By: Darcy Burke
Released March
15, 2016.
Self-Published
Self-Published
Blurb: Spinster Miss Eleanor
Lockhart is suddenly homeless and employment is her only option. Ruined after
succumbing to a scoundrel’s excessive charm nearly a decade ago, she’s lucky to
obtain a position as a paid companion and committed to behaving with the utmost
propriety. She definitely shouldn’t be in the arms of a man capable of utterly
destroying what little remains of her reputation...
Titus St. John, Duke of Kendal, is known as
the Forbidden Duke, a mysterious, intimidating figure who enters Society just
once each year at his stepmother’s ball. A decade ago, he was a devil-may-care
rake until his idle roguery brought about the ruin of Eleanor Lockhart—and his
resulting self-imposed isolation. Now she’s back, and she needs his help. But
by “saving” her, he may just ruin her life all over again.
Link to Follow Tour: http://www.tastybooktours.com/2016/02/the-forbidden-duke-untouchables-1-by.html
Buy Links: Amazon | B
& N | iTunes | Kobo
Author
Info:
A native
Oregonian, Darcy lives on the edge of wine country with her guitar-strumming
husband, their two hilarious kids-who each seem to have inherited the writing
gene in some form-and two Bengal cats. In her "spare" time Darcy is a
serial volunteer enrolled in a 12-step program where one learns to say
"no," but she keeps having to start over. Her happy places are
Disneyland and Labor Day weekend at the Gorge.
Website:
http://www.darcyburke.com/
Facebook: http://facebook.com/DarcyBurkeFans
Twitter: http://twitter.com/darcyburke
Excerpt
#1:
“We need
to take our place,” he said, guiding her to the dance floor, where Lord and
Lady Satterfield were already in place at the top of the line that was forming.
Kendal positioned Nora to stand beside Lady Satterfield so that they were
second in the line. The musicians, set in the far corner of the makeshift
ballroom, began to play, and panic seized Nora’s chest. Would she remember the
steps? Would she make a fool of herself, or worse, of him?
She felt
like an imposter in a scenario she’d mistakenly stumbled into. Surely someone
would point her out and tell her she needed to leave. She was a pariah, an
outcast. She had no place being here, let alone dancing with a duke.
But it
was far too late to run away. The dance had started, and the line traveled the
length of the drawing room. This dance would last quite some time, during which
Nora would be the center of everyone’s attention and the source of everyone’s
gossip. She could hear the exchanges now, imagined them starting up and
spreading like a freshly-ignited fire.
“Look at who he chose. Who is that Nobody?”
“Don’t you remember? She ruined herself nine
years ago.”
“How dreadful.”
Lord and
Lady Satterfield started, dancing their way between the lines. They were rather
spry, given their age.
Nora
nervously looked over at the duke. “Lady Satterfield is an excellent dancer.”
“Indeed.”
The rich tone of his voice soothed her rioting nerves. “She always insists on
calling the first, though it’s the only set she’ll dance.”
Nora
nodded. Dancing was typically reserved for the young.
She tried
not to stare at her partner, but it was difficult as he was situated directly
across from her and she should look
at him. Look, yes, but not gape. And he was gape-worthy. His reputation suited
him for he seemed forbidden,
otherworldly almost. Not in an ethereal way, but in a rustic, rough sort of
manner, as if Society couldn’t possibly contain him.
Despite
that or perhaps because of it, he wore his costume with ease. However, she
suspected he was more comfortable in riding breeches and boots as he galloped
his horse across the Lake District—she’d ascertained that was where his seat
was located—his powerful thighs hugging the animal’s flanks as they moved as
one.
Goodness,
where had that astonishing image come from?
And then
it was their turn to traverse the line. She prayed she would remember the steps
and focused on the music as they moved toward each other.
“You look
as if you’re headed to the guillotine,” he said just loud enough for her alone
to hear.
“Do I?”
She tried to laugh but was afraid she sounded like a wounded bird. She longed
to ask why he’d chosen her and immediately wondered if Lady Satterfield had put
him up to it. She decided she didn’t want to know.
“It’s
just a dance.”
The
superbly absurd comment coaxed a genuine smile to her lips and alleviated some
of her discomfort. “With the ‘Forbidden Duke’ who only dances once each Season.
Yes, you’re quite right to characterize it that way. Thank you for putting me
at ease.”
He
chuckled, and like his speaking voice, it sparked a tremor that seemed to start
in her bones and move outward making her flesh tingle and her chest warm.
“Don’t be nervous. And certainly don’t be nervous on my account.” He said the
last with a tone so dry, she feared it might curl up and blow away in the
breeze.
“That is
easy for you, a duke, to say. I am just a simple girl who’s been away from
London a long time.”
“I
daresay you aren’t ‘just’ anything.”
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