Spotlight, Quiz, Excerpt & Giveaway: How to Train Your Highlander by Christy English

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How to Train Your Highlander (Broadswords and Ballrooms, #3) by Christy English

Publication Date: December 6, 2016

Genre: Historical Romance

Synopsis

img_5590She’s the Hellion of Hyde Park…

A foolproof plan to avoid marriage:
1. Always carry at least three blades.
2. Ride circles around any man.
3. Never get caught in a handsome duke’s arms.

Wild Highlander Mary Elizabeth Waters is living on borrowed time. She’s managed to dodge the marriage banns up to now, but even Englishmen can only be put off for so long…and there’s one in particular who has her in his sights.

Harold Percy, Duke of Northumberland, is enchanted by the beautiful hellion who outrides every man on his estate and dances Scottish reels while the ton looks on in horror. The more he sees Mary, the more he knows he has to have her, tradition and good sense be damned. But what’s a powerful man to do when the Highland spitfire of his dreams has no desire to be tamed…

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Buy Links

Kindle | Books-A-MillionBarnes & NobleiBooks

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WHICH HERO SHOULD YOU DATE? 

TAKE THE QUIZ: https://www.qzzr.com/c/quiz/295421/which-hero-should-you-date

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Excerpt

Harry had just begun to find his rhythm as he dug up the parterre rosebushes so that Simmons might plant them along the east-facing wall when he heard a thump and a curse that belonged on the docks or perhaps on one of his ships at sea.
“Damn and blast it!” the girl said again. “Now I’ve ruined another gown, and Ma won’t give me an allowance for any more.”
He looked up then from his work, knowing what he would find, for it seemed he knew the girl’s sultry voice already.
His siren from the carriage an hour earlier had wandered back into his domain, and had fallen in one of the holes left by the vacated rosebushes, her pink traveling gown covered in a long streak of ochre. He sighed, the last vestige of his peace falling away like the last bit of an orange peel. He watched it go, then turned to the lady, expecting tears at the very least, followed by sniffling and the need for his filthy handkerchief.
He wondered for one benighted moment if the girl had heard from the staff that the Recluse Duke was in the garden and, as a result, had come hunting him. His flesh began to cool, both from horror and from the sea wind touching the sweat on his shoulders. He wished for his waistcoat, which he had abandoned somewhere in the stables hours before, just as he wished for his friend Clyde to appear and occupy this woman with charm while Harry affected his escape.
Harry reminded himself that he was a gentleman and reluctantly started to help the girl out of her hole, when she straightened her skirt and leaped out of it on her own, apparently unscathed.
“Are you the blighter who left this gaping chasm so close to the path?” she asked.
Harry blinked and nodded. “I am.”
She seemed to want to say more, but perhaps she was remembering that she was a lady, for she drew a breath and let it out on one long exhale. “Well,” she said. “And this is what comes of letting a stable boy get into the garden. Hand me that shovel there, and be quick about it, before your head gardener sees this mess.”
He blinked and obeyed, and then watched as she filled the hole in the space of five minutes, layering the soil loosely so that it might breathe, then packing down the top with a flourish. She found the bag of crushed seashells bleached white sitting close by, and she covered the hole with a liberal amount of those, so that the next person who happened by might not trip as she had done.
Until he stood by and watched a beautiful woman fill a hole in the garden, the skirt of her gown pulled tight over a delightfully rounded behind as she worked, Harry would have said that he was a civilized man. Something was clearly wrong with him, for he had not fled, nor had he offered to assist her.
“I ought to have helped,” he said as she finished.
She leaned on her shovel and surveyed her work with what he could only assume was pleasure. His siren tipped her head back and took in the slanting rays of the afternoon sun on her skin. The summer days were long in the North, but the sun was cool. She seemed to drink it in like mead, before she turned her smile on him.
“And ruin a fine job?” she said. “I think not. You’re better off with the horses. Has his Royal Grace the Duke too few men to work for him, that a decent man of horses finds himself shifting among the flowers, then?”
Harry had never heard himself referred to in such a blasé yet disrespectful manner. He felt a frisson of irritation. He thought of revealing himself to this girl then and there.
But her curls were falling from their pins in a delightful disarray, catching the light of the sun with hints of honey brown and gold buried in them. She had the coloring his mother once had, when he was still a boy in short pants.
He put aside all thoughts of his mother and her plans for him, as his day had as yet been a pleasant one. He did not want to think of his mother and of all he had promised her.
Instead, he turned to the girl and offered her his arm.
“Might I escort you back to the house?”
“God forbid! I just escaped from there.”
“I am told the house is very fine,” he said, feeling slightly miffed.
She laughed at him. Her laughter was warm and sultry, as her voice was, but completely free, as if she were a courtesan who had been born into the wrong life. His siren did not seem to notice that he had not spoken again, nor did she seem to care for anything he might have said. She stopped laughing at last and handed the shovel to Simmons, who had appeared out of the bushes at the sound of her mirth.
“I’m off to find the sea, but I thank you.” She nodded to Simmons, who bowed to her. She frowned to see him do it, a bit of darkness coming into the maple brown of her eyes. But she rallied at once, so quickly that Harry was not certain he had seen the shadow at all.
“Try not to fall in a ditch on your way back to the stables.”
She sauntered off then, her rounded derriere swaying. Harry stood staring after her like a fool, not even offering her a farewell. He felt the eyes of his man heavy on him, and Harry shrugged to Simmons before he took off after her.

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Giveaway

5 copies of How to Seduce a Scot

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

Ever since Christy English picked up a fake sword in stage combat class at the age of fourteen, she has lived vicariously through the sword-wielding women of her imagination. A banker by day and a writer by night, she loves to eat chocolate, drink too many soft drinks, and walk the mountain trails of her home in North Carolina.

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Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: How to Wed a Warrior (Broadswords and Ballrooms Series) by Christy English

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How to Wed a Warrior (Broadswords and Ballrooms Series) by Christy English

Publication Date: February 2, 2016

Genre: Historical Romance

Synopsis

imageHe’s the scourge of the Season…

Reasons to quit London:
1. It’s not the Highlands.
2. It will never be the Highlands.
3. It’s full of the bloody English.

When his wild spitfire of a sister makes a scene by drawing a claymore in Hyde Park, Highlander Robert Waters knows something must be done. To forestall the inevitable scandal, he hires widowed Prudence Whittaker to teach his sister how to be a lady—never expecting to find unbridled passion beneath the clever Englishwoman’s prim exterior.

Mrs. Whittaker is a fraud. Born Lady Prudence Farthington, daughter of the ruined earl of Lynwood, she’s never even been married. In order to make her way in the world, she has to rely on her wits and a web of lies…lies a sexy Highlander is all too close to unraveling.

He swears he will possess her; she vows he will do nothing of the sort. Yet as passions heat, Prudence comes to realize the illicit pleasure that can be had in going toe-to-toe with a Scot.

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A Lady’s Guide to Proper (Mis)Behavior by Mrs. Prudence Whittaker on Proper Ton Etiquette (with additions by Miss Mary Elizabeth Waters)

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“A lady’s hair is always carefully tended and smooth.” —Mrs. Prudence
“A lady’s hair is on her own head, so it’s her own business what it looks like.” —Mary Elizabeth

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Excerpt

Robert’s eyes gleamed with mischief—and with something else, something darker, and a bit alarming. Pru’s stomach jumped at the sight of that heat, and a delicious shiver coursed through her.
When he spoke again, his voice was thick with the music of his homeland, and with something else. “Well, now, and don’t I love a woman with a backbone.”
“I’m sure you do. Now leave this room and go find one.”
“Aye,” he said, moving closer to her. She straightened her shoulders, and sniffed. His smile was infectious, and she had to work very hard not to give in and smile back.
“I do love a sniffing woman. A woman who knows her own mind, and isn’t shy about telling the world.”
“That is very edifying. I am sure there are many such women outside these four walls. Again, Mr. Waters, I bid you good day.”
Robert laughed and shook his head, stepping even closer until he was standing a mere two feet from her.
She took in the warm scent of cedar, and a hint of something else, some spice that was all Robert Waters and little else. She was sure that if he stood so close for much longer, she would lose the ability to speak at all.
“But you see, Mrs. Prudence, that’s the trouble. There are very few women beyond these four walls that speak their minds to a man and damn the consequences.”
“Honesty is its own reward.” Her heart thudded so hard that the pulse in her throat leaped. His eyes seemed to follow it, and then move up the line of her jaw, to her cheekbones, to her eyes.
“I wonder if it might reward me,” he said.
He closed the distance between them, and kissed her.
She had been kissed before, of course. She had been a debutante during the Peninsular War, when everyone thought that the young men around them were surely going to die. She had almost been engaged, and her swain had kissed her on the garden steps of her father’s house in the moonlight, so many years ago now that it seemed to have happened to another woman altogether. But this kiss was different, because Robert Waters offered it.
Pru shocked herself by accepting it for what it was—a warm touch in a world that was often very cold indeed.
She found herself pressed against him in the next instant. His hands did not come down on her. He did not touch her waist or her shoulders, but held his hands aloft, as if she kept him at gunpoint. She did not think of what that meant, but simply moved against him, taking in the heat of his body with her own. If only she might close the door and ignore her life and future and simply have him there in that lovely, overly luxurious room.
She felt his tongue on her lips, and she opened her mouth to his coaxing. He tasted of warm honey from breakfast. He tasted of man, and in some strange, indefinable way, of home.
He still had not touched her but to place his lips on hers. He withdrew his tongue, and then his mouth, and then stepped back, so that she was left alone, grasping at nothing.

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Buy Links

Kindle http://amzn.to/1YB4gRT
Amazon PBK http://amzn.to/1QX3NsJ
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1kqQp3g
Apple: http://apple.co/1UfuR60
BAM: http://bit.ly/1ToamUz
Indie Bound: http://bit.ly/1SlgfmX

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Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

Ever since Christy English picked up a fake sword in stage combat class at the age of fourteen, she has lived vicariously through the sword-wielding women of her imagination. A banker by day and a writer by night, she loves to eat chocolate, drink too many soft drinks, and walk the mountain trails of her home in North Carolina.

Social Networking Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Spotlight, Quiz & Giveaway: How to Seduce a Scot by Christy English

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How to Seduce a Scot (Broadswords and Ballrooms Series) by Christy English

Publication Date: December 1, 2015

Genre: Historical Romance

Synopsis

imageHe’s the terror of the ton…

The plan is simple:
1. Descend from the Highlands to face the aggravation of a London Season;
2. Foist his wild sister off on some gullible English lord;
3. Retreat before the ladies of the scandalized ton can get any ideas.

Determined to see his hellion of a sister wed, Highlander Alexander Waters is willing to face anything—even the English. He just didn’t expect his own rough manners to cause such a riot…or for a blooming English rose to catch his eye.

Gently bred Catherine Middlebrook must find a respectable man to marry or her family will be ruined. She won’t allow herself to be distracted by Highland barbarians…no matter how her body may thrill whenever Alex is near.

Catherine wasn’t part of the plan, but as their battle of wills escalates, Alex comes to realize this “proper” English girl is as wild as the Highlands themselves…and nothing will stop him from having her.

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What Kind of Historical Romance Heroine Are You?

Or http://books.sourcebooks.com/how-to-seduce-a-scot/

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Excerpt

“So you’ve changed your tastes from strapping Scots to foppish Englishmen in the space of twelve hours.”
Catherine did not have to turn to her left to see who spoke to her. She would have known that malmsey sweet, hot-honeyed voice anywhere.
“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Waters.”
“I think you do.” He touched her hand once, very lightly and she turned to face him. He was wearing his black leather gloves again, though the rest of the company wore white gloves of cotton. He seemed always ready to stand out, wanting always to set himself apart wherever he was. She wondered if he was like that in his homeland, too, or if he just reacted badly to London Society by constantly wanting to be gone.
Though it seemed that night, as his dark eyes devoured her, he did not wish himself anywhere but at her side.
Blast the man.

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Buy Links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1mao16T
Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/1MKz10e
Apple: http://apple.co/1WMKirV
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1MnPBnm
Books a Million: http://bit.ly/1PCobPd
Indie Bound: http://bit.ly/1O3HVcG

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Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~*~*~*~

About the Author

Ever since Christy English picked up a fake sword in stage combat class at the age of fourteen, she has lived vicariously through the sword-wielding women of her imagination. A banker by day and a writer by night, she loves to eat chocolate, drink too many soft drinks, and walk the mountain trails of her home in North Carolina.

Social Networking Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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