KNIGHT OF CHRISTMAS
Sept 4, 2018
A re-release
Sept 4, 2018
A re-release
Historical/Seasonal/Victorian
Approx 27,000 words
KG Publishing
BLURB:
Christmas is the last thing on
Brandon Knight’s mind as he travels to his hometown after ten years away. His plans
of vengeance are thwarted when he discovers his foe, the Earl of Oakby, has
recently died. Instead he focuses retribution on the lovely widow, Lady Angeline,
which whom he shares a heartbreaking past.
Angeline is damaged and feels
nothing inside. After suffering a devastating loss and a horrible marriage, she
and her son find that they destitute. Bran steps forward with an outrageous
offer, and Angeline has no choice but to accept.
Considering that the attraction
still sizzles between them, Bran will have to surrender his plans for revenge
to assist in bringing Angeline back to life. They once
loved each other, but doubt they are able to move beyond the pain. However,
it’s Christmas and anything is possible.
NOTE: This book was published in 2014 with Ellora's Cave (yikes, remember them?) In order to get the rights back, I had to forego all royalties owed. They are now out of business, and I was able to use the cover, as long as I removed the EC logo (gladly) and I added the Victorian Xmas streetlamp :) This was an erotic romance, (one reviewer said erotica) it isn't now. I no longer write that hot. I have dialed back the heat. It's under 30,000 words, so I am releasing it at 99 cents.
As
she walked into the library, Sir Alastair Whitehall stood and bowed slightly.
Angeline took the seat directly in front of him. Hot broth and a nap sounded
like heaven, and she would indulge in the same as soon as this meeting
concluded. Fatigue and weariness burned her eyes; she could easily sleep for a
week.
“Please
do not spare my feelings, Sir Alastair. Tell me the wretched news. There is
little money remaining, am I correct?”
Sir
Alastair sat and placed his spectacles low on his prominent nose. “I am afraid
the situation is even more calamitous than what you surmise, my lady. There is
no money at all. In fact, Lord Oakby left considerable debt. Considerable.”
Blood
rushed to her head making her dizzy. Angeline’s elevated heartbeat pounded in
her ears.
That miserable cur of an earl, may he
rot.
And
Oakby would rot soon enough. The thought did not appease her increasing resentment.
“How
considerable?”
“According
to the law, the estate at Oakby has been entailed to your son, the new Earl of
Oakby. No worries on that score. Unfortunately the place is in complete
disrepair, the furnishings sold long ago for cash. A crumbling empty estate is
your son’s legacy. It is not suitable for occupancy. There is no staff. There
is no money for maintenance. None at all.”
The
solicitor gave her a piteous look over the rim of his glasses. “I traveled to
the property two months past, my lady. Upon a cursory inspection, I took note
that part of the roof had collapsed. There is water damage, rotting floors. I
could go on. It would take a great deal of capital to see it right.”
“No
staff? What happened?” Angeline had not been to the estate in years, nor had
she discussed it with Oakby. But then, they hadn’t shared much of anything
these past years, let alone any sort of meaningful conversation.
“They
departed once Lord Oakby became ill and relocated here, my lady. There was no
money to pay them.”
“What
about the servants here, at the town house?”
“A
quarter payment in arrears, and there are a number of outstanding household
accounts.”
“But
I am quite sure you saw to it that you
were paid, Sir Alastair.”
The
older man harrumphed. “Only the most minimum retainer, I assure you. I have served
this family nigh on forty years. Never would I take advantage.”
“No
insult was meant. Truly.” Sir Alastair nodded in reply. “I am merely trying to
ascertain who has been paid and who has not.” Angeline’s insides tumbled. “What
is to become of my son and me?”
Sir
Alastair shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, my lady, I regret to report
this town house is no longer in your possession. Lord Oakby signed the deed
over in lieu of one of his many outstanding debts, as the notes in question
were acquired by a gentleman recently returned to this area. He now owns this
house and the possessions within it. The deed passed into his hands when Lord
Oakby died. I am sorry, my lady.”
This
situation was worse than she thought. Far, far worse. Where to turn? Her family?
After what her father had done, selling her to Oakby, she wanted no part of
them, hadn’t for years. It would tear her in two to crawl back now.
“Who
is this gentleman? Perhaps you can make him see reason.”
Someone
stepped into the room from the adjoining hallway. His tall, broad-shouldered
frame filled the doorway. Before she could get a clear look at him, he said, “I
am not a reasonable man, Angeline, but perhaps we can come to some sort of mutual
and beneficial agreement.”
The
stranger stepped forward farther into the light.
God, it’s him. The footman: Brandon
Knight.
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Karyn Gerrard, born and raised in the Maritime Provinces of Eastern Canada, now makes her home in a small town in Northwestern Ontario. When she’s not cheering on the Red Sox or travelling in the summer with her teacher husband, she writes, reads romance, and drinks copious amounts of Earl Grey tea.
Even at a young age Karyn’s storytelling skills were apparent, thrilling her fellow Girl Guides with off-the-cuff horror stories around the campfire. A multi-published author, she loves to write sensual historical and contemporaries. Tortured heroes are an absolute must.
As long as she can avoid being hit by a runaway moose in her wilderness paradise she assumes everything is golden. Karyn’s been happily married for a long time to her own hero. His encouragement and loving support keeps her moving forward.
“Looking for a swoon-worthy read? You can’t go wrong with the lovely and emotional romances from Karyn Gerrard.” ~Vanessa Kelly, USA Today Bestselling author
"Karyn Gerrard writes very enjoyable, richly textured historical romances." ~Kate Pearce, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author
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