Christine Young
Excerpt Heat
Level: 1
Book Heat
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REVIEW:
Title: Allura
Genre: Historical Author: Christine Young
Reviewer:
Chrissy Dionne Reviewer Email: RJChrissyDionne@yahoo.com
Christine
Young’s ALLURA is a delightful historical novel full of suspense, lovable
characters, humor and a budding romance between two characters determined not
to fall in love. Allura and Hunter’s stubborn, determined natures allowed for
some interesting scenes as they attempted to get one up on each other. As a
modern day woman I felt bad for Allura because technically her husband would
dictate every aspect of her life and the freedom she loves would be a thing of
the past. Hunter is unbending as far as to how he believes a wife should behave
but falling in love changes him and his perception of Allura. Hunter and Allura
are the main focus of this story but there are secondary characters whom I
absolutely adored and would love to revisit in future novels (hint, hint).
Especially the youngest sister Aiden and Hunter’s trusted friend Blade. He
doesn’t believe in love and she’s determined to do whatever’s necessary to get
him to notice her. SNIPPET— Allura has come to treasure her freedom and the
adventures she shares with her sisters and her cousins but her father’s
decision to find her a husband threatens that freedom. He’s placed an ad in the
times in search of a man strong and smart enough to discover where exactly it
is that the girls venture when they leave the safety of the castle.
BLURB:
Allura McClellan is horrified by her father’s decision to take out an
ad in the Times awarding her to the man strong enough and smart enough to win
her hand and uncover her secrets. She’s an intelligent young woman who takes
great delight in the freedom allotted to her by her father. She’s well aware
that marriage would effectively curtail the adventures she’s shared with her
sisters and cousins.
Hunter Gray is nothing like the other men who’ve arrived to vie for
Allura’s hand in marriage and everything that goes along with it. However, he
is the first to refuse to concede defeat and pursue her despite her attempts to
disguise her true appearance. It’s her temperament that is of more concern to
him than her looks. Hunter has worked all his life with the hope of someday
owning his own land. Now that it looks like there’s a very real possibility
that everything he’s ever wanted is within reach nothing is going to deter him
– including Miss Allura’s disagreeable disposition.
Eddington, Scotland 1815
"You can’t plan to wed me to
that--that man down there!" Allura McClellan’s heart thundered and lodged
in her throat. Balled into fists her hands trembled. "You promised I could
marry for love. I thought when the last man failed to discover this imaginary secret
you think I have, you would stop this craziness. I thought you would take the
ad out of the Times and the other papers."
From the boxing ring below, fist met
flesh, the sound echoing throughout. Hunter Gray whirled and ducked. He guarded
his face to block the stinging blows his opponent rained down upon him. He spun
and ducked again. The man he fought countered the attack, but he did not move
fast enough. Hunter’s next jab was so fast and so hard the other man didn’t
block the punch. The man staggered backwards, blood running from his eye. Men
yelled and cheered for the two combatants. Hunter paused and spoke to the man
he practiced with before the match continued once more.
Allura saw her life as she had planned it
slip away as if it was grains of sand in an hour glass. She stopped pacing and
watched the men below. She turned on her father. "The ad in the
Times--giving me away to any man--you have gone too far. A marriage of
convenience is barbaric. You promised." For a moment, she closed her eyes.
She did not want to acknowledge anything that went on here. It was not her
fault she could not find a man she loved. What horrific bit of bad luck had
found her?
The laird cleared his throat.
"Perhaps I have not gone far enough or soon enough. And the ad did not
promise you to just any man. He must be strong enough and smart enough to win
your hand."
It was not Allura’s nature to allow
others to rule her fate. “These men,” she waved her hand in the air,
frustration sweeping recklessly within. "They don’t want me. They come for
one reason only. They are greedy and hungry for power. You have taught me
everything I need to know. I can run your estate and all of your holdings. I’ve
studied endless hours. I know the men who work for you. I swear I’ll defy your
wishes. At the altar I will say no."
The McClellan’s grin faded as quickly as
it had appeared and without further thought, he said, "Perhaps not, you
are beautiful lass--one with rare promise. And," he stroked his chin,
"no matter how much book learning a woman has she cannot dictate her own
life. It is up to the men in her life to make sure she is happy and provided
for."
A strained silence followed. She sagged
against the stone wall. As if sensing her vulnerable position, she stiffened.
Outraged and furious she looked upon her father. "They are money grubbers
and want your land--our land. They have no right to any of your estate."
The McClellan held back for a moment,
seemingly aware there was more than just a little truth in what Allura said.
"How indeed?" he questioned her. Yet his smile was tight, forced.
"I grow old. I only want this land secured and my daughters happy before I
die. You are twenty-two. I have given you ample opportunity to fall in love. I
thought it time to bring new blood to this land, a new man. I thought perhaps
one would take your fancy."
"That man," she began. Her hand
shook when she pointed at the man who danced and whirled avoiding each blow as
if he dallied in child's play. She trembled so violently she could not speak.
“Is an Englishman.”
Christine Young
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level:
BLURB:
Amorica Hepburn was sent to London to find a husband. However, finding
a man was the last item on her agenda. With her two cousins, Amorica wagers she
can dissuade her suitor before the others. Despite her efforts she discovers a
chemistry that cannot be denied. Suddenly she is the arrogant man's wife,
pledged to a marriage neither desire. But swept off to his ancestral home above
the Dover cliffs and into his strong embrace, Amorica is soon possessed by a
raging passion for the husband she had vowed to despise…
Damian
Andrews couldn't afford to trust the emerald-eyed spitfire who happened upon
his secret. Amorica's hatred of all men of his kind only inflames the war that
rages between them. Still, he can not control the intense desire his stubborn
bride inspires, or make her surrender to his will until he has conquered the
headstrong beauty on the battlefield of love…
EXCERPT
Coast of England 1816
"It's a bloody cursed day."
Damian Andrews swept the child into his arms and waded through the pounding
surf to the beach. He braced himself against the out-going current then sloshed
through the crashing waves. Salt spray clung to the wind, stinging his
nostrils.
Damian turned. Beneath his ribs, his heart pounded
the cadence hard and fast. He swore again as he watched the captain shout
orders to his crew. The French brandy that was supposed to have arrived this
night would have to wait.
Standing in the longboat, the captain of
the ship that brought the brandy as well as the political refugees from the
Germanies held a torch aloft--the only light in the vast darkness. "Hurry,
laddie. We have human cargo tonight and the tide is changing."
A little girl whimpered.
Damian pulled her into his arms, bent on protecting
her at all cost.
"It's all right. You will all be
together soon." The smuggling of French brandy was a cover for the cause
that meant so much to him. Religious and political refugees--at times it seemed
they came in droves. All were seeking a better life. A life of freedom.
"Your mother is coming as well as your baby brother. You will all be
safe."
Damian looked to the captain. "The
father?" he queried.
"He didn't come with his family. He
said he had one more thing to do. You must hurry."
The child leaned into Damian, her little
face nuzzling his shoulder, her silent sobs gut-wrenching. He pulled her
closer, cursing at the elements as well as mankind and wishing he could find a
way to shield the tiny child from all harm. He knew the feat to be impossible.
The little girl touched a place in his heart and for a moment filled that
broken space with light. Yes, the mother would be with her children, but why
had the father stayed where his life was in peril? He had learned long ago one
could come to regret rash actions. And he'd also learned one could lose all
chance at love in one instant.
Lord, but he'd lost his concentration and
in losing that, he could well lose his edge.
No secrets-- no lies. The thought haunted
him.
His life was a lie, but he would change
nothing until his penance was paid. A constant drizzle soaked him to the skin.
The wind sent goose bumps rising on his arms. He reached shore and handed the
girl over to Aric Lakeland, a trusted friend and accomplice in this night's
work, then turned and walked back to the longboat. Her baby brother as well as
her mother waited.
He had never meant to get involved. It was
the greatest of ironies that he was here now. He'd been a man who loved his
family and his home.
He'd been content but that seemed years
ago--a life time.
It felt like centuries.
The captain spoke, his voice hushed.
"Hurry, now, Master Damian.
It's the watch. They are due to ride by
here any time now. The patrols have doubled these last few weeks. I fear it's
not as safe as it used to be." The captain handed over the baby wrapped in
blankets. Damian stared at the child. The babe couldn't be a year old. The
child didn't make a sound, not even a whimper.
This was injustice, a travesty. He looked
at the mother. "Can you make it on your own?" He prayed the fragile
lady standing before him had more courage than she appeared to have. She nodded
and with the captain's help, she stepped into the ocean, struggling for
balance. Yet her shoulders were squared and her spine stiff.
As soon as the captain placed the babe in
Damian's arms and the three of them were headed for land, he gave orders. Two
sailors rowed out to sea, moving toward the black ship that rose and fell on
the distant waves.
On a cliff above, the dark silhouette of a
third man, Ryder McClaren, could be seen for a brief moment. He waved his arms
then disappeared into the shadows once more.
"Hurry," Damian bade the mother,
his hand resting on the small of her back, urging her forward.
