Well, guys, True Pretenses releases January 13th—just seven weeks away! So, I’m going to do three things:
1. Every Tuesday between now and 1/13 I will post a teaser excerpt from the book here on my blog, on facebook, and on tumblr. Remember, you can read the complete first chapter here.
2. Every Wednesday from now to 1/13 is Ash Wednesday! I’ll post a sexy picture of Mark Ruffalo to my tumblr and explain the different ways he served as an inspiration for my con artist hero Ash. Check it out if that sounds like your thing.
3. Every Friday from now until 1/13 is Free Book Friday! I will post a photo of a mysterious coded phrase either to Twitter, to Facebook, or to tumblr, so keep an eye out. The first person to decode the phrase gets a True Pretenses e-ARC!
And now…the teaser! Ash walks home after meeting Lydia for the very first time.
***
He wondered what her hair smelled like. It was splendid hair, peeping out from under her lace cap, thick and coppery and so shining it looked like a crisp Tudor painting. She resembled a Tudor portrait all round, with her apple cheeks and sharp chin, and her wide eyes that made brown a rich, bright color.
Well, the smell of her hair would be for Rafe to find out, one of these days. Because after all, Ash wasn’t even trying to swindle her. He was trying to give her his brother. She’d be the envy of every woman in six counties.
You couldn’t be obvious about matchmaking, though. People were contrary. He’d tell them both it was a marriage of convenience, that Rafe would marry her and sign over her money in exchange for a slice of it, and never again darken her door. A few weeks would be plenty of time for them to find they suited marvelously. Ash would give them a nudge if they needed it, but he doubted they would. The merits of each of them were too self-evident.
Lively St. Lemeston came into view, quaint and homey in the rain. Rafe would be set for life here, snug and warm and loved and rich. He’d forget he’d ever thought about Canada or the army.
Rafe couldn’t possibly resist all this. It was perfect, the perfect honest life left lying about on a silver platter waiting to be stolen. It gave a man itchy fingers just looking at it.