Title: A Ghostly Affair (Diamonds of London #7)
Author: Sandra Sookoo
Genre: Historical romance, Regency romance
Book Blurb:
When a lady has failed to find love in the usual ways, she will turn to the paranormal…
American Miss Arabella Tamsyn Goodridge has never belonged anywhere, but when one of her British cousins wishes for her to be a part of her upcoming nuptial ceremony ahead of the All Hallow’s celebrations, she jumps at the chance, especially when they’re staying in haunted Coventry Castle, set close to the Scottish Highlands. She has always believed in ghosts and ghouls, yet she’s dismally practical, except when it comes to falling in love with the resident spirit… apparently.
Percival Allan Bradenton—Marquess of Coventry—and half Scottish on his father’s side, has been missing and presumed dead for two years. Without a body, his uncle can’t legally claim the title, but Allan refuses to come out of hiding until he can figure out who wishes to kill him. To stave off boredom as well as look for clues, he haunts his family’s castle in the countryside in the Highlands, until one night when he stumbles into a woman who turns his head and changes his life… exceptionally.
With her knowledge of herbal remedies and ease in bonding with animals, Bella is often slandered as a witch, but when she comes upon a man who should be dead and desire flares, she partners with him in solving a mystery. With a plot afoot to keep Allan from his birthright, danger bedevils them. As Halloween and the wedding quickly approaches, she and Allan strive to keep him alive, and unless they’re fortunate in flushing out the guilty party in theatrical fashion, they’ll never have a chance for a romance they never knew they needed… eternally.
… for there is no use for a societal reputation when a delicious ghost is involved.
Excerpt:
Inching slowly down the passageway, she came to a panel that was cracked open. That was odd, even for this place. Curious, and more than slightly chilled, she pushed the wooden panel ahead of her and stepped through with a gasp. The passageway opened into a large bedchamber, and from what little she could see with the single candle burning on the mantel, it had at least two adjoining rooms.
“What is all this?” Barely was Arabella aware she’d spoken aloud. As she moved more fully into the room, she set her brass candleholder on the nearest table. Of course, this was strange and odd, but she couldn’t quite let go of the logic she’d been raised with. This wasn’t the apartment of a ghost, for apparitions and the like didn’t need material trappings, and they certainly didn’t require furniture to bring them comfort.
However, the room was elegantly appointed with heavy draperies in maroon and navy velvet, matching colors in brocade upholstery, groupings of masculine furniture of leather and cherry wood, a massive four poster bed in a medieval style with a stepping stool to access the bed because it was so high off the floor. It had been dressed with a counterpane shot with golden thread and these same colors were echoed in the drapes at the windows and around the bed. Scottish tapestries hung on the walls; thick Aubusson carpeting lay on the stone floors.
As she moved her gaze about the room, she took in the flickering flames of a dying fire in the hearth behind an ornate metal grate, but even more ominous was the rumpled bedclothes as if someone had gotten up from slumber or was preparing to enter it. The obvious signs of occupation with the detritus of a dinner tray and teacups resting on a table sent a host of shivers down her spine.
Gooseflesh raced over her skin. Why was any of this here? Finally, she realized where she must be, for she didn’t recognize any of it, and the furnishings were older in style than what she had in her own room. The west wing. This side of the castle was off limits and in disrepair in places.
“What is this, then?” And more to the point, who was living here? Because it wasn’t a ghost, of that she was certain.
Then the panel closed behind her with a whisper that she wouldn’t have even noticed except for the disturbance of wind it caused. Arabella gasped, and when she turned about, it was to face a rather imposing man with hair the color of a raven’s wing that gleamed in the candlelight and eyes so blue they could have been made of sea glass.
And he was glaring at her as if she upset the balance of the heavens with her presence. And, dear heavens, they were the same eyes from the painting. How was that possible?
“What the devil are you doing here?” That deep baritone coupled with the honest annoyance shadowing his eyes as he glared sent odd feelings of heightened awareness sailed over her skin.
But she refused to be cowed. If a fight was needed, she’d give him that. “I’ll answer your question with one of my own: where the devil am I?”
“Nowhere you need to know or even remember.” As he spoke, he closed the distance between them until merely a handsbreadth separated them.
She snorted to cover her confusion as well as the heat rising in her cheeks at his alarming proximity. “Since I am obviously here and unlikely to forget where here is, you should explain post haste. Also, why do you wish to keep it a secret?” How very daring of her!
If possible, his large presence seemed to fill every available space. There was no way for her to ignore him, especially since he was so close his scent of sandalwood, citrus, and leather teased her nose. “Since, by your own admission, you don’t plan to forget what you’ve seen here, we now have a problem,” he countered as if she hadn’t asked a question.
It might have been a product of her imagination, but easily she could envision this man, not dressed in tan breeches, a lawn shirt with loose-flowing sleeves, and a brown tweed waistcoat but instead wearing a kilt in his clan’s tartan. Wielding a large broadsword, ready to defend his family and what he considered his from invaders and enemies.
“Again, I shall ask why?”
A muscle in his cheek ticked, or rather she assumed it did as she could only see subtle movement beneath the several days’ growth of stubble that clung to his face and jaw. That beard, so hated by society matrons everywhere, fascinated her. “Because, I am a ghost.”
“There must be something in the air here in Scotland that everyone thinks to make jest of.” Arabella huffed at his explanation, but even as a thrill went down her spine, her practical, logical side said it was impossible. “I somehow doubt that. Ghosts don’t exist… I think. Which means you have snuck into the castle and are a vagrant, possibly an ex-solider judging by the fact your form isn’t flabby, nor do you have a paunch as so many men do.” Indeed, he was quite a handsome intruder with a barrel chest, wide shoulders, and a rugged jawline beneath that beard that could fire many a woman’s fantasy.
Another round of heat infused her cheeks.
“I never served in the military.” With every word, the warmth of his breath skated over her cheek, he was that close, maneuvered around her so that he was between her and the room.
“Ah.” Ghosts didn’t need to draw breath or exhale. “So then?” She glanced up into his face. The eyes were slightly familiar to her, but why? Never had she met this man. “Who are you and why are you here?”
“I cannae tell you.”
“Hmm.” An interesting development, and that burr awoke butterflies in her lower belly she assumed she would never experience again. “Hiding away, uncommonly handsome, solid presence with the veriest hint of a Scottish accent that English culture can’t quite remove, familiarity with the castle, keeping secrets.” Oh, dear Lord! She gasped again and retreated from him until the panel behind her halted her flight. “You are the missing marquess, the man who should be dead.”
Except, he clearly wasn’t.
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):
If you could dress up as anything or anyone this Halloween, what or who would it be and why?
Interesting question. I’m not a big celebrator of Halloween. I’m more of a fall/autumn girl, but in the past, I have dressed up as Minnie Mouse, Evvie from The Mummy, or even a 1920’s flapper girl to hand out candy. Usually, it’s too cold or rainy to do the trick or treat thing here, so my husband and I just go out to dinner.
Explain why your featured book is a treat to read:
It’s set in the Regency era in the Scottish Highlands during Samhain (Halloween) There’s a ghost (or is there?) and a wedding as well as secret passageways and a murder plot. What’s not to love?
Giveaway –
One lucky reader will win a $100 Amazon gift card.
Open internationally.
Runs October 1 – 31, 2024
Drawing will be held on November 1, 2024.
Author Biography:
Sandra Sookoo is a USA Today bestselling author who firmly believes every person deserves acceptance and a happy ending. That is why her characters are not in the usual style and oftentimes struggle with things out of the norm. She’s written for publication since 2008. Most days you can find her creating scandal and mischief in the Regency-era, serendipity and happenstance in the Victorian era, or historical romantic suspense complete with mystery and intrigue. Reading is a lot like eating chocolates—you can’t just have one book. Give her the chance with one book and you’ll be hooked.
When she’s not wearing out computer keyboards or mice, Sandra spends time with her real-life Prince Charming in Central Indiana where she also runs a gourmet cookie business and makes moments count with the man because the key to life is laughter. Inspired to storytelling by Walt Disney since the age of ten, when her soul gets bogged down and her imagination flags, a trip to Walt Disney World is in order. Nothing fills the well and fuels her dreams more than the land of eternal happy endings, hope and love stories.
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