Sweet
Lenora (Anton
& Lenora #1)
by
Ute
Carbone
Historical
Romance
Categories:
Action/Adventure
Publisher:
Champagne
Books
Release
Date:
July 1,
2013
Heat
Level:
Sensual
Word
Count/Length:
20,000
words/54 pages
Lenora Brewer’s family
owns the largest shipyard in Salem Massachusetts and Lenora, as her
father’s only living child, is given free rein to learn the
business. When Lenora’s father is killed in a carriage accident,
her relatives arrange a marriage to a wealthy investor who is rumored
to have beaten his first wife to death.
Lenora devises a scheme
to stowaway on The Sweet Lenora, a ship named for her.
The last thing Anton
Boudreaux needs is a naïve young woman stowing away on his ship. The
dark and daring captain has secrets of his own to protect.
When Sweet Lenora
encounters a dangerous storm off the coast of Brazil, Lenora and
Anton find in each other the courage and tenacity to brave the
elements. As their love for one another grows it becomes a force to
be reckoned with—and it will be sorely tested.
EXCERPT:
I
stayed in my hidey spot as long as I dared. When I could stand it no
longer, I raised a prayer to the heavens that we were far enough
embarked on our journey and made my way up the stairs. The light on
deck was strong, blinding me as I opened my tomb. A voice came upon
me before I could see clearly.
“What
witchery is this?”
“’Tis
a lass.” My nose endured sour sweat as my eyes began to comprehend
my surroundings. Four rough men circled about me. “She’s a fine
young pet, aye, boys?”
“Puss,
what do you on this ship?” The one who had spoken first drew a
dagger and held it to my throat.
I
swallowed deeply and prayed my fear would not be visible. “Put your
weapon away, please.” I said meekly, hoping that these men had some
little sense of propriety.
It
was not to be. The rapscallion with the knife grinned at me. He had
few teeth and a malodorous smell came from the open cavity of his
mouth. “What? And have you run off, little puss?”
“Where
would I run to?” My body shook at the folly of my coming above
board. Would I had stayed in the safety of the hold!
The
rapscallion pulled his weapon back from my throat as another grabbed
me round the waist. “Shall we unwrap our pretty present, boys?”
So close, he smelled of onions and leftover dregs of rum. I kicked
back hard as I could. With a yelp, he dropped me, giving me the
opportunity to run.
The
question I had posed earlier was an apt one. I knew Sweet Lenora’s
dimensions by heart; she was two hundred twenty four feet in length
and forty in width. There was, indeed, nowhere to run. Still, I
scurried this way and that, but the ruffians soon caught me. In the
commotion, their number had grown to half a dozen. One pinned my arms
while another ripped the laces of my bodice. I kicked, yelled, and
bit, which only served to amuse them.
I
thought my fate sealed when a shot was fired into the air. The arms
that had grasped me dropped me and I fell to the deck like a bundle
of rags. On my knees I stayed, my legs unwilling to carry me. I
looked about, and there gazing down at me was the dark man I had
spied yesterday. The men made a wide circle now. “Bring her to my
cabin,” the dark man said. The voice that came from his throat had
a lilt to it, an accent unlike the flat vowels of my native New
England.
One
of the ruffians grabbed my arm and raised me to my feet. He dragged
me off into a well- appointed cabin. A narrow berth stood against one
wall and a spindle desk with a log laid open upon it rested opposite.
The ruffian shoved me inside and slammed shut the door in his wake.
I
was in the captain’s quarters, of that I had no doubt. Which meant
that the dark haired man was none other than the infamous Captain
Anton Boudreaux. Curious to find out more, I went to the log. Not
much was writ on the page, merely records of what the ship carried
and the weather when she had set sail. Frustrated by such a lack, I
sat back in the chair then bolted out again as the cabin door flew
open. The black haired man stood on the threshold, examining me with
his coal dark eyes. His look suggested he would like nothing better
than to tear me limb to limb, and I shrank back against the wall. He
stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him.
Available
at:
About
the Author:
Ute (who
pronounces her name Oooh-tah) Carbone is a multi-published author of
women’s fiction and romance. Her romantic comedy, The P-Town Queen,
was selected as Champagne Books novel of the year for 2012. She and
her husband reside in Nashua, NH. They have two grown sons.
Connect with Ute Carbone
