I can't wait! In the meantime, here is the blurb and a short excerpt...
A mysterious Templar relic,
A web of intrigue and lies,
A woman about to lose her heart...
Marie-Ange, the young widow of an English officer, accepts an inheritance in
only to find that everything in Beauregard is not as it seems. Why is the sinister Malleval so obsessed
with her family? And could her darling Christopher still be alive? Marie-Ange
finds herself trapped in a dangerous web of lies, intrigue and mystical
possession, and the only person to whom she can turn for help is Captain Hugo
Saintclair. Yet the enigmatic Hugo represents a danger of a different kind … France
‘Angel Heart’ is a lavish mix of romance, adventure and a hint of the supernatural, largely set in
Marie-Ange meets Capitaine Hugo Saintclair...
She pushed open the door to the drawing room and hurried inside. Splinter and Rusty ran under her feet, tripping her. Her cry of alarm died on her lips as two strong arms caught her. Surprised, she tilted her head up to look at the tall, dark-haired man holding her against his hard, wide chest. His intense blue eyes held her gaze and sent a shiver down her spine. One side of his weather-beaten face was barred by a long, ragged scar. The thin line of the mouth and the tightness in his jaw gave an impression of controlled anger. For a moment fear gathered in her chest. Then he smiled, a slow, confident smile, and he was transformed into the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.
The dogs barked at them furiously. Marie-Ange parted her lips to order them to stop but before she could speak Robert took a few steps forward, an angry scowl twisting his face, his fists clenched by his sides.
‘Let her go at once, sir,’ he warned, ‘or …’
‘Or what?’ The man arched his eyebrows, a mocking smile at the corner of his mouth, as if he dared Robert to come any closer. He shook his head and released her.
‘I will ask you to restrain your puppies, Madame. The three of them,’ he said as he looked down at her.
‘How dare you call me a puppy?’ Robert's face flushed a deep red, and he took another step forward.
Marie-Ange found her voice at last.
‘Rusty. Splinter. Lie down at once.’ She pointed to the rug in front of the fireplace. The dogs whimpered but obeyed. ‘Robert. That's enough. Monsieur was just helping me.’
Robert muttered an apology and crouched beside the dogs to stroke their wet, muddy coats.
‘You must be Capitaine Saintclair,’ she said, tilting her chin up to look at him again.
The papers had been full of sketches and reports about the famous French cuirassiers and she had no difficulty imagining Saintclair in a dark blue uniform, his chest covered with shiny metal plates and his helmet topped by a black horse mane, charging onto the battlefield. His current attire of black breeches and tall leather riding boots topped by a short brown coat did nothing to dispel the heroic image conjured in her mind.
He clicked his heels together and bowed his head.
‘At your service, Madame.’