Liz Gordon gets separated from her friends on the trails of The Haunted Grounds on Halloween. When she encounters a gorgeous, compelling man dressed in eighteenth century garb, it leads to one of the most surreal moments of her life. She reacts by slamming herself through the barrier that separates her from the stranger, crossing over into 1783 and the life of Major Wesley Hale.

Wes is a man who is haunted by his past, and restrained by eighteenth century manners and customs.

Will Liz be able to get back to her own time? Does she want to? Or will the dashing major convince her to stay?

Publisher’s Note: This steamy time travel romance takes us back to an era where power, romance, and trouble behind the scenes all combine to keep the reader guessing.

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He sat facing her. He reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Pressing it to his cheek and avoiding her gaze, he said, “I wish,” and then he looked into her eyes with such intensity, her breath caught. “I could claim you for my own. Now. Tonight. And for all time.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and her heart soared.

He watched her searchingly. “What would you say if you were allowed to be candid with no repercussions?”


He looked like he’d stopped breathing.

“Yes, you can. You can claim me for your own.” He released a pent-up breath as if shocked, but she’d committed herself now. “I’ve wanted that from the first moment I saw you.”

Unable to hold back, he took her into his arms and kissed her. She met him halfway. Wrapping her hands around his back and pressing herself to him, she kissed him back with a need and hunger she didn’t know was possible. It had been held back for so long. She moaned as his hand slipped over her shift and closed in on a jutting nipple.

“I thought I’d go mad from longing,” he breathed.

The words were music to her ears. She clutched him closer as he kissed her neck and shoulder and jawline. She lifted her mouth back to his and kissed him. She would show him what mad from longing felt like.

When he pulled back, it was to take off his shirt. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

She shook her head. Stopping was the last thing she wanted. She pulled off her shift and watched his gaze lower to her breasts. He stood and fumbled to get off the rest of his clothing. She noticed a scar on his shoulder and then her breath caught at the size of his cock. She’d never been with anyone that big. There was another scar on his right thigh.

He got on top of her, bracing himself on his arms, and kissed her again. Deeper, slower. She ran her fingers through his hair, overcome by the feelings and sensations surging within. He rose on his haunches to cup her breasts, to savor the look and feel of them, and then lowered his head to take one into his mouth. She sighed with pleasure as he sucked. He moved to the other breast and paid it homage. He began lowering his body over hers, his face hovering inches above except when he pressed soft, warm kisses to her skin. Heat mingling, taking his time, he reveled in what he was now to possess. When he reached her scar, she cringed. It was raised and ugly.

“What happened?” he asked as he traced the scar with his finger.

“I fell on something.” The feeling of his lips on her scar made her jump. “Don’t,” she begged, looking down at him. “I hate my scar.”

He met her gaze. “Do you know how many I have? Much worse than this.”

“That’s different.”

“Why is it different? It’s not. Scars are proof of what we’ve survived. We should think of them as unique to who we are and, therefore, beautiful.” He kissed her scar again. “I love this scar because it’s part of you. Part of who you are.”

Tears pricked at her eyes.

He moved back up to kiss her again. As their tongues intertwined, he wedged a knee between her legs and she happily spread them. She’d never wanted anything the way she wanted him inside her.

He turned his attention back to her breasts, appreciating the raised pink nipples. He licked and teased each before taking it into his mouth and sucking. It occurred to him that she’d been sent to give him life and he was happily claiming the gift. He sucked harder and she made a low sound in her throat and writhed against him. Feelings of triumph and power and control surged, making him feel more whole than he had in years, maybe ever.