Today, Christy Parker is sharing from her latest book, The Peculiar Princess.
Lexy knows she’s adopted, but someone forgot to mention her birth
parents are sixteenth-century monarchs who sent her to the future to
escape certain slaughter. Now Lexy is back in the past, living an
unusual fairytale. She’s not the normal storybook princess – she’s
used to electricity, comfortable clothing, and equal rights. Lord
Lukas Reynard, the nobleman responsible for restoring her as rightful
heir to the throne of her homeland, Dresdonia, isn’t a charming prince
by any stretch of the imagination. He believes women should be seen,
preferably in a restrictive corset, and not heard.
Lexy can overlook their differences for the good of Dresdonia, but she
cannot overlook the growing attraction she feels for Lukas. Only to
her does he show glimpses of the fragile soul beneath his chilling
façade. Soon she becomes torn between the place she knows in the
future and the place she was born to rule in the past. If she leaves
the sixteenth century, she may lose a love she only dreamed of. If
she stays, she may lose her life. For Lukas has a secret so shocking,
it could topple the hopes of Dresdonia and shatter her heart.
A gush of wind came from behind, and she twisted in her chair to find one of the tallest men she’d ever seen entering the house.
He was a vision of darkness, straight out of a history book. His black pants stopped at the knees, and an embroidered black doublet came up to his neck. When paired with the dark leather of his boots and black hair brushing his shoulders, she decided pure evil couldn’t dress better for the part. The irrational thought ran through her head that pure evil had no business looking as good as he did.
He spoke with a deep, haughty British accent as he strolled toward Ebbe. “The horses are stabled. Find Margaret and have her—” He stopped abruptly when he saw Lexy.
She forced herself to remain still as his gaze swept over her. His eyes were a captivating shade of blue-gray and his lashes thick and dark. How unfair of God to give a man such beautiful eyes. Or at least the eyes would have been beautiful on another man. On him, they were just cold and frosty.
Then his perfectly sculpted nose wrinkled as if a foul odor filled the room. “You there,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “Be gone.”
Was he talking to her? He must. He looked straight at her.
“Reynard,” Ebbe warned.
The stranger didn’t listen. If anything, the scorn in his expression deepened. “I expected more from you, Bixby.” He nodded toward her. “I believe I asked you to leave, girl. We have no need of a whore.”
Of all the—
She jumped to her feet, causing her chair to upturn and crash to the floor. Leaving it there, she marched to the tall man and pointed at his chest. “Did you just call me a whore? Listen here, you little—”
“Little?” He grabbed her wrist, and she grimaced at his grip. “I assure you, miss. I have been called numerous things before, but never ‘little.’”
He was right. There was nothing little about him. Standing closer to him, he seemed even taller. “Let go of me.” She jerked her arm, but it remained captured in his iron grasp.
“After I throw you out.”
The stranger sneered at Ebbe’s raised voice, though he continued to look at her. “Watch yourself, old man.”
“Advice you would do well to heed,” Ebbe suggested. “It is she.”
The man in front of her dropped her hand as if burned and gaped in shock. “It is?”
Lukas studied her with great care. “Are you quite certain? She has the look of a low-class harlot.”
She slapped his cheek.
“Along with the manners of one.”
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