sábado, 16 de fevereiro de 2013

Pré-Lançamento: Lisa Valdez - Primrose








Seu último lançamento em relação ao "Quarteto da Paixão", sua série para lá de hot, foi "Patience", em 2010. Agora, estamos mais do que felizes, em saber que no segundo semestre deste ano finalmente teremos o lançamento do 3° livro da série, intitulado "PRIMROSE".

Lembrando, Passion, Patience e Primrose são irmãs. Filhas de um vigário, e perderam a mãe quando a caçula ainda era bem pequena.
"Passion", lançado em 2005, traz-nos a história desta personagem, viúva e sem filhos, que vai passar uma temporada em Londres, acompanhando a Tia Mautt, e acaba por conhecer durante uma exposição, um homem misterioso, lindo e muito bom de cama. Assim se desenrola o romance entre Passion e o Conde de Langley, Mark Randolph Hawkmore.

Já em "Patience" temos a história da irmã do meio, que acaba por se envolver com o meio irmão do conde, após este ter sido o pivô de um escândalo. A relação de ambos também é bem quente e tumultuada, sendo ela bastante submissa, até que ela resolve tomar as rédeas da situação. E assim se dá o romance entre ela e Matthew Morgan Hawkmore.

Em "Primrose", a personagem está mais do que ávida em também querer achar o seu Príncipe Encantado, depois de ver as duas irmãs mais velhas tão felizes em seus casamentos. E de maneira inesperada ela encontra banhando-se num lago, próximo ao local onde ela fazia um piquenique, um homem forte, desconhecido e totalmente nu. A química entre eles é imediata, mas nenhum dos dois sabe nada um do outro. 





Quem seria Luke? Um Duque? Um Marquês? Alguém importante e de grande riqueza? Ou apenas um camponês banhando-se nas águas calmas de Lincolnshire?
Isso só saberemos após o lançamento do livro. Mas desde já você pode saborear o comecinho do livro, disponibilizado pela autora em seu site.

Abaixo, um pequeno trecho...


CHAPTER ONE - PRIMROSE
July 22, 1852 ~ The Lake District
He was naked.
Primrose Eleanora Dare froze in her footsteps, her hat slipping from her fingers with barely a sound.
The man wasn't more than fifteen paces away from her. He stood in three-quarter profile. A pool of mirror-like water lapped at his hips. His face, ruggedly handsome, was tipped up to one of the slim fingers of sunlight that reached through the trees. His eyes were closed. More splashes of light dappled his wet skin, highlighting the sculpted curve of his shoulder and the smooth plane of his belly.
Prim drew a halting breath. It was her dream brought to life-her own private fantasy, conjured and imagined every single time she made the walk from her home to the little lake behind. Only she wasn't at home, and this wasn't a dream.
His black hair, sheared very short, revealed the even shape of his head. A day or two's growth of beard shadowed his jaw. More black hair covered his broad chest, tapering and thinning to his navel and pelvis before thickening again and disappearing below the surface of the water.
A warm tingle shimmered beneath her skin. Propriety dictated that she turn away-retreat back down the long, overgrown path she'd come-return to her aunt and cousin who were, no doubt, still happily lounging alongside the remains of their picnic lunch, debating matters of fashion and fabric.
But she couldn't turn away, because the moment she'd been anticipating for years was finally upon her. The man of her dreams, the man she was meant to spend the rest of her life with, stood before her. And she'd found him just as she'd always imagined she would-standing naked in a pool of quiet water. This was her dream, and the realization of it was so startling-the vision of him so breathtaking-that she just stared, filling in every tiny detail of the moment. The feel of the warm air, the verdant smell of green leaves and damp moss heated by the sun, the sweet soprano call of birds-and him.
Prim sighed softly.
Though his eyes were closed and his posture relaxed, a frown marked his brow and his mouth was set in a somber line. He was a man with cares-cares that prevented his peace even in this peaceful place.
Yet, he was so beautiful.
Not Adonis. Zeus.
Not a lean-waisted youth-but a man, fully formed and in his prime. A man with breadth of shoulder and chest. A man with strength and power in his torso and hip. A man-
His eyes opened.
Her heart fluttered, and her fingers twitched against her skirts.
He tipped his head to the side as if to stretch his neck. Then, rotating his right arm at the shoulder, he began to turn toward her.
She held her breath.
But, just then, he winced and briefly closed his eyes as he turned past her. When he opened his eyes again, she was looking at his profile. Seemingly absorbed in thought, he took two steps toward the embankment. The curve of his buttock came out of the water. He took another step and more of him was revealed. Then, suddenly, he stilled.
Prim didn't move.
But in the next moment, he whirled, pinning her with his gaze.
She blinked and, yet again, it occurred to her that she ought to turn and run away. But she couldn't turn from her own destiny. Besides, a dreamy immobility had suffused her and she was captivated by his stare, which had quickly shifted from angry, to surprised, to...
...entranced?
Was he as enthralled as she? Did he wonder if she were real?
As they looked at each other across the small bit of water and grassy shore, Prim saw something else in his gaze.
Hunger.
His lips parted and he took a step toward her as his gaze, hot and intense, moved over her.
Her heart skipped and her breathing grew shallow, for he had stepped far enough out of the water for her to see the proof of his desire rising strong from the black curls at his groin. Despite the fact that her cheeks felt on fire, Prim couldn't help staring, for his phallus was unlike any she'd ever seen-unlike Wilson, her butler, who enjoyed his daily fellatio from Mary, the upstairs maid. Unlike Jeremy Snap, the potter's son, who never failed to devise some way to reveal his prick to her every Sunday at church. And unlike her friend, Jack Gordon, who she'd once caught masturbating in the woods alongside her lake. This man's cock had a dense, meaty appearance, and it was crowned with an exceedingly large and bloated head that seemed to have overflowed from its thick, upward curving shaft. Below, his sac hung full and heavy looking.
Her cunny clenched and she felt a sudden moisture between her thighs. The fleshiness of him excited her. Trembling, she wet her lips and lifted her eyes back to his. He excited her-in a way that made her gut quiver and her breasts ache.
The silence stretched out between them. Energy hung suspended in the air, as if waiting for some decision to be reached.
Finally, his body inclined slightly toward her and he took a step.
Then another.
And another.
Prim's heart beat faster.
The water whispered gently as he moved through it, unveiling strong thighs, sculpted knees and well-formed calves. She swallowed when his feet stepped onto the embankment, the entirety of his tall, god-like form revealed. Desire coursed through her, as if some floodgate had been released. Then he moved through scattered patches of sunlight to come stand directly before her, only the breadth of her skirts keeping them apart.
Her heart racing, she stared directly at his chest. Water droplets clung to some of the straight black hairs that lay smooth over his skin. The steady rise and fall of his breathing highlighted her own rapid and uneven respiration. God, his proximity was like a magnet, pulling at her. Not from without, but from within. As if the very blood in her veins were drawn to him.
Then, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand until one finger touched beneath her chin. The gentle contact sent a spark tumbling straight to her womb. Her eyelids fluttered. But as he tilted up her face, she kept her eyes open and followed the strong column of his throat to his whiskered jaw and cleft chin, to his sensual, unsmiling mouth, to his slightly crooked nose, and then...oh, God, such beautiful eyes. Eyes that looked like leaves on the forest floor-green and brown punctuated with bright, leaf-like patches of gold. Autumn eyes, framed by black lashes and brows.
Eyes that looked at her with such desperate yearning-yearning and something else.
Sorrow?
Prim's heart tightened. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd brought her hand to his cheek, feeling the firm plane beneath its half-shadow of whiskers. She touched the smooth cheekbone revealed above.
His eyes darkened and his frown deepened.
But when she started to withdraw her hand, he clasped it with both of his and pressed it back against his cheek. She glimpsed an aching vulnerability in his eyes before he closed them.
In that brief moment, her heart hurt for him. What pained him so?
Her breath caught as he turned his face into her palm and slowly lifted the inside of her wrist to his nose. His nostrils flared. When his lashes lifted the vulnerability had been replaced with a hot and sensual intensity.
All at once, he closed what small space remained between them and took her face in his hands. Grasping his wrists, she sucked in her breath. At the sound, his eyes dropped to her mouth. He brushed his thumbs over her lips, tracing them and pressing them gently. His eyes moved slowly and hungrily over her features as he stroked her temple and brow with his fingers
.
Everywhere he touched she tingled.
Prim slipped her grasp to his forearms. She'd never been regarded so avidly-as though he were committing every detail of her to his memory, both with sight and touch. But then, she was engraving him into her mind as well. She noted the tiny lines that radiated from the outer corners of his eyes, slightly paler than the rest of his tanned face, as if he spent his days squinting in the sun. She noted the slight peak of his hairline, and the way his black hair, so short and straight, grew forward on his head. And then there was the smell of him-sandalwood, sunshine, and the faintest hint of horses, all evaporating from his moist skin.
His eyes were fixed on hers now, looking for something.
But what?
She didn't look away or drop her gaze. She just stared back at him. Slowly, he began to lower his head to hers. She trembled with anticipation. But then he paused-just above her mouth. She could feel the touch of his breath. Her clitoris throbbed eagerly. Kiss me. God, kiss me!
But he didn't move, so she stretched onto her toes.
The moment her lips touched his, he moaned low and deep, the sound strumming her senses. And then he was pressing down upon her, his lips opening over hers, his tongue thrusting. He tasted of fennel, sweet and fresh.
Prim gasped into his mouth as his arms came around her and pulled her tight. Melting heat bubbled up in her at the feel of his hard chest and strong embrace. He kissed her deeper and deeper-more deeply than she'd ever been kissed before. Her head reeled. Clasping him tightly, she gave him kiss for luscious kiss. For, Lord, these were the kisses she'd always dreamed of-the kisses she'd imagined as she'd laid her hands upon herself in the dark hours of the night.
Only they were more...so much more. For he was pressing them upon her, and he was warm and real in her arms.
* * *

Um comentário:

  1. Olha, se eu encontrasse um honem desse porte que tu colocou no post se banhando, eu lá ia querer saber se ele é conde, padre, juiz de futebol ou açougueiro... Eu caia de boca (literalmente).

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