The Earl Claims His Comfort: Book 2 of the Twins Trilogy by Regina Jeffers is a Historical Fiction/Romance Event pick #regency #historicalromance #literature #nnlbh
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  • N. N. Light
    • Mar 25
    • 6 min read

The Earl Claims His Comfort: Book 2 of the Twins Trilogy by Regina Jeffers is a Historical Fiction/Romance Event pick #regency #historicalromance #literature #nnlbh



Title: 

The Earl Claims His Comfort: Book 2 of the Twins Trilogy

 

Author:

Regina Jeffers

 

Genre:

women authors drama; trilogy; British historical literature; historical Regency fiction; Regency romance; romantic suspense; historical cozy mystery; fiction mystery cozy

 

Book Blurb:

 

Hurrying home to Tegen Castle from the Continent to assume guardianship of a child not his, but one who holds his countenance, Levison Davids, 7th Earl Remmington, is shot on the road and left to die. The incident has Remmington chasing after a man who remains one step ahead and who claims a distinct similarity—a man who wishes to replace Remmington as the rightful earl. Rem must solve the mystery of how Frederick Troutman’s life parallels his while protecting his title, the child, and the woman he loves.

 

Comfort Neville has escorted Deirdre Kavanaugh from Ireland to England, in hopes that the Earl of Remmington will prove a better guardian for the girl than did the child’s father. When she discovers the earl’s body upon road backing the castle, it is she who nurses him to health. As the daughter of a minor son of an Irish baron, Comfort is impossibly removed from the earl’s sphere, but the man claims her affections. She will do anything for him, including confronting his enemies. When she is kidnapped as part of a plot for revenge against the man, she must protect Rem’s life, while guarding her heart.

 

The Earl Claims His Comfort, Book 2 of the Twins’ Trilogy - 2016 Hot Prospects Award Finalist, Romantic Suspense

 

Excerpt:

 

“Wake up!” the voice demanded.

 

Hands caught the lapels of his jacket to tug him forward. Even so, it was several seconds before he ventured to open his lids. When he did, the light caused him to blink hard.

 

“Can you hear me?” the voice screeched.

 

“I’m not deaf, demme it,” he hissed as he cracked his eyelids open.

 

The face hovering above his took on a familiar form. Dark curls. A heart-shaped face. The image brought him comfort while it frightened him beyond reason, for he knew the figure was dead.

 

“So, it is true?” Rem struggled through a dry throat, swallowing hard against the unreality of the situation. “God prefers his angels to possess the innocence of children.”

 

“I am no angel,” the face assured him.

 

“You are ...” Rem stumbled over the familiar name.

 

“Deirdre.”

 

“Delia.”

 

They said in unison.

 

“What?”

 

Rem blinked hard to clear his vision, but the childlike image remained.

 

“Are you or are you not Delia Phillips?”

 

“Not,” the figure pronounced.

 

Yet before Rem could gather his thoughts, the image retreated to be replaced by another. Blue-green eyes. Golden-red wisps of hair flamed with the light behind it. Full lips. Creamy white skin touched with flecks of the sun’s kiss. The countenance before him was his idea of an angel.

 

“What occurred? Are you injured?”

 

The “angel” ran her hands over his body to search for wounds, but he held no thoughts of the woman’s charity. Her clean, slightly floral scent tempted him as nothing had in some two years. “Oh, my,” she said on a gasp as her fingers grazed his leg and came back bloody.

 

Rem knew he should warn her not to touch his wound, but the heat of her body draped over his danced through his veins.

 

“We must remove you to safety,” she said as her image returned to a point above him. The lady was more angelic looking than before for the sunlight set the fire dancing in her tresses, and Rem permitted himself the hint of a smile.

 

“I shall return to the manor and plead for assistance,” she said as she prepared to stand. 

 

Her words cleared the fog clinging to Rem’s mind. “No!” he snapped as he caught the stranger’s arm to stay her rise.

 

“You require a surgeon,” she reiterated.

 

Rem knew her to be correct, but his wound had been no accident. He did not know whom he might trust among those at Tegen Castle.

 

“Though I’ve recovered your horse, I cannot permit you to ride.”

 

“You found Draco?” he asked with an attempt to sit up.

 

“You cannot think to ride,” she insisted. “You’re too weak.”

 

“You are not my demme mother,” Rem accused.

 

She shoved hard against his frame, and although he knew the woman meant it as part of her chastisement, his mind returned to the pleasure of having her so draped across his body.

 

“First, you, sir, will not speak so freely before the child. If you continue to act without respect for Miss Deirdre’s tender nature, I shall leave your carcass here to rot.” The woman poked Rem’s chest with her finger to punctuate her threat, but all his faculties could claim was the floral-scented drape of her hair as she leaned over him. “Moreover, from the cut of your clothes, I assume you must be expected at Tegen Castle.”

 

“Is Lord Remmington at the castle?” Rem said suspiciously. Though he prayed it not so, perhaps she was involved in the attack upon his person.

 

“The earl is expected,” the woman repeated in earnestness.

 

“Despite your objection,” he said with the authority, “I mean to mount Draco and seek my own care giver.”

 

The woman studied Rem’s expression closely—too closely for his ease. “Very well,” she said at length. “Permit me to lead your stallion to the shade of the tree. Draco will be waiting for you there.”

 

With that, she strode away, catching the girl by the hand and tugging the child along behind her. In her anger, the female was spectacular. The sway of her hips as she sidestepped across the short expanse leading to the back road of his estate was a magnificent sight to behold.

 

He lifted his weight to a seated position and calculated how many steps it would take to reach the large elm.

 

“Twelve,” he grunted while rolling to his one good knee. Not placing weight on his left leg, he grabbed the spindle-like branches of a large shrub, pulling himself to a standing position. Blowing out a short breath, he took a tentative step forward, followed by a hobble step. His good leg remained numb from a lack of use, while his injured one shot pains through his body to lodge in his tightened jaw.

 

“Four,” Rem hissed as he repeated the maneuver, and his resolve took a firmer hold. However, the rocky path had a mind of its own, and it meant to bring him down. As if the land rose up to claim his footing, he stumbled to land face first in the mud.

 

“Hold the horse,” the woman instructed the child.

 

When he looked in her direction, she was scampering over the short distance to reach him. “Keep back,” Rem growled as he shoved himself upward. The woman came to a stumbling halt. “I require no assistance.”

 

Biting down on his stubborn will, Rem slowly repeated the process of standing—this time without the aid of the shrubbery. Yet, his earlier resolve had suffered a blow with his fall, and he swayed in place. His disorientation was enough to send the woman into action again. She rushed forward to brace Rem’s stance.

 

“Please permit me to assist you,” she pleaded.

 

“It is not necessary.”

 

“Allow the woman her due,” a very masculine voice called from behind where the child waited with Draco.

 

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Rem snapped as he took in the countenance of his former friend. “You’ve no demme business in York.”

 

Yet before the Marquess of Malvern could respond, the woman shoved hard against Rem’s chest, sending him backwards to land upon his posterior. “I warned you, sir, I would not tolerate your foul tongue!”

 

Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):

 

 

 

 

 

Audible (Virtual Voice Narration) https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CS965H3Z

 


What makes your featured book a must-read?

 

Personally, I am very fond of books in a series, for once I am invested in the characters, I am sore to lose them with the last few chapters. I always want to know what happens next. Such was true with this trilogy. While writing the first book, Angel Comes to the Devil’s Keep, when Levison Davids, the 7th Earl of Remmington, failed in winning Miss Angelica Lovelace’s hand, and the woman chose Rem’s best friend, Huntington McLaughlin, instead, I just could not permit the story to end there. I had left him so devastated. Strong and relatable characters can greatly enhance a reader's connection to the story. Readers, in general, are drawn to believable characters with depth, motivations, and distinct personalities. Therefore, I could not leave Lord Remmington with a broken heart and say “that’s all folks.” His lordship required his own story. In consequence, what began with the intention to write one novel, a trilogy was cast. Lady Chandler’s Sister finishes the threesome.

 

Giveaway –

 

Enter to win a $40 Amazon gift card:

 

 

Open Internationally.

 

Runs March 21 – April 2, 2024.

 

Winner will be drawn on April 3, 2024.

 


Author Biography:

 

Regina Jeffers writes books about corsets, rakes, daring heroines, dashing heroes and all aspects of the Georgian/Regency era. She is an award winning author of cozy mysteries, historical romantic suspense, and Austenesque vagaries. Jeffers has been a Smithsonian presenter and Martha Holden Jennings Scholar, as well as having her tales honored by, among others, the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense, the Frank Yerby Award for Fiction, the International Digital Awards, and the Chanticleer International Book Award.

 

Social Media Links:

 

Every Woman Dreams (Blog)  https://reginajeffers.wordpress.com

Always Austen (Group Blog) https://alwaysausten.com/

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