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A Victorian Steampunk/Paranormal adventure with strong elements of romance...
Lady Lily d'Bulier is prim, proper, and prefers to think of herself as pragmatic rather than timid. And avoiding life-threatening situations at all costs is just plain practical. But everything changes when Lord Adair tracks her down in London; searching for answers he seems to think she has.
Greyston Adair is a blackguard and a smuggler, although British Customs will have to catch him red-handed to prove the latter. Fortunately, the dirigibles they float around in have never been able to get near his air dust.
Hell is rising, One Demon at a Time...
With Lady Ostrich hunting them, and the mystery of how their lives tie back to Cragloden Castle and the powerful McAllister clan, Lily has no option but to throw propriety to the wind and run off with Greyston to Scotland, away from the immediate danger and toward possible answers.
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She glanced across to find him staring out of his window.
In profile, silky brown hair stroked the hollow below his cheekbone and his clenched jaw formed a rigid line. His trousers were a dark grey, matched with a waistcoat worn over a crisp white shirt. Broad shoulders filled a meticulously tailored jacket that was left unbuttoned. He’d crossed one leg over the other and rested an elbow on the door ledge.
He looked every inch the well-groomed gentleman who’d been admitted to Lady Cheshire’s Mummy ball.
Every inch the heart-stopping Lord Dashing.
Her gaze settled on the ruined neck cloth and loose ties hanging down his front. A blush heated her throat as she recalled the unfamiliar hardness of lean muscle and his particular scent of pine forest and ash and something altogether male. She’d danced her share of waltzes, but this took intimacy to an entirely new extreme.
He brought his attention from outside to meet her brazen stare with a quirked brow. “At least you haven’t leapt to your death yet.”
The heat drained from her skin. Lily lowered her eyes, clasping her fingers in her lap to hide the trembling.
I’m not dead.
She lifted her gaze to him. “What do you want with me, Lord Adair?”
The ghost of that exact question, asked as she’d served him tea in her drawing room, answered. I knew Lady d’Bulier. Lily held her breath.
Lord Adair grimaced. “I knew your mother, Lady d’Bulier.”
She let that breath out on a trembling sigh. “You mentioned something about keeping me safe. From what?”
In response, he half-rose and rapped hard up against the roof with his fist. A moment later, the carriage drew to a halt in a clearing alongside the road.
Lily’s hand quickly went to the door handle on her side. She hesitated. There was no urge to run for her life. She was more afraid of her memories, of what might or might not be real, than of Lord Adair.
When Lord Adair alighted and offered her a hand, she shifted along the seat and allowed him to help her out. Neither of them wore gloves. Skin touched skin as she stepped from the carriage.
One more intimate social transgression; she was beginning to lose count.
She slid her hand from his as soon as her feet touched the ground. Her slippers were no protection from the mulch of fallen leaves and damp soil as she walked beneath a cluster of trees.
She spun about, determined to get some answers, but her gaze stalled on the large man in the driver’s box. “He’s the celludrone,” she gasped. “He’s the one who fought that woman.”
She’d only caught snatches of him before Lord Adair had pushed her out of sight behind the settee. The aftermath, however, was burned into her skull. This man, and Ana, torn apart at their seams, nothing left but mechanical pieces strewn across her drawing room. Dear Lord, had these spells she suffered from evolved into some type of visionary premonition? Had she witnessed her imminent death?
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Claire Robyns lives in Berkshire, England, with her husband and twin boys. For so long as she has memories, she was either reading, dreaming about reading, or planning what she'd be reading next. Then one day she started dreaming about writing and that was the beginning of an amazing journey.
When Claire isn't thigh-deep in laundry, shopping, cooking and general crowd control, you'll find her head-and-heart-deep in the tangled lives of her characters.
Visit Claire at her website www.clairerobyns.com or on twitter @clairerobyns or on facebook www.facebook.com/clairerobyns