BOOK BLURB: Captain Robert Ashton, Earl of Darington, knows finding a bride in London will not be easy—not since he has been notoriously dubbed as the “Pirate Earl”. What he didn’t expect was to get abducted—and to have his escape go horribly awry when an innocent lady gets caught in the crossfire.
Amateur physician Emma St. James is on her way to meet her betrothed when she is rescued by an injured gentleman. Despite her shock after discovering he is the Pirate Earl, Emma feels drawn to the man who saved her life. Duty forces them apart, but when they meet again on the high seas, Darington will risk all—his fortune, his name, and even his life to keep her safe.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> RAFFLECOPTER <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
REVIEW: This is the second story in The Daring Marriages series and I must say that this one was as wonderful as the first story. The author continues to build the world around her characters as much as she builds them and this is what keeps drawing me into their stories.
This story is of Robert, Kate’s twin brother [book 1] and I was looking forward to finding out who’ll be the one to catch him. Truly, I was pleasantly surprised that the author has found a perfect match for him. He needed someone as smart and sassy as Emma.
This story is filled with adventure, humor and great characters. Highly recommending it to all but especially to those that love sea adventures.
Melanie for b2b
Gift ARC provided by the publisher
Emma watched in horror as her protector fell to the ground. She raced to him, kneeling in the mud beside him. She lifted his head out of the icy sludge and rested it in her lap. She drew back his greatcoat, searching for injuries. She did not have to go far before she found a large stain of dark-red blood on his waistcoat.
She put a hand to his chest and was relieved to find him still breathing. He appeared to have lost a good deal of blood, and Emma surmised the wound was not fresh. The man was a gentleman by the quality of his clothes. She surmised he must have fallen prey to her vile attackers earlier that day, though how he had come to be entangled with such company and what connection, if any, he had to her step-brother was a question for later. The most pressing need was to save his life.
“Sally, bring the luggage. My medicine kit is inside.” Emma glanced up at Sally, who appeared frozen in place—her eyes wide, her mouth open in horror. “Sally!” Emma repeated, allowing a rare sharpness into her tone. “Bring the luggage immediately.”
Sally blinked. “Yes, miss.” She ran around to the far side of the coach, where the luggage had been tied to the top.
Emma shuddered in the cold of the night. Their attackers’ coach remained on the road, the horses’ breath visible in the pale light of the coach lantern. She needed to get her injured protector inside and somehow drive them all to the next hamlet to get help. To do any of this, she first needed to revive the gentleman.
“Here, miss.” Sally returned with all the luggage, dragging Emma’s large trunk and carrying her own small bandbox.
“Thank you, that is very helpful.” Emma wasted no time in opening her father’s medical bag and finding a vial of smelling salts, waving it under the man’s nose. The man started and opened his eyes with a gasp.
“I am Miss Emma St. James. A pleasure to meet you.”
“I am Dare…” murmured the man, his voice trailing off into something inaudible.
Emma smiled at the man. She was not sure what sort of name ‘Dare’ was, but it did seem an apt description. “I am sorry for the rude manner of your awakening, but you have been injured and we cannot tarry.” Emma spoke plainly and pleasantly, as she had found injured people needed hope and a calm presence.
“Go,” the man croaked. “You need to find safety.”
“I will not leave you.”
“You need to go!” said the man in a stronger voice, his dark eyes blazing with intensity. He had angular features with dark-brown hair tied back in a queue. She might have been afraid had she not been cradling his head in her lap.
“I will not leave you here to die in the road,” said Emma firmly. “What a poor way to repay your kindness. I could never live with myself. So we will either leave together or stay here together.” As she spoke, she grabbed some bandages from her bag and pressed them to his wound, wrapping a bandage around his blood-soaked clothes.
The man inhaled sharply through his teeth as she pressed hard against the wound. “Sorry,” she murmured. “This will stop some of the bleeding, but you need a doctor.”
“Your life is in danger,” the man croaked, rousing himself to a seated position beside her.
“My life? Did my brother send these men to kill me?” Emma gasped.
“Your brother? No, those men are after me.”
“After you? But why would my brother be after you?”
They stared at each other, his eyes mirroring the confusion she felt.
“Can we l-leave n-now?” asked a shivering Sally through chattering teeth.
“Yes, let us get Mr. Dare to his feet. If we can get him to the carriage, I can attempt to drive us to safety.”
Between the two of them and the man’s own efforts, they were able to raise him to his feet. He was a tall man, muscular but thin, which was fortunate in getting him back upright.
“Let us get you to the coach and—”
The man lying near them let out a long, low groan. At the same time, a man cried out from the coach with a string of curses. “That bastard stuck me. Help! I’m bleeding like a stuck pig. Where are you lubbers?”
Emma’s heart pounded in her throat. There was another man in the coach. The man in black, the one she thought her rescuer had shot dead, also groaned and moved on the ground. Sally let out a short shriek that was silenced by Dare, who clamped a hand over her mouth. He looked back at the hedgerows. Emma nodded in understanding. Crouching to avoid being seen, they crept off the road and into the bushes.
AUTHOR BIO: Amanda Forester holds a PhD in psychology and worked many years in academia before discovering that writing historical romance was way more fun.
After trying for many years to stop the internal storylines floating around her head, she finally gave up and wrote one down. Now when she is caught daydreaming and talking to herself she can just say, “I’m plotting a scene for my next novel,” which sounds so much better than, “I’m hallucinating and responding to internal stimuli.”
Amanda lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family, three lazy house pets and one destructive puppy who is part yellow lab part tornado.
Amanda enjoys writing historical romance and splits her time between the rugged Highlands of medieval Scotland and the lively banter within the drawing rooms of Regency England. She enjoys researching the history almost as much as the writing, and attempts to provide the reader with a glimpse of the historical reality, though usually without the fleas. She enjoys sharing her passion for romance and history and loves hearing from readers.