No, you won’t find it here…But that is the premise of Kendra’s Choice, my novella which will be released in October.
Book Blurb: Kendra Parker needs a man--it's research for Widow Swanson's article, "What Every Woman Needs to Know about Her Marriage Bed." But the sparse population of Eastern Colorado in 1883 doesn't offer many choices, until Major Marlow arrives.
Sterling Marlow rode into the Parker farm in time to celebrate the wedding of one of Kincaid Parker's daughters. But it was the Pastor's older daughter, Kendra, who caught his attention. Her seductive body wanted him, and who was he to deny the needs of a young woman?
Of course in romance books the hero and heroine fall madly in love and live happily ever after. 99% of the time they marry, because, after all, it is a romance novel. But in reality, the ‘romance’ or ‘love’ didn’t play into marriage until the mid-1800’s. Some claim woman’s suffrage had a lot to do with it.
At first marriages happened for pure survival, it provided a safer environment for creating and raising offspring—the goal was to continue our species. Next came marriages of convenience. From the poorest societies to the wealthiest, it was to merge funds, land, and belongings, each union was meant to build upon what the families or societies already owned. Love was never a consideration. Some actually thought it was an encumbrance or nuisance to ‘fall’ in love with a spouse. After all, the merger wasn’t about the bride and groom, but the ‘power’ of the union.
During the 1800’s woman where becoming more educated, and independent, they no longer ‘needed’ a man to survive. They could own land, earn income, and demand respect…so therefore ‘love’ became a ‘reason’ to get married. And mating became something more than a duty to assure the family continued into the next generation. In other words, ‘sex’ was fashioned. It became an act to be enjoyed instead of endeavored. And low and behold the romance novel was created.
In Kendra’s Choice, Kendra isn’t looking for love, she wants to experience sex. It’s all she can think about since reading the Widow Swanson’s article. This fact, of course, floors Sterling, and eventually he threatens to tell her father about the ‘little game’ she’s playing.
It was fun to put this type of twist on a historical romance novel and watch how it played out for the characters. Here’s a short blurb:
"And this here is my other daughter,” Kincaid said.
Sterling turned and this time he couldn’t tug his lids down. He was too stunned. For a split second he thought he might have to pound on his chest to get the air out of his locked lungs. When the air did release itself, he coughed at the whoosh.
“Kendra, this is Major Sterling Marlow,” Kincaid continued.
His eyes had gone dry from lack of blinking. Sterling closed his lids, but quickly opened them again—half afraid the vision might disappear in the blink of an eye. She hadn’t, and the sight made his groin tighten and grow with such ferocity it almost took his breath away, again.
Straight long hair, the exact color of a chestnut filly, fluttered in the wind. Flyaway strands twirled around her face, and as graceful as a songbird flies, she raised a hand, brushing it aside. The sight was indescribable. He’d never seen anything lovelier, more perfect. Her eyes were so blue, he wondered if she’d plucked them out of the Colorado sky. Their gazes met, and his heart slammed into the side of his ribcage with a solid thud.
One of her thin, fine brows rose in a subtle arch as those blue eyes lowered to his feet, and with a hot, piercing gaze slowly eased all the way up his body. When the intense stare paused for a brief moment near his belt buckle, his shaft jolted. He swallowed, took a fortifying breath, and met her eye for eye when her gaze once again lifted to his face.
A coy smile twisted her mouth as the tip of her tongue slipped out to moisten pink lips. Sweat popped out on his neck, he tensed against the shiver rippling over his shoulders.
Kendra Parker lowered her hand from her hair, held it out to him.
It took every once of control not to grab her hand, pull her against his chest, and kiss the hell out of her. He’d never met a more beautiful woman, nor had one made love to him with their eyes before. Damn! He was wound tighter than a diamond back. Exhaling, low and slow, he reached for her hand.
“Miss Parker,” he greeted, wincing at how his tone was a good three notes higher than normal.
“Major.” Her voice was as lovely as the rest of her—soft, sweet, and more provocative than any saloon girl could ever hope to mimic.
She didn’t try to pull her hand away, just let her supple, smooth palm rest against his. Their matching heat mingled, danced. Those blue eyes, still locked onto his, smoldered with enough heat to spark a fire all the way down in Texas. His toes curled inside his boots.
Kincaid’s voice broke through the buzzing in his ears. “Kendra, your mother needs your help.”
The fingers wrapped around his hand tightened for a split second, and the long lashes over her eyes lowered. Her lips pursed as she let out a long breath before she said, “Yes, Papa.”
Sterling told his hand to let go, but it was another second or two before his fingers listened and lessened the hold he had on her. Slowly, sensuously, her fingers slipped away. A trail of heat bolted up his arm hotter than venom from a snake bite.
Kincaid spoke again, but it sounded like he was in the bottom of a well. Sterling really didn’t give a damn what the man said. His eyes were locked on the woman walking away. Her hips swayed with each step, making the lilac colored dress float this way and that, and right above her trim waistline the bottom tips of her long hair flip-flopped. The vision was hypnotic. If his knees hadn’t been locked, they would have collapsed, and sent him sprawling to the ground.
I posted a day early since we're leaving town in the morning, I hope that didn't disrupt anyone's schedule! I also hope you all have a wonderful Independence Day!