#Blast Dawn Ireland's The Perfect Duke

“Once Upon a Time” are four of Dawn’s favorite words. Her love of story became a love of romance when she read Georgette Heyer’s, Devil’s Cub. It inspired her to write stories with strong characters that discover love is never easy, but always worthwhile. Dawn’s written several award-winning novels set in Georgian England – an era filled with rules and intrigue. Her characters often defy “Society” as they pursue love, run away, pursue, run away – well, you get the idea.  

Then again, she might write romance in order to do the research. What other profession encourages you to sit in the audience at Harlequin’s Male Model search, and take notes, or just sigh?

Dawn lives in a Victorian home in Upstate New York with her husband and very independent cats. When she’s not writing, she’s singing, gardening, learning to play the harp or wood carving. If you’d like to learn more about Dawn and her novels, go to her website at www.dawn-ireland.com and her blog www.smpauthors.wordpress.com

One randomly chosen commenter will receive a $20 Amazon gift card.

Blurb:

Known as The Marble Duke amongst the Ton, Garret Weston, the Duke of Kendal sets himself apart from his peers. Nothing will hinder his guilt-driven attempt to become a perfect duke.  Nothing that is, save the alluring and imaginative betrothed he’d thought dead. His intended believes-of all things-that she is a Vicar’s daughter. The “perfect” duke needs a “perfect” duchess, but how was he to discern her suitability? Employing her as a governess to his niece seemed like an ideal solution. But whose “suitability” is being tested? His betrothed refuses to see he is beyond redemption. And most grievous of all, she stirs his blood, making him forget what’s important.

Cara believes fairy tales really can come true, until she meets the unrelenting and arrogant Duke of Kendal. He looks like a Prince, but acts like a Beast. Why must he challenge her at every turn? Her greatest peril is her attraction to the vulnerable, seductive man behind the title. A match between them would be impossible. But can she show him, without losing her heart, that “perfect” is in the eye of the beholder?  

Excerpt:

The duke peered down at her. “I asked Timmons to refrain from telling you about the servants’ lives.”

“You told him what?” Cara stood. “You had no right.”

“Actually, I have every right.”

For the first time in her life, Cara wanted to throw something at another human being. Fortunately, the oriental vase on the table closest to her was out of reach. “Tell me something. Do you relish being feared by your staff?”

He took a backward step. “That is ridiculous. They do not fear me.”

“Don’t they? And what makes you so sure?” Cara could not believe the man had no idea how he treated others. “When did you last speak to a footman?”

“I speak with them daily.”

“Don’t you mean ‘command’ them daily?” She’d witnessed the impersonal way he treated his staff. “I’m willing to wager you don’t even know one of their names.”

“Charles.”

Cara crossed to within inches of him. Staring up into his frigid green eyes, she enunciated every word. “There is not one footman named ‘Charles.’ It’s the name you give them, like referring to all dogs as ‘dog.’”

“You would not understand. That is the way things are done. It would be impossible for me to learn every footman’s name.”

“Impossible, or tiresome?”

The duke took her arms in a firm hold and Cara had the impression he wanted to shake her. “My conduct is not your concern.”

Amazon

#BookBlitz The Descent from Truth by Gaylon Greer

About Gaylon:

Working with traveling carnivals and itinerant farm labor gangs during his teen and early adult years took Gaylon Greer up, down, and across the U.S. and introduced him to a plethora of colorful individuals who serve as models for his fictional characters. After several years as an Air Force officer and then a university professor with a Ph.D. in economics, Greer developed an interest in writing fiction and attended workshops at the University of Iowa, the University of Nebraska, and Bryn-Mawr College. He also studied with the U.C. Davis Extension program and the Algonquian Writers Group. His most recent novel, THE DESCENT FROM TRUTH is available at www.Amazon.com and other e-book retailers. Please visit Greer at www.GaylonGreer.com

A randomly chosen commenter will receive an autographed hardcover version of the author's previous book, The Price of Sanctuary.

BLURB:  

Alex Bryson is patrolling Rocky Mountain backcountry in his job as a security guard when he discovers a woman with a baby wandering alone in the snow far from the nearest road. He takes them to shelter in a weekender cabin and sees a newscast that suggests the woman, Pia Ulmer, kidnapped the baby from its rightful parents and that it is the sole heir of Peru’s wealthiest and most corrupt family. Pia claims that she is the baby’s mother, and Alex doesn't know what to believe. After turning her in, he continues to struggle with his budding feelings for her and remains unsure of the true story. He becomes more and more involved until finally there is no turning back—lives are on the line. He helps Pia get free from a brutal world that values money over life, and together they devise a plan to reclaim the baby. Just when it looks like they might succeed, they discover an international conspiracy that changes the game entirely.

EXCERPT:  

“Please,” she said, her voice as rough as sandpaper and barely above a whisper. “Please, do not give my baby to those people.”

“Are we back to that? First you're his mother, then you're his nanny. Now you're his mother again?”

“They took him from me. Look at him, Alex. Both Mr. Koenig and his wife are blondes.”

“Koenig’s an old man. His hair's white.”

“Study Frederick's face. Do you not see me in his eyes? His chin and his mouth?”

The similarities were uncanny, he'd grant her that. Good enough to get away with claiming to be the kid's mother if Alex hadn't learned the truth. The way she had attacked him, trying to kill him with that skillet, she clearly didn’t want to go back to civilization and prove who she was. He turned away, tossed Frederick in a maneuver that brought a cry of delight, and stuffed the boy's blanket-clad feet through the leg holes in the backpack. With his parka snapped around both of them and the diaper bag tied to his waist, he gripped his rifle in one hand, his snowshoes in the other, and headed for the porch. At the door, he turned for a final glance at Pia.

She had set her mouth in a stubborn line. The eye that had been plastered shut was closed. She stared at him with the other. When she saw him looking at her, she spoke again. “Watch over him, Alex. Someone wants to harm him. Don’t let them.”

A new tack, another lie. He stepped onto the porch and strapped on his snowshoes. That should have been the last he saw of her, but the specter of her ravaged face and defiant expression stayed with him as he trudged across the sunlit expanse of glistening snow that sloped gradually toward the Warrior River Gorge.