Monday, August 13, 2012

A Duchess Monday Featuring Samantha Grace

Today I have a very fun and adventurous historical romance to share with you! I've been sitting on this one for a while now waiting for the right time to share it and this week calls for some excitement to jump start it. 

Today I'm featuring Samantha Grace's Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel. When I read this book back at the beginning of the year I had a blast reading about a heroine that brought so much energy to the story. The hero was just as interesting and brought a whole new meaning to the word determination. Together they made a smashing blend of romance and fun.

I've worked up a great snippet reading along with the book details for anyone that wants to pick up a copy for themselves. 

Happy Reading!

Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel
Samantha Grace
Beau Monde, Book 1 
Published Feb 2012
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca

Back of the book:

Debonair bachelor Lord Andrew Forest lives for pleasure and offers no apologies. But he receives a dose of his own medicine when his family's entrancing houseguest beds him, then disappears without so much as a by-your-leave. He'd like to teach the little vixen a thing or two about how to love and man...if he can find her..
After the dashing man of her dreams is revealed as a lying scoundrel, heiress Lana Hilary is ready to seek a match with a respectable gentleman-if only they weren't so dreadfully boring. Unable to rein in her bold nature for long, Lana flirts with trouble and finds herself entangled with exactly the type of man she's vowed to avoid.

Click below to add this title to your Goodreads or Order in paperback or e-Book:


Lana held Phoebe at arm’s length. “I had no idea you were back from the continent. Oh, how I have missed you.”
Phoebe laughed, her glow originating from someplace inside of her. Lana had never seen her friend look so radiant. Apparently, travel agreed with her. “And I have missed you, Miss Hillary. You haven’t changed a bit.”
Lana might be the same, but something was different about Phoebe, though she couldn’t for the life of her say what the difference was. “When did you arrive in London?”
“Yesterday. I apologize for not calling on you. Our Stephan has been ill, and then Richard came down with a chill this afternoon.”
“I hope it is nothing serious.”
Phoebe squeezed her hand. “It is a cold, but the doctor assured me they are hearty and will recover. Still, I didn’t want to leave either one, but Richard insisted I attend Lady Eldridge’s ball. He knows another minute away from your company would have been intolerable.”
“Don’t tell me you are the cause of my misery this evening,” an amused voice piped up from behind Lana.
A shiver ran up her spine, her body recognizing the baritone voice before her mind did. She spun around to face the ne’er-do-well from the garden, her breath catching when he bestowed a slow, sinful smile on her.
Double drat. He was so very dashing up close.
Lana pulled herself up to her full height, which was impressive for a lady, and tossed an icy glance in his direction before ignoring him completely. Perhaps his handsome looks made other women swoon, but Lana refused to turn into a ninny at the sight of his perfect white teeth and evenly proportioned lips.
She had been dancing with dashing gentlemen for the last two seasons, and never once had she swooned. Of course, those gentlemen simply sought her assistance with their courtships of other ladies while her rescuer desired something different, something that caused a fluttering in her chest and made her knees weak. Nevertheless, she never swooned and wouldn’t start at this juncture, even if her head did feel a little fuzzy.
Phoebe tapped the scoundrel’s arm with her fan in a familiar gesture as he sidled up to her. “There you are. I had come to believe you had deserted me.”
Lana balked. Surely, Lady Phoebe wasn’t one of his other women. Why, she had a perfectly lovely husband at home.
“Desert you, Pheebs? Never.” The rogue flashed his dratted smile again as his gaze settled on Lana. “Have I earned the privilege of an introduction?”
Phoebe placed a hand on his arm. “Please, forgive my lapse in manners, Drew. Miss Hillary, may I present my brother-in-law, Lord Andrew Forest?”
Egads. Drew was Phoebe’s relation? Perhaps Lana would faint after all.
She curtsied. “My lord.”
Drew—Lord Andrew—gathered her hand in his and placed a kiss on her gloved knuckles. Amusement sparked in his blue eyes, the same shade as forget-me-nots. “Pardon me, Miss Hillary, but I believe we have met.”
Lana swallowed wrong and launched into a coughing jag.
Phoebe stepped forward and patted her back. “Good heavens, Lana. Are you all right?”
Lana drew in a shaky breath. “We… we’ve met?” Her voice squeaked. “I believe you are mistaken, my lord.”
“No, I’m certain we’ve met. Let me think. Where did we make our first acquaintance?” More dimples. The scoundrel was enjoying himself. He snapped his fingers. “I recall now. Last season your parents hosted a dinner party, one of those rare occasions when I was not otherwise engaged.”
Lana almost collapsed with relief. “Of course. Yes, lovely to see you again.”
She searched her mind to place Lord Andrew before their run-in tonight. Honestly, how could she ever forget the gentleman? He was quite gorgeous in his black formal dress, although he knew he cut a pleasing figure if his smug smile was any indication.
Lana returned his smile with a weak one. “I apologize, my lord, but what were you saying a moment ago?”
Phoebe gazed toward her brother-in-law with fondness. “Drew has been complaining all evening about escorting me to the ball.”
Lord Andrew shrugged shyly, a complete act on his part. There had been nothing shy about his wandering hands in the garden.
“Do you oppose dancing, my lord?” Lana feigned naïveté, suspecting his reluctance had more to do with jilted lovers ambushing him in the gardens.
“If I may be frank, Miss Hillary, I oppose the marriage market. I try to avoid it at all costs.”


Thanks for stopping in! I hope you enjoyed a little down time with Lord Andrew Forest and heiress Lana Hilary!


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