On Sale now! NINE scorching historical romances by Victoria Vane.
Beginning today until August 13, all of award-winning romance author Victoria Vane’s indie titles are on sale for $0.99. If you have not read her steamy historical romances, now is a great time to try them out! If the $.99 price isn’t enough to stir you to action, we hope the following excepts will be!
ACCOLADES FOR VICTORIA VANE’S HISTORICAL ROMANCES:
- 2014 RONE Award Best historical post Medieval (Treacherous Temptations)
- 2014 RONE Finalist Best Historical post Medieval (The Sheik Retold)
- 2013 IRC Best Book Nomination (A Wild Night’s Bride)
- 2013 LASR Best Book Nomination (The Sheik Retold)
- 2012 TRS Cupid and Psyche nomination (A Breach of Promise)
- 2012 TBR Pile Book of The Month (A Breach of Promise)
- 2012 LASR Book of the month (The Devil You Know)
- 2012 Library Journal Best E-book Romance (The Devil DeVere Series)
- 2012 TRR Best Book Nomination (The Devil You Know)
- 2012 Love Romance Café Best Book Nomination (The Devil You Know)
- 2012 RONE nominations (A Wild Night’s Bride, The Virgin Huntress, The Devil You Know, The Devil’s Match)
EXCERPT : THE SHEIK RETOLD (erotic romance)
He did not ask me this time if I wanted him. He did not insist as before that I confess my desire. Perhaps he knew that also would break the spell. I would not have given voice to the words anyway. Instead, I let my body speak.
Leaning into him, my naked breasts against his linen-clad chest, I removed his headdress and slid my fingers into his silky hair. His breathing came harder, faster, as we stood there, immobile, with the length of our bodies pressed against one another. I could feel him growing more aroused by the second, yet he held back, watching me, as if daring me to make my next move in our new game of seductive chess.
My gaze was at the level of his chin. I slanted it upward an inch or two to study a mouth curved in bemusement. I darted higher to his eyes. There was a hint of challenge in them, nuanced with disbelief that I would take this any further, but he was mistaken if he thought I would back down.
No, on the contrary, I was more emboldened. I felt much like I had the first time I donned that daring green gown, venturing out in shyness and trepidation, but once I knew how well the garment suited me, I wore it unabashed and proud. So it was with my new mantle of seductress, I would wear it brazenly or not at all.
Drawing up her cascade of curls with one hand, he used the other to access her laces. His touch was gentle and lingering and seemed to take much longer than necessary. The feel of his fingers in her hair and the sheer intimacy of the act sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. “Pray, make haste,” she snapped. “If we’re here much longer the watch’ll be down on us, and we’ll all three end up in the Round House.”
She looked to DeVere to find him watching them, a sly smile hovering over his mouth. He pulled a flask from his pocket, taking a long drink before offering the bottle to Ned who took no notice as his gaze was now affixed to Phoebe’s face. The strange way he looked at her set her nerves on edge and made her skin tingle. “What is it?” she asked.
“N-Nothing,” he replied. “You’ve removed the mask. I hadn’t seen your entire face until now.”
“Oh,” she replied, feeling self-conscious. His expression made her fingers fumble as she tucked her long hair up into a mobcap. Her laces loosened, she instructed them both to turn their backs while they all three finished dressing.
“Are we quite ready?” she finally asked.
“Indeed,” answered DeVere, pocketing the flask in his red velvet footman’s coat and donning the white wig with a grin. “Though in truth, I think it highly unlikely that I’ll be the first footman to roger a chambermaid in the king’s bed.”
“Polly warned me about beasts like you!”
“Beasts, eh?” Hew rose and advanced toward her with a menacing look.
“Yes, men who subjugate with brute force. Do you handle your horses this way, as well? Do you beat them into submission?”
“Do you truly wish to know how I would handle a rogue horse, Vesta?”
There was a new look in his eyes, one she had never seen before. It was somehow dangerous and exciting. She licked her lips and swallowed as she backed her way across the room. “I think you’ve already demonstrated.”
He advanced on her, slowly, calmly, deliberately. “Pray disabuse yourself of that notion, my pet, for the crop is never my method of choice.”
“No? Then what is your method of choice?” she asked. Vesta found her heart racing and her breath coming faster. This was not the Hew she knew. This was a decidedly more dangerous version. He made her stomach flip and her blood race through her veins, a sensation she liked very much. He had backed her against the wood paneling, his arms braced on either side of her, trapping her in between. Vesta’s breath seized as the sexual tension flared, alive and pulsating between them.
“I have found only one effective way of dealing with a recalcitrant mount,” he said, dipping his head so his deep blue eyes bored into hers. Vesta forced her breath out slowly even as her heart rate accelerated. She swallowed hard. “And that is?”
“By riding it to exhaustion.”
“Then, Captain Hewett DeVere,” she whispered. “Do your worst.”
“My apologies for disturbing you at this late hour, but I had to speak in private. No one else must know of this.”
“Disturbing me would be a vast understatement,” he replied. “I find myself unusually agitated at your change of heart.”
“You misunderstand,” she said, the same heart now sounding a frantic beat for retreat. “This is about the race. Reggie has fixed it. He has bribed your jockey.”
DeVere took possession of her hand, caressing her knuckles with his thumb. “I thank you for the warning, my dear.” He drew her fingers to his mouth, kissing them with deliberate languor, his hot breath against her cool skin sending tremors racing up her arm. “But you worry needlessly. For I already know.”
Her gaze fixed on his mouth. She tried in vain to ignore the warmth of it, the soft sensuous lips. “B-but how? How could you know? There was no one else about.”
“I treat my people very well, and they are devoutly loyal to me for it.”
Diana worried her lower lip. “What will you do now?”
“Whatever your heart desires.”
She shook her head sharply, unsettled by his continued attempts to unbalance her with his persistent innuendoes. “I’m speaking of the race.”
“The matter is taken care of.”
“You have confronted Reggie?”
His face hardened. “No. I have quite another method of dealing with this.”
“You won’t tell me?”
“I will not. It is a most unpleasant topic that I would rather not dwell upon when there are far more fascinating subjects at hand.” He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, and she broke away from him with a strangled sound.
“That’s not why I’m here. I came to protect my personal interests. To warn you about the race.”
“In nothing but your wrapper? Tsk, tsk, my pet. Untruths are so unbecoming. Yet it is precisely your most personal interests that are foremost in my mind at present.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he advanced and silenced her with a finger across her lips. He traced the curve of her mouth with a whisper touch that made her ache for his kiss. His thumb lingered, caressing her lower lip and making it tingle with exquisite sensation. She closed her eyes and bit her tongue to suppress the urge to lick him.
“You were made to be worshipped, Diana. Say the word, and I swear to atone for the grievous neglect you’ve suffered.”
He had spoken her darkest desires. She averted her face in an attempt to ignore the heightened awareness of him. The big, strong, near-naked body. The powerful chest exposed by the loose banyan, the even more powerful urge to touch him.
“I’ve not given you leave—”
“To touch you? To address you with such intimacy?” He laughed. “You and I both know you crossed that boundary at the threshold to my bedchamber.
Diana’s heart squeezed, and her eyes burned. “Yes! No! I don’t want it. I have given you all you asked and have upheld the bargain. Why isn’t it enough? Why do you wish to take more? You have my body. Are you the devil that you must also demand my soul?”
“Why?” he replied in a gravelly voice. “Because I have a need to see, touch, and taste your reciprocal pleasure. Pleasure is all I can offer you. It’s what I’m good at. It’s what I know. I am an indisputable master of it, and so it’s my gift to you—mindless, bone-melting, heart-sundering pleasure.”
“What do you mean it’s all you can offer? You speak as if you have no capacity for greater feeling.”
He laughed. “But haven’t you already implied that all of my feelings terminate in my…”
“I spoke out of resentment, but I know better now. I have seen your weak moments, Ludovic—your protectiveness, your generosity. These are proofs of underlying sentiment, even of sensibility. You are more than capable of love, yet you repress it within yourself and refuse to accept it from others.”
“Bollocks!” he exclaimed. “Is that what you really think?”
“It’s what I know.”
“All right, Diana. While we are at it, why can’t you let go? Why can’t you trust anyone?”
“You already know why. I let my guard down once in my life, only to later regret it.”
He gripped her shoulders. “I told you why I left. Why do you still refuse to understand? It never could have worked between us as things were, don’t you see that? The scandal would have destroyed a woman like you. I also knew I wasn’t prepared then to give you what you needed. You know I have never believed in monogamy.”
“Yes,” she said tightly. “You have made that clear on many occasions. But love requires a desire to sacrifice, Ludovic. To give up purely self-indulgent pleasure in return for something deeper and more meaningful.”
“Have you ever loved before, Diana?” he asked, deftly turning the tables.
The question caught her off guard. “No,” she said softly, but then her armor came up. “I once thought perhaps I could have, but I never really had the chance to find out.”
“Is that what truly eats at you?” he asked. “Incessantly and relentlessly plagues you? Refuses to ever give you any peace?” He dug deeper. “The lost opportunity? Never knowing for certain whether you have the capacity for it or not?” He twisted the knife.
“Yes! Damn you!” she cried, feeling the brunt of his counterstrike full force.
“Damn me, indeed,” he murmured, “for I suffer the same.”