A Feast of You by Sorcha Grace Excerpt

Book Blurb:

Cat and William have had the right ingredients for mind-blowing passion from the very start, and now their whirlwind romance has gotten serious. Very serious.  They’re practically living together, and sharing William’s luxury Chicago penthouse is even more delicious than Cat could ever have imagined.  Whether he’s cooking her an elaborate gourmet dinner or satisfying her every need in the bedroom, William Lambourne knows how to take care of his woman and Cat couldn’t be happier.

But life with Mr. Lambourne in his mansion in the sky quickly becomes complicated.  Demons from William’s past are back and they want to harm what’s most precious to him: Cat. He’ll do anything in his power to protect the woman he loves from danger, even hiring an elite security team to follow Catherine around the city. Cat loves that William wants to keep her safe, but she’s not used to being a target – or being so dependent.  And then there’s Cat’s new boss Hutch Morrison, the ex-rockstar-turned-world-renowned-chef who stirs up another kind of trouble. Cat’s definitely not used to seeing her stormy-eyed sex god so riled up.  Cat and William may be a perfect pairing, but when dangerous forces of all types threaten to keep them apart, it will take more than just their undeniable chemistry—and their insatiable appetites—to survive it.

Book 3 in Sorcha Grace’s The Epicurean series. ** Contains adult content. Suitable for readers 18 & up **

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Excerpt:

William arrived home just after seven o’clock. With his tie loosened and his hair adorably tousled, I felt the familiar urge to run my fingers through his thick, dark curls. Even after a full day of mastering the universe, his charcoal suit looked impeccable, as did the man wearing it.

I’d slipped into my racy new lingerie and pulled on a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and a cute black sequined top I’d bought at Zara a few years ago. Strappy black stilettos would have looked great, but we were staying in, so my feet were bare, showing off my newly pedicured red toenails.

We met in the living room and I went easily into his arms. I was greeted with, “There’s my beautiful girl,” as he pulled me tighter against him and slanted his mouth over mine.

He would have given me a quick kiss, but I didn’t pull away, allowing my lips to linger and my tongue to gently entwine with his as a promise of what was to come. My hands slid over his muscled chest and down his rock-hard biceps. He smelled delicious, as always, and looked like he’d come from a photo shoot for GQ. “You look good enough to eat,” I purred.

“You look pretty great yourself.” He gave my ass a quick pat and moved away. I waited for a Happy Valentine’s Day, but he was already leafing through his mail.

“What would you like to do for dinner?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

William shuffled an envelope to the back of the stack. “I already grabbed something,” he said. “I had a meeting and had to skip lunch.”

Okay. We’d agreed on a quiet night, but I thought we’d at least have dinner together. Maybe I’d misunderstood. I wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it, and I said, “Great. Well, I have dessert then.”

“That’s nice.” He was still looking at the damn mail.

“I thought so.”

Something in my tone finally made him look up, and he frowned. “Dessert? On a Wednesday night? That’s a little odd. What’s going on?”

I blinked at him. Had he seriously forgotten what day it was? Here I was with pie and sexy lingerie, ready to celebrate our first Valentine’s Day together, and he thought it was just any other Wednesday. I put my hands on my hips. “It’s not just Wednesday,” I said icily. “It’s Valentine’s Day, remember?”

“Valentine’s Day? Are you sure?” But he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

He was totally messing with me. “William!”

He started laughing. “Of course I remember. Practically every woman in the building had flowers delivered. And I ran into more than a few guys who were freaking out about what to buy their wives or girlfriends.” He pulled me into his arms again, sliding his hands over my hips. “Even if I’d wanted to forget—which I didn’t—I would have been reminded.”

“Lucky for you we said no gifts.”

“Yes, lucky me.”

I grinned at him. “Though I might have a little something for you,” I teased. “Guess.”

“Oh, really?” His fingers made small circles on my hips, dipping lower to caress my ass. “A heart filled with chocolates?”

“No, but it is red.” I lifted a hand to my shirt and slowly undid a button to reveal a red bra strap. William’s eyes, now a smoky grey, followed the movement.

“My favorite color. A tie?”

I undid another button, revealing the lace. “No…”

His hands cupped my bottom, pulling me against him. “Silk boxers?”

“You’re getting closer.”

“And you’re taking way too long with those buttons.” He gripped the fabric in his hands and yanked it open. Buttons and a few sequins went flying, and I gasped with surprise and also a little bit of pleasure.

“That was silk.”

“I’ll buy you another,” he said as he buried his lips against my neck.

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About The Author:

Sorcha Grace is an adventurous eater, beach lover and author of scorching contemporary erotic romance. She is also the nom de plume of a nationally bestselling author who publishes in another romance genre. Visit her online at www.sorchagrace.com and on Facebook (www.facebook.com/SorchaGrace) and Twitter (@SorchaGrace).

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Letters from the Heart by Rose Fairbanks Excerpt + Giveaway!

Welcome, dear readers! I am pleased to announce today's guest author. Rose Fairbanks has recently published her second novel, Letters from the Heart. I am thrilled to see Ms. Fairbanks publishing more novels. In the past, I have enjoyed reading books where Darcy and Elizabeth exchange letters. Letters from the Heart sounds like another such story I will enjoy! I hope you enjoy the great excerpt Rose has provided! And be sure to comment for a chance to win an ebook copy of Letters from the Heart!!

Blurb: Resolved to forget Elizabeth Bennet during a winter in London, Fitzwilliam Darcy writes a letter in bitterness of spirit. Frustrated by her growing obsession with the arrogant man, Elizabeth commits her thoughts to paper. But angry people are not always wise, and secret thoughts do not always remain secret. Compelled to face their selfishness and fears, their actions encourage those dearest to them to change as well.

Excerpt: As the blurb states, secret thoughts do not always remain secret. Darcy and Elizabeth’s thoughts have been sent to each other and there is now the fear of gossip ruining Elizabeth’s reputation. Mr. Bennet has just informed Elizabeth he will demand marriage from Darcy if the letters are known. Meanwhile Elizabeth, who now esteems Darcy, is convinced her own harsh words destroyed any admiration he felt for her. But it’s not really Elizabeth’s way to just mope around.

With such disheartened thoughts Elizabeth entered the drawing room, and soon thereafter Mr. Wickham and some other officers entered to call on the ladies. He began his familiar complaints about Darcy, but Elizabeth could not stand for it.

“I wonder, Mr. Wickham, that you were not able to find another parish.”

He shifted his eyes uncomfortably and paused before answering. “My only contacts were through Darcy, and his malice was so strong he would not see me settled anywhere.”

“Surely he cannot have such power over the entire kingdom, sir. Perhaps when my ordained cousin, Mr. Collins, returns in a few days he might have a recommendation for you.”

Mr. Wickham winced, and Elizabeth continued. “I only thought, sir, it would be a shame for you to waste your education and what must assuredly be a vocation for you. If you have the opportunity to give sermons and get some part of your just due—after all a clergyman earns more than a militia officer—then it must be worth any pain to your pride.”

He gave her a glare at the reminder of his income.

“For you would have spent three years studying for ordination and two years since awaiting orders somewhere, I believe.”

Mr. Wickham’s friend, Captain Denny, perked up then. “Ordination? I know I met you three years ago when you lived at Lincoln’s Inn.” Wickham stomped on his friend’s foot. The following exclamation of pain brought the notice of the room.

He attempted to explain as all eyes focused on him, but sounded unconvincing. “Darcy had made it plain at his father’s death, just as I was finishing at Cambridge, that he would deny me the living. I sought to study the law instead.”

Elizabeth hid her smirk at how fast his story changed. “That would have been a very great thing for you, indeed! But whatever happened? How could you afford it in the first place?”

“I was given a bequest of one thousand pounds.”

“I am glad to hear Mr. Darcy was not so hateful after all, to not give you anything from the will and that you were able to study. Such a sum must have covered all your costs.” One thousand pounds to study the law was just sufficient but an additional three thousand pounds was more than enough for educational and reasonable societal pursuits alike.

“There is that…but the living ought to have been mine.” He clearly chose not to address the fact that apparently he did not face the bar and could only blame it on his poor understanding or running low on funds and not finishing his education.

“I rather recall you mentioning it could be treated as conditional only, as Mr. Darcy claimed you rather extravagant.”

She paused, and Mr. Wickham gaped, searching for something to say.

“But then, we cannot think so generously of Mr. Darcy. Instead, let us consider the good fortune his father bestowed upon you by ensuring with every lawful means you received the one thousand pounds, to give you such a start in life.”

“Yes, I will forever be grateful for the kindness of the father.”

“It does you credit that you have not forgot him.”

Elizabeth gave Mr. Wickham a knowing look, and she could tell he understood her perfectly. Not many weeks ago he had vowed to never say a negative word of Darcy unless he could forget the good of his father.

Having heard the officers from his library, Mr. Bennet came and sat with them. Elizabeth cast worried looks to him, and soon he pointedly engaged in monopolizing Wickham’s time exclusively for the remainder of the call. Lydia seemed displeased, but was easily consoled with attention from others.

When they had left, Elizabeth followed her father into the library.

“In light of Mr. Darcy’s information on Mr. Wickham, what do you plan to do?” He did not look up from his book.

“Plan to do?”

“He is a rake and a gamester, surely a threat to our community.”

At his silence, she persevered. “Please, Papa. I was so mistaken in Mr. Darcy’s character and so willingly spoke against him even more so in the last week. Please, some redress is the least I can do.”

Mr. Bennet sighed and finally focused on his daughter. “What would you have me do? Mr. Darcy did not authorize us, or I should say you, to say anything about Wickham –if he even meant to send that letter at all. He left the area without concern for us, surely he must consider Wickham no great threat to us.”

“Perhaps...but he also had no connections in the area.  It would be quite impertinent for him to tell the area’s residents how to protect themselves from such an unworthy man. Nor could he say anything on Mr. Wickham’s dalliances without risking too much about his sister. The whole area is very prejudiced towards him.  It would be the death of half the good people of Meryton to find out that Wickham is a cad from Mr. Darcy’s own mouth. Yet, you they may believe.”

Her father groaned, and Elizabeth hastily spoke. “You need not be direct, after all you have no information of your own, but you are clever and well-respected. You can plant the seeds of doubt. How much is he spending, and how much does he earn? Is he known to treat the ladies respectably? Use his words against him. Why, only a moment ago I found many holes in his story about Mr. Darcy denying him the living with only a few simple questions!”

“Did you now?” he asked with pride.

Elizabeth smiled, “Indeed! I cannot think of how foolish I was to fall for it in the first place. If he were prepared for ordination then he would have done the necessary studies and been able to find work somewhere. If he did not study then what did he do between his godfather’s death and the time when the living fell vacant, and how could he expect Mr. Darcy to give him the living unqualified?”

“Quite right.”

“After a friend gave him away he declared that he realized upon graduation from university that Mr. Darcy never intended to give him the living, and so he chose to study law instead.”

Mr. Bennet’s eyebrows shot up in silent query, and his daughter continued. “Of course, how could a penniless steward’s son afford that in the first place? He confessed to receiving a bequest of one thousand pounds, which ought to have been sufficient to study. I did not bait him further by asking him why he was not a lawyer, or telling him I knew of the additional three thousand pounds Mr. Darcy gave him, but I did subtly remind him of his declaration to me weeks ago, that he would not besmirch the Darcy name out of loving memory for his godfather.

“So you see, we just need to make some statements like so, and he will lose all credibility.  Hopefully the merchants will not extend him so much credit that they are hurt when he leaves the area, and when others know he is not to be entirely honourable, they will hopefully defend their daughters.”

“You might be correct.” He paused for a minute. “And we have a special advocate amongst us.”

Understanding him, Elizabeth suppressed a chuckle. “Do you think Mamma would like to visit my Aunt Phillips?”

Mr. Bennet laughed heartily.

Author bio:

Rose Fairbanks fell in love with Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy twelve years ago. Coincidentally, or perhaps not, she also met her real life Mr. Darcy twelve years ago. They had their series of missteps, just like Elizabeth and Darcy, but are now teaching the admiring multitude what happiness in marriage really looks like and have been blessed with two children, a four year old son and a one year old daughter. 

Previously rereading her favorite Austen novels several times a year, Rose discovered Jane Austen Fan Fiction due to pregnancy-induced insomnia. Several months later she began writing. Letters from the Heart is Rose’s second published work.

Rose has a degree in history and hopes to one day finish her MA in Modern Europe and will focus on the Regency Era in Great Britain. For now, she gets to satiate her love of research, Pride and Prejudice, reading and writing....and the only thing she has to sacrifice is sleep! She proudly admits to her Darcy obsession, addictions to reading, chocolate and sweet tea, is always in the mood for a good debate and dearly loves to laugh.

You can connect with Rose on Facebook, Twitter, and her blog: rosefairbanks.com

***GIVEAWAY TIME***

Rose Fairbanks is kindly giving away ONE (1) ebook copy of Letters from the Heart to ONE (1) lucky commenter! 

To Enter, please leave a comment about today's excerpt or your thoughts on Letters from the Heart's premise. What piques your interest about this story?

Please be sure to leave your Twitter handle or email address. 

Giveaway is open internationally!!

Giveaway ends January 5, 2015!

Good Luck!!

And thanks again, Rose, for the giveaway and wonderful excerpt! :)

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