Saturday, September 7, 2013

Next novel started--SHROAG 50

Fun news...

I started back up on my next novel, due to come out in November, SHROAG 50.

Here's the summary in case you haven't heard about this one:

Symptoms of time travel are never fun—ask Guy Moore. He just returned, and now he's being thrown back in time. His assignment? To impregnate Anne Boleyn. As an agent of SHROAG, he's completed more assignments than any other agent, and is ready to retire. Too bad Elizabeth I needs to be born to preserve history, and his DNA is the only one to do it. How will Guy seduce Anne, the woman who kept Henry VIII at arm's length for over seven years? And how will he keep from falling for her in his efforts?

And here's a teaser from my writing today on chapter 2:

“Cousin Anne, this is a friend of mine—here to visit on holiday—Lord Guy Moore.” Nick motioned at him.
Guy swallowed hard when he realized how inappropriate he was in this instant with his hose slung over his right shoulder, his shirt gaping open and his breeches sagging. And why for the love of God did Nicholas just use his real name? He swallowed and tried to keep an aloof gaze on Anne.

“Did you swim ashore?” Anne asked, scrutinizing him and looking greatly amused. “Good Lord, I thought the Thames too brown to house fish or men anymore.” She chuckled and pointed at him. “But, you, sir, do me a great honor, showing your face in this state. I daresay I look a might bit more presentable now.” She ruffled her soiled skirt. “After falling off my horse, I thought to hide my disheveled form, but you have changed my mind.” She turned to Nick. “Yes, my Lord, I will supp with you tonight, and I will not bother to change my attire.”

Guy blinked and his mind went blank. This was not how he’d envisioned his grand scheme of wooing this woman. Not like this.

“I apologize for the state I am in, but you need not ever worry about your appearance, my lady, for you are a radiant, rare jewel. But then I am certain you are already aware of your great impact on a man’s very breath and pulse.” Guy bowed.

Nick smirked at him. “This man is a betting sort, and though he is charming as any at court, I am afraid I must warn you, lady Anne—he will while away the night, speaking nothing of roses and sunshine until you can see nothing but him, but then he disappears when you need him most.”

Guy squared his shoulders and kicked his boots off. “At least I do not lend boots to my friends that are two sizes too big.”



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