Re-Visiting LORD DARVER’S MATCH (excerpt PG)


LORD DARVER’S MATCH

Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Time-Travel Regency

Available electronically at Amazon.com and Smashwords.com

Price: $4.99

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Blurb:
AN INNOCENT WISH--Little did modern day Hillary Logan realize when she made her innocent wish for a happy marriage, that she’d be waking up in bed next to a handsome nobleman--in 1815. Struggling to adjust to Regency England, she teaches the dashing marquess a thing or two about love and “a woman’s place.”

A PLEASANT DIVERSION--Seeking a diversion from the ongoing horrors of the Napoleonic Wares, Simon Altmont, looks forward to a liaison with the attractive woman in his bed. She would make a perfect new mistress! He soon learns just how different his mysterious Mrs. Logan really is. Has the Marquess of Darver finally met his match?

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.

Excerpt:
Hillary’s cheeks radiated heat. She knew her face had to be the color of her nightshirt--shocking pink. She was standing there half-naked in front of the most desirable man she’d ever come across--and a stranger to boot.

She fingered the long line of buttons at her bodice. “I wish you’d hurry. I’m uncomfortable enough as it is without you eyeballing me.”

Her frankness surprised her. She shrugged it off as a case of the nerves. Who, in her position, wouldn’t be nervous? Who, in her position, wouldn’t be nervous?

The man unsuccessfully turned his laughter into a cough, and then he gave her that lopsided grin again. “Certainly, my dear. Although I must say I have never heard such a quaint manner of speaking. I find the term ‘eyeballing’ quite expressive, to be sure.”

She tapped her foot. How dare he make fun of her speech when he sounded so... so British!

His eyes gleamed with mischief. “And such unusual night attire. I have never seen the like. Not that you do not look fetching.”

Hillary wanted to strangle him. Through clenched teeth, she commanded, “Hurry up!”

“Impatient, m’dear?” He completed his task and, properly covered by the robe, sauntered over to the door. “May I suggest you take position behind the door? When it comes to females, Finch can be disapproving. He does not understand that women can be necessary at times.”

The man knew he was infuriating. He knew it. Hillary frowned but followed his suggestion. His gaze moved over her bare feet, lower limbs, knees, and partially exposed thighs. She tried to pretend his scrutiny didn’t bother her but if her face got any hotter, she’d scorch her eyebrows.

He chuckled. “By the bye, shall I have a bottle of champagne sent up? To celebrate our good fortune? Or rather, my good fortune.”

She balled her fists. What she wouldn’t give to floor the man. But she was in no position to argue.

Eyeing her combat-ready hands, he raised one eyebrow. “No champagne? Perhaps you do not favor things that are French?”

“If you please.” She spat out the words.

Hi grinned, opened the door, and called out into the corridor. “Finch. Finch, old boy, are you up?”

Hillary heard a shuffling noise down the hallway. The shuffling stopped at the door. “Did you require me, my--”

“My good man,” her bedfellow interrupted. “I have a commission for you this early morn. I have an unexpected companion with me--a charming one, I might add. It seems she has misplaced her husband, Jim.”

He turned to her and used the door as a barrier to hide her from Finch. “Jim what, my dear?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

His eyes crinkled merriment at her predicament. Damn the man! Hillary concentrated on keeping her voice cool. “Jim Logan,” she said succinctly.

With his back to Finch, her tormentor curved a finger under her chin. “I have been remiss. We have not introduced ourselves. Simon Altmont, at your service.”

She met his gaze and ignored the fluttery sensations that zigzagged down her backbone. Hoping she showed no emotion, she raised her chin. “And I’m Mrs. Logan.”

His hearty laugh shook those massive shoulders. Releasing her chin, he bowed. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, my dear.”

Finch’s shuffle announced that he still waited. Mr. Altmont turned back to him. “I need you to ferret out this Jim Logan--discreetly, of course. If you have no success, then you must find some suitable clothes for Mrs. Logan to wear.”

As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, her stomach decided to roar. Even Finch must have heard it.

“Oh, and Finch,” Mr. Altmont drawled, “do bring Mrs. Logan and me some breakfast. We have worked up an appetite!”

Speechless, she stared at him. Had she heard right? How dare he imply....

In that moment, there was nothing Hillary wanted to do more than to murder the man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Reading!

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

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Revisitng the Paranormal Romance PAST INDISCRETIONS


PAST INDISCRETIONS

Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Paranormal Romantic Suspense

Price: $3.99

Buy Link:
Available electionically at:

Blurb:
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.

Excerpt:
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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Revisiting the Regency Romance PAGING MISS GALLOWAY

WINNER of the prestigious Awe-Struck Regency Award
and EPIC eBook Award Finalist for Best Historical Romance

PAGING MISS GALLOWAY

Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Regency

Available electronically at Amazon.com and Smashwords.com.

Price: $3.99

Buy link:
Available electronically at:

BLURB:
A determined young miss, a battle-weary lord, and a reckless masquerade. What will the Earl of Tremaine do when he discovers his page's shocking secret?

More Than She Bargained For--
Danielle Galloway is determined to visit her convalescing brother. She won't let her father's lack of permission stand in her way. Disguising herself as Danny, a servant boy, she takes to the road to begin her grand adventure...only to have her money stolen and her face battered by street ruffians. Now how will she get to the resort town of Bath?

More Than He Bargained For--
The Earl of Tremaine rescues a down-on-his-luck young lad. Against his better judgment, he takes Danny on as his page as he journeys to Bath. But this boy harbors a shocking secret. What's the earl going to do when he discovers his latest act of kindness might hurl him into the parson's mousetrap?

EXCERPT:
Danielle had a wonderful view of the earl's broad shoulders and his dark hair as he rested his head against the rim back of the hip bath. For a moment she watched him soap up a sponge and lather his muscular arms. The masculine scent of bay rum filled the air.

"Tell me about yourself, Danny. Beside doing odd jobs for the local gentry, what else do you do?"

She wanted to keep her gaze averted, yet, since she was behind him, he'd never know if she did peek.

The plip-plop sound of water dripping back into the tub as he glided the sponge over his skin teased her against all distraction. She bit her lip. Why did her nerves seem to be stretched to the limit?

"Um, some days I pass the time riding, my lord. I, um, fish, as well." Without her father's knowledge, of course. Fine ladies did not indulge in fishing.

"I see." The earl held up the sponge. "You may wash my back now."

Gracious, if her teeth didn't start to chatter! Still behind him, she took the sponge and he leaned forward so she could have better access.

As she lathered his back with fragrant soap, she admired the powerful contour of muscles. She would've stopped at his upper back, but he insisted she reach further down.

She gulped back her unease. She was in heaven and hell at the same time.

Then she noticed a jagged spot of mottled skin, just under the left shoulder blade. She gently ran her fingertips over its ribbed surface.

"My lord, what is this?" As soon as she spoke, she flushed. She had no right to ask a personal question.

Her impertinence didn't seem to bother him. "Shrapnel," was his immediate reply. "Sea battle back in March, near the island of Lissa."

"Where is Lissa?" Geography had never been her strong point.

He tilted his head back to laugh, a rich, baritone sound. "Ironic, is it not? My page has no idea just where in the world it was that I almost lost my life"

"Oh, I am so sorry! I did not--"

He raised his hand, splashing her with warm water. "No matter, halfling. I survived, as you can see. The island of Lissa is in the Adriatic Sea, an inconsequential pawn in our war against the French."

Shrugging his shoulders, he leaned his head forward. "Time to wash my  hair. Pour the water."

Danielle struggled with the heavy bucket, and as she poured, he ran the bar of soap over his hair. A sudsy white froth mixed in with the black and grey. Wisps of steam rose up from the hip bath, enveloping them both.

"Use the pitcher now to rinse," he ordered.

The brass pitcher was easier to pour, and soon his hair was clean.

Without warning, he stood, dripping water back into the bath. Then he stepped out. She blindly rushed for a thick Turkish towel and for his dressing gown. Hurrying back to him, all the while averting her gaze, she helped him into the robe.

As he tied the belt, he exclaimed, "Begad! Every blasted bone in my body feels as if I served time on an infamous torture rack. I shall sleep well tonight."

Danielle kept quiet. She'd managed to accomplish her tasks without violating Lord Trelaine's privacy. She congratulated herself.

He rubbed the towel over his head. When his hair was sufficiently dried, he threw the towel on the floor. Then he strode to the bed. "I shall retire now, Danny, even though the hour is still early. No doubt Raleigh plans to carouse until dawn. It is the curse of the young to be so foolish."

She rushed over and pulled back the bedsheets.

"Be a good lad and dispose of the hip bath. The remaining bucket of water is for you to wash off your travel dirt. Or use the hip bath, if you prefer."

Danielle eyed the water bucket, then the earl. She desperately needed a wash, but however could she manage it?

Before she could blink, he slipped under the covers without the benefit of his dressing gown. Nor a nightshirt. He rested matter-of-factly, on the mattress, in only the clothes God had given him.

Goodness! She couldn't help a fierce flush from burning her face. In all her twenty years on earth, she never had such an excessively bizarre day as she had today.

Then again, she'd never been dressed as a boy before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Reading!

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


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Revisiting SF Romance JANUS IS A TWO-HEADED GOD (PG excerpt)

JANUS IS A TWO-HEADED GOD

Author: Susanne Marie Knight

Genre: Science Fiction Romance

Price: $3.99

Buy Link:
Available electionically at:

Blurb:
Year: 2452. Seeking a cure for her ill brother, Sophia (Sam) McLaren must leave Earth to journey into the unknown. She finds galactic intrigue... plus a love transcending the vast expanse of space. But can she persuade JorVaal 5 that love can be forever?

JorVaal 5 Lanquist has a galactic catastrophe on his hands¾plus a headstrong female from the despised planet Earth. Will he be able to set aside age-old prejudices and admit he’s actually feeling an ancient emotion called love?

Scene Set-Up:
Newly arrived on the strange world of Xaspaar, Sophia hurries to meet her friend Fredd for lunch. The planet’s leader, JorVaal 5, who dislikes Earthers, isn’t aware of Sophia’s origin, and believes she agreed to meet him for a sexual encounter.

Excerpt:
Sam hurried down the shiny grey corridor as fast as she could. She tried not to stand out in the crowd, which was pretty hard to do with a Yankees’ cap sitting squarely on her head. While all the people passing her did have a spring to their step, evidently running was something that just wasn’t done. But she had to hurry; she was that late. It was really impolite to keep Fredd waiting.

She concentrated on keeping one foot in front of the other and refused to be distracted by the strange sights around her. Deep breaths fueled her motion. After leaving the Health Bureau, she’d gotten lost, of course. No surprise there. All these tunnels looked the same. All dim, sleek, and impersonal. And no windows. In fact, ever since arriving, she hadn’t had a glimpse of the outside.

Creepy.

She scratched her upper arm and kept her vision focused straight ahead. How could these people stand being sequestered away like this? Like worms. Even the Health Bureau where Mart was having tests done was windowless--no rooms with a view, no peepholes, nothing. She’d never experienced claustrophobia but if she didn’t get a chance to see at least some sky, she’d go nuts. This was like being buried alive.

Her heart thudded to keep up with her activity. Wiping away perspiration from her upper lip, she adjusted her cap once again. Central Control was supposed to be up ahead. Only a few more steps.

Without warning, a man stepped right in front of her. “Citizen... dear one, no need to continue your travels. Here I am.”

Unfortunately, her own personal brakes weren’t as effective as her reliable bicycle brakes back home. She bumped into whoever was foolish enough to block her way.

But circumstances demanded that she  apologize. “Excuse me--”

Oh, good heavens! It was him; it was JorVaal 5 Lanquist. Of all people to literally run into!

As she caught her breath, she had a chance to look him over. His athletic physique was again enhanced in the form-fitted GCC uniform. When he folded his arms across his massive chest, each movement rippled the velvet-like material of his shirt. Powerful thigh muscles bulged from the close-weave fabric of his pants.

Heavens, the man was impressive, all right. And just as handsome as she remembered.

But definitely not safe.

She took a good step back from him. “I, um, I do beg your pardon.” Her upper lip, previously wiped, now beaded up again with perspiration.

“No need, dear one.” He smiled and took her elbow. “I do not hold your tardiness against you. Come, we still have eighty-five point four minutes to the interval.”

His firm touch sent tingling sensations throughout her entire body. Pleasurable and alarming. But she could be firm as well. With her other hand, she disengaged her arm.

“I’m late, that’s true. But my appointment is with Fredd Desilva, not you. If you will excuse me.”

Ignoring the passersby’s curious appraisals and JorVaal’s surprised expression, she turned away intending to continue walking.

But he had other ideas. He gripped her upper arm, effectively stopping her movements and her blood supply.

“You are Fredd’s friend?”

She tilted her head at JorVaal. “Yes. Is that so odd?”

Lines of concentration marred his high forehead. “You cannot mean you prefer to be with him over me.”

His words were a statement, not a question. Of course it would have been terribly rude to laugh at his conceit, but his affronted expression sorely taxed her.

She sucked in her cheeks instead. “He’s my friend, and actually, to be perfectly frank, you and I haven’t even been introduced.”

He must have been aware that standing still in the middle of the corridor was attracting attention, although maybe he was used to people staring at him. Releasing her, he gestured for her to follow him.

As the direction was the same as Central Control, she complied.

“Explain to me why being acquainted has anything to do with satisfying biological appetites,” he demanded.

She glanced away to hide her smirk. Biological appetites! Another way to phrase making love.

Her mirth now under control, she looked him in the eye. “For one thing, knowing the person you’re eating with increases the chance to have a more stimulating conversation.”

He mulled over her words. “Yes, that is true. So you go to dine with Fredd. That is good, however, I was referring to coitus.”

She felt herself flush; she couldn’t help it. Who was used to plain speaking about such a private topic? Certainly not her. And certainly not with an extremely attractive man no matter what his opinion of himself was.

She twisted her top button open. “Um, I would have to say the same thing, then. The better you know a person, the better the, um, relationship.”

Goodness, did these people talk about everything so openly?

Thankfully, she spotted the doors for Central Control. Now she could escape! “Well, I have to go. Bye.”

JorVaal blocked her way again. With his size, he was good at that.

Resigned, she sighed. “Now what?”

His pale blue eyes seemed to pierce a hole in her. “As I am in need of release, I shall accommodate you in this formal fashion.” He inclined his head. “I am JorVaal 5 Lanquist.”

His silent “as if you didn’t know” hung heavily in the air. “And now,” he continued, “tell Fredd you will dine with him after we are finished.”

The nerve of the man! The laughter that she had been able to suppress before, now came tumbling out. JorVaal’s steely glare quickly silenced her.

With her lips quivering, she managed to say, “But you don’t know who I am, do you?”

Of course he didn’t. She’d heard of JorVaal’s distaste for “Earthers.” She’d bet a cool million once he found out who she was, he’d treat her like she had the plague.

“Inform me, then. This game grows tedious.”

“You’re so right. It does,” she agreed. “I am Sam McLaren. Pleased to meet you.”

She held out her hand for him to shake.

After a second, he gripped it with his. “McLaren?” His deep voice held a note of uncertainty.

Heaven help her but she couldn’t resist. “Yes, perhaps you’ve heard of me? Sophia Audrey McLaren. My brother Mart and I just arrived from Earth.” She gave him a wide grin. “Nice little planet you have here, JorVaal.”

His sallow complexion turned ghastly white and his jaw noticeably dropped.

As she neared the glass doors, they swished open. “Well, it’s been fun talking with you. See you around.”

It was only when the doors closed, that she allowed herself to laugh again. If she lived to be two hundred, she’d never forget the look of pure outrage on the man’s face!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoy!

Susanne Marie Knight

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

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