Ambrosia Tisdale is the very picture of propriety and the epitome of what a respectable young lady should be. Haunted by a memory and compelled by her family, she pursues perfection to a fault.
The Earl of Bristol, Duncan Maddox, has returned to
after years of familial imposed
exile. As the second son, he has led a life filled with frivolity, leisure, and
a healthy dose of debauchery. Now his older brother has died, leaving the
family’s flailing legacy in London ’s unwilling arms. Duncan
At the behest of his uncle,
is advised to do the one thing
that could provide instant fortune and respectability – he must marry. But
there is only one prospect who meets the unique requirements to solve all the
Earl’s problems – the lovely Miss Ambrosia Tisdale. But securing the prudent
daughter of a Viscount’s hand proves to be more challenging than this scandal
ridden second son of an Earl has bargained for. Duncan
With scandal, extortion, treachery, and even love itself threatening to keep him from his goal, will
succeed in compromising Miss
She had stumbled upon the library. A fire in the hearth threw a faint glow over leather lined volumes that filled floor to ceiling book shelves. Lavishly upholstered plush arm chairs sat upon Aubusson rugs scattered throughout the room. A settee was positioned across from a giant stone faced fireplace where a shirtless man sat warming his hands.
Certainly, her eyes were playing tricks on her.
Then the shirtless man turned his head, his eyes meeting hers.
It wasn’t a hallucination-he was real. She hadn’t been expecting to find a partially dressed man, and he obviously wasn’t expecting to be found. It was but a moment before the man’s expression began to soften and a wicked smile slowly crept across his lips.
A smile that stole the breath right from out of her.
Every gently bred fiber in her body screamed to turn around and run straight out the door. Hundreds of years of proper English rearing had produced a base instinct to flee when in the presence of an unknown male (especially one with so little clothing). But then he stood up, cautiously, the way one does as if not to startle a deer. Standing, he was clad in nothing but buckskin breeches, the dim light from the flames playing over the sculpted muscles and sinew of his shoulders and chest.
Breeding be damned, her feet simply refused to budge.
About the Author
Jessica Jefferson makes her home in northern
, or as she likes
to think of it – almost Indiana . Jessica originally attended college in hopes
of achieving an English degree and writing the next great American novel. Ten years later she was working as a
registered nurse and reading historical romance when she decided to give
writing another go-round. Chicago
Jessica writes likes she speaks, which has a tendency to be fast paced and humorous. Jessica is heavily inspired by sweeping, historical romance novels, but aims to take those key emotional elements and inject a fresh blend of quick dialogue and comedy to transport the reader into a story they miss long after the last page is read. She invites you to visit her at jessicajefferson.com and read her random romance musings.
Follow me at https//twitter.com/authorJessicaJ
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