“Galen provides plenty of explosiveness, both literal and erotic, in a Regency-era romantic thriller packed with intrigue and lust.” – Publishers Weekly
~ Excertp ~
Somewhere in Europe, 1816
She crept down the corridor, back to the wall, straining to place
the voices of the men. Somewhere a woman was crying, a dog barked, and a horse-drawn
cart rattled by. The stench of urine and blood burned her nostrils, but she
moved forward.
Two men. French-speakers, though only one was a native speaker. The
other…the accent sounded Turkish? She turned her head to locate the voices.
Closed door.
Room at the end of the hall.
Three steps.Two.One.
She paused outside, drawing her knife. She didn’t want to risk her
pistol misfiring and left it tucked inside her coat, along with a stash of
balls and powder. She was dressed as a man because the clothing was more
practical and attracted less attention. She didn’t think she’d fool anyone who
looked closely. And she didn’t care.
A man inside the room—the Frenchman—spoke again, and her hand
stilled on the door’s latch.
“Reaper is dead,” she translated silently. “He took his life in
prison.”
News traveled quickly, though not accurately. The report she’d seen
claimed Foncé gained access to Reaper and slit his throat. The leader of the
Maîtriser group didn’t tolerate failure. When Foncé realized she, an agent of
his hated Barbican group, had tracked two of his men to this ramshackle flash
ken, their lives would be forfeit as well. Perhaps that cold fact would be
incentive for them to assist her in locating their leader.
Or perhaps it would only make them more eager to kill her.
Either way, the games were about to begin.
She pulled her hand away from the door, stepped back, raised a
booted foot, and kicked. The thin wooden door splintered and shot open with a
loud crack. The men
jumped up, but they didn’t move quickly enough. Her knife flew from her
fingers, catching one man in the shoulder and pinning him to the wall behind
him. He screamed while the other man fumbled for his pistol. She obligingly
reached for hers. “I’ll kill you before you even pack your powder,” she said in
French. “Do us both a favor and lower your pistol before I’m forced to shoot
you.”
***
Her name is Bonde,
Jane Bonde…
A beautiful and eligible member of the ton, Jane has more
than a few secrets: she’s one of the Crown’s most elite agents. She may be
deadly, but she doesn’t know a thing about fashion, flirtation, or love…until
Dominic Griffyn shakes up her carefully stirred world and asks her to be his
bride. He’s exactly the kind of man she’s not looking for. And he’s dangerous,
because falling into his arms is so much more satisfying than saving England
from her enemies.
He’s an improper
gentleman who needs a wife…
Talk, dark, and tortured, Dominic Griffyn is haunted by
demons from his past. When his stepfather insists that he marry, Dominic allows
himself to hope that the beautiful but mysterious Miss Bonde might help him
forget his troubles. As they grow closer, it’s clear that there’s more to Jane
than danger. She might be just what his neglected heart needs.
~ About The Author ~
Shana Galen is
the bestselling author of fast-paced adventurous Regency historicals. She
taught English at the middle and high school level off and on for eleven years.
Most of those years were spent working in Houston’s inner city. Now she writes
full-time. She lives in Houston, Texas .
~ Buy Links ~
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Thanks so much for featuring me!
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