The Spare Heirs Society Cordially Invites You to Meet Ethan Moore: The Scoundrel
Lady Roselyn Grey’s debut has finally arrived, and of course, she has every flounce and flutter planned. She’ll wear the perfect gowns and marry the perfect gentleman…that is, if the formerly disinherited brother of the man she intends to marry doesn’t ruin everything first.
Ethan Moore is a prize-fighting second son and proud founding member of the Spare Heirs Society—and that’s all he ever should have been. But, in an instant, his brother’s noble title is his, the eyes of the ton are upon him, and the lady he’s loved for years would rather meet him in the boxing ring than the ballroom.
He’s faced worse. With the help of his Spare Heirs brotherhood, Ethan’s certain he can get to the bottom of his brother’s unexpected demise and win the impossible lady who has haunted his dreams for as long as he can remember…
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Learn more about Elizabeth and her books at elizabethmichels.com.
Elizabeth penned a guest post to celebrate the release of THE INFAMOUS HEIR ...
I admit it, I have a weakness. And my weakness is romantic comedies. There have been so many Saturday afternoons I’ve lost by walking through the living room when one of my favorites is playing on TV. Laundry and errands? What laundry and errands? I have to spend the next few hours curled up on the sofa, watching Dirty Dancing for the 473rd time. It’s this same magnetic pull toward a love story that inspired me to read romance novels, and to write them. So I thought I would share with you my one of favorite romantic comedies, and the romance novel it reminds me of.
In Notting Hill, a movie star stumbles into the life of a simple book store owner. After a beautiful time together away from the limelight, her life catches up with her and she runs, only to return to the simplicity of the life he once offered her. Similarly, Alessandra Torre’s Hollywood Dirt features a Hollywood bad boy and a small town girl from Georgia. Sometimes worlds really should collide, because it’s awesome to watch. I love getting a glimpse of famous people behind the scenes and seeing how their world fits into normal life. If you enjoy the idea of opposites attracting, try this book on for size.
Do you have a favorite romantic comedy? Does the plot remind you of a book you enjoyed?
“You can’t spare a footman to haul my trunks and valise inside?” Roselyn asked.
Mr. Ethan Moore didn’t seem to mind the rain that splashed down on them in the drive. “I’m afraid not.”
“Not a single servant to assist your guests as they arrive? And I thought Ormesby Place to be a welcoming, organized home. The devil it is.” She muttered the last bit under her breath, sure he hadn’t heard her.
“What was that, my lady?” he asked, leaning in.
“Oh, nothing.” How had he heard her comment? She always tried to be so careful of such things. It was as if the ugly habits she’d worked so diligently to eliminate from her life were rising to the surface against her will. And she blamed Mr. Ethan Moore for every bit of it.
“If your precious possessions mean so much to you, princess, I will personally assist you with your things.”
Finally he was going to see reason. She smiled in relief. “Well, that was all I required. Thank you.”
He bent and lifted the small valise from the top of the pile of trunks, slinging it over his shoulder with a grin. “That trunk looks light enough. You should be able to manage it.” With those careless words, he turned and began to stroll away toward the door.
Was he whistling? What an infuriating man!
Roselyn stood rooted to the ground in shock for a moment, watching him walk away through the rain. Then, something snapped within her. The gently bred lady she tried to portray was stripped away, leaving behind the young, reckless girl she thought she’d outgrown years ago. He couldn’t walk away from her in such a manner.
She took two steps to the edge of a flower bed, scooped up a fistful of fresh soil within her white- gloved hand and flung it as hard as she could at Mr. Moore’s back. Watching as it splattered across his upper arm, slinging droplets onto his cheek, she felt a moment of visceral triumph. Then she gaped at him.
What had she done? She hadn’t even considered doing anything so childish in years— not since that summer when she’d set a trap to trip him as he crossed one of the fields, then laughed as he tugged her down into the dirt with him. The memory of her laughter faded as reality set in. Her plans! What had she been thinking? But, of course, she hadn’t been thinking.
He turned, an affronted look crossing his face as he stared at her.
In that moment, in spite of their current ages, he was the boy next door again, chasing Katie and her through the woods as they cackled with glee. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.
He glanced down at his arm in disbelief, dropped her valise to the ground, and began prowling toward her. Oh. Perhaps this had been a mistake. A challenging gleam filled his eyes, turning them as dark as black water in a cold lake.
Oh dear. She blinked once, twice, then turned and ran.
She’d made it to the corner of the house where the edge of the lush gardens overlooked the moors when she felt a large hand wrap around her upper arm, dragging her to a halt. She could feel the heat of him behind her. She had never been so close to a man before. Her heart hammered within her body. Even Lord Ayton had never dared touch her like this. She’d never felt a gentleman’s body pressed into hers as Mr. Moore’s was now.
“Leaving so soon?” he murmured, his lips almost grazing the rim of her ear.
I admit it, I have a weakness. And my weakness is romantic comedies. There have been so many Saturday afternoons I’ve lost by walking through the living room when one of my favorites is playing on TV. Laundry and errands? What laundry and errands? I have to spend the next few hours curled up on the sofa, watching Dirty Dancing for the 473rd time. It’s this same magnetic pull toward a love story that inspired me to read romance novels, and to write them. So I thought I would share with you my one of favorite romantic comedies, and the romance novel it reminds me of.
Do you have a favorite romantic comedy? Does the plot remind you of a book you enjoyed?
Sourcebooks is hosting a special giveaway at this link ... and offers an excerpt from THE INFAMOUS HEIR ...
“You can’t spare a footman to haul my trunks and valise inside?” Roselyn asked.
Mr. Ethan Moore didn’t seem to mind the rain that splashed down on them in the drive. “I’m afraid not.”
“Not a single servant to assist your guests as they arrive? And I thought Ormesby Place to be a welcoming, organized home. The devil it is.” She muttered the last bit under her breath, sure he hadn’t heard her.
“What was that, my lady?” he asked, leaning in.
“Oh, nothing.” How had he heard her comment? She always tried to be so careful of such things. It was as if the ugly habits she’d worked so diligently to eliminate from her life were rising to the surface against her will. And she blamed Mr. Ethan Moore for every bit of it.
“If your precious possessions mean so much to you, princess, I will personally assist you with your things.”
Finally he was going to see reason. She smiled in relief. “Well, that was all I required. Thank you.”
He bent and lifted the small valise from the top of the pile of trunks, slinging it over his shoulder with a grin. “That trunk looks light enough. You should be able to manage it.” With those careless words, he turned and began to stroll away toward the door.
Was he whistling? What an infuriating man!
Roselyn stood rooted to the ground in shock for a moment, watching him walk away through the rain. Then, something snapped within her. The gently bred lady she tried to portray was stripped away, leaving behind the young, reckless girl she thought she’d outgrown years ago. He couldn’t walk away from her in such a manner.
She took two steps to the edge of a flower bed, scooped up a fistful of fresh soil within her white- gloved hand and flung it as hard as she could at Mr. Moore’s back. Watching as it splattered across his upper arm, slinging droplets onto his cheek, she felt a moment of visceral triumph. Then she gaped at him.
What had she done? She hadn’t even considered doing anything so childish in years— not since that summer when she’d set a trap to trip him as he crossed one of the fields, then laughed as he tugged her down into the dirt with him. The memory of her laughter faded as reality set in. Her plans! What had she been thinking? But, of course, she hadn’t been thinking.
He turned, an affronted look crossing his face as he stared at her.
In that moment, in spite of their current ages, he was the boy next door again, chasing Katie and her through the woods as they cackled with glee. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.
He glanced down at his arm in disbelief, dropped her valise to the ground, and began prowling toward her. Oh. Perhaps this had been a mistake. A challenging gleam filled his eyes, turning them as dark as black water in a cold lake.
Oh dear. She blinked once, twice, then turned and ran.
She’d made it to the corner of the house where the edge of the lush gardens overlooked the moors when she felt a large hand wrap around her upper arm, dragging her to a halt. She could feel the heat of him behind her. She had never been so close to a man before. Her heart hammered within her body. Even Lord Ayton had never dared touch her like this. She’d never felt a gentleman’s body pressed into hers as Mr. Moore’s was now.
“Leaving so soon?” he murmured, his lips almost grazing the rim of her ear.
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