CATCHING SHADOWS

By

Jewel Adams

   CHARITY BECKER’S lover kisses her lips with searing passion and melts away as the morning light strikes her bedroom window. She steps through the fine line that separates the present from the past.

   Waiting for her on the other side is JACOB KINGSMAN, a man claiming her as his wife. Can Charity’s passion to discover the truth regarding the real Mrs. Kingsman free Jacob of his guilt?

Together they scorch time with a hot, erotic passion in CATCHING SHADOWS.

EXCERPT: General Audience, Gothic Erotic Romance - Time Travel

Available in Print and Ebook:  http://steamheaterotica.com/shbkpgCaShadows.html

CATCHING SHADOWS

By

Jewel Adams

CHAPTER 1 - Sand Castles

here it was again, another glimmer of a figure near the window. Charity thought she might be going mad. She waited for another glimpse, but none came, they never did when she looked for them. It took a minute to release the breath she held. The rush of fresh air felt light in her lungs, but it couldn’t take the apprehension away.

“I wish it would leave.”

But no, her head shook to defy the declaration. She wanted to know what it was…more who it could be and if the feelings touching her were real. Even now the sensation lingered, as if she were being caressed. Like in her dreams, ones that left her breathless in unfulfilled passion, before slipping back into the night when the sun began to wake the day.

“What a silly idea.” She actually stamped her foot for emphasis. Or did she expect to scare it out of hiding?

“What’s silly Charity?

She gave her nephew a quick glance, then a smile to ease the serious look he maintained on her. “Nothing, nothing at all Pauly.”

“Can we go to the beach?”

“Sure, when should we go?”

“Now, oh please?”

Right now any excuse she could find to get out of the house sounded good to her. Why her sister insisted on staying in this relic for the summer still bothered her. Of course, Lynda’s boyfriend did own the place. She should be here, not Charity!

“Okay, run and get your suit on, I’ll get the towels.”

“Can I bring my bucket?”

“Yes, and the shovel, don’t forget the shovel.” His whoop of excitement acknowledged he heard her.

Charity lost her thoughts to getting everything ready for the beach and to pack some treats and drinks for the two of them. “It is a beautiful day for the beach.”

The prospect of the beach couldn’t steal her thoughts away from the problem. She sighed and wondered why this was happening. “I swear I need a vacation!”

Ah, but wasn’t she suppose to be on one? Of course she still minded the house and chores, as well as watching Pauly. If given a choice she would have preferred to stay behind while everyone came here. “That certainly wouldn’t have worked for anyone but me.”

Charity really hated feeling sorry for herself, it wasn’t a very positive attitude. Then things haven’t been in the best of light for her. “And YOU, whoever you might be, aren’t helping any!”

Her little tirade didn’t even stir the dust balls, let alone earn her an answer. Yet she almost wished someone would retaliate, yell back, “…be real?”

Were shadows real? “Now that is the million dollar question. And no, I don’t expect anyone to step forward and give a valid answer.”

Yet ever since arriving here the question became extremely important to her. They, the encounters, started that first week and kept getting stronger with each passing day.

Charity saw shadows!

Not just any shadow, no she couldn’t be lucky enough to see a shadow of a chair or the sun coming through the lace curtains at the window. What seemed to plague her were shadows of one particular…man!

“Yes, it is a man. I can feel his presence…even now, in the daylight.”

But was he real? Was she just imagining all this?

Pauly’s sliding entrance into the kitchen ended the questions she kept asking herself.

“I’m ready!”

“I can see you are and so am I. Our lunch is packed and I think I’ve got everything.”

“I have my bucket and the shovel!”

It would be nice to be a child once again, no worries beyond the day. Charity pushed her troubled thoughts away and ruffled Pauly’s hair. “Good, you can build me a giant sand castle.”

It didn’t take them long to start down the path to the shore. For a second she hesitated and fought the need to look back at the house. The pull on her senses became too strong and she turned…there, at her bedroom window. She felt her stomach drop. The figure of a man stood there…watching her.

“Come on Charity!”

Pauly’s call shook her out of the stunned trance she’d fallen into. “You’re not real.”

She turned away, almost daring him to refute her declaration!

* * * *

Charity carried the sleepy Pauly up to his bed. Poor boy nearly fell asleep eating his dinner. She shouldn’t have kept them at the beach as long as she did, but she couldn’t make herself come back here. To hope it would be gone on their return turned into a useless wish on her part.

Even now, as she tucked Pauly in, she felt as if someone watched her. She tried not to let the feelings invade her, but every day it grew stronger and she could no longer ignore the presence. Her skin actually tingled whenever it came near her. She swore she could feel the heat from his body, the whisper touch of his fingers as they brushed over her cheek.

As she left her nephew’s room she tried to concentrate on the problem and not the presence following her. She hesitated by her bedroom door then walked past it, knowing she didn’t want to chance what might happen, again, if she went to bed. The heat flooded her cheeks over the memory of last night’s visit. Just thinking about the memory made the lazy warmth move through her. Strange as this all appeared to be, she never in her life felt so alive as when he made love to her. But, they hadn’t really finished the act and the emptiness left in his wake felt like a deep well, one she could drown in should he not return.

Her hands clasped the banister over the heaviness in her legs. “No…I won’t let you control me this way!”

The air near her grew chilly as if she’d slapped him. Maybe she could control this, what ever it might be. She made sure her footsteps were secure before taking the next step. The sensual weakness lessened, but remained too near the surface for her to relax. Charity didn’t relax until she stepped off the last step.

Would he really hurt her? She wished she hadn’t thought to ask such a question. But once it came, she couldn’t help but shiver over the possible answers. Charity knew all she ever felt from him was passion, strong, vibrant and yes…dangerous passion. The blush sweeping up her throat didn’t stop her from remembering what he made her feel. She closed her eyes for just a second to savor the desire, before forcing it back into the darkness. “If only…”

* * * *

“Damn you!” Jacob’s fist hit the door. As he rolled his back against the heavy wood, he searched the room to see if her image remained. The anger vibrated through his body, tensing the breadth of his powerful frame.

He let his head fall back, needing to feel the solid presence of the house, wondering how he would ever survive her treachery; for Jacob feared his own sanity at this moment. “I held you in my very hands, and yet you vanish before my eyes. Where do you hide?” The question made his eyes close as he groaned over the absurdity. “I talk to air and expect answers!”

There, a quick glimpse by the stairs. Jacob pushed off the door to follow what he feared would be another dead end. His steps slowed as he neared the stairwell, she stood at the top of the stairs. He wanted to reach out and touch her, pull her to him, but something kept him from acting on his desire.

He followed her down the stairs, she looked worried tonight. The darkness under her eyes made him wonder if she too lost a night’s sleep. It would be her own fault for the games she played with him… “In my own house!”

Nary a length of her beautiful hair moved from his outburst. He did so love to touch her hair, she would put the finest fur to shame, for its softness was like none he’d ever felt. The memory made him think on their night together, just the thought made him instantly hard in desire. He possessed a ravenous hunger for this woman. The way her breast rested in his palm before he would wrap his fingers about the ample globe. His tongue came out as if to taste the ripe, swollen nipple that he brought to life. Ahh, the sweetness of a woman in heat…

She moved too quickly off the last step! Jacob cursed his musing for he knew she wouldn’t be there. As he feared she escaped from his sight once again. Nearly two weeks hath passed since they started playing this cat and mouse game of hers.

“I know not where you go Charity, but by all that is holy you will not leave us! If I need to take this house apart, board and stone, I will find your hiding place and we shall end this foolish game of yours!”

“You are mine Charity. My wife, forever!”

RIVERBOATS & RAINBOWS

By

Jewel Adams

 Historical Erotic Romance Time Travel

  The renovated riverboat appears to be the perfect solution for her aunt’s annual fundraiser. Angela La Cross’ busy agenda didn’t include falling into the boat’s hold. When she comes to and finds she is the only woman on a boat full of men, she begins to think this wasn’t such a good idea.

  James McFarlain wanted his last trip up the Mississippi to be uneventful. The last thing he expected to see on the Silver Queen was a woman. Telling himself she was nothing but a mess of trouble didn’t stop him from looking into her emerald eyes. When she silently sought his help, James knew he was done for.

  Her trip back in time to 1875 became only a minor set back for Angie when compared to a good looking cowboy, cattle rustlers and one very determined Sioux warrior.

  Angela might survive her tumble through time, but can her heart decide between the love of two men? Can she find the answers before time runs out? Her journey is not an easy one when love keeps changing the rules. Join Angie in the adventure of a lifetime, one that will capture your heart!

EXCERPT: General Audience, Sensual Erotic Time Travel Romance

Available in Print and Ebook:  http://steamheaterotica.com/shbkpgRivRain.html

RIVERBOATS & RAINBOWS

By 

Jewel Adams

CHAPTER 1 – The Ante

aise you a hundred Jamey.” The man’s enthusiasm flowed over the table to the unaffected player.

The strong, tanned fingers slowly unfolded the cards, fanning them out for his private scrutiny. A full house, which meant Duncan was probably acting. James played him many times on the circuit. Duncan could never hide his eagerness when he thought he had James beat. Tonight certainly wasn’t going James’ way. A full two rounds of the deal and he’d only taken one small hand.

     Looking around at the other two players, he figured this pot was too rich for their blood. They’d fold on the raise leaving only Duncan and himself to bluff it out. Maybe he should call it a night? Damn, it was too early for that, but James knew when the luck wasn’t with him. “I’ll see your hundred Duncan, and raise you fifty.”

     He watched Duncan’s face blotch in anger. As he expected the others threw their hands down in disgust. James waited for Duncan to get over what his cards told his tight-eyed stare.

“You’re a lucky ass hole, Jamey.” Duncan tossed the cards into the pot.

James pulled the money and cards over to him, showing little over the defamation thrown his way. Separating out the cards, he gathered the small winnings and pushed away from the table. “It’s been nice.”

     “You calling it a night?”

     James didn’t bother to answer. Duncan would relish starting a fight. Going over to the bar, James angled himself so he could see the entire room.

     “What will it be Mr. McFarlain?”

     “Scotch, Willie.”

     “Yes sir.”

     James saw the captain in the bar mirror as he entered the casino. Captain Welsh wasn’t to be taken lightly. The river was his domain and heaven help the bastard stupid enough to cross him. Welsh looked more disagreeable than usual. James cursed the fact this boat had been the only one available for the ride up river. If he wasn’t in such a hurry he would never have stepped foot on the Silver Queen.

     “You still work’n the river, McFarlain?”

     “Now where else would I be, Captain?”

     “Thought you might have smartened up and gotten off by now.”

     Off the river James’ business was his own. Gambling wouldn’t have entered his past life. But that was before the war and everything he’d known had been destroyed or taken away. “The river feels slow tonight.”

     “You should be captaining the Silver Queen, you always did know more than most men working the tables. Heard once you had a big plantation, down by New Orleans.”

     “Times change.” Sipping his drink, he didn’t mind the man’s probing. It was common knowledge who he used to be. What he would be was no one’s concern but his own.

     “Out of luck tonight or are the tables too cheap for your liking?”

     “Like I said, Captain, the river is slow.”

     “Duncan seems to be having a good night.”

     James’ blue eyes watched the players’ reflections in the mirror. He didn’t like the way Duncan’s group looked, but kept it to himself. It was his last trip up river and he didn’t need any trouble.

     One of the crew called the Captain away. James motioned Willie to set up another drink. Anxious to be off the river James thought about the future, something he hadn’t done for some time.

     Mike would be waiting for him in St. Louis. They would start the drive from there to take the cattle to Montana. His crystal blue eyes went deep in concentration over the ranch, Twin Creeks. He didn’t like admitting how much he counted on that unknown place.

     When he won it off that man last year, he’d been madder than a rattler and ready to throw the deed away in the next hand just to be free of it. Why he’d pocketed the deed he couldn’t recall.

     That night in his cabin, it fell out of his coat. Picking it up James took his first look at the document. It was all there, all legally his, because of one man’s foolish pride in a card game. James thought long and hard over the land he now held title to. Remorse or conscience made him seek out the man that next morning. Mr. Burr must have been on a road of self-destruction. He learned the man got into another card game after James left. In the process Burr picked a fight with the wrong man and got himself killed over a five-dollar pot.

     Finding he couldn’t give the land back, James decided to investigate what he owned. Wiring a banker associate of his, he learned just about all he could without actually seeing the property. The reports said everything was in order with the deed and that Mr. Burr had no living relatives. The land and ranch were said to be in good shape, though neglected.

     Locating his brother Michael proved more of an effort than finding out about Twin Creeks. Mike, like James, left New Orleans after the war and discovering their uncle sold their home to carpetbaggers. It was a blow neither brother took lightly. James turned to gambling because it was there and he proved to be good at it.  Being cautious over his playing partners kept him alive. He hated his present life and Twin Creeks looked like the answer he’d been searching for. There were enough funds from his gambling takes to buy a large herd of cattle and the stores needed to start the ranch. Hopefully, what was left would keep them going until she started holding her own.

      He learned all he could about the territory and James decided to take one last gamble. The cattle would be their staple stock, but there were herds of wild horses free for the taking. He planned to do just that. The government was hungry for horses, good riding stock, and James intended on getting in on the contracts they were issuing. Purchasing the stallion cost a large chunk of their funds, but he needed a good bloodline to start the horse ranch Twin Creeks would someday become.

     Mike hadn’t been idle since he’d seen him two years ago. Working as trail boss for various outfits he willingly joined James in the venture. Between them, they would rebuild what took their family generations to accomplish and loose overnight.

     “Another, Mr. McFarlain?”

     “One more, Willie.”

     Home? It felt strange to call it that. Neither of them had seen it yet, but James felt anxious to get there.

* * * *

     In the thick darkness she wasn’t sure if her eyes were open. But when she moved, the pain in her head sent them squeezing shut.

     Holding the back of her head she gingerly made it to her feet. Finding the wall as she reached out in the darkness, Angie bumped into the ladder. Leaning against it, she waited until the throbbing ebbed before trying to climb the slippery rungs.

     Angie feared falling again and stopped repeatedly to fight off the dizziness. It felt like it took forever to reach the doorway. After several tries to open the hatch, Angie put her full weight against it before finally dislodging the hatch door. She collapsed on the deck, exhausted by the effort.

     Moaning, she struggled to sit up and face the night. A cool breeze came off the river helping to clear away the fog inside her head. Angela cringed over the mishap of falling, deciding she more than missed her dinner appointment.

     She managed to standup, leaning against the boat for support, a strange steady vibration moved up her legs. For a second it confused her, but then she realized it was coming from the riverboat. Listening, she heard the swishing sound of the large wheel turning through the water. The movement of the boat was slight and sluggish, but unmistakable. “We’re moving! Oh no…”

     How long had she been out?

     Looking around her she failed to locate her purse, positive she left it beside the hatch. She tried to catch some light to see the time at her wrist, but strangely there wasn’t any light coming from the shoreline. Stumbling to the rail she scanned the dark line of trees along the riverbank. Wherever they were on the river was certainly a ways from New Orleans. Stars, she hoped this wasn’t an all night cruise.

     She was dirty and bruised all over. The knot on the back of her head felt so tender it hurt when she walked. Looking around the deck she couldn’t think past the throbbing to figure out what bothered her about it.

     She tried to push her hair back and she realized she’d lost the clip holding her bangs. She’d be damned if she would go back down there and look for it. “One fall a night is enough, thank you.”

     With the rail’s support Angela decided she better find the captain or manager, someone that could help her. She didn’t think they would turn back just for her, but maybe they could radio shore so her Aunt Belle and Sally wouldn’t worry. “Damn! I didn’t even tell them where I was going.”

     She could see it all now. Auntie would call the police within an hour of her missed dinner appointment. They would find her car on the docks, of all places. Auntie would go into vapors. Well, she couldn’t do anything about it until she found someone.

     The music and muffled voices drew her forward. It sounded familiar; she remembered feeling this way when she entered the room this afternoon. It seemed the Silver Queen was all she’d imagined it would be.

     His blue eyes seemed to find her of their own accord. Framed in the doorway was something he never saw aboard Captain Welsh’s boat. Funny, but even after his initial shock over seeing the woman’s reflection in the mirror, he couldn’t stop looking at her.

     Wild dark locks of ebony hair floated around the woman like a protective cloak. They did little to hide the lovely creature behind the veil. Looking closer, James also saw the dirt smudged across her cheek and forehead. Sucking in his breath over what his scrutiny uncovered, anger and concern flared in unwanted quantities for the pain and confusion marring her lovely face. James tried to pull his eyes away, but she seemed to hold him in the most peculiar way.

     Maybe it was the outlandish attire she wore? It wasn’t everyday you saw a woman dressed like a man; an Indian one at that if those boots were any indication. Eyes the color of emeralds, they weren’t Indian and neither was that ivory complexion.

     James felt the strangest chill move over him. She was undoubtedly beautiful, statuesque, and yet too vulnerable as her brilliant eyes searched the room. For just a second they seemed to latch onto his, making him feel like she physically touched him or something more. But they pulled away too quickly to discover the answer.

     Angie wondered what it was about the room that made her uneasy. Things came too slowly past the pain assaulting her head. Just as lethargic were the eyes turning in her direction. Even the murmurs ended as an uncomfortable silence fell over everyone. No, that wasn’t right…every man, there were no women, anywhere!

     Angie swallowed hard over the ill feeling this gave her as she unconsciously raised her chin against their probing gazes. She tried to think past the foreboding she felt, but it became increasingly difficult. She wanted to tell them how rude their observations were, yet thought better of it.

     Seeing no one standing about that looked in charge, her gaze finally went to the bar. Having so many men in one room must have addled her, because she could swear the room looked different. Taking a deep breath she forced her unsteady legs to walk towards the bar. She could feel their eyes following her. It took all her control not to turn and glare back at them.

     She came hard against the bar and held it to fight the dizziness plaguing her. Afraid to look at any of the men leaning there, she tried to concentrate on only the young bartender and forming her words. “Excuse me? I need to see the captain or manager, please.”

     What was wrong with them? The buzz immediately following her announcement made her knuckles whiten in apprehension.

     “Can I help you?”

     The effort to turn and see the man who owned the deep decisive voice nearly defeated her. When she faced him his eyes stole the last of her breath.

     How long she looked at him she didn’t know or care. Shaking away the volatile feelings she brought her thoughts back to the here and now. But stars how he seemed to fill her mind.

     He was so…devastatingly handsome!

     Stars, but that hit on her head must have rattled her common sense. What was the matter with her? She never let any man affect her like this and certainly not a stranger. “Are you the captain?”

     His smile could melt ice, but it was the questioning in his cool gaze that captured her attention, making it hard to concentrate on his answer.

     “No, but are you sure it is the captain you want to see?”

     “Well yes, I think so, unless there is a manager around.”

     Why had he approached her? Knowing every man in the room was glaring bug eyed at them James sure wasn’t paying any attention to the warnings. She was trouble he didn’t need. “Willie, go fetch Captain Welsh.”

     “You sure about that Mr. McFarlain? You know he ain’t going to like this none.”

     She listened to the conversation that concerned her yet seemed to be ignoring her presence. Angie hurt too much to care what these men thought. “Look, I need to get to shore or radio the authorities.”

     One of the men snickered. James watched the lady’s pride spark over the insulting remarks bouncing about the room. He couldn’t control his admiration when she refused to don the insults with even a reproachful glance.

     “Miss?”

     “Miss La Cross.”

     “Well Miss La Cross, I think the captain will be more than happy to oblige your request.”

     “Good.”

     She watched the man give a silent signal to the young man behind the bar, sending him out from under it to do as she requested.

     “Thank you…McFarlain, isn’t it?”

     “Yes.”

     Angie felt better knowing the captain was coming. She couldn’t shake the growing nervousness over these men and their apt attention on her. Chancing a look about the room, not a one of them resumed their game seeming to think she was more interesting. She actually thought a few of the glaring eyes held expectancy in them. “Hey, what’s wrong with them?”

     “Wrong, Miss La Cross?”

     Moving closer to him, she whispered. “Why are they watching me? I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. If it’s a stag party or something like that, I am sorry.”

     James couldn’t stop looking at her. She made less sense than he felt his actions did. He didn’t like the men’s gazes anymore than she did. Something compelled him to try and ease her concerns.

     “You are a rarity on Captain Welsh’s boat.”

     “A rarity? In what way?”

     Was that innocent look in those green eyes as real as it appeared?

     “You are a woman.”

     Her laughter died beneath the unwavering look of concern he held her in. He was serious and Angie felt herself become cold over the implied danger. She would have left, right then, if the dizziness hadn’t returned when she tried to move.

     The strength in the hands holding her up became all too clear, tearing through her muddled thoughts.

     “Miss La Cross are you alright?”

     “My head, I fell.”

     When his fingers glanced over the bump at the back of her head, she groaned and fell against him. Righting herself wasn’t possible. Finding the will to leave what she found in his hold defeated her efforts. Closing her eyes she told herself it would only be for a minute, just a minute. There was so much strength…and safety.

     James’ hands seemed to move on their own, retaining the embrace she didn’t end and he couldn’t. God, she was so soft, so very nice. He couldn’t stop himself from touching her and allowing the wild hunger loose that holding her drove to the surface.

     Shaking himself, his eyes registered the tight lipped anger and wanting his present stance brought out in his staring companions. Swallowing his groan of awareness, James needed to get a hold of himself. What the hell was he trying to do? Commit suicide? Before he could disengage her he heard the gruff astonishment of the Captain coming up behind him.

     “What the hell do you think you are doing, McFarlain? Damn, you know my rules and the consequences!”

     He lost his concentration to her fingers digging into his sleeve. Her silent fear was unmistakable. The distraction proved to be his downfall.

     He felt the hands relieving him of his gun, just before two pairs enclosed about his arms. She remained in his hold. It was the Captain’s fingers that came around in front of them to dislodge her.

     “Release the harlot this instant McFarlain!”

     James’ dislike for the man seemed to fuel his irrational behavior towards the woman. Mike and the two thousand head of cattle were forgotten. “I’d love to, but she is hurt.”

     The scoffs came from the room and James felt the dread close over him. A few well placed calls from the men reddened the Captain’s enraged face.

     “Look Welsh, I don’t….”

     “Save it McFarlain, your gentlemanly charms won’t get you out of this.”

     Angie couldn’t stop her shiver. Every spoken word made them worse. She should move away from the man whose arms supported her. Why were they mad at them? At him? She could understand the captain being upset over having an unwanted passenger. But why take it out on Mr. McFarlain?

     Calling on her remaining strength she pushed away from him and looked into the angry glare of his eyes. Was it her or the captain that lit that fire? His face was like stone, showing nothing of the turmoil she felt in the hands still holding her arms. His eyes held the graying of the storm she sensed, making her shake her head in denial, only to realize her mistake too late.

     His hold tightened over her renewed weakness, refusing to obey the Captain’s ravings. Pulling her back against his chest was the worse thing James could do. No one wanted to believe he didn’t know her. James saw this too often; they were now the night’s entertainment. An example for the Captain, not to be dismissed until tried and convicted.

     Rage engulfed him over what he knew was coming. Thoughts of fighting his way out ended as quickly as they surfaced. It would mean leaving Miss La Cross to face these men, alone. He couldn’t bring himself to do that to her. Neither would he release her to the furious man reaching out to pull her away.

     “Keep your hands off her, Welsh!”

     It was a foolish threat considering he was unarmed and held by two oversized goons. But the captain took the danger glaring at him at face value and stopped his advance.

     Cautiously eyeing James, “Then you admit it?”

     What was he saying? Admit what? Angie must have missed something. This had gone far enough she needed to get a hold of herself. She managed to push herself away from McFarlain to face the captain.

     James watched the girl that disengaged his hold. She swayed, but he forced himself not to reach for her. Her eyes stayed him from helping. A daring mix of pride and stubbornness held her up. James felt something swell inside him for this woman, something he couldn’t define, but had to accept.

     “Captain, I believe?”

     “You know damn well I am!”

     “There is no need to get excited.”

     James’ humor nearly broke free. Her indignation was sending Welsh into a huffing fit.

     “You insolent….”

     “Welsh, I wouldn’t.” James’ voice was low and controlled, but it was a warning that silenced the room.

     Angie didn’t dare look at the man standing close enough behind her that she could feel his heat. Whatever they all saw in McFarlain she cared only for the relief she felt that it kept this bull of a captain away from her.

     “Look Captain, I think you have misunderstood. I’m sorry if you find my presence on your boat upsetting, but I can assure you it wasn’t intentional.” She didn’t like the way he was gloating at her. When he crossed his arms over his bloated stomach, straining the brass buttons of his uniform, she bit the inside of her cheek not to groan.

     “So your presence wasn’t meant to be found out, hey?”

     “No…I meant, I didn’t plan to be here at all. I fell down your ladder, and I guess I knocked myself out. Could you please contact the authorities, my aunt…?”

     “The only authority around here is me and believe me, missy, you’ve made contact.”

     Why didn’t that make her feel any better? He certainly wasn’t what she expected and he’d not get any booking for the party with this kind of insolent attitude. If his eyes raked over her breasts one more time, she…she’d slap him, that’s what she’d do!

     “The name is Miss La Cross. Now, would you please radio the authorities and let them know where I can be picked up.”

     James hadn’t heard a Creole accent like that since leaving New Orleans. The lyrical tones almost made him miss Welsh’s reply.

     “Now, Miss La Cross, I’d be obliged to accommodate you if I had such a thing…what was it? A raydee-oh?”

     She ignored his sarcastic use of her name. “Then just let me off at the next port.”

     James tensed over what he felt was coming, which caused the brutes holding him to secure their hold more.

     “I’d be glad to, only we’ve some unfinished business to attend to first.”

     She wanted to ask what, but the whooping and hollering rushing through the room drowned out her voice. Clamping her mouth shut, she couldn’t stop herself from turning to Mr. McFarlain for answers.

     “Oh my stars!” Angie felt what little color she possessed drain away. Her anger surged over what she stared open mouthed upon.

     “Miss La Cross, I think it would be best if you didn’t say anything else.” James didn’t think the woman would listen to his request.

     Spinning back to confront the captain, she gripped the bar in order not to fall. Ignoring McFarlain’s warning her angry words were forced past clenched teeth. “What is the meaning of this? Release Mr. McFarlain!”

     She was shaking under the shock of seeing him held by those men and a knife pressed to his throat! How dare they do that to him!

     “Missy, I have every intention of doing just that, but first.” She wanted to disappear from the sneer he gave her. “Men gather round.”

     Looking from him, back to McFarlain and the stern uneasy look he gave her did indeed shut her up. McFarlain’s eyes conveyed the message that she only made it worse. The knife pressing close to his jugular vein wasn’t a joke. Angie tasted the bitterness of true fear.

     “Now you all know my rules about women on board my vessel.” Looking directly at her, “They are not allowed and the punishment is severe.”

     His speech was hilarious, Angie felt like she was in some corny movie. Opening her mouth, she snapped it shut when McFarlain’s strained curse reached her ears.

     Glaring at him under the circumstances would be silly, but she was getting angrier by the second. Instead, she directed her tempered glare at the captain. Ugh, but she wanted to smack that satisfied grin off his pug face. Who did he think he was, anyway? She’d sue him for falling on his unattended vessel! Physical trauma, yeah, she probably suffered a concussion. Mental anguish was a certainty.

     Building up her nerve to verbally attack the man, the tirade froze in her throat over his next announcement.

     “Men, we have a wedding to perform.”

     “Wedding?” Her outburst drew everyone’s humorous glances.

     “Why yes, Miss La Cross…your wedding.”

     The men’s laughter echoed through her head like a bad dream. He grabbed her arm and made her follow the men leading McFarlain outside.

To his credit McFarlain put up a valiant struggle. To her dismay, he received a vicious blow to his jaw for his effort. If he got loose the rage burning inside that man wouldn’t have stopped until these men were desecrated. Abhorring violence she couldn’t believe she was actually wishing he would break free.

     Angie swallowed back her cry over what his hard blue eyes told her. This wasn’t a joke. These men were serious. They all had to be nuts!

     All kinds of crazy thoughts careened through the intense pain that each dragged step sent off in her head.

     James never took his eyes off her. When she stumbled he’d gone wild. The anger over seeing her in pain took over. The ache in his jaw snapped him back into some resemblance of sanity, but the fury inside him was near uncontrollable.

     If only she’d keep quiet. He feared what they might do to her if she continued. It was obvious she had no idea of the dangerous extent of her situation. Welsh could be a vicious man. He relished the attention he was getting and it made him unpredictable. James wasn’t in any position to help either of them. Getting her away from these men was imperative. James didn’t like the ugly way the crowd was turning or the looks in their eyes for her. She didn’t realize what he was seeing and he hoped she wouldn’t, fearing what she might do.

     When they placed her beside him he took the chance to whisper to her. “Just do what he wants and agree with whatever I say.”

     Angie’s eyes enlarged over McFarlain’s request. Was he crazy too? Didn’t he hear what the captain was up to?

     She wanted to ask him, but the captain didn’t give her a chance.

     “Now, I have here the bible and as captain I have legal authority to wed these two. It’s legal, you will be husband and wife. What better match, right boys?”

     The cheers sent chills up her spine.

     “Now, James McFarlain do you take Miss…what’s your first name?”

     Glaring at him she had a good mind not to answer. Scanning the sea of expectant faces her pride stiffened. “Angela.”

     “James McFarlain, do you take Angela La Cross as your lawful wedded wife?”

     Not looking at him she held her breath with the expectancy she felt over his answer. Why should she care?

     “I do.”

     The captain chuckled over the angry outburst everyone knew McFarlain wanted to lash out with.

     “And you, Angela La Cross, do you take this man as your husband?”

     “What? No love, honor and obey?” Her indignation made her antagonize the man.

     “Throw in obey would you Welsh, I think I’ll need that one.”

     Glaring up at McFarlain she didn’t know with whom she was angrier. The captain repeated the vow, tossing in obey at McFarlain’s request.

     “Well, we’re waiting, get to it Missy.”

     Angel didn’t need the obnoxious captain to tell her what he expected. “You can wait till….”

     “Angela come on, it’s not like we’re strangers.”

     Her mouth dropped open over James’ remark. She closed it when his hard gaze didn’t reflect anything close to what his words implied. Was he only saying this for their benefit?

     Instinctively, she knew, he was the only one here she could trust. He didn’t want this any more than she did. Why should he? Remembering his warning she gave the only sensible answer. “I do.”

     “Good, a wise decision Missy. I pronounce you, man and wife. You may kiss your bride, James.”

     Before she could object McFarlain pulled her into his arms and captured her lips, smothering her protest in a kiss that did more than just silence her outrage. Too stunned to hide her response, she could only stare at him when he released her.

     The cheers ended her short lived trance, but the shouts coming at them quickly made her seek the very man that just left her totally rattled. Moving to McFarlain’s side she released her breath when his arm came about her waist.   “Alright Welsh, you’ve had your fun.”

     “Not quite James. You never should have crossed me. Your marriage papers will be filed in St. Louis. You can pick your gear up there.”

     James had been afraid Welsh would do this. Right now, seeing the eager men surrounding them, it was probably the best way out for her.

     “Now James.”

     “Can I have my gun?”

     “Sure. Boys, give the man his gun.”

     She watched, too confused to do anything else, as the man passed the captain McFarlain’s gun. The captain emptied the filled chambers of the bullets. Staring, she watched the bullets hit and roll across the deck before he passed the gun over to McFarlain.

     Starting to move away, James stopped and came back to her. Taking her arm, “Come on Angela.”

     Pulling her arm out of his grip, she stared at him in disbelief finally understanding what they all expected.

     “No…you are all crazy.” The shaking of her head wasn’t anything compared to what her knees were doing. “No, I am not going into that River!”

DREAM LOVER

By

Jewel Adams

Time Travel Erotic Romance

When a dream becomes reality, Mackenzie Richardson discovers her fantasy lover is no longer an unattainable image, but a very real, very powerful, flesh and blood man. Mackenzie finds no escape from the handsome but obstinate dream that shatters the fabric of time and thrives in Colonial America, the year of our Lord, 1773.

Aaron Masters confronts the bewitching woman that haunts his dreams, to discover a very real and passionate Mackenzie. Be she God’s own angel or the Devil’s witch, she now belongs to him. Neither the powers of time, nor the perils of man will take away the woman he claims as his wife.

Join Aaron and Mackenzie on a journey of discovery as they confront their love for each other and battle the forces to hold on to the treasure they find. Will they beat the power of time that tries to keep them separated? Or will their love end on the thrust of a pirate’s cutlass or the claim of a British spy that Mackenzie is his wife! The excitement and adventure will hold you spellbound to the explosive conclusion of DREAM LOVER

EXCERPT:  General Audience, Sensual Erotic Time Travel Romance

Available in Print and Ebook:  http://steamheaterotica.com/shbkpgDrLover.html

DREAM LOVER

By

Jewel Adams

CHAPTER 1—Dreams Can’t Be Real!

-Will-Not-Think-Of-Him!” Mackenzie’s fist punched out each word against the pillows. Blowing up at the hair in front of her eyes, she crawled around the bed tugging at the tangled sheets. “Grown women don’t need fantasy lovers, Mac. Grow up!” Falling back into the pillows, she yanked the satin quilt up to her chin.

Sleep, instant sleep, no thoughts, only dreamless sleep. Tossing one way and then the next, she moaned over effort it took to relax. She heard the tiny gears in the clock turning as another number flipped. “This is useless,” she exclaimed, irritation filled her voice.

Mackenzie reached for the phone, but hesitated before dialing Gloria’s number. “That’s right, Mac, call her and ruin all your progress today. You never should have asked her about the dreams.” After suffering Gloria’s prying questions all afternoon, Mackenzie figured it would take some major convincing to get her friend calmed down. One swift kick sent the covers off the bed. She slipped on the matching satin robe to her nightgown and let the soft material fold about her waist. Each determined step sent the satin swirling up and around her legs.

Jerking open the bedroom door, she headed for the kitchen. Absently rubbing the robe’s sleeves, Mac never realized she held her breath until she flipped on the light above the stove. In a scolding whisper she said, “Tea, cinnamon rose—that should do the trick.” The flame shot up under the kettle before she adjusted the knob and moved knowingly about the kitchen, gathering a cup from the cupboard.

“Stop woman! Stop this endless calling!” The deep, decidedly male voice filled the silence in the apartment, paralyzing her into stunned stillness.

Startled by the kettle’s piercing whistle, Mac watched helplessly as the cup slip from her fingers and shatter in the sink. Spinning around she fumbled with the controls on the front of the stove until she killed the flame. Mac wrapped her shaking hands about her waist and took deep breaths, forcing herself to concentrate on the hissing stream of vapor.

“Let me go woman! Stop your witching ways. End this spell you hold me in!” Malice governed the familiar voice that had no right to sound so commanding, so alive.

“No-o-o…” The denial tore through her clenched teeth. She refused to turn toward the low, furious voice. “I won’t see you!” Covering her eyes with her sweaty palms, she felt desperate, “This isn’t happening. You aren’t real! Go away!”

“Release me and I will gladly leave you!”

The threat in the man’s seething response nearly made her cry out. This can’t be real, he was only a dream. “I’m not dreaming now, am I?” She brought her hands away from her eyes and gripped the counter for support. Mac’s frantic whispers swirled through the rising steam, “He’s not here…this isn’t real. I’m not even in bed, so I can’t be sleeping!” To prove her own feeble belief, Mackenzie gingerly reached out to touch the kettle, quickly pulling her fingers back from the heat. “There, see, I am not sleeping. You can’t feel pain when you sleep.” Slowly releasing her breath she said, “He’s not real, Mac.”

“Mac? Tell him to show himself, for I am as real as you are witch. I will be glad to prove it to Mac if he be your protector! Turn around and face me, if you dare!”

Aaron’s annoyance and anger rose in equal degrees as he asked himself again, what manner of woman was this? She was here, the one ruling his mind every waking moment…and the nights; never did he escape her alluring shadow. God, what did I do to deserve this punishment? Maybe it was not God’s work, for surely she was some kind of witch. He never believed in witches and hexes, but nothing else made sense for the strange happenings in his life.

Aaron failed to find any sign of her protector and kept his eyes fixed on the vision before him, knowing he would use physical force to stop her should she try to escape his presence. He wished she would turn to face him, allow him to confirm the image embedded in his mind. His haunting, blue-eyed enchantress could only be the beauty before him. He knew every delicate, enticing curve of that womanly body silhouetted against the soft, hugging gown where those golden curls ended. Soft as spun honey, the golden wisps floated on an invisible breeze, kissing her lovely… “Enticing sorceress!”

Clenching his hands until the knuckles turned white, he resisted the temptation to reach out and touch her. Aaron wanted, beyond reason, to hold the celestial vision that came to him so lovingly, seeking his warmth. Her enchanting curves brandished promises of passion born of innocence. He would wake, his body soaked with sweat, his cock steeled with his need to possess her. Every night the callings grew stronger, more ardent, filling his hours with pure, sweet torture; always she remained elusive, just beyond his grasp. So aggressive was her magic she began to come to him at all hours, haunting the daylight, casting her shadow about him until he thought he would go insane; demented, because he alone could see her haunting image. Aaron grew obsessed with the burning desire to experience and possess the libertine vision, regardless of the consequence. An act he suspected he would burn in hell over, for only a witch could be doing this to him.

Aaron Masters was not a man to be trifled with. He fought her insistent pleas to come to her and the battle grew fierce. The internal battle of wills raged inside him. Tonight he vowed to destroy the hold she could wield over him. Dropping his barriers, he listened to her soft beguiling pleas, letting them grow stronger and stronger, until their intensity hauled him through the darkness.

She stood with him now, no longer an unreachable illusion, but a woman quivering from the same force that brought them together. As easy as reaching out and capturing her appeared, Aaron refused to let her control him. He wanted answers from her, but seeing her, being so close, almost proved to be more temptation than he could withstand.

“Woman, I said turn and face me. I have answered your summons. Now you will answer mine.”

EMMA’S TIMELESS LOVE

By

Jewel Adams

Historic Time Travel Erotic Romance

      Hostess of the Grande Ball to unveil the museum’s renovated plantation, Emma Browning never suspects a mysterious mirror will whisk her back in time to 1825 New Orleans. Neither does she expect to find herself engaged to a total stranger. Unable to explain her sudden appearance in this breathtakingly, handsome man’s life, Devon Chandler rather believe Emma is the bait in a conspiracy to destroy him, than in her outlandish claim she is from the future!

      Join Emma and Devon as they discover their awakening love only to face its destruction when Devon’s enemy kidnaps Emma. She escapes her captor, but falls prey to the evil and powerful Andre La Pointe. To protect Devon and their unborn child, Emma agrees to marry the man she fears!

       Forced into a deathbed marriage, Emma refuses to give up and battles time to reclaim Devon’s love. A love now buried in betrayal to save the man too stubborn to see the truth.

EMMA’S TIMELESS LOVE will carry you on a journey as unique as the love found in the realms of time!

EXCERPT: General Audience, Erotic Time Travel Romance

Available in Print and Ebook: http://steamheaterotica.com/shbkpgEmmaTLove.html

EMMA’S TIMELESS LOVE

By

Jewel Adams

CHAPTER 1— The Bargain

What was the old man up to? Was he hiding sweet damsels in his chambers? Had she broken free, braved his wrath to join the ball?

An angel of gold stood teetering on the landing…almost as if she feared what might happen should she move. Devon’s attention devoured every enchanting nuance of the unexpected vision, deciding that only a goddess could be so bewitching. Shimmering in a seductive wave, the soft glittering material of her gown pulsed like a second skin over the boundless rise and fall of her full breasts. Tantalizing to gaze upon, their silken imprisonment struck a blaze alive inside of him. The valley of tempting cleavage hinted at the concealed mounds of vulnerable flesh. A woman full of lush seductive curves stood there in desirable perfection for only his gaze to drink in.

Flexing out his tight fist, Devon wanted beyond reason to touch and feel the ethereal beauty. Caress the silken tresses that must have spun the enchantress’ gown of golden threads. Where is God’s name did she come from? And why hadn’t he seen her before now?

Trying to control his strange reaction to the woman became impossible. To his own astonishment Devon admitted he wanted her. The strength of his conviction told him nothing would prevent him from seeking her out.

Moving cautiously up the stairs, something told him she was oblivious to his presence and her surroundings. Frightening her more than she appeared to be wouldn’t do. What drew him to her was so out of character for Devon Chandler, he didn’t dare seek an answer.

Stopping before her, on the step below the landing, Devon looked into the liquid pools of unseeing light. They held the damp green of the thickest woods, with velvet rose petal lips that parted as if to catch morning dew drops…a mouth waiting to be kissed.

He marveled over the deep coppery lashes and brows that framed her lovely eyes, such a different shade than her sun kissed hair. Red and gold all spun together in a soft, rich thickness. Again he quelled the need to reach out and crush the curls in his ardent palm.

How did one wake a sleeping beauty? For the lady was undoubtedly bewildered. Maybe she was truly an angel, lost without wings to escape her destiny.

Pulled beyond his will, Devon’s dark head lowered in infinite care. Breathlessly he brushed his lips across her silken softness. Her startled gasp was barely audible. He watched in fascination as her thick eyelashes fluttered, wanting to shout with joy when the green jewels sparked in awakening life.

Deliberately, he moved closer, inhaling the sweet exotic scent of her, like wild flowers from the untamed ocean islands he’d seen in his voyages. He thought the lady as a whole to be unique, a rare commodity. Seeing the flash of fire stirring to life he knew a very vibrant, untamed passion trembled inside the ivory beauty. One he wanted to sample and knew he would fight to control. Devon’s body shook under the force of his admission.

“The lady awakes.”

Hearing his words left her confused and uncertain. She stared in disbelief at the mysterious presence towering above her. His eyes were so dark, like night shadows, yet alive and warm in sheltering strength. Emma wanted to drown in their swirling riptide, allow them to destroy all the fears.

Fear! The shock waves drove the breath into her lungs. Images and sensations rushed through her. She remembered the thrill of success she felt over the compliments for the Ball. And her gown, how it made her feel and the way she floated through those dances with Mr. Albeit until she was exhausted by the excitement. She’d gone upstairs to catch her breath during the band’s break. The memory fell around her like a dark cloak…maneuvering the bulk of the gown’s skirt on the stairs left Emma feeling light headed. She wanted to groan when she remembered that all the upstairs rooms were locked for the plantation’s grand tour taking place later this evening. Emma legs nearly gave out before she reached the sitting room in the far hall; as gingerly as possible she navigated the wide skirt around the velvet stool and sat in relief over the support. Holding the gown’s hoops down, she found they didn’t fly up in her face as she expected. Taking deep breaths she tried to calm the frantic pulsing at her temples. Thankfully no one else was in the room. Feeling a little steadier, Emma took an absent look about the small sitting room.

“But it shouldn’t be here!” Gasping, she stared at the mirror. Shaking her head to clear it, the unwanted discovery didn’t disappear from the wall behind the door. Angry that her directions had been ignored, Emma stood stiffly before it, her small hands gripped tight at her sides.

“It has to be moved to the nursery.” She swayed under the urgency the conviction struck within her. Moving towards it she held back from touching the repulsive mirror, as if she feared the dreadful thing.

Scolding herself, her hands rose to take hold of the sides, but it wouldn’t budge. Recalling that it took two men to get it up the stairs, Emma realized her efforts were useless. Before she could release the mirror, a sudden sweep of chilling cold shot through her hands and up her arms, penetrating every inch of her body. Stumbling back from the contact, her hand rose to silence the scream wanting release. There, in the mirror, her reflection became surrounded by a swirl of movement. Flashes of scenes raced around her, too fast, they all blurred together, leaving her as dizzy as if she were on a fast amusement ride. Closing her eyes to fight the sensation, Emma gripped the vanity to stop herself from reeling.

Fighting the terror trying to seize her, she used all her courage to stare back at the mirror. Stealing a cautious look, she felt the relief flood through her. Only her image stared back. “I was just dizzier than I realized…that’s all it could be.”

Feeling somewhat better for finding an excuse, she straightened herself, wishing the lingering fear would go away. Strains of music drifted into the room. She needed to get back. But before she could make herself move, something odd about the unfamiliar tune caught her attention. “A harpsichord?” Funny she didn’t remember seeing one in the ensemble.

Moving to the door, Emma came to a halt before it. Turning her head as if she would shatter, her gaze rose ever so slowly, halting in shock as they encountered the wall lantern.

“An oil lamp? But they are electric…” The shaking started in her toes, moving at an alarming rate, causing a violent shudder to pass through her as if she’d been struck by lightning.

Her hand closed over the door handle, frantically yanking on it to escape. When the door finally gave way she forced her numb legs to obey her command to move forward. Pulling the door shut behind her, she stood there trying to catch her breath; from somewhere the realization came over her that she was hyperventilating. She concentrated on taking slower breaths, but what she faced in the hall defeated her attempt for control.

Shaking her head in denial, Emma stared in disbelief. Gone was the bright airy hallway. Dark wood and heavy carpet lent a malevolent feeling to the fear seizing her. Here too, were oil lamps mounted on the walls.

“This is crazy, some sick joke!” But voicing excuses that couldn’t possibly have been carried out in such a short time filled her with mounting panic. “Calm, stay calm Emma.” Hysterics might alleviate the tension coiling in her chest, but it certainly wouldn’t help her.

“Downstairs …” Yes, everything would be fine once she rejoined the others.

Each step belied her words. The unfamiliar surroundings, though structurally similar to Sleeping Oaks, held no reassurance. Shivering over the screams echoing inside her head, Emma knew she was in trouble!

The memory slipped away like a dream as a more urgent awareness captured her attention. Where she now found herself seemed a minor inconvenience when compared to the man standing in front of her. In amazed silence her fingers rose to touch her lips, marveling how the warmth of his lips lingered long after their absence.

Had he kissed her? Looking for confirmation at the man, his roguish humor sent creases out from the corners of his eyes. Yes, he did and he wanted her to know. The truth flamed her cheeks, deepening the pleased look he maintained over her.

“Yes, I think the lady is awake. Does she have a name?” Devon swallowed his reaction to the slight rise of her left brow, knowing the reason behind the question entering those gorgeous eyes.

Without thought she answered. “Em…Emma Browning.”

“Miss?”

“Yes, of course.” His deep laughter startled her, making her glare back at him.

“The lady has spirit as well.” Devon found the prospect intriguing and highly exciting. “May I escort you to the ball, Miss Browning?”

Emma struggled for a moment to control her whirling emotions. It was hard not to give in to the panic. He extended his arm for her hand. No other gentleman this evening had been this formal…nor so intimate. Struggling with the compelling desire to run, Emma decided she might very well need the support he unknowingly offered, for the unsettling vision hadn’t gone away. In fact, it was in all ways as close to reality as living could get!

Taking a closer look at him, she wondered if she could trust this mirage…was he a dream? Did she honestly have any other choice? “I accept your offer…under one condition.”

“Conditions, Madame, usually require a counter promise.”

Raising her brow at the serious change in his tone, she nodded cautiously, wondering if she’d just made a terrible mistake. But then, wasn’t she already in the biggest catastrophe of her life? “Mine, sir, is that you do not leave my side, no matter how strange you may find my company.”

Devon’s gaze drove into hers with unflagging intensity. He suspected her request held the lady’s warning and meant much more than formality implied. But he had no desire to let her take flight. Nodding his assent, he never released her intent look. “I hope you mean that, Emma, for I have no intention of doing otherwise.”

Seeing her tentative agreement, Devon turned to proceed before her senses or his fully returned. For what they were mutually agreeing to was unconventional to say the least. And convention was something Devon rarely contested.

Her hesitation prevented him from continuing. Looking at her, seeing the wariness tightening her large eyes, he feared he might have lost the advantage.

“And you, sir, what is the counter offer you have for me?”

Brazen little wench. Bowing in salute to her honest effrontery, “First, the name is Devon Chandler.”

Emma acknowledged his pronouncement. The sudden hardening in his dark glance made her want to flee, but the fear for what she believed waited below stilled her nerves and sent her chin a little higher in defiance. “And.…”

He watched her, noting every change in that beautifully sculptured face. Admiration swelled in his chest for her control. Her gaze was far too expressive, exposing her fear. He wondered how far her desperation would drive her. And what put her in this position? An event so powerful it allowed him to play his advantage and manipulate her to his will, even when he instinctively knew it went against the lady’s delicate senses to do so?

“And, my lovely, you will neither leave my side, nor refuse my company once we descend these stairs. Do you agree?”

Her gaze flashed in justified indignation over his bold request. The unveiled threat he posed would have been clear, no matter where she found herself to be. If she had a choice she would have enjoyed spitting in his glorious face and denying the power he held. Eyeing him, then the stairs, Emma swallowed the heated retort she wanted to give. Would he be the worst of two evils? If this was a vision or nightmare, she prayed she would wake before she reached the bottom. Closing her eyes, she gave the only answer available. “I accept your terms.”

Opening them, she met what she felt might be shock lighting those magnetic black depths. “I wonder, Devon, which of us will regret our pact first?”

Rather stunned by her frankness, Devon let his laughter quickly replace the misgiving she’d glimpsed. “Ah, Emma, if this is any indication of what I have just committed to, I will never find regret in your company. Shall we join the festivities?”

The time for hesitation was over. Silently she prayed his humor would not disappear, for each step and the view it afforded, drove home the suffocating fear over her own mortality. Odd, how she suddenly thought of another man; her dance partner at the Ball…Emma laughed softly over the roughish wit spoken by her handsome dance partner. Her smile broadened, oh yes, she was happy. The ballroom glittered in colors as he swirled her effortlessly around the dance floor. A councilman from one of the parishes, Monsieur Albeit discovered her knowledge of the colonial dance steps equaled his own and thankfully captured her as his partner. Mr. Albeit was not only a good dancer, but his dark looks and aquiline features made the evening perfect for Emma. They talked of many subjects, but mostly of Sleeping Oaks. It seemed the plantation always held the locals’ interest. Fascinated, Emma proved an avid listener to the man’s knowledge of the place.

“Everyone has always wondered why the place sat vacant, until now.”

“Didn’t anyone live here?”

“Non, not since Eighteen twenty-six.”

This revelation disturbed Emma, causing her to miss a step.

“Who were the owners then?”

“A puzzle many have tried to untangle, but one that is as elusive as its past. Whoever it was seemed to have vanished.”

Seeing Emma’s surprise he continued, “Ah but, in this area there were many disappearances. I am surprised your museum did not know the folklore.”

“They might, but I’m afraid, I don’t. I am a little out of my league at the present.”

“Miss Browning whatever your expertise, you have shown New Orleans they have room for improvement.” Kissing the back of her hand, he presented her with a formal bow. His dark gaze twinkled wickedly over the high color his flamboyant act stirred to life in her…

The memory’s sudden release made Emma feel as if she were standing at the edge of a precipice; her fingers tightened on the strong arm beneath her palm. Devon Chandler, not Monsieur Albeit, stood at her side. She almost giggled over the realization. Nerves always did this to her. She should tell him of course. Taking a cautious look at him…no, she didn’t think he would find any humor in the fact that she believed she had just crossed the threshold of time!

Keeping her legs under her became a challenge as he led her to the familiar, yet alien ballroom. The only thing stilling her panic was the tight hold Devon Chandler maintained on her hand. Emma’s head was full of all the crazy thoughts bombarding her. One stood out above all the others…somehow she stepped back in time!

Meeting the questioning stares as they entered the ballroom was the worst experience of her life. Searching the sea of strange faces quickly reinforced her growing belief over what was happening to her. Unfortunately, she was a stranger to these people. At the moment, knowing what to do or say escaped her capabilities. She could only look. And look she did, at everything familiar that wasn’t.

This was Sleeping Oaks, or a marvelous copy, but it wasn’t her plantation and neither was it her century…

A silent, numbing shock, enlarged those overly bright green eyes as he watched her. The small quivers assaulting her tiny form increased in their velocity. Whatever brought her here, he feared she’d not expected this, nor did he think she welcomed the sight. The fact she was obviously a stranger to one and all oddly eased his own tension.

Quickly making his decision, nothing was going to stop Devon from doing what he felt became the only option open to the lady clinging to his side for protection. That she didn’t realize she sought him barely entered in to his decision. “Emma, I am here beside you as I promised. Are you still with me?”

The man’s softly spoken declaration chipped through the ice surrounding her senses. Her fingers ached under the pressure she used to hold onto his arm. “Yes, Devon.”

“Good. Shall we greet our host? Your late arrival has stirred all’s curiosity, not that I mind…I’m enjoying their discomfort. In fact, before the evening is out their shock ought to take them into next season.”

His words made little sense to her befuddled state, but then, who wouldn’t be confused in her position. A dream so real she felt, smelled and breathed it. But even in the madness, a strange warning came pounding in its urgency, demanding she pay attention. Holding back his advance toward the man he undoubtedly referred to as their host. “Devon, why will they be shocked?” Her thoughts were racing trying to assimilate everything at once. Did he know about her? Would he tell them she didn’t belong? Tell them what…she was a time jumper!

“My dear Emma, remember our pact?”

Impatient with his humor and her fright, she hissed at him. “Of course I do.”

“We will see, my lady, we will see…”

Before she could obtain any further clarification, the group before them appeared to converge as a pack. Visions of wolves, moving in for the kill, forced her closer to her strange protector’s side.

Can you believe it! Scarlet Raven is now available in print and ebooks I’m so thrilled and can’t wait to get this out there to my readers. Too many delays on this one, but it is finally here and what a great story. You can read the excerpt at: http://steamheaterotica.com/shbkpgScRaven.html
Come on over to our Yahoo Group for a chance to win Scarlet Raven and my other books. Lots of contests and fun this weekend:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/classactsteamheatbooks/promote

SCARLET RAVEN

By

Jewel Adams

Corin McCloud stows away on a refurbished schooner—the Raven. The journey barely begins when a violent storm rolls over the schooner, throwing her world upside down and lands her in Charlotte Amalie, 1725.

Rogan Drake spent the last two years building his reputation as the infamous pirate—Dragon, in order to revenge his brother’s murder. He forgoes following the pirate Billings, to keep an eye on a girl that just entered the city. She certainly wasn’t from here, not dressed so…openly. “Brave little woman, but hardly wise.” The exotic shape of her eyes reminded him of a wild cat. Add in the sensual blend of amber and chocolate, and a man could drown in their depth. “Are you untamed my little stranger?”

Can Rogan give up his quest to revenge his brother’s death in order to keep Corin safe? Will she accept her new life as his wife? Can they both survive the anger of Black Diamond, the most notorious pirate in the Caribbean?

Time Travel Historical Erotic Romance

ISBN: 978-1-935048-11-4 1-935048-11-2 Print

ISBN: 978-1-935048-20-6 1-935048-20-1 Ebook

Word Count: 92,141

EBook $6.49

Trade Paperback

$11.49 plus shipping.