Hello Everyone,

Spring is a time of renewal and second chances. My erotic Regency romance, A MEASURED RISK, tells the story of a reclusive, repressed widow who has a chance at a new start in her young life.

Shy, studious Anne Bourchier, the dowager Countess of Cranfield, finds herself imprisoned by fear. This trauma developed after her husband was mauled to death by the carriage horses in an accident. He released his last breath in the circle of her trembling arms. She barely survived and since then has been crippled by her newfound terror of both horses and carriages.

When her late husband’s cousin, the new earl, comes home for the hunting season, she suddenly finds her private world invaded by a loud, fast, fashionable crowd that pushes the limits of what is considered scandalous. And she’s relegated to the position of an unwanted relic. She’s about to meet Jonathon Lloyd, the fascinating, virile, brave Earl of Ruel. He’s about to show her a whole new word of wickedly sensual experiences, both in bed and out, that she never dreamed existed. In return, he wants something that she never expected, her complete submission. Is she willing to take the risk?

A MEASURED RISK is on sale at the moment of this posting for 38p on Amazon UK and .99 on Amazon USA and .99 on Barnes and Nobles. I do not know when the sale will end. (Prices could change at any time.)

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A MEASURED  RISK features a shy, intellectual, strong-willed widow with real  life curves (Rubenesque/BBW) and a protective, possessive Dominant, alpha male  hero. This is a story of Dominance and submission with light BDSM, emotional  healing, trust and love.

A Measured  Risk is an Erotic Historical Romance. This means it contains graphic sexual language.  It also means that there is a greater focus on the development of the romance  through eroticism than in Mainstream/Traditional Steamy or Spicy Romance.

Excerpt from A MEASURED RISK:

“Why did you run away?” His deep voice settled in her belly, rich and warm, like crème brûlée on a cold winter’s night.

“Because I wanted you to follow.” She tried to sound sophisticated and seductive, but her voice choked off on the last word.

Ruel placed his hand on the shelf above her head and blocked her path to the door. His tall, solidly muscled body leaned over her, surrounding her with the sumptuous, sinful scents of tobacco, Scotch whisky and something masculine and undeniably dangerous. A slow, sensual smile stretched his hard mouth.

He appeared different. Softer. More approachable.

At the change, her insides seemed to flip over.

“Well, sweeting, getting us off alone was a very inspired idea.” He touched one of her fallen ringlets. “I am bored to distraction with endless hunting and fencing.”

As he slowly wrapped the curl around two fingers, he brushed her collarbone. Fiery sparks tingled down her spine, so intense that she shivered and her nipples beaded, pressing against her stays. By some instinct she hadn’t even known she possessed, she arched her back, presenting herself for his assessment.

His eyes shone so vividly blue against his bronzed face that they resembled cornflowers. She swallowed tightly and wished for a long drink of claret. This more personal side of him suddenly seemed far more hazardous than his usually fierce exterior.

Well, no matter. There was nothing to fear. She would allow only as much contact as need be to get to know him a little. Since being torn from her lonely yet secure life in Ireland and thrust into society at age sixteen, she’d spent her time allowing people only as near as was comfortable. She was an expert at emotional evasion.

An intimate smile, one that invited her to play, tugged at his mouth.

“In a situation like this, alone with a gentleman, it’s perfectly normal for a lady to feel some apprehension.” His hushed voice, barely audible above the piano and boisterous singing from down the corridor, accentuated their isolation. He brushed his fingertips over her cheek and his gaze became so piercing that she had to lower her eyes. “She will invariably ask herself if he will try to kiss her.”

She jerked her eyes back to his face. God, he couldn’t mean to—Not yet, surely… Peculiar, heated chills swept over her. She tried to take a step back, but found her arse flush against the bookshelf.

He leaned closer; so close that his Scotch-scented breath tickled her face. “And just in case you are wondering, Lady Cranfield—the answer is most assuredly yes.”

She should demand that he put his arm down so she could pass by and leave. She really should. But she couldn’t stop looking at his hard mouth and wondering what it would feel like upon hers. He was so close to her, his breath blew on her lips. If she moved but a fraction, she’d be kissing him.

Kissing him.

Dear God. Her breath began to come very fast and short. Her throat went tight with a suppressed moan.

His eyes burnt as brightly as aquamarines. He looked so fierce. If he kissed her, if he dared… Oh God, it would be so harsh. That cruel-looking mouth could express itself no other way.

Excitement rushed through her, sending tingles to every point of her body, even her toes.

But no, he wouldn’t. Not yet.

He kept leaning closer. He didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he seemed to focus all the harder upon her.

Heart pounding and unable to move away, she braced herself for his assault.

His lips brushed hers, barely. A gossamer caress.

He lifted his head.

It was done.

Ended.

And it hadn’t even begun.

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• About the Author
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NatashaBlackthorne

Natasha writes emotional, evocative, erotic historical romance featuring non-traditional and unconventional situations. Her stories are most frequently about the internal journey of the characters as they learn to open their hearts to love.

Her heroines are not perfect ladies. They are wildflowers and wallflowers who enjoy flirting with the forbidden. Whether they are bold or shy, her heroines’ strong desires and deep emotions drive the plot and drive their heroes to the point of no return.

natashablackthorne.blogspot.com/

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