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Gina Conkle Books

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Norse Jewel

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“Hakan was a chieftain ready for battle. Fear, the haze of it like when the Danes had attacked her village, skittered across her skin. "Break the fast with me," she pleaded softly. He hooked a finger under her chin. "You've convinced me to do many things I've not done before." He looked at the trees where her loom sat idle. "Like spend a summer day in the shade, and now you want me to keep my ship, my men, waiting. What will you have me do next?"He paused as if drinking in the sight of her. He hadn't shaved, and his jaw bore several days' growth. She itched to know the feel of those blonde whiskers. Her lips parted with bold, unspoken invitation.”

Viking Romance
Book:Norse Jewel
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“I'll eat whatever you put in front of me." He grinned uneasily, eyeing the egg. "You'll not toss that at my head, will you?" "This?" Helena held the light brown egg between thumb and forefinger. "Why would I do that?" Sven glanced from Hakan to Helena. She cupped the egg and let it roll across her palm. "Helena." Hakan's voice threaded with warning. "Twould please me greatly to have my eggs cooked this morn." She gave the egg a small toss and it plopped into her palm intact. "As you wish.”

Viking Romance
Book:Norse Jewel
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“Danes, Norse... all were from the northlands in the eyes of her people. To their fright-frozen minds, Hakan was another of the dreaded Norse, sweeping over the land like a plague and leaving little in the wake. But summer had yielded a different crop for her: not all Norse were vicious raiders out for death and plunder. Hakan braced one foot on a rock. "And now the Norse wolf brings you safely home."... "Aye," she said.”

Viking Romance
Book:Norse Jewel
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“The warm wool blanket dropped to the floor, and Lydia set her hand in the earl’s firm grip. She stuck her foot outside, but awareness wasn’t with her. That cavernous black doorway claimed her attention, and therein was her problem. Trouble came in mere seconds, as it usually did for her. The step was slick. She slipped. The sole of her leather shoe slid off the step’s edge. “Oww!” she yelped as her foot banged the graveled drive hard. Legs buckling, down she went, like a graceless sack of flour. What’s worse, she slammed into the earl, her shoulder punching his midsection. “Ooomph!” Lord Sanford grunted but moved quickly to save her from falling all the way to the ground. Her face mashed against leather and linen. Strong hands held her arms. At least she didn’t knock the earl down. Grabbing for purchase, her fingers touched warm wool…buttons…skin. Her face pressed into fabric, she murmured, “I’m so very sorry.” Lydia tried to right herself, but relief turned to horror: she was a mortified eye level with the pewter buttons of Lord Sanford’s breeches. Stalwart English mist snapped sense into her. That and seeing his placket bunched low in her fist. Her fingers grazed smooth flesh. Another, more interesting sliver of Lord Sanford’s skin was exposed: pale, intimate skin just below his navel. Lydia yanked back her hand, and a pewter button went flying. “Oh no!” she cried as humiliating heat flared across her face and neck. “Miss Montgomery? Are you injured?” Lord Sanford asked above the wind, slowly lifting her up. He sounded unperturbed at having a woman’s hand on the front of his breeches. hands on the front of his breeches.”

Georgian Romance
Book:Meet the Earl at Midnight
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“Here's the "explorer" paragraph: Lydia swayed into him, her back arching, but his hands caught her. His warm hand splayed wide against her upper back. The other ventured lower, massaging circles, lower, lower. Edwards’s hands, like his kisses, belonged to an explorer, not a ruthless conqueror. Testing and checking, his firm but gentle caresses enticed her into his web of curiosity and question. His kisses, his touch were not the rehearsed moves of a long-practiced rake, but genuine affection and sensuality braided into an explosive mix that promised to incinerate them on the spot if they didn’t stop.”

Georgian Romance
Book:Meet the Earl at Midnight
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“He gripped her hips, and standing up, slowly pushed volumes of silk with him. Blue fabric puffed and pillowed between them. His hand traced a slow caress the length of her from knee to hip. Edward’s nostrils flared, as did his eyes, when his roving hand slipped behind her, grappling bare skin. She quivered from tantalizing male touch exploring forbidden flesh. Lydia read Edward’s face, the flush of tanned skin and mouth unable to close, as knowledge seeped into his brain: she’d said her vows, eaten dinner with the utmost decorum, and chattered politely with all and sundry in this secret state of undress. Edward groaned and jammed her body hard against his. “You’re naked under your skirt.”

Georgian Romance
Book:Meet the Earl at Midnight
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“How could he forget her instructions days ago to deposit all her art supplies in the ballroom? Probably because that brain-muddling embrace outside the gallery scrambled clear thinking. He recalled the distraction of burying his face in the softness of her hair. Her presence seeped into him the same way her simple lemongrass scent invaded his senses. Right now, breathing heavily from exertion, he'd swear her scent surrounded him.”

Georgian Romance
Book:Meet the Earl at Midnight
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