Tempting
Mr. Weatherstone
Wallflower
Weddings Book #0.5
By: Vivienne Lorret
On Sale Nov 25th, 2014
Avon Romance
Blurb
Penelope
Rutledge longs for passion, but only with the man of her dreams: the brilliant,
dashing Ethan Weatherstone. If only her longtime neighbor would open his eyes
and realize how much she loves him. If only they weren’t best friends with so
much at stake. Penelope knows her future - and their friendship - is in her
hands, but is she willing to take the biggest risk of all on the man she loves?
If it were up
to Ethan, life and love would be as predictable as the figures in his ledgers -
certainly nothing like the adventures Penelope longs for. Yet his childhood
friend has grown into a beautiful, feisty woman blissfully unaware of the
danger she causes when near. Ethan knows he must save Penelope-and her
reputation...but can he save himself from the temptation of her lips?
Tempting Mr. Weatherstone
Series
Buy Links:
Guest Post
What is Next for Vivienne Lorret!
Thank you for having me here
today!
I’m currently working on THE
RAKES OF FALLOW HALL for Avon Impulse. The series follows three rakes who
declare never to marry. Then one night, they wager against each other. The last
bachelor standing will win £10,000. A rivalry begins. Then, with a fortune and pride on the
line, it’s every man for himself.
I’m having a lot of fun with
the series. The heroes are sexy, driven and competitive. They want to win. The
heroines come along and challenge everything the heroes think they know about
themselves. Add in a loveable, matchmaking dog, and these rakes won’t know what
hit them.
Also, I’m happy to say that
Ethan Weatherstone, from TEMPTING MR. WEATHERSTONE, makes a cameo appearance in
book 2 of the series.
The first story is THE ELUSIVE LORD EVERHART—release
date, March 24th, 2015
The second is THE DEVILISH MR.
DANVERS—release date, April 21st, 2015
The third is THE MADDENING LORD
MONTWOOD—release date, June 9th, 2015
Excerpt
Ethan Weatherstone was due for a piece of her mind. It was about time he understood that he had no right to interfere with her life.
Mind made up, she took one last look at the mail coach and shook her head. She reached down for her satchel and stormed over to Ethan’s carriage.
Penelope threw open the door and climbed inside, seething as she sat across from him. He didn’t even have the courtesy to look at her. Instead, he sat back against the squabs, his head turned to the window. The only reason she knew he was aware of her presence was from the way he clenched his jaw, a muscle twitching just beneath the surface of his skin.
“Were you waiting to humiliate me? Waiting until I was already seated before you dragged me away from the mail coach? Or perhaps you planned to follow me all the way to Portsmouth?”
He refused to respond or even so much as look at her. If she hadn’t been angry before she entered the carriage, then she certainly was fuming now.
“Truly, Ethan, for someone who cannot live outside the lines of your carefully crafted order, your sameness that covers you like a shroud, this is quite surprising behavior,” she hissed, baiting him. “I only wish your concern for my happiness were as great as your concern for my reputation.”
At that, he glared at her sharply. Ah, so she’d struck a chord.
Good. Yet still, he did not say anything.
There he sat, perfectly groomed, his cravat perfectly pleated, his temper perfectly managed. She wished just once he’d lose some of that control. Because here she sat, with her eyes, most likely puffy and red from having cried most of the night instead of sleeping. She was certainly not perfectly groomed, since she could feel a soggy tendril of hair plastered to her cheek. Her cloak was damp from rain. Her nose was cold and likely red as well.
“How can you be so . . . so unaffected all the time?” Her voice rose with her accusation. “Haven’t you ever dreamed for something outside the realm of possibility? Or are you content with each day so long as your cravat is perfectly pleated?”
She glared at the offending garment, struck by a ridiculous notion to crumple it. No sooner had the idea formed that she gave in to the impulse and moved forward on her seat, her arm reaching forward.
Ethan stopped her, taking hold of her wrist. His eyes flared. Before she could react, he yanked, propelling her forward to land clumsily on his lap.
“How dare—”
His mouth covered hers, silencing her outrage. Her head spun, reeling from the sudden scorching heat of his kiss.
This was a kiss, wasn’t it? Yet, it was nothing like her dreams, where his rehearsed request was followed by carefully controlled actions. No, this was no gentle dream. This was hard and demanding. His tongue didn’t request entrance but swept in and plundered.
His arms were not gentle either. In fact, he held her so tightly she couldn’t move, and grasped her wrist so she couldn’t touch him or push him away.
But she’d never push him away.
Instead, she wanted to cling to him. Her anger evaporated in a rush of steam. Her mind cried out for more of this glorious punishment. She wanted his kiss to burn her, through and through. This was the first time she’d been warm in months.
Author Info
I fell in
love with fairy tales and the romance behind happily ever after at a very young
age. Like a lot of you, I tweaked the fables bit by bit in my imagination until
they suited me perfectly. By the time I was eleven, a teacher encouraged me to
start writing.
Throughout
the years that followed, my teachers remained my most fervent supporters,
giving me the tools I needed to continue my journey as a writer.
My husband
and I have two teenage boys, who are heroes in their own right. For now, we
live in a small Midwestern town near Lake Michigan…until a time in the future
when a new adventure calls us to other shores.
I am
currently working on my next novel, but I always enjoy hearing from my
readers. Feel free to email me at vivienne@vivlorret.net
Author Links:
Excerpt
Ethan
Weatherstone was due for a piece of her mind. It was about time he understood
that he had no right to interfere with her life.
Mind made up,
she took one last look at the mail coach and shook her head. She reached down
for her satchel and stormed over to Ethan’s carriage.
Penelope
threw open the door and climbed inside, seething as she sat across from him. He
didn’t even have the courtesy to look at her. Instead, he sat back against the
squabs, his head turned to the window. The only reason she knew he was aware of
her presence was from the way he clenched his jaw, a muscle twitching just
beneath the surface of his skin.
“Were you
waiting to humiliate me? Waiting until I was already seated before you dragged
me away from the mail coach? Or perhaps you planned to follow me all the way to
Portsmouth?”
He refused to
respond or even so much as look at her. If she hadn’t been angry before she
entered the carriage, then she certainly was fuming now.
“Truly,
Ethan, for someone who cannot live outside the lines of your carefully crafted
order, your sameness that covers you like a shroud, this is quite surprising
behavior,” she hissed, baiting him. “I only wish your concern for my happiness
were as great as your concern for my reputation.”
At that, he
glared at her sharply. Ah, so she’d struck a chord.
Good. Yet
still, he did not say anything.
There he sat,
perfectly groomed, his cravat perfectly pleated, his temper perfectly managed.
She wished just once he’d lose some of that control. Because here she sat, with
her eyes, most likely puffy and red from having cried most of the night instead
of sleeping. She was certainly not perfectly groomed, since she could feel a
soggy tendril of hair plastered to her cheek. Her cloak was damp from rain. Her
nose was cold and likely red as well.
“How can you
be so . . . so unaffected all the time?” Her voice rose
with her accusation. “Haven’t you ever dreamed for something outside the realm
of possibility? Or are you content with each day so long as your cravat is
perfectly pleated?”
She glared at
the offending garment, struck by a ridiculous notion to crumple it. No sooner
had the idea formed that she gave in to the impulse and moved forward on her
seat, her arm reaching forward.
Ethan stopped
her, taking hold of her wrist. His eyes flared. Before she could react, he
yanked, propelling her forward to land clumsily on his lap.
“How dare—”
His mouth
covered hers, silencing her outrage. Her head spun, reeling from the sudden
scorching heat of his kiss.
This was a
kiss, wasn’t it? Yet, it was nothing like her dreams, where his rehearsed
request was followed by carefully controlled actions. No, this was no gentle
dream. This was hard and demanding. His tongue didn’t request entrance but
swept in and plundered.
His arms were
not gentle either. In fact, he held her so tightly she couldn’t move, and
grasped her wrist so she couldn’t touch him or push him away.
But she’d
never push him away.
Instead, she
wanted to cling to him. Her anger evaporated in a rush of steam. Her mind cried
out for more of this glorious punishment. She wanted his kiss to burn her,
through and through. This was the first time she’d been warm in months.
Thank you for hosting today! And Happy Thanksgiving!
ReplyDeleteFriends to lovers stories are great because the characters already know each other and are comfortable with each other, but then love strikes, and it's like seeing the other person for the first time. This sounds like a fun book!
ReplyDeleteThis book sounds really good! It's exciting when 2 characters who are just friends wake up one day and realize that they are in love with each other! I always hope they'll stay together!
ReplyDelete