BLURB:

Enter the world of the most notorious gambling den in London, where matches are made… unusually. Welcome to the world of THE LYON’S DEN: The Black Widow of Whitehall Connected World, where the underground of Regency London thrives… and loves.

What’s a young lady to do when a powerful lord tries to abscond with her and make her his mistress?

When you’re Miss Honoria Quinn, you leap from his carriage and run like the wind to find some place to hide. Trouble is, Honoria mistakenly chooses The Lyon’s Den, a disreputable gambling house as her sanctuary, a move that ends up with her having to make another choice at the hands of the Den’s match-making proprietor Mrs. Dove-Lyons: wed a complete stranger or become the lord’s mistress.

No good deed goes unpunished…

Thomas, Lord Braeton agrees to attend a wager at The Lyon’s Den only to keep his brother-in-law out of trouble. What he doesn’t count on is becoming embroiled in one of Mrs. Dove-Lyons’s schemes to marry him off. But when he tries to come to the aid of another peer, Thomas finds the only honorable thing he can do to save Miss Quinn’s reputation is put aside his hopes for a love match for himself and instead offer to marry her.

As Thomas and Honoria set out on a wary journey to matrimony, can they learn to live together and hope love will grow between them? Or are they doomed to a loveless marriage of convenience from which one or both will want to escape?

I’m continuing this snippet a few pages later than last week’s snippet. Honoria has run through the streets of London with Lord Danford in pursuit on foot. Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

Where could she go to seek sanctuary? Any other block would have a church that might take her in, but this street also boasted only dark, inhospitable buildings–save for the one at the end of the street.

Standing at four or five stories, the structure ahead of her was certainly imposing, just as the others that surrounded it, but this one, painted a pale blue and with myriad windows lined in white, seemed to exude hospitality, as though it beckoned passersby in. It seemed the perfect place to apply for succor.

Honoria started for the welcoming front door only to be brought up short when she was all but upon it. Two rather tall, husky gentlemen stepped in front of the door, as though they were guarding it. A glance over her shoulder gave her a nasty turn: Lord Danford had just emerged onto the street, peering up and down it. He’d see her standing here any moment. It was all or nothing now.

And a little more for good measure…

Stalking up to the closer of the two guards, Honoria squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Whose house is this, may I ask?”

The guards exchanged a glance. “Whose do you think it is?”

Desperation made her next words sharper than ever before. “I wouldn’t ask you if I knew, now would I?”

A chuckle from the near man made her clench her teeth. “Maybe you would and maybe you wouldn’t, miss. Who’re you looking for?”

“I’m looking for anyone who will help me.” She wanted so badly to turn again and see if Lord Danford had spotted her but was too afraid of what she might discover.

Again, the guards exchanged a glance, and the one who hadn’t yet spoken pointed to the corner of the house. “Ladies’ entrance is ‘round the side here. Pr’haps Hermia or Helena will be able to help you.”

The strange names made Honoria pause only a moment before she nodded and hurried in the direction the man had indicated. She called, “Thank you,” as she turned the corner and ran full out up the flight of stairs to an entryway on the second floor. This door was also guarded—what was this place—by two imposing women dressed in men’s clothing who Honoria assumed were Hermia and Helena. “Can you help me?”

BLURB:

Enter the world of the most notorious gambling den in London, where matches are made… unusually. Welcome to the world of THE LYON’S DEN: The Black Widow of Whitehall Connected World, where the underground of Regency London thrives… and loves.

What’s a young lady to do when a powerful lord tries to abscond with her and make her his mistress?

When you’re Miss Honoria Quinn, you leap from his carriage and run like the wind to find some place to hide. Trouble is, Honoria mistakenly chooses The Lyon’s Den, a disreputable gambling house as her sanctuary, a move that ends up with her having to make another choice at the hands of the Den’s match-making proprietor Mrs. Dove-Lyons: wed a complete stranger or become the lord’s mistress.

No good deed goes unpunished…

Thomas, Lord Braeton agrees to attend a wager at The Lyon’s Den only to keep his brother-in-law out of trouble. What he doesn’t count on is becoming embroiled in one of Mrs. Dove-Lyons’s schemes to marry him off. But when he tries to come to the aid of another peer, Thomas finds the only honorable thing he can do to save Miss Quinn’s reputation is put aside his hopes for a love match for himself and instead offer to marry her.

As Thomas and Honoria set out on a wary journey to matrimony, can they learn to live together and hope love will grow between them? Or are they doomed to a loveless marriage of convenience from which one or both will want to escape?

I’m starting this snippet in the middel of the action. Lord Danford has just entered a closed carriage with Miss Honoria Quinn and is making very bold advances toward her. By all rights, she’s ruined in Society’s eyes. But Honoria’s not taking this lying down, so to speak. Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

“I cannot allow my wife’s mother to be attended by a ruined woman, so I suggest you allow me to help you find a different position,” he leaned back and she stared into eyes as deeply black as any demon’s, “as my mistress.”

“No,” Honoria shook her head violently. Even if her reputation was purportedly in shreds, at least she could still claim her virtue. Little matter if no one else believed her, she would know the truth.

Lord Danford shrugged. “I think you may change your mind after we’ve spent several days together in bed.” He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “I can be very generous with you if you are equally generous with me.”

Then, quicker than a striking snake, he sank his mouth onto hers.

And a little more for good measure…

Completely shocked, Honoria couldn’t think what to do, leaving Lord Danford to take full advantage of her paralyzed body. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he plundered here and there, then pushed incredibly deeply into her throat until she almost gagged. Meanwhile, he slid his hands up onto her breasts, squeezing them until they ached, even through her clothing. At last, he released her right breast and that hand suddenly tried to worm its way underneath her skirts, his fingers brushing her knee, her thigh…

That touch, on her most intimate flesh, acted as a bucket of cold water thrown in Honoria’s face. She gasped as though coming up for air and was suddenly free of the deadly paralysis. Rearing back, she brought her arms up between them, planted her hands squarely on his chest, and heaved him across the carriage into the opposite corner. His head hit the windowpane with a crack, eliciting a groan from the man.

Lord Danford slowly sat up rubbing the back of his head. He cocked his head and frowned, like a puzzled hound. Without hesitation, Honoria grabbed the door handle, wrenched it downward, and threw it open.

The cobbled pavement flew by with dizzying speed, but she had no other choice. Taking a deep breath, and sending up a fervent prayer, she jumped.