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Book #3 of Phantom Riders MC Trilogy!
Standalone romances
No cliffhangers ever!

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Big John is the club enforcer. He's big and scary and he sets his sights on Daisy the instant he locks eyes on the curvy beauty. Daisy's the new girl in town. She's grown strong and independent since leaving an abusive marriage, but nothing prepares her for the hulking, sexy biker who wants to claim her when trouble comes calling!

Excerpt -
“Open the door.” I cringed at the harsh demand passing through my lips, and couldn’t blame her for slapping her hands onto her hips and refusing my request.

My gaze fell to the deep V that putting her hands on her hips had caused. Plenty of smooth, creamy flesh was revealed, but I wanted to see it all. My dick had a one-track mind when it came to Daisy and what he wanted, jerking strongly behind my zipper.

“Do you want to rephrase that?” she scowled.

Fuck, I liked her fire. But I wasn’t about to turn all syrupy and say please. She should have known better. “Open the door, babe, or I’ll open it for you and I guarantee you won’t like how I go about it.”

She weighed my words, as if trying to decide if I’d follow up my threat. “Nice, Big John.” She reached up and turned the lock. “I told you to leave me alone. I don’t want you here.”

I yanked the door open and stepped inside. “I don’t care what you want.” My nostrils flared, taking in the enticing scent that trailed behind her as she moved away. I wanted to lick whatever the hell it was off her body. “You’re coming back to the club with me.”

She paused and turned back around to face me, disbelief on her face. “No. I’m not connected to you or the club in any way, so I’ll stay right here where I’m safe.”

I snorted. “Safe, babe? Do you know how easy I could have broken through that glass door? And I bet the back door to this place isn’t any better, unless you had it replaced when you moved in.” Her deflated expression revealed that she hadn’t. “Get dressed and pack some shit.”

She held her ground stubbornly. “Why? Because your club is on lockdown? That means nothing to me. You can’t come in here and tell me what to do. You’re nothing to me.”

Christ, that hurt. I forced myself not to move, not to reach out and just make her do what I wanted. I didn’t expect her to understand, our worlds were different. She was a civilian, lived by the rules and laws that society dictated. We did, too, in a way, but our rules and laws were dictated by the members of the MC. We voted on what worked for our club, we had each other’s backs and stood together as a team. We didn’t get the law involved in club trouble because we took care of shit on our own. It was the way most hardcore MC’s worked.

“You’re stubborn, woman,” I growled. “And I don’t have time for this shit.” I bent at the waist, caught her in the belly with my shoulder, and swept her off her feet. I heard her outraged humph as I continued to the back where I knew the stairs led to the second story.

“Put me down!” Daisy screamed, beating her little fists against my back as I easily carried her upstairs. “This is crazy, Big John! I’m not going with you and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

That’s what she thought. If I had to drag her ass back to the club the way she was dressed I would. I opened her door and plowed through the room, following the layout of her apartment until I reached her bedroom.

“Put me down!” she demanded angrily, wiggling wildly against me.

I dropped her down onto her bed. She bounced a few times before coming to rest on her backside.

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Revisiting the Award-Winning Regency: A CONTINENTAL MARRIAGE (PG excerpt)

Golden Wings Award WINNER--Best Overall Historical Romance Read

Here's a little known bit of trivia: the model for A CONTINENTAL MARRIAGE's lovely cover is none other than my very own lovely daughter!


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Regency

Available electronically at Amazon.com and Smashwords.com

Price: $3.99 electronically and $12.95 print

Buy link:

Available electronically at:
Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0037UY484 and Wings Press http://www.books-by-wings-epress.com/a-continental-marriage

Available In print at:
Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/dp/1597058823 and Createspace https://www.createspace.com/6291460


American Nicolette Turner has a bone to pick with the British. Not only is her country’s maritime rights being violated, but her English grandfather, Lord Eldredge, demands that she travel across the Atlantic to visit him. What she doesn’t know is that he intends for her to marry, thereby staying in England and having lots of babies.

The most eligible suitor is neighbor Victor Kincaid. Victor has severe money problems. Lord Eldredge offers to take care of the debts... if Victor marries Nicolette. At first Victor believes she’s a fortune-hunter, but soon becomes captivated by her. Can he convince her he wants more than a marriage of convenience?

Scene Set-Up:
The financial arraignments have been made. Victor decides it’s now time to propose to Nicolette. 

Damn. Asking for this woman’s hand was going to be deuced awkward, to say the least.

Inhaling deeply, Victor walked into the drawing room and scanned its yellow interior. A cheerful fire crackled in the fireplace which stood between two immense paintings. Just beyond the hearthrug in the middle of the drawing room, a table displayed the nuncheon meal. Cold meats, cheeses, pickles, jellies, breads, and fruits--everything a man could want to assuage his hunger. But more important than food, a crystal decanter of sherry beckoned to him.

It would have to wait. Where the devil was Nicolette?

The two settees around the table were empty and not a sound other than the snapping and popping of flames disturbed the tranquil air.

He released his breath. Was he supposed to seek her out? “Damn,” he repeated, this time out loud.

A movement by the large wing-backed chair near the fireplace caught his attention. It was Nicolette, so curled within the chair’s comfortable borders that, from his vantage, he had not seen her.

“Is something wrong, Lord Cushing? Is the food not to your liking?”

She looked an odd mixture of mischievousness and grandeur. Her delicately arched eyebrows were lifted in an indifferent manner, however, the twinkle in her grey eyes revealed amusement at having caught him in an unguarded moment.

“Er, no, not at all.” He cleared his throat, then gestured toward the table. “Shall we?”

Nodding, she left the chair to pick up a dish. She must not have been very hungry for she chose only a few cubes of cheese, a biscuit, apple slices, and strips of pineapple. “I find our host’s hospitality most agreeable. I never expected to feast on pineapple, quite a costly fruit in these parts Margaret tells me.” Nicolette chose one of the settees and sat.

He made a move to pour her a glass of sherry, but she declined the wine.

Pity. It would have made his ordeal easier if she were a trifle elevated.

He sat opposite her on the other settee and balanced a full plate on his lap. How should he begin? “Lady Nicolette--”

“Perhaps it’s time we called each other by our Christian names.”

He smiled. She was going to make this easy for him. “Yes. Yes, certainly, Nicolette. I realize we have not known each other long, however, our families have been neighbors and friends for close to two hundred years.”

“My father’s family,” she corrected.

“Yes, of course.” Why would she even mention her mother’s connections? He ran his hand over his hair, then took a drink of sherry. “I would have preferred for us to get better acquainted before...”

“Before what?”

He glanced into her earnest eyes. So, she was not going to make it easy. “Nicolette, as you are aware, shopping is not the sole purpose of being in London today. It is your grandfather’s wish to bring us... together.”

She met his gaze unflinchingly. “And he uses his wealth to achieve his ends.”

Victor’s sentiments exactly, but why protest when he had already agreed to the arrangement? “As I am in need of funds, as are you, I see no reason to quibble about the circumstances that unite us in marriage.”

Her nostrils flaring, she straightened her back. In truth she looked as formidable as an avenging fury. “Marriage? I must have missed something important. When did you propose?”

“Damn.” He did not mean to swear; the word just slipped out--again.

Uncertainty assailed him. Perhaps she was not as amenable as Lord Eldredge believed. And yet marriage to Nicolette was a tolerable solution to his dilemma. His sister Leticia had not registered dissent when Victor had broached the subject, which was quite a relief, considering her sensibilities. Her departed Stanley had been close to the poor house, and news of the dwindling Kincaid finances must have been a topic of great concern to her. With the earl’s backing, Leticia need never worry about monetary matters again.

Which was a moot point unless he could win over this termagant. So how should he handle Nicolette?

Hoping to gain insight from the sherry’s potent, fortified fumes, he refilled his glass, then took another sip. As the wine warmed his insides, he thought of her father, and how Ian would on occasion turn mulish when forced to act contrary to his inclinations. Victor’s job then, was to convince her that this marriage was in her own best interests.

“My dear Nicolette, if I may.” Victor set aside his glass and his plate, then sat next to her. “You are right. I did not propose--properly or otherwise.” He held her hand, and was amused to note a pink blush covering her cheeks. “It is my fervent hope that my offer of marriage will have a favorable reception. I confess it quite impossible to conceal the anxiety with which I await your reply.”

She pulled her hand away. “I-I find that difficult to believe.”

He reclaimed it, not only to exert control over her, but to be truthful, he enjoyed the softness of her skin. “My sentiments are bona fide, Nicolette. It seems my future lies in these delicate hands. As you pointed out at last Saturday’s dinner party, I have been neglecting my duty to unite with a gently bred lady in matrimony.”

Her comment was most unexpected. “Piffle,” she said as she turned away.


Hope you enjoy!

Susanne Marie Knight
Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist!

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Revisiting the Murder Mystery Romance: THE BLOODSTAINED BISTRO (PG excerpt)


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Murder Mystery Romance

Price: FREE electronically!!

Buy Link:
Available electionically at:

Visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WIPP0MJtnTs to see a trailer of THE BLOODSTAINED BISTRO.

Eating at the Bloodstained Bistro can be hazardous to amateur detective Minx Tobin’s health. So why does she continue to dine at this restaurant?

Newly relocated Minx Tobin likes to help her friends. She also has a knack for solving puzzles. A huge puzzle in the form of a dead body soon gets dropped into her lap. Did waitress Brandi Evans murder her ex-boyfriend? Minx doesn’t think so, but can she crack the Case of the Bloodstained Bistro?

Overworked homicide lieutenant Gabe Harris has his fill of women... and dead bodies. The women he can handle. The dead bodies-- unfortunately they keep piling up. But on this particular case he meets a young woman that not only impedes his investigation, but she also has no interest in him. A healthy ego like his can’t handle that. He’ll have to keep an eye on Ms. Minx Tobin.

Scene Set-Up:
On a whim, Homicide lieutenant Gabe Harris offers to take Minx Tobin, a woman involved with a murder suspect, to dinner.

The Tobin woman had been surprised by his offer of dinner, but not as surprised as he was himself. Gabe drove onto Santa Monica Boulevard all the while wondering what the hell he had been thinking.

She'd been right; strictly speaking, about fraternizing with a suspect. He was mixing pleasure with official police business. Dynamite that was guaranteed to explode in his face.

He glanced over at his reluctant passenger. Sitting stiffly in the passenger seat, she held her handbag against her chest as if it were a shield offering protection.

Not that she'd need it against him; she wasn't his type. She was lean and athletic. He preferred his women to be of the buxom variety.

And, come to think of it, he might not be her type either. She seemed to have a preference for Brandi Evans' company.

"Where are we going to eat?" Minx asked, turning her dark eyed gaze on him.

Minx. What a helluva name. She hadn't like it when he used it. Her plump lips had turned down imperceptibly. He'd noticed though. It was his job to be observant.

He stopped at a light and looked over at her again. "I thought since we both seem to gravitate toward Valentin's, we'd go there."

She didn't comment. By the narrowing of her eyes, he could tell she was in a snit. Perhaps he couldn't blame her. She'd just eaten at the bistro last night, although she wasn't aware that he knew that fact.

He parked alongside Valentin's and turned off the engine before noticing the sign on the door proclaiming the bistro to be closed.

"That's strange," he said, more to himself than to the woman.

"It certainly is," she agreed. "I was just here last night. I sure hope it's not closed permanently."

Gabe started up the car again. "Maybe Valentin had an emergency." Whatever was the reason, he'd have to check it out. Later.

So now what? This little tête-à-tête with Minx Tobin was turning out to be a really lousy idea.


Hope you enjoy!

Susanne Marie Knight

Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist

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(PG excerpt) Revisiting The Science Fiction Romance AN ALIEN PARADISE


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Science Fiction Romance

NEW PRICE!! $3.99.

Buy Link:
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Teacher Petra Richardson receives a mysterious summer job offer. If she tutors a young boy, Traynor, all her expenses will be paid during her stay in the Galápagos Islands. Although she has misgivings, she agrees. Her new employer is the Taurus City Travel Agency, run by Traynor’s hunky Uncle Kelvin, whom she’d met and fantasized about when she was a teen. While romance simmers between Petra and Kelvin, there’s also danger. Who sabotaged their kayak? What happened to Traynor’s poomba? Why do some travel clients seem to flicker?

Just what is going on at this sleepy outpost in the South Pacific?

Kelvin Lacertus has a full plate. CEO of the Taurus City Travel Agency, he oversees alien and extraterrestrial Human tourists to Planet Terra. He’s handling the most important diplomatic conference in the galaxy. And he’s babysitting his nephew, Traynor. Kelvin arranges for a tutor, little Petra, whom he remembers from his Grand Tour of Terra years ago. She’d impressed him then. The grown-up version is even more irresistible. How can he protect his Petra when a terrorist group targets all Lacertus family members including his would-be bride?

Scene Set-Up:
Extraterrestrial Kelvin Lacertus meets the tutor he hired for his rambunctious nephew.

Kelvin Lacertus sunk his chin in his hand. Here was a devil of a situation. He was responsible for the whole of the Tau Ceti or rather Taurus City enterprise here on Terra, yet he held no sway whatever over a five-year-old boy.


The doorbell ran throughout the house. No time to wallow in inappropriate thoughts.

He corralled his nephew with a few well-chosen words, and then they both walked through the sliding glass doors into the living room to await Petra Richardson. As soon as sounds were heard at the living room door, however, Tray darted back outside.

That boy is in serious need of discipline.

But that thought completely vanished as Kelvin watched the willowy woman enter the room. He sharply inhaled. The enchanting fifteen-year-old waif he remembered had grown into a beauty that took his breath away. Her dark hair, parted in the middle, hung down in cascading waves just past her shoulders. Still slender, still petite, she wore a camisole top and matching covering tied at her narrow waist, along with a long gauzy skirt. Her sandaled toes peeped out from under the hem.

She walked in as a goddess might, strong and confident in her appearance. As well she should. She was like the Greek goddess Artemis--wild, determined, and pure.

He raked her with his gaze, inhaling her flowery fragrance. There was something special about Terran women. He’d always believed that. But more so with this Terran woman. Something elemental, something primordial. Something that appealed to every sense that a man possessed.

Her eyes, a mixture of butterscotch and honey, widened at seeing him.

She remembered him. Good.

Kelvin stepped forward and extended his hand. “I am charmed to see you, Ms. Richardson. Although we have met before, yes?”

The slightest blush colored her high cheeks. She shook his hand. “Yes, a very long time ago. I’m flattered that you remember me, sir.”

Her shake was firm, her skin warm. Her touch engendered a tickling sensation--one that penetrated down to his innermost regions. He held her gaze. “But of course I do. You were a most engaging child.”

He then turned toward the windows and watched his nephew scurry down the deck making guttural bird cries. This time Tray had found two branches that had fallen off a palm tree. One in each hand, he flapped them, making a jump every so often as if to take off to the skies.

“There is your new charge, Ms. Richardson. As you can see, my nephew is a lively child with a vivid imagination. Unfortunately, he just had a run in with a pair of scissors. His hair lost the battle.”

She walked over to the sliding glass door and looked out, obviously watching for the boy’s next turn around the deck. When Tray came back around, he waved a palm branch at her.

“He’s darling! A typical boy,” she exclaimed.

Kelvin withheld his comment. Tray wasn’t exactly typical.

Tapping her finger against her chin, she tilted her head. “Tell you what. Another pair of scissors can fix the damage. Do you have clippers? Hair-cutting gear? I’d be happy to give Traynor a trim. I often cut my father’s hair.”

“I’ll have the equipment brought in. I admit to being curious as to how you will persuade an active child to sit still for a haircut.” Kelvin gestured toward the white contemporary couch. “Come, let’s sit. I’m being an inattentive host. Would you care for some refreshments? Coffee? Iced tea? Something stronger?”

Petra glided over, sat on the cushions, and then placed her handbag next to her. She smoothed her skirt’s material down at her knees. “Thank you, no. I’m fine.”
He mixed himself a vodka tonic, splashed in a lime slice, and then sat adjacent to her in one of the white contour chairs. Leaning back, he studied her.

She glanced around the large room.  “Mr. Lacertus, I can’t, for the life of me, figure this out. Why did you choose me to tutor your nephew?”

He started to speak, but she held up her slim hand. “I need to know the real reason, if you don’t mind.”

“The real reason,” he repeated. Stalling for time, he took a refreshing sip of his drink. “Well, first, please call me Kelvin.”

Her eyes crinkled up and her shoulders hunched forward, ever so slightly. Why was that?

“My name amuses you?”

She flushed. “You do know your name is a measurement of absolute thermodynamic temperature?”

Petra Richardson was of a literal mind; he explicitly remembered that about her. She was also a science teacher, through and through.

“Indeed it is, Petra, if I may. And if I gage the temperature in this room correctly, it is not only sixty eight degrees Fahrenheit, but also can be stated as two hundred and ninety four Kelvin.”

She tapped her sandaled foot on the plush, cream-colored carpet. “I’ll take your word for it. You very neatly avoided my question.”

“So I did. Astute of you to notice.” He took another cool sip, and then set his glass down on a side table. “If you truly want to know--
“I do.”

He couldn’t tell her the real reason. What the devil could he say?


Hope you enjoy!

Susanne Marie Knight
Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist!
Now Available: AN ALIEN PARADISE, science fiction romance
Planet Earth is a jewel that must be shared!

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Revisiting The Science Fiction Romance ALIEN HEAT (PG excerpt)


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Science Fiction Romance

Price: $3.99
Print: $12.95

Buy Link:
Available electronically at:

Available in print at:

All women love these flowers... but the feeling's *not* mutual.

A cataclysmic bombardment by meteorites drastically alter Earth's atmosphere... and bring strange alien plants that have a mind of their own. Because of “mutant” powers, only Glyneth recognizes the threat these Venusian flowers pose not just to humans, but to Earth itself.

Major Lucas Jefferson reluctantly abducts Glyneth as a breeder for his country. But "Lady Bulldog" teaches him that might is not always right. Can he learn from this villager to fulfill the ancient prophecy of uniting the old ways with the new?

Scene Set-Up:
Major Lucas Jefferson's mission is to invade a "primitive" village and abduct women. In this scene, Glyneth, the unwilling victim, escapes, but then returns to help him after he has been knocked unconscious by an outside force.

When Glyneth reached for the binding cloth, the man held onto her wrist with an unrelenting grip. “No. Stay. I must... thank you.” His uniform shirt was tight without the armor, and through the thin material she saw bulging biceps, powerful pectorals, and a host of manly muscles.

She gulped down hard. She felt so strange around this man. Unfamiliar emotions stabbed at her, causing confusion.

No! This won’t do. I must control myself.

She took a deep breath, then glanced at her hand, neatly imprisoned within his grasp. “Perhaps you can thank me by releasing me?”

He let her go, but continued to pinion her to the spot with his mesmerizing gaze. “This much I can do. As for allowing you to return to your village, no. That would not be for the best.”

“It would be best for me.” Warily eying him, she took a chance on his weakened state and sat a yard away from him.

“No,” he repeated as if his word was law. “You will be honored in my province of Columont. Doubly so because you rescued an heir of the ten sons of Canusa.”

The ten sons of Canusa. Glyneth scratched at the fake scar on her forehead, then released her hair from the restricting ponytail. Not having her head covered in a man’s presence made her feel extremely vulnerable.

Canusa, he had said. Somehow, that word sounded familiar. “Who is Canusa? Does that mean you are a prince?”

“The original Canusa was the most holy of holies. Out of the ten sons--or the ten ruling families--one is elected to reign as the new Canusa.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, then winced with pain, probably because of his upper arm. “It is true, I am nobly born.”

“Not a true warrior then.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I thought so.”

His eyes narrowed, glittering dangerously. “You wound me again, woman. Make no mistake, you shall not escape me a second time.”

“You’re in no condition to threaten me! Sweet Christmas, I saved your life! Allow me to return home and we can call the debt paid.” Standing, she pointed her finger at him in an accusing manner. “Believe me, I don’t want your double honor.”

Before she could blink, he was on his feet, towering over her. With one quick movement, he twisted her arm against her back. “We shall call it paid now. By rights I should kill you for your insults.”

Oh, how her arm did hurt. But she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. “Kill me because of words?” Due to his superior height, she lifted her head up to stare long and hard at his cold, blue eyes. “You come from a savage people.”

“Savage?” he shot back. “That is ironic coming from an uncivilized villager.”

“Well, if being civilized means going around stealing women, you’re right. We’re not civilized.”

The man paused. Raking his gaze over her, he released her arm, then did a quick walkabout where they stood, scanning the rock formations in the dark. “Raiding your village is not something we wish to do but it is necessary for our survival.”

“And so that makes it acceptable, hmmn?” For some perverse reason, she was enjoying herself. Fighting with words was far more exhilarating than thrusting with swords.

He ran his hand over his unbandaged hair and changed the subject. “You look different, woman.”

If she wasn’t scared before, the peculiar gleam in his eyes scared her now. “It’s nighttime, in case you haven’t noticed. Everything looks different in the dark. “If you’ll excuse me--”

Cold metal snapped painfully hard against her left wrist. It was a silver bracelet, cruelly imprisoning her. He snapped a duplicate one, connected by a chain, on his own wrist. “Handcuffs,” he explained. “So you cannot refuse the honor waiting for you back at my province.”

Wild, fiery fury consumed her. “How dare you--”

“I dare anything to bring my prize back to Columont.” With his free hand, he rubbed his forehead. “Good offensive move, by the way. Called a head butt, I believe. By thunder, it still hurts. But not as much as the blow....”

He yanked on the handcuffs, pulling her along. “Never mind. Come. We will find a spot to rest for the remainder of the night. I could use a good sleep.”

Trailing behind like a stubborn mule, she dug in her heels, but it was no use. She was no match for his strength, even in his weakened, fevered state.

The man headed for an area soft with undulating sand. “Your actions do your village proud. Plucky little thing.” He sat down, giving her no choice but to follow suit. “I was not wrong to select you. Quite an improvement without those bulldog cheeks. Your color has also improved, but you could use more padding on your bones.”

She flared her nostrils. “Let me go.”

Instead of answering, he reached over and flattened his palm against her breast.

“Get away from me, you... you beast!” Tears springing to her eyes, she shoved him away with her unshackled hand. 

Surprisingly, he did not pursue her, but settled down into the sand. “That is rather difficult to do with handcuffs binding us. No matter. I am relieved to know you have more padding on your chest than I originally thought. Your future mate will be pleased.”

How could she lie down next to this monster? Imbuing her words with all the venom she felt, she hissed, “I hate you.”

Although his eyes were closed, he curved his lips into a smile. “I know. Good-night.”

And blast the man, but the next minute, he started snoring!

Glyneth chewed on the fingernails of her free hand, trying to figure her next move. She raised her left arm, only to drag his arm up, too. There was nothing else to do but ease down on the sand and close her eyes. The man had won this round. But, she still had hope. As the ancient saying went, tomorrow was another day.


Hope you enjoy!

Susanne Marie Knight

Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist

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Re-Released! Regency Time-Travel Romance REGENCY SOCIETY REVISITED (excerpt PG)

At last! An honest-to-goodness time machine. :))


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Time-Travel Regency

Available electronically at Amazon.com and Smashwords.com

Price: $4.99

Buy link:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XKKZ5YT http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/710820

The future and the past collide! Anthropologist Serenity Steele meets her heart’s desire in the form of a short-tempered Regency rake, Nicholas Wycliffe.

Duty or Love? In the year 2020, anthropologist Serenity Steele's research assignment is to travel back into the past--however, she doesn't count on the many attractions of a certain Regency rake. Should she ignore her obligations and stay in the past... or should she leave behind the man she loves?

An Enchanting Dilemma: Nicholas Wycliffe, the toplofty Lord Brockton, has no desire to take a wife, especially a mysterious widow who doesn't live by society's rules. But what is he to make of the enchanting "Mrs." Steele, who not only refuses to discuss her past, she also has the audacity to turn him down when he proposes marriage?

Scene Set-Up:
On assignment in the past, Serenity attends her first “haut ton” ball. As she studies the notorious rake, Nicholas Wycliffe, Lord Brockton, she finds him studying her.

Inhaling deeply, Serenity relaxed for the first time this evening and looked over at her companion. Amazing how he should have taken offense at her words... but he didn’t.

What was he thinking? She admired his profile: the high forehead, straight nose, and his smooth, well-defined jaw. His features, though, gave no clue to his internal thoughts.

She exhaled again. Of course it was unwise to relax in the presence of a rake, but then again, how else would she see how a professional seducer practiced his art? Something told her she wouldn’t have long to wait.

While she was looking up at the moon of the nineteenth century, Brockton stepped closer and brushed her ear with his lips.

Suddenly she was no longer curious. An image of a brilliant peacock feather tickling her skin exploded in her mind. She frantically chased it away. Why did she always have these bouts of synesthesia--the blending of the senses--when she needed all her wits about her?

“That’s not a good idea.” Retreating from him, she stumbled on the carpet of grass surrounding the walkway.

He firmly gathered her back onto the path and they continued their walk, crunching small stones beneath their feet--the only sounds that broke the quiet.

“You are right, of course. Not a good idea. Please forgive my momentary madness, my girl. Blame my lapse of good manners on this romantic atmosphere.”

A smile lurked about the corners of his mouth. He seemed so sure of himself--so certain she would respond to him. Certain of success.

Anger coursed through her veins. “I am neither!” she denied hotly.

“Neither what?”

“Neither yours nor a girl.” She left his side again, but the darkness seemed almost tangible. The blackness of night distorted the manicured yew hedges into maniacal shapes. As the wind rustled close-cropped leaves, it was easy to imagine pairs of hands reaching out--grabbing her.

Shivering, she quickly returned to his comforting, yet infuriating nearness.

“You are too literal with your words, are you not, Mrs. Steele?” A wolfish grin showed he enjoyed her unease. He circled his arm around her waist.

His touch felt warm through her silky gown. Again she saw that peacock feather. When his fingers gently kneaded her skin, she flinched.

“We should be getting back now. If you please.” She placed some space between them.

Her report on a libertine’s motus operanti would have to be glaringly omitted from the monograph. She was too nervous, too affected, and right now she didn’t have time to study her reactions. Escape was utmost in her mind. “I’ve heard it’s not at all the thing for a lady to be alone with a rake for any length of time.”

The term “rake” failed to trouble him. Probably had been called worse!

“Is that how you see me? As a rake and a rutting buck?” He stopped walking, leaned closer to her, and then with his fingertip, slowly traced an imaginary line down her forehead, nose, and stopped on her lips.

She moved her head. “I don’t know you well enough to venture an opinion. But we do need to return before anyone notices our absence.”

“You can start getting to know me by calling me ‘Nicholas.’“

He drew her closer. She tried to push him away, but he held her tighter. Leaning down to nuzzle her ear with his nose, he whispered, “And I shall call you ‘Serry.’ What is that short for?”
Without waiting for an answer, his lips met hers.

Omigosh! She trembled--all the way down to her core. After a brief hesitation, her lips opened slightly, welcoming him.

He deepened the kiss and their heated breaths mingled.

Without meaning to, Serenity moaned. Snuggling closer, she drank in the taste of Nicholas Wycliffe.

Alive. She finally felt alive.

He tightened his arms around her, tilting her head back and exploring the inner recesses of her mouth.

A flash of bold colors--crimson reds, scarlet pinks, and flaming oranges--rose up in her mind. Percussionist cymbals clashing sounded in her ears. As their mouths melded, her senses slowly spun out of her control....

Colors? Cymbals?

Her heart pounding a path out of her body, she shook her head to clear the last traces of the vision and then opened her eyes. Sanity returned. She roughly pulled back from Brockton and his potent kiss.

The truth was obvious: Nicholas Wycliffe was responsible for plunging her into a world of synesthesia. His touch--no one else’s. Just his touch turned her upside down, inside out.

Good heavens! What should she do now?

She slid her hands down her gown, ostensibly to straighten her garment, but in reality, she needed to steady her trembling body.

As she did, he watched her. His eyes held a peculiar expression and his hands were tightly clenched by his sides. Looking at him, she was mesmerized by the light of the full moon dancing brightly on his dark, wavy curls. She had to say something. Had to pretend his kiss meant nothing to her. Which was true, right? Absolutely nothing.

She flicked her tongue over her lips before speaking. A mistake. She tasted him again.

“Um, since you asked, Serry stands for Serenity. Now, if I understand Society’s conventions correctly, this outing could compromise you... and me. We don’t want that to happen, so I’ll do us both a favor and leave. We’ll forget about this...” Her voice cracked. “...this interlude by tomorrow. Good-night, Lord Brockton.”

Moving as swiftly as she could, she returned to the sanctuary of the ballroom.


Happy Reading!

Susanne Marie Knight
Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist! 

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Re-Released! Award-Winning Paranormal Romance THE COMING (PG excerpt)

Dream Realm Award WINNER For Best Speculative Fiction Romance


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Paranormal Romantic Suspense

Price: $3.99

Buy Link:
Available electronically at:

IMPOSSIBLE LOVE: After scattering her beloved grandfather’s ashes in the Caribbean, Larissa Parish is swept overboard and washes up on a deserted island. She comes face to face with a man who, most impossibly, is her grandfather’s cohort from World War II. Can she learn to fully give herself to this mouthwatering 40s hunk… and also figure a way to leave this outpost in the Bermuda Triangle?

DIFFERENT GENERATIONS: Army Air Force pilot, Jack Harrington, can’t believe his good luck when he spots Larissa in the waters by his desert island. Stranded for what he believes is five years, he thinks her daft because she seems to have forgotten World War II. Can he come to terms with the news that he’s a “1940s retread” and convince himself that Larissa could love him, no matter how “old” he is?

Scene Set-Up:
Scene Setup: Jack Harrington, marooned on a desert island for what he thinks is five years, finds Larissa Parish, who’s been swept overboard from a yacht.

About to take the plunge, he spotted something bobbing in the distance. What the hell? Squinting into the setting sunlight, he saw that the object was orange.

Orange like a lifejacket. And by all that was holy, this lifejacket had arms!

Without a second thought, he sliced through the water toward the object--the person. “Christ, please be alive,” he prayed, stroke after stroke. Digging another grave alongside his two friends held no appeal whatsoever.

But for right now, the only thing that mattered was closing the gap that separated him and this person in distress. Quickly reaching his goal, he then smoothed back dripping hair splayed every which way over the victim’s face.

For a moment, his heart stopped as solidly as his watch had. It was a girl, the most exquisite girl in all the world. Of course, he was pragmatic enough to realize that any girl would have been exquisite after five years of abstinence. Even one with blue lips like this poor creature had.

Wasting no time, he swiftly towed his precious cargo to shore.

Dear Christ, she wasn’t breathing. She was as limp as a rag doll, so he lifted her chin to tilt her head back and begin mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. But that lifejacket prevented him from seeing if her lungs were rising with the forced air.

Using his free hand, he fumbled with the fastenings, then tore off the jacket....

Sweet baby Jesus! Jack’s heart actually constricted. This girl had a body on her to die for--

No time for that, his mind screamed. Exhaling into her mouth, he counted to five and forced air into her again. “C’mon, baby. You can do it,” he urged between breaths.

But although that curvy chest of hers rose, he still didn’t hear her exhale.

“Do it for me. Breathe!” Panic rushed into his voice.

She was so lovely laying there, a dusting of sand against her cheek bone, her long dark hair heavy with water and grit. He took another moment to scan her skimpy one-piece swimsuit... and swallowed his astonishment. Female fashions must’ve really changed since he last hit USA’s sweet shores. This suit was skirtless--cut extremely high on the leg, leaving very little to the imagination.

He wiped the sweat from his brow. Yeah, she was lovely all right, but so damn lifeless.

She couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let her. In between breaths, he roughly shook her by her shoulders. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to do, but he couldn’t just let her slip away. Fear--cold and heartless--froze his soul.

“Damn it to hell, babe, come on! Cut the crap! Breathe!”

He willed her back to life; he made her suck that air into her lungs and spit it out again. His reward was at first a slow rise, then fall of those delicious, rounded breasts.

As she took deeper breaths, she started coughing until she was fully and beautifully conscious. And now awake, she stared at him, as if not comprehending what had just transpired.

Under the scrutiny of those blazing green eyes, he must’ve turned red, but hell, his unkempt beard hid a multitude of sins.

She propped herself up on her elbows and lifted a feathery eyebrow. “Do you always swear at strangers?”


Hope you enjoy!

Susanne Marie Knight

Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist

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It's RELEASE DAY for HER TRUE MATCH, the newest book in the X-OPS SERIES!

It's release day for HER TRUE MATCH, the newest book in  my X-OPS Series, and I couldn't be more excited! This is Dreya and Braden's story, the elusive feline shifter/cat burglar the only cop who can catch her. To say anymore would be giving you spoliers, but I can tell you that this book changes everything!

When feline shifter Dreya Clark is escorted from the police interrogation by two secret agents, she thinks she's dodged a bullet. That sexy detective Braden Hayes caught her stealing red-handed. When she finds out what she has to do to stay out of jail, suddenly she's missing the hot cop with the piercing gaze. She's being recruited for her shifter abilities by the Department of Covert Operations.


Braden has been chasing the smart-mouthed cat burglar for years. But when Dreya's taken away, he knows their game of cat and mouse has turned deadly-serious. There's no way he'll let her go off alone. Fur flies and temperatures flare as Braden realizes Dreya is much more than she appears. Thrown together on a dangerous covert mission, this unlikely pair will have to rely on each other to make it out alive.

Read the First FIVE Chapters FREE!

HER TRUE MATCH is Available in Paperback and eBook at These Online Stores

To celebrate the release of HER TRUE MATCH, the newest book in my X-OPS Series, I’m giving away FIVE Signed Paperbacks of the first five books in the series (HER PERFECT MATE, HER LONE WOLF, HER WILD HERO, HER FIERCE WARRIOR and HER ROGUE ALPHA) to one lucky winner!

Click on the link below to enter!


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Re-Released! Paranormal Romance PAST INDISCRETIONS (PG excerpt)


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Paranormal Romantic Suspense

Price: $3.99

Buy Link:
Available electionically at:

Past Loves, Past Lives, PAST INDISCRETION!
Haunted by recurring nightmares of doom, Savannah Alexander learns that the future and past are irrevocably linked. Will she be able to save herself and the man she has grown to love from the horrors that await her back in time... on the lost continent of Atlantis?

In matters of love, Tom Patterson has been hurt before. But when overwhelming coincidences bring Savannah back into his life, can he put aside his prejudices and act upon faith to protect the woman he loves?

Scene Set-Up:
A series of “coincidences” brings childhood friends Savannah and Tom back to her grandmother’s house in a small town. Neither of them recognize each other. Savannah (S.E.) meets Tom’s daughter, Wendy, and invites them to have dinner with her at her grandmother’s house.

Something was happening to Tom. Something he didn’t understand. Maybe it was the domestic routine or perhaps the homey atmosphere. He’d wanted to find those things when he’d married seven years ago, but marital bliss had eluded him.

He ran his hand through his hair. That failure was in the past. Tonight, his bizarre frame of mind was due to S.E. He agreed with his daughter; the initials didn’t do the woman justice. She was beauty personified, looking cool and luscious in a silk designer blouse and sexy crepe slacks.

Standing in back of her as she efficiently handwashed the dishes, he fought an urge to spin her around and kiss the living daylights out of her.

Madness! What the devil was wrong with him?

To prevent his hands from wandering over her tempting body, he jammed them into his pockets. “This morning, who would’ve guessed Wendy and I would be here in East Prairie tonight, having supper in this house, with a beautiful stranger?”

He hadn’t intended to mention the word beautiful but it just slipped out. Holding his breath, he waited for S.E.’s reaction.

It was slow in coming. She finished rinsing off the dishes, then dried her hands on a towel. “If that’s a compliment, Dr. Patterson, I thank you.”

Their gazes held. This time, when he lowered his voice, it was to convey his desire. “No, I thank you.”

Her lips parted. It was a sign; she wanted him, too. At least he hoped that was so. He closed the scant distance between them and placed his hands on her shoulders. Dear Lord, the merest touch of her made his head reel. He leaned closer. “S.E., I--”

The blasted phone rang. S.E. arched her feathery eyebrow and whispered, “It’s for you.”


Hope you enjoy!

Susanne Marie Knight
Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist

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Re-Released! Science Fiction Romance JANUS IS A TWO-FACED MOON (PG excerpt


Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Science Fiction Romance

Price: $3.99

Buy Link:
Available electronically at:

BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE. In the year 2458, injured ballerina Blade Sinclair agrees to participate in the Galactic Olympic Games. Unfortunately, she’s on the wrong team; an alien team. If Blade doesn’t win a gold medal, her family will die. If Blade does win, the Sarthox will destroy Earth. What’s a girl to do??

LOVE HURTS. Security chief Christopher Bainbridge has had his share of traitorous females. At the Lunar Olympic Games, he finds himself mixed up with another one. But Blade doesn’t seem like a typical traitor, and against his own inclinations, he falls in love with her. How can he help her escape from the Sarthox and save the solar system at the same time?

Scene Set-Up:
Blade has just received *very* alarming news from attractive but disapproving security chief Christopher Bainbridge. Discussing him with her roommate, Heidi, Blade will soon learn about Heidi’s connection to Christopher.

Despite the lower gravity, Blade dragged her feet to the Olympic Village apartment. The time was almost eight at night, and she’d been going strong since six in the morning.

She opened the door, stepped inside, and waited. Absolute silence greeted her; her roommate Heidi must’ve still been out. Good. Blade didn’t need any distractions as she mulled over the events of the day.

Not the least of which was the encounter with Christopher Bainbridge.

Sitting on a heavy duty plastic chair, she removed her tattered ballet slippers and winced at the new blisters and welts appearing on her toes. Air ballet routines were not completely performed up in the air, and dancing on pointe on the ground was always hard on the feet.

She took out her handy survival kit and wrapped every toe, especially the pinkie, with medical tape.

“Whoa! What in the cosmos did you do to your feet, featherweight?”

Blade sighed. Heidi stood in the doorway. By her messy hairdo and droopy eyelids, it was obvious that she had been sleeping in her bedroom.

“An occupational hazard.” Blade finished her feet pampering with a brisk massage using a scented lotion. “It looks worse than it is. You get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t be able to run if my feet looked like yours.” Heidi yawned. “I had a great practice today. How was yours?”

“It was okay.” Blade made an automatic reply.

Unfortunately her coach, Plevake, was absent for practice, and a new partner always took some getting used to. But the son, Jevake... well, he was different in an indefinable way. While his dancing technique contained no flaws, it contained no passion either.

She shivered as she recalled his cold touch. Instinctively, her skin crawled, for if what Christopher Bainbridge said was true, then Jevake and his father were inhuman--alien.

But how could that be? If the Sarthox were aliens, then that meant Blade was competing in the Olympics against Humanity.

She closed her eyes tightly for a second. Please, no. That can’t be so...

While she wasn’t overly patriotic, she was Human, after all. Here was a line she didn’t want to cross.

Heidi left her seat to stare straight into Blade’s face. “What’s wrong? You seem preoccupied.”

“It’s nothing.” Blade removed her leg-warmers, then headed into the bathroom to peel off her leotard. “I just met a really disagreeable person today.”

Heidi pulled a chair over and sat outside the bathroom while Blade showered. “Oooh, dirt! Dish it up. Tell me all. I bet your disagreeable person is a man. Is he hunky? Does he make your hormones roar?”

Blade lathered up, then rinsed off. Water was a precious commodity on the Moon. Only the wealthy had unlimited access.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” she lied over the rush of water. “But, yep, he was one hundred percent man.” She’d give Bainbridge that compliment anyway. “He had the nerve to question me about my... Olympic associates. And he disapproved of me. He even said he hoped I didn’t win.”

“What a scurvy knave!” Heidi stood and flexed her muscles. “I’ll punch the dirtbag out. Who does he think he is? Only security personnel have the authority to ask questions about Olympic stuff.”

Ouch. Blade slipped into a terrycloth robe and towel-dried her long hair. “To tell you the truth, the guy did mention he was security.”

Heidi harrumphed. “That doesn’t give him the right to put you down, or disapprove of you, even if he carries a badge. Maybe it’s counterfeit, anyway. My brother’s GCC security, too. I’ll ask him to check--”

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll just--” A doorbell sounded. “I’ll get the door.”

Glad to leave that discussion behind, Blade rushed out through the living room into the entryway. The whole situation was disturbing--Jevake, aliens, Sarthox... Christopher Bainbridge.

She opened the door. “Hel... lo.”

Holy cow, it was him, Bainbridge. All six foot two of him. Even in the dim corridor light, the sight of his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and slim hips caused her to unthinkingly lick her lips.

Stop it!

She’d seen plenty of well-physiqued men before; her ballet company had been full of them. But this man, he made her insides quiver.

“Miss Sinclair, may I come in?” He stood with his arms folded against that powerful chest.

“Why?” She hadn’t meant to be rude. Her question just popped out.

But then after all, she’d had a very trying day. The expression “dead tired” must’ve been created just for her.

A vein pulsed on his right temple. “I have a few more questions to ask you.”

She tightly bunched the edges of her robe together at her neck, then stepped aside to let him in. Never normally prudish, she felt an unaccustomed shyness creep over her. Being clad only in a robe with her hair still dripping water did nothing to bolster her confidence.

“Is this about Plevake Va-Thor?”

He turned his high watt gaze on her and didn’t answer her question. “Were you at--”

“Who was at the door?” Heidi barged into the room like a bulldozer. “I hope it wasn’t that dirtbag.”

Blade flushed. Somehow this bad situation got worse.

Heidi stormed over to them, then her mouth nearly dropped to the floor. “Chris!” she squeaked as she threw herself at the man. “It’s so good to see you.”

Bainbridge looked uncomfortable as he gently but firmly detached Heidi from his person. He darted his gaze to Blade, then looked back at Heidi.

“Heidi.” He cleared his throat. “Is this where you’re staying?”

“Sure thing. Y’know I left a message for you that my housing assignment was color-coded red.” She slapped Bainbridge on the back with the blow that would’ve crumpled Blade. He didn’t flinch, however. “This is great! Perfect! Chris can help you with that swine you were telling me about.”

Oh. Blade must’ve blazed redder than a case of tomatoes. The worse situation just got even worse.

“Um, Heidi, I didn’t say that.”

Heidi shook her head, making her short hair dance. “No, no. You don’t have to worry. Chris’ll take care of everything. He’s my brother.”

Her brother? Of all the people in the entire galaxy.... Yep, everything was going to hell in a handbasket now.

Not looking at him, Blade muttered, “Great.” Was there a convenient hole she could crawl in?

“C’mon, let’s sit.” Heidi went over to the VR window and selected an image. The picture of soil and farm buildings immediately appeared--a view from her home planet.

“Chris, this is my roommate, Blade. She told me about this guy--”

“Miss Sinclair and I have already met.” He sat on the couch and folded his arms across his chest again. “And I can imagine what she said.”

Puzzlement furrowed Heidi’s brow so Blade explained. “It was your brother who questioned me.” She hesitated a second, then turned to Bainbridge. “Listen, I didn’t say you were a swine.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

She fingered a wet strand of hair. “I’ll get dressed while you two catch up.”

Hurrying into the bedroom, she flung the door shut, then fell back against it. Her emotional side scolded: Well, you really stepped in it, didn’t you Blade?


Hope you enjoy!

Susanne Marie Knight

Read outside the box: award-winning Romance Writing With A Twist

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