Title: Visions of Pleasure (An Enduring Legacy Series)
Author: Clair Brett
Genre: Historical Romance
Bastion Niall Dalais Guaire, 4th Count of lugar de sueño, Spain has been plagued with visions since his youth. He is drawn to archaeology and antiquities because when he holds a bone and sees a horrible vision he doesn’t have to tell the person what is to come, he can only see what has been. Now that his brother the 3rd Count passes away, Bastion is left with a young nephew and no connection to in own history or his special gift.
The Honorable Aisling Lightowler needs a miracle. Her family’s reputation is being threatened by a local family with grave accusations about something that happened almost 100 years ago, with no living witnesses to help sort it out. She reads about Bastion’s great finds and doesn’t care what it takes she hounds him from across a continent until he relents and appears on her doorstep.
Bastion agrees to help Aisling because from the first letter he received from her, he has been having visions. Visions of them together and also a disturbing feeling that the secret to his own history lies close by. When he begins to dig deeper into the claims, he finds that saving the family’s reputation may not be as simple as digging up some bones. All the while trying to keep his attraction for the lovely Aisling at bay, he begins to realize is harder than stopping his visions.
Can he save a family’s reputation, clear a dead woman’s name, find where he belongs in his own family and convince the woman he loved before he left Spain that she wants to be connected to a broken, lonely man who just wants to belong?
Northwest Spain, 1813
My Dear Senor Guaire,
I have just finished reading your most recent reply to my letter and I have to say that I am very disappointed. The situation has gotten quite horrible. My sister Constance was stopped and openly questioned about the rumors of my family's deadly deeds. She did not know how to respond, and so had to just walk away from the awful, dreadful scene. I fear that if this goes on much longer, there will not need to be any actual evidence or proof of wrong doing, for our family name will be ruined for good. My father has taken to his library and will not allow any discussion of the allegations whatsoever. I am at my wits end. I respect your predicament and your responsibilities to your family and lands, but I do not know who else to turn to. This will mean ruin for myself and my sisters, it may well be too late for myself, but Constance and Maria should not have to suffer if I can do anything about it.
I beg of you to take pity on us and come post haste to aid us in proving my ancestors are not murderers or land thieves.
The Honorable Aisling Lightowler
Bastion threw the note atop a pile of papers strewn across the desk. Miguel his butler had been told no more letters from Miss Lightowler, and yet here one lies. “Miguel!”
A man didn't have to have visions to hear the desperation in the words, or to understand the import of her plea. Thanks to his gift however, Miss Lightowler sitting at a writing desk, penning each word with tears streaming down soft pink cheeks a clear image. No sobbing, or hiccupping for this one, no bigger than a sprite, if his vision held true, but she was tough.
Bastion ran his finger down the parchment as it laid staring up at him, feeling the raised bumps and twirls of the ink. His gut clenched, and in a second yanked into a vision. This one, however not of the beautiful English girl.
The vision swelled in waves around him, it tossed him like a toy boat in a bath hitting the floor retching with the motion and pain wracking his body.
A house with people grouped around came into view. A large crowd impeded a full view of the house. Bastion clenched his eyes shut, giving into the vision more. The scent of fire from the torches the people held filled the room, then something—fear so palpable you could smell it sharp and acidic, like the smell of strong coffee in his cup when brought to his lips. Someone in that house was scared, and not just one someone, many. The fear coursed through him, owned him, panic rising to his chest. these people were his, but how?
With a jerk, the vision shifted to a familiar one. Miss Lightowler stood facing him smiling, her long hair flowed around her like a cloud. She reached up and cupped his cheek with a tiny hand. White hot desire shot through his body. Oh, Lord, this spelled trouble. Never had a reaction to a woman come with such force, and they hadn’t even met. But from the first letter, the visions intensified becoming more explicit with each one. By traveling to England Bastion would be securing his bedding of Miss Lightowler. It was a truth deep set. A vision always ran the course.
“Miguel! Damn it, where are you?” Bastion bellowed managing to get onto his feet and stagger to the drink trolley and took several linen clothes to clean up the floor.
“Yes, Count?” Miguel strolled into the room and stopped seeing Bastion on the floor cleaning up after himself. “I can—”
“No need, it is done, and I am rather tired of having to remind you I do not want to be called count. The count was my brother, who chose to go and get himself killed.”
“Yes, senor,” Miguel amended.
“I thought I told you I wanted no more letters from Miss Lightowler forwarded to me.”
“Yes Senor, you did.”
“Why is it, when I am searching for the land papers from the solicitors do I find a salver of letters with that on top sitting on the desk?” Bastion asked pointing to the open letter splayed out.
“Because I put it there Senor.”
“You defied my wishes?”
“Yes, Senor,” Miguel answered no remorse shown in those intelligent eyes.
Bastion glared. His brother thought him a paragon and his nephew adored him as well. Niall had already lost so much when Louis got himself killed, Bastion would not take away another person in Niall’s life, not to mention Bastion was certain Miguel had been on staff for as long as the family owned the property.
“Where are the damned papers from the solicitor?” choosing to change the subject. The letter could be thrown out.
“I assumed you were finished with them yesterday when you signed them, so I put them away until the solicitor could pick them up.” Miguel answered.
"No, I just felt I should check them again, but if you say they are ready to go, I will take your word."
" I will set them over here at your table, so you can look at them at your leisure." The graying Spaniard plodded over and set them on the table knowing Bastion refused to acknowledge the desk of the Count. "When you are finished that, Coun– Senor Bastion, I would think there is nothing more for you today. I need to take some time to, ah, organize things. There is nothing pressing to be finished at this time."
Bastion barked with bitter laughter, "there is always something pressing to be done Miguel. Always."
Miguel’s subtle wince caught Bastion’s eye, "Yes, I suppose it would seem so."
If money were no object, where would you go for a Spring Break vacation and why?
I love traveling and seeing many places, so I am always up for a cruise. After the winter it would be lovely to said around the Caribbean on a ship.
What’s your favorite thing about Spring and why?
I love seeing the new flowers pop up day after day. I also love lilacs, so that is always nice to open a window and get a whiff of fresh, sweet lilacs after the cold winter.
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Ex-Dragon keeper and historical romance author of two published novels, Clair Brett lives in NH with her hard working husband. Her office staff during the day consists of Cinta, a black cat and the matriarch of the fur babies, Mojo, a yellow kitten who spends his day holding Clair down in her seat to get her word count in, a boxer/beagle mix named Willow, who sleeps next to her chair to make it hard to do an Oreo run without doing a pee run as well, and our newest member a black lab mix who is on alert duty when anything comes into the neighborhood. As official empty-nesters the fur babies get a little spoiled.
A former middle and high school English teacher, Clair has had a lifetime love affair with reading. Once she read Pride and Prejudice as an extra read in high school, she was hooked. Clair began pursuit of publication when she was a new mother in need of a hobby. Her oldest daughter and mama to the bearded dragon grand pet is off to serve in the Air National Guard as a medic and no longer in the nest, so you do the math. Clair is a firm believer that a reader finds a piece of who they are or learns something about the world with every book they read. She wants her readers to be empowered and to have a refreshed belief in the goodness of people and the power of love after reading her work.
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