Title: An Untimely Romance
Author: J & L Wells
Genre: New Adult, Time Travel Romance
Hosted by: Lady Amber's Reviews & PR
Heather Richardson is a seventeen-year-old British girl whose life quickly becomes an emotional roller coaster when she meets Ruben Brown, a controlling twenty-four-year-old man who works for her father at Freesdon Manor. As much as Heather wants to love Ruben, the cracks in their relationship begin to show as her eighteenth birthday draws nigh.
In a surprising turn of events Heather is confronted by Frank, an intriguing man from a past that dates back to the nineteenth century. His untimely presence changes everything.
When she’s thrown back in time by an unrelenting force, Heather realizes that her life is not what it appears to be. Her future has already been written, and it seems she cannot escape her fate, a fate determined by a love lost long ago. In her struggle to find herself, Heather must choose her destiny amidst a dangerous love triangle, vengeful lovers, and passions controlled by the hands of time.
Laura Wells has a love of books, animals and, of course, Jane Austen. She enjoys spending her spare time with her family and two mad Shiba Inus. She lives in Staffordshire, England.
Laura and Judy are a mother and daughter duo; with Judy's love of poetry and writing and Laura's ideas, they work extremely well together. Time-travel and romance novels are their passion.
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2kiuBId
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2kiuBId
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00D0WZ57S
Chapter One Ye Olde England
“Oh, Mr Boswel,” Anna sighed awkwardly, biting her bottom lip as he gazed seductively into her eyes. She placed her small-gloved hand into his and he smiled, but no words passed between them. The heady concerto played by the musicians faded into insignificance, the guests and all their formalities forgotten in the moment. He led her into an open hallway towards the larger of two grand staircases. She could hardly breathe. His dark-brown eyes were hypnotic and with every gaze they burned into hers. His jet-black hair fell in soft waves around his shoulders, while small curls drifted onto his forehead, which he had a habit of flicking back to reveal his face. And oh, what a face, with his chiselled jawline, high cheekbones and overly full lips, perfect traits complemented by a rich olive skin tone and pretty, near perfect complexion.
Anna had waited so long for this moment. She felt her legs trembling beneath her, hoping upon hope that they wouldn’t give way. Upon reaching the first floor, guilt descended upon her. She knew what she was about to embark on was wrong and that she’d be judged, but on second glance down the stairs, across the hall and through the arched doorway, she saw that those in attendance at the masquerade ball danced on and drank merrily, oblivious to their departure.
She wasn’t allowed to linger for long, as Mr Boswel’s firm grip pulled her slightly off balance and she stumbled wearily. Aware that the hour was late, her gaze wandered briefly before coming to rest on the ornate grandfather clock in its regal attire, situated equidistantly between the two staircases, both hands sitting comfortably on the number one.
Mr Boswel’s eyes held a warm reassurance as he led her across the landing towards a large oak door. “After you, madam,” he gestured, opening the door.
“Thank y’ sir,” she uttered nervously.
Why me? Anna thought to herself as her conscience juggled with reality, still questioning why he had given her the time of day. With his good looks and his status, he really could have anybody he desired. On close inspection, Anna knew she was anything but beautiful; even as a child, her mother referred to her as plain. It wasn’t that she had a bad face, just not an overly pretty one; her eyes perhaps too small, their colour quite insignificant – somewhere between light blue and grey – and strawberry-blonde hair scraped back rather severely in a bun. There wasn’t anything dynamic about her features either; even her nose had a slight tilt to the left – a flaw nobody else would have picked up on.
Then the door closed behind them and they were alone at last, away from unwanted roving eyes. It was a moment she’d longed for, for what seemed like an eternity.
She found herself in a large bedchamber, a four-poster bed made from a deep rich wood taking centre stage, its precise carvings inlaid with gold leaf in large spirals. Warm red silk drapes, not quite scarlet, perhaps a shade or two deeper complemented the bed. The room exuded wealth, with its deep-mahogany furnishings, high walls and numerous gilt edged portraits.
Anna felt lost in her new surroundings.
She jumped, and her eyes were drawn once again towards the handsome Mr Boswel, who had already removed his shoes and was now reclined on the bed, propped up by two thick cotton bolsters. His long taupe waistcoat was draped untidily over a padded-back chair, and she watched tentatively as he started unbuttoning his linen shirt to reveal a toned physique.
“Join me,” he murmured, his voice soft and inviting.
Her heart was beating so heavily in her chest as she made her way over to the bed that she was sure he’d be able to hear. She was even tempted to hold her breath. He leaned his body forward towards hers as she sat nervously on the edge of the bed. She knew he was going to take her, and although she felt way out of her depth, she wanted him so very badly. He smelt so fine, his broad chest brushing against her arm; she could feel the soft hairs between his nipples, and then their hardness.
She was burning inside as he ran his fingers longingly over her body. She felt his breath, then his lips, tenderly at first as they began caressing the nape of her neck, and then with an urgency, a hunger, the tenderness turned to lust. Their lips met for the first time and he pulled her body roughly onto his, quickly loosening the bodice of her gown and starting to untie the lacings of her corset…
“Anna,” he whispered, a husky lilt to his voice.
“Mr Boswel…” were the only words to leave her lips as they lay lost in the moment, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Stay here with me tonight.”
“Sir, I’ll be tellin’ y’, I’m betrothed to another,” Anna replied, shedding tears of guilt while darting around the room, recovering her garments.
Mr Boswel sighed. “An unfortunate predicament in which you find yourself, my dear,” he said, lifting himself slightly and leaning the weight of his body on his elbows, looking at her earnestly while she dressed.
“Mr Boswel, yer reputation precedes ye.”
“Perhaps, Anna, but they are just empty conquests.”
“All but one, sir.” Anna paused, awaiting his response, but the words she longed for were not forthcoming.
“This I cannot deny, but I would be grateful if you were not to mention her name. She is now but a ghost from my past.”
“I must take yer leave, sir. I’ll be missed.” Fear grew in her voice. “Mr Boswel, I ain’t gonna live a life with ye as me guilty secret.”
“Well, Anna, that’s all I have to offer you. At this present time you must be patient… I…”
Anna interrupted him before he could continue. “Please, sir, I beg of ye, say no more. I think it best I bid ye farewell.”
With that, she walked out of the room and out of his life, sure that he was watching until she closed the door.