Release Blitz For Kristen Vayden's A Night Like No Other

Title: A Night Like No Other: The True Love Story of Mary and Joseph
Author: Kristin Vayden
Genre: Christmas Romance Novella
Publisher: Blue Tulip Publishing

What if…
The greatest love started with the greatest love story?
What if…
It was more than just a cold, arranged marriage?
What if…
Joseph had adored Mary all his life, but never thought himself worthy?
What if…
Mary thought that Joseph could never see her as more than Caleb’s little sister?
What if …
It was nothing like you thought you knew…

A child.
Not his.
Heart broken, rejection burning through him, eating him alive Joseph faces the only option available. Divorce. Though the thought alone is worse than death.

Alone, everyone convinced you’re a liar and carrying another man’s child.
Sent away, rejected by the only one you’ve ever loved.
Mary grasps onto the truth that no one else believes…

A love like no other.
But like all truly incredible things, it was fought for, bled for, a love desperate enough to sacrifice everything for the hope of something greater.
Someone Greater.
God kindled a romance that would be legendary…that would defy any obstacle in it’s path.
Leading to the birth of the Savior of the World, on A Night Like No Other…

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“Yeah, I guess I’ll…” She took a step back, a deep blush growing on her face.

Say something!

“I—” He cleared his throat. He was going to take a risk and pray it didn’t destroy their friendship. He couldn’t lose that, it was the only piece of her he could claim. But the chance at more than friendship? He’d risk it every time. “I’m glad you aren’t interested in Micah. He’s a great guy it’s just that he’s not…” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck.

“He’s not?” Mary paused and turned toward him, her eyes glowing with an emotion he didn’t dare evaluate.

“He’s not… me,” he finished, sealing his fate.

Mary’s eyes widened.

His heart stopped.

Then she smiled.

His heart made up for lost time and pounded forcefully, almost painfully.

Could it be?

Dare he imagine?

“You’re right,” Mary murmured, glancing down to her dress and smoothing it before meeting his gaze once more. “He’s not you.”

“Mary,” Joseph whispered, speaking her name with the reverence she deserved. She smiled gently. Unable to resist the invitation her smile presented, he took a few steps toward her. Reaching out, he slowly grasped her hand, the sensation at once intensely powerful and utterly comforting. Slowly, he allowed himself the pleasure of tracing her fingers before lacing them through his. His heart beat wildly with the awareness that he was touching her, his sweet Mary.

Deeply, he gazed into her eyes, filling himself on the acceptance, on the hope in her expression. As she raised her dainty hand, he closed his eyes. When she placed it on the side of his face, her warmth seeped into his soul, breathing life into him.

Her loving fingers gently caressed his cheek, and he memorized the sensation, committing it to the forefront of his memory. Opening his eyes, he learned by heart the soft curve of her cheeks, the perfect bow of her lips, the dark lashes framing her expressive eyes. Swallowing, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers.

She sighed.

Then she began to giggle.

He leaned back, furrowing his brow. “What exactly do you think is funny about this? I’ll have you know I’ve lived in terror for the past three and a half years.” He reached out and tugged lightly on the dark strand of hair that had escaped her braid.

“You? You have lived in fear? What do you think I have endured? After all, you’re older. You could have married long ago!” She leaned back and shoved his arm in a teasing manner.

Flirting?

Heaven above, Mary was flirting with him.

He could die a happy man.

“I think…” He chuckled, reaching out and grasping her hand, tugging her in closer. “That it’s safe to say we’ve both been tortured enough.”

“Agreed. However…” She tilted her head slightly, a grin breaking through her expression. “What do you plan to do about it? Hmm?” She tapped his nose slightly.

More than anything, Joseph wanted to lean in and taste the sweetness of her lips, but he couldn’t.

He had one chance to have her; he’d not ruin it by moving too quick, by letting his desire overrule his honor.

Mary deserved more.

Kristin’s inspiration for the romance she writes comes from her tall, dark and handsome husband with killer blue eyes. With five children to chase, she is never at a loss for someone to kiss, something to cook or some mess to clean but she loves every moment of it!

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Cover Reveal For Kristen Vayden's A Tempting Ruin

Title: A Tempting Ruin Author: Kristin Vayden Genre: Regency Series: Greenford Waters Legacy Publisher: Blue Tulip Publishing Release Date: July 28th

                         

                                                          

 He might be a gentleman by title, but he was a rogue at heart... Beatrix Lamont is in hiding. Sequestered at Lady Southridge's country estate, she assumes the identity of a lady's companion: never once expecting her past would catch up with her. It does, however, in the vexing and seducting form of Lord Neville. Determined and far too charming for his own good--after all who simply demands a woman marry him? Not a gentleman. Lucky for Lord Neville, being a gentleman has never been an option, especially when it comes to Beatrix, the woman would try the patient of a saint, and every encounter with her leaves his body yearning for more. Caught between wanting her for himself and needing to protect her from dangers that lurk in the shadows of both their pasts, he must eventually make a choice. Become the gentleman he's never been--or play the seducer she brings out in him, and hope in the end she'll forgive him for using her to catch a killer.

***This is an Interconnected Standalone***

 

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“What is it you are reading?” “Ah, I doubt you’d approve.” She shot him a glance over the page. “Try me.” “Lady Maybelle’s Mysterious Suitor.” “It’s the butler.” He leaned forward and grinned evilly. “What? No. You did not… I—“ Beatrix stood, closed the book and paced irritatedly. Opening the book, she glanced to the last page and read, her fury rising by the moment. “It was the butler! You ruined it!” she all but shouted as she lifted the book. For a fleeting moment, she wanted to throw it at him! How dare he ruin the fantastic book, the sweet mystery, by giving away the ending! Of all her pet peeves, this was champion. “I do hope you’re a poor aim if you decide to follow through with hurling the volume at my head.” He stood and held up his hands. “Why? Why would you do that?” Beatrix lamented, tossing the book on the chaise and glaring at him. “Because it amuses me.” She stilled, knowing her glare grew more menacing by the moment as she studied the horrible creature she had, only moments ago, thought so devastatingly attractive. “It… amuses you?” “Rather, you amuse me. Your reaction.” He lifted his shoulder in a blasé manner, as if he hadn’t just provoked her! “I — you — you!” Beatrix ground out then stomped. “Did you just stomp?” he asked, his grin growing. “A lady doesn’t stomp. There was a spider,” she lied and stalked away toward the window, hoping the horrible man would get the point and take his leave. The sound of footsteps approaching had her stiffening her back. “I’m sorry for offending you so greatly. But I do thank you for being the cause of such a prized few moments of amusement. It was… delightful. And I’ll tell you a secret…” His voice was close, sending prickles of awareness up her arms as his velvet voice spoke softly. “Humbled to be your entertainment, sir,” she replied frostily, trying to keep her reaction to him hidden away and forgotten. Turning to face him, she shifted her gaze from him to the door meaningfully. His amused chuckle was the only response. Drat. “If you read the next book, you’ll find out a little bit more about the butler… because, Miss Beatrix, things are not what they always seem,” he replied kindly and then turned to leave. “Wait,” she called out before she thought about it. He paused and turned to her, his grey eyes clear and completely drawing her in. “You don’t have to leave just yet.” “I do believe that is the kindest thing you’ve said to me.” He bit back a grin. Barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Beatrix walked over to the bookshelf where she had originally found the book and looked for the sequel. “What is the title of the second book?” she called over her shoulder. Lord Neville smiled and glanced down, then strode toward her. “The Butler’s Secret.” “Oh! I can’t wait.” She smiled as she searched for the book. “Ah! There it is!” She stood on her very tiptoes, reaching for the book, her fingers brushing the spine and missing in the effort to withdraw it. “Blast it all,” she mumbled. “Such language from a lady!” Lord Neville scolded, tsking his tongue. In spite of his grin, which bespoke his unoffended nature, Beatrix still felt her face heat with a painful blush. “Allow me.” “No, I’ve got it.” Beatrix tried again. “Very well.” Lord Neville stepped back, crossing his arms. After several additional attempts to dislodge the book, Beatrix sighed and turned to face him. “Can you please help?” “I thought you’d never ask, though I must say the… stretching… offered a very pleasant view of your ankles,” he replied as he brushed past her and began to reach for the book. “Ooo…” Beatrix elbowed him in the ribs just as he stretched. “What the—“ He dislodged the book only slightly and turned to glare at her. “Was that necessary?” “You were looking at my ankles,” she replied haughtily. “You were looking at me earlier.” He crossed his arms, knowing he had won the argument, judging by the triumphant gleam in his eyes. “The book, please?” Beatrix shifted the topic of conversation. “Here.” He easily reached the book’s spine and removed it to the point of where it was teetering on the edge. “You simply could not resist, could you?” Beatrix grumbled as she reached and pulled out the book. “No,” he answered honestly, “but to be honest… if you were in my position, would you have done any different?” “No… wait. Yes.” He cocked his head, waiting. “I would have tried to make the book fall on your head,” Beatrix replied then dashed across the room. “Unbelievable!” he called out and gave chase. “You’re simply jealous I thought of it rather than you.” She spoke as she strategically stepped, placing the chaise between them. “I’d never do anything so diabolical to a lady,” he shot back then slowly circled the chaise. Beatrix matched him step for step till they’d made a full lap around the piece of furniture. “This is pointless,” he replied, walked away and sat in the chair. He reached for a book on the side table and began reading. Beatrix watched him for a moment then took a seat as well. Halfway into the first chapter of her book she glanced up, noticing that Lord Neville was not across from her any longer. “Lesson one… never let your guard down,” he whispered from beside her. “How did you do that?” she asked, startled that she had missed his movement. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned with why?” he asked. Beatrix swallowed, trying not to notice how his nearness radiated comforting warmth or how the very air was permeated with a masculine spicy scent that called to her. “Why?” “In this case… it was the only way I could get close enough to do this,” he whispered as he leaned in slightly. His hand reached up and gently placed a lock of hair behind her ear. “What if… if I don’t want you to?” Beatrix asked, knowing full well how much she did want him too; however, the last thing she wanted was for him to know that! “Then simply say no,” he murmured, his gaze darting from her lips to her eyes once more. “Are you… going to say no?” Beatrix blinked, unable to break the swirling fog of desire that wound around them like mist from the sea. “No.” He leaned away, and Beatrix realized the misunderstanding. He had thought she’d meant she didn’t welcome his affection! Quickly, she reached up and placed her hand against his cheek, immediately feeling his warm skin through her glove. Hope dawned in his expression, and immediately he closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers, caressing them softly. Longingly. He withdrew slightly, but only to tilt his head further before placing another kiss to her lips, sliding his across hers softly, invitingly. She reached up and placed her hand at his shoulder, pulling him in closer, a request he immediately obeyed. His kiss deepened, and Beatrix lost herself in the thousands of blissful sensations that were all awakening each moment. She almost gasped when his velvet tongue slid across her lower lip a second before his teeth playfully nipped at it. Not wanting to be outdone, she tentatively mimicked his actions, glorying in his reaction as her hand at his shoulder felt the telling bunching of his musculature as he leaned in deeper to their shared kiss. With each nip and caress, she gave and took, a constant partner in the dance, moving with the music of desire awakening. The sound of voices, angry voices, interrupted Beatrix’s blissful state and shook her back to the reality of her situation. She was alone. With an unmarried gentleman. Which was enough to consider her compromised, not to mention she had been willingly participating in a far-more-than-chaste kiss.

 

 

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  Kristin’s inspiration for the romance she writes comes from her tall, dark and handsome husband with killer blue eyes. With five children to chase, she is never at a loss for someone to kiss, something to cook or some mess to clean but she loves every moment of it! She loves to make soap, sauerkraut, sourdough bread and gluten free muffins. Life is full of blessings and she praises God for the blessed and abundant life He’s given her.

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Blog Tour For Kristen Vayden's Whispered Lies

Title: Whispered Lies Author: Kristin Vayden Genre: New Adult

Atonement is my only salvation. So when the opportunity presented itself, to save her. I did. And the tangled web began…Knowing her, but not letting her know me. Keeping her at arm's length when all I wanted to do was have her in my arms. Protecting her, because I finally fell. And the monster she needed protection from… Was me.

   

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 “Why are you avoiding me?” I asked, hating that I sounded so weak and insecure. I risked a glance up, biting my lip as Alder studied me. He didn’t immediately refute my claim, which basically affirmed that I was right. He was avoiding me. Fan-freaking-tastic. Which totally solidified my stalker status. “Jayne, it’s for the best… okay?” He spoke quietly, his gaze searching my face, landing on my lips. He closed his eyes and turned away slightly. Opening his eyes, he studied the wall. “Why?” “Because I’m… I’m the last person… you deserve someone so much…. better, you know? It’s not you. It’s me.” He turned to face me as he spoke. “Whenever anyone says that, it just makes you feel like they're trying to let you down nicely, you know?” I took a deep breath and stood. “It’s okay. I get it. I just…” I searched his hazel eyes. “…I thought there was something more, and I was wrong. It’s okay.” I tried to smile bravely, but I knew I failed by the expression on his face. “Jayne, don’t.” His expression was tortured, as if he were fighting an internal civil war, and no matter the side, he would lose. “It’s okay, Alder. I… I’m sorry I cornered you. It’s just that I felt safe around you… and it’s…” I took a shaky breath as I continued. “…it’s been a long time since I felt that way, you know?” I gave a weak smile as my eyes stung with tears. “Oh shit, don’t cry, please don’t cry. You… I… Jayne, I’m not worth your tears.” His voice was hoarse as he stood and reached out toward me then pulled back his hand as if reaching for something that would burn him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed forcefully then closed his eyes. “Seriously, Jayne, if you only knew…” He shook his head and then rubbed the back of his neck. I paused, studying him. “Is… is it because of your past?” I asked tentatively, knowing that I was about to walk on thin, fragile ice. He froze, and his eyes slowly slid to meet mine. “You could say that,” he whispered. I could see his breathing grow rapid as his gaze locked with mine, his expression full of fear. “And… you think it would be hard for me to see past it,” I guessed, taking a cautious step forward. He watched my slow movement with a heavily guarded expression, as if he was terrified. Slowly, he nodded. I risked another step toward him, watching as his gaze held steady, locked on mine. “Because what you did is unforgiveable?” I murmured. He nodded once, barely blinking as he watched me take the final step that would bring us toe to toe. “I see,” I whispered as I tilted my head slightly and inhaled the warm scent coming from his skin, a mix of sweat and raw power. It was intoxicating, alluring and called to me, urging me to be reckless. I wasn’t the kind of girl to be forward, to chase the guy. Alder had changed all of that. Reaching down, I slowly laced my fingers with his, thankful he had taken off the tape as we left the gym. His fingers tightened around mine, warming me with the security of his gentle grip. Heart pounding, I glanced up, studying his expression, memorizing the walnut-and-moss-green highlights of his eyes, the strong line of his jaw. His gaze traced my face, as if he were studying me just as intently. “I’m stronger than you think,” I murmured and rose up on my toes as I ran my nose along his lower jaw. His breathing hitched and I sensed his muscles lock down, as if straining against himself, not wanting to move, to either step away or step closer. It was a turning point. I could almost feel the battle being fought within him, and I wasn’t sure which side would win. So I risked it all, hoping I would turn the tide. Before I could possibly overthink my actions, I lifted my chin just enough to meet his mouth. Softly, I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, lingering for a moment. It was as far as I was going to go. Now I waited. Leaning back slightly, I lifted my gaze to study his expression. Indecision flickered before the hunger that I had only glimpsed earlier began to burn brightly in his gaze. Immediately, he tugged me close and all but devoured me with his kiss. There was no easing into the passion; it was like the Fourth of July, explosive and beautiful and passionate. His hands released mine and ran up my shoulders till they framed the back of my neck, guiding me to tilt my head so he could deepen the kiss. His lips caressed mine, his teeth playful and ardent as they nipped at my lower lip, teasing me. He darted his tongue along the seam of my lips and tortured me with just a taste of his flavor. Not wanting to be outdone, I gripped his shoulders and ran my fingers along the hills and valleys of his back, delighting in the raw power he held. I could feel his heartbeat racing as I pressed into him, wanting to be closer, wanting more. Wanting to forget everything but him, wanting to lose myself, even if it were just for one moment. For one night. “Alder…” I whispered his name as his lips left mine and traveled down my neck, nipping and teasing my skin till he reached my collarbone. Almost frantically he met my lips once more, seemingly desperate to taste my kiss. A desperation I felt as well. Breaking the kiss, I grinned and gently pressed against his chest till his knees hit his chair. His chest rose and fell quickly, same as mine, as I kissed him once, then pushed down on his shoulders, encouraging him to sit down. Climbing on his lap, it was almost as if I were watching it unfold outside my body. This wasn’t me… I didn’t do things like this… But here I was, seducing him in a dingy prison-looking office. Alder didn’t need any further encouragement. Where I had started everything, he was now taking control, and I was thrilled to follow. His hands circled my waist and pulled me tightly against his lap as his lips took mine hostage, demanding and hot. I felt the last reservations fall away. Warm hands gripped my hips till they toyed with the edge of my shirt. His tongue wove around mine, dancing, seducing. Deftly, his hands found skin, caressing my lower back and wandering around to my stomach, climbing higher till they grazed the edge of my bra. Then, like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head, he froze. He carefully ended the kiss and gently pulled my shirt down so it covered me. Confused, I leaned back to study him. “Jayne…” His tone was labored. I waited, barely breathing. My heart thundered with the fear of rejection. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the chair as his hands wound around my waist, and he held me as if he were afraid I’d disappear. Alder would forever be a complete contradiction. And like a drug, I couldn’t stop needing hit after hit. His breathing slowed, and he lifted his eyes to meet my gaze. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” That wasn’t what I was expecting. And it was the most romantic, sweet thing any guy had ever said. A piece of my heart melted, and a smile broke through the fear. “Honestly… in all the world, I don’t think I’d ever find anyone so beautiful, inside and out.” He shook his head slightly, his expression full of wonder, but a rough edge to his tone gave me a shiver up my spine. Ignoring it, I shrugged. “You don’t know me that well… yet.” I grinned flirtatiously. “Actually…” Alder’s expression froze then grew resolute. “…Jayne, I do.”

Kristin’s inspiration for the romance she writes comes from her tall, dark and handsome husband with killer blue eyes. With five children to chase, she is never at a loss for someone to kiss, something to cook or some mess to clean but she loves every moment of it! She loves to make soap, sauerkraut, sourdough bread and gluten free muffins. Life is full of blessings and she praises God for the blessed and abundant life He’s given her.

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Release Blitz For Kristen Vayden's WHISPERED LIES

Title: Whispered Lies Author: Kristin Vayden Genre: New Adult Release Date: February 19, 2015

The heart always wants what it can never have. I knew she'd never look at me twice. But that didn't stop my heart from beating for her. You see, I’m not the good guy. On the outside, I might look like it, I might even smile at you. But it’s a lie. It’s all a lie. There’s nothing redeemable about me. Except for her. But I’m the last person she’d ever want to be with. Because I’m the reason he died. I’m at fault. But she doesn’t know it was me. Atonement is my only salvation. Protecting her, because I finally fell. And the monster she needed protection from… Was me.

   

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Alder   The next afternoon as three rolled around, I tapped my foot nervously and waited for Jayne to arrive. After scanning the new crowd of students who’d entered the commons, my gaze greedily took in her heart-shaped face and wide smile that grew as soon as she spotted me. Me. It was amazing to consider, yet, as wondrous as it was, it was fake — false and a hell of a deception on my part. But that she wanted to be around me, that she liked me was a drug I couldn’t reject. I knew that someday soon I’d have to do it, make the clean break and walk away, but I couldn’t do it, not yet, not when I had heaven so close. “You ready?” I stood and asked. “Yep.” Her beauty was constantly overwhelming. From her clear eyes, filled with wonder and delight to the perfect shape that God blessed with every tempting curve. But what captivated me was her inner strength, her passion for life, and the innocent nature with which she attacked it. “Let me take that for you.” I held out my hand, waiting for her to give me the pink backpack she carried. “Really?” She cocked a skeptical brow. “No, I’m offering so I can leave it here.” I replied sarcastically. Wiggling my fingers I enticed her to hand it over. “Well thanks.” She handed it over, her gaze softening. “Real men wear pink.” I hitched the carnation-pink bag over my shoulder. She giggled as we made our way out of the commons. Glancing at me shyly, she nodded to the pack. “It looks good on you.” “I know,” I shot back. “So, where are we going?” “Didn’t we cover this? Nosey equals…” I let it linger, teasing her. “Annoying. I remember. Fine.” “Where are you parked?” I asked as we made it to the parking lot. “Over there.” We headed to her car, and I waited for her to pop the trunk. Then I placed both bags in and closed it. “Ready?” “Always.” “Okay, it’s not far. Want to walk?” “Sure.” Her smile was as warm as the summer sun, melting away the quiet whispers that tried to remind me how I was playing with fire. Swallowing hard, we walked a few steps, and I reached out and grasped her hand. Lame. I couldn’t believe it was such a huge step for me to simply hold her hand. But it was. It was the world, literally in the palm of my hand. Her grasp was immediate, and as I glanced at her, a beautiful rosy blush graced her cheeks, highlighting her already stunning beauty. We made our way to the small ice cream parlor on the edge of campus and, true to form, I ordered Neapolitan, and Jayne ordered the strawberry cheesecake flavor. When she pulled out some cash from her pocket, I frowned at her. “No… girls don’t pay.” “Girls don’t pay?” she asked, her expression a question almost as if she were debating whether to be impressed or offended. “Out of respect.” I shrugged and paid for our order then walked to a side table. “Respect?” she asked, her expression open. “Yeah, I know you could pay for it. It’s not that I doubt that… it’s that as a guy, it’s an… honor to take care of a woman.” “Oh, wow.” She tilted her head and studied me. Then she took a bite of her ice cream. “How old are you Alder?” “Uh, I’m twenty-three. Why? How old are you, Jayne,” I teased, hoping she couldn’t sense my discomfort. “Twenty. It’s just that you seem… older. You know? It’s… nice.” “Nice? Okay, has no one ever told you that guys hate to be called nice? It’s like saying a girl has a great personality.” I held up imaginary quotes. “Hey!” She tossed her napkin at me. “I happen to have a great personality.” “Yes, yes you do. But that’s not all you’ve got going for you. But I must say, the whole great personality part is one of my favorite aspects.” I winked. “Look at you, turning something I should be ticked over into a compliment.” She replied while narrowing eyes, studying me. “I try.” “Yeah, well, keep your charm in check.” “Yes ma’am,” I teased and took a big bite of ice cream, letting the cool sweetness distract me from the temptation she presented. We talked for at least an hour. And that was where it started. It seemed like as much as I knew our relationship couldn’t go anywhere, I couldn’t stop taking hit after hit, moment after moment with her. With each study date we’d have, or short walk from one class to another, I’d tell myself that I’d just commit every second to memory so that when I faded away, out of her life, I’d still have those precious smiles, those captivating expressions she’d flash when something amused her, or the light of intelligence that illuminated her amber gaze. I was in deeper than ever before. Because I’d loved Jayne when I’d just been the creepy stalker, in Raphael’s words, but now that I was actually with her, it was a million times worse. About two weeks after spending every available moment with her, I found myself at the center, beating the shit out of the boxing bag, fighting myself, trying to justify my actions. “What to talk about it?” Raphael’s voice asked quietly as he went behind the bag and held it for me. “I’m in deep,” I whispered then spun and kicked the bag. “You still seeing her?” he asked, knowing the answer. “Yeah.” “It’s like you’re willingly being drawn and quartered.” He sighed. “It’s not that I think so little of Jayne that she’d never forgive you… but even if she did, man… it wouldn’t ever be the same. You know that, right?” “I do. I know it all, Raphael, Okay? I know it so well that I’ve freaking stopped sleeping at night, knowing that I have to let go, but I don’t want to. I want her… I want this so badly.” My chest constricted, like I had been holding my breath for far too long. “For the first time in so long, I’m at a place where I’m actually proud of who I’m becoming… and that guy is the one who’s totally winning her heart… but I don’t have a freaking chance of a snowball in hell because of the past I can’t escape. It’s so… screwed up.” “No argument there. This is messed up in a way that’s… I don’t even know, man. But… you gotta let it go.” Raphael came around the bag and put his hand on my shoulder. “I know. If it were just me who would end up bleeding, I’d live every last moment till I bled dry, but it’s not just me.” “No, it’s not, dude. It’s her. And if you really love her like you say…” He let the thought linger. “Then I’ll think of what’s best for her rather than what I want,” I finished, feeling like I was slowly sliding a dull knife through my heart. “Love doesn’t take,” Raphael said. “It gives.” And I was pretty sure the price would kill me, ripping what was left of my soul from my body.

Kristin’s inspiration for the romance she writes comes from her tall, dark and handsome husband with killer blue eyes. With five children to chase, she is never at a loss for someone to kiss, something to cook or some mess to clean but she loves every moment of it! She loves to make soap, sauerkraut, sourdough bread and gluten free muffins. Life is full of blessings and she praises God for the blessed and abundant life He’s given her.

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Blog Tour For To Tempt An Earl By Kristin Vayden

 

Title: To Tempt an Earl (Greenford Waters Legacy, #2) Author: Kristin Vayden Genre: Regency Series: Greenford Waters Legacy Publisher: Blue Tulip Publishing

   

Tempting an Earl is not for the faint of heart. Thank heavens Bethanny is anything but faint! Now, honest, perhaps--too honest, but never faint! After all, why flirt when you can tempt? And why the devil would a woman choose to swoon, when she could be kissed? Of course, she'd never try something so...honest, on anyone but Lord Graham. He's the only one she wants. He alone has her heart. He hadn’t a clue. So it was only polite that she tell him. Now, if only her blasted guardian, the Duke of Clairmont, would see Graham as more of a suitor than his old friend. Because Graham is anything but old and most certainly not just a friend, not after that kiss, or that touch. Though, if she were to lay all her cards on the table--which any gently bred woman ought--he wasn't completely aware it was her mouth, her lips, or her touch. But that's beside the point now, isn't it?

 

Loving her was betrayal, resisting her was impossible.

   

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        “I wasn’t aware that this part of the house was open to the guests.” A rich masculine voice startled her from her musing. “Pardon?” Bethanny immediately stood, straightened her posture, and felt the wild gallop of her heart. This couldn’t be good. She was alone, with a stranger, on a secluded balcony. The duke was going to murder her. If she made it out without being ruined. Dear Lord. “It is not. What, might I ask, are you doing here?” she asked in her firmest tone. “I only just arrived, and, after the evening I’ve had, found I needed a moment to regain my composure. I’m a friend of the duke and am quite certain I’m allowed on his private balcony. What about you?” he asked, a slightly teasing tone to his voice. Bethanny narrowed her eyes. They had adjusted to the dim light, and as recognition dawned, her heart hammered in her chest. Graham. “I’m quite certain I’m permitted to be here as well,” she responded, not quite knowing what to say. Did he recognize her? Was he simply teasing because he already had figured out who she was? “Ah, a friend of the duchess then?” he asked lightly as he made his way toward her. He definitely did not recognize her. However, she couldn’t determine if this was a bad thing or a good one. And it was rather dark. After a moment’s deliberating, she decided to play along. What could it hurt? “You could say that.” She shrugged. Then, feeling mischievous, she lowered her gaze and offered her most flirtations smile, hoping his eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could perhaps notice it. At least she hoped it was flirtatious. After a moment, she risked a glance up to his shadowed features; a playful grin was tipping his lips and showed off the fairest hint of those beloved dimples she so fondly remembered. She sighed… inwardly, of course. “It’s quite a nice view, peaceful, if I may say so.” He came to stand beside her. He was taller than she remembered, and possibly broader as well, but she couldn’t be sure with the faint light. “Exactly why I came to this very place.” “Is it quite the crush inside then?” he asked. There was a slight lilt to his voice, not quite a brogue, but not the crisp English she was accustomed to hearing. He must spend quite a bit of time at his estate in Edinburgh to have taken on the faint accent. She would have to thank Lady Southridge later for all the helpful information regarding her brother. “Crush would be an understatement,” she replied too quickly, her tone a bit wry. “Not a fan of the crowds?” he asked, his tone light. “Or were there far too many gentlemen seeking the attentions of so beautiful a lady?” Even in the darkness, his gaze was powerful, spearing right through her causing a myriad of strange sensations to swirl around in her belly. “Or perhaps I simply wanted a moment to myself.” she answered, her tone far more breathless than she would have liked. “Perhaps.” He shrugged. “You don’t believe me.” She narrowed her eyes. “No,” he replied, unfazed. “Why ever not?” Bethanny asked, turning to face him fully. “In my experience, ladies do not visit deserted balconies unless they wish to be found.” Slightly shaking her head, Bethanny replied, “Which is exactly why I choose to use the private balcony? The one closed off from the party?” she asked in a disbelieving tone. “Well…” “I thought not.” She shrugged her shoulder, a smile teasing her lips at besting him. “You’re a cheeky one,” he replied, his tone holding a hint of awe. “I prefer intelligent.” “Yes, I believe you would.” He nodded, his grin widening. “That sounded dangerously like an insult, my lord,” she teased. “No, no insult… simply… delayed respect.” “Respect?” Bethanny asked with a dubious tone. “Indeed. Certainly a lovely lady such as yourself has to be aware that social functions can be quite… tedious.” “I’m sure the duke will be thrilled you think so highly of his party,” she replied, a smile tugging at her lips. “You mistake my meaning. People can be tedious. Petty even. It’s simply… refreshing to speak with a woman who doesn’t fall into those categories.” “I do believe that was a compliment.” “It was, and you should take it as such.” “Why, thank you.” Bethanny stepped back and performed a deep curtsey, as if being presented at court. “And a sense of humor to boot. I might have to actually find out your name.” Graham chuckled, his dimples in full view. “And ruin the mystery? I think not.” Bethanny rose from her curtsey, her heart pounding. “I do love a good mystery.” “Avid reader?” Bethanny asked. “Yes… but that’s not what I was referring to.” His posture changed, as did his expression, and at once, Bethanny’s heart took flight because some instinct, some feminine awareness told her with all certainty that he was no longer simply teasing an innocent. He was pursuing. “Oh?” Her tone was breathless to her own ears, and she silently scolded herself for the betrayal of weakness. “So, mysterious miss of the duke’s balcony…” he teased, offering her a dramatic nickname. “Is that the best you can come up with? Mysterious miss of the duke’s balcony?” she asked, a laugh escaping her restraint. “I thought it was quite clever myself.” Graham paused his pursuit, his smile widening. “It sounds like a Gothic novel.” “You know, you’re quite right. I could have a future there if I ever so desire.” “Writing?” “Gad, no. Offering my service for creating titles.” “I’m not sure that’s a lucrative endeavor.” “Perhaps.” He shrugged and took another step forward. “But you must admit, you’d be curious hearing that title. I know my curiosity is quite piqued.” Bethanny took a deep breath, as deep as her corset allowed, and drew up all her courage. “Perhaps. I might be curious… but there would have to be something more than a catchy title, my lord.” She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but it was a game she had dreamed of playing since she’d first seen Lord Graham. The memory of him trading banter with Berty over dinner one night flashed to her memory. Most lords wouldn’t give a little girl the time of day, yet Lord Graham had traded wit with her, enjoying himself even. Bethanny had been envious of her little sister’s ability to bait him. She’d sworn that someday she’d have her turn. That day had finally come. It didn’t matter that he didn’t recognize her. Regardless, he was still there speaking with her. And for now, that was enough. She opened her mouth to speak, but her nerves got the best of her and, rather than speak, she dropped her fan. Likely because she had forgotten she had brought it in the first place. It clattered to the floor lightly, and she closed her eyes in embarrassment at her own clumsiness. “Allow me,” Lord Graham spoke. “No I’ve—” Bethanny’s eyes flew open as she knelt down to retrieve her fan. As luck would have it, her elbow soundly clocked Lord Graham’s head as he rose from retrieving the offending object. “Ow!” He reached up to rub the surely sore area. “I’m so sorry!” Bethanny spoke, horrified. “Blo—er… ah, that... is fine, miss.” He closed his eyes a moment, likely from the dull pain her elbow had needlessly inflicted on his person. “I’m ever so sorry, my lord!” Bethanny felt her face heat with a scarlet blush that had to make her practically glow. She certainly felt like it. Without thinking, she reached up to his scalp and felt for the knot, her thumb grazing slightly over the skin as to not cause him discomfort, much like she had done a million times to her sisters. But Lord Graham was most definitely not her sister… Her hands stilled as she realized just what she was doing. “Forgive me, my lord.” She quickly withdrew her hands and took a step back, belatedly realizing just how close she had been to him. The scent of cinnamon and cedar hung in the air, wrapping a spell of enticement around her, beckoning her to come closer. She started to take a step back, away from the temptation, but his hand at her back stopped her. Practically burned through her, or so it felt. “I’m quite well. However, I thank you for your concern,” he whispered, his voice intimate. “I—I’m usually not quite so… graceless,” Bethanny answered, her thoughts muddled by the intense gaze with which he captivated her. In the moonlight, his amber eyes were silver, his golden-hued skin a soft buttery gold. He was beautiful. “I’m quite thankful you are… you see, I was trying to find some excuse to hold you, and you neatly provided me with the perfect opportunity,” he murmured, his gaze leaving hers and traveling down the line of her jaw and the curve of her nose before resting on her lips. Dear Lord, he is going to kiss me. “I do think you could have done without the knot I gave you at the top of your head,” she replied, her words teasing but her tone far from it. “A small price to pay.” He shrugged. “However, I do believe there is a custom, when one gets an injury.” “Oh?” “Indeed, usually, the injured party is given a kiss.” “Is that so? Silly me. I thought that was only practiced in the nursery.” Bethanny raised a challenging eyebrow as her heart raced, beating an excited rhythm that hoped he would make good on his word and, indeed, kiss her. However, it would never do to appear too eager. “I have it on good authority that it is still practiced outside of the nursery as well… so, being with tradition and all, I would appreciate a kiss.” His dimples deepened as his smile widened then relaxed as his gaze once again became deep and soulful, searching hers. “I cannot see the harm in upholding tradition. If you’ll simply bow your head—” Bethanny began, knowing full well that was not his intention. “Of course.” And before Bethanny could even close her eyes, his lips caressed hers. The touch was soft, lingering and velvety. His warm breath tickled as he drew back slightly. Her eyes, which hadn’t closed, gazed directly at his. As if spoken out loud, his gaze asked for permission to kiss her again. At her slight nod, his lips met hers once more; however, this time, Bethanny closed her eyes, not wanting anything to distract from her first kiss, and as she had always hoped, it was from Lord Graham.

  















       

Prequel Novella to What the Duke Wants

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Kristin's inspiration for the romance she writes comes from her tall, dark and handsome husband with killer blue eyes. With five children to chase, she is never at a loss for someone to kiss, something to cook or some mess to clean but she loves every moment of it! She loves to make soap, sauerkraut, sourdough bread and gluten free muffins. Life is full of blessings and she praises God for the blessed and abundant life He's given her.

 

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