We’re just going to call this Release Week. So many of my friends have uber-good books releasing this week!!!
Fellow RCRW member
and 2007 GH finalist Delilah Marvelle
‘s DEBUT historical, Mistress of Pleasure
, released just yesterday. This is another don’t-miss book, and one I’m proud to promo here.
Available NOW from Kensington:
Mistress of Pleasure
Book One in the School of Gallantry Series
Granddaughter of a renowned courtesan, Maybelle de Maitenon has no interest in her grandmother’s school in London where gentlemen receive instruction — in the art of love and seduction. Her only desire in life is to remain indepedent, free from men and the shackles of marriage. But when Maybelle’s grandmother falls ill, forcing Maybelle to take over the operation of the school, she discovers that men are in fact creatures of habit and simply need to be re-educated. Then Edmund Worthington, the Duke of Rutherford dares to enroll, looking to alter not only her lesson plans, but her very heart….
“Since this was book one in Ms. Marvelle’s School of Gallantry series, the wait for the next book will be sheer agony.” –Rosie Bindra, Dark Angels Reviews – Recommended Read!
Excerpted from Mistress of Pleasure:
What defines a woman?
Why, she does, of course.
-The School of Gallantry
London, England – May 1830
When Maybelle first discovered at the tender age of twelve that her beautiful, silver-haired grandmother was in fact a French courtesan, it had been most…awkward. Yet equally fascinating to say the least.
Being left in the care of such a sexually liberated woman certainly made for an unusual upbringing. For instance, French was taught, not out of cultural or educational necessity, but because her grandmother believed that the rolling off of French from one’s tongue was erotic. As such, French words always had to be sprinkled here and there like powdered sugar over the not-so-orgasmic English language. At fourteen, Maybelle refused to adhere to the woman’s ridiculous French/English rule. Mostly because she felt like a want-wit who couldn’t decide between two languages.
At about fifteen, Maybelle was further shocked to discover that naughty little books were not only permitted. They were required. So unlike other girls who took to sneaking pornographic books and keeping them under their pillows, Maybelle was forced to sneak volumes of Voltaire. For there was only so much copulation a girl could ingest day in and day out. Needless to say, after spending nine years under the perpetual rule of her grandmother, there really wasn’t much in this world that could actually astound her.
Or at least that’s what she thought.
Maybelle eyed the glass of cognac, which had been set onto the polished walnut table before her and heaved out an exasperated sigh as she eased into one of the parlor chairs. She had expected the last morning spent with her grandmother to be difficult. But cognac? Honestly. She met her grandmother’s attentive gaze from across the French crimson parlor and drawled, “I take it there is no tea in the cupboards?”
“Och. Tea. The English are overly obsessed with it.” Her grandmother rose from the settee, rustling not only her full verdant skirts but also all three sets of stringed pearls dangling over her more than generous bosom. “We have every right to toast to all of our upcoming adventures. After all, you will finally get to visit your beloved Nubia, while I, I will finally have my School of Gallantry.”
Maybelle paused. Then blinked. “School of Gallantry? And what, might I ask, is that?”
“Ah.” Her grandmother bustled over toward the writing bureau set in the corner of the parlor, paused and snatched up a piece of parchment. Turning, she bustled back again and halted before Maybelle. Smiling ever so sweetly, she held out the sizable cream-colored parchment by the tips of her manicured fingers.
Maybelle stared at the parchment dangling before her.
Madame Thérése’s School of Gallantry
All gentlemen welcome.
Learn from the most celebrated demimondaine of France
Everything there is to know about seduction and love.
Only a limited amount of Applications are being accepted At 11 Berwick Street.
Discretion is guaranteed and advised.
Well. That certainly explained why her grandmother had kept to herself these past few months. She’d been busy creating a school. For men. Heaven help her. This was going to follow her straight to the pyramids. At least the woman had used a nom de plume. Although it was only a matter of time before the gossip papers found out who was really behind it…