MASTER OF BLACKMOOR
by Julie Shelton
Danielle Dulac has just been sacked after spurning her employer’s lecherous advances. Penniless and without references, she is desperate to acquire the position of governess at Esterly House on the bleak Yorkshire moors. When the mail coach slides into a ditch in the middle of a blizzard, she is forced to seek shelter at the nearest house, Blackmoor Hall.
But visitors are not welcome at Blackmoor Hall and she gets sent to the stables to shelter from the storm. She is jerked out of sound slumber by a snow-blasted horse bursting into the stall, practically trampling her beneath his slashing hooves.
Anthony Markham, the Duke of Blackmoor, has just returned home after six months of dissolute living in London. He is surly, sarcastic, enigmatic, and hostile. And the most sensuous man Danielle has ever met. The attraction between them is instantaneous, combustible…and forbidden. Though a descendant of French nobility, Danielle is still a mere governess and Anthony Markham is a Duke.
When the position at Esterly House falls through, she has nowhere to go and faces a bleak future. To her shock, it’s Anthony Markham who comes to her rescue, offering her a position as governess to his four-year-old son, Geoffrey. Against her better judgment, she accepts.
She soon discovers that the Master of Blackmoor is haunted by a dark and tragic past filled with lies, betrayal and death. Unfortunately, the past is not over. Evil stalks Blackmoor Hall. The danger is escalating and all the clues point to the Duke himself.
As the passion between Anthony and Danielle rages out of control, so does the peril they face. Will they solve this mystery in time? Or will it wind up destroying them both?
They stood there for a long time, holding each other without speaking. Until, finally, Anthony loosened his arms, and looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. “Edward is running a tub full of hot water. I’ve been riding all over the estate today. Mustn’t greet my guests smelling like horse sweat.”
“I thought that was part of your charm.” She smiled.
“Would you care to join me?” He gave her a wicked grin. “You could wash my back…and other parts, if you are so inclined.”
She frowned. “Is that one of the activities on the official Duchess Duty List? I don’t recall seeing it.”
“I believe it’s number four.”
“Oh?” She let him turn her and guide her into their bedroom. He stepped up behind her and began unhooking her gown, bending his head to nuzzle his mouth against her ear, nibbling, kissing, licking, making her squirm with breathless delight. “I’m curious,” she managed to squeak when she could catch her breath. “What’s number one?”
He moved around to kiss the back of her neck, making her shiver. “I think you already know the answer to that one,” he said, his breath stirring the fine hairs at her nape as her dress and petticoats pooled at her feet. “But I’ll give you a hint.” Her corset and chemise quickly joined the rest of her garments and he lifted her over them and turned her to face him. She reached for his breeches and began sliding the buttons through the buttonholes, the backs of her fingers brushing against the hard ridge of his erection. “It begins with an F.”
“Oh. An F, you say. Fishing?” she teased. “I must confess I know nothing about handling a rod and reel.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You seem able to handle my rod well enough. And, no, it’s not Fishing.”
She tilted her head and batted her eyelashes. “Flirting?
“No, although you do it very well.”
“Oh, please tell me it’s not Fencing,” she said, pretending to give a delicate little shudder. “Such violence.”
His lips quirked. “I think you can safely eliminate Fencing.”
“Well, then.” She closed her hand around the base of his cock and pulled upward, wrenching a groan from his throat. “There’s only one thing it can be.” Slowly, gracefully, she sank to her knees in front of him and placed her lips to the ruddy, mottled head of his erect manhood, digging the tip of her tongue into the slit, making him groan and arch his back.
“Say it, wife. I want to hear that word coming from your lips. That decidedly nasty, exquisitely delicious word.”
“Fucking.” In one swift movement, she lowered her head while simultaneously sucking, a move that had him uttering a sharp cry of pleasure as his hips jerked forward, driving himself deep into her mouth. Twisting her hand around the base of his cock, she began bobbing her head up and down on his rod, making him suck in a hissing breath.
Placing both hands on her head, he gripped her hair, stilling her movements. Then, holding her head in place, he took control. Flexing his hips, he began fucking her mouth, slowly at first, gradually increasing speed until he could feel his cum boiling up out of his balls, ready to explode. He would have pulled out then and finished himself off with his hand, coming all over her face. But she tightened her grip around his base, giving him no choice but to release his load down her throat. He cried out as jet after jet of hot cum burst from him, splatting against the back of her throat.
She kept him in her mouth, sucking and licking and simply holding him there until he softened. Then she released him with a smacking sound and looked up at him. Bending, he placed his hands under her elbows and lifted her up off her knees.
“Thank you, my love. You have honored me by swallowing my seed. As much as I would love to return the favor, I fear we don’t have enough time right now.” He shoved down his breeches and stockings, then pulled his shirt over his head. “But believe me, dear wife,” he murmured, indicating that she was to precede him into the bathroom. “I will more than make up for it tonight.”
“See that you do,” she said with an imperious flick of her fingers as she sailed past him, making him laugh. “I would hate to be a widow after only one day of being a wife.”
Shaking his head, he followed close behind her, murmuring ruefully, “’T would seem I have created a monster.”
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QUOTES FROM REVIEWS5 STARS
“OMG!! I stayed late last night reading it because I couldn't put it down. I'm not normally a historical person but this was awesome!!! Thank you for letting me read it!!! 5 Stars!”
“This is hands down one of the BEST books I've read this year!”
“Julie Shelton has brought the Regency era to life with this intense scintillating story of a governess Danielle Dulac and the Master of Blackmoor Lord Anthony. A man living under a curse, a curse that has already cost him the lives of those he loved. His tortured soul has been lingering, waiting for the curse to finish him off. Until the day he meets Danielle Dulac A woman lost in a blizzard looking for refuge. When he first meets her he's cold, as cold as the storm raging outside. But when he really sees her, seeing the inner person his soul starts to yearn, wanting to consume her. But she is not safe with him. The curse will take her from him...so he must send her away...
A story full of the richest detail, complex characters that are as real as the people in your life. Her story is full of suspense, intrigue, gypsy curses, and Lords and Ladies. Her world is so captivating you will be saddened when it ends.
This tale has the drama, adventure, intrigue, and enough hot steamy sex to satisfy the romantic in everyone. A must read to all looking for a wonderful escape and an HEA to melt even the coldest heart!”
From fairies in the garden at age 9 to handcuffs in the boudoir at age 60, Julie’s writing has run the gamut. In between she managed to graduate cum laude with a B.A. in French from Georgia State University followed by a Master’s Degree in Library Science from Emory University. Having thus procured these two necessary but ultimately irrelevant pieces of paper, she launched a successful career as a children’s librarian, followed by an even more successful career as a professional storyteller and puppeteer. She published Kidstuff, an award-winning, monthly newsletter, as well as a book, Puppets, Poems and Songs, both major language arts resource for early childhood educators.
At various points in her life, if asked what she would like to be, her answer would have been (in rough chronological order, since some of these lofty ambitions overlapped): a fairy, a princess, a ballerina, Nancy Drew, Cherry Ames, a paleontologist, Scarlett O’Hara, thin and beautiful, an actress, and a writer. Now, at age 73, her answer to that question would most likely be, “younger”.
Followed closely, of course by bestselling author. Oh, and a princess. Some dreams die hard.
Now retired, Julie lives in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.
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