Deepest Desires Volume 1 (Collected Samantha Sinclair)

When they're drawn together at a mysterious Gothic castle, he'll have to break a wicked curse to win her heart. But when a chance meeting brings Michael Camden, Marquess of Langston, back into her life, will she give up her independence for love? The Earl and Countess of Banfield cordially request your attendance at the wedding for their daughters: Lady Tamsyn Hambly to Mr. After the death of her beloved guardian, Miss Felicity Fields is left alone with an uncertain future. But this blunt bluestocking has a secret: The last thing she needs is the return of Nicholas Harding, the Duke of Wycliffe and rightful owner of her home on the wild coast of Cornwall.

When they were children, Nicholas never understood his aunt's brilliant but unemotional ward, or her many scientific studies. Now, he's determined to bring Felicity to London so that she may make a match within society--except he can't stop thinking about her. But with the line between life and death blurred by Felicity's experiments, can he convince her that she's no longer alone, and her proper place is by his side?

Daphne Goodenham has always been determined to wed a duke—not just because she loves fine dresses and parties, but because she wants to guarantee that she and her sister are never destitute again.

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When she meets the Duke of Inverfyre, a notorious fop, she immediately notices intriguing inconsistencies. Is there more to the duke than meets the eye? Why would he hide the truth if he were handsome, young, rich and a duke? Alexander, the Duke of Inverfyre, is bent on catching a notorious thief who injured his sister, no matter what the cost.

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Will he have to sacrifice her interest to avenge his sister? When is a kiss actually a curse? When an irate Pixie forbids you to kiss the wrong girl—ever. Unfortunately, Lord Locryn Pendarvis has no idea why girls are falling all over themselves not to kiss him. He only knows that after a certain point, the risk of humiliation outweighs desire.

Until he meets Lady Gwyn Hambly again. Boxed set containing books of the bestselling historical romantic suspense series, The Rookery Rogues, set in pre-Victorian working class London:.

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Covert Heiresses and The Rookery Rogues. But Vivian didn't count on one thing: James Spencer, the intrepid Duke of Abermont, who has a tortured past of his own. After discovering Vivian's quest for vengeance has made her a pawn in a treacherous plot of one of Napoleon's most deadly spies, James realizes they can help each other. She'll become his duchess, and he'll keep her safe. What begins as a marriage of convenience quickly becomes anything but as secrets surface. When both husband and wife have dark secrets, love may be the most dangerous mission of all. Torn from her life of privilege by her father's death, Kate Morgan survives in London's dark and depraved rookeries as a fence for stolen goods.

The last man she ever expects, or wants, to be reunited with is her first love, who promised to cherish, honor and protect her, and instead fled amidst accusations of murder. One drunken night cost Daniel O'Reilly the woman he loved. If he ever wants to reclaim Kate--and his old life--he'll not only have to prove he's innocent of murder, but convince the pistol-wielding spitfire that he's no longer the scoundrel he once was.

She had neat, tiny handwriting. Unadorned, clear script, a direct contrast to her dark, deranged mind. The mad were only to be whispered about, a harrowing bedtime story meant to caution children to confine to society morals. But Claire knew better. It did not matter how good she tried to be, or how much she prayed that the wickedness would escape her.

Some things were simply unavoidable, when one had been cursed. The madness had taken her mother and her aunt, and some day it would claim her too. Until that day, she would bide her time. Kinney had been sleeping for most of the journey, but now she was awake.

They sat next to each other in the single-benched traveling coach, a fluffy red blanket spread across their laps to keep warm.

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The last thing she wanted was to worry the maid. These days, Kinney was more friend than servant, and friends were in short supply. That was the least of her concerns, if she were to be completely honest. The late Earl of Banfield had been seventy-two at his death, and he had led a long and sane—if not entirely happy—life. The loss of his young child years prior had not undone him as it had affected his wife. Kinney eyed her skeptically, seeing through her, as she always did. The maid had been with her since she was but a child.

Bestowed upon her because at four years old she had only wanted to eat peaches, the silly appellation had carried through the years, becoming more a sign of the closeness between the two of them than any indication of her dietary contrariness. Had she been born a lad instead, Kinney would have made a brilliant Bow Street Runner—she had a nose like a bloodhound for secrets. Speaking of which, you ought to have a nibble. The very idea of being so close to the coven made her stomach endlessly flip.

Instinctively, her fingers closed around the pearl pendant around her neck, wishing that it would protect her. From the large portmanteau at her feet, Kinney pulled out a cloth-wrapped package. She undid the ties, revealing six biscuits from the tea tray at their last inn stop. Claire had been too distracted to eat much, her thoughts on the will reading and seeing her distant family members.

It was never good to admit how much she missed, even to Kinney.

Instead, she took a biscuit from the cloth. They ate the remaining biscuits, staring out the windows of the carriage. The Cornwall countryside flashed before them, a seemingly endless monotony of moss-green forest and dank dirt. At least Papa was traveling separately. He rarely spent more than ten minutes in the same room as her now—she reminded him too much of his late wife. If Claire ever needed a chaperone, Kinney came with her. Yet even a fortnight in close confines with only Papa for company would not be the worst of torments.

That dubious honor applied to the times she had spent visiting her mother in Ticehurst, a private lunatic hospital catering to those members of the aristocracy one never spoke of openly. Newington, who was supposed to be kind, better than the butchers at Bedlam that tended to the paupers.

Newington, who should have known better than to allow his doctors to practice water therapy on her mother. Newington, who had met his own demise this year. He had not died in a windowless shower room, every part of his body bound and restrained in the special chair, whilst ice-cold water rained down upon him endlessly. He had not tried to suck in breath after breath in a laudanum-induced haze, swallowing only water until he drowned. Claire leaned back against the squabs and closed her eyes. That was a mistake, for the blackness reminded her of how her mother must have slipped from consciousness, her throat relaxing, water flowing into her lungs.

For a second, her breath came in fierce pants, as the image gripped her tight. The churn and fall of the carriage wheels against the dirt road did not steady her, for they were just another reminder of where she was going. She did not have much, but she had Kinney. And that was enough for her. She would not yearn for more; she refused to.

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Love was not in the cards for her. The carriage swayed as they turned right, down the road that would take them finally to Castle Keyvnor. The maid gathered up the now-empty cloth that had held the biscuits and stuffed it back in her portmanteau. Those ghosts and goblins shall have nothing on you. She wanted to be strong, like Kinney saw her, but she knew her fate was already sealed.

And I expect the Priske clan will be there too. I do so like Lady Cassandra. But I do wish Lord Ashbrooke would come too. You shall have to visit him when you return. But you are not doomed. You, of all people, deserve happiness. Keyvnor is so large. Claire scooted closer to the window, pushing the curtains all the way back to give them a better view.

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Even in the bright light of day, Castle Keyvnor was intimidating. Made of the darkest stone, it retained much of its original Norman motte and bailey design. With a wooden drawbridge, a barbican, and a gatehouse with a single rectangular tower, the castle screamed of the old and the long dead. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kinney draw back and mumble a prayer.

Theodore Lockwood, Earl of Ashbrooke and known as Teddy to his closest friends, had never liked leaving things to chance. He was a planner, a researcher, a scholar. Even when he tried to be courageous—as he attempted now—he went about it with a methodical approach. He had hunted down the original floor plans of the castle, making a special stop at the British Museum to consult with the leading expert on twelfth-century architecture. His visit, and his reasoning for finding such a vast array of information necessary for a seven-day jaunt, had surprised the professor.

But as in all things, Teddy believed preparation would be the key to success. He climbed higher, the wind whistling in his ears. Probably best not to have a full stomach when he got to the top of the castle. He paused on the steps, leaning back against the stone foundations. He told himself he was admiring the view, but really, he was marshaling his strength.

For most of his twenty-five years, every day faded into the next in a similar order. His life progressed according to plan. Until a year ago, when the letter arrived at his Half Moon Street townhouse. He still remembered how the cream-colored parchment had appeared upon the silver tray where the butler placed all of his mail, so innoxious, as if bad news could never be relayed with such an innocent piece of paper. In the span of a single day, he went from the spare intent on becoming a barrister to the new Earl of Ashbrooke. His eldest brother, Gerald, was dead. Killed in the middle of the night by a bullet to the chest.

The duel had happened so suddenly—both men were deep in their cups, and their equally foxed friends had been all-too-eager to offer themselves up as seconds. That, Teddy had learned, was the way of humanity. There was little men loved more than blood sport, and watching two young bucks fight over the affections of a well-known courtesan qualified as prime entertainment. No time to stop him from this rash mistake.

Not that Gerry would have listened to him—the two brothers had been as different as night and day, with Gerry being a proper rogue, and Teddy much preferring the company of his books to Society. According to the code of honor, duels were supposed to happen the next morning. Such a senseless death! So he climbed, each foot hitting a stone step until finally there were no more left. The stairwell bottomed out into the allure.

He stood at the top of the left tower, surrounded by gray granite. The grayness faded into the equally dank sky, until he felt as though he was enveloped in a blob of watered-down ink. It was as if the sky was waiting—holding its breath before a great storm. Giles, had remarked as they leaned against the track guardrails at Newmarket.

Teddy had been friends with St. Giles since they were first enrolled at Eton as young lads, and unfortunately St. Giles knew him far, far too well. Beside Blackwater, Lord Michael Beck nodded vigorously. Giles had hit on the truth. What would happen to their friendship then? As Elena realizes the kind of relationship Striker wants reaches out to the dark desires she has deep inside, she knows she wants to explore all he has to offer.

When they find that her family is still after her, Striker and the Soldiers of Wrath MC, a group of dangerous and violent bikers, know they must protect her at all costs. Elena chooses to put her life in their hands. In the end, will Striker want more than just a willing submissive to warm his bed and sate his appetites?

The Soldiers of Wrath Volume 2. This box-set is filled with alpha, obsessed bikers that will do anything it takes to make sure the women they love are safe. She was his drug of choice, his addiction. Nerd would walk through hell just to prove he was crazy for her. Nerd had never wanted anything for himself … until she came along. Hannah was his everything whether she knew it or not. This novella will feature short stories a where are they now set-up from the following Soldiers of Wrath characters: Constance lost the only family she had in a fatal car accident.

It also left her blind in one eye. She feels desire for him, and the things she wants him to do to her should make her blush. Vengeance lives the MC life. That means he works hard and plays harder. But when he comes across a woman, this fragile, innocent female, something in him awakens. He wants her instantly, but not just in a filthy way.

He wants to protect her, keep her safe. But when Constance starts to feel happy, loved even, she realizes someone has been watching her. The Harder they Fall. At least he thought it was. Especially when he just made a deal with her that would have her moving into his place. Renee knew coming to see her brother Vengeance unannounced might not have been the best idea. I kind of hoping for Striker. All the books here are self-published with Jenika Snow You can find all our Crescent Snow Publishing books, and information here: Owned by the Bastard Series: Bent, Not Broken Series: Hard as Steel Series: Soldiers of Wrath MC Company: April 30th Blurb: This title does contain explicit adult themes.

The Soldiers of Wrath plus bonus short novella Series: Soldiers of Wrath Company: Ruin and Rise Series: Soldiers of Wrath Novella Company: Crescent Snow Publishing Buy Links: Can they really rise from the ashes and not get burned? Soldiers of Wrath Buy Links: The Soldiers of Wrath Volume 2 Series: January 10, at January 13, at February 1, at Yes, Jenika and I will be working on him after we finish King.