I am excited to invite Samanthya Wyatt to my blog
and introduce Samanthya's One and Only Series- Book Three
Thank you Iris, for having me on your blog.
I write hot, sizzling romance. All I ever wanted was to see my book sitting on a shelf in the book store. I married a military man, traveled the world, raised a family and then we settled in the Shenandoah Valley. Once my children were grown, I decided it was time to act on my dream.
As a beginner, I had so much to learn. I joined RWA, took workshops and gained a wealth of information. I grew as a writer. When I finally finished my first historical romance, I was thrilled to send it off with the hope, like everyone else, I wanted to be published. I entered contests. In 2013 The Right One, the first of my historical trilogy, finaled in The Golden Rose Contest.
Even though my first love is historical, I also write contemporary romance. I signed my first contract with Soul Mate Publishing in 2013. Since then I’ve had four books published and a Christmas contemporary “A Hero Grinch for Christmas”, is due for release on December 1st. After those, I have a Fireman Series planned.
As for my historical series, each of my books have a beginning and a romantically satisfying end for my characters happily ever after. Nothing is left hanging. I love the idea of a connection from a previous book so I thought it would be nice to write a series of books with a few familiar characters.
In the first book of the series, “The Right One”, Katherine’s brother is missing. Book two, The True One, is Stephen’s story—why he was gone for two years, what happened to him, and a love story all his own. And now—book three. Giles was introduced in the first book as Morgan’s best friend—the duke. In the second book, he is asked to rescue Kat’s brother, Stephen. The Only One is his love story.
A dangerous lord’s warning sparks devastating results
One impulsive kiss to prove the young girl flirted with danger shakes Giles’ firm resolve. The young American is wild and reckless, and before long he realizes, she’s too much to handle. He surrenders. A duke must adhere to his duty. His title demands his home is in England. Tormented with longing for the woman who branded his very soul, he forsakes nobility and returns to claim the love he has carelessly thrown away.
A girl’s determination triggers a woman’s desire
I write because I enjoy it. And because I hope to give someone else the pleasure of a romance. Whether you want to escape reality or just live in the moment of fantasy, I hope you will enjoy a few hours of reading one of my books.
To find Samanthya, please visit her website here: www.samanthyawyatt.com
You can also find Samanthya Wyatt on facebook, goodreads, amazon, Soul Mate Publishing, and Night Owl Reviews. Google to find more info and blog posts and review sites.
“I was not spying.”
“Of course you weren’t. Judging from the conversation I interrupted, no young girl would know the subject they were discussing anyway.”
Her face flushed scarlet. He arched a brow. Surely she had no idea the boys were speaking of tupping a girl’s skirts.
“You’re handsome,” the girl stated baldly, expanding a breath as if she’d held her mouth closed too long.
He didn’t know whether to be flattered or feel concern at a possible purpose behind her words.
“What do you know of handsome men?”
“My brothers, I guess are handsome. But they’re my brothers. I don’t care enough about other men to consider them handsome.”
“So then, why are you here?” He gave her his best glare.
“I’ve grown out of pigtails. I’m a woman now.”
Swallowing his amazement, he nearly choked. “Donning a dress does not make you a woman.” His gaze dipped in a slow, silent perusal. The damn girl’s breeches emphasized her curves, leaving nothing to a man’s imagination. Not that he should notice, of course, but . . . Damnation. She didn’t look the least like a child.
“I see you’ve resorted to breeches again. After your brothers’ reproaching insults, I would think you’d learned your lesson.”
She thrust out her chest. “Papa always said I had spirit. I am not unwise.”
“You think it wise to hide in a tackle bin? To be alone here with me?”
“You’re a duke. A gentleman.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Being a duke does not make me a gentleman.”
“But Aunt Cornelia said English aristocrats live by their honor. You’re a nobleman. You have integrity, and morals.”
“Morals? Honor? A man lives by his own decree. What if I were to take liberties?”
“I can handle you.” Her eyes lit up and she seemed too sure of herself.
The gall of the chit.
With one quick movement, his hands shot out and jerked her against his chest. A gasp rushed from her throat, but she boldly held his gaze. With deliberate daring, his arms imprisoned her.
He watched the emotions flitting over her face. He meant to punish, to teach, to frighten. His gaze lowered to her mouth.
He’d send her fleeing for good.
He captured her lips in a forceful kiss.
Her fingers twisted his shirt.
Good God, she kissed him back. With such enthusiasm, he was flabbergasted.
Unconscionable, that one so young should kiss with such skill. Had the damned girl been coached? She should slap him, call him a knave. Push him away, scream at him. Instead, she twined her arms about his neck while her warm, seeking tongue pirouetted a mating dance with his.
Chest heaving, he grabbed her shoulders and thrust her away.
“Where the hell did you learn to kiss like that?”