Wednesday, April 29, 2015

The Devilish Mr. Danvers by Vivienne Lorret Book Tour & Giveaway

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The Devilish Mr. Danvers
The Rakes of Fallow Hall # 2
By: Vivienne Lorret  
Releasing April 21, 2015
Avon Impulse

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For the first time in her life, Hedley Sinclair holds the keys to her own future. She’s inherited the crumbling Greyson Park, but the disrepair does nothing to dissuade her. No one will ever lock her up again or attempt to take away what’s hers. No one except Rafe Danvers—the charming, fiendish man from Fallow Hall. He’s determined to claim Greyson Park, but if Hedley isn’t careful, he’ll claim her heart as well.

Rafe has every intention of ridding Greyson Park of the conniving Sinclairs, once and for all. The last thing he expects is to find the beguiling Hedley Sinclair—the younger sister of his former fiancée—standing in his way. With drastic measures called for, he plans to marry her off in order to regain control of the estate. The only trouble is, he can’t seem to stop seducing her. Even worse, he can’t help falling in love with her.

Buy Links:  Amazon | B & N | iTunes | Kobo | Publisher

USA Today bestselling author VIVIENNE LORRET loves romance novels, her pink laptop, her husband, and her two sons (not necessarily in that order ... but there are days). Transforming copious amounts of tea into words, she is proud to be an Avon Impulse author of works including: “Tempting Mr. Weatherstone”, The Wallflower Wedding Series, and the Rakes of Fallow Hall series.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter |Goodreads

Rafflecopter Giveaway (a Digital bundle including: Winning Miss Wakefield, Daring Miss Danvers, and Finding Miss MacFarland)

Used to relying on herself, Hedley lifted one of the shawls from her shoulders and draped it over her hair. Tying it at her neck like a little old woman, she made her way through the house and outside by way of the kitchen. A steady drizzle greeted her. Sort of. The truth was, the rain felt more like tiny, frozen shards of glass. Already, the hard clay path to the woodpile was slick, covered with a fine sheen of ice. The soles of her shoes slid over the crackling ground, and fog as thick as pillow stuffing obscured her view of the shrubs, trees and outbuildings. She didn’t mind that, however. Not having a glimpse of the carriage house suited her nerves. Just thinking of it, in fact, sent an icy shudder through her, making her grateful that she lived apart from those who knew her shameful secret. A dog howled, startling her away from her thoughts. The nearness of the mournful bay stole the breath from her body. She only hoped the animal was friendly.

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