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394 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published October 3, 2017
It really should have been, she thought, as she tried to gain her breath whilst crushed to a body hard as stone by arms as unyielding as the iron shackles she’d crossed an ocean to escape.Okay, I'm about to stop here. But I have one nugget left and no spoiler gif either because this one left me speechless:
*****
Even in such a setting, his baritone was supple as silk against naked flesh.
*****
He was no barbarian. And certainly no gentleman.
He had to be a Celtic god.
Men worshiped metal and money these days, and he was crafted of both in equal measure. Also, there was no denying that the suit stretched over shoulders as wide as the Rocky Mountains must have cost incomprehensible amounts of cash.
*****
She’d have asked him what the hell “fash” meant, if his eyes hadn’t stunned her mute. Samantha had never in her life seen anything so verdant or so shockingly, absorbingly beautiful. Not the quaking leaves of the sparse aspens on the Nevada homestead where she’d been raised, or the brief spring grasses that quickly faded to gold, then brown beneath the relentless desert sun.
*****
Set like precious gems in features crafted by the same celestial hand that pulled the treacherous Sierra Nevada from the wild, willful earth. It wasn’t only his spectacular height and breadth that set him apart from the scant crowd—if one could call it a crowd after experiencing the crush of humanity at London’s Charring Cross Station—it was his uncommon magnificence. Samantha tried to find a different word. Something less dramatic, less ostentatious, and simply couldn’t.
He was, in a word … Magnificent.
*****
But this brawny stranger with features the perfect paradox of barbarian and aristocrat seemed to have her thoughts tumbling over each other like a litter of exuberant puppies.
*****
The disaster named Alison Ross. Light as a feather, she was, and devastating as a tornado. All long limbs and electric eyes.
She was no untried blushing bride … but this man had famously fucked more women than Casanova and Lord Byron combined.This is the main tone of the book and. It. Does. Not. Stop.
(Sorry, this is my all-time favourite gif)
“I’ve had enemies before.” Her pistol remained locked level with his heart. “And you know what I’ve learned, Lord Thorne?” He was beginning to hate the way she said his name. “That it’s those closest to you that you have to beware of,” she continued. “Along with those looking to be your friend when they have no cause but their own.”
“What about ye, lass? Knowing what ye do about the Lord Thorne’s infamous value—or lack thereof—for wedding vows, do ye, Alison Ross, take this … man … to be yer lawful husband? To have and to hold from this day until his interest wanes, for better, or likely worse, for richer or until he squanders yer fortune, in syphilis—pardon me—sickness and in health, until his death blessedly parts ye?”
What do you love most about gritty and emotional romances?
Do you admire Kerrigan Byrne's work and why?
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