slipped free from her neck, the garment falling away as Max’s hands skimmed over her back, down the row of buttons descending to her derriere, then swept upward past the scalloped lace and to the bare flesh between her shoulder blades. His touch sent a shiver down her body, making her arch like a bow against him, poised to strike. Every inch of her skin suddenly felt taut, her breasts heavy, tingling. Her stomach dropped lower, weighted, emitting a sweet clenching sensation that seemed to deplete the air in her lungs.

She broke away from the kiss, turning her head, breathing hard now. Max did not cease his onslaught. He was battle ready, always, and far more skilled in this manner of warfare.

Even so, Juliet had no intention of surrendering. “You destroyed the walls because you’re afraid that I will win our wager and bring another man here? My, my, Max, that sounds rather like a jealous man.”

His attention shifted to the column of her throat, where his wet, open-mouthed kisses called attention to the steady throb at the apex of her thighs. She wanted to close her legs against it and squeeze tightly, but Max was there, the hard length of him pushing against her, driving her back against the wall. Her hips rocked against his in retaliation—or perhaps because she wanted to feel him once more. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure that a battle was supposed to feel this good. But with Max, it was difficult to tell the difference. Part of her loved fighting with him. Every argument felt like a prelude to something more, something so near and yet still out of reach.

Her frustration mounted when he did not answer her taunt, and so she slipped her hands free of his shirt, took his face in her hands, and kissed him again. Yes, that would show him that she was in control. This time, her tongue swept into his mouth, and her hips rolled slowly against his. And because she wasn’t finished proving it, she continued, even as he lifted her off the ground, his hands clasped over her hips and lower still, until he was cupping her bottom.

She found purchase on a demilune console, Max between her thighs, his position edging her skirts upward. But now the muslin was bunched between them. Parting her knees did nothing to bring him back to where he was a moment ago, to ease that insistent pulse. It was just like Max to give her a taste of something, only to leave her without. But she wasn’t going to let him do that to her again. So just like in many battles, she took him prisoner, locking her legs around him.

Max set his hands over her wrists and slowly drew them down from his face, his gaze fierce. “I am not going to be the one to stop this, Juliet. Do you understand? It will be you, like always.” He shook his head, pressing his forehead to hers. “I have reached my limit, and this game of ours must conclude, one way or the other.”

Her first impulse was to challenge him in return, but when she read his expression, she couldn’t. The edgy mockery she typically saw was no longer there. He searched her gaze, his dark eyes seeming vulnerable, and the furrows between his brows no longer angry but pained. He was open and exposed, revealing a raw desire so potent that it almost frightened her. Mostly because she felt it too.

She realized this was no longer about the house or any of their arguments. In fact, she wasn’t sure if it ever was. No, this was about something more, that tangible thing between them that she couldn’t shake loose.

If she chose to leave, she sensed that things would never be the same between them again. And if she stayed . . . things would never be the same between them again.

But she’d come this far, and running away was not an option. She’d had five years to think about Max’s kiss. Five years of wondering what it might have been like if she’d made a different choice.

“I haven’t once looked at the door, Max.” And then she tipped her chin and pressed her mouth to his.

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Author Info
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 Duke’s Christmas Wish, and the Season’s Original Series.

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Friday, August 5, 2016

Virtual Tour - This Earl is on Fire (Season's Original, #2) by Vivienne Lorret

This Earl is on Fire
Season's Original, #2

by Vivienne Lorret

Releasing August 2^nd 2016
Avon Impulse

From The Book Junkie Reads . . . This Earl is on Fire (Season’s Original, #2) . . .

Adeline was a young, sweet, witty lady with a small impediment to the way she walked. She never dreamed of finding a man that would love her for who she was as a person. She never dreamed of falling in love at all. As it often happens in such tales of romance, she finds that one man that would melt her resolve and give her something else to look at besides the views of what the ton/society thinks. Of course that comes with its own set of problems and barriers.

The Earl of Wolford finds himself it a tiny predicament. He wakes to find that he has no memory of the events that lead him to his current situation. He also wakes to a beautiful voice, soothing, alluring, witty, and sweet. With all that has happened to him in life, he finds that one that he was willing to leave his old ways behind for but his past works against him and them.

I loved Adeline and the Earl also but she stole the show for me. The secondary characters were supportive and helped carry things through. This was by far not your conventional courtship once Liam took his head out of an unmentioned place. There was adventures and tradition. Adeline had herself a chance to live life beyond being coddled. She had the wonderful unconventional family that supports the story perfectly. There was humor, adventure, mystery, and romance.

**This ARC was provided via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.**

Season's Original series:
All I Want for Christmas - Season's Original, #0.5 SEE REVIEW
The Debutante is Mine - Season's Original, #1
This Earl is on Fire - Season's Original, #2
When a Marquess Loves a Woman - Season's Original, #3

Blurb

The sheltered daughter of a country baron, Miss Adeline Pimm comes to London looking for adventure… and finds it in the form of a bloody, unconscious man slumped in the doorway of her family's rented townhouse. Though his identity is a mystery, Adeline is inexplicably drawn to the handsome, injured man and vows to nurse him back to health.

Liam Cavanaugh, the scandalous Earl of Wolford, is startled when he awakens in an unfamiliar bed, wrapped in bandages that hinder his eyesight, with no memory of why he was beaten half to death. Although he can't see the witty young woman who tends to his wounds, her alluring voice--and a single stolen kiss from her soft lips--help soothe his pain. But when he is fully healed, Liam is not ready to let go of the one woman who stirs his deepest longings.

Liam will do whatever it takes to see Adeline again, even if it means giving up his rakish ways. But his disreputable past is not so easily forgotten and his secrets are far more dangerous than he-or Adeline-ever imagined.

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Liam Cavanaugh grinned at the corrugated lines marking his cousin’s lifted brows. It wasn’t often that Northcliff Bromley, the Duke of Vale and renowned genius, showed astonishment.

Bending his dark head, Vale peered closer at the marble heads within the crates. “Remarkable. Even seeing them side by side, I hardly notice a difference. The fellows will be fascinated when you present this to the Royal Society at month’s end.”

“It was pure luck that I had the original as well.” Liam shrugged as if he’d merely stumbled upon the differences between a genuine article and an imposter.

Vale turned, and his obsidian eyes sharpened on Liam. “No need to play the simpleton with me. You forget that I know your secret.”

Liam cast a hasty glance around the sconce-lit, cluttered ballroom of Wolford House, ensuring they were alone. Fortunately, the vast space was empty aside from the two of them and a dozen or more large crates filled with artifacts. “By definition, a secret is that of which we do not speak. So lower your voice, if you please.”

No one needed to know that he actually studied each piece of his collection in detail—enough that he’d learned how to spot a forgery in an instant.

“Afraid the servants will tell the ton your collection isn’t merely a frivolous venture? Or that your housekeeper’s complaints of dusty urns and statues crowding each room would suddenly fall silent?” Vale flashed a smile that bracketed his mouth with deep creases.

Liam pretended to consider his answer, pursing his lips. “It would be cruel of me to render Mrs. Brasher mute when she finds such enjoyment in haranguing me.”

“She may have a point,” Vale said, skirting in between two crates when a wayward nail snagged his coat, issuing a sharp rip of rending fabric. He stopped to examine the hole and shook his head. “Your collection has grown by leaps and bounds in the past few months. So much so that you were forced to purchase another property to house it all.”

“The curse of immense wealth and boredom, I’m afraid.”

His cousin’s quick glower revealed that he was not amused by Liam’s insouciant guise. Then, as if to punish him for it, he issued the foulest epithet known to man. “You should marry.”

Not wanting to reveal the discomfort slowly clawing up his spine, Liam chuckled. “As a cure for boredom?”

Vale said nothing. He merely crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

It was a standoff now. They were nearly equal in regard to observation skills, but apparently Vale thought he had the upper hand.

Liam knew differently. He crossed his arms as well and smirked.

If anyone were to peer into the room at this moment, they might wonder if they were staring at matching wax figures. The two of them looked enough alike in build and coloring to be brothers, but with subtle differences. Vale’s features were blunter, while Liam’s were angular. And Vale’s dark eyes were full of intellect, while Liam’s green eyes tended to reveal the streak of mischief within.

“Marriage would do you good,” Vale said.

Liam disagreed. “You’re starting to sound like Thayne, always hinting of ways to improve my social standing.”

The Marquess of Thayne was determined to reform Liam into the ton’s favorite pet—the Season’s Original. In fact, Thayne had been so confident in success that he’d wagered on the outcome. What a fool.

“I never hint,” Vale said.

Liam offered his cousin a nod. “True. You are a forthright, scientific gentleman, and I appreciate that about you. Therefore, I will give you the courtesy of answering in kind: No. I should not marry. I like my life just as it is.” He lifted his hands in a gesture to encompass his collection within this room. “Besides, I could never respect a woman who would have me.”

Vale scoffed. “Respect?”

“Very well. I could never trust a woman who desired to marry me. Not with my reputation. Such a woman would either be mad or conniving, and I want neither for a wife.”

He’d nearly succumbed once, falling for the worst of all deceptions. After that narrow escape, he’d vowed never to be tricked again.

“Come now. There are many who care nothing for your reputation.”

That statement only served to cement his belief. If his despoiled reputation were the only thing keeping him far afield of the ton’s conniving matchmakers, then he would make the most of it. And the perfect place to add the crème de la crème to his list of scandalous exploits would be at Lady Forester’s masquerade tonight.

After all, he had a carefully crafted reputation of unrepentant debauchery to uphold.

Liam squared his shoulders and walked with his cousin to the door. “If the Fates have it in mind to see me married before I turn sixty, then they will have to knock me over the head and drag me to the altar.”

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