On Sale .99 at
Amazon and Barnes & Noble
June 20-22, 2014
By Natasha
Blackthorne
Book one in the Regency Risks Series
He is her most dangerous temptation,
the only man she has ever trusted and now he is demanding her submission. Dare
she take the risk?
Emotionally scarred in the horrific
accident that took her husband’s life, Lady Cranfield is imprisoned by her
lingering terror of horses and carriages. She longs to be closer to the
fascinating Earl of Ruel, as she senses intuitively that he might be able to
teach her how to overcome the terrors that hold her in bondage.
And now she’s willing to risk almost
anything—her reputation, even her virtue—to find out.
But what Lord Ruel proposes startles
her.
When the shy, studious and socially
awkward young widow approaches him, Lord Ruel instantly senses she will be the
sweetest, most submissive experience of his life—but first he must gain her
complete trust. Lord Ruel makes Lady Cranfield a non-negotiable offer: His help
in return for her submission and obedience.
But Lady Cranfield grew up neglected by
her ducal parents, raised by servants and then later ignored by her handsome,
charming husband. She’s learnt to protect her heart at all costs and she trusts
no one but herself.
How
can the jaded Earl of Ruel break through Lady Cranfield’s self-defences and
show her how to love when he himself has spent his life avoiding that tender
trap?
Erotica Romance ~ Light
BDSM ~ Rubenesque / BBW ~ Regency Historical ~ Shy Heroine ~ Novel Length
86,000 Words . Contains graphic erotic descriptions and frank sexual language.
As a work of historical romance fiction, A Measured Risk is not
intended to be an accurate portrayal of modern BDSM lifestyles.
Excerpt from A
Measured Risk
©Copyright Natasha
Blackthorne 2012, 2013
For Adults 18+ Only
She
backed all the way into the bookcase.
“
Why
did you run away?” His deep voice settled in her belly, rich and warm, like crème
brĂ»lĂ©e on a cold winter’s night.
“
Because
I wanted you to follow.” She tried to sound sophisticated and seductive, but
her voice choked off on the last word.
Ruel
placed his hand on the shelf above her head and blocked her path to the door.
His tall, solidly muscled body leaned over her, surrounding her with the
sumptuous, sinful scents of tobacco, Scotch whisky and something masculine and
undeniably dangerous. A slow, sensual smile stretched his hard mouth.
He
appeared different. Softer. More approachable.
At
the change, her insides seemed to flip over.
“
Well,
sweeting, getting us off alone was a very inspired idea.” He touched one of her
fallen ringlets. “I am bored to distraction with endless talk of hunting and
fencing.”
As
he slowly wrapped the curl around two fingers, he brushed her collarbone. Fiery
sparks tingled down her spine, so intense that she shivered and her nipples
beaded, pressing against her stays. By some instinct she hadn’t even known she
possessed, she arched her back, presenting herself for his assessment.
His
eyes shone so vividly blue against his bronzed face that they resembled
cornflowers. She swallowed tightly and wished for a long drink of claret. This
more personal side of him suddenly seemed far more hazardous than his usually
fierce exterior.
Well,
no matter. There was nothing to fear. She would allow only as much contact as
need be to get to know him a little. Since being torn from her lonely yet
secure life in Ireland and thrust into Society at age sixteen, she’d spent her
time allowing people only as near as was comfortable. She was an expert at
emotional evasion.
It
should be easy to regain her control.
But
now, as rays of the late-afternoon sun played over his pale hair, turning it
the colour of winter wheat, all her carefully rehearsed words flew from her
mind.
Say something—anything—else he will think you’re a bird-wit.
An
intimate smile, one that invited her to play, tugged at his mouth.
“
In
a situation like this, alone with a gentleman, it’s perfectly normal for a lady
to feel some apprehension.” His hushed voice, barely audible above the piano
and boisterous singing from down the corridor, accentuated their isolation. His
gaze became so piercing that she had to lower her eyes.
He
brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “She will invariably ask herself if he
will try to kiss her.”
She
jerked her eyes back to his face. God, he couldn’t mean to—not yet, surely…
Peculiar, heated chills swept over her. She tried to take a step back, but
found her arse flush against the bookshelf.
He
leaned closer; so close that his Scotch-scented breath tickled her face. “And
just in case you are wondering, Lady Cranfield—the answer is most assuredly
yes.”
She
should demand that he put his arm down so she could pass by and leave. She
really should. But she couldn’t stop looking at his hard mouth and wondering
what it would feel like upon hers. He was so close to her that his breath blew
on her lips. If she moved but a fraction, she’d be kissing him.
Kissing him.
Dear
God. Her breaths began to come very fast and short. Her throat went tight with
a suppressed moan.
His
eyes burnt as brightly as aquamarines. He looked so fierce. If he kissed her,
if he dared… Oh God, it would be so harsh. That cruel-looking mouth could
express itself no other way.
Excitement
rushed through her, sending tingles to every point of her body, even her toes.
But
no, he wouldn’t. Not yet.
He
kept leaning closer. He didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he seemed to focus all
the harder upon her.
Her
heart pounding, unable to move away, she braced herself for his assault.
His
lips brushed hers, barely. A gossamer caress.
He
lifted his head.
It
was done.
Ended.
And
it hadn’t even begun.
He
held her chin, appearing so cool, so unaffected. His kiss had seemed to sear
her. An urge to put her fingers to her lips arose in her. She resisted it, for
it would give away too much of how she was affected.
Never show your feelings.
He
traced his thumb along her lower lip, slowly, deliberately, as he studied her
with eyes that now glittered with something powerful and predatory. Heat pooled
in her pelvis, low and spreading even lower.
She
went weak all over, as if she’d lain in a sunny window seat for too long. Her
knees almost buckled. She forced them to lock. To be strong.
It
should not have affected her so profoundly. It had been just a peck—not a true
kiss at all. William had poured out all of his skill upon her and hadn’t
garnered even a tenth of the reaction in her that this man’s peck had.
Ruel
traced her jaw line with his fingertips. Unthinkingly, she leaned in to his
touch.
“
Of
course, once he has kissed her, then it’s his turn to wonder…” His voice
sounded unnaturally loud in her ears. “How will she respond? Will she withdraw,
or can he ignite some hidden fire?”
She
sensed that he was toying with her. She didn’t understand flirtation—why had
she imagined she could carry off this ruse? Was he making advances in order to
have a laugh with Francesca and her simpering friends later? Hurt blossomed in
her chest. She resented him for that. She ought to feel indignant, superior,
uncaring—anything but hurt.
“
Please
don’t make sport of me.”
She
cringed. Was that quavering, pleading voice really hers?
An
infinitesimal pause. “Now, why on earth would I do such a thing?” His voice was
as smooth as velvet.
“
To
please your vanity,” she replied, trying to regain her wits.
“
Here.”
He placed her hand to his chest. The contours of his muscles were hard,
powerfully developed. Even more so than she’d expected. His body heat radiated
through the satin and, beneath her hand, his heart’s beat was rapid and strong.
“
Is
that vanity?” He put a finger under her chin, giving her no choice but to face
him. “Is it?” He gentled his grip.
The
warmth in his voice settled over her like luscious hot chocolate. Melting her
insides to quivering burgoo, rendering her speechless, unable to move.
“
My
dear, lovely Lady Cranfield, I am going kiss you again.”
About Natasha
Blackthorne:
Escape into the past with
intensely erotic, emotionally driven love stories. Natasha Blackthorne writes
character-focused historical erotica romance featuring strong internal
conflicts. Her stories are most frequently about the intimate journey of the
characters as they learn to open their hearts to love.
Her heroines are not
perfect ladies. They are wildflowers and wallflowers who enjoy flirting with
the forbidden. Whether they are bold or shy, her heroines’ strong desires and
deep emotions drive the plot and drive their heroes to the point of no return.
Connect with Natasha Blackthorne:
Please feel free to
"Friend" me on Facebook or subscribe to my public feed.
My Blog
To Purchase A Measured Risk Now Please Click Here:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes & Noble
Giveaway:
Enter to win a $25
Amazon Gift Card. The giveaway is open to all current USA residents who are
aged 18 or older. Please fill out the Rafflecopter below. By entering to win,
you are stating that it is legal for you to enter such contests where you
currently reside. Giveaway ends: 12 AM Eastern Time on June 30, 2014.
Hello Everyone,
Welcome to my book blitz for the .99 sale on A Measured Risk,
Regency Risks Book One.
I am giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card. To enter, please fill out
the Rafflecopter at the end of this post.
On
Sale .99 at Amazon and Barnes & Noble
June
20-22, 2014
A
MEASURED RISK
By
Natasha Blackthorne
Book one in
the Regency Risks Series
He is her
most dangerous temptation, the only man she has ever trusted and now
he is demanding her submission. Dare she take the risk?
Emotionally
scarred in the horrific accident that took her husband’s life,
Lady Cranfield is imprisoned by her lingering terror of horses and
carriages. She longs to be closer to the fascinating Earl of Ruel, as
she senses intuitively that he might be able to teach her how to
overcome the terrors that hold her in bondage.
And now she’s
willing to risk almost anything—her reputation, even her
virtue—to find out.
But what Lord
Ruel proposes startles her.
When the shy,
studious and socially awkward young widow approaches him, Lord Ruel
instantly senses she will be the sweetest, most submissive experience
of his life—but first he must gain her complete trust. Lord
Ruel makes Lady Cranfield a non-negotiable offer: His help in return
for her submission and obedience.
But Lady
Cranfield grew up neglected by her ducal parents, raised by servants
and then later ignored by her handsome, charming husband. She’s
learnt to protect her heart at all costs and she trusts no one but
herself.
How can the jaded Earl of
Ruel break through Lady Cranfield’s self-defences and show her
how to love when he himself has spent his life avoiding that tender
trap?
Erotica Romance ~ Light BDSM ~ Rubenesque / BBW
~ Regency Historical ~ Shy Heroine ~ Novel Length 86,000 Words .
Contains graphic erotic descriptions and frank sexual language. As a
work of historical romance fiction, A
Measured Risk is not intended to be an
accurate portrayal of modern BDSM lifestyles.
Excerpt
from A Measured Risk
©Copyright Natasha Blackthorne 2012, 2013
For Adults 18+ Only
She backed all the way into
the bookcase.
“
Why did you
run away?” His deep voice settled in her belly, rich and warm,
like crème
brûlée on
a cold winter’s night.
“
Because I
wanted you to follow.” She tried to sound sophisticated and
seductive, but her voice choked off on the last word.
Ruel placed his hand on the
shelf above her head and blocked her path to the door. His tall,
solidly muscled body leaned over her, surrounding her with the
sumptuous, sinful scents of tobacco, Scotch whisky and something
masculine and undeniably dangerous. A slow, sensual smile stretched
his hard mouth.
He appeared different.
Softer. More approachable.
At the change, her insides
seemed to flip over.
“
Well,
sweeting, getting us off alone was a very inspired idea.” He
touched one of her fallen ringlets. “I am bored to distraction
with endless talk of hunting and fencing.”
As he slowly wrapped the
curl around two fingers, he brushed her collarbone. Fiery sparks
tingled down her spine, so intense that she shivered and her nipples
beaded, pressing against her stays. By some instinct she hadn’t
even known she possessed, she arched her back, presenting herself for
his assessment.
His eyes shone so vividly
blue against his bronzed face that they resembled cornflowers. She
swallowed tightly and wished for a long drink of claret. This more
personal side of him suddenly seemed far more hazardous than his
usually fierce exterior.
Well, no matter. There was
nothing to fear. She would allow only as much contact as need be to
get to know him a little. Since being torn from her lonely yet secure
life in Ireland and thrust into Society at age sixteen, she’d
spent her time allowing people only as near as was comfortable. She
was an expert at emotional evasion.
It should be easy to regain
her control.
But now, as rays of the
late-afternoon sun played over his pale hair, turning it the colour
of winter wheat, all her carefully rehearsed words flew from her
mind.
Say
something—anything—else he will think you’re a
bird-wit.
An intimate smile, one that
invited her to play, tugged at his mouth.
“
In a situation
like this, alone with a gentleman, it’s perfectly normal for a
lady to feel some apprehension.” His hushed voice, barely
audible above the piano and boisterous singing from down the
corridor, accentuated their isolation. His gaze became so piercing
that she had to lower her eyes.
He brushed his fingertips
over her cheek. “She will invariably ask herself if he will try
to kiss her.”
She jerked her eyes back to
his face. God, he couldn’t mean to—not yet, surely…
Peculiar, heated chills swept over her. She tried to take a step
back, but found her arse flush against the bookshelf.
He leaned closer; so close
that his Scotch-scented breath tickled her face. “And just in
case you are wondering, Lady Cranfield—the answer is most
assuredly yes.”
She should demand that he
put his arm down so she could pass by and leave. She really should.
But she couldn’t stop looking at his hard mouth and wondering
what it would feel like upon hers. He was so close to her that his
breath blew on her lips. If she moved but a fraction, she’d be
kissing him.
Kissing him.
Dear God. Her breaths began
to come very fast and short. Her throat went tight with a suppressed
moan.
His eyes burnt as brightly
as aquamarines. He looked so fierce. If he kissed her, if he dared…
Oh God, it would be so harsh. That cruel-looking mouth could express
itself no other way.
Excitement rushed through
her, sending tingles to every point of her body, even her toes.
But no, he wouldn’t.
Not yet.
He kept leaning closer. He
didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he seemed to focus all the
harder upon her.
Her heart pounding, unable
to move away, she braced herself for his assault.
His lips brushed hers,
barely. A gossamer caress.
He lifted his head.
It was done.
Ended.
And it hadn’t even
begun.
He held her chin, appearing
so cool, so unaffected. His kiss had seemed to sear her. An urge to
put her fingers to her lips arose in her. She resisted it, for it
would give away too much of how she was affected.
Never show your
feelings.
He traced his thumb along
her lower lip, slowly, deliberately, as he studied her with eyes that
now glittered with something powerful and predatory. Heat pooled in
her pelvis, low and spreading even lower.
She went weak all over, as
if she’d lain in a sunny window seat for too long. Her knees
almost buckled. She forced them to lock. To be strong.
It should not have affected
her so profoundly. It had been just a peck—not a true kiss at
all. William had poured out all of his skill upon her and hadn’t
garnered even a tenth of the reaction in her that this man’s
peck had.
Ruel traced her jaw line
with his fingertips. Unthinkingly, she leaned in to his touch.
“
Of course,
once he has kissed her, then it’s his turn to wonder…”
His voice sounded unnaturally loud in her ears. “How will she
respond? Will she withdraw, or can he ignite some hidden fire?”
She sensed that he was
toying with her. She didn’t understand flirtation—why had
she imagined she could carry off this ruse? Was he making advances in
order to have a laugh with Francesca and her simpering friends later?
Hurt blossomed in her chest. She resented him for that. She ought to
feel indignant, superior, uncaring—anything but hurt.
“
Please don’t
make sport of me.”
She cringed. Was that
quavering, pleading voice really hers?
An infinitesimal pause.
“Now, why on earth would I do such a thing?” His voice
was as smooth as velvet.
“
To please your
vanity,” she replied, trying to regain her wits.
“
Here.”
He placed her hand to his chest. The contours of his muscles were
hard, powerfully developed. Even more so than she’d expected.
His body heat radiated through the satin and, beneath her hand, his
heart’s beat was rapid and strong.
“
Is that
vanity?” He put a finger under her chin, giving her no choice
but to face him. “Is it?” He gentled his grip.
The warmth in his voice
settled over her like luscious hot chocolate. Melting her insides to
quivering burgoo, rendering her speechless, unable to move.
“
My dear,
lovely Lady Cranfield, I am going kiss you again.”
About Natasha Blackthorne:
Escape into the past with intensely erotic,
emotionally driven love stories. Natasha Blackthorne writes
character-focused historical erotica romance featuring strong
internal conflicts. Her stories are most frequently about the
intimate journey of the characters as they learn to open their hearts
to love.
Her heroines are not perfect ladies. They are
wildflowers and wallflowers who enjoy flirting with the forbidden.
Whether they are bold or shy, her heroines’ strong desires and
deep emotions drive the plot and drive their heroes to the point of
no return.
Connect with Natasha Blackthorne:
Please feel
free to "Friend" me on Facebook or subscribe to my public
feed.
My Blog
To Purchase A Measured Risk Now Please Click Here:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes & Noble
Giveaway:
Enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card. The
giveaway is open to all current USA residents who are aged 18 or
older. Please fill out the Rafflecopter below. By entering to win,
you are stating that it is legal for you to enter such contests where
you currently reside. Giveaway ends: 12 AM Eastern Time on June 30,
2014.
Link to the Rafflecopter:
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/8361aa84
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