Star Attraction

Sorcha MacMurrough

College lecturer and secret romance novelist Zaira Darcy literally bumps into the man of her dreams in an elevator. Dashing Brad Clarke, Hollywood’s hottest new director, working alongside her in New York on the screenplay of her hot new bestseller, is everything she could want in a man, and more.

But the secrets from her past threaten to destroy any chance of happiness they might have. Zaira must learn to trust to love again. Just when Zaira and Brad find true love, her joy is ripped from her by a series of shocking revelations. Brad is forced to go on the run for a series of crimes he didn’t commit. Can Zaira trust him? Or is someone behind this plot to ruin him?

Zaira searches her heart for the truth, and must lock horns with her ex-husband Jonathan one last time to save Brad’s life, even if it means sacrificing her own…

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Star Attraction by Sorcha MacMurrough
66,000 words
Setting: Modern, New York and LA
Some suspense elements.
Rating: Fairly sensual

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CHAPTER ONE

Zaira Darcy raced across the foyer of the main university building. The first day of a new term, and she was already running around like a mad woman, she reflected ruefully. She saw one of the elevator doors about to close, and decided recklessly to sprint for it.

But Zaira hadn’t calculated on another like-minded person charging for it as well. The collision knocked the wind out of her. Zaira’s books and lecture notes went flying in every direction. It was only due to the presence of mind of the tall figure, who grabbed her by the elbows, that she wasn’t sent sprawling herself.

“Damn, I’m sorry, look what I’ve done,” he drawled in a West Coast accent, as he pulled her up and steadied her.

Zaira was so awestruck by the presence and physical beauty of the man that she could only gaze up at him mutely. Emerald green eyes caressed her own grey ones intimately before he eased her down onto one of the benches and went to retrieve her property.

She sat gazing at the muscular back as it rippled through the black and purple UCLA sweatshirt he wore. She took in his long virile legs encased in black jeans. His hair was dark brown with intriguing reddish flashes, and curled softly at the nape of his neck. As he reached out, she saw the hands were strong and capable-looking, with each large enough to hold both of her own at the same time. He knelt by her gathering papers, and finally looked up into her face.

Zaira grew embarrassed as her gaze lingered, but she could not take her eyes away from his twinkling green ones. The rest of his face was breath-taking as well. His lashes swept lushly over his fine deeply tanned cheekbones as he blinked, and his lips were full. Just right for smiling, or kissing, Zaira thought suddenly, and for a moment she thought her theory was about to be proven, for he moved upwards, and his mouth came within a few inches of hers.

“I think I’ve got everything here, and I’m really sorry. I’d heard New Yorkers were always in a hurry, but I guess I found out the hard way,” he said with a grin. “And now I’ve probably made you late on top of everything else,” he added apologetically as he tried to sort her papers into some kind of order.

“No, not really,” she heard herself lie, and wondered way her voice sounded so strange. “I was just making a bet with myself that I could get on that elevator, and I probably would have if we hadn’t bumped into each other.”

Then she realized what she had said, and they both laughed.

“Well, you’re pretty much the first person I’ve spoken to since I got here yesterday, so I’m sorry again, and it’s been a pleasure to meet you.” His voice lingered on the word “pleasure.”

Zaira felt herself blush as the green eyes took her in from top to toe. She had felt very professional-looking in her grey pinstripe suit with her auburn hair tightly pinned into a demure chignon and her spectacles perched on the end of her nose, but under this alluring Californian’s scrutiny she felt stark-naked.

“Don’t let me keep you,” Zaira asserted rather coldly, as she lifted the pile of books from the bench and held out her other hand for her papers.

“You’re not,” he said with a smile, as he walked towards the lift, still holding her papers.

Zaira had no choice but to follow, and as they stood in silence waiting for the elevator, she noticed him looking at the titles of some of her books.

“Political Shakespeare? Drama within Drama? Never heard of them. How could Shakespeare be political? It’s only literature, isn’t it?” he said, sounding mildly interested but rather condescending. “Is that what they make you students read at this university?”

“No one makes me read it, I make my students read it, and no, Shakespeare is not simply literature but an historical and a political document. All literature is solidly based on the concerns of the society in which it is produced, like male/female relationships, relationships between the classes, and other big political issues. Shakespeare would have never been successful on the stage or in print when the book of his plays was first published unless he’d been writing about things people were genuinely concerned about. All writing needs to appeal to people’s concerns, or else it won’t be successful except as the most light-weight of entertainments.”

“Like films?” the infuriatingly handsome stranger asked her as the elevator door pinged open and they stepped inside.

“Films can address many serious concerns, and there are of course excellent adaptations of Shakespeare, but unless it speaks to the audience in a new way, it won’t endure. Films too are a product of the society and culture that produce them. French films, for example, are very different from English, Russian or American films, aren’t they?”

“They sure are,” the stranger replied with a smile, watching her intently.

“Many of the best films are taken from novels, so obviously something appeals to the film-makers in these stories. They take it on trust that their audience will feel the same way, and therefore pay to see the film. But it isn’t merely entertainment, is it? It’s a huge money-making venture on the one hand, at its most basic level, but also in some cases even propaganda, making the public see the image the director and the cinematographer want us to see. It’s not true to life. If it were, they’d be making documentaries. So there’s another level of art added to what is already artistic, and another level of politics to something which is already political,” Zaira explained patiently, warming to her subject, as well as her audience.

They reached the tenth floor, and Zaira suddenly realized she was going to be dreadfully late if she didn’t get rid of him soon. “We’re on ten,” she said. “You aren’t lost, are you?”

“I, um, no,” he said, with a blink and shake of his head. “I’m going to Room 1012.”

“Right, well, it’s this way, the door next to mine,” Zaira said, leading him down the corridor. “You must be doing that new film studies course Brad Clarke is giving this term. I must admit I’ve never liked any of his films, but of course it’s a matter of taste.”

The tall dark stranger hesitated for a moment in the corridor, and handed her back her papers abruptly. “Here you are, I’d better give you these, or your students will get even more of the nonsense you’ve just been talking off the top of your head,” he sneered, before continuing down the corridor on his own.

Zaira was astonished by his rudeness; he’d seemed so friendly, and genuinely interested in the things she’d been saying. She followed him and saw to her dismay that several reporters and students had gathered outside Room 1012, and were now taking photos of the gorgeous stranger.

Oh no! she groaned inwardly. Of all the people in the universe she could have bumped into and insulted! Brad Clarke, Hollywood’s hottest new director, famous for his pride, arrogance and temper. Brad Clarke, famous for his womanizing, flamboyant lifestyle, and vast wealth. Brad Clarke, the man who was coming to see her tomorrow to discuss the novel she had written with a view to buying the movie rights!

Reflecting that she couldn’t mend any fences now, since she was already very late for class, Zaira hastily trotted into her lecture hall and began to apologize, introduce herself, and go over the book list all in one breath.

1.0 out of 5 stars A foolish muddle from end to end

This book is a complete slapdash, with none of the verve of quality Regencies.

First of all the book is riddled with errors-they are Simon’s half-not his stepsisters. They are clearly related to him, though he treats the girls, and especially the eternally barfing baby, as some rare species of insect. He has as much personality as one of his fine neck cloths.

I can’t imagine him being a rake-he is so full of himself, leers at every pair of breasts in sight, and is so meticulously dressed all the time that one would doubt he would ever do anything so undiginfied as sweat, let alone copulate.

Also, vis a vis the errors in the book, I am sure he does not go around showing his ‘labels’ all over the place-I am sure the author meant lapels.

As for the heroine, well, what can I say-the crippled heroine left on the shelf and rescued by the rake has been done to death, and done far better elsewhere.

The endless tantrums, dullness of the settings-a room with tall windows, a study, well gee, where is the sumptuous language we expect from a well-written book, are all too dull for words. The endless stream of vomit from the endlessly barfing baby is also unbearbale, not at all funny.

In fact, I really wonder what people find so amusing or even romantic about adultery and the social mores that allow men to treat women as little better than chattel. Where marriages of convenience are usually only convenient for the men, who do whatever they like and treat women like doormats.

Jane Austen was highly witty and amusing, but she dealt with the real world and issues too. This is just foolishness, selfishness and hypocrisy.

The supposed heroine traps him into marriage to get hold of his sisters as children. He insists he wants to bed her and give her a bottle of an abortifacient just in case because he doesn’t want kids and just in case the ‘sheath fails’. Revolting, not romantic.

As if all of this is not repellent enough, what on earth was the author thinking having THREE couples in the book if we include Rees the composer and his estranged wife. I know they are all out for trilogies and sequels these days because that’s how they make money, but every single book is supposed to be a standalone romance. And if the couple haven’t got enough meat to sustain us through the entire book, then the author is definitely falling down on the job.

Going back to the other plots, Esme’s story is more interesting than the others, including the main plot, but I was really disgusted with the way Simon actually sexually responds to her when her pregnant belly comes into contact with his body. And she is an adulteress, not matter how you tryo to dress it up as ‘romance’. It is just not consistent with the time period.

I also was appalled at the way that her hero lusts after all the other women quite openly-there is little focus on Henrietta apart from her pretty hair and nice smile. Really gross. I have no idea how the characters fall in love with each other, when they hardly know each other. And no woman in her right mind would wnat to know Simon.

I have to admit I read the books in the wrong order, Wild Pursuit and then Fool for Love. If you have not read this one, you will not care less about Wild Pursuit’s couple, and again, Rees and his wife. And the final resolution to Esme’s problems is in that book, but not really a problem at all, so there is little or no dramatic tension in any of the books.

All of these peoole are so selfish and care so little about Regency society with its strict dictates (yes it does seem a lot more Georgian than Regency in many respects, 18th century, as one reviewer said) that nothing is at stake for any of the couples-they thrive on scandal rather than avoid it.

The author set up the next books in her series, but failed miserably to write a single book in the series which we could classify as romance.

A romance is a hero and heroine falling in love. This is not a romance. Nor are the others.

Romeo and Juliet is a classic tale of star crossed lovers because events outside themselves stop them from being together as they would wish. These characters ride roughshod over everything, so there is no suspense or tension, just endless bad baby jokes.

790 words

The Druid’s Woman
Shanna Murchison
Fantasy Romance
Setting: Ireland, 1169

In this fantasy novella of Ireland, Davnat encounters Parthalann, a mysterious druid who trains her to be his helper and consort.

But despite all the other-worldly powers Davnat is given by her mysterious new companion, and the remarkable love that blossoms between them, she can’t help feel that fickle Fortune will rob her of the gift of Parthalann’s love as suddenly as it was bestowed.

Parthalann loves Davnat beyond anything he ever imagined possible. He longs for a happy life with her forever, but deep in his heart, he knows that due to one act of rebellion against the gods, their Fates have already been decreed….

 

Excerpt from Chapter 3 of The Druid’s Woman:

As Parthalann tied the end of his waterskin closed and made to rise, a twig snapped behind him.

Parthalann turned to face his enemy. He forced himself to relax as the powerful unseen force slammed him into a tree. Invisible hands and feet beat and kicked at him unmercifully. He did his best to ward off the blows, moving forward into them. A few hard cracks to his ribs winded him. But with a massive thrust of his fists, he focused his mind, and at last the invisible forces dispelled.

A mysterious grey light shimmering in front of him at last took shape.

“So you’ve done it then. You’ve set the wheel in motion,” the newcomer hissed.

He was nearly as tall as Parthalann himself, with a shaven head and long grey beard plaited into two. His long nails stretched out like talons as he pointed his hand accusingly in Parthalann’s face.

Parthalann took a deep breath and wheezed, “You knew I would one day. Though I have to admit, I didn’t even know it was time until the other day.”

“It still isn’t too late to change your mind, you know. You have the woman, but you haven’t joined with her yet. Or, if you do join with her here and now in this wood, you don’t have to win her over to the druids’ ways….”

The Druid’s Woman
Shanna Murchison
Fantasy Romance Novella
Setting: Ireland, 1169
Word count=33,000
Rating: Moderately Sensual


The Druid’s Woman
Shanna Murchison

 

Reviews:

Detra Fitch of Huntress Book Reviews

An author to keep an eye on!

Set in Ireland. Davnat Ni Cinnede was to marry a Norman for peace. During her betrothal feast, however, appeared Parthalann. Their Fates had been decided long ago by the Gods. The betrothal feast blazed with fire and blood as they fled.

Parthalann had been a Druid, but decided to choose the path of a Warrior. He was to train Davnat in the Druid ways. She already knew healing from wise women and had learned to fight as a warrior all her life. Davnat and Parthalann were to have only a short time together, but their love would last forever and their sons would some day change the world!

*** A great plot…. The tale was fantastic and the author shows much talent! Shanna Murchison is an author to keep an eye on!

From Amazon and Barnes and Noble

Top #20 bestselling e book, January 2001-May 2001

#6 bestselling e book in Rocket format June 2001-October 2001

An amazing book

Excellent writing, fascinating characters, this book had me begging for more. Fantasy writing at its best.

Breathtaking

A wonderful book from beginning to end. You will love the hero and heroine, and all the mystery and fantasy elements. I never wanted it to end.

WOW!

Awesome! An excellent read, lots of suspense and mystery.

A lovely book-perfect for St. Patrick’s day, or any time!

A great book-suspenseful, romantic, magical.

A beautiful book

The author creates a magical world that draws you in from the very first word. It is not the traditional fantasy romance, but that makes it better in my opinion. I was fascinated by the detail given in a short space, and am delighted to see that there is more from this extremely talented author, with these characters, who became like part of my family as I followed their adventures.

A wonderful read!

My only complaint is that I never wanted it to end. Fantastic characters, and plenty of mystery, suspense, and fantasy elements make this one to remember. I must get The Wizard Woman by the same author.

A beautiful book

This was not what I expected from a romance, since it does not have what you would call the traditional romance ending {no spoilers here, readers, sorry} but it was a lovely read for people who are looking for something that little bit different.

As a fantasy novel it was superb, pure magic. A wonderful hero to die for, and a terrific heroine make this book hard to beat. I am already part of the way through The Wizard Woman, which is linked to this novel, and it is awesome too.

Perfect for St. Patrick’ s Day

If you love Ireland, you will adore this book. My only problem with the book is thatI never wanted it to end. When it did, I really cried. One thing is for sure, this author has a wonderful talent.

Awesome!

I am still shaking after reading this book-what power. It took me completely by surprise, from start to finish. I only wish it could have gone on longer!

Pure magic

A super book–great setting and characters, very mysterious, very sad in sections. Get out the tissues and indulge yourself. You won’t be sorry.

Gripping

This novel really was nothing like I expected. It was so excellent, I wish there were a lot more like it. From the very first word, I was caught up in Ireland in the time of the Norman invasion, and the whole mystery of why the hero had come for the heroine.

I cried in some spots as hard as if the characters were real people. The ending was fascinating, one I did not predict. This should get ten stars! I hope this author has plenty more for us to read.

A superb novel of love and loss

It was so romantic, and so sad. I was completely swept away by the characters and the magic of the whole book. I am really relieved to see, that the author has a second novel. This was really excellent.

Fantastic!

This book had it all, a great plot, setting, characters, magic. I adored the hero, and the whole history of Ireland. I can’t wait to read more from this terrific author.

Loved it, a beautiful story

This gets a ten Kleenex rating-It was so lovely, I can highly recommend this to anyone who loves fantasy, and a sensual love story.

Fantastic!

Not like anything I have read before. It was really intelligent, magical, and above all really thrilling. I won’t give the ending away, except to say that I have seldom been so moved. This author has a rare talent with words.

An excellent novella

A quick read, but with lots of echoes which will leave you thinking about it long after you have read it.

I have gone back to re-read it a second time more slowly to really enjoy the fine language and characters. Anyone who loves fantasy or romance, or Ireland, will love this book. A very surprising ending–not one I expected at all, but perfect for the book.

The Druid’s Woman
Shanna Murchison
Fantasy Romance Novella
Setting: Ireland, 1169
Word count=33,000
Rating: Moderately Sensual


 



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The Mad Mistress
A Rakehell Regency Novel
Sorcha MacMurrough
Regency England, 1812

A Desperate Gamble … on Love!

Wealthy heiress Vanessa Hawkesworth is offered as the stake in a card game by her half-brother Gerald in order to cover his gambling debts.

Clifford Stone, their nearest neighbor, only agrees to play for her hand in marriage in order to free her from Gerald’s excesses. Clifford is fascinated by the lovely if unworldly young bluestocking.

As his attraction grows, so too does his certainty that his new-found love is in increasing danger from malevolent forces who will stop at nothing, not even murder, to seize her newly-acquired fortune.

Vanessa must learn to trust a complete stranger with her heart, and her entire life. Stunned at her new fiance’s accusations against Gerald, she is sure she is going mad, torn between loyalty to her family and the wildfire passion that flares every time Clifford touches her.

As new a series of crimes in the district threatens her new-found love and happiness, Vanessa must gamble all herself in order to protect her beloved Clifford, and bring the men responsible to justice before it’s too late.

Prologue

Somerset, August 1802

It was an idyllic summer’s afternoon. The cerulean sky was cloudless, the birds twittered in the trees, and a cool breeze wafted though the ornate gardens behind the lovely red brick Elizabethan manor house.

It was a perfect day for a visit to the elegant maze which had been planted at the same time the mansion had been built. The dense box hedges were now over thirty feet high, and offered a great deal of shade from the beating sun. It was also the ideal place to play hide and seek, and sit and read fairy tales on one of the many marble benches within.

The tall russet-haired woman clad in a flowing blue dress to match her eyes called cheerfully, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

A twig snapped behind her, and she turned with a welcoming smile. The smile became a round O of dismay. She stepped backwards, clutching her rounding belly protectively. “What are you doing here?”

“Just here for a little visit.”

“We thought you were in Town. To what do we owe the pleasure?” she asked, forcing herself to be polite, though she wanted to do nothing more than flee.

“I heard your news from a friend. Thought I would offer you congratulations, you trollop.”

She had always been fearful of this bizarre stranger in their midst whom she had tolerated for so many years for her husband’s sake. Now something especially wild in his sharply handsome face as well as his scathing words betrayed his true nature at last.

She tried to stride past him as if continuing the game. “Darling, come out now. It’s my turn to hide,” she called.

Rough hands grabbed her as she drew level with him. The seams of her sleeve began to give way under his violent wrenching.

“My God, what are you doing!” she gasped, staring up into his granite expression with alarm.

“Treating you like the whore you are,” came the chilling reply. “Look at you, you slut. Which one of the servants has been tupping you? And if you gave him a taste, why not me?”

“Have you lost your mind?” she gasped. “I’m a decent woman. My husband-“

“Is a fool to trust you. All women are the same. Whores, the whole lot of you. You want me, you know you do. A virile man to warm your bed, not that old fool.”

“No, no, you’re wrong!” she panted in horror. “I love my husband. How can you say such horrid things? It’s not decent. And after everything we’ve done for you!”

“Indeed, you’ve always been so kind,” he sneered, making her sound like even more of a harlot. “So now you’re going to render me some even more personal services. I’ve had enough of your lies. Your facade of virtue. I know what you are. And now I’m going to show the world your true character.”

He tried to ram his mouth down over hers, but she ducked from side to side to avoid the loathsome contact, twisting her own arm desperately to try to break his crushing grip.

“Why? Why are you doing this?” She tried to wrench away with all her might, but he only dragged her closer, his hot breath on her cheeks almost making her faint with revulsion.

The very idea of being unfaithful chilled her. And with him of all people…. It was just too horrible to even contemplate.

“Don’t be stupid. The brat you’re carrying changes everything. I know what you’re trying to do. You want to edge me out of your lives, out of my share of the family fortunes. I won’t stand for it.”

“No, it’s not t-t-true, we all l-l-love you. And are so p-p-pleased to see yoy whenever you visit,” she stammered, trying to fend off his hands.

But he seemed to have sprouted a dozen. No matter how hard she grabbed one, two more snatched at her, pinching and twisting, rending her clothes, until the tears flowed down her face in pain in pain and despair.

She began to lose all hope that she could ever escape his unwanted attentions. She prayed to the Almighty to keep the child safe, no matter what happened to her.

“You know you’re always welcome here,” she maintained, as a different tack came to mind. Perhaps if she pretended to be willing, she could get him to let go of her long enough to make her escape…. “As for your inheritance, my husband is the best of men and has always dealt with everyone in the family most liberally. This child would change nothing between us all, I swear.”

“So you say, my dear. But every word out of your mouth is a lie. So now I’m going to gag you. Then I’m going to see what talents you possess that have turned the old coot’s head so completely.”

His vice-like grip around her waist pinned her to him helplessly while he began to unfasten his own clothes with his other hand. The sight of him opening the falls of his breeches made her struggle even harder to escape.

Never had she felt so sick to her stomach. The prospect of what was about to happen, the thought of such monumental sin, even if she was being taken against her will, was more than she could bear.

“Please, you can’t! My daughter will be here any minute. Do you want the poor child to see?”

“She’ll love it. Think it’s a game. A pretty little trick. I wonder why I didn’t think of that myself? We can play hide the sausage.”

At this threat to her unsuspecting little girl, the desperate woman didn’t even stop to think. She hauled off and slapped her assailant with every ounce of strength she possessed and broke free.

“If you harm her, so help me–“

“No matter what you say, everyone will think that you invited my attentions,” he threatened, his mocking tone filling her with terror as she ran, hardly knowing which way she went in the wending maze. “I shall reluctantly confess that the child within you is mine. That you tempted me, and I just couldn’t help myself. Then where will you be? I win no matter what, my dear.”

His mocking laugh made her break out in a cold sweat. He was more than capable of it, she knew.

Who would believe her innocent? This was a man’s world. She could be pure as the driven snow, but one whispered word of calumny could ruin her life and her daughter’s forever. A tiny sliver of gossip from this vile man’s lips could cast doubt on her entire marriage, and label the innocent child within her a bastard.

Her sense of outrage on behalf of her innocent babes caused her to rally once more. “And an eight-year-old girl invited them as well?” she cried over her shoulder, weeping as though her heart would break as she tore up the hedge-lined avenue. “You’re disgusting!”

She kept on running through the maze, left, right, right again, praying she had the pattern memorized correctly. If she could just get back to the house…

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he called in sneering tones.

Her previous sense of panic was as nothing compared to the thought of him luring her daughter out of her hiding place and into his clutches.

“No, pet, stay where you are!” she screamed. “Stay. Mummy will find you in a minute, I just have to go get Nursey too. And Phipps the butler. Stay where you are, pet!”

“Here, pussy, pussy, pussy,” she heard from just on the other side of the hedgerow. I

She nearly jumped out of her skin. She had been running as hard as she could, but he was so close. “Damn you, I’ve remained silent long enough. I’m going to tell my saintly spouse exactly who and what you are. A monster. A filthy, despicable monster!”

She ran on in terror, counting her footfalls to try to stop the black lump of panic welling in her throat from choking her. Only a bit further and-

There it was. The entrance. Thank god. Just a few more steps. Phipps would believe her, and she was sure the nurse would too. She would see how ill-used she had been and then–

She never saw it coming. Never imagined death could be so near. The arrow whistled through the air and smacked her squarely in the back.

She pitched forward face first onto the grass, tumbling out of the maze and onto the wide expanse of lawn which led up to the mansion.

“Pity, darling. Such a waste. Why could you not just have played nicely?”

“You’ll hang for this,” she wheezed, already feeling the blood rushing from her body, the air from her lungs.

Her last breath was so close. She screamed her husband’s name, but her voice was nothing more than a feeble croak. “People are going to find out what lies beneath. God help them all if they don’t.”

A pair of wide violet eyes watched in horror from under the shrubbery as the man partly raised the woman’s head off the grass and rammed his mouth over hers. The child could see a dark coat, the glimpse of a chin.

He looked as though he were sucking the last breath from the woman’s body, almost like a vampire. As if he were reveling in the taste of the blood welling up from her punctured lung.

The child crammed her fist in her mouth to stop from crying out. One peep, and she would be next…

“Since I’m such a monster, darling, I shall take a perverse satisfaction in being the last thing you ever see, hear, smell, taste, feel. I always loathed you, do you know that? Hated your sickly sweetness. Wanted to debauch and corrupt you.”

He dragged her back into the maze by one leg as though she were a side of beef, and began to rend her clothes from her.

“Silly woman. I didn’t plan to kill you. But now I can see just how perfectly this will all work out. Do forgive me, my dear. But I need to be sure.”

He twisted the arrow in her now bare back until she howled in agony and begged for death.

“Oh God, no, no!” she wept feebly, beseeching God to save her child as her own life ebbed away. The horror of the spearing pains tormented her in her last moments on earth.

A nearby peacock screamed, drowning out the sound of the woman’s final wail of pain and horror.

The sound of running footsteps fleeing in terror.

The sound of a girl’s voice weeping to be saved from the nightmare her life had suddenly become…

 

The Mad Mistress
A Rakehell Regency Novel
Sorcha MacMurrough
ISBN: 978-1-58345-099-4
Setting: Regency England, 1812
Word Count: 101,000
Rating: Mildly sensual
Price: $3.99

Book Review: The Madcap Marriage (Signet Regency Romance)
by Allison Lane
1.0 out of 5 stars Dire and dull

This couple had nothing in common except being members of the human race, though with the way they behaved toward each other that was often debatable.

The author struggled hard to get Rafe to have depth, but he just seemed a shallow playboy, and the potential rape, torture, and murder was just too heavy handed, especially juxtaposed as it was with all of her absurd angst over the slimy worm who let her down.

I hated the heroine, the near-love-making scenes just got to be too much after a while. By the time they did the deed, I could not have cared less about either of them.

With the way the heroine behaved, it was a wonder no one put her in the madhouse before that, she was such a shrew.

This is a badly written failure.  And to think it was a top American Library Association recommendation.  I think most readers picking this up at the library would be appalled.

179 words

Heart’s Desire

Sorcha MacMurrough

Nurse Sinead Thomas rescues the hospital’s handsome architect Austin Riordan from a life-threatening situation. Touched by the high-powered man’s sudden vulnerability, she agrees to his proposal to become his private nurse over the Christmas holidays while he recovers his full health.

Sinead gets more than she bargained for as she gets drawn inextricably into his web of sensuality. The passionate relationship they forge is like nothing Sinead has never known, and she soon finds herself falling in love with her enigmatic new employer.

But a cunning woman from Austin’s past soon sets herself up as a professional and very personal rival to Sinead at the hospital and in Austin’s life.

Is Austin really all he seems? Or has he been playing her all along to further his own hidden agenda? Can Austin and Sinead fight their inner and outer demons to secure their hearts’ desire?

 

Reviews:

Amazon Review: 5.0 out of 5 stars

A superb sensual novel
Beautifully written, with stunning characters, this book is sure to please any reader looking for a thrilling romance with complex characters and a rocky road to true love.

Grom Yogi Bhajan

Sit cross-legged on the floor with a straight back.

Raise your right arm so that it is in front of you at a 60 degree angle, move your left arm behind you so that it is also at a 60 degree angle pointing downwards.

Your eye focus will be looking down at your chin.

Position 1 for 3 minutes:
Point the index finger of each hand.

Position 2 for 3 minutes
Point the index finger and pinkie of each hand.

Position 3 for 3 minutes
Point the all the fingers of each hand.

To conclude, inhale deeply, hold the breath, and squeeze your whole body while stretching the spine upwards, then exhale, Repeat 2 more times, and relax.

Doing this every day for exactly 9 minutes, no more, is said to extend life considerably.