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Shana Galen

When you give a duke a diamond by Shana Galen

By Barb Drozdowich 9 Comments

Welcome to Sugarbeat’s Books – The Home of the Romance Novel!

14296766Blurb:
When You Give a Duke a Diamond (First story in the Jewels of the Ton series)
He had a perfectly orderly life…
William, the sixth Duke of Pelham, enjoys his punctual, securely structured life. Orderly and predictable—that’s the way he likes it. But he’s in the public eye, and the scandal sheets will make up anything to sell papers. When the gossip papers link him to Juliette, one of the most beautiful and celebrated courtesans in London, chaos doesn’t begin to describe what happens next…

Until she came along…
Juliette is nicknamed the Duchess of Dalliance and has the cream of the nobility at her beck and call. It’s disruptive to have the duke who is the biggest catch on the Marriage Mart scaring her other suitors away. Then she discovers William’s darkest secret and decides what he needs in his life is the kind of excitement only she can provide…

 

Why do you need to read this book? I love everything that Shana Galen has written – sometimes it takes me a while to get to her books and this one was published some time ago. Her writing is sparkling. That’s the best description I have. The action sparkles off the page. Totally delightful!

 

When you Give A Duke A Diamond is available from Amazon 

Excerpt (from the author’s website):

Now she wanted to sleep. She should not have stayed out so late, but the play had been witty, Vauxhall Gardens filled with the most entertaining men and women in London, and before she had realized, it was nearly morning. Rosie would have a difficult task ahead of her if Juliette was to look stunning at Carlton House tonight.

“Yes, Hollows, do rouse Mary and send her to my chamber.” Juliette felt badly about waking the girl—she, Hollows, and Cook were the only servants not given the night off—but Juliette did not relish sleeping in her stays and gown, and she could not get them off by herself. Once she was undressed, she would send Mary back to bed and finish her toilette on her own.

Juliette started up the steps. “Off to bed with you, Hollows,” she said over her shoulder. “I shan’t need you for several hours.”

“Yes, Duchess.”

Juliette’s feet felt like cannonballs—not that she had ever touched a cannonball—but she imagined they were impossibly heavy. Why had she agreed to so many dances? No, she had never been good at denying herself pleasure when it was to be had, and tonight the music had been lively, the gentlemen agreeable, and her spirits high. She could have danced until noon.

Thank God she hadn’t. One day she would learn to think of the consequences before she acted.

She stepped onto the first floor landing and started for the stairs to the second floor, where her bedchamber was located. The doors to the drawing room were closed, but Juliette paused when she heard a sound from within. She stopped, pressed her ear to the doors, and listened.

Silence.

She shook her head. She was so tired, her mind was deceiving her.

She started for the steps again and heard an unmistakable thump. Whirling, she did not hesitate but ran straight to the banister. “Hollows!” Her heart hammered in her chest. “Hollows! C—”

A hand clamped over her mouth, and she was propelled backward, losing one slipper as she was dragged.

Oliver.

He had come for her, as he’d vowed he would. She’d grown complacent, dismissing her additional footmen for the night. How could she have been so foolish? Now he would kill her. Hollows, who was rather hard of hearing, would never even hear her scream.

Juliette kicked and clawed, but she couldn’t escape. The man—she assumed it was a man because the hands were so large—had grasped her about the waist to haul her back more quickly. His hand on her mouth tightened and began to cut off her air. She tried to gasp in a breath as the drawing room doors slammed, and a man she did not know stepped before them.

“Hello, Duchess,” he said.

She blinked and swallowed, still trying to catch her breath.

It wasn’t Oliver. Thank God.

The man dressed stylishly in black. His hair was the color of midnight with a streak as white as the pearls at her throat. He smiled at her, but his eyes were dark and menacing. Juliette thought perhaps she might reserve her thanks a few more moments.

“I’d like to have a brief chat,” the man said. “Gabriel, she’s turning purple. Do lift your hand. You won’t scream, will you, Duchess?”

She shook her head, having every intention of screaming as soon as this Gabriel removed his paw from her mouth. Even if Hollows didn’t hear, the cook or Mary might.

“Good because if you do, you won’t like the consequences—for you and whoever comes to your aid.”

Gabriel removed his hand, and Juliette kept her mouth clamped shut. Something about the man in black made her believe he could make her very sorry indeed if she did not do as he bid. She had been made very sorry before for disobedience and, subsequently, had become quite good at doing as she was told. For a decade she had been her own independent woman, but now she felt seventeen again. All her survival instincts resurfaced.

She stepped away from the man called Gabriel and cut her eyes to take in the room. The usually stylish, immaculate room was in complete shambles. The expensive drapes had been ripped to ribbons, the newly upholstered chair cushions spilled their filling, antique lamps were overturned, and the heavy drawers scattered their contents on the rug.

Escape was her only salvation. She had to find a means to escape. But she couldn’t allow these men to know she was afraid or planned to run. The punishment would come faster then.

“Looking for something?” she croaked.

The man in black smiled again, and this time it almost reached his obsidian-colored eyes. “Very perceptive, Duchess. May I call you Duchess?” He moved smoothly to a toppled chair, righted it, and sat as though he was perfectly at ease. As though this were his home, not hers.

Juliette bristled, but she was too adept at hiding her emotions to show it. The Countess of Sinclair had taught her well.

“I prefer Mrs. Clifton,” she said, though no one had called her that in years. Oliver had used that name, and she’d come to hate it. But it seemed appropriate at this moment.

“Why don’t I call you Juliette? It seems fitting as we are going to be good friends, Juliette.”

Her throat tightened. She had to get out of here. “And what should I call you?” she asked coolly.

“Lucifer, of course. Do you know what I want to discuss, Juliette?”

She shook her head. Dear God, she prayed he wasn’t going to rape her. Her mind was racing, trying to place him. But he wasn’t familiar to her at all. She didn’t think she could have spurned him. She would have remembered, and she was always gentle with those whose attentions she rejected.

Could Oliver have sent him?

No, her former husband liked to do his own work. “Actually, I don’t know what you wish to discuss, Lucifer,” Juliette replied with strained politeness. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“Oh, come, come. We are friends. We can be honest with one another.”

She shook her head, cutting her gaze to the drawing room doors. If she ran, could she make it in time? Even as the thought occurred to her, Gabriel—large and blond—stepped in front of the doors and crossed his arms.

“I am being honest with you,” she said to Lucifer, panic rising in her throat now. “I don’t know you.” But even as she spoke she could see he didn’t believe her. She could see she was doomed.

Lucifer raised a brow. “But I know you, and I know you have something of mine. Now, are you going to tell me about the diamonds, or am I going to have to find more creative methods of loosening your tongue?”

© Shana Galen

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When you Give A Rake A Ruby by Shana Galen

By Barb Drozdowich Leave a Comment

Welcome to Sugarbeat’s Books – The Home of the Romance Novel!

sugarbeat's books romance novels romance book reviews

 

If You Give  A Rake a Ruby by Shana Galen

if-you-give-a-rake-a-rubyBlurb: Her Mysterious Past is the Best Revenge . . .

Fallon, the Marchioness of Mystery, is a celebrated courtesan with her finger on the pulse of high society. She’s adored by men, hated by their wives. No one knows anything about her past, and she plans to keep it that way.

 

Only He Can Offer Her a Dazzling Future . . .

Warrick Fitzhugh will do anything to protect his compatriots in the Foreign Office, including seduce Fallon, who he thinks can lead him to the deadliest crime lord in London. He knows he’s putting his life on the line . .

 

To Warrick’s shock, Fallon is not who he thinks she is, and the secrets she’s keeping are exactly what make her his heart’s desire . . .

Why do you need to read this book?

You need to read this book for several reasons. The first one being the character of Fallon. She is outstanding!! I loved her strength and her independence. The second major reason being Shana Galen’s storytelling abilities. I love her stories and this one is no different!

If you Give a Rake a Ruby is available at Amazon

 

Excerpt

(from Shana Galen’s website)

“Then I suggest you attend to your business, my lord. Good night.”

 

She turned and strolled toward the drawing room doors. She knew she would not reach them unmolested. She also knew she could ring for Titus.

 

But that would be too easy.

 

Kwirley was slower than she’d anticipated, and she had almost gained the towering mahogany doors before he caught her elbow and spun her around. “Not so fast—” he began.

 

Fallon kicked him in the belly, sending him sprawling backward. He knocked over a pedestal holding a jeweled lamp, and she had a moment’s worry because it was one of her favorites. But a quick glance reassured her the lamp was not broken.

 

The glance also revealed Kwirley was getting up. Blockhead. “Go home, my lord. I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“Really?” He wiped his hands on his breeches. “Because I would like to hurt you. I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re going to pay for—”

 

She sidestepped him, spun, and booted him in his lower back. The blow set him off-balance, and she had a moment to grab a book and hurl it at him. Her aim was perfect, and the book’s spine hit him in the center of the forehead. “Ow, you little bitch!” He charged her, and Fallon shook her head. He wasn’t even thinking, simply acting blindly. She easily sidestepped him again, and he rammed into a settee, knocking it over. While he struggled to rise, Fallon dug her heel into the back of his neck and pressed him down.

 

“Had enough?” she asked. “Or would you prefer to go another round?” Because she was tired and wanted to go to bed, she ground her heel into his neck.

 

“Enough,” he mumbled.

 

“Good.” Without lifting her heel, she reached for a little silver bell and rang it. The sound tinkled softly in the room and the drawing room doors opened immediately to reveal Titus.

 

Titus was close to seven feet tall and easily twenty-five stone. He had a thick head of bright red hair, shocking blue eyes, and a mouth full of crooked teeth. His hands were as big as puppies and his legs tree trunks. He did not walk so much as lumber, and Kwirley began protesting the moment Titus entered the room.

 

“There’s been some sort of mistake. I didn’t intend any disrespect.”

 

Fallon sighed. “Titus, I might have known you would be standing right outside.”

 

The giant shrugged, his shoulders small mountains. “I like to make sure there’s no trouble, my lady.”

 

Fallon had told him a hundred times she was no lady, but he insisted on referring to her as such anyway. Who was she to protest? It wasn’t as though anyone else was clamoring to call her a lady.

 

She pressed her foot into Kwirley’s neck for good measure then lifted it and stepped away. “Would you be so kind as to show Lord Kwirley out?”

 

“I’ll show ‘im out,” Titus said. “But I won’t be kind about it.”

 

Kwirley gave her a panicked look, and Fallon was sorely tempted to shrug helplessly. But at the last moment, she took pity on the man. “Titus, be nice. Don’t throw Lord Kwirley farther than the lamppost.”

 

She strode out of the drawing room, listening to Kwirley sputter and then plead for mercy. Titus was a gentle giant to anyone he loved. He was an ogre to anyone who but looked askance at someone he loved. But she couldn’t feel too sorry for Kwirley. Her father—she hoped he burned in hell—always said when you started feeling sorry for those who want to take advantage of you, then you’ve gone soft and deserve what you get.

 

Of course, he hadn’t said it quite that politely.

 

She lifted her skirts and climbed the stairs; nodded to Mary, one of the chamber maids; and blew out a long sigh. She was exhausted.

 

The past few days had been grueling. She’d been to one social event after another—balls, routs, masquerades, soirées, musicales. At this point, if she never saw another ballroom, theater, or pleasure garden, she would not mourn the loss. Normally she enjoyed the whirl of the Season, but without Juliette, everything seemed different.

 

Juliette, Lily, and Fallon were no longer The Three Diamonds. Now it was only Lily and Fallon, and they both missed Juliette terribly.

 

And, if Fallon was honest, she envied Juliette. Who wouldn’t envy a woman married to a wealthy duke who obviously adored her? Fallon had never really believed in love. Her father hadn’t loved her mother. He’d used her charms to run scams or make ends meet. And her mother hadn’t loved her father. She’d been a dim woman who needed a man to tell her what to do.

 

Fallon hadn’t loved either of her parents. She thought she’d fallen in love once, but the experience had taught her she’d been right all long.

 

There was no such thing as love.

 

Except…when she looked at Juliette and her Dangerous Duke, Fallon wondered.

 

She strode down the corridor toward her boudoir. Her booted feet made shushing sounds on the thick rug, and even though she was now quite used to living surrounded by opulence, she paused a moment to savor the plush rug, the paintings on the walls, the expensive upholstery on the Sheraton chair she’d just passed, and the fine silk of her gown.

 

She had no illusions as to how fortunate she was. Unlike the daughters of duchesses and earls Fallon often glimpsed at the theater or a ball, she had not grown up in such privileged circumstances. She had been lucky to have something to eat and shoes on her feet.

 

She did not take any of this for granted. It could all be taken away from her with the snap of a finger if anyone ever found out who she really was. There was a reason the Prince Regent had dubbed her the Marchioness of Mystery. No one—save Lady Sinclair, Juliette, and Lily—knew the truth about her. The ton was greatly diverted by conjecturing as to her true identity.

 

Some said she was the daughter of a maharaja. Little did they know, Fallon had been obliged to ask Lady Sinclair for the definition of maharaja. Other rumors hinted she was a gypsy queen or a princess from a secret kingdom. Fallon wished there was a tiny kernel of truth in but one of the rumors. Anything was better than the reality.

 

She opened the door of her boudoir and stepped inside. Strange. Usually Anne had the fire roaring and several candles lit. But the room was dark and cold. Fallon shivered, crossed to her bed, and pulled the cord to summon her lady’s maid. She reached out and felt the edge of her bed—the soft silk of her counterpane felt light and inviting as a cloud. Fallon rolled her neck, then sank down onto her bed.

 

“Ouch!”

 

She bolted upright and stifled a scream. There was a man in her bed.

 

An uninvited man.

 

© Shana Galen

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When You Give a Duke a Diamond by Shana Galen

By Barb Drozdowich Leave a Comment

Welcome to Sugarbeat’s Books – The Home of the Romance Novel!

sugarbeat's books romance novels romance book reviews

14296766When you give a duke a diamond by Shana Galen

Blurb:

He had a perfectly orderly life…

 

William, the sixth Duke of Pelham, enjoys his punctual, securely structured life. Orderly and predictable—that’s the way he likes it. But he’s in the public eye, and the scandal sheets will make up anything to sell papers. When the gossip papers link him to Juliette, one of the most beautiful and celebrated courtesans in London, chaos doesn’t begin to describe what happens next…

 

Until she came along…

Juliette is nicknamed the Duchess of Dalliance and has the cream of the nobility at her beck and call. It’s disruptive to have the duke who is the biggest catch on the Marriage Mart scaring her other suitors away. Then she discovers William’s darkest secret and decides what he needs in his life is the kind of excitement only she can provide…

 

Why do you need to read this book?

To start with, it was created by Shana Galen, one of my favorite authors, but more than than, the character of Juliette is outstanding. She is strong and takes what she has and makes a life for herself – a tough thing to do in Regency England. She plans and she succeeds. I love this character! The duke is cute, but Juliette steals the show in my opinion.

When You Give a Duke a Diamond is available on Amazon

Excerpt:

(Taken from Ms. Galen’s website)

Now she wanted to sleep. She should not have stayed out so late, but the play had been witty, Vauxhall Gardens filled with the most entertaining men and women in London, and before she had realized, it was nearly morning. Rosie would have a difficult task ahead of her if Juliette was to look stunning at Carlton House tonight.

 

“Yes, Hollows, do rouse Mary and send her to my chamber.” Juliette felt badly about waking the girl—she, Hollows, and Cook were the only servants not given the night off—but Juliette did not relish sleeping in her stays and gown, and she could not get them off by herself. Once she was undressed, she would send Mary back to bed and finish her toilette on her own.

 

Juliette started up the steps. “Off to bed with you, Hollows,” she said over her shoulder. “I shan’t need you for several hours.”

 

“Yes, Duchess.”

 

Juliette’s feet felt like cannonballs—not that she had ever touched a cannonball—but she imagined they were impossibly heavy. Why had she agreed to so many dances? No, she had never been good at denying herself pleasure when it was to be had, and tonight the music had been lively, the gentlemen agreeable, and her spirits high. She could have danced until noon.

 

Thank God she hadn’t. One day she would learn to think of the consequences before she acted.

 

She stepped onto the first floor landing and started for the stairs to the second floor, where her bedchamber was located. The doors to the drawing room were closed, but Juliette paused when she heard a sound from within. She stopped, pressed her ear to the doors, and listened.

 

Silence.

 

She shook her head. She was so tired, her mind was deceiving her.

 

She started for the steps again and heard an unmistakable thump. Whirling, she did not hesitate but ran straight to the banister. “Hollows!” Her heart hammered in her chest. “Hollows! C—”

 

A hand clamped over her mouth, and she was propelled backward, losing one slipper as she was dragged.

 

Oliver.

 

He had come for her, as he’d vowed he would. She’d grown complacent, dismissing her additional footmen for the night. How could she have been so foolish? Now he would kill her. Hollows, who was rather hard of hearing, would never even hear her scream.

 

Juliette kicked and clawed, but she couldn’t escape. The man—she assumed it was a man because the hands were so large—had grasped her about the waist to haul her back more quickly. His hand on her mouth tightened and began to cut off her air. She tried to gasp in a breath as the drawing room doors slammed, and a man she did not know stepped before them.

 

“Hello, Duchess,” he said.

 

She blinked and swallowed, still trying to catch her breath.

 

It wasn’t Oliver. Thank God.

 

The man dressed stylishly in black. His hair was the color of midnight with a streak as white as the pearls at her throat. He smiled at her, but his eyes were dark and menacing. Juliette thought perhaps she might reserve her thanks a few more moments.

 

“I’d like to have a brief chat,” the man said. “Gabriel, she’s turning purple. Do lift your hand. You won’t scream, will you, Duchess?”

 

She shook her head, having every intention of screaming as soon as this Gabriel removed his paw from her mouth. Even if Hollows didn’t hear, the cook or Mary might.

 

“Good because if you do, you won’t like the consequences—for you and whoever comes to your aid.”

 

Gabriel removed his hand, and Juliette kept her mouth clamped shut. Something about the man in black made her believe he could make her very sorry indeed if she did not do as he bid. She had been made very sorry before for disobedience and, subsequently, had become quite good at doing as she was told. For a decade she had been her own independent woman, but now she felt seventeen again. All her survival instincts resurfaced.

 

She stepped away from the man called Gabriel and cut her eyes to take in the room. The usually stylish, immaculate room was in complete shambles. The expensive drapes had been ripped to ribbons, the newly upholstered chair cushions spilled their filling, antique lamps were overturned, and the heavy drawers scattered their contents on the rug.

 

Escape was her only salvation. She had to find a means to escape. But she couldn’t allow these men to know she was afraid or planned to run. The punishment would come faster then.

 

“Looking for something?” she croaked.

 

The man in black smiled again, and this time it almost reached his obsidian-colored eyes. “Very perceptive, Duchess. May I call you Duchess?” He moved smoothly to a toppled chair, righted it, and sat as though he was perfectly at ease. As though this were his home, not hers.

 

Juliette bristled, but she was too adept at hiding her emotions to show it. The Countess of Sinclair had taught her well.

 

“I prefer Mrs. Clifton,” she said, though no one had called her that in years. Oliver had used that name, and she’d come to hate it. But it seemed appropriate at this moment.

 

“Why don’t I call you Juliette? It seems fitting as we are going to be good friends, Juliette.”

 

Her throat tightened. She had to get out of here. “And what should I call you?” she asked coolly.

 

“Lucifer, of course. Do you know what I want to discuss, Juliette?”

 

She shook her head. Dear God, she prayed he wasn’t going to rape her. Her mind was racing, trying to place him. But he wasn’t familiar to her at all. She didn’t think she could have spurned him. She would have remembered, and she was always gentle with those whose attentions she rejected.

 

Could Oliver have sent him?

 

No, her former husband liked to do his own work. “Actually, I don’t know what you wish to discuss, Lucifer,” Juliette replied with strained politeness. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

 

“Oh, come, come. We are friends. We can be honest with one another.”

 

She shook her head, cutting her gaze to the drawing room doors. If she ran, could she make it in time? Even as the thought occurred to her, Gabriel—large and blond—stepped in front of the doors and crossed his arms.

 

“I am being honest with you,” she said to Lucifer, panic rising in her throat now. “I don’t know you.” But even as she spoke she could see he didn’t believe her. She could see she was doomed.

 

Lucifer raised a brow. “But I know you, and I know you have something of mine. Now, are you going to tell me about the diamonds, or am I going to have to find more creative methods of loosening your tongue?”

 

© Shana Galen

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