Surrender in Moonlight; Golden Fancy; Notorious Angel PDF
Preview Surrender in Moonlight; Golden Fancy; Notorious Angel
SURRENDER IN MOONLIGHT BEGINNING MID-POINT AUTHOR’S NOTE NOTORIOUS ANGEL PART 1 PART 2 AUTHOR’S NOTE GOLDEN FANCY PART 1 PART 2 AUTHOR’S NOTE ABOUT JENNIFER BLAKE This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system — except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews — without the written permission of publisher or author, except where permitted by law. Individual Book Cover Designs by LFD Designs For Authors. Boxed Set Cover Design by SM Reine. Surrender in Moonlight Copyright © 1984 and 2012 by Patricia Maxwell First Fawcett Trade Edition: May 1984 First Mass Market Edition: October 1988 First E-Reads Publication: 2000 First Steel Magnolia Press Publication: 2012 Notorious Angel Copyright © 1977 and 2012 by Patricia Maxwell First Fawcett Gold Medal Edition: July 1977 First Ballantine Books Edition: August 1983 Fourth Printing: November 1986 First E-Reads Publication: 1999 First Steel Magnolia Press Publication: 2012 Golden Fancy Copyright © 1980 and 2012 by Patricia Maxwell First Fawcett Gold Medal Edition: November 1980 First Ballantine Books Edition: January 1986 Third Printing: May 1987 First E-Reads Publication: 2003 First Steel Magnolia Press Publication: 2012 1 The quick tread of Lorna Forrester’s riding boots was muffled by the thick Kirman carpet runner as she moved along the wide hall. Without pausing in her stride, she slipped the loop that caught up the flowing fullness of the skirt of her blue-gray poplin habit over her left wrist, tucked her crop under her arm, and began to tug on the calfskin gloves. There was a mutinous set to the finely molded curves of her mouth, and in her gray eyes a look of grim determination. She would not rest before dinner, would not lie in genteel fatigue upon her bed with warm milk punch at her elbow and a maid in attendance. The passageway was dim with the failing light of late afternoon, a condition unimproved by the dark maroon brocade that hung on the walls or the peculiar green light of an April storm that threatened beyond the end windows. After the heavy meal at noon, the cool dampness and early twilight had driven everyone else to their bedchambers, or so it seemed. Lorna was not tired, not even after the long steamboat trip upriver the day before. In truth, she was too overwrought to rest. If she did not escape from Beau Repose and the people the great plantation house held, including her uncle and aunt, she might well succumbed to the urge to scream and throw things. That would not be conduct at all becoming to a happy bride-to-be. An inane giggling, high-pitched yet masculine, drifted on the still air. It came from an open doorway a few yards ahead of her. Lorna recognized the sound. A spasm of what might have been dismay or disgust crossed her pale face, but her footsteps did not falter. As she drew near the bedchamber from which came that grating laughter, a low moaning blended with it. Rich, female, the soft, panting moans took on a higher note. “Wait, Masts’ Frank, that hurts now! Don’t do that, Masts’ Frank, just be nice. Please, I — oh, don’t, don’t!” The import of the sounds, the words, did not immediately reach Lorna. It was only as she came even with the doorway that they took on meaning. In that instant, she glanced inside, and the breath was driven from her lungs in a startled gasp. She checked herself. On the rumpled surface of the four-poster bed within the room, a man and a woman strained and heaved in a tangle of white and black limbs. It was Franklin Bacon, the man she was to marry, with one of the housemaids. That he was hurting the girl, digging his fingers into her hips, and forcing her to take his hard, bestial thrusts, was immediately plain.
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