We're always thrilled to have the lovely Sabrina York by for a visit. It's been too long since we last chatted, but Her Royal Hotness has been one busy author! I know many of you have been waiting impatiently for Book Five in the Noble Passions series. Well, Darlings, the wait is over! Sabrina stopped by to talk about the series and share a HOT excerpt from Defiant.
About
Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York is the award winning author of over 20 hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy
readers. Her titles range
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DEFIANT, by Sabrina York
Noble Passions, Book Five
When rakish Ned falls in with the wrong crowd, his
brother decides to send him to the Continent for “seasoning”. For Sophia, this
just won’t do. She’s loved Ned for ages—and also longed for adventure. She runs
away from her boring suitors and disguises herself as a cabin boy on the Defiant,
the ship sailing Ned to Italy.
Ned knows he’s not good enough for Sophia, but once
they’re on the Defiant, he can’t stop himself from touching her,
tasting her, loving her. Not when a wild tempest and a band of ruthless pirates
threaten them. Not when every look from her gives him such pleasure. And
certainly not when she comes, warm and wild and willing, to his bed.
If they survive their voyage, Sophia’s brother might
kill him, but it will have been worth every moment and every hot, sweet kiss.
A Romantica® Regency
historical erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
Get it now from Ellora's Cave or Amazon
READ
AN EXCERPT
Sophia
stood on the bow of the boat in the dark as the wind and rain lashed her face.
She loved it. Loved it. Not only was the storm elemental and fierce, it hid her
tears.
Surely
she hadn’t expected Ned to greet her with open arms. Not when she had barged in
on his adventure as she had. But she certainly hadn’t expected him to be so
horrid. His expression had devastated her.
Foolish girl, it said.
But
then, her heart agreed.
She
was foolish.
Foolish
to ever think that he—
“You’re
soaked.”
She
whirled around, though she knew what she’d see. More glowering.
She
was right.
“What
the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m
reveling.” She thrust out her chin, in case he didn’t believe her.
He
gaped at her. “Reveling?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t mean to shout, but his wintry demeanor annoyed her tremendously. She
threw out her arms. “Look at this!”
“It’s
a storm.”
“It’s
beautiful. The waves are wild, untamed—”
“You
could be swept overboard.”
“The
wind is howling and the rain is savage. It’s glorious.”
“It’s
freezing. Come inside.”
“It’s
not freezing. It’s summer.”
“I’m cold.”
“Then
you go inside.”
“Sophia
Fiona—”
“Don’t
call me that.”
“It’s
your name.”
“You
sound like Ewan.”
“I’m
starting to think Ewan is a saint.”
She
glared at him. “What a beastly thing to say.” She hated that her chin wobbled a
little. Hated that he winced.
“I’m
sorry, Sophia. This has been trying for me.” He sluiced the water from his
face. “Won’t you please come inside?”
“All
right. Fine.”
“You
will?”
“You
did say please.”
He
blew out a breath and offered her his arm. She frowned at it. “I’m a cabin boy,
remember? You don’t offer a cabin boy your arm.” When he didn’t lower it, she
smacked it. “Someone will see.”
That
caught his attention and he slowly lowered his arm. “Right then. Come inside.”
He followed her back to the cabin, his stride decidedly unsteady. If anyone was
tipping overboard, it was most likely him.
When
she once again stood in his chambers, she realized the folly of her actions.
She hadn’t brought a change of clothes and she was drenched. So was he. Without
a word, he relit the lamp and then opened his trunk and pulled out several
shirts, two of which he tossed to her. “Change.”
That
was it. One word. Just “change” and then he presented her with his back. She
huffed a breath, but did as he asked because she was really rather cold. The
feel of the cloth falling over her chilled flesh warmed her. Because it was his
shirt. It had touched his skin. She wasn’t sure why the thought sent heat
scudding through her belly.
“Use
the other shirt to dry your hair,” he suggested, as he began toweling off as
well.
She
huffed a laugh. “All of your clothes will be wet.”
“They’ll
dry. Are you clothed?”
“Yes.”
He
turned. And froze. His gaze locked onto her bare legs. “I-I thought you said
you were clothed.” A squawk.
“I
am.” But the intensity of his stare made her self-conscious, so she slipped
into the bed.
“Close
your eyes,” he said as he unbuttoned the damp linen clinging to his chest.
“Why?”
“I
need to change as well. I’m f-freezing.”
“Okay.”
She did. But she peeked.
He
ripped off his wet shirt and her breath caught at the sight of his broad back.
Muscles rippled as he moved and she swallowed. He was beautiful. He tugged the
fresh shirt over his head and she nearly whimpered as that magnificent vision
disappeared. But then, he unfastened his trousers.
All
pretense of not peeking evaporated.
He
sat and took a moment to work off his boots. And then he stood. His trousers
were tight, as was the fashion, and he had to peel them off. As he bent, she
caught a flash of his bare behind.
She
must have made a noise because he whirled around. His cheek bunched when he saw
her watching. “You’re supposed to have your eyes closed.”
She
hunkered in the covers, as though that would disguise the fact that her eyes
were open wide.
“Sophia…”
It
was probably wrong to grin at him, but she couldn’t help it.
“Sophia
Fiona!”
“Stop
calling me that. It always makes me think I’m in trouble.”
“You
are in trouble. You have no idea how
much trouble you’re in.”
She
tipped her head to the side. “We both know Ewan will be so relieved to see me,
he’ll forget how angry he is—”
Ned
stilled and fixed her with a dark glare. “What makes you think I’m talking
about Ewan?”
“I…
ah…”
“I’ve
a mind to bend you over my knee.”
Why
a shiver rippled through her, she had no idea. She’d been spanked once or twice
as a child and she hadn’t cared for it in the slightest. But something dark and
domineering in Ned’s tone made her womb warm.
“You-you
wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t
I? Now, look away. Your brother would skewer me if I gave you the education
you’re about to have.”
She
attempted not to snort. Ned—and everyone—thought her a prim and innocent miss
on account of the polish she’d acquired at Lady Satterlee’s. Nothing could be
further from the truth. As a child, before Ewan had made his fortune, they’d
lived a hand-to-mouth existence in the slums of Perth. She’d seen more than one
couple rutting against a wall in a dingy alleyway. And at one point, she and
her brother had taken refuge in a bordello. She’d been only seven, but if she’d
had an education, she got it there. She could probably teach Ned a few things.
Still,
because he seemed to expect it, she squeezed her eyes tight and didn’t hardly
peek at all as he finished changing. Besides which, the spot she was interested
in was mostly shadows.
With
a great huff, he threw himself back into the chair. “Now, go to sleep.”
“Don’t
you want me to put out the light?”
“No.
I want to be able to see where you are.”
“I’m
not leaving again tonight.” Probably. Unless her despair overcame her once
more.
“Leave
it on.” A grunt, and not a very nice one at that. Why he had call to be
annoyed, she couldn’t fathom.
Blast
and damn, he was an annoying man. Sophia grunted as well and rolled over,
facing the wall of the cabin. She studied the patterns the swinging lamp made
for a long while, listening as he shifted one way and then the other.
It
was really unfair for him to have to sleep in the chair. This was his room. But
he would never share her bed. She grimaced at the way the words came out, but
it was true. He wouldn’t. Unless…
She
rolled over again and watched him twist in the chair. He caught her eye and
frowned.
“Ned?”
An
impatient groan. “Yes, Sophia?”
“Ned,
I’m cold.”
He
stilled. Then barked, “Put on another blanket.”
“There
aren’t any more.” She faked a shiver. She wasn’t cold in the slightest. She
never was. Ewan said she ran hot. “Brr. My teeth are chattering.”
His
glower became a frown.
“I
hope I don’t get ill.”
He
paled. “You shouldn’t have gone out in the rain. Why did you go out in the
rain?”
She
sneezed. Or something like it. “I don’t know.”
“Sophia?”
“Am
I running a fever?” She put her palm to her forehead. “I think I’m running a
fever.”
His
brow wrinkled. He stood and made his way across the tiny chamber as though on
his death march. He set the backs of his fingers to her cheeks. His frown
darkened. “You are warm.”
“No.
I’m cold.” She shivered and peered up at him, her eyes as wide as she could make
them. “Won’t you warm me?”
He
wrenched his hand away as though she’d burned him. “What?”
“Lie
here beside me and warm me up?”
“There’s
not enough room for both of us.”
“I’m
small.”
“Sophia.”
She’d never heard her name in such a strangled voice, not even when Ewan was at
his wit’s end.
“Just
for a bit? You can be on top of the covers. Surely that is decent.”
The
muscle in his cheek bunched again, as though he were grinding his teeth.
“Please?”
He
gusted a sigh. “All right, Sophia. Scoot over and make room.”
She
did. With alacrity.
“And
roll over, facing the wall.”
She
frowned at him “Why?”
“Just
do it. Please.”
“Oh,
all right.” But only because he said please. And because, when she was facing
the other way, he couldn’t see her grin.
He
settled in behind her and a shiver rocked her. He was warm. And he smelled
delicious. Not fishy in the slightest. It was delightful, lying here with him.
She closed her eyes and imagined he wanted this as much as she.
If
only. If only.
Check
out the other books in the Noble Passions Series from Sabrina York
Follow the decadent
exploits of friends and enemies as they find love and passion in the glittering
world of the Regency—and its dark underbelly.
2014
EPIC eBook Award Finalist2013 Passionate Plume Finalist
Widowed and threatened with penury by her heartless in-laws, Eleanor--Lady Ulster--hatches a plot to save herself. Determined to produce the Ulster "heir", she seduces a stranger at a tawdry masquerade. Little does she know, this magnificent masked lover is none other than her husband's greatest nemesis. And God knows Ulster had plenty.
Ethan Pennington is mortified to arrive at a house party and discover Lady Ulster in attendance. He has wanted her and hated wanting her--his enemy's bride--for years. When he overhears Eleanor's predicament and her plans to place a cuckoo in the Ulster nest, he is more than willing to oblige. The opportunity to finally claim her--while taking the revenge he craves--is more than he can resist. Ethan strikes a bargain with Eleanor, promising to provide her with the heir she so desperately needs...if she will meet his needs in return. Every decadent one of them.
The
sizzling prequel to Folly
2014
Winner of the Carolyn Readers’ Choice Award
When Lady Helena Simpson
flees an unwanted marriage to a revolting lord, she finds refuge with James, a
charming, handsome man unlike any she’s ever known. Helena concocts the perfect
solution to her problem. She asks—begs—James to ruin her. Surely her betrothed
will repudiate her if she is no longer pure. And if all her efforts fail and
she still ends up married to a horrid man until the end of her days, she will
at least once have known true passion.
But James is not all he
seems. He is, in fact, a wicked lord with a dark fancy. When Helena awakens his
desire, he becomes determined to take everything she has to offer and more. No
matter the cost.
Edward Wyeth, the Dark
Duke of Moncrieff’s life has been turned on its end. His well-ordered home has
been invaded. By destitute relatives. From Scotland. How on earth can he write
Lord Hedon’s salacious novels with hellions battling in the garden and starting
fires in the library? But with the onslaught has come a delicious diversion.
His cousin’s companion, the surprisingly intriguing Kaitlin MacAllister. He is
determined to seduce her. Using her desperate need for funds and her talents as
an artist, he convinces her to draw naughty pictures for his naughtier
books…and he draws her into his decadent web.
But Kaitlin has a secret.
She’s fled Scotland—and a very determined betrothed. When Edward’s cousin is
kidnapped and held in her stead, Kaitlin is honor-bound to return to her
homeland and rescue her—much to Edward’s chagrin.
Because suddenly he can’t
bear the thought of Kaitlin marrying another man. He can’t bear the thought of
losing her at all.
Kidnapped and held
prisoner by menacing Scottish brigand, the notorious McCloud, Violet Wyeth does
her best to persevere…and resist his rakish charms. But when she realizes The
McCloud is really Ewan St. Andrews, the boy who once saved her life, the boy
who once kissed her and made her heart flutter, she is lost.
Ewan has every intention
of marrying Lady Kaitlin MacAllister. He desperately needs the entrée into the ton this bride can provide. But when his
bride is delivered—bound and gagged—it’s not Kaitlin. It’s Violet Wyeth—the
girl who betrayed him and ruined his life when he was a boy. He keeps her,
determined to punish her for her sins. But when he discovers the truth about
what really happened so long ago, and seething passion rises between them, he
can no longer hold on to his rusty grudge. By the time he realizes how much he
loves Violet—that he always has—he’s lost her.
All he can do is follow
her. Follow her into the bowels of hell—and partake in the torment of the
glittering London Season, where the harpies are far more dangerous than a
Scottish brigand.
♥
Thanks so much for stopping by Sabrina! Come back any time ♥
Gabrielle,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for letting me stop by and share my latest release!!
We love having you here, Sabrina! ♥
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