Jenna Jaxon Romance–because passion is timeless.

BLURB:

The death of her husband has thrown Lady Maria Kersey’s future into doubt—and her heart into the arms of a man she cannot have. But Christmas with the Widows’ Club will bring choices—and surprises–that may change all her holidays to come . . .

Maria just gave birth to her first child, a beautiful daughter—but the event is shrouded in sorrow.  A month earlier, Maria’s husband, Lord Kersey, was killed in a duel under compromising circumstances. Worse, Maria’s failure to provide a male heir has stripped her of any hope of an inheritance. Scorned by the ton, one of her few allies is her late husband’s steward, Hugh Granger. Hugh is everything her husband was not—warm, charming—and penniless. . . .

Hugh has fallen desperately in love with Maria, but has little to offer but comfort. As their attraction becomes impossible to resist, Maria flees to London to spend Christmas with her dearest friends, a group of widows who lost their own husbands in the Battle of Waterloo. Little does she know the holidays will reveal a twist of fate she never expected—proving that the greatest Christmas gift is the magic of true love . . .

I’m starting the snippets about a third of he way through the novel. Maria has been widowed a second time and is virtually penniless and living off the kindness of her dead husband’s distant relations. Maria is trying to make a good impression on the family, especially on their elder son–who will eventually inherit her late husband’s title. But when the family invites her to a greenery gathering party, things get a little out of hand… Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

He’d bent her backward over his arm, pressing her so far she could see the sky directly above them. In a flash of intuition, she lifted both her legs off the ground–he’d tipped them so far off balance that they crashed to the ground. His arms had released her as he struggled to regain his footing, so Maria managed to fling herself away from him as they hit the ground. Unfortunately, the fall knocked the wind out of her and she lay staring at the sky once more, struggling to draw breath back into her lungs. Groaning and cursing from close by told her Lord Wetherby had not suffered any grievous harm. An eternity passed as she lay hitching in little gulps of air, praying that she would recover before Lord Wetherby could rouse himself and attack her again.

With a huge effort, she rolled to her side and struggled to her feet. Lord Wetherby had landed face-first on the ground, his head apparently coming down on a rock. He bled, though not copiously, from a gash on his forehead.

“What the devil is going on here?”

And a little more for good measure…

Maria whirled around to find Mr. Granger, face darkened with rage, speeding toward them. Right behind him were Jane, Miss Granger, and James Garrett.

Jane darted forward and pulled Maria into her arms. “Are you all right, my dear?”

Although still shaken, Maria nodded. Best for them all if she said nothing about what had just occurred. At least not publicly. “I am fine. There was a . . . little accident. Lord Wetherby took the worst of it I believe.”

“Anthony.” James Garrett dashed forward to assist his brother to rise, the latter groaning and clutching his head.

“Lady Kersey, tell me what happened.” Mr. Granger had come to her side, although he still sent deadly glances at Lord Wetherby.

Sighing, Maria cut her gaze briefly to Jane. Her cousin would understand and forgive the lie she was about to tell. Hopefully convincing enough that Mr. Granger would accept her word, or want to believe her enough to do so. “One of those freakish accidents you read about in The Times, Mr. Granger. Rather stupid really.”

Lord Wetherby was on his feet now, glaring at her while pressing his handkerchief to his forehead. He’d likely agree with the tale she was about to tell, as it would not paint him as the villain he actually was.

His gaze darting suspiciously between her and Lord Wetherby, Mr. Granger nodded. “Go on.”

Keeping Jane’s admonition to keep to the truth as much as possible, Maria launched into her tale with what she hoped was believable excitement. “I was gathering holly boughs and one of the thorny leaves pricked my finger rather deeply. I took off my glove and looked at it, but it was bleeding more heavily than it should have done. Lord Wetherby came to look at it and produced his handkerchief to bind it. As we were standing there, very close together, a huge bird swooped down as if to attack us.”

“A bird?” Mr. Granger’s brows lowered. “What kind of bird?”

“A very large bird. With brown feathers is all I recall. I’m afraid I have no idea what kind of bird it was.”

BLURB:

The death of her husband has thrown Lady Maria Kersey’s future into doubt—and her heart into the arms of a man she cannot have. But Christmas with the Widows’ Club will bring choices—and surprises–that may change all her holidays to come . . .

Maria just gave birth to her first child, a beautiful daughter—but the event is shrouded in sorrow.  A month earlier, Maria’s husband, Lord Kersey, was killed in a duel under compromising circumstances. Worse, Maria’s failure to provide a male heir has stripped her of any hope of an inheritance. Scorned by the ton, one of her few allies is her late husband’s steward, Hugh Granger. Hugh is everything her husband was not—warm, charming—and penniless. . . .

Hugh has fallen desperately in love with Maria, but has little to offer but comfort. As their attraction becomes impossible to resist, Maria flees to London to spend Christmas with her dearest friends, a group of widows who lost their own husbands in the Battle of Waterloo. Little does she know the holidays will reveal a twist of fate she never expected—proving that the greatest Christmas gift is the magic of true love . . .

I’m starting the snippets about a third of he way through the novel. Maria has been widowed a second time and is virtually penniless and living off the kindness of her dead husband’s distant relations. Maria is trying to make a good impression on the family, especially on their elder son–who will eventually inherit her late husband’s title. But when the family invites her to a greenery gathering party, things get a little out of hand… Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

Face hot as fire, both from mortification at his attentions and the heat he was generating in her nether regions, Maria tried to slip her hand out of his grasp. She must protest or else he would think she welcomed his advances. And despite her traitorous body’s reactions, she did not want this man’s addresses. “My lord, this is most unseemly. Do you not remember I am still in mourning for a husband not yet a year in his grave?”

He raised his head from where his lips had grazed her palm, his eyes coal black, his breath coming in hard pants. “So if you were no longer in mourning, you would not object, cousin? Perhaps we can find a way to have your bereavement cut short.” He snaked his arm around her waist and pushed her against his hard body. “So you may pay your respects to the living instead.”

And a little more for good measure…

Panic shot through her and she struggled in earnest against him, twisting to and fro. Her right hand he had immobilized, but her other was free. She slapped him on the back, though it was like hitting a wall, impervious to the blow. “Lord Wetherby, let me go!”

Ignoring her, he loosened her wounded hand and grabbed her around the waist. “I have been trying to catch you for weeks, sweet cousin. Why ever would I let you go now?”

“Stop this, my lord.” She pushed against him, but it was like trying to move a large boulder. The man was hard as granite. “Let me go!”

“Shhh, they’ll hear you.”

BLURB:

The death of her husband has thrown Lady Maria Kersey’s future into doubt—and her heart into the arms of a man she cannot have. But Christmas with the Widows’ Club will bring choices—and surprises–that may change all her holidays to come . . .

Maria just gave birth to her first child, a beautiful daughter—but the event is shrouded in sorrow.  A month earlier, Maria’s husband, Lord Kersey, was killed in a duel under compromising circumstances. Worse, Maria’s failure to provide a male heir has stripped her of any hope of an inheritance. Scorned by the ton, one of her few allies is her late husband’s steward, Hugh Granger. Hugh is everything her husband was not—warm, charming—and penniless. . . .

Hugh has fallen desperately in love with Maria, but has little to offer but comfort. As their attraction becomes impossible to resist, Maria flees to London to spend Christmas with her dearest friends, a group of widows who lost their own husbands in the Battle of Waterloo. Little does she know the holidays will reveal a twist of fate she never expected—proving that the greatest Christmas gift is the magic of true love . . .

I’m starting the snippets about a third of he way through the novel. Maria has been widowed a second time and is virtually penniless and living off the kindness of her dead husband’s distant relations. Maria is trying to make a good impression on the family, especially on their elder son–who will eventually inherit her late husband’s title. But when the family invites her to a greenery gathering party, things get a little out of hand… Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

“What happened?” Lord Wetherby came trotting over, took one look at how she held her finger, and grabbed her hand.

“I just poked one of the holly leaves into my finger, but I’m certain it’s all right.”

“Nonsense.” He took his handkerchief from an inner pocket and gently rubbed the place where the blood had come, although most of it had been wiped away. Another gentle squeeze of her finger had produced nothing in the way of her life’s blood. Time to move on.

“Thank you, my lord, but the bleeding seems to have stopped now. It was less than a scratch so we can go on with our gathering.” Maria tried to pull her hand away from him, but he held her fast in his grip.

And a little more for good measure…

“Best let me make sure the cut’s not too deep.” He held her hand up close to his eyes. A sultry glance at her and he kissed her finger.

“My lord.” Desperately, Maria tried to pull her hand away from his lips, but to no avail. As she had noted during her first encounter with him in the corridor at Kersey Hall, the gentleman had strength much greater than hers. And she was here, all alone with him. “I tell you my hand is fine.”

“Indeed it is, Maria.” He kissed her finger once more before moving on to her open palm. “As is all of you. Exquisite as a porcelain figurine and just as cold.” The softness of his mouth caressed her flesh, sending a frisson of warmth to her core. “I suspect you are not always so icy.” His lips seared her palm again. “I’ll wager I can spread a warmth through you like nothing you have ever known before.”

BLURB:

The death of her husband has thrown Lady Maria Kersey’s future into doubt—and her heart into the arms of a man she cannot have. But Christmas with the Widows’ Club will bring choices—and surprises–that may change all her holidays to come . . .

Maria just gave birth to her first child, a beautiful daughter—but the event is shrouded in sorrow.  A month earlier, Maria’s husband, Lord Kersey, was killed in a duel under compromising circumstances. Worse, Maria’s failure to provide a male heir has stripped her of any hope of an inheritance. Scorned by the ton, one of her few allies is her late husband’s steward, Hugh Granger. Hugh is everything her husband was not—warm, charming—and penniless. . . .

Hugh has fallen desperately in love with Maria, but has little to offer but comfort. As their attraction becomes impossible to resist, Maria flees to London to spend Christmas with her dearest friends, a group of widows who lost their own husbands in the Battle of Waterloo. Little does she know the holidays will reveal a twist of fate she never expected—proving that the greatest Christmas gift is the magic of true love . . .

I’m starting the snippets about a third of he way through the novel. Maria has been widowed a second time and is virtually penniless and living off the kindness of her dead husband’s distant relations. Maria is trying to make a good impression on the family, especially on their elder son–who will eventually inherit her late husband’s title. But when the family invites her to a greenery gathering party, things get a little out of hand… Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

Abruptly, Lord Wetherby pulled her to him and they started off into the woods to the right of the brake, dodging around trees left and right, forcing her to run until her side ached.

Enough. She gave a mighty tug and her hand slipped free of his. Winded, she stood panting as Lord Wetherby continued on a few feet until he realized he no longer held her hand.

“My . . . lord!” Goodness, but she was out of breath. “I believe we have gone far enough. If we find sufficient quantities of the greenery we seek, we will be unable to carry it all back to the brake.”

“We can pile it up here and let the footmen carry it back for us.” He had walked back to her and now stood close, so close that his bergamot scent warred with the fresh smell of the firs all around them.

And a little more for good measure…

“Then we had best get to it, shall we?” With that Maria stalked off to the right, heading for a large stand of holly bushes that should be easy to collect, praying he would not follow her. The clean scent of the holly brushed the lingering traces of the spicy bergamot away, and she began tearing off small twigs with the bright red berries, avoiding the sharp points of the distinctive leaves.

Mentally bewailing the fact that they had brought no basket to collect the greenery in, Maria lay the torn branches carefully in her arm, going methodically from bush to bush, trying not to strip an entire plant, but leave something of it intact to grow and seed for next year.

A basket and scissors certainly would have been very useful to this endeavor. Maria’s hands became scratched, even through the protection of her gloves. Perhaps she should have gone after the fir branches instead. Gathering up an armful of small pieces, she judged she had enough and turned toward the growing pile of branches on the ground. As she tossed them on the heap, one of the holly leaves caught her index finger, jabbing deep through the material of her glove and into the tender flesh of the pad.

“Ouch!” Maria dropped the branches she carried and peeled off her glove. A red indentation showed the location of the wound and she squeezed the finger to see if it still seeped. As she grasped the finger a bright bead of blood welled up on the pad. “Drat.”