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A Bespectacled Bluestocking, A Clueless Rake and a mad dash to Gretna Green

Miss Emily Goodnight – who cannot see a thing without her blasted spectacles – is raising the art of meddling to new heights. Why leave her future in the hands of fate when she’s perfectly capable of managing it herself?

The Earl of Blakely, London’s most unattainable bachelor, finds Miss Goodnight’s schemes nearly as intriguing as the curves hidden beneath her frumpy gowns. Secure in his independence, he's focussed on one thing only: evading this father's manipulating ways.

Hell’s Bell Indeed – What with all the cheating at parlor games, trysts in dark closets, and cases of mistaken identity, complications arise. Because fate has limits. And when it comes to love and the secrets of the past, there’s only so much twisting one English Miss can get away with…

Hell’s Bell is the third book in the Devil’s Debutantes Series but can also be read as a standalone novel. It has been nominated for Best Historical Short Novel as a finalist in RWA's Distinguished 2019 Rita © Awards.

Hell's Belle

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Release Date: September 17, 2018
Series: Devilish Debutantes 
Book Number: 3 in the series
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Marcus led her toward a long counter and pulled a few pieces of paper out of his jacket. The room smelled of smoke and hot metal and sweat. 

 

Emily couldn’t help but compare this with Cecily’s wedding or either of Sophia’s weddings. They had each taken place in a church, with flowers and a beautiful dress. Not to mention an eager groom. Instead of an organ playing, the ringing of the anvil echoed in her ears. She stared down at her empty hands. Not even a small bouquet of flowers.  The man who approached them had black streaks across his face and his hands were nearly black with coal. 

 

“You wish to be married then?” he asked her. 

 

She nodded. 

 

“You aren’t married to another?” 

 

She answered this question by shaking her head. And then an unsteady, “No.” 

 

“You’re old enough?” Again, a nod. 

 

“And you, my lord?” 

 

“The same,” Marcus answered. 

 

“Well, then. You’re married.” 

 

The blacksmith then examined Marcus’ paperwork, handed her a pen to sign her own name, and then returned to his work. 

 

“That’s it?” Emily glanced around as though something surely had been forgotten. “That was our wedding ceremony?” 

 

Marcus simply grinned and indicated they should leave. “Efficient, aren’t they?” 

 

She’d spent more time purchasing a pair of gloves.”