Josette by Kathleen Bittner Roth

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JOSETTE

When Hearts Dare #3

Kathleen Bittner Roth

Releasing Sept 29th, 2015

Kensington: Zebra

"Monsieur Andrews, welcome to my home."

At the smoky, velvet sound, Cameron swung around. Every function in his body--heart, breath, blood ceased to function.

She was lovely. More than lovely.

Tendrils of raven hair framed a face so exquisite, it disarmed him. Her mouth, a soft, dewy pink, parted. And those eyes, as dark as Creole coffee, intelligent and assessing, roamed over him and then back to take hold of his. He needed to step closer, to stroke her skin. To possess her. But would his wealth and worldly experience be a match for the free-spirited Cajun-born widow?

Across the oceans, between worlds old and new--two lost souls find themselves at a crossroads.

"An exciting new voice in historical romance." --Anna Campbell, award-winning author of What a Duke Dares

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 “Ho, there, Mister Andrews,” Davey, his dockhand, shouted. “Serenity heavin’ to. The wind’s shifted, so she’ll be coming ’round port-side. Best ye step back, sir.”
    Seagulls swooped and squawked, wheeling and diving into the choppy waters like pirates after buried treasure. The sleek clipper, her sails drawing in, glided silently to the dock. Sailors tossed a couple of ratlines. Davey grabbed one, while Cameron slipped the other over the mooring post he’d just vacated. The vessel came to a complete stop in the water.
    The gangplank lowered. First off the ship was a scowling, red-cheeked captain, the ship’s log tucked under one arm, as he dragged a scruffy boy by the neck.
    Cameron stepped forward. “Looks like you got yourself a stowaway, Hallowell.”
    “The little bastard is all yours now, by God.” The captain gave the boy a hard shove.
    The lad, his face smeared with dirt, stumbled to a halt in front of Cameron, shoulders scrunched in an exaggerated wince as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Why you be draggin’ me like dat? I was damn glad to be off dat boat, don’cha know. Merde! I would’ve come down on my own without you trying to rip my head off.”
    Bloody hell if it wasn’t a no-account Cajun straight out of the bayou. “Ship,” Cameron drawled. “Never refer to my fine line of vessels as boats.”
    The breeze kicked up and swirled around the boy, shooting an acrid scent up Cameron’s nostrils—sweat, dirt, and frayed clothing that likely hadn’t seen a washing the entire trip. If ever. “Christ, you smell like Napoleon’s army after a forty-day march.”
    “Probably worse,” Hallowell responded. “He refused a bath the entire journey. Can’t figure how a body not used to the sea could find so many places to hide. Whenever I mentioned even a little water around the ears, the guttersnipe vanished so fast I had to scratch my head and wonder if he wasn’t an apparition. I finally gave up and stuck to my duties. It was either that or toss him overboard and forget I ever saw him. Can’t tell you how many times I was sorely tempted to do that very thing.”
    The boy shot a fiery glance at the captain and muttered a French profanity so foul, Cameron was glad Hallowell didn’t understand the language. “Take your leave, Hallowell. I’ll see to the scalawag. Is my replacement aboard?”
    “Aye.” The captain jerked his thumb in the air behind him and headed for the company offices.

Born in Minnesota, Kathleen Bittner Roth has lived all over the U.S.: Idaho, Washington, California, Texas and New York. Currently, she resides in Budapest, Hungary, often called the Paris of the East. Kathleen has won countless awards for her writing, including finaling in RWA's prestigious Golden Heart contest. She is an active member of Romance Writers of America, including the Hearts Through History chapter and has been a contributing editor for an online romance magazine as well as writing and producing successful seminars and meditation CDs.

You can learn more about Kathleen and her books at kathleenbittnerroth.com 

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