{"id":6183,"date":"2016-05-26T01:05:01","date_gmt":"2016-05-26T05:05:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/?p=6183"},"modified":"2016-05-24T23:01:21","modified_gmt":"2016-05-25T03:01:21","slug":"guest-blogger-lynne-connolly-her-quicksilver-lover","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kate-hill.com\/blog\/?p=6183","title":{"rendered":"Guest Blogger: Lynne Connolly – Her Quicksilver Lover"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"LCHerQuicksilverLover\"<\/a>Love knows no bounds, and keeps no secrets.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Her Quicksilver Lover<\/strong><\/p>\n

by Lynne Connolly<\/strong><\/p>\n

Buy and read an extract from :<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

Publisher<\/strong>\u00a0<\/a>
\n<\/strong><\/a>Amazon<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0
\n<\/strong><\/a>Amazon UK<\/a><\/strong>\u00a0
\n<\/a>Barnes and Noble<\/a><\/strong>
\nAll Romance eBooks<\/strong>\u00a0<\/a>
\niBookstore<\/strong>
\n<\/strong><\/a>Google Books<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

And the page on my website:<\/strong>
\nhttp:\/\/lynneconnolly.com\/her-quicksilver-lover<\/a>\u00a0<\/strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Blurb:<\/p>\n

Even Gods Fall In Love<\/em>\u00a0, Book 6<\/p>\n

Joanna Spencer is doing more than just serving tea at the Pantheon Club. She\u2019s secretly collecting society gossip and evidence of foreign spy activity for her father\u2019s journal articles.<\/p>\n

Instead, she finds the club\u2019s walls shield Roman gods in human form. One of which she must keep at arm\u2019s length at all costs\u2014the club\u2019s alluring, enigmatic owner, Amidei, Comte d\u2019Argento. Otherwise known as Mercury.<\/p>\n

Joanna catches Amidei\u2019s attention long before she drops and shatters an expensive tea caddy. He knows she\u2019s spying, but he never suspected she\u2019d be his nemesis in human form\u2014or that she would stir his strongest protective instincts.<\/p>\n

Those instincts will be tested to the limit when an enemy strikes from an unexpected corner, threatening their lives. And Amidei will have to face every last one of his fears to protect the woman he has come to love.<\/p>\n

Warning: Contains a woman who\u2019s too honest to be a good spy, and a mind-reading god sent reeling down the fast track to passion the moment he touches her thoughts. Excessive heat could cause readers to reach for a fan, but remember\u2014fanning the flames only makes them burn hotter.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The following excerpt is for readers 18 and over.<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cJoanna Spencer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. I thought\u2026\u201d She didn\u2019t know what to think. His proximity confused her, sent her mind into a spin, spiralling down her body to the juncture of her thighs, where she heated and dampened.<\/p>\n

He smiled and stroked her cheek again. It was all she could do not to press into his touch, to beg silently for more. His heat seeped through her, warming any residual chill, but the nervousness remained. She could not move.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour skin is so soft,\u201d he said. \u201cIt begs me to touch it. It has from the beginning. Like the ripest, plumpest peach.\u201d<\/p>\n

She should not allow him to do this, or say such things, but the lonely core deep inside her body opened and blossomed at those words. Men passed her by. It went without saying that she had no dowry, nothing to offer a man in marriage, so she had closed the door on such thoughts, except for dreams she could not control. She made a last effort. \u201cYou should not do this, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. I do not make a habit of it. But you\u2014you intrigue me, Joanna Spencer. I want to know more about you. Like why you did not tell me, or anyone else in this house, that your father owns the Argus<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

A sharp gasp escaped her and she spun away, intent on reaching the door. She would leave and never come back, and pray that he didn\u2019t follow her.<\/p>\n

He lashed his arm around her waist and turned her back to him.<\/p>\n

They were pressed chest to chest, the fabric of her coarse gown meeting his smooth, fine silk waistcoat. Her mind racing, she said nothing, but met his gaze boldly. \u201cEveryone has to earn a living,\u201d she said when she had finally worked out what to say.<\/p>\n

He watched her, waiting for something, she did not know what. His cheekbones were tinged with colour, his eyes back to their light silver, disconcerting and beautiful. They were both breathing deeply, as if they\u2019d run up St. James\u2019 Street and back.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you rather I earned it another way?\u201d Without allowing him to speak, she went on, anger sparkling through her. \u201cOh yes, I see you would.\u201d<\/p>\n

Something in his eyes flared, and then she could see no more as he closed them and dragged her closer, bringing his head down.<\/p>\n

Then he kissed her.<\/p>\n

His scent was of lemons, a tinge of the sea, and pure, wild, masculinity. It wreathed around her, its intensity overwhelming her efforts to remember who she was, who he was, and pull away. His lips pressed against hers, firm and full, pressing so she had to tilt her head back.<\/p>\n

Flattening her hands on his chest, the metallic threads of the embroidery rasping against her palm, she shoved. He did not move, didn\u2019t even seem to register her protest. He continued to kiss her, but kept his hands around her waist, holding her close, but not roaming. His fingertips dug into the fabric of her jacket, the pressure insistent, into the flesh beneath, burning as if they were naked and he was claiming her.<\/p>\n

One kiss, what harm would that do? She couldn\u2019t pretend she did not want it, had not lain awake in her narrow bed dreaming of this, but he should not, she was a respectable woman\u2026the protests became mere echoes in her mind.<\/p>\n

He touched her lips with his tongue, and as if he\u2019d commanded it, she let him in.<\/p>\n

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