Thursday, December 18, 2014

Enforce by Rachel Van Dyken - Excerpt







There’s two sides to every story...
And ours? Isn't pretty...
Then again, what's pretty about the mafia?
Trace Rooks, that’s what.
But she only wants one of us, and I'll kill him before I let him have her.
The only problem?
We're cousins.
And she may just be our long lost enemy.
Whoever said college was hard, clearly didn't attend Eagle Elite University.
Welcome to hell also known as the Mafia where blood is thicker than life, and to keep yours? Well, keep your friends close, and your enemies?

Even closer...











Amazon  iTunes     Barnes & Noble    KOBO     Smashwords







      

Enforce/Nixon by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.





Enforce/Chase by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.



Enforce:Phoenix by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.




Enforce:Tex by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.








Elite:


Elect:

Entice:
 B&N

Elicit: 


BANG BANG:

 B&N





Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at 
www.rachelvandykenauthor.com




a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Enforce by Rachel Van Dyken ~ Blog Tour







There’s two sides to every story...
And ours? Isn't pretty...
Then again, what's pretty about the mafia?
Trace Rooks, that’s what.
But she only wants one of us, and I'll kill him before I let him have her.
The only problem?
We're cousins.
And she may just be our long lost enemy.
Whoever said college was hard, clearly didn't attend Eagle Elite University.
Welcome to hell also known as the Mafia where blood is thicker than life, and to keep yours? Well, keep your friends close, and your enemies?

Even closer...











 iTunes     Barnes & Noble    KOBO     Smashwords



Enforce/Nixon by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.






Enforce/Chase by Rachel Van Dyken from Becca the Bibliophile on Vimeo.






CHAPTER 1:
Enforce
(Elite from  Nixon/Chase’s POV)
Nixons POV
Chapter One
Nixon
            I watched as the parade of cars made their way through the black iron gates, as if somehow those gates would protect them if the country went to war. Funny, they had no clue that the war—Lucifer himself, was already parading around inside, safe from the police- the feds- anyone who would be a threat.
            Safe from everyone but me.
            My eyes flickered to Phoenix on my right, he grinned as a new girl walked up to him and gave him a flirty wave.
            I elbowed him hard in the ribs.
            His grin turned sour as he glared at the girl and flipped her off.
            Remember your place.
            I’d said it once, twice, a million times to the guys, and they were still struggling with the idea that they weren’t here to go to school, they weren’t here to make friends. We weren’t at peace. We were in a freaking war zone.
            And Phoenix’s family was our only key to redemption.
            “That seems to be the last of them.” Chase’s cool gaze surveyed the main road that led into campus. It was easier on security to have one road in and one road out. Too bad life wasn’t that convenient.
            If someone didn’t belong—it would take us minutes, scratch that, seconds to eliminate them, their family, all while making it look like a very unfortunate accident.
            “Wait,” Tex squinted towards the iron gates, “I think there’s one more car.”
            “The hell there is.” I muttered, “I counted the cars, I’ve looked at the lists, we aren’t missing anyone.”
            Chase yanked the list out of my hand and started reading through the names of all the freshman enrollees. His grin made me about lose my shit as he lifted his head and handed back the paper.
            “I hear Wyoming’s beautiful this time of year.”
            “What?” I jerked the list away and started greedily reading through the names.
            One stood out.
            Trace Rooks, Female, 18, Casper, Wyoming.
            “Great.” I dropped the list onto the ground and smirked, “A girl who probably smells like cow shit. What’s her background?”
            Nobody answered.
            I said it louder, this time grinding my teeth together.
            Tex was the first to answer, “We couldn’t really find any.”
            “Couldn’t. Really. Find. Any.” I repeated. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
            “Look,” Tex shook his head, “We have Sergio on it, but the girl doesn’t really have a lot of information about her. Parents dead, Grandma dead, Grandpa her only living relative and somehow her social as well as her birth certificate were both lost.”
            “Lost.” I licked my lips. I told my head not to go there, told my heart to stay in my damn chest and stop hoping as images flooded my mind. Dark hair, dark eyes, “Nixon, I’ll save you.”
            “Dude, you okay?” Chase elbowed me.
            “Let’s go welcome her to Eagle Elite.”
            Nobody moved.
            “I said,” I started marching towards the girls dorms, “Let’s go welcome her.”
            “Why do I have a feeling this is a really bad idea?” Tex said under his breath.
            “For once, Tex, keep your mouth shut and stay in the background, paste a shit eating grin on your face and let me and Chase deal with this. Do you think you can do that? Hmm?”
            “Take a Xanax.” Phoenix grumbled.
            I sent a seething glare in his direction.
            He mumbled a curse and walked off with Tex to wait by the tree while we continued the next few feet to the girls dorms.
            The car was a rental.
            The grandpa was ancient.
            The girl was…young.
            And she had shit as belongings. Her suitcase was covered with stickers, her grandpa handed her a small box, and I could have sworn I saw a tear escape her eye and roll down her smooth cheek.
            “Hell no.” I grumbled, “She’ll be destroyed here.”
            “Won’t last five minutes.” Chase agreed.
            “Tears.” I wiped my face with my hands, “Tell me I’m not seeing tears.”
            “Girls don’t cry here.”
            “They don’t.” I agreed.
            “She isn’t like them.”
            “No.”
            “We need Mo.”
            I laughed at that, “We need a miracle.” With a curse, I quickly dialed the number for orientation and made arrangements for the New Girl to be moved to the United States room. Mo was supposed to be on that same floor. I figured she needed all the help she could get. No way would little Wyoming survive the year with anyone else, not that I was happy about it. I mean in hindsight that was probably my first mistake.
            I’d officially invited her into my life—by way of my sister.
            “New girls here.” I said loud enough for Tracey to turn around and gape. So squeaky clean and innocent. Like a little lamb, right, Chase?” I tilted my head and offered her a smirk.
            The old man reached in his jacket. It was a move I knew well. Another clue. He wasn’t what he said he was. He wasn’t who he said he was. As if noticing my calculating glare, he removed his hand and offered a forced smile, “A welcoming committee? This place sure is nice.”
            I had to respect his control. The way he protectively stood in front of Tracey as if he was the only thing standing in the way of my devouring her.
            “Is there a problem?” He scratched his head, causing his shirt sleeve to fall, revealing a small tattoo. One I’d seen as a child but couldn’t place.
            “Do I know you?” I blurted.
            He laughed, “Know any farmers out in Wyoming?”
            It was his tone that convinced me, the way his shook his head slightly, waiting for my challenge. It was the same look my Uncle gave me when he wanted me to stop pushing.
            It was the look that my dad taught me when I was ten and witnessed my first torture.
            The girl was still staring at us. Easy target. I’d leave the old man alone, he reminded me too much of mine. And I didn’t need that reminder, not now.
            I lifted my arms and stretched lazily.
            The girls eyes went wide as she stared at my body.
            Chase hit me in the stomach.
            I sauntered forward and tilted her chin towards me, closing her mouth in the process. “Much better,” I licked my lips and fought the urge to kiss her. Yeah, I was losing my shit. “We’d hate for our charity case to choke on an insect on her first day.” Her lips trembled as she looked from me to her Grandpa. I released her before she could do anything, and walked past, with Chase in tow.
            I needed to talk to the girl at registration anyways. We disappeared behind the building, but I’d be back. I just needed the Grandpa to leave.
            Within seconds the rental car was driving away. And the girl as all mine. My heart thudded against my chest, and for a second, I regretted what I was about to do.
            But every possible outcome ended with either her death, or her in danger. And for some reason, I didn’t want someone like her at Eagle Elite. She didn’t belong in my world.
            She deserved a picket fence.
             A husband.
            A good college experience without classmates who’d rather see her commit suicide then survive the next four years.
            They would destroy her.
            And she would make it so damn easy to do so.
            The only way—was to beat them to it. To be the first, marking her as our target, our play-thing.
            Nobody messed with what was mine.
            And in the end, nobody would mess with her. They’d allow me to entertain them with her innocence. I’d dangle her in front of them like a carrot, and at the end of the day, she’d be untouchable.
            I sighed as she looked up at the building gaping like someone who’d been homeschooled and never seen a sky scraper before.
            She was too skinny.
            I made a mental note to get her one of my access cards—she didn’t need to know how much they cost—or that every single student at EE would kill to have one. Mo would take care of the rest.
            She’d eat with us.
            She’d want for nothing.
            It was the least I could do after what I was about to make her endure.
            Licking my lips I approached her again, this time, damning myself to hell with each step I took. “Are you lost?”
            “Nope.” She grinned, damn it made her prettier. “Apparently I live in the United States.” With a shrug she tried and failed to lift her heavy suitcase and nearly toppled over onto her cute ass.
            I muffled a laugh, knowing that Chase was doing the exact same thing. Being mean to her would be like kicking a puppy. But the world was ugly. I just hated that I would be her tutor in the ways of reality—her prince of darkness.
            Damn, I would have done anything to be the hero.
            “I’m Nixon.” I stood directly in front of her, shifting my eyes from her poorly fitting clothes to her ugly shoes.
            “Tracey, but everyone calls me Trace.” She held out her hand.
            I itched to touch it.
            To touch her skin.
            Instead, I scowled, shook her hand, then wiped that same hand on my jeans as if she was diseased.
            “Rules.”
            “What?” She took a step back.
            Chase moved past me, “He’s right. As cute as you are, Farm Girl, someone needs to tell you the rules.”
            Her gaze narrowed, “Can it be fast?”
            Yeah, again, I almost lost my mind. Chase was probably ready to shit his pants. The last person that talked back to him was Phoenix and that ended with a few broken bones and a trip to the dentist.
            “You hear that Chase?” I said amused, “She likes it fast.”
            “Pity,” Chase took a step closer, nearly touching her with his body, “I’d like to give it to her slow.” His eyes raked her in, as if she was the first girl he’d ever seen in his entire existence. Jealousy surged through me. What he hell? She wasn’t’ his. Not that she was mine, but still. He was standing too close, too close.
            “The rules.” He stepped back. My heart beat returned to normal, “No speaking to the Elect, unless you’ve been asked to speak to them.” He circled around her staring a little long at her ass before he continued.
            “Who are the--“
            “—Nope. You’ve already broken a rule. I’m speaking New Girl.” Chase smirked. “Geez, Nixon, this one’s going to be hard to break in.”
            “They always are.” I said without taking my eyes from her, “But I think I’ll enjoy this one.” The first true thing I’d said. I would enjoy it too much. I’d enjoy her too much, because she reminded me of someone I used to know. Someone who offered to save me, when I was already past saving, someone who wiped my tears, and cried as if they were her own.
            Chase continued with the rules. Making me sicker as her face continued to fall.
            Finally she asked, “Is that all?”
            “No.” Raw desire pulsed through me as I approached her, needing to touch her, needing to make sure she was real even though I knew I was acting like a complete and utter lunatic. Chase and I would have words later. He knew me better than I knew myself sometimes. I was going too far, pushing myself, pushing him.
            My hand caressed her face, then moved down her smooth neck to her shoulder. I wanted to claim her, to possess her, to make her scream—but not with fear, with utter ecstasy. I had no idea who she was, but she made me want. And that was the problem.
            For the first time in years. I wanted.
            I wasn’t allowed to want.
            I had to die to myself.
            Because in the grand scheme of things? It wasn’t about me. It was about blood, family, protection. Blood in, blood out.
            Her eyes dilated. Furious that she’d reacted so easily, upset with myself for making my own body suffer, I snapped.
            “You feel this? Memorize it now, because as of this moment, you can’t touch us. We are untouchable. If you as much as sneeze in our direction, if you as much breathe the same air in my atmosphere. I will make your life hell. This touch, what you feel against your skin, will be the only time you feel another human being as powerful as me near you. So like I said, feel it, remember it, and maybe one day, your brain will do you the supreme favor of forgetting what it felt like to have someone like me touching you. Then, and only then, will you be able to be happy with some mediocre boyfriend and pathetic life.” Away from me. Away from it all. Safe.
            A few more tears escaped down her cheek.
            And I knew in that moment. It was the beginning of the end.
            My end.
            My downfall.
            My demise.












Elite:



Elect:

Entice:
 B&N

Elicit: 


BANG BANG:

 B&N





Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at 
www.rachelvandykenauthor.com






a Rafflecopter giveaway




Friday, December 12, 2014

Under a Georgia Moon

under a georgia
Under a Georgia Moon by Cindy Roland Anderson 

 Addie Heywood thought she was doing okay after her fiancĂ© dumped her just weeks before their wedding, claiming he’d found someone else more compatible with his health food tastes. But when he marries the other woman three months later, Addie needs to get away. Leaving her home in Idaho, she escapes to Mitchel Creek, Georgia to visit her Aunt Janie. She just wants to spend the next two weeks enjoying her aunt’s southern cooking, not dodging the guys her aunt is determined to set her up with. Chase Nichols isn’t looking for love. His dream is to trade his computer mouse for his guitar and make it big in the country music world. If he can land a job in Nashville, he might have a shot at getting discovered. His plans get derailed when he does his neighbor a favor and picks up her niece, Addie, at the airport. Things get even more complicated when his ex-girlfriend comes back into the picture. That’s when he hatches a new plan. Since Addie wants to avoid her aunt’s matchmaking schemes, and he wants to avoid his ex-girlfriend, they’ll fool the world by pretending to date. What neither of them counts on is actually falling in love.

Purchase Your Copy
add to goodreads new
Praise for Under a Georgia Moon “This is just the kind of sweet romance that I love. I thought the plot was fun and the writing well done, was paced well and kept me wanting more. Throw in some swoony moments and I was hooked.” –Kathy (Bookworm Nation) “Often times when I read multiple books by the same author I am worried that the later books won't live up to the first one. That is NOT the case with Under a Georgia Moon. I was hooked on Cindy Anderson's writing with Fair Catch and then again with Discovering Sophie and now with this book.” –Sara Ebert I love all of Cindy's books, but so far this one is my favorite! I just didn't want it to end. Definitely a book that I will read over again. –Dana Weaver
  Under a Georgia Moon

~Excerpt~
“You?” Addie said in disbelief. “You’re the friend my aunt sent?”
A slow, mischievous grin tipped his mouth. “Yes, ma’am.”
She stared at him, wondering if he was telling her the truth. “But…she said an old friend of hers was coming to get me.”
“I am an old friend of hers.”
Addie made a quick perusal of her surroundings, searching for an older gentlemen holding helium balloons. For all she knew Pretty Boy here could’ve stolen the sign since she’d mentioned it earlier. “If you are who you say you are then where are the balloons?”
“I left them in my truck.”
A likely story.
He started to laugh. “Look, I didn’t knock anyone off, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”
It had been what she was thinking. “Then where did you get that sign?”
“From your Aunt Janie.”
“How did you know her name was Janie?”
That little smirk was back on his handsome face. “Because she’s known me since I was a kid.”
“Oh, really.” Addie leaned in close. “Then what’s her last name?”
“Caldwell.”
Drat. How did he know that? Unless, of course, he was telling the truth. “I’m going to need to call my aunt just to be sure. Could you give me your name?”
“Are you sayin’ you really don’t remember meeting me?”
“Well, yeah. You just helped me get my bag but I don’t remember us exchanging names.”
He grinned. “I meant before today. Chase Nichols? That doesn’t ring a bell?”
Addie’s mouth dropped open. “You’re Chase Nichols?” Her eyes skimmed over every inch of him. He was a lot taller and so much hotter. “You used to be short.”
Again, the smirk. “I had a late growth spurt.”

  Cindy Roland 
  Author Cindy Roland Anderson 
 Hi, I'm Cindy Roland Anderson. I write clean, contemporary romance with a combination of humor, romantic tension and some pretty great kissing scenes. I'm lucky to be married to my best friend. I love being a mother and have five amazing children. Our family has expanded by adding a son-in-law, a daughter-in-law, and four adorable grandchildren. I'm a registered nurse and work in the newborn intensive care unit. I love to read, almost as much as I love writing. And I love chocolate, probably a little too much.
    25_Amazon_Paypal 
  Blog Tour Giveaway $25 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash Ends 12/22/14 Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.   a Rafflecopter giveaway  

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Courtship for Cecilia by Ruth Hartman

Book 3 in the Love Birds Series
Is the chance for love worth the risk of a broken heart?

Cecilia Fletcher yearns for true love with the man of her heart. A life of her own away from her demanding mother would be an added benefit. But in order to do that, Cecilia must live a lie, making it necessary to use a false name in order to hide a family secret.

Barrington Radcliff was betrayed by a woman who he thought loved him. Because of that, trust is hard to willingly give. When he meets pretty Cecilia Fleming, his heart wants to give her a chance. Something about her doesn’t ring true, but Barrington allows love to overrule his good judgment.

Can Cecilia and Barrington get past their hurt and secrets long enough to find true love?




~Excerpt~
And there she was. The lavender dress was even more stunning up close. It fit her curves snugly, off the shoulders and dipping low over her breasts. Her cheeks had a rosy glow about them. Whether it was from the warmth of the room or excitement of the evening, he knew not, but found it quite appealing.
Her eyes… Somehow next to that particular shade of her dress, they had taken on the exact same color. Incredible. He could scarcely blink, afraid somehow the lovely vision she produced might be lost, not to be rediscovered.
Lord Lofton cleared his throat, startling Barrington from his reverie. “Mr. Radcliff, I’m sure you remember my cousin, Miss Fleming?”
“Indeed.” Barrington bowed to her. Had he appeared the buffoon, staring at her as if he were a love-struck boy of ten? “Lovely to see you again, Miss Fleming.”
She lowered her gaze, her long lashes sweeping against those rosy cheeks. “And you as well, Mr. Radcliff.”
Music from a different song began. Suddenly Barrington longed for nothing more than to hold Miss Fleming in his arms and never let her go. To sway to the music, twirl her dainty frame around and press his fingers to her waist once more. Would her hair smell like roses if he leaned close? Or would her scent of choice be lavender, as a nod to her color of dress? Would she place her hand on his shoulder, the other snuggly fitted in his?
Lord Lofton cleared his throat a second time.
He’d done it again. Get a hold of yourself, man! The only way to stop imagining what delights were in store for him with Miss Fleming was to actually ask her to dance. He held out his hand. “Miss Fleming, might I have the pleasure of a turn about the floor?”
She blinked. The corners of her lips rose, the left side a tiny bit higher than the right. Adorable. “Yes. I would like that. Very much.”
The full skirt of her gown swished against his trouser leg as she stood. A ripple of desire went through him. From her gown? He swallowed hard. Something about this woman grabbed hold of him down deep inside. It was as if he’d never truly lived until he met her. But how could that be?
In all his years spending time with Martha, the outings, the parties and events, he’d never, not once, experienced anything remotely like he felt right now. A hundred bees stinging his heart couldn’t give it more of a jolt. A thousand chirping birds signaling the coming of spring couldn’t equal the joy in his soul. A million sonnets sung of the purest love in existence surely couldn’t fill his mind with more wonder than standing there holding Miss Fleming’s hand.
Miss Fleming tilted her head and blinked. Someone tapped his shoulder. Barrington inwardly groaned, grief stricken that the magical spell had been broken. He peered behind him.
Lord and Lady Lofton stood quite close, both biting their lips as if trying not to smile. “We’re going out to the ballroom floor to dance and thought perhaps…” Lord Lofton pointed behind them.
Ah… Miss Fleming’s chaperones didn’t want to leave their charge unattended. With a sigh, whether of remorse for the end of the perfect moment or in splendid anticipation of the dance, he knew not. As long as he was in Miss Fleming’s company, he would be content.
Barrington offered his arm to his dance partner and they followed Lord and Lady Lofton. They didn’t, however, take a space very near them. Instead, Barrington lagged behind so he could have some privacy with Miss Fleming. If there is privacy to be had amongst several hundred people. At least her cousins’ ears wouldn’t be able to listen in on their conversation.
Miss Fleming placed one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand. They began to dance but she appeared to be inordinately interested in her slippers. Were they new? Perhaps she was concerned they would get scuffed amidst all the moving feet close by.
“Your slippers are lovely, Miss Fleming.”
She inhaled sharply and raised her gaze to his. “Oh. Thank you.”
“I thought perhaps you were concerned for their well-being.”
She shook her head, but the hint of a smile played at her lips.
“Are you enjoying your stay with your cousins?”
“Yes.”
“Have you done anything of particular enjoyment while there?”
She lifted one shoulder. “No.”
Would he be required to have the whole conversation on his own? Maybe she was nervous. Sometimes crowds did that to people. He’d never particularly liked them. Perhaps if he could find something about which she was interested, she would be more willing to speak. Barrington twirled her around and sighed when she was rested once again in his arms. “Do you enjoy dancing?”
She nodded.
“How about… card games? Have a particular favorite?”
Wisps of hair danced around her face as she shook her head.
This wasn’t going at all as planned. There must be something. He had a feeling that conversing about a topic as benign as the weather wouldn’t coax any more from her than a shrug. “Are you fond of animals? Have any pets?”
Her eyes sparkled and her entire face lit from within. “Oh, I adore cats.”
“Do you? Splendid.” Finally, something had caught her interest.
“My cat’s name is Henry.”
“Named after a king?”
She laughed. “No, although I’m sure he thinks of himself as royalty.”
“Does he perhaps sport a tiny crown?”
She smiled.
“Carry a tiny scepter around in his paws?”
 Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m afraid not, although if I could procure something of that nature, it would be fun to try.”
“The cats I’ve known over the years never struck me as being malleable and complacent enough to allow something to be placed on their heads, much less in their paws.”
“You’re probably right. I suppose I’ll have to settle for using my imagination when it comes to dressing Henry in anything other than what he already wears.”
Barrington lowered his brow. “Your cat wears clothing?”
She sputtered a laugh and then covered her mouth with her hand. “No. But he does wear fur, you know.”
“Good point. I’m sure he’d get quite cold in winter otherwise.”
“Indeed.”
She stumbled and he pulled her close. But only for a moment. Any more than that and the whole room full of attendees would murmur and stare. Barrington stepped back to an acceptable distance.
“Pardon me.” She glanced up, her gaze resting on his. Those eyes… so incredible in color and surrounded by long lashes.
“For what, may I ask?”
She looked down again to her slippers. “I’m afraid I’m rather clumsy.”
“Nonsense. You dance beautifully.” She did seem a trifle unused to the steps, but of course, he would never make comment. Surely she’d been brought up learning to dance, as all of his peers had.
“Now you’re just being kind.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “If I’m being kind, it’s only a natural inclination to your sweet disposition.”
An attractive tinge of pink appeared on her cheeks. “Thank you, Mr. Radcliff.”
Barrington stared at her lips as she spoke. He couldn’t help it. Their fullness rose and fell with each syllable, alternately exposing and covering her tongue as if playing a game of hide and seek.
Miss Fleming tilted her head and blinked as if waiting for something.
Waiting… What was she—? Oh. “You are quite welcome.”
She shifted her gaze to the left and then right. Had he said something inappropriate so she was choosing not to engage him further? Barrington tried to recall their short conversation. Nothing stood out as being off-putting or rude. What could it be?
Someone tapped his shoulder. Who would have the gall to interrupt a dance when—? He whipped his head around to see… Lord Lofton?
With a chuckle, the earl indicated the area from which Barrington had collected Miss Fleming. “Since the dance number is over, we thought perhaps you might join us in refreshment.”
Over? What in the—? Barrington glanced about the room. He and his Miss Fleming were the only ones still dancing. A glance down showed him that his feet were indeed still moving. Stop that at once! He paused and swallowed hard. Only then did he notice the absence of music and people grinning at him as they passed by.
Good heavens. I’m losing my faculties.
Miss Fleming bit her lip and her face reddened. The color spread to her neck and all the way down to her—
He snapped his chin up. You can’t stare at a woman there. Especially not in public! “P-pardon me, Miss Fleming. W-would you care for some refreshment?” Good gracious! He sounded like a bumbling buffoon.
She gently extracted her hand from his and placed it on his arm. “That would be quite lovely. Thank you.”
 I hadn’t even let go of her hand yet. Barrington’s legs were as quivery as pudding when they made their way from the ballroom floor. What was happening to him? The tiny wisp of a girl brought him practically to his knees.
Lord and Lady Lofton preceded them. The latter peeked over her shoulder at Miss Fleming and then giggled. Barrington wasn’t brave enough to look at his partner, but was fairly certain her polite cough covered a tiny laugh as well.
Oh the horror.

~More books by Ruth Hartman~
A Courtship for Cecilia
The Unwanted Earl 
The Matchmakers 
Mind of a Stranger
Romancing the Dustman's Daughter 
Love Birds of Regent's Park 
Romance at the Royal Menagerie 
Rescued by a Duke
Time for a Duke
Cats and Cowboys
Life in Mental Chains
Better Than Catnip
Murphy in the Paw-Paw Patch
Grin and Barrett
Purrfect Voyage
Flossophy of Grace
Pillow Talk