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New Release | Three Wicked Nights with a Notorious Earl #regency #historicalromance #newrelease

Title: Three Wicked Nights with a Notorious Earl

Author: Sandra Sookoo

Genre: Regency romance, historical romance

Publisher: New Independence Books

Book Blurb:

Can a marriage arranged in childhood survive the earl’s infamous reputation?

The Honorable Miss Evangeline Rigsby has been engaged from the age of five to a man about whom she has only heard improper tales. On her twenty-sixth birthday, she is sent to the wild Cornish coast to wed her reclusive betrothed, sight unseen, and with no choice in the matter, for he holds her father’s vowels and the mortgage to his townhouse in London. Beyond annoyed, she is more than ready for a challenge of thwarting the wicked earl at every turn.

Sebastian Hamilton, unrepentantly corrupted Earl of Reddingham, has been rejected from the London ton for a myriad of reasons. As duties and responsibilities press in, he’s compelled to put his life in order, and since he has been engaged from a young man of fifteen, it’s time to make the sacrifice. The one saving grace of being leg-shackled is introducing his innocent bride to forbidden carnal pleasures. Perhaps she might help him regain his rightful place in society and respectability.

Following a rather tempestuous nuptial ceremony, the earl sets out to initiate Evangeline into the world of scandal and sin. As each sensual night passes, confidences are exchanged that provide a closeness physical intimacy doesn’t. Shared emotions surprise them both, enhanced by mutual heat and attraction, but as an unexpected romance grows, fears creep in to stall their union. When a vicious squall blows in on the coast, they’ll need to decide that vulnerability and wanting love isn’t as horrid as they previously thought.

But will three wicked nights be enough…

Warning: this book is very high on the heat scale, so if that isn’t your thing, you might want to avoid reading.


“What else is the earl offering in addition to not calling in your debt?” Just how much was she worth to her parents?

Again, her father tugged on his cravat knot. “He has given us ten thousand pounds. Already deposited into my account with the Bank of London. That ought to do us nicely for quite some time and will go a long way into doing needed repairs to the manor house in the country.”

“Yes.” Her mother nodded as her head was connected to a string manipulated by a puppet master. “Apparently, Reddingham is as wealthy and rich as a Persian sultan, but no one can quite pinpoint how he has made his fortunes.”

“Then, by your measuring stick, if a man has coin, he must be respected regardless of the horrid rumors bandied about his name?” Truly, this was one of the worst days of her life.

Who cared that she aspired to be a baker or that she’d hoped to go to France to learn how to make delicate French pastries or chocolates? No one had thought to ask how she wished to spend the remainder of her life. None of it mattered, for this arrangement had been made when times were good, and everyone was happy, and her family was intact. There had even been speculation the arranged engagement had been done in jest or as a farce when the two fathers had been well into their cups.

It could have been broken at any time, but then her father had fallen to vices, and he had never been astute with his funds. No doubt the older earl had wanted leverage to use against her father if the need arose. She didn’t expect her father’s actions would change now that he’d been given ten thousand pounds for her immediate removal from London.

To where, exactly? If back to the country in Southampton, then she could merely flee to her father’s manor and remain there the rest of her life if need be. “Why must I leave London to begin with? What sort of man won’t come here to claim his bride?” Saying the word sent a chill of foreboding down her spine.

Surprisingly, her mother answered first. “It would seem Reddingham is a bit eccentric. He lives in a Gothic-style castle on the Cornish coast, and hasn’t left that property for years.” She shrugged. “There was some dark and horrid scandalbroth years ago, but I cannot remember what exactly caused him to flee.”

“Murder I believe,” her father said with a shifty-eyed glance at her mother. “But I’m certain all is well now.” He cleared his voice as he regarded her. “Regardless of all that nonsense, we don’t have a choice, poppet,” her father said with a bit of a whine in his voice. He glanced at the letter on the table. “Reddingham wishes it done as soon as possible, as per the letter from his man-of-affairs.”

She pointed her gaze to the ceiling. “Ah, stick your only daughter on a post coach and wish her well? As long as your pockets are lined?”

“Of course not,” he answered, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Reddingham is sending a private traveling coach for your use, or so it says in the letter.”

“Ah, so that makes it better?” That damned letter which had sent her world into chaos. “What else?” Could they tell her anything about her soon-to-be husband? For that matter, why was she even thinking about consenting to this ridiculous plan?

Her father’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “He intends to wed you as soon as you arrive in Cornwall. He will provide two witnesses but won’t have guests.”

“Why?” She frowned, for it was exceedingly odd. Was he disfigured or hideous? Was that why he’d never returned to London?

“I don’t believe Reddingham is in the habit of entertaining,” her mother explained in a low voice. “And most of the ton has already shunned him.”

“For alleged crimes that no one can seem to remember.” Again, not a question, which only made the whole thing more interesting and more annoying.

“There is this as well.” From the interior pocket of his jacket, her father produced another envelope. “For you.” When he handed it over, the word “Evangeline” was scrawled on the crisp ivory envelope in bold writing.

“Oh?” After breaking the seal, Evangeline removed the letter, unfolded it, and then skimmed over the same bold handwriting.

Dear Miss Rigsby.

I have been betrothed to you since I was fifteen and you five. Most of my adult life I put off marrying, but now responsibilities are pressing in, and with the damned war raging on, I have grown tired of things as they are, so I am finally adhering to that engagement.

Please come to Lionsgate Hall on the Cornish coast post haste. I will send a traveling coach for you in three weeks. We will marry on June 1st. It was my mother’s birthday. I would like to honor the day with our nuptial ceremony. Pack all of your belongings because we will not return to London in the foreseeable future. Bring a maid or traveling companion if you must, for once you are here, there are precious few people willing to talk to a man like me, and making friends will be a challenge once you are my countess.

I have no use for maidenly protestations or shrinking violets, so find your courage and your curiosity, Miss Rigsby. First and foremost, your duties will be in my bed for a variety of reasons, most of which are wicked, and I won’t apologize for those needs or appetites. It is the only way I have found to tolerate certain aspects of life, but that is neither here or there nor appropriate fodder for a letter.

Life is about to change exponentially for both of us. I rather think I don’t care—have ceased caring about many things long ago—but you might, and if you listen to the gossip bandied about my name, you can draw your own conclusions, but wed we will. I won’t budge from the matter.

Yours, Reddingham.

Though there were veiled clues sprinkled throughout the letter which only made him more mysterious, heat raged in her cheeks as she folded the missive and stuffed it back into the envelope. “He is quite arrogant, but at least he used ‘please’ when he asked that I travel to Cornwall.” What sort of life had he lived thus far, and why was he hiding in such an out of the way place? Though Lionsgate Hall had a pleasant, mysterious ring to it, she remained skeptical about needing to go there in the first place.

Then her ire rose once more. Why did men think they could just order a woman about without consequence or question? What about her own dreams and plans? First her father would trade her for money and now the earl who, from the sound of it, he intended to bed her and put a babe in her belly straight away.

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Author Biography:

Sandra Sookoo is a USA Today bestselling author who firmly believes every person deserves acceptance and a happy ending. That is why her characters are not in the usual style and oftentimes struggle with things out of the norm. She’s written for publication since 2008. Most days you can find her creating scandal and mischief in the Regency-era, serendipity and happenstance in the Victorian era, or historical romantic suspense complete with mystery and intrigue. Reading is a lot like eating chocolates—you can’t just have one book. Give her the chance with one book and you’ll be hooked.

When she’s not wearing out computer keyboards or mice, Sandra spends time with her real-life Prince Charming in Central Indiana where she also runs a gourmet cookie business and makes moments count with the man because the key to life is laughter. Inspired to storytelling by Walt Disney since the age of ten, when her soul gets bogged down and her imagination flags, a trip to Walt Disney World is in order. Nothing fills the well and fuels her dreams more than the land of eternal happy endings, hope and love stories.

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