"Pennyroyal Series Book 5-- A Must Read!!!"
Reviewed by Annette Stone
Posted April 8, 2011
Alexander Moncrieffe, Duke of Falconbridge is out for
revenge on the man he finds in bed with his fiancĂ©e.
What better way to get revenge than to seduce the man's
sister? But, what he doesn't plan on is how she makes him
Genevieve Eversea is in love, but when the man she has
worshiped for years announces he plans to marry another
her heart is broke in two. She discovers a distraction in
the Duke of Falconbridge. She knows she is not a beauty, at
least nothing like her sister. So what can he be up to
courting her? Besides, there is only one man she wants and
it is not the Duke... or is it?
When Genevieve finds herself in Alex's company over and
over during a week long gathering at her home, she begins to
find that he is not the man the ton has painted him to be;
nor is he the man he wants everyone to think he is.
Alex is surprised by how he feels in Genevieve's presence
he doesn't remember the last time he wanted to talk to a
woman and actually spend time with her. He soon realizes
that there is more to their relationship. Can he
convince Genevieve to give up on her dream of being with
the man she loves? Or will he lose her just when he started
to learn to love again?
In her next journey into the world of Pennyroyal Green,
Julie Anne Long brings another amazing tale of love with
WHAT I DID FOR A DUKE. The chemistry between Alex and
Genevieve is electrifying and humorous but still has
that romance factor we all love. Two hearts torn apart
mended back together where they least expected. Ms. Long
can always be relied on to bring everything a person could
want in a story, I look forward to her next creation.
For years, heâ€™s been an object of fear, fascinationâ€¦and
fantasy. But of all the wicked rumors that forever dog the
formidable Alexander Moncrieffe, Duke of Falconbridge, the
ton knows one thing for certain: only fools dare cross him.
And when Ian Eversea does just that, Moncrieffe knows the
perfect revenge: heâ€™ll seduce Ianâ€™s innocent sister,
Genevieveâ€”the only member of the powerful and wealthy
Eversea family as yet untouched by scandal. First heâ€™ll
capture her heart...and then heâ€™ll break it.
But everything about Genevieve is unexpected: the passion
simmering beneath her cool control, the sharp wit tempered
by a gentleness that coaxes out his deepest secretsâ€¦ And
though Genevieve has heard the whispers about the dukeâ€™s
dark past, and knows she trifles with him at her peril, one
incendiary kiss tempts her deeper into a world of
extraordinary sensuality. Until Genevieve is faced with a
fateful choiceâ€¦is there anything she won't do for a
ExcerptGenevieve Eversea tells herself the reason she's wandering
the house after midnight is that she's in search of just
the right book to help her sleep. It's of course just a
coincidence that she'd accidentally discovered a few nights
earlier that their houseguest, the notorious Duke of
Falconbridgeâ€”who has gone from dark legend to unnervingly
observant nuisance to wry ally to a source of sensual
fascination in a matter of daysâ€”never sleeps until after
She found him in the gray salon.
He was standing at the window, looking out at nothing
again. Arm upraised to hold the curtain aside. The line of
him was eloquent, fine as any sculpture. Perfectly shaped,
from shoulder to waist to thigh.
She halted in the doorway.
And as if he could actually hear her heart beating, he
turned. Very slowly.
Good heavens. The front of him was in disarray. His
slightly-too-long hair was every which way. His sleeves
were rolled up to the elbow. His cravat was untied and hung
unevenly. His shirt seemed to have been unbuttoned and then
rebuttoned crookedly, exposing a good deal of burnished
bare skin and curling dark hair at the throat. His whiskers
had gotten a good start on a beard.
"Good heavens," she blurted on a whisper. "What have you
been doing this evening?
Moncrieffe stared. The muscles of his stomach tightened,
and his lungs tightened, too. Her hair was down. She had
miles and miles of it, all shining like dark water. Her
face was small and delicate and white admist all of it. And
yet she'd clearly never undressed for sleep; her dress was
"Rescuing baby orphans," he said softly. "What does it look
like I've been doing?"
"It looks like you've been set upon by thieves."
He winced. "No need to scream, Miss Eversea. I was set upon
by thieves, euphemistically speaking. I prevailed. I
generally prevail over five-card loo." He grinned crookedly.
"I spoke in a perfectly ordinary conversational tone.
Mother says you've turned the withdrawing room into a Den
She was teasing him. And she was whispering now to protect
his sensitivities, which he suddenly found unbearably
touching. She was always so thoughtful.
He also found the soft voice unbearably sensual. It was
another texture of her, like that silken hair, and her
luminous skin, and those hands that hinted she was
everywhere soft. Whispers were the proper language for the
dark, after all.
"I divested a group of gentleman of a good deal of money in
five-card loo. Harry included," he said with a certain
mildly cruel satisfaction. "He's a surprisingly determined
and bold player, and I would warrant he oughtn't be playing
at all, given what you've told me of his straightened
finances, but that could be the reason he does play. He
does lose as often as he wins. We're in the country, for
God's sake. Outside of shooting and walking about, what is
there to do?"
He was half serious.
And it occurred to him, a thought that slipped through his
defenses as they'd been weakened by brandy, that she was
the reason he was staying in the country at all. That, and
ensuring Ian Eversea went pale every time he saw him and
flinched at every loud noise.
He became aware that she was smiling.
"We might have had a good deal to drink throughout the
game," he conceded. "And a good deal to smoke."
He won so frequently it had almost become dull. But then
all the men present were able to go home with a story about
how the Duke of Falconbridge bet chillingly large amounts
and raked in astonishing winnings. Fearless, they'd called
him. Ruthless. Cold. And etcetera.
She took a step closer and was about to take another one
when she paused with her slipper hovering off the ground.
Then stopped abruptly and moved the candle pointedly away
"If I come closer you'll ignite. I shouldn't like you
become Duke FlambĂ©. Did you drink the brandy, or bathe in
He gazed at her. "You're so solicitous of my welfare." He
was again touched that she didn't want set him alight.
"I'm more concerned about my mother's curtains. That
particular shade of velvet cost a fortune and I shouldn't
like to tell her I used a duke for kindling."
He smiled broadly at her.
She smiled in return.
And all at once it felt like a bright light had entered the
room, though illumination was provided only by her candle
and the gray light that managed to push its way through the
And after a moment. She settled the candle down on a tiny
It was a tiny, fraught gesture.
It meant she intended to stay. For a moment or two, anyhow.
Suddenly his heart was beating rapidly. He was cautious of
moving too quickly, lest he frighten the moment away.
"What makes you so certain it's brandy?" he was genuinely
curious. "Can you truly identify it just by the smell?"
"You've met my brothers."
The word "brother" was unfortunate in his weakened state,
when he was less capable of filtering feelings. His hand
twitched as though it would still have loved to close it
around Ian Eversea's throat. The very room seemed to
tighten around them like a steel band, such was the new
"They really did, you know," he said softly, suddenly.
"Did?" she was puzzled.
"The roses. Remind me of you. They're precisely the sort of
flowers you ought to have."
Those spectacular, throbbing, lush blooms that now stood
guard over her bed.
With petals unconscionably soft.
Something like pain or joy flickered over her face. His
words had penetrated deeply. And for a moment all either of
them heard was the soft, soft sound of swift breathing.
"Well, I wish you an easy night of it, though there seems
little hope of that," she said quickly, suddenly. "I'll
ring for a footman and send him down toâ€¦help you. Good niâ€”"
"Please don't go."
Words as unbidden as her presence, and shaken loose by
And the hand he would have used to choke Ian Eversea
reached out and landed just above her elbow and closed.
Firmly stopping her from leaving him.
Motionless, they stared at each other, and then they both
stared down at his hand, as though it belonged to someone
else, had naught to do with them.
And then his hand slid slowly up her arm as if it were a
road he had no choice but to follow. Up the soft skin of
her arm. It was so cool, such a silken, heartbreakingly
She tensed beneath his hand.
And when it touched her hair lying draped over her
shoulder, he exhaled softly. He sank his fingers into it,
then drew it slowly, slowly out, in aching wonder.
"It's what this night would feel like if I could seize hold
More words loosed by brandy and darkness and foolishness.
He wasn't sober enough to feel embarrassed by their
lyricism or to wonder how that sort of poetry got inside of
him and kept emerging around her. They merely struck him as
She gave a breathless, astonished laugh.
The laugh excited him. And he knew very well what short
He knew that Genevieve Eversea was excited.
Her eyes were shadows in her pale face, but he didn't sense
fear, only fascination. Her breath came swiftly through
parted lips. She didn't move to test whether he'd release
He wondered if he would release her if she tugged.
He decided he wouldn't.
But she didn't tug.
"Genevieve," he murmured speculatively, landing hard on
that first syllable, gliding over the next, as though they
were soft rolling Sussex hills, as though each syllable had
its very own character and deserved equal attention.
["Gideon" is the code word for the February '11 contest]
He wound more of her hair in his fist, again, and again. So
soft. And this manner he reeled her absurdly closer to him.
And she came to him.
She was so close her breath landed softly was on his chin.
She looked up at him. Their gazes fused.
"What did you think would happen, Miss Eversea, if you ever
encountered me alone in the dark?" he murmured.
And then he eased her head back with a final tug on her
hair, and brought his mouth down to hers.
What do you think about this review?
No comments posted.
Registered users may leave comments.
Log in or register now!