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Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Historical Romance Box Set

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It’s been a while since I posted and it’s difficult to know where to start when it comes to exciting news. I’ve been doing a lot of flying – Hong Kong, around the state of Victoria where I live, and another trip into South Australia where my family lives.

Once upon a Christmas Wedding Box Set

In terms of gala reveals, I think nothing beats our amazing Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Box set that I’m thrilled to be part of. With a lineup of 27 best-selling international authors, we’ve been quietly and secretly putting together our offering which will be available a little later this month. For the first couple of weeks it’ll be on Amazon at a discounted rate – and free in Kindle Unlimited – after which the price will rise. And then after Christmas, it will be no more. So you’ll have to grab it when it’s here.

But don’t worry, I’ll let you know as soon as it’s released – since it won’t be on pre-order.

What is my book in the collection about?

I thought you’d never ask! It’s called Christmas Charity and it’s part of my Fair Cyprians of London series. Christmas Charity will be Book 5 in the series which features a group of spirited, enterprising young women who find themselves working for notorious brothel-keeper Madam Chambon, the owner of London’s most high class House of Assignation.

Charity is the daughter of a governess who’d had her out of wedlock having been seduced – then abandoned – by a handsome visitor to the household where she’d worked. When her mother had died, Charity had had to fend for herself, but the kind woman she’d met on the coach hadn’t directed her to where she could find work as a servant, she’d directed her to Madame Chambon, procuress for her high class House of Assignation.

Fortunately for Charity, her very first client is her soul mate. Hugo is a virgin, sent to Madame Chambon’s by his tyrannical father to lean to ‘be a man’. He’s also kind, sensitive and a talented painter.

But Hugo’s social-climbing father is determined that, with his newly acquired (though trade-tainted) fortune, his son is going to marry into the aristocracy.

And so his steely ambition to see his family rise in the world is pitted against Hugo’s gentle determination to marry the girl he loves.

Of course, you’ll want the blurb for Christmas Charity, which goes like this:

Reluctant courtesan, Charity, has found true love with Hugo, her first and only client. But when poet and artist, Hugo, is tricked into gambling away his impending inheritance, Charity finds herself at the mercy of Madam Chambon and her infamous house of ill-repute.

Can the two young lovers thwart the conspiracy between Hugo’s social-climbing father, and slippery cousin Cyril, so Hugo can make Charity his Christmas bride?

Stay tuned until the next snippet reveal. There are 27 fabulous stories in this wonderful box set so you’re in for a treat!

Historical costumes

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1912 Titanic dressAs you might know – or have guessed if you’ve read any of my FB posts or guest blogs – I love historical costuming.

So this is a short post with a few pictures of my projects – completed and future – and my ideas around them.

On Friday afternoon, the house experienced the chaos before the calm as we prepared for our daughter’s 18th birthday party, which was Titanic-themed.

So, of course, she needed a dress and I made her this 1912 recreation. She also needed a corset, so I drafted this from an earlier era – the 1880s, actually, but that’s what she thought she’d get most use out of as she wanted something to draw in her waist rather than the more elongated corset of the 1912 era.

 

Here’s the dress that was the initial inspiration (with its tiny waist), but of course finding the right quality fabric when one doesn’t live in the city and has time constraints presents certain challenges. And I really like to feel the texture of the fabric before I buy.

 Although clothing looked far less structured, there is still boning in the bodice and it does require a corset. However, the gauzy fabric gives a more floaty impression while the decoration of beads and metallic trimmings weighted the fabric so it didn’t fly away.

Next post I’ll show you the two 1880s original dress patterns I’ve bought as well as the original fashion plates from one of my favourite eras.

Rafflecopter Contest

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CONGRATULATIONS, JOY!

I’ve just emailed to ask you where I should send your copy of Wicked Wager. Thank you so much for entering the Rafflecopter contest!

Win a Paperback or Large Print copy of Wicked Wager Plus a bag of Caramello Koalas

Wicked Wager

“It wasn’t what I expected in a romance, but then sometimes the unexpected is the best experience. Definitely worth reading! The author is a new favorite for me.” ~ Amazon Reader

“At first the book reminded me of Dangerous Liaisons because of Xenia, the creepy, bored, and meddling seductress, the wager, and the rake, Perry, preying on the innocent Celeste. It was sort of like Deja Vue all over again, but it’s actually quite different! There is much much more story to this fascinating book!” ~ Amazon Reader

 

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Wedding Violet Extract (New pre-order)

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Wedding VioletA few days ago I returned from South Australia after a week of painting and plastering our three cottages there. I’m about to post some pictures on Facebook but suffice to say it was great fun, though tiring! Especially the ten-hour drive home which I did on my own as my husband had to fly to Hong Kong.

So, now I’m back into the thick of work and writing my next story – Wedding Violet. Here’s a taster with the first chapter for you to read. I’m crazily getting it finished during the next few days so my editor can read it before she goes on her cruise.

I hope you enjoy it!

Wedding Violet

Abandoned at the altar, Max, Lord Belvedere believes he’s evaded family obligation in favour of a life of adventuring in Africa. But his ailing Aunt Euphemia has other ideas.

When Max finds himself in the delightfully diverting arms of Violet Lilywhite while visiting London’s most prestigious House of Assignation, he happens upon the perfect plan. A sham wedding to a ‘penniless shop girl’ should fulfil Aunt Euphemia’s romantic dreams without losing him his newfound liberty.

Violet agrees to the deception with no hesitation. Lord Belvedere is certainly the most charming and surprising of all her male consorts but she has no illusions about a shared future. She wants only to escape the clutches of infamous Madame Chambon.

The plan appears perfect until Max and Violet find themselves falling in love.

Just as it seems Aunt Euphemia will have her romantic finale, a shock discovery threatens the foundation of Max and Violet’s relationship, challenging their belief in love, their trust and their hopes for a future together.

What Readers Say About the Series:

“Writer was able to get a 7-course meal into a sandwich sized novel. It was exciting and emotional. Sexy and romantic.”

“This is one of the most interesting stories on why a girl might become an escort.. The twists and turns are breathtaking…I couldn’t put this down.”

“Oh my! This story just makes you fall in love! It’s exciting. It never lags. And what a most satisfying ending!”

Heat Level: Hot (though certainly not at the expense of the story)!

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AUS

All other retailers here.

Read an Extract

 

What’s in a Name – Solomon Islands Reflections

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Today I was telling my daughter I was in the midst of a naming crisis. I didn’t know what I call Book 5 of my Fair Cyprians of London series when, so far, I have the following:

Saving Grace

Forsaking Hope

Keeping Faith

Picking Violet

She didn’t give me any suggestions however she told me she’d recently stumbled upon an old blog I’d written in June 2011 in which I’d talked about that very thing.

“What’s in a Name?” I’d called it.

It was like reading my diary from an interesting and somewhat turbulent time in my life. So, for fun, I’ll reblog it here.

What’s in a Name?

Rose, Mauwisa, Sophie and Bevie
Rose, Mauwisa, Sophie and Bevie

Choosing a heroine’s name is a tricky business. It must reflect her personality but as you and she will be spending a lot of time together, you want to love it, too.

I named my eldest daughter Sophie after the heroine of my first unpublished manuscript, written when I was seventeen. The book languished, unforgotten in a drawer but twenty years later Sophie got a new lease of life when my Norwegian husband and I chose it as a name that would work in both our homelands.

Names can sometimes appear like omens or talismans – or pegs on which to hang seemingly arbitrary life decisions.

When Sophie was two and we decamped to the Pacific where my husband Eivind was the new Chief Pilot of Solomon Airlines, many local girls turned up applying for the job of nanny and house girl. I’d recently started a new Regency Historical Romance featuring the lovely Rose Chesterfield so when one of the applicants told me her name was Rose it seemed a good omen. I hired her on the spot.
Me and Sophie on the Solomons
Me and Sophie on the Solomons

Rose was my heroine, both on paper and in real life. My earnest, hardworking Solomon Islands Rose from the island of Malaita took charge of the needs of house, husband and high octane toddler, enabling me to give my fictional Rose a life in the third dimension.

Nearly eight years later and with two books completed in the interim Rose Chesterfield in A Little Deception has had as many ups and downs as we’ve had in our married lives living in ten different countries. Barely recognisable as the original, A Little Deception tells the story of grand deceiver Rose Chesterfield who risks her reputation to save the family sugar plantation and winds up married to the deliciously notorious rake Viscount Rampton. Unfortunately what appears to be a happy ending is only the beginning of many trials and tribulations as a jealous adversary implicates Rose in a series of high profile jewel heists. When past secrets rear their ugly heads Rose must prove more than her innocence to regain the love of her once-smitten husband.
It was a lively, exhausting story which certainly underwent its own trials and tribulations. After winning the Strictly Single competition in was requested and ultimately rejected by Avon Senior Editor Erika Tsang, rewritten and finally sold to Robert Hale after I cut a further 15000 words from it.
Like my previous two books – Lady Sarah’s Redemption and Lady Farquhar’s Butterfly – the cover art was done by talented artist David Young. However when I look at the cover of A Little Deception I see more than just the beautiful ballroom scene. Instead I recall the sparkling vista of azure seas dotted with islands which I gazed upon from my verandah as I typed, sometimes in high spirits after a liquid lunch at the Honiara Hotel with friends from my multicultural mother’s group.
The expat community was small and vibrant. Barely a year had passed since the violent coup which brought down the government in 2000 and bullet holes still peppered some of the public buildings. RAMSI (Royal Australian Mission to Solomon Islands) was an initiative of the future, the roads were filled with potholes the size of craters and the evidence of a crumbling infrastructure was all around us. As we involved ourselves in volunteer work from providing water tanks and generators for the hospital to beautifying the capital to encourage business investment and tourism, we partied enthusiastically.
One of our favourite pastimes was descending into the unpleasant smelling basement of ‘XJ6’ every second Wednesday for the ‘ripping’ of the newly arrived bale of second hand clothing from Australia and New Zealand and to rummage through the flotsam and jetsam in search of the beautiful ‘seconds’ where everything cost the equivalent of one Australian dollar.
It was a competitive pastime and lots of fun appearing at the next embassy function kitted out in such affordable Lisa Ho, Perri Cutten or Alanah Hill designer wear. The foraging of two years in the Solomons has provided my attire for the Romance Writers of Australia’s conference dinners for the past eight years.
A Little Deception is due out in hardcover at the end of June and I have a number of library talks lined up throughout Melbourne. I like to think of my two heroines, deceiving debutante Rose Chesterfield and my own loyal Rose, enjoying a rosy future beyond the launch.

We were all casualties of a strife-torn political system. When our tenure on the island we considered our new home was cut unexpectedly short we could no longer provide Rose with a job as we no longer had one, ourselves. Rose went back to her subsistence existence on her island while we drifted, without a home base for many months, until a job came up and we established our footing on the next rung of the shaky ladder of life.

Rose Chesterfield was the panacea to my once nomadic existence while Malaitan Rose was my friend who learned English through our many conversations over the jugs of ‘bush lime’ for which she was famous.

A name is so much more than just a name and I miss both my Roses who are no longer such a large part of my life.

End of Blog 

 

Wicked Wager Extract #3

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Wicked Wager book back and front

 

Here is the third extract from Wicked Wager in which my heroine, Celeste, discovers the true identity of the man she kissed unexpectedly at Vauxhall Gardens.

Wicked Wager (A Georgian Romance)

 By Beverley Oakley

Lord Cowdril’s family seat dated back to Elizabethan times, with neat gravelled paths and formal gardens providing a charming venue for gentle exercise.

Lady Cowdril, who was easily exerted, never went beyond the second tier of rose bushes, she declared, due to her palpitating heart. However, the opening lines of her sentence, suggesting a return to the house, was truncated by a start of clear delight and rapid volte face.

‘Perry will give me his arm,’ she declared in robust tones, and they all turned to observe a figure issue from the front portico and down the steps, advancing towards them.

Perry? Celeste raised her eyebrows in a silent question regarding the identity of their new visitor, but as he was nearly upon them she followed the cue of the rest of her party: curtseying as she inclined her head in greeting of the arrival whose tall frame was coming into focus. Though to be sure, no one’s heart could be pounding as fiercely as hers, even Lady Cowdril’s in the midst of one of her palpitations.

She ventured a glance from beneath lowered lashes. He was impressive, even from a distance. Unusually, he wore his dark hair naturally, tied in a queue at the back, with informal country attire: knee breeches and knee boots with a dark wool coat. Yes, even from a distance she saw his eyes were very piercing.

Swallowing with difficulty, she was alarmed to observe, as he approached, that they were focused on her. Could it be that this gentleman, whose features were gaining greater distinction with every step, did indeed know her for her role in his sister’s distress?

She frowned as she noticed his full lips were curved in a smile; a smile that seemed only for her; and her heart did a skittering dance at the clear interest of this inimitable Viscount Peregrine as he rounded the rose bushes and finally came to stand in full view before them.

Dear Lord. Cognisance was like a stone dropping to the pit of her stomach. Those lips had covered hers not two nights before in a secluded arbour at Vauxhall Gardens. Those arms had held her against him in a lust-filled moment of abandonment. Sweet Mercy, but Perry—whoever he really was to Lady Cowdril—was Celeste’s handsome stranger.

She stood aside in rigid panic as the formalities were conducted. It only grew worse. This was Viscount Peregrine? Her heart rate ratcheted up several more notches. What would he say? How would he respond? Would he reveal her for the bold strumpet he no doubt thought her? Would she still be able to hold her head high by the end of the house party?

When, by some strange rearrangement of pairings, she found herself walking by his side, having no choice but to rest her hand on the forearm he offered her, she had completely lost the power of speech.

Lady Cowdril had managed one more turn around the rose bushes before seating herself with Celeste’s Aunt Branwell. However, the viscount, or Perry as everyone called him, had evinced a strong desire to admire the roses, calling upon Celeste’s recently lauded expertise.

The kindling look he sent her as they paused by the blooming bushes brought a surely far more vibrant bloom to her cheeks.

Lowering his head, as if to elicit some opinion on a deep red, velvet rose, he murmured, ‘Ah, the Apothecary’s Rose.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Now I have you all to myself.’

She wasn’t sure what to make of his words. Should she start with an abject apology for her behavior? A declaration she was not in the habit of consorting with strange men? Neither seemed appropriate when his eyes were twinkling with suppressed humour. Bending to smell the rose, she managed, ‘I prefer to call it by its less pedestrian name, the Red Rose of Lancaster.’ Self-consciously, she brushed an escaped strand of hair from her cheek. Then, summoning up all her courage, she whispered as she cast him an appealing look, ‘Should I be afraid?’

The look he levelled upon her was one of singular calculation. He chuckled. ‘Woe betide The House of Lancaster, for they did not prevail, did they? Hmm, Miss Rosington, your question depends on your assessment of our unexpected little encounter the other night. Was it pleasing, or were you never more relieved than when I melted into the dark? I must say, it really is the most extraordinary coincidence to find you here, when I’d thought never to lay eyes on you again.’ Plucking the rose, he handed it to her with a bow. ‘Perhaps the Rose of Lancaster will one day be an emblem of victory, but for my purposes right now, please accept it as a token of peace.’ He straightened, that wicked, difficult-to-interpret smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Nevertheless, to return to the subject of our little encounter … As I’d planned to rectify that little matter and ensure I was in a position to lay more than my eyes upon you again, Miss Rosington, perhaps you could say that fate has played into my hands most unexpectedly. You are even more ravishing in the harsh light of day than you were when last we met.’

Celeste shot him a startled look, mixed emotions roiling within her as she found him smiling down at her with both amusement and calculation.

‘You are too kind, my lord,’ she murmured, dropping her eyes as she took the rose, stepping forward to resume their walk. His words were both shocking but curiously exciting. She glanced at the ladies to ensure she was not likely to become the latest subject of their gossip, but they were well occupied with their own gossiping, and half obscured by the rose bushes.

‘A very pretty blush for a maiden who must be accustomed to having praise lavished upon her. So you are a friend of Lady Cowdril? Or your aunt is?’

‘I’ve known Lady Cowdril since I was a child. I did not know who you were, my lord. I don’t know what you must think of my—’

He stayed her rush to lay bare her shame with a finger upon her lips. His lips quirked and his dark eyes seemed to smoulder with everything that swirled between them. Again she felt the sharp rush of sensation spear her belly; the sensation that was familiar to her only in the presence of this gentleman.

‘Your behaviour came from the heart, Miss Rosington, for if you did not know who I was, then I can only be delighted that you found my attentions so pleasing based purely on your honest reaction to me as an ordinary man. You have no idea how delightful that is to a gentleman such as myself, who is constantly fielding off advances.’

His smile, warmer now, more sincere, made Celeste’s heart hammer even harder. So he didn’t condemn her? Nor, it seemed, had he drawn any association between her and his sister.

Thank the good Lord.

***

 

You can get Wicked Wager on all platforms here: books2read.com/u/49WoqW

Paperback: https://amzn.to/2BINoHa

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Wicked Wager Extract #2

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Wicked Wager

Here we have a second extract from Wicked Wager, my “Dangerous Liaisons-esque” novel of Georgian splendour and intrigue. Oh, but I just have to make that sacque-backed gown like the one Glenn Close wore to the opera. The manners, the clothes and the secret language of eye-rolls and enigmatic looks behind ivory fans is just my kind of thing.

I saw the movie a couple of weekends ago and Glenn Close and John Malkovich’s facial expressions are just classic. There’s such humour amidst the wicked intrigue!

But back to my story, Wicked Wager. Here is the scene where Lord Peregrine first meets Celeste having just plotted to ruin her life. (His response to her is not what he’d expected.)

Wicked Wager (A Georgian Romance)

 By Beverley Oakley

The last of the applause drifted away and for a few seconds the shrill cries of the orange sellers held sway. Rising from his ironic bow for the benefit of his companion, Lord Peregrine held back the red velvet curtain that had afforded them privacy so that Xenia could pass through and join the throng of theatregoers descending the sweeping staircase.

He saw that she had fallen into conversation with a club-footed general whose more than interested eye swept appraisingly over Xenia’s abundant assets, and once again Perry felt the familiar heating of his loins that only Xenia could inspire with a mere incendiary glance.

The contours of her sack-back gown, adorned with a row of bows the length of her stomacher, recalled the more lascivious of those thoughts he’d entertained for the past decade: what it would be like to undress her, layer by layer by layer. He could only imagine how many layers there might be, but the prize would be worth the exquisite torture of restraint. He’d not revealed quite how much her proposition tonight had taken him by surprise, and the fact he’d agreed fuelled him with an odd combination of conflicting sensations: raging lust tempered by the knowledge that he’d just sunk to depths of moral depravity that might make even his uncle squirm in his grave: seduce an innocent on the eve of her nuptials.

Except that Xenia maintained the young woman’s ingenuousness was a ploy. Still, Miss Rosington retained her standing in society as a paragon of virtue. What right had he to assume otherwise, just because it was convenient?

He was diverted by a squeal to his left. Xenia was moving ahead, caught up by the crowd, her head bent to absorb the admiration of her club-footed general. Peregrine meanwhile found himself unable to continue, due to the fact the young woman in front of him had snagged her skirts on what appeared to be a nail or splinter protruding from one of the supporting beams. No one could move until she’d freed herself, and as Peregrine was directly behind her it was incumbent upon him to act the gentlemen and so enable the rest of the pulsing crowd to forge ahead.

‘Please be careful, sir, it’ll tear and it’s the first time I’ve worn it,’ the young woman warned as he took a handful of stiff silk in one hand. ‘It’s my finest.’ She twisted her head round to address him.

As her lips parted, revealing a set of near perfect small white teeth, and her worried blue eyes bored into his, Peregrine felt a jolt of something unidentifiable plummet like a stone to the pit of his stomach. No, further than that, for without a doubt his groin was reacting with something akin to roiling hunger. And, surprisingly, with an intensity that exceeded the dull throb of ten years of wanting Xenia like a frustrated schoolboy.

Close to, Miss Rosington was exquisite, her pale white and rose-blushed skin far more lustrous than when seen from a distance through opera glasses. Her powdered coiffure, dressed to fashionable heights, accentuated high, rounded cheekbones; and with growing excitement he followed the sweep of her graceful neck to a bosom that was rising and falling with surely greater rapidity than fear of what peril her gown might face. He liked to think that was so, as her candid look met his and the connection between them seemed like the sharp tug of some inner cord, forcing him forward, his hand brushing hers, nestled beneath a froth of silken furbelows, as they both reached for the undamaged silk petticoat, now released.

‘No harm done,’ he murmured as she drew herself up, her companion, the black-eyed viscount to whom she was affianced, returning to claim her, drawing her away with the barest of thanks.

All over in a matter of seconds, and at what cost? For while silk skirts and dignity had escaped with minimal damage, Peregrine was the first to concede, as he watched her graceful back with pounding heart and aching groin, that a great deal of harm had indeed been done.

 

End of Extract #2

 

 

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Wicked Wager Excerpt

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Writing a book is a work in progress long after one’s editor has sent back the final draft for approval.

There’s the blurb to write, refine and then tinker endlessly with, endlessly, which is what I’ve been doing.

It helped that I watched the 1988 historical drama with Glenn Close and John Malkovich, Uma Thurman and Michelle Pfeiffer on the weekend. As I result I came up with the following blurb which I’ve followed up with an extract starting at the beginning.

I hope you enjoy it.

Wicked Wager book back and frontWicked Wager

Can innocence survive the machinations of a malevolent society beauty and a charismatic rake?

Two weeks before her nuptials to her cold, harsh cousin, virtuous Celeste Rosington finds herself in the arms of notorious libertine, Lord Peregrine.

The unexpected encounter is, at first, shocking, but as Peregrine’s charm weaves its magic, becomes a welcome distraction from Celeste’s troubles. Isn’t she already the subject of whispers due to her involvement in the mysterious disappearance of a wealthy plantation magnate–a role orchestrated by her demanding husband-to-be in which Celeste had failed spectacularly.

Nevertheless, Celeste has no intention of sacrificing all of her scruples for a man she knows is only toying with her. One kiss from handsome, charismatic Viscount Peregrine will surely be enough to give her the strength to fulfil her marital obligations?

But what if one kiss is not enough?

With her reputation in the balance, Celeste must navigate the treacherous waters of envy, intrigue and deadly secrets, unaware she’s the unwitting pawn in a wicked wager between a ruthless society beauty and delicious, dissolute Lord Peregrine.

Could Peregrine really be a party to such perfidious plans? Will his reckless charm be the final undoing of a young woman once respected for her virtue and piety?

Or will Peregrine discover that true love is more powerful than greed and ambition in time to save Celeste from the terrible fate that otherwise awaits her?

***

 Early Reviews

“Cloaked in mystery and dark agendas Wicked Wager…is a wonderful expedition into intrigue and romance! Nothing is as it seems in this book and as the story evolved clues and romance built.” ~ Jenerated Reviews.

“The author knows how to weave a web full of mystery and suspense, and I had a great time relating to the heroine. Wicked Wager isn’t the typical historical romance, it’s very complex and intense.” ~ Amazon Reader

“A great novel about a lord who is bored and likes playing games, especially when there are women involved. The game playing is fun and the romantic aspect is great.” ~ Amazon Reader

If you enjoyed the intrigue, wit and high drama of the 1988 period romance Dangerous Liaisons, you’ll love Wicked Wager.

Hurry while it’s still only 99c! You can Buy Wicked Wager on all platforms here: 

Paperback

Large Print paperback

And here’s the Extract

Wicked Wager (A Georgian Romace)

by Beverley Oakley

Chapter one

Lord Peregrine liked a wager. The cards, the horses, occasionally a pair of spiders, could whip up his blood and tip him out of the lethargy and ennui which characterised his usual state of being.

This wager, though, was different. He could feel it in the sudden stillness into which he’d been plunged; the colour, vibrancy and chatter that had washed about him from the moment he and Xenia had stepped into their box at the theatre, sucked into the void.

Xenia’s seductive purr as she put her head close to his was as sweet as a feather skimming his heated, naked flesh.

And as dangerous as a black widow’s bite.

‘Come, Perry, it’s not like you to have scruples.’

He blinked to clear his mind and as his gaze raked the breathtaking contours of London’s most beautiful widow—and probably its most immoral—he wasn’t sure if the thrumming of blood to his extremities was due to outrage or titillation.

Slowly he exhaled, acknowledging almost sadly that it was the latter, which would of course confirm society’s opinion of him as a bored and dissolute libertine who’d done nothing but wallow in his father’s wealth, living a life of scandal. A man totally without redemption. Indeed he would deserve every uncomplimentary epithet hurled at him if he accepted darling Xenia’s outrageous wager.

He surprised himself with his hesitation. A sudden flowering of moral fibre? Or fear? Clearly Xenia was surprised by his lack of enthusiasm, for she glanced at him askance, before her lips curved into that devastating smile that never failed to render him no better than her unruly, slavering hounds of whom she was so fond, who rutted with anything that crossed their paths.

And there was the rub. Yes, he was immoral, he was dissolute, but at thirty-three he couldn’t believe he was totally beyond redemption.

Lord Peregrine sighed, abandoning the daydream he was better than he was—for that’s all it was—and met Xenia’s ice blue gaze while he schooled his features to betray no emotion. A lifetime’s practice under the brutal tutelage of his uncle had made this easy. He could appear unmoved when it was true to say that he still was capable of some feeling. Whether that was a good thing or not was a matter he’d not yet decided.

And then he took another sip of his champagne. Around him the theatre once again pulsed with the energy he’d been conscious of before Xenia’s carefully calculated whisper.

Oh, she was good. She knew exactly how to stir his blood.

Xenia gave a soft, throaty laugh. ‘She’s over there, if you want to look.’

He followed the direction indicated by her elegant finger, towards the stalls where two society beauties, with painted faces and elaborate pomaded coiffures two-feet high, were making eyes at the gentlemen over the top of ivory pointed fans.

‘No, not there!’

Peregrine smiled. He enjoyed teasing her. Xenia was quick to irritation. Quick to anger, and quick to passion, too.

The high-pitched inducements of the girls selling oranges in the pits almost drowned out the wavering top notes, which concluded the opera singer’s aria; and as Peregrine searched for the object under discussion, his thoughts revolved around the usual litany of: ‘Diversion, diversion; anything for diversion’.

No, certainly these were not the thoughts of a gentleman; more like a wolf wearing the trappings of one.

‘She’s a beauty, isn’t she?’

He was aware that Xenia was watching him carefully, but again Peregrine schooled his features into a mask of indifference, even before he’d assimilated the scene before him.

And then the blurred images coalesced into one and as he regarded the handsome couple seated across the gallery, something in the graceful movements of the young woman stirred his senses, triggering an emotion not dissimilar to the energy that surged through him as he followed the hunt, charging with the rest of them after the wily fox.

By God, it was good to feel something that wasn’t boredom.

Xenia, or rather Lady Busselton, as she’d become, lowered her opera glasses, her arched eyebrows and pursed lips showing how much she was enjoying Peregrine’s reaction to her suggestion.

Her wicked wager.

He hooked one elegantly shod foot over his black satin pantaloons, regarding her over steepled fingers as he considered his response. The heat and smell from hundreds of bodies pressed close to enjoy tonight’s production was making his head pound.

Or was it excitement? Revenge wasn’t usually a game he played. Well, not with a woman as the spoils.

‘You, of all people, Perry, know that the incomparable Miss Celeste Rosington is as far removed as is possible from the celestial virgin she is painted.’

Xenia raised her shoulder slightly in the direction of the couple across from them who, heads bent together, hands almost touching, represented the epitome of lovebirds on the eve of their nuptials.

‘Your poor sister knows it, to her eternal cost.’ She gave a husky laugh; the same laugh that for ten years had never failed to make Peregrine harden with instant desire. ‘Come, my dearest Perry, it’s not like you to allow your scruples to get in the way. After all, she has none.’

She was prodding, and would continue, until she got her reaction. Xenia, the tearaway cosseted only daughter of a ruthless and successful sea captain who had gone to extraordinary lengths to ensure she got her heart’s desire—including two husbands with fortune and title—had changed little since Perry had become acquainted with her in her first season out. Back then she’d put financial and social considerations above their mutual attraction, accepting an earl that trumped a lowly viscount. He suspected—hoped—she’d rued the day.

‘Scruples? I hope I have some at least, Xenia. And no, it’s not scruples that give me pause. It’s whether I have the stomach to further an acquaintance with a jezebel like Miss Rosington, even if I have every reason to see her revealed for what she is.’ There. He’d just proved himself a gentleman before any unflattering epithet could be added. ‘For a start, what do you suppose my sister would say if she heard I was sniffing after the woman who … well, destroyed her life, to use Charlotte’s own words?’

Xenia pursed her mouth and raised one thin, charcoaled eyebrow. Though no longer in her first flush of youth, she continued to exude the most potent sexual allure of any woman Peregrine had met. With or without powder and rouge she was still a beauty, with the delicate bone structure of her long-dead mother, an impoverished aristocrat who’d married the coarse, bluff ship’s captain after he’d amassed a fortune with his growing fleet plying a lucrative trade with the Far East in spices, slaves and silks.

Not that her heritage was something Xenia discussed. Though she eschewed her links with trade, she was quick to utilise the benefits of a seemingly endless supply of funds, even when husbands were not so forthcoming; and to prod the captain’s more ruthless streak when it might be of any benefit.

She continued to fix Peregrine with her calculating blue stare. ‘Your sister is no fool. Why, Charlotte would understand perfectly well that the only reason you could possibly show an interest in Miss Rosington was because you were avenging her; doing what any loyal brother would for his unjustly treated dear sister.’

For some reason Xenia’s little wager seemed to have fired her blood. She patted Perry’s shoulder, her expression a mask of false sympathy. ‘Poor Charlotte has been made to look a fool. Surely you, Perry, wish to know why Miss Rosington was discovered, half undressed, by your sister in Mr Carstair’s saloon before the two of them rushed guiltily into the night? Surely, you, Perry, know that the only way you’re going to help Charlotte is to get close to that designing Miss Rosington—’ she jabbed a finger at the unaware couple, ‘who’s looking moon-eyes at her betrothed—and find out for yourself. Why did she do it? Boredom? A wager? The fact is, your sister is heartbroken, her reputation tarnished … while Miss Celeste remains society’s darling, soon to wed her cousin in the match of the season.’

She breathed deeply, a provocative motion since it brought into greater evidence her full, lush breasts, revealed to ample advantage in her low-cut confection of gold embroidered silk and lace.

Her eyes slid over Perry’s elegantly turned-out form and settled on his face, her lips pursed in a suggestive moué. ‘If you wish to sample what you’ve always wanted, Perry darling,’ the unexpected insinuation of her body as reward made him harden even more, ‘and discover for yourself what has enthralled my long list of lovers, then call it amusement, but also atonement, that I attach this condition.’ She sat back, fanning herself languidly while her bosom strained against her bodice.

Another glance at her face revealed her suppressed excitement: eyes bright, her neat, curvaceous body quivering. ‘Reveal to the world the truth of what Miss Celeste really is. Let the public understand it so that they might revile her for the woman who stole your sister’s happiness. And at the same time, you can find out where Harry Carstairs is. After that, I will make you very happy.’ The candlelight reflected off her pretty, pearl-like teeth, her look a mixture of lustful intent and daring. As she leaned back, eyes brimming with promise over the tips of her fan, her final words sealed the deal. ‘After so many years’ friendship, Perry darling, I think it’s time to raise the stakes—don’t you?’

End of Extract

And don’t forget, it’s only on sale for a short time on all platforms here.

Wicked Wager – special preorder price of 99c

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Wicked Wager
Wicked Wager

Who doesn’t love a Wicked Wager?

My formative years were in the 1980s. Having been a dramatic teenager who thrived on gothic tragedy and who devoured the 19th century classics, I fell in love with the 1988 period romantic drama film, Dangerous Liaisons starring Glenn Close, John Malkovich, Michelle Pfeiffer, Keanu Reeves and Uma Thurmann.

The convoluted plotting between the ruthless society beauty, the Marquise de Merteuil (played by Glenn Close) and the dissolute – but ultimately redeemed –  Vicomte de Valmont (played by John Malkovich) to seduce the virtuous Madame de Tourvel (played by Michelle Pfeiffer) was wonderful fodder for my own literary endeavours.

In fact, every book I’ve written owes a nod to the intrigue and plot twists of this fabulous story by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos.

Now my own variation on the above – Wicked Wager – is up for preorder. It features the ruthless society beauty, Xenia, Lady Busselton, offering an unusual reward to the bored and dissolute Lord Peregrine if he succeeds in seducing the virtuous innocent Celeste Rosington on the eve of her nuptials.

Unlike Dangerous Liaisons, however, the motivations surrounding this wicked wager are very different, as are the plot twists. And, as it’s a romance, there’s a satisfying happy ending – unlike in Dangerous Liaisons.

I’m really excited about this book and for the next month it’s available for the special pre-order price of only 99c.

The beautiful new cover was designed by the talented Charmaine Ross and the book went up as a preorder last night. If I’m lucky, all my launch strategies will align like the perfect storm and Wicked Wager will go live on April 7 with 20 reviews to help propel it into visibility.

I hope it strikes a chord with those who enjoy period dramas heavy with intrigue and unexpected plot twists and that the ending achieves the “Aah, that was sooo satisfying”, emotional response so crucial to a good romance.

You can get Wicked Wager on all platforms as an ebook here.

Also, it’ll be available as print and Large Print within the next few days.

If it’s not showing on all platforms as of today’s date, you can get it on Amazon here.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU

Happy reading!

*Note: Wicked Wager was originally released by Harlequin Escape under my Beverley Eikli name but has since been revised.

Daughters of Sin Box Set Special

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With just another couple of days left during which the first three books in my Daughters of Sin series is discounted to only 99c, I thought I’d post my favourite review of 2018 here. It’s on Goodreads and I felt it epitomised the series as a whole.

You see, while Daughters of Sin is categorised as a Regency romance, it really crosses a lot of genres. There’s espionage, suspense, sizzling passion, characters behaving badly (including the heroine, sometimes) and, as many reviewers point out, a page-turning race to an unexpected ending.

So, here it is – the review that made my day!

And, as I mentioned, the first three books in the single box set have been hugely discounted to 99c so grab it while it’s still a bargain! You can get it here!

Daughters of Sin, by Beverley Oakley

This is a five volume series which consists of Her Gilded Prison, Dangerous Gentlemen, The Mysterious Governess, Beyond Rubies, and Lady Unveiled: The Cuckold Conspiracy.

It is, without doubt, the most crooked, twisted, and complex Regency Series I have ever read. By the end of the story virtually no one has escaped from not merely downright scandal, but near-criminal actions.

In essence, it’s the story of two pairs of sisters by the same father–one set nobly born, the other illegitimate. Araminta and Hetty are the titled sisters. Lissa and Kitty are the illegitimate ones. Both pairs of sisters share the same father–Humphrey, Lord Partington. The two legitimate girls are recognized by him, the two illegitimate girls, not. And that’s where all the trouble starts.

The story begins with Humphrey seeking a legitimate heir, whom he finds in Stephen Cranborne, a distant cousin. Stephen is sort of expected to court the eldest daughter Araminta, but instead falls for her mother, Lady Sybil Partington, who has spent twenty years in a loveless marriage. Already you can see where this is going.

Araminta, however is a piece of work. She is shrewd, cunning, highly ambitious and planning to take over the estate if she can manage it–and she definitely thinks she can. Araminta is so clever she can always manage to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, and forever manages to turn every good thing into something twisted and wrong, until the very end of the series where she comes up smelling like roses. You have to read it to believe it!

Her sister Hetty plays second fiddle throughout, and has to fight for every little bit of recognition. She does manage to snare Araminta’s beloved, however–but it only adds to the complexities.

But it’s the two illegitimate girls who drive the action. Both escape the village in which they were scorned as bastards, even as their mother is having another illegitimate child by Sir Humphrey. Kitty becomes Kitty La Bijou, the actress (horrors) and the toast of London. Lissa becomes a governess with a talent for sketching that leads to blackmail, and that’s where the villain enters the story. Lord Debenham is a cruel scoundrel who is not above blackmailing and even killing his rivals, and when he and Araminta become entangled you know the worst is going to happen.

Between blackmail plots, treasonous cabals, and illegitimate children born to one and all, the story becomes a seething mess of contradictory actions that never ceases for a minute. By the end of this tale of Regency madness perhaps the only person who emerges with an unsullied reputation is Ralph Tunley, Lord Debenham’s secretary, (a secret agent dedicated to finding evidence of Debenham’s wrong doing) who somehow manages to keep his head above the boiling water.

I must say I rushed from book to book in the series, fascinated over what was going to happen next. I was never disappointed. Beverley Oakley knows how to keep her readers reading, and the fact that I bought the series as a bundle at least kept me happy while I ran through it.

Each of these books deserves a review of its own, but I hope this outline will serve for all. If you buy the boxed set, which is quite reasonably priced, you will be set for hours of chair-edge reading. A great buy and a great read!”

So inspired have I been by this summary by a reader who liked my series that I’ve raced ahead into writing Book 6 which starts a couple of months after Book 5 ends. 

Buy now for only 99c.