New Series Introduction: Before the Kiss by Jayne Fresina #free

As a big fan of Jayne Fresina’s, I’m very pleased to tell you more about her novella, available NOW. If you love historical romances with clever, witty characters, you must give Jayne a try. If you’re already a fan, then guess what? This lovely novella is FREE!

Before the Kiss is an original novella introducing Jayne Fresina’s charming, delightfully naughty new Regency Romance series. It is an introductory teaser for Once Upon a Kiss (Book Club Belles Society) being released in June 3, 2014 (available for pre-order now!)

In the sleepy village of Hawcombe Prior, the five young ladies of the Book Club Belles Society are looking for their own leading men. When handsome, mysterious Darius Wainwright strolls into town, the Book Club Belles are instantly smitten with his brooding good looks and prideful demeanor. It’s as if he walked out of the pages of their favorite new novel, a scandalous romance called Pride and Prejudice. But Miss Justina Penny has a secret – she’s met this arrogant, brooding bachelor before. In Bath. The town, not the tub. Although, she was naked…

Here’s an excerpt:

“What the devil—?”

 

Having crashed directly onto the lump under the covers, Justina clung on as it heaved and bucked. “It’s only me!” she gasped.

 

“Only—?”

 

The quilt slipped and her hand contacted with solid muscle. Naked, solid muscle. Apparently the captain slept as nature intended. “Oh.” His hand had likewise found her body on the other side of the bedcover, his palm pressed to her breast as he tried to push her off.

 

The large man under her froze for a few seconds and then he shifted frantically again like a netted pike.

 

Suddenly, she was flipped onto her back and he was over her, a knee on either side of her legs, his fingers clamped around her wrists, holding them securely to the bed above her head.

 

And then, in the meek light of his lantern, she realized her terrible mistake.

 

“Oh…you’re not him.”

 

His eyes were coal black, not the warm blue she’d expected. His hair was dark as midnight, not lightened by a kiss of summer like that of sunny Captain Sherringham. His lips were not poised to laugh. The stern features of an unknown, irate man loomed over her, nothing merry whatsoever in his countenance.

 

“Who the blazes are you?” he hissed, words escaping like steam from a kettle.

 

She clamped her lips shut in horror.

 

“Who put you up to this? I daresay Forester thought this was amusing, eh?”

 

Justina remained mute. Desperately her mind scrambled for a way out of this one, but it was in such a muddle it simply seemed to get even more tangled by the second. Oh, what had she done? This was surely her worst, most ill-conceived scheme ever. She struggled to free her arms, but he gripped her wrists tighter.

 

This must be what it feels like when one is about to be mauled by a tiger, she thought, terror streaking through her in hot flames. She could scream, but then who would come? The landlady. Other residents of the house. Her stupidity would be exposed. As would her intimate parts.

 

Oh, her family! The humiliation.

 

The only thing she could do now was appeal to the stranger for mercy. And pretend to be someone else.

He demanded again that she tell him her name, but wild horses wouldn’t drag that out of her.

Grab a FREE copy of the novella introduction to Justina, Darius and the Book Club Belles Society here:

Pre-Order the 1st book in the series and continue reading about Justina and Darius here:

About Jayne

Jayne Fresina’s epitaph will probably include the words, “she should have known better.” She shuffles around the house in worn-out woolly socks, doesn’t own a solitary t-shirt that isn’t stained, talks to herself, sings Amy Winehouse in the shower, has a morbid fear of sewing machines and ironing boards, drinks too much coffee, would work for coconut cake, and spends five hours a day writing to maintain a relative degree of sanity.

As a child, her desire to entertain manifested itself in weekly performances from a cupboard in her bedroom. The repertoire was extensive and varied, including a one-woman version of “Jaws”, complete with a musical interlude for ice-cream. Sadly her audience of stuffed animals, dolls and bored sisters was mostly unimpressed and only mildly attentive.

The entertainment she provides for her family is now sadly limited to occasional webcam shenanigans, since they are all far apart. Her sisters remain unimpressed by her writing career and only approve of her wicked stories when they can be assured the heroine is based upon them.

They wait patiently for a story in which everyone keeps their clothes on. Mostly they claim to have no clue where she gets her ideas.

She really doesn’t know either.