Tarnished
Honor By Sabrina York Available for Pre-Order now!!!!!
One
of six amazing novels in a landmark collection honoring the heroes of Waterloo
and the ladies they love!
The
Incomparables
This limited edition box set
includes 6 scorching romances that commemorate the 200th anniversary of theJune
18, 1815 Battle of Waterloo.
From the Duchess of Richmond’s
ball in Brussels to the Battle of Waterloo and beyond, join these six
unforgettable heroes as they journey back from the physical and emotional
trials of war and discover the passion that thrills the body can also heal the
heart.
Coming
June 18th from bestselling and award winning historical romance authorsCerise DeLand,Sabrina York, Suzi
Love, Lynne
Connolly, Suzanna Mederiosand
Dominique Eastwick,
The
Stories in the Set:
Emma wants only an interlude with
the man she’s adored for years. But Drayton Worth has spent five years riddled
with guilt for hurting her—and he’s determined to have more than a few nights
in her bed.
Daniel Sinclair is a
broken man with war wounds that are physical and spiritual. He’s weighed down
by grief and guilt and tormented by his tarnished honor. When he meets Fia
Lennox, a beautiful and brave Highland lass in dire need of his protection, he
sees in her his chance for redemption…or utter damnation. Because despite his
valiant attempts to resist her, he cannot.
Love After Waterloo by Suzi
Love
When Lady Melton and her son join Captain Belling and the last woundedsoldiers evacuating from Waterloo to London, she expects clashes with armydeserters but doesn’t anticipate how falling in love with the antagonisticcaptain will change her life.
When Lady Melton and her son join Captain Belling and the last woundedsoldiers evacuating from Waterloo to London, she expects clashes with armydeserters but doesn’t anticipate how falling in love with the antagonisticcaptain will change her life.
Paul
“Lucky” Sherstone daren’t even let his wife too close because of his headaches
and the living nightmares he can’t dispel. Hetty hardly knows the man who comes
back from war, but one thing she does know—she still wants him.
A man who is determined to
fulfill his duty at the expense of his own happiness, a woman who wants only
one taste of true passion, and a case of mistaken identity. Can Captain Edward
Hathaway and Grace Kent overcome the guilt that continues to haunt them both
and find true love?
Captain Roarke Wooldridge is
about to find out that sometimes love does heal all wounds.But when his need
for revenge collides with desires he never believed he would feel again, will
he be able to put aside the scars of Waterloo to embrace his future?
Daniel Sinclair is a
broken man with wounds that are physical and spiritual. He’s weighed down by
grief and guilt that he could not save his friend, Graeme Lennox, and is
convinced that a French lance left him less than a man. He has no prospects.
Nothing left but his tarnished honor. But then he meets a vexing boy who makes
him question even that.
Fia Lennox’s world turned on its
end with her brother’s death. She’s gone in one fell swoop from lady to
servant…to a woman on the run. The world is a dangerous place for a woman
alone—even when she is masquerading as a boy—so when she meets up with a
strong, valiant ex-cavalryman, she decides to become his traveling companion.
Whether he likes it or not.
Battling villains,
would-be-friends and their own finely-forged battlements, Fia
and Daniel rush toward their destiny, a scorching passion and,
hopefully, redemption. Can love conquer all? Even the ghosts of the past?
Read
an excerpt of Tarnished Honor:
Glorious.
There was no other word for it. Simply glorious.
Daniel tipped his face up to the sky and grinned. The sun was
shining and the breeze was mild. The sky was blue and tufted with fat white
clouds. It was a lovely day to travel—it could have been raining, could have
been cold. But since he’d set out from London, on this lengthyjourney to
Inverness, each day had been prettier than the last.
His mood had improved too. He was swamped with the conviction that
he’d done the right thing, leaving his haven. As much as he appreciated his
position at the club, he’d allowed himself to sink into it, into the rut of it.
He’d allowed himself to wallow in his woes.
There was no wallowing on the road; there simply wasn’t time for
it.
It was energizing to be traveling again, invigorating to be out in
the world, breathing fresh air and going
somewhere. He enjoyed the solitude, the quiet, the absence of need to make
conversation.
That left him alone with his thoughts, his regrets, his guilt, but
such specters had haunted him for so long, they were like old companions. He
wouldn’t know who he was without them.
Aye. This was far more healing than any medicine—the power of his
mount between his thighs, the kiss of warmth on his face, the movement.
Surprisingly, his leg hardly pained him at all, except when he moved suddenly.
In fact, it even felt better after several days of riding. He hadn’t fallen off
his horse once.
Hunnam was in good form as well. No doubt he’d enjoyed the fresh
air and the chance to prance once again. An hour’s exercise a day was one
thing, but for a Scots Grey, the chance to run and run wild spoke to his soul.
It spoke to Daniel’s too, so he put his heels to his mount’s sides
and gave him his head.
And it was glorious.
He hadn’t realized how closed up he’d allowed himself to become.
How isolated. He hadn’t realized how much he’d allowed his injury—and his guilt—to
shrink his horizons.
Well, his horizons weren’t limited now. They spread before him in
a verdant green wash that stretched as far as the eye could see. He passed a
loch and paused to admire the sparkling waters, to watch an osprey swoop down
to snatch a hapless fish.
And damn, but it was a fine thing to be back in Scotland. Daniel
hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed hearing the lilt of his own brogue,
or tasting a well-made haggis. The Brits didn’t care for haggis, a fact he’d
never quite understood. When created by someone who knew what they were doing,
it was delicious. And Scottish innkeepers, apparently, knew what they were
doing. Or their wives did.
There was no doubt about it, he’d probably gained a stone since
crossing the border to his homeland. He’d never felt so vibrant and alive. And
while he had enjoyed the occasional chat with a fellow countryman, he had never
enjoyed his own company more. There was something about being alone with one’s
thoughts that was very peaceful. It allowed a man to explore his soul at
leisure without interruptions. It allowed a man to process all that had
happened in his life. To put everything in the place it belonged. Though he
still had several days of travel, at most a week, he was already lamenting the
journey’s end.
After he passed the Kinclaven Crossroads, the landscape changed
from fields and farms to orchards. The looming trees shaded the road in a lacy
pattern; the scent of crisp apples filled the air, tempting Daniel to reach up
and pluck one for a taste.
He did not. That would be stealing and he was a man of honor.
He pulled back on Hunnam’s reins when he spotted a white mare
standing in the road. She was difficult to miss. Her lines were exquisite, her
saddle and tack were the finest…but she had no rider. His brow wrinkled as he
rode closer. No one would ever abandon such a fine horse. It was—
“Blast.”
The imprecation came from the leafy tree next to which the mare
stood.
Daniel glanced up; the boughs riffled. An apple fell to the
ground.
The mare whinnied and walked over to it, lipping up the treat.
Another apple fell and the horse made short work of that one was
well.
“Stop eating them all,” the tree said. “Save some for me.”
Daniel cleared his throat. It seemed prudent to make himself
known. “Hullo?”
The leaves rustled and a face peered out. Enormous blue-green eyes
stared at him. Something flickered through them. Something that could have been
construed as…guilt.
Daniel frowned. “What are you doing up there?” he asked.
The eyes blinked. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” He drummed his fingers on his saddle. “Are you stealing
apples?”
The chagrined expression on that elfin face was nearly whimsical.
“Is this your orchard?”
“Indeed it is not.”
An entrancing, mischievous smile blossomed and the thief tossed
him a fat red apple. “Then catch.”
He did not. He did not catch. The apple bounced off his pate.
“Oh really,” an amused voice echoed from above. “Let’s try again.”
“Let’s not.”
Too late. Another apple flew in his direction. He missed it again.
It fell to the ground and Hunnam gobbled it up.
“Sir, you are supposed to catch
them.”
“I doona care to abet you in your thievery—” Another missile flew.
By the grace of God, he caught this one. “Please stop throwing stolen apples at
me.” It was large and red and shiny and looked delicious. Aside from that, it
smelled quite tantalizing. As he felt he had earned it, he polished it on his
lapel and took a bite. Flavor exploded in his mouth and juice dribbled down his
chin. They were excellent apples.
The face disappeared, followed by more rustling. A satchel fell to
the loam with a soft thud. Then a pair of feet appeared. Legs. Slim hips.
Slender shoulders and then a mop of tousled black curls.
A boy dropped to the ground with an oof. He looked up at Daniel,
his head tipped saucily to the side, and then he grinned. It was a rakish grin.
“Not stealing,” he said. “Borrowing.”
This he said with such conviction, Daniel had to struggle not to
laugh. This was no laughing matter. Thieves ended up in the gaol. “Ah.
Borrowing. Surely you won’t mind explaining that to him.” Daniel nodded to the
distance, where a farmer was running through the trees toward them, arms
flailing.
The boy’s eyes widened. He picked up the satchel and hefted it
over his shoulder. Then he bounded into the saddle and shot a glance back at
Daniel. His grin was wicked as he urged his mount forward…leaving Daniel behind
to explain to the farmer why his apples were missing.
And why apple juice dribbled from his chin.
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About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and
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readers. With over 25 titles her
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