Today's focus is on the regency romance Miss George’s Second Chance by Heather Boyd. It's part of the Miss Mayhem novella series.
Heather will be
awarding an e-copy of Miss George's Second Chance to three randomly drawn
commenters during the tour. To be entered for a chance to win, leave a comment below. And to increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit other tour stops and leave comments there, too.
Blurb for
Miss George’s Second Chance:
When desperately private writer Imogen offered to marry Peter
Watson it wasn’t just to save a friend but to secure her own future. With her
eyesight failing and no other prospects for marital bliss on the horizon,
surely it wouldn’t be too horrible to marry without the benefits of love. But
then Peter gains a title a week before they’re set to wed and all of Imogen’s
expectations change.
Peter once believed that marriage to Imogen would solve his
financial problems. He didn’t mind marrying for convenience and a large fortune
when affection was within reach. Yet when he gains a title, an estate, and a
fortune of his own the secretive writer releases him from their engagement so
he might marry for love. Now he’s returned, unwed and unaware of changes in her
life, should he do what is expected or listen to his heart instead?
Excerpt from Miss George’s Second Chance:
Difficult situations required
desperate measures. Imogen George--writer, spinster and pragmatist--steeled her
heart to be as brutal as any heroine before her had ever been. “Have you sulked
enough Mr. Watson?”
The man sitting on the dark Brighton
shoreline surged to his feet and then faced her. “Hell’s bells, what are you
doing here?”
Imogen clenched her hands together
to hide their trembling. Standing on the dark beach, waves crashing around
them, made her meeting with her best friend’s brother potentially romantic
though she doubted it would be. “I have a proposition for you, Mr. Watson. Do
sit down.”
She limped forward, annoyed that her
clumsiness at dinner earlier in the evening at his house had robbed her of her
dignity. It was not every day she pursued a man for conversation, even when he
was her best friends elder brother. She was taking quite a risk being here but
it was within her power to improve their lot. Peter Watson may lack the good
sense to detect and seize his only chance for security, but Imogen would not.
She had a plan for her life and Mr. Peter Watson would suit her needs
perfectly.
When she found the place she meant
to sit, Mr. Watson remembered his manners and gallantly swept his coat from his
shoulders and spread it on the ground so she might rest upon it. She was
pleased to see that even while desperate, he did retain some good qualities.
Her hopes for a smooth resolution soared.
“Where is your chaperone, Miss
George?” Mr. Watson asked suddenly, squinting into the darkness toward the
township where their respective homes lay.
With her eyesight as poor as it was,
Imogen couldn’t say for certain in which direction her reluctant chaperone, her
brother Walter, stood, so she waved her hand airily in the direction she’d left
him, hoping her companion would not notice or point out if she were utterly
wrong. “Walter is over there. Never mind about him for the present. Do sit down
so I may avoid suffering a pained neck from looking up at you.”
As Mr. Watson sank to the ground
nearby, a weary sigh left his lips. “I am sorry I tumbled you over earlier
tonight, Miss George. You have no idea how sorry.”
“I did say at the time not to
concern yourself unduly.” In truth, Imogen was often clumsy outside her home.
The objects of her surroundings were less likely to jump out and trip her up if
she stayed in familiar territory. Friends frequently moved their furniture and
if she could see with any degree of certainty, she would never have stood in
Peter’s way to have been in danger. As it was, the world was a trifle fuzzy at
times—tonight being one of those. “The collision was as much my fault as
yours.”
How did Mr. Watson take her presence
she couldn’t tell, but she was determined to press on regardless. There was no
point beating about the bush when she judged speed was worth being somewhat
more forward. She had a solution to offer Mr. Watson that would meet his
immediate need and her future requirements. “Marry me.”
Her mouth grew dry and she
swallowed, preparing for his response.
At her side, Mr. Watson furiously
rubbed his ear. When he lowered his hand and did not turn his head in her
direction, she repeated her proposal in a louder voice. “I asked you to marry
me, Mr. Watson. What do you have to say about that?”
“That’s what I thought I heard,” he
muttered. “I don’t need pity.”
Imogen heaved a heavy sigh. It had
been too much to hope that he would leap on her proposal and agree immediately.
A long discussion was undoubtedly necessary to secure his agreement. “I know.
And I’m not offering you a bit of it. You need money. Immediately, or you will
lose your home and perhaps be forced to debtor’s prison. Your sister’s heart is
in danger of breaking if such a calamity should come to pass. I can help get
you out of your predicament with little effort on your part and none at all on
mine. It is a perfect arrangement.”
He dug a hole in the sand between
them with his fingers. “Surely there is someone you fancy to marry rather than
me?”
Author bio
and links:
Bestselling
historical author Heather Boyd believes every character she creates deserves
their own happily-ever-after, no matter how much trouble she puts them through.
With that goal in mind, she weaves sizzling English set love stories that push
the boundaries of regency era propriety to keep readers enthralled until the
wee hours of the morning. Brimming with new ideas, she frequently wishes she
could type as fast as she conjures new storylines. While writing full time
north of Sydney, Australia, Heather collects dust bunnies in all corners of the
house and does her best to wrangle her testosterone-fuelled family into
submission.
Links:
Thanks for hosting!
ReplyDeleteSounds great! Love the name Imogen, too. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for having me on your blog.
ReplyDelete