#earl of westhaven

[somuttersthesea]

[8/10] favorite grace burrowes regency couples :: gayle + anna windham

the earl was silent behind her, winding her hair into a long braid.

“were your parents happy?” he asked at length.

“i believe they were, and my grandparents were.”

“as are mine, as were mine,” the earl said, fishing her hair ribbon out of his pocket and tying off her braid. “can you not trust yourself, anna, to choose the kind of husband i describe rather than that nightmare you recount?”

“the choice of a woman’s husband is often not hers, and the way a man presents himself when courting is not how he will necessarily behave when his wife is fat with his third child a few years later.”

“a housekeeper sees things from a curious and unpleasant perspective.” he hunched forward to wrap his arms around her shoulders. “you will not be my mistress,” the earl said again, “and you are very leery of becoming a wife, but what, anna, would you think of becoming a duchess?”

{the heir}

[loveinquotesposts]

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Forgive me, Mother. He bowed. My argument is with my father. Well, the duke announced himself and paused for dramatic effect in the doorway of the private parlor. No need to look further. You can have at me now. You are having Anna Seaton investigated, the earl said, and it could well cost her her safety. Then marry her, the duke shot back. A husband can protect a wife, particularly if he’s wealthy, titled, smart, and well connected. Your mother has assured me she does not object to the match. You don’t deny this? Do you have any idea the damage you do with your dirty tricks, sly maneuvers, and stupid manipulations? That woman is terrified, nigh paralyzed with fear for herself and her younger relation, and you go stomping about in her life as if you are God Almighty come to earth for the purpose of directing everybody else’s personal life. The duke paced into the room, color rising in his face. That is mighty brave talk for a man who can’t see fit to take a damned wife after almost ten years of looking. What in God’s name is wrong with you, Westhaven? I know you cater to women, and I know you are carrying on with this Seaton woman. She’s comely, convenient, and of child-bearing age. I should have thought to have her investigated, I tell you, so I might find some way to coerce her to the altar. You already tried coercion, Westhaven shot back, and it’s only because Gwen Allen is a decent human being her relations haven’t ruined us completely in retaliation for your failed schemes. I am ashamed to be your son and worse than ashamed to be your heir. You embarrass me, and I wish to hell I could disinherit you, because if I don’t find you a damned broodmare, I’ve every expectation you will disinherit me. Gayle! His mother was on her feet, her expression horror-stricken. Please, for the love of God, apologize. His Grace did not have Mrs. Seaton investigated. Esther… His Grace tried to get words out, but his wife had eyes only for her enraged son. He most certainly did, Westhaven bit out. Up to his old tricks, just as he was with Gwen and with Elise and with God knows how many hapless debutantes and scheming widows. I am sick to death of it, Mother, and this is the last straw. Esther, His Grace tried again. Hush, Percy, the duchess said miserably, still staring at her son. His Grace did not have your Mrs. Seaton investigated. She paused and dropped Westhaven’s gaze. I did. Esther, the duke gasped as he dropped like a stone onto a sofa. For the love of God, help me. ― Grace Burrowes, The Heir

#EliseTitleLoveQuotes, #GraceBurrowes, #GraceBurrowesEliseTitleLoveQuotes, #GraceBurrowesQuotes, #TheHeir, #TheHeirQuotes

[thesassybooskter]

GOOD GIRLS LIE by J. T. Ellison: Excerpt & Spotlight

AVAILABLE DECEMBER 31ST 2019/ MIRA

Goode girls don’t lie…

Perched atop a hill in the tiny town of Marchburg, Virginia, The Goode School is a prestigious prep school known as a Silent Ivy. The boarding school of choice for daughters of the rich and influential, it accepts only the best and the brightest. Its elite status, long-held traditions and honor code are ideal for preparing exceptional young women for brilliant futures at Ivy League universities and beyond. But a stranger has come to Goode, and this ivy has turned poisonous.

In a world where appearances are everything, as long as students pretend to follow the rules, no one questions the cruelties of the secret societies or the dubious behavior of the privileged young women who expect to get away with murder. But when a popular student is found dead, the truth cannot be ignored. Rumors suggest she was struggling with a secret that drove her to suicide.

But look closely…because there are truths and there are lies, and then there is everything that really happened.

J.T. Ellison’s pulse-pounding new novel examines the tenuous bonds of friendship, the power of lies and the desperate lengths people will go to to protect their secrets.

  Buy Online: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Apple Books

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  Excerpt

8

THE WARNING

The room next to ours looks exactly the same, like it’s out of a sleek, modern hotel. The “something” Piper offers is a black satin sheath with a black lace overlay. Simple. Elegant. An Audrey Hepburn movie costume. She hands it over, the price tag still dangling from the collar. Rents can be paid with such a sum.

“You can keep it. I have another almost identical,” Piper says.

I demur and hand it back. “Thanks. I’ll take my chances with the dean.”

 Piper shrugs and hangs the dress back up in the wooden wardrobe. “Suit yourself. If you keep your robe tight, maybe she won’t notice. It’ll be in your wardrobe with your uniform skirts—standard issue, everyone gets them. The seniors’ stoles are black with a white stripe, we lowly sophomores are blue. Freshmen are red—they stand out, trust me, I felt like I had a target on my back all last year—and juniors are dark green. Graduation stoles are different, multicolored based on your area of study, just like a college. I’m ready for the black-and-white stoles, they’re so much easier to match. Our blue—” she pulls the stole out of her gown; it is a sickly pewter blue and doesn’t work with her coloring at all “—is a pain, I look terrible in it. Though you can imagine how I clashed with the red last year. You will need to get some dressy clothes, though, we have a lot of formal events.”

She closes the wardrobe and faces me, looking me up and down with cool, inscrutable blue eyes. She would look severe if it weren’t for the freckles. They ruin the seriousness of her demeanor. She will always look like a girl, not a woman, even when she’s fifty.

“You might as well stick to black. It goes with everything, looks good under the robes, and your coloring is perfect for it.”

“Black. Right.” The color of mourning. I’ve been in black a lot recently.

“I’ll take you shopping if you want. There’s a nice little boutique around the corner. Next to the laundry, which is part of the restaurant where we eat on the weekend, Jacob’s Ladder. It has a pool table, too. It’s not exactly couture, but they’ll have a skirt or two that will work. What else do you need to know? Oh, stay away from the handyman. He’s a creeper. And remember not to walk alone along the back path through Selden Arboretum if you take the shortcut.” Her voice has taken on the warning edge I’ve already heard several times this afternoon.

“Not another ‘I won’t graduate’ legend?”

“Oh, no. The arboretum is haunted.”

“Haunted. A path? Ludicrous.”

“Seriously. It cuts through the woods, and a girl was murdered there.”

“How horrible. When?”

“Ten years ago. That’s when Dean Westhaven—the current Dean Westhaven, I mean—took over from her mother. It’s why she’s so young. She was only twenty-five when it happened. The board sent Westhaven the elder packing over the bad PR. The student, Ellie Robertson, she was the heir to some massive New England fortune, I don’t remember whose. Her dad has serious pull and, after the whole incident, got the dean removed.”

“The incident? That’s a mild word for a murder.”

“The school’s verbiage. They’re always in publicity mode. Ellie had been complaining to anyone who would listen, the dean, school security, teachers, about a townie who was stalking her and the dean didn’t do anything about it. One night, late, the guy followed her home from the laundry and killed her behind the dorms. Raped her, too. There are varying stories about the damage he did to her face, but supposedly, he carved out her eyes and took them home with him. They found them on his mantel. Really freaky shit.”

An intense shiver goes down my spine. “I’ll say.”

“So seriously, you never walk the arboretum path alone. Even if it’s not haunted, it’s creepy and not safe. It’s outside the walls.” This last is said with such earnestness I simply nod.

“Outside the walls equals not safe alone. Got it.” “And stay out of the attics. They’re totally haunted. Supposedly, one of the secret societies found several sets of infants’ bones up there a few years ago, in between the ceiling and the wall. I don’t know what they were doing there.”

“The society?”

“The bones. They were probably the children of some of the girls who lived here, stillborns and the like. You’d think they’d bury them, the graveyard is actually pretty cool.”

“Brilliant. Haunted attics with infant bones in the walls. This sounds like a stellar place.”

“Well, Goode is old, and when you get old, you get weird. Oh, I almost forgot, be careful in the tunnels.”

“The tunnels?”

“There was an Underground Railroad through here. You know what that is, right?”

“Vaguely. To do with slavery, yes?”

“We were a safe haven from the plantations down South to the free North. Pretty cool. The grounds are littered with tunnels and old cottages, but they’re totally off-limits. They’re dangerous, and most of them have collapsed in on themselves.”

“Where would I find one?”

“I don’t know, actually. I’ve only been told to stay away.”

The deep, resonating peal of a very old bell shudders through the building, making me jump nearly out of my skin.

Piper intones, “For whom the bell tolls… Don’t worry, Ash. You’ll get used to it. Even when the hauntings happen, the bells toll and chase away the ghosts. They don’t like the noise.”

She smiles, and I feel a spark of hope. She might be a friend, eventually.

“I can’t imagine why not. It’s unbelievably loud.”

“It’s really not to chase away ghosts. It’s so we never try to use not hearing the bell as an excuse for being late.”

“Right. Brilliant.”

Camille sticks her head in the door. “Are you two coming? You heard the bells, we’re going to be late. Ash, why haven’t you changed yet? Hurry! I don’t want JPs on my first day!”

“JPs?”

“Judicial points. It’s like demerits. Get five and you’re stuck in Saturday school. Hurry!”

Mum’s voice rings in my head. Pride goeth before the fall…

“Hey, Piper? Thanks for the warning, and the offer of the dress. I would appreciate borrowing it. But just for today, until I get some of my own.”

“Sure thing,” Piper says, handing it over. I run back to the room, strip, and throw the dress over my head, careful to make sure the price tag is tucked into the collar. I fully intend to hand it back after dinner, though I should probably have it cleaned. The trainers I’m wearing will not do. I have a pair of black flats tucked away in my bag, shoved into the shafts of my beat-up Dr. Martens. I dig through the bag; the boots are at the bottom. The second dong of the bell shakes the building, and by the third, I’m out in the hall, fully clothed, gowned, and shod, and we are racing down the stairs with the rest of the stragglers, out the back of Main Hall toward the chapel.

  About J. T. Ellison

J.T. Ellison began her career as a presidential appointee in the White House, where a nuclear physicist taught her how to obsess over travel itineraries and make a seriously good pot of Earl Grey, spawning both her love of loose leaf and a desire for control of her own destiny. Jaded by the political climate in D.C., she made her way back to her first love, creative writing. More than 20 novels later, she is an award-winning New York Times and USA Today bestselling author with thrillers published in 27 countries and 15 languages. She is also the EMMY-award winning cohost of A WORD ON WORDS, a literary interview TV show. She lives in Nashville with her husband and two small gray minions, known as cats in some cultures. She thinks they’re furry aliens.

Website | Twitter | Facebook

  GOOD GIRLS LIE by J. T. Ellison: Excerpt & Spotlight was originally published on The Sassy Bookster

[actionbookz-blog]

Get 'The Heir' on OFFER for a Limited Time Only!

Here: https://www.bookzio.com/the-heir-3/

Enter the lush, vibrant Regency world of the Windham family in this reissue of New York Times bestselling author Grace Burrowes’ beloved debut novelAn earl who can’t be bribedA lady who can’t be protectedGayle Windham, Earl of Westhaven, is the dutiful heir to the Duke of Moreland. Tired of his father’s unrelenting pressure to marry, he escapes to his London townhouse for the summer, where he finds himself intrigued by the secretive ways of his beautiful housekeeper. Anna Seaton is a talented, educated woman…so what is she doing here?As the two begin to lose their hearts, Anna’s secrets threaten to bring the earl’s orderly life crashing down—and he doesn’t know how he’s going to protect her from the fallout…The Windhams: The Duke’s Obsession The Heir (Book 1)The Soldier (Book 2)The Virtuoso (Book 3)What People Are Saying about New York Times bestseller The Heir:”Luminous and graceful… a refreshing and captivating love story.” —Publishers Weekly Starred Review”Outstanding…a witty, sensual, Regency romance.” —Booklist Starred Review”Tons of intrigue, searing seduction, and wonderful humor…a must read for fans of Georgette Heyer.” —Night Owl Reviews, Top Pick”Burrowes’s fresh, gorgeous writing held me riveted from start to finish.” —Meredith Duran”Enchanting.” —RT Book Reviews, 4 Stars

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[loveinquotesposts]

https://loveinquotes.com/forgive-me-mother-he-bowed-my-argument-is-with-my-father-well-the-duke-announced-himself-and-paused-for-dramatic-effect-in-the-doorway-of-the-private-parlor-no-need-to-look-further-you-can-have/

Forgive me, Mother. He bowed. My argument is with my father. Well, the duke announced himself and paused for dramatic effect in the doorway of the private parlor. No need to look further. You can have at me now. You are having Anna Seaton investigated, the earl said, and it could well cost her her safety. Then marry her, the duke shot back. A husband can protect a wife, particularly if he’s wealthy, titled, smart, and well connected. Your mother has assured me she does not object to the match. You don’t deny this? Do you have any idea the damage you do with your dirty tricks, sly maneuvers, and stupid manipulations? That woman is terrified, nigh paralyzed with fear for herself and her younger relation, and you go stomping about in her life as if you are God Almighty come to earth for the purpose of directing everybody else’s personal life. The duke paced into the room, color rising in his face. That is mighty brave talk for a man who can’t see fit to take a damned wife after almost ten years of looking. What in God’s name is wrong with you, Westhaven? I know you cater to women, and I know you are carrying on with this Seaton woman. She’s comely, convenient, and of child-bearing age. I should have thought to have her investigated, I tell you, so I might find some way to coerce her to the altar. You already tried coercion, Westhaven shot back, and it’s only because Gwen Allen is a decent human being her relations haven’t ruined us completely in retaliation for your failed schemes. I am ashamed to be your son and worse than ashamed to be your heir. You embarrass me, and I wish to hell I could disinherit you, because if I don’t find you a damned broodmare, I’ve every expectation you will disinherit me. Gayle! His mother was on her feet, her expression horror-stricken. Please, for the love of God, apologize. His Grace did not have Mrs. Seaton investigated. Esther… His Grace tried to get words out, but his wife had eyes only for her enraged son. He most certainly did, Westhaven bit out. Up to his old tricks, just as he was with Gwen and with Elise and with God knows how many hapless debutantes and scheming widows. I am sick to death of it, Mother, and this is the last straw. Esther, His Grace tried again. Hush, Percy, the duchess said miserably, still staring at her son. His Grace did not have your Mrs. Seaton investigated. She paused and dropped Westhaven’s gaze. I did. Esther, the duke gasped as he dropped like a stone onto a sofa. For the love of God, help me. ― Grace Burrowes, The Heir

#EliseTitleLoveQuotes, #GraceBurrowes, #GraceBurrowesEliseTitleLoveQuotes, #GraceBurrowesQuotes, #TheHeir, #TheHeirQuotes

[loveinquotesposts]

https://loveinquotes.com/forgive-me-mother-he-bowed-my-argument-is-with-my-father-well-the-duke-announced-himself-and-paused-for-dramatic-effect-in-the-doorway-of-the-private-parlor-no-need-to-look-further-you-can-have/

Forgive me, Mother. He bowed. My argument is with my father. Well, the duke announced himself and paused for dramatic effect in the doorway of the private parlor. No need to look further. You can have at me now. You are having Anna Seaton investigated, the earl said, and it could well cost her her safety. Then marry her, the duke shot back. A husband can protect a wife, particularly if he’s wealthy, titled, smart, and well connected. Your mother has assured me she does not object to the match. You don’t deny this? Do you have any idea the damage you do with your dirty tricks, sly maneuvers, and stupid manipulations? That woman is terrified, nigh paralyzed with fear for herself and her younger relation, and you go stomping about in her life as if you are God Almighty come to earth for the purpose of directing everybody else’s personal life. The duke paced into the room, color rising in his face. That is mighty brave talk for a man who can’t see fit to take a damned wife after almost ten years of looking. What in God’s name is wrong with you, Westhaven? I know you cater to women, and I know you are carrying on with this Seaton woman. She’s comely, convenient, and of child-bearing age. I should have thought to have her investigated, I tell you, so I might find some way to coerce her to the altar. You already tried coercion, Westhaven shot back, and it’s only because Gwen Allen is a decent human being her relations haven’t ruined us completely in retaliation for your failed schemes. I am ashamed to be your son and worse than ashamed to be your heir. You embarrass me, and I wish to hell I could disinherit you, because if I don’t find you a damned broodmare, I’ve every expectation you will disinherit me. Gayle! His mother was on her feet, her expression horror-stricken. Please, for the love of God, apologize. His Grace did not have Mrs. Seaton investigated. Esther… His Grace tried to get words out, but his wife had eyes only for her enraged son. He most certainly did, Westhaven bit out. Up to his old tricks, just as he was with Gwen and with Elise and with God knows how many hapless debutantes and scheming widows. I am sick to death of it, Mother, and this is the last straw. Esther, His Grace tried again. Hush, Percy, the duchess said miserably, still staring at her son. His Grace did not have your Mrs. Seaton investigated. She paused and dropped Westhaven’s gaze. I did. Esther, the duke gasped as he dropped like a stone onto a sofa. For the love of God, help me. ― Grace Burrowes, The Heir

#EliseTitleLoveQuotes, #GraceBurrowes, #GraceBurrowesEliseTitleLoveQuotes, #GraceBurrowesQuotes, #TheHeir, #TheHeirQuotes

[loveinquotesposts]

https://loveinquotes.com/forgive-me-mother-he-bowed-my-argument-is-with-my-father-well-the-duke-announced-himself-and-paused-for-dramatic-effect-in-the-doorway-of-the-private-parlor-no-need-to-look-further-you-can-have/

Forgive me, Mother. He bowed. My argument is with my father. Well, the duke announced himself and paused for dramatic effect in the doorway of the private parlor. No need to look further. You can have at me now. You are having Anna Seaton investigated, the earl said, and it could well cost her her safety. Then marry her, the duke shot back. A husband can protect a wife, particularly if he’s wealthy, titled, smart, and well connected. Your mother has assured me she does not object to the match. You don’t deny this? Do you have any idea the damage you do with your dirty tricks, sly maneuvers, and stupid manipulations? That woman is terrified, nigh paralyzed with fear for herself and her younger relation, and you go stomping about in her life as if you are God Almighty come to earth for the purpose of directing everybody else’s personal life. The duke paced into the room, color rising in his face. That is mighty brave talk for a man who can’t see fit to take a damned wife after almost ten years of looking. What in God’s name is wrong with you, Westhaven? I know you cater to women, and I know you are carrying on with this Seaton woman. She’s comely, convenient, and of child-bearing age. I should have thought to have her investigated, I tell you, so I might find some way to coerce her to the altar. You already tried coercion, Westhaven shot back, and it’s only because Gwen Allen is a decent human being her relations haven’t ruined us completely in retaliation for your failed schemes. I am ashamed to be your son and worse than ashamed to be your heir. You embarrass me, and I wish to hell I could disinherit you, because if I don’t find you a damned broodmare, I’ve every expectation you will disinherit me. Gayle! His mother was on her feet, her expression horror-stricken. Please, for the love of God, apologize. His Grace did not have Mrs. Seaton investigated. Esther… His Grace tried to get words out, but his wife had eyes only for her enraged son. He most certainly did, Westhaven bit out. Up to his old tricks, just as he was with Gwen and with Elise and with God knows how many hapless debutantes and scheming widows. I am sick to death of it, Mother, and this is the last straw. Esther, His Grace tried again. Hush, Percy, the duchess said miserably, still staring at her son. His Grace did not have your Mrs. Seaton investigated. She paused and dropped Westhaven’s gaze. I did. Esther, the duke gasped as he dropped like a stone onto a sofa. For the love of God, help me. ― Grace Burrowes, The Heir

#EliseTitleLoveQuotes, #GraceBurrowes, #GraceBurrowesEliseTitleLoveQuotes, #GraceBurrowesQuotes, #TheHeir, #TheHeirQuotes