Title: Captivated by an Adventurous Lady (Thieves of the Ton #1)
Author: Sandra Sookoo
Genre: Regency romance, Romantic suspense
Book Blurb:
Due to a mummy's curse, Miles Lawrence Hawkins, fifth Earl of Archewyne, is alone and the last of his line, save for a young daughter, and he’s made peace with that…Yet unexpectedly finding an attractive female thief in his library searching for that same mummy gives him doubts. Drawn into the lady’s insane plot to retrieve various stolen mummies from around London—including the British Museum—Miles accompanies her merely to see what will happen next. Being captivated by her quest and intrigued by her skill in skirting the law is a much needed distraction from the stress of his own life’s misfortunes.
Lady Emmaline Darling, skilled thief and daughter to the Earl of St. Ives, is nearly alone in the world, and not by choice. Believing herself damned due to her father’s penchant for removing antiquities from Egypt, she’s vowed to return a pair of mummies to their eternal resting place in order to save his life and her own. Being caught by Miles wasn’t in her plan, and neither was falling for his charm, but she’ll do anything to see he’s free of the curse as well.
When a peer with ties to them both ends up dead and Emmaline’s jewelry is found at the scene, Miles is honor bound to offer for her. Despite her refusal, desire pulls at them, and when Miles is summoned to once more embark upon a secret mission for the Crown, he must shed everything that will become a distraction, but keeping Emmaline out of trouble—and out of his mind—is easier said than done.
Excerpt:
“Oh, bloody hell.”
Miles Lawrence Hawkins, Fifth Earl of Archewyne, cocked his head at the muffled exclamation made by an as yet unidentified female. He paused in the hallway, directly between his study and the library on the ground floor of his Mayfair townhouse. Frantic shuffling of objects being dropped or moved behind the library door met his ears next and he frowned. Why was anyone on this level of the house and at this time of evening, especially when all invited guests should be mingling and flirting in the drawing room or playing cards on the floor above. Even more especially since dinner would be served within the next quarter hour on that same level? He glanced back down the passageway toward the blue parlor and garden. Only one wall sconce had been lit, and even then its illumination didn’t reach this section of the corridor. The anemic light didn’t help in this situation, for no one was scheduled to be here at this time.
Common intruder or someone more vile? In his line of work, one could never tell.
He took a step toward the library door when another utterance halted his progress.
“No, no, no, no, no! Don’t you fall. Don’t you—” Something thudded with a dull crash and the owner of that dulcet voice cursed in … was that Arabic?
His eyebrows soared toward his hairline as a reluctant grin curved his mouth. He hadn’t heard scraps of that lyrical language since his youth. What the devil occurred behind that closed door, and why did he feel the sudden need to meet the owner of that voice? He strode toward said portal and laid his gloved fingers on the brass handle then quickly pressed the metal and shoved the door open.
Though the large, bookshelf-lined room lay mostly in darkness, the soft glow from a single candle provided enough illumination for him to discern his unexpected visitor had been busy during her time there. Books were scattered over the floor, bric-a-brac and Egyptian antiquities had been taken from the shelves and now rested in rough piles in and out of the golden puddle of candlelight while a four-foot statue of Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead had toppled from its perch on a marble pedestal in the corner near a cluster of potted palms. The tip of his onyx nose had broken off. Presumably the statue was what had fallen to the lady’s dismay.
And frozen nearby, with an expression of surprise on her oval face, was a woman of indeterminate years. The dim light prohibited him from seeing her clearly, but there was no hiding the sheaf of age-yellowed paper rolled in her pale hand. Her midnight-black hair gleamed in the candle’s glow while her eyes widened as she caught sight of him.
“Buggar it.” Shoving the paper into the emerald green reticule attached to her slim wrist, she inched around the perimeter of the library. “Well, I should go now.” A good several or so inches shorter than his five-foot eleven-inch self, she possessed flawless milky skin and eyes that flashed green in the fleeting moment she glanced directly at him.
The eyes were familiar…
Miles gawked at her for all the seconds he was afforded until she approached a low table, bent, then extinguished the candle with a soft exhalation. Darkness flooded the room, but the rustle of her satin skirts alerted him to her direction and he moved in the same. The hard rush of his pulse through his temples kept time to his footfalls. “Who are you?” There were so many other questions hovering on the tip of his tongue, but this one trumped them all for the moment.
“Oh, that’s not important.” Urgency rang in her voice. For what?
“I’ll wager it is.” He had no idea if she was an invited guest or even what her purpose was in invading his private rooms, but he’d damn well find out. The fact she’d broken the Anubis was beside the point. It was merely a copy and could easily be repaired. He’d been looking for a distraction from the mind-numbing events the rout afforded. This was as good as any. The scent of violets wafted to his nose, as did the slight intake of her breath. She was close. And the door was nearby—her only escape. If she intended to pass him—
Devil take it, she did! The brush of her skirts on the tip of his boot and the slight slide of her reticule against his sleeve had his pulse racing and his curiosity climbing. With his reflexes on alert and honed from years being one of the King’s men, he snaked out a hand and wrapped his fingers around her delicate wrist as she attempted to pass. Her heartbeat raced beneath the thin kid of his glove. “Indulge me in an explanation or four, if you please.”
“We don’t have the time.” When she attempted to wrench from his hold and he tightened his grip, she merely tugged him along the corridor as if it didn’t matter.
“Of course it matters.” She didn’t know that he answered his own assumption and his mind reeled at how to deal with the problem. “What did you take from my library?”
“Nothing of consequence.” The woman yanked on her wrist, but he didn’t let go. “Obviously, you won’t miss it since I found it buried in a box with a false bottom.”
“What sort of box?” Miles didn’t recollect any sort of a box like that in his library let alone the whole of his townhouse, but then, the place was still very much decorated in a haphazard style since his wife’s death. All of the Egyptian antiquities had been his father’s and more or less left scattered about without thought.
“Oh, you know the type. Cedarwood, decorated with carved ivory figures, brittle. Came from Egypt. Nearly four thousand years old.” She shrugged and the ripple of movement transferred to him as she marched down the corridor toward the front door. “I truly do beg your pardon, but I don’t have the time nor the inclination to talk at the moment. I really do need to move on.”
“I don’t think so.” Was she a spy, another sort of operative thinking to unearth government documents, or just a petty thief? He opened his mouth to give her the dressing down she so richly deserved when they arrived in the entrance hall. She looked back toward the stairs. Muffled sounds of gaiety drifted down to him from the revelry in the drawing room. Then she glanced to the set of double wood and glass entrance doors. “There is nowhere to run, my little thief.”
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What makes your featured book a must-read?
It’s the first book in a Regency romantic suspense series that follows the romance of one couple throughout the series as they solve mysteries and crimes around the world. A real reader favorite.
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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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