- A Boon by Moonlight
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- Romantic Novel of the Year Awards Shortlisted Authors - RNA
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Lucas Wakeford, the Duke of Fountainhurst, leads a double life that leaves him little time for romance. After his parents died at the hands of brigands as a lad, he found his true passion in standing up for the powerless as his masked alter ego, the heroic highwayman, Silversmoke. As the duke, however—his charade as a scholarly quiz aside—Luke knows he must eventually marry. Besides, having a wife around could help him blend in with his fellow noblemen.
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- A Regency Christmas Treat: Moonlight and Mistletoe / A Mistletoe Masquerade.
Elegant and highborn Lady Portia Tennesley seems perfect for the sort of duchess Luke needs. Duke of Shadows is the fourth standalone novel in the Moonlight Square regency historical romance series. Buy Duke of Shadows to unmask a sexy, swashbuckling historical romance today! Oh my, oh my, oh my!!!
A Boon by Moonlight
I am completely lost for words at the brilliance of this, honestly there are no t enough words for just how amazing this book is. It has all the ingredients that we all look for in a Gaelen Foley book; gorgeous and engaging characters who grab your heart as soon as meeting them, thrilling and page-turning plot that will have your heart in your throat and sitting at the very edge of your seat, plus stunning historical deta il that weaves throughout the flawless story with such ease add to all of this that magical Gaelen Foley touch and you have the perfect book.
So, I will be eternally thankful for Gaelen Foley for that. T hat first chapter, Oh my goodness!! What a start, it grabs the attention within a few short words, you are completely hooked right to the last page. Yes, you guessed it our eccentric Duke has a secret — a big one, he is iving not just a double life, but he has three personas. Himself; Luke, the Duke; Lucas and Silversmoke.
The reason why Luke has taken up the mask is heart-breaking, when Luke reveals all of his heart about the circumstances that has put him where he is, I wanted to jump into Moonlight Square and hug him for dear life. Luke, Luke, Luke!!! Be still my beating heart, he is a wonder. Double Swoon!! Talk about sexy! No, I am not at all jealous of Portia, not one bit! But, as you may have guessed there is so much more then meets the eye, but let me say that when all pieces of the jigsaw fall into place y ou will not be disappointed , this is stonking great story!
Romantic Novel of the Year Awards Shortlisted Authors - RNA
I love the relationship between Luke and Portia, its complex, seductive, the chemistry is tantalizing, those heated glances and the gentle touches are just gorgeous. I so love these two, they maybe one my favourite couples of the year. T his is just too damn good!! It beautifully written by a hugely talented author who truly knows her craft, she is a master at historical romances with edge. The pacing, is fantastic, it takes the reader on a real roller-coaster journey of emotions.
- Moon Called (Mercy Thompson, #1) by Patricia Briggs.
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- Io e il tour (Italian Edition).
You never know what is around the corner, will Silversmoke find Joel? Will Lucas and Portia ever find what they are both are looking for? I cannot recommend this book more, it needs to be read its as simple as that! I am soooo excited about those!!
This was an Arc copy via the author in exchange for an honest review, thank you so much Gaelen. Duke of Shadows is to be released tomorrow; 21 st May, and do go and grab yourself a copy. The waves beside them danced; but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee; A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company; I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought What wealth to me the show had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
She was a Phantom of Delight She was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
I saw her upon a nearer view, A Spirit, yet a Woman too! Her household motions light and free, And steps of virgin liberty; A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles. And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine; A Being breathing thoughtful breath, A Traveler between life and death; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; A perfect Woman, nobly planned, To warm, to comfort, and command; And yet a Spirit still, and bright, With something of angelic light.
Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! No Nightingale did ever chaunt More welcome notes to weary bands Of travellers in some shady haunt, Among Arabian sands: A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird, Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again? Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang As if her song could have no ending; I saw her singing at her work, And o'er the sickle bending;-- I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more. Not blither is the mountain roe; With many a wanton stroke Her feet disperse the powd'ry snow That rises up like smoke.
The storm came on before its time, She wander'd up and down, And many a hill did Lucy climb But never reach'd the Town. The wretched Parents all that night Went shouting far and wide; But there was neither sound nor sight To serve them for a guide. At day-break on a hill they stood That overlook'd the Moor; And thence they saw the Bridge of Wood A furlong from their door.
And now they homeward turn'd, cry'd, "In Heaven we all shall meet! Then downwards from the steep hill's edge They track'd the footmarks small; And through the broken hawthorn-hedge, And by the long stone-wall; And then an open field they cross'd: The marks were still the same; They track'd them on, nor ever lost, And to the Bridge they came.
They follow'd from the snowy bank Those footmarks, one by one, Into the middle of the plank, And further there were none.