Masquerade by Victoria Vale
While attending a scandalous Vauxhall
Gardens masquerade, Margaret finds herself in the duke’s arms. His promise of a
night of pleasure is tempting, but is it worth it when Avonleah is a known rake
notorious for his short attention span and avoidance of marriage?
Camden Rycroft is intrigued by the masked
vixen he encounters in the Gardens. After one night with her leaves him hungry
for more, his desire for her turns into a fiery obsession. Despite the scandal
that could ensue from their affair, he finds himself unable to extract himself
from a situation destined to end in pain. When faced with
losing Margaret to a potential husband, will he rise to the occasion, or risk living
without her?
Maya's Review
What a fantastic book. I have to say Ms Vale has put back the sexy in my regency romance list. I haven't read a regency romance in a long time mainly because I found that most of the stories I had been reading just blended into each other and were easily forgettable. But from the first page I found the characters to be fascinating and the storyline totally sizzling. I couldn't put it down. Avonleah is OMG swoon-worthy. I loved him. He will live in my dreams for a few nights yet. Seriously, you have to read this book. Can't recommend it enough.
Excerpt 1 (Rated
PG):
“I
have another bit of news sure to catch your interest,” Cordelia continued
between sips of lemonade. “You will never guess who’s here.”
Margaret
rolled her eyes. “I am certain I won’t, so the suspense is hardly necessary.”
Cordelia’s
bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief, and one of her flaxen curls brushed
Margaret’s sable ones as she leaned in close to whisper.
“Avonleah.”
At
the mention of His Grace, the Duke of Avonleah, Margaret’s pulse began to race
and her gaze darted about the room in search of the man himself. If there
existed any male who personified her idea of perfection, it would be him. She
certainly would not suffer from indifference if he showed interest in courting her.
“There,”
Margaret whispered, inclining her head to indicate that she’d spotted him.
Cordelia followed her gaze and the two sighed in unison.
Swathed
in black, save for his snowy white shirt and linen, Lord Camden Rycroft, Duke
of Avonleah, was a sight to behold. Raven black hair swept his nape and his
brow in a whimsical tousle of unruly, yet artfully arranged locks. A strong
face with aquiline nose, sturdy jaw, and full, mocking lips enchanted the eye.
Yet,
for all his beauty, he possessed an inherent masculine air of strength and
quiet power. No sculpture could compare to his body, broad in the shoulders and
chest, tapered at the waist and hips, with powerful thighs and calves showcased
to perfection in snug evening breeches. Just the sight of him filled Margaret’s
mind with fantasies of snatching the pristine white cravat away from his throat
and opening the front of his shirt to bare his chest and run her tongue over
the bulging muscles.
“Dear
God, the man is beautiful,” Cordelia murmured.
Margaret,
incapable of words, nodded in agreement. As she followed his progress
throughout the room with her eyes, she couldn’t help but mourn the attentions
of a man she could never hope to capture. Not because of her looks. She’d been
blessed with a peaches and cream complexion, complete with a rosy pink mouth,
high cheekbones, and wide, doe eyes the color of chestnuts. The deep, rich hue
of her sable hair only served to enhance her features and coloring. Still, it
took more than a pretty face to capture the attention of His Grace, and
Margaret lacked the necessary goods.
How
could she tempt a man known for his rakish ways and sexual prowess while
dressed in the pale, pasty pastels of a debutante? Everyone knew Avonleah
preferred a bold, experienced woman, and she was hardly either.
Excerpt 2
(Adult):
“You
must know how many hearts you’ve stolen just by walking into a room. Many a
night, I have watched you take a lady into your arms to waltz with her and
wished I could be her. To be so close to you, moving together … to know your
scent and your touch …” She paused, realizing she’d said far too much.
Camden
circled behind her, placing his hands upon her shoulders. His lips brushed the
back of her neck and she shivered.
“I
cannot deny knowing you have watched me from afar all this time does not bring
me pleasure, Maggie,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path toward her ear.
“When you watched me with those women, did you wonder if there was more to our
association than a simple waltz would suggest?”
She
nodded in response, unable to speak when he nibbled on her neck, teasing the
most deliciously sensitive spot just beneath her ear.
“You
wondered if any of them would accompany me home, didn’t you? You thought about
what I did to them.”
She
groaned as he took the shell of her ear between his teeth.
“Yes,”
she sighed. “I did.”
“How
did you feel when you thought about it—when you imagined all the wicked things
I did to those other ladies?”
His
hands worked at the buttons running down her back, sliding them loose one by
one, opening her gown.
“Jealous,”
she admitted.
He
gripped the sleeves of her gown and pulled, lowering it to the floor to pool
around her feet. His hands took her waist and he pulled her against him, his
lips trailing along her shoulder.
“Did
you fantasize about me, Maggie? Did you wonder what it would be like to be one
of them?”
“I
did,” she said, her voice low and husky. “At night, alone in my bed, I closed
my eyes and tried to imagine what it was like to be with you.”
“Oh,
Maggie,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement and mock horror. “Never say
you were ever so naughty.”
She
giggled, bit her lower lip, and leaned back against him, resting her head on
his chest. “I was.”
“You
touched yourself when you thought about me, didn’t you?” One of his hands slid
across her stomach, lowering slowly toward the apex of her thighs. “Did you
pleasure yourself to fantasies of me?”
He
cupped her mons, his fingers massaging gently and drawing moisture from her
core.
“Yes,”
she gasped, her voice strained as he continued to tease her. “Yes, I did.”
“Show
me,” he whispered, removing his hand.
She
groaned in agitation, wishing for his touch again. Yet, he seemed to be waiting
for her to fulfill his command.
“Show
me how you pleasured yourself, Maggie,” he said, his voice a bit rougher this
time—a demand she dared not refuse. Not if she wished for more of the pleasure
he could give her.
Victoria Vale has written over two dozens Romance and Young Adult novels under
various pseudonyms. As a lover of erotic romance, she enjoys nothing more than
a sexy hero paired with a sassy heroine, flavored with a dash of spice and lots
of heat. A wife and mother of three, she enjoys reading (of course), cooking,
sewing … and other activities that aren’t appropriate for inclusion in a
biography.
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Sexy heroes ... sassy heroines ... electrifying erotic romance.
Website: www.eroticromancebyvicki.com
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Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/vickivale
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