The Whole Latte:
As soon as I heard the news that Barbara Devlin and Ellen Dugan were collaborating I eagerly waited to see how they would connect two genres, a pirate, and a witch. How would it link them together? Dear readers, the wait paid off In the most creative, romantic and fast paced way possible!
Bewitched and Beloved by Barbara Devlin and Ellen Dugan is a must read romance full of adventure and the perfect amount of magick. While each authors story can be read as a standalone, together they weave a tale that is one of the best collaborations I’ve ever read!
In the mood for a sexy pirate? Dive into the latest from Barbara, you are in for a treat! Cager Tyne’s story is full of secrets, sexy banter and of course sprinkled with a few of my favorite characters! Cager is ready to leave his pirating ways behind him, but can he move beyond his past?
Francie Osbourne has met her match in Cager and finally has found someone who challenges her. When Francie discovers his secret, will she run or help him navigate to move beyond the pain? They both may discover that love isn’t finished with either one of them quite so soon.
From the first page to the last Ellen’s story is full of rich, vivid scenes that draw you into the story and transport you into something exquisite. It’s like staring at the sidewalk scenes in Mary Poppins and before long, you find yourself in the painting! In Hannah Osbourne is a modern witch with a legacy to decipher amidst a sprinkling of clues. I adore Hannah, she’s bold, sassy and unafraid to say what’s on her mind. Especially when she meets our sexy hero, Detective Henry Walker, he’s mysterious, determined and absolutely yummy! There is something about him that begs for another story!
While I received an advance copy from the author for a fair and honest review, I purchased this collection because it’s that good! Oh, and at a bargain price of $0.99 it makes a great gift for yourself or a friend!
Check out an Except from THE BUCCANEER:
The love of a good woman could destroy a man’s peace of mind, because she often forced him to confront the less-than-noble aspects of his character, in order to win her heart, and he rarely recovered his sanity after the battle. It was for that reason Cager Tyne, former bosun of the pirate ship Black Morass turned captain of the renamed, respectable merchant vessel Lady Madalene, never sought more than free and easy access to a light skirt. Give him a three-penny upright or a disgruntled and dissatisfied wife, any day of the week, and he was happy.
Yet, as he admired the shapely arse of Francie Osborne, the young and pretty housekeeper and self-described Jane of all trades in the Cavalier home, as she bent to set a bucket on the floor and her cotton frock stretched taut across her hips, he was tempted to take up the fight, if only to savor a taste of her flesh.
“Will you fetch me another cup of coffee, pretty lady?” Sitting at the servant’s table in the kitchen, he held out his empty mug and smiled, which he knew from experience would ruffle her feathers, a pastime he rather enjoyed. “As I am quite thirsty this morning.”
“Get it yourself, Mr. Tyne.” Ah, there was the governessy tone that never failed to set his blood on fire. “I do not work for you.”
“Aw, now do not get your cute little nose in a snit.” As Cager imagined running his fingers through her thick blond hair, he licked his lips and relished the red flush of her cheeks. “I only want to be friends. Why do you always frown at me, Francie?”
“Because I know who you are, what you are, and what you want, and I am not interested. And it is Miss Osborne to you, sir.”
When he stood and blocked her path, Francie bared her teeth. Bloody hell, he could have proposed to her, then and there. “Now get out of my way, as there is work to be done, and I have no time for the likes of you.”
“But I have time for you.” In a flash, he snatched the bucket and mop from her grasp. “Now why do you flee, when I just want to become better acquainted, beautiful Francie? Would that not be nice?”
In that instant, she gave vent to a snort of frustration, and he could have kissed her silly. All that spirit wrapped in a dainty package he could not wait to unwrap, if she would simply cooperate.
“Mr. Tyne, give me back my things, and let me pass.” With her foot, she tapped an impatient rhythm, and he could not stifle his amusement. “Fine. I will dust the back parlor, first, and you can stand here, all day, and hold my mop and bucket.”
“My, but you are a stubborn bit o’ fluff.” Given her uncompromising demeanor, he shrugged, as he followed in her wake. “We could have fun, you and I. Why will you not take a chance on me?”
“Because fun is all you want, I am a good girl, and my father raised no fool.” She smoothed her crisp white apron. “What is your excuse?”
“You are a saucy wench, but I like that in my women.” He wagged a finger. “Mark my words, I will have you.”
“Would you care to wager on that, Mr. Tyne?” At last, he snared her attention, as she turned, faced him, and squared her shoulders, and her ample bosom distracted him. “Tell me, what can you afford to lose?”
“Are you that sure of yourself?” Surprised by her new tack, he rocked on his heels, because he was not only a betting man but also a winner. “Or would you prefer I think that, when in truth you are curious about me?”
“You are too bold by half, sir.” She snickered, as she returned to the kitchen, marched into the pantry, collected a couple of rags, and stomped to the back parlor, with Cager in tow. “And you mistake annoyance for curiosity, because I know your type.”
“And what is that, if I dare inquire?” Of course, it did not matter what she thought of him, because he wanted her. It was that simple.
“Mrs. Cavalier confides in me, as my family has served hers since before she was born.” After clearing a side table, Francie wiped clean the wood surface. “You were a buccaneer, as was Mr. Cavalier.”
“And you do not approve.” It was a statement, not a question.
“It is not my place to approve or disapprove of the master’s former occupation, though I cannot fathom whatever possessed Mrs. Cavalier to take him as her husband, but I do not have to tolerate it in you, Mr. Tyne.” Riding a wave of high dudgeon, which he found adorable, she tidied a stack of newspapers, and he studied her lush red lips, which he could suckle for hours. “And I certainly would never associate with you beyond the confines of my position in this household.”
Locking his legs, he folded his arms. “But you will.”
“Will—what?” She blinked.
“Associate with me, in my bed.” To increase the stakes, and rile her even more, because he could not resist her, he winked. “And it will make your eventual surrender all the more sweet.”
“Indeed.” The fascinating housekeeper scoffed. Then she smiled the sort of smile that gave him collywobbles. “Will you do me one favor, Mr. Tyne?”
“Anything you ask shall be granted, dear Francie.” He braced for the blow that he knew was forthcoming.
As she leaned near, he noted a subtle lavender scent, and it drew him as a bee to honey. “Hold your breath until that comes to pass.”
Then she rushed to the door, flung open the oak panel, and stormed from the parlor.
“You are a witch, Francie Osborne.” Now Cager chuckled, as she hiked her skirts and broke into a sprint, and he admired her shapely calves. “You cast a spell, and I am your most devout servant.”
Here’s a sneak peek of The Hidden Legacy!
“The temper I’d tried to keep at bay began to boil as soon as I heard those boots hit the hardwood floor. I set my jaw and did my best to ignore him.
Henry moved in my line of sight. “Hannah, do I have any messages?”
“Yes, you do.” Without sparing him a glance, I snatched a stack of messages from the desk and snapped my hand up in the air. “If you’d be so kind as to return them.”
“I’ll get right on that, this morning,” he drawled, taking the notes.
“That,” I said acidly, “would be a refreshing change.”
“Something sure has you riled up.” Henry leaned a hip on my desk. I could see him out of my peripheral vision. My shoulders stiffened when he smiled down at me.
He was baiting me. I knew it, and still I couldn’t help but snarl at him. “Get your ass off my desk.”
He started to laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever hear you cuss before.”
I kept working on the computer, and refused to spare him a glance. “Be assured Mr. Walker, the very last thing you want— is for me to curse you.”” © The Hidden Legacy, Bewitched & Beloved April 2017 by Ellen Dugan
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