PASSIONS OF THE GHOST, AVON, DECEMBER 2006

ISBN 0-06-079582-4

Synopsis

The Conquering Ghost…He is Lord Reynald de Mortimer, a powerful warrior of the thirteenth century who defended his castle against his fiercest enemies.  Now Reynald has awakened from a seven-hundred-year sleep to find that his beloved home has been turned into a modern hotel.  Worse, it is host to a medieval festival!  Before Reynald can begin to contemplate his fate, a stunning beauty comes to his rescue…  

 Amy Fairweather is not your typical damsel.  Nor is she in distress.  As a former con artist, it’ll take more than a breathtaking giant in armor to convince her that he’s the Lord Reynald…even if he does set Amy’s nights ablaze with passion and magic.  But then strange, inexplicable things start to happen at the hotel, and she has no choice but to believe that the Ghost has emerged from the shadows of time.  And now he must seek redemption by facing his greatest threat…with the unquestioning love of one extraordinary woman by his side.

 

Excerpt

"Nicco," she said, trying to wheedle, but he ignored her.  She'd kept him at arm's length too long, while making too many promises with her lips and eyes.  "Please, I don't like heights."  He was pinning her to the battlements.  Behind her the world fell away dizzyingly.

 "I will make you forget about such things, Amee," he said arrogantly.

 Amy mentally gritted her teeth as he came in again, all hands and tongue.  She was going to have to stop him, she couldn't stand his pawing another moment.  Amy clenched her hand into a fist and drew it back for a hard, sharp jab to His Highness's midsection.

 A deep soft voice came out of the darkness, full of threat, and something more that made the hairs stand up on the back of Amy's neck.

 "Unhand the woman, or I will spit you like a pig."

 Amy felt Nicco's hands drop away from her.  He turned, his profile stiff and outraged against the light from the stairwell.

 "How dare you," he began in his most regal voice.

 But Amy wasn't listening.  She was too busy looking.  There was a man, a huge man.  He must have been here all along, seated in the shadows farther along the tower.  Now, as he stood up, she gasped.  Amy wasn't someone who enjoyed violence or the threat of it, but the moment seemed so unreal . . . She had to admit to a primitive thrill of feminine excitement.

 "She wishes you to let her go," the giant said, in that soft deep rumble.  "Could you not hear her?  Or are you as deaf as you are lacking in wits?"

 Nicco made a choking sound.  "Come, Amee," he said, his voice trembling with rage.  "We will go back downstairs, where we won't be insulted by this riffraff."

 "I'm not insulted," she heard herself say.