Today’s Book Hook comes from Rogue’s Hostage, my historical romance set during the French and Indian War.
Fate delivered them into each other’s arms. Will love set them free?
The Pennsylvania frontier, 1758. Mara Dupré never got used to living in fear. As danger lurks in every shadow, supporting her husband’s farming efforts while France and Britain battle in the New World has worn her down. But her life shatters when an invading war party kills her spouse, and she is taken captive by a dashing French officer.
Lieutenant Jacques Corbeau thought he’d lost his honor years ago. But something about the spirited woman whose scalp he saved from his Indian partners tugs deeply on his desire to redeem his past. And now as they undertake a dangerous trek to return to the fort, he swears a silent oath to protect her with his life.
In desperation, Mara attempts to bargain her virtue in exchange for her freedom. Though Jacques would gladly bed the fetching widow, he’s torn between passion and reclaiming his lost honor.
Will their tragic union fall to a murderous musket, or can they find everlasting love?
Rogue’s Hostage is a riveting standalone historical romance. If you like strong characters, enemies-to-lovers stories, and richly detailed histories, then you’ll adore this sensual adventure.
Buy Rogue’s Hostage to untie the bonds of desire today!
In celebration of my birthday month, Rogue’s Hostage is on a Kindle Countdown Deal for 99 cents at Amazon.com and Amazon.uk.
Here’s a short snippet from Jacques’s point of view:
Holding the towel to his shoulder, he walked over and stood by the bed to check on the woman, who was still in a faint. Despite her pallor, he noted that her skin was fine, her nose straight and thin. She had a lower lip just full enough to entice a man to taste it, and a stubborn chin that dared him to try.
She was perhaps not as lovely as he’d thought when he first saw her standing in the clearing—her hair, the color of corn silk, shining in the sunlight. Still, she was tall and fair, with slender curves and shapely ankles visible beneath the short skirts of a farm wife.
And now she was a widow. He stared down at the woman and silently vowed to see that no more innocents died today.
The woman gave a soft moan and opened her eyes. When she spotted him, she shrank back against the wall, arms folded defensively across her breast. His gut tightened. He didn’t enjoy terrifying women, but fear should make her easier to control. She had already proven unpredictable.
Terror, stark and vivid, glittered in her eyes. “Who are you?”
“My name is Jacques Corbeau, lieutenant in the army of France. And you are my captive.”
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