on February 1st 2018
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After a shocking incident, shy Lady Isabella Beaumont is perfectly happy to stay in the background and let her sister get all the attention from handsome suitors! However, working with Dr. Joseph Warriner to help the sick and needy pushes her closer to a man than she’s ever been before. Is this man worth trusting with her deepest of desires…?
Hi everyone! I’m thrilled to be on Buried Under Romance again to celebrate the release of my latest novel A Warriner to Tempt Her and to giveaway 3 eBook copies to three lucky winners. Like all my books, it can be read as a standalone, although this is also the third book in my Wild Warriners series following the individual stories of the four Warriner brothers. They have been huge fun to write as each brother is so very different, just like the heroines I paired them with. This book follows Joseph Warriner, the swoon-worthy doctor with a heart of pure gold who cannot stop helping people. The story starts with Joe suffering from a bad case of unrequited love…
Dr Joseph Warriner sat down behind his desk with an air of resignation. Despite today’s genuine attempt at resolve, he realised such efforts were ultimately futile. His situation was pathetic. Worse—he was pathetic. He flicked out the dented gold pocket watch he always wore secured to his sensible dark waistcoat and knew, before even looking at the dial, it was almost eight o’clock. The fact he had checked the stupid thing every two minutes for the last half an hour irritated him, as did the sorry realisation he had also been drawn to participate in this ridiculous ritual for almost a month now. Drawn like a sailor to the sirens.
And for what? One transient dance exactly twenty-eight days ago. A few exchanged, meaningless pleasantries whilst he had stood with her other eager admirers, tossed randomly like discarded breadcrumbs to a yard full of chickens. Or like today, for a surreptitious glimpse of the cause of his torment, guiltily stolen through the heavy lace that covered the windows when he knew, deep down, his foolish heart was once again chasing a shadow.
The whole sorry situation was pathetic.
Angrily his snapped the watch closed and turned his chair towards the window and waited. Just like he had every Tuesday or Friday morning in the last few weeks, at precisely eight o’clock, the glossy black carriage turned into the square exactly on time. It was market day in Retford and she always came to shop on market day. And the fact she was always so punctual also irritated him. Just for once he wished she would be late and he would be forced to attend to his first patient of the day, whose appointment was now timed for five past the hour on market days instead of on the dot of eight as usual. Another sign of how lamentable this folly was. It would be much better to do something worthwhile rather than waste his time engaging in this pointless ritual, especially as he already had a mountain of tasks to complete today. But, no—this carriage was a creature of habit, much like its vexing occupant, and it slowed to a stop just past the window of Joe’s surgery as it always did. To torture him.
Carefully he moved the very edge of the curtain so that he could get a better view and watched as the footman opened the carriage door. After a few seconds, one surprisingly sensibly shod foot, with an intriguingly shapely ankle, appeared. His breath hitched.
He had never seen her ankles before and was staggered a common formation of bones would affect him so. How many ankles had he seen in his career? Hundreds? Thousands probably, yet the sight of hers made his heart beat faster.
The glorious ankle was closely followed by a bonnet-covered head. Without even seeing it, he knew her golden hair would be arranged in a becoming and fashionable style, but that already several of the silky strands, the colour of which he had often considered to be the exact shade of wheat freshly harvested and kissed by the sun, would resent being tamed and begun escaping its pins. True to form, these would frame her bewitching face in tiny spiral curls he yearned to wind around his fingers.
Of course, he could never do that. If he did—well, then he would probably have to remove every single pin so he could enjoy watching that mass of curls tumble over her shoulders and down her back. Especially now he had seen those ankles. He closed his eyes and savoured the fantasy for a moment.
Lady Clarissa Beaumont.
Joe exhaled slowly and watched her gather herself together. For a fleeting moment she turned and he saw just her cheek—perfect peaches and cream skin—but was cruelly denied the sight of her wide, almond-shaped blue eyes in a shade so glorious that it would have made even the Caribbean Sea jealous. He caught a fleeting glimpse of her plump pink lips as she smiled at the footman and a bolt of ridiculous jealousy surged through him at the innocent exchange.
Because the delectable Clarissa, fêted society beauty, was largely ignorant of the fact he even existed. Thank heavens the ethereal Clarissa was also blissfully unaware the man currently hidden behind the curtain of his office was suffering from a terminal case of unrequited love. More painful this morning, for some reason, than it had ever been before. Probably because of those ankles, he realised. A few inches of silk-covered leg and he was already burning with lust. The lust was a new sensation. Up until today, his love had been pure, the courtly kind of old and not sullied with that base, human emotion. But up until today he had been denied the sight of those magnificent ankles, so he supposed his sudden physical reaction was to be expected. What was love without passion anyway?
She turned and his heart soared—then promptly plummeted to his toes. She was quite the wrong sister. Not Lady Clarissa Beaumont at all, charming, blonde and effervescent. But Lady Isabella Beaumont. Pretty, yes, and clearly in possession of a damn fine pair of legs, but rather a serious, unsociable individual. And very definitely a brunette. Her ruler-straight dark locks suited her dour personality. She took the basket the footman offered her, stood and regarded the marketplace with obvious disdain and strode away purposefully. Hardly a surprise when Lady Isabella did everything with purpose, whether that be blatantly reading a book during an assembly when every other girl was dancing or doing good deeds…
To be in with a chance of winning a digital copy of A Warriner to Tempt her…
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~~Reviewed by Monique~~
Every Tuesday and Friday for the past twenty-eight days, Dr Joe Warriner sat in his surgery, waiting to glimpse to the woman of his dreams: the incandescent Lady Clarissa Beaumont. Instead that fateful day, her sister Isabella was alone. The dour, bookish and foreboding “Bella” Joe had seen hugging the walls at assemblies. But Bella had noticed the handsome doctor, were it not for the London “incident”, Bella could entertain wishes…
I have reached the conclusion that it has become impossible for me to review a book by Virginia Heath without making a complete and utter fool of myself, because I am entirely overwhelmed by Ms. Heath’s brilliance; by her boundless creativity; the sheer splendour of her incomparable prose; her deeply human characters; her sensitivity to human suffering; and her unparalleled storytelling abilities. I have raved about the two previous instalments of The Wild Warriners, and A WARRINER TO TEMPT HER might be the best of the three; it is such an outstanding series, I honestly couldn’t tell unless I read them all again. Dr Joe Warriner is a brilliant physician and a hopeless romantic fool; a consummate professional and clueless when it comes to women; and overall, a supremely delightful hero. Bella, who was once as dazzling as her sister, is a shell of her former self; she has been hurt badly, and seldom has it felt more gratifying to witness a person heal; what a beautiful character! And what a gorgeous, breathtaking romance theirs is; let me swoon!
Virginia Heath has done an inordinate amount of research into the state of medicine in Regency England, which made A WARRINER TO TEMPT HER positively enthralling on several fronts: the stubbornness of many medical professionals when faced with modernity; the appalling treatments for some maladies (I still shiver at the mention of hysteria); and the deadly consequences of the sheer stupidity of clinging to superstitions. Not to mention, of course, the injustice of banning women from studying medicine. While it is not necessary to have read the previous books in the series, readers familiar with A Warriner to Rescue Her will smile fondly at the mention of “Orange Blossom” and shout with unadulterated glee at the consequences of small-mindedness. Oh but that was ever so satisfying; I certainly did not see it coming, and it was a stroke of genius!
Might as I try, I will never be able to do justice to the splendour that is A WARRINER TO TEMPT HER, so I will conclude with this: if you love historical romance, you need to read this book or any book by Virginia Heath, because I’m not quite sure if anyone can do it better.
I voluntarily reviewed an advanced reader copy of this book.