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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.
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