Excerpt & Giveaway: Never Judge a Lady By Her Cover by Sarah MacLean

Never Judge a Lady by Her CoverThe Rules of Scoundrels # 4
By: Sarah MacLean
Releasing November 25th, 2014
Avon Romance

Blurb
By day, she is Lady Georgiana, sister to a duke, ruined before her first season in the worst kind of scandal. But the truth is far more shocking-in London’s darkest corners, she is Chase, the mysterious, unknown founder of the city’s most legendary gaming hell. For years, her double identity has gone undiscovered...until now.

Brilliant, driven, handsome-as-sin Duncan West is intrigued by the beautiful, ruined woman who is somehow connected to a world of darkness and sin. He knows she is more than she seems and he vows to uncover all of Georgiana’s secrets, laying bare her past, threatening her present, and risking all she holds dear...including her heart.



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Excerpt
Lady Georgiana Pearson—who barely claimed the honorific and barely deserved the descriptor—was thrilled with her ruination, and had been for years. It had, after all, made her rich and powerful, the owner of The Fallen Angel, London’s most scandalous and most popular gaming hell, and the most feared person in Britain … the mysterious “gentleman” known only as Chase.
It was of little consequence that she was, in fact, female.
So, yes, Georgiana believed that the heavens had smiled upon her that day a decade prior when her fate had been forged. Her exile from Society, for better or worse, meant a dearth of invitations to balls, teas, picnics, and assorted events, which, in turn, eliminated the necessity for battalions of chaperones, inane conversation over tepid lemonade, and pretending to show interest in the holy trinity of aristocratic female conversation—mindless gossip, modern fashion, and marriageable gentlemen.
She had little interest in gossip, as it was rarely the truth and never the whole truth. She preferred secrets, offered by powerful men who had scandal to trade.
Similarly, she had little interest in fashion. Skirts were too often taken as a mark of feminine weakness, relegating ladies to doing little but smooth them and less refined females to doing little but lift them. When on the floor of her gaming hell, she hid in plain sight inside the brightly colored silks that costumed London’s most skilled prostitutes, but in all other places, she preferred the freedom of trousers.
And she had no interest in gentlemen, caring not a bit if they were handsome, clever, or titled as long as they had money to lose. For years, she had laughed at the eligible gentlemen who had been marked for marriage by the women of London, their names listed in the betting book at The Fallen Angel—their future wives speculated upon, their wedding dates predicted, their progeny forecasted. She’d watched London’s bachelors from the owners’ suite at her casino—each more rich, handsome, and well-bred than the last—as they were felled, shackled, and married.
And she’d thanked her maker that she hadn’t been forced into the silly charade, forced to care, forced to marry.
No, Lady Georgiana Pearson, ruined at the tender age of sixteen—now a decade-old warning for all jewels of the ton who had followed her—had learned her lesson about men early, and blessedly escaped any expectation of the parson’s noose.
Until now.



Author Info
Sarah MacLean grew up in Rhode Island, obsessed with historical romance and bemoaning the fact that she was born far too late for her own season. Her love of all things historical helped to earn her degrees from Smith College and Harvard University before she finally set pen to paper and wrote her first book.

Sarah now lives in New York City with her husband, baby daughter, their dog, and a ridiculously large collection of romance novels. She loves to hear from readers. Please visit her at
www.macleanspace.com


Author Links



Comments

  1. This was a very good read. I need to read the first books now. Glad I tried it!

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  2. Rule for Dealing with Scoundrels - keep your eyes & ears open and believe your instincts.

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  3. Trust your intuition - it's more reliable than anything a man says. ;-)

    ReplyDelete

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