MIDNIGHT CALLER
Currently a free promotion is running on
my hot historical romance Midnight Caller. The first novella in the Moonlight
Romance series is free on Amazon and iTunes.
I love star-crossed
lovers. Romeo and Juliet is probably the most famous example.
Although I much prefer when the lovers find a way to make their forbidden
romance work! I always like to root for the underdog, and as individualist I
get excited when characters dare to break society’s rules.
I write historical
romance… and while star-crossed lovers can exist in every genre they are more
prevalent in historical romance. A common off-shoot of this trope is loving
above one’s station. Whether it is the maid falling in love with the
millionaire, the jester falling in love with the princess or the commoner
falling in love with the socialite they can all make me sigh with pleasure.
Since this is my
favorite trope I think it is only natural that I have tried my hand at it.
Midnight Caller uses this trope, but it
is actually based on a true incident I read a history book. :)
Blurb:
When Emma Bennett’s husband dies in a
carriage accident in 1865, she is released from her loveless, controlling
marriage. Now she has a chance to find happiness and raise a family. But before
she begins courting again she wants to experience her freedom. At the advice of
the leading socialite in town, she takes a black lover to fulfill her sexual
needs. His raw, masculine power awakens feelings she didn’t know existed. After
the first touch she craves more.
Frederick works as a roustabout by day
and moonlights as a prostitute. He knows better than to fall in love with his
white client, but Emma enchants him the first time he calls on her. To keep
them both safe, he works hard to put up barriers. Unfortunately, he can’t
protect Emma from the slimy Mr. Hawthorne, who wants her as his bride.
Frederick vows to keep her safe even if his forbidden love costs him his life.
Excerpt:
“You know, Mr. Hawthorne is interested
in you.”
Emma gave a slight nod. Everyone in town
knew Mr. Hawthorne was interested in her. Hank had forbidden the telegraph
operator to come around her again, but now Hank was gone, would he pursue her?
“Mr. Hawthorne is a respectable man,”
Mrs. Dimshire said.
A throbbing pain began above Emma’s left
eye. Surely, the old lady wouldn’t try to set them up. Out of all the eligible
bachelors in town…with his thinning auburn hair and long, homely face, he was
as attractive as a gnarled tree. She couldn’t imagine sleeping next to him. Her
lungs compressed, making each breath a chore.
“He isn’t my type,” Emma squeaked out.
He was worse than Hank. He would be more than demanding and controlling. He
would be jealous and overbearing, maybe even violent.
She picked up her cup again, hoping the
tea would be soothing. It wasn’t. Her hands shook and she set the cup down
before she spilled it on the white lace tablecloth.
Mrs. Dimshire’s wrinkled hand grabbed
her wrist tenderly. Emma’s heart punched her ribs. The touch was probably meant
to be comforting, but she felt trapped.
“Do you know how I get through each day
without Connor?”
Emma shook her head.
“Whenever I feel the need to have a man
next to me, I satisfy that need.”
Emma’s eyes bulged. Had the leading
socialite in Louisville just said she shared her bed with a variety of men? But
there would have been gossip, surely. No one had said a word.
Mrs. Dimshire’s eyes were sincere and
she spoke as matter-of-factly as if she had just ordered a cut of beef from the
butcher.
“I know you are not ready to remarry.”
The older woman’s fingers slipped away from her skin. “But I thought you might
like some male company once in a while.”
A thrill rushed from Emma’s head to her
toes. Being with a man, no-strings attached. All the power and freedom she wanted.
She could control the affair.
“Ah, I see the glow in your eyes,” Mrs.
Dimshire said. “Yes, it is exciting and invigorating for a woman to take
charge. I can tell you where to go. No one will ever find out.” Mrs. Dimshire
paused and leaned back in her brown-and-burgundy striped chair. “And I trust
you will keep my secret.”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course.” Going against
Mrs. Dimshire would be social suicide.
“There is one thing though that might
dissuade you,” Mrs. Dimshire said and then dabbed her lips with a linen napkin.
“The men are colored.”
If you haven’t checked out my Moonlight
Romance series yet here is your chance!
Buy Links:
Bio:
Haley Whitehall lives in Washington
State where she enjoys all four seasons and the surrounding wildlife. She
writes historical fiction and historical romance set in the 19th century U.S.
When she is not researching or writing, she plays with her cats, watches the
Western and History Channels, and goes antiquing. She is hoping to build a time
machine so she can go in search of her prince charming. A good book, a cup of
coffee, and a view of the mountains make her happy.
Where to find Haley Whitehall:
Thank you for hosting me. It is always a pleasure to be on your blog. :)
ReplyDeleteIt's lovely to have you here. Thank you for dropping by and letting us know about your promotion.
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