Book Title: Sweet Bea
Author: Sarah Hegger
Genre: Historical Romance (Medieval)
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
In a family of remarkable people, ordinary Beatrice strives to prove herself worthy. When her family is threatened with losing everything, she rushes to London to save them. Unfortunately, she chooses as her savior the very man who will see her family brought low.
Garrett has sworn vengeance on Sir Arthur of Anglesea for destroying his life when he was a boy and forcing his mother into prostitution for them to survive. He has chosen as his instrument Sir Arthur’s youngest daughter, Beatrice.
Can Beatrice’s goodness teach Garrett that love, not vengeance, is the greatest reward of all?
Time to be wooed. Wooed with honeyed words and sweeter touches. Delightful tingles spread to Beatrice’s fingertips, rushed back again, and pooled in her stomach.
Spring filled the air with scents of new grass and wildflowers. The sun beamed from a cloudless arc of blue above her. Birdsong serenaded her, as cornflowers merrily bobbed beside the path. Even the insects buzzed encouragement. Only one thing was missing.
She dare not tarry much longer. Someone from the keep would soon come looking for her. Beatrice shifted her basket to the other arm and investigated a patch of what might be vervain. From the keep, anyone would see her picking wildflowers. Just as she intended.
A footpath disappeared between the dense green beech thickets. It crossed a small stream before meandering through the trees and down to the village below. Was he still down in the village? She tried to picture what he’d be doing. Working at the forge, perhaps?
She gave up on the plant and straightened. She wouldn’t know vervain from, well, anything. Opposite the village, a path shot straight as an arrow through the meadow toward the castle. For certain, Garrett wouldn’t come from that direction. Perhaps he wasn’t coming at all. He’d made her no promises. There was no understanding between them. But, she dearly hoped all the same.
Hoping, however, didn’t make him appear.
The sun blazed down harsh on her face and she’d freckle.
“Wish, wish, planted a feather and wished a bird would grow.” Nurse’s voice
sang in her head. It was nonsense, pure and simple. Nonsense, like lingering alone on a path, pretending to pick wildflowers, whilst waiting for a man she barely knew to appear. A man with dark and mysterious eyes that whispered of secret places and forbidden pleasures. She was a goose. When she pictured the scene in her mind, it went thus. A beautiful maiden, garbed in her finest blue samite, engrossed in the gentle occupation of picking flowers by the roadside. The sun gleamed off her flaxen hair and brought roses to her alabaster cheek. Her slender form, bent like a reed to her feminine labors…
Roses be damned, she was sweating beneath her silk. It would leave stains on the fabric. She’d never hear the end of it from Nurse.
A soft whistle jolted her.
Her heart leapt.
There he stood, by the thicket.
Born British and raised in South Africa, Sarah Hegger suffers from an incurable case of wanderlust. Her match? A hot Canadian engineer, whose marriage proposal she accepted six short weeks after they first met. Together they’ve made homes in seven different cities across three different continents (and back again once or twice). If only it made her multilingual, but the best she can manage is idiosyncratic English, fluent Afrikaans, conversant Russian, pigeon Portuguese, even worse Zulu and enough French to get herself into trouble.
Mimicking her globe trotting adventures, Sarah’s career path began as a gainfully employed actress, drifted into public relations, settled a moment in advertising, and eventually took root in the fertile soil of her first love, writing. She also moonlights as a wife and mother.
She currently lives in Salt Lake City with her teenage daughters, two Golden Retrievers and aforementioned husband. Part footloose buccaneer, part quixotic observer of life, Sarah’s restless heart is most content when reading or writing books.
Sarah is the recipient of the 2015 EPIC Award for Historical Romance.
The silent communication in her eyes, the stillness of her body told me she knew I
Her hand cupped the nape of my neck. “It’s okay, I’m here—I’m here,” she whispered
as she kissed each tear on my cheek.
She slanted her mouth to capture mine and kissed me slowly as her hand curled around
my body, pulling me against hers. I drew a breath and held it as her lips
caressed my neck.
I was falling.
In love with her.
A chill swept across me as the warmth of her body left mine and she sat up,
sliding off the t-shirt I had given her to wear to bed, then slid on top of me.
Her deft fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my boxers, light kisses
raining from her lips against my skin as she moved down my body, sliding my
boxers off and throwing them to the side. She reached to the nightstand to grab
a condom, when my hand stopped hers. I wanted to feel all of her—bare.
Her eyes blinked hard as I flipped her over and slid on top of her.
As our sleek bodies moved feverishly against each other, I held her tight, wanting
to remember the smell of her hair, the touch of her skin, the taste of her
lips. This was where I wanted to be, this was where I belonged, buried inside
As we found our release together, her body fell limp against mine and I wrapped my
arms around her, never wanting to let her go. I raised my head to look down at
her and could see tears forming in her eyes and I knew for that moment, she was
completely mine and I was hers. And I knew I was ruined, I would never feel the
same way about another woman as I felt about Violet. I kissed her softly
on the lips.
His hand slid to the curve of my back and he pulled me into a deep embrace. My eyes met his and they gleamed with a
softness and gentleness that took my breath away. He smiled as he slid his
finger down my cheek, across my chin, before slipping back into a kiss. I
didn’t know if it was the way his lips softly touched mine, or if it was the
loving way he had looked into my eyes, but everything about Chain at that
moment captured my heart.
He placed feather kisses across my collarbone, the curve of my neck, my jaw, and
then claimed my lips. The kiss was soft, slow and lingering. As our lips parted
our tongues met in sync. I held him close, wanting to remember his strong shoulders,
the touch of his skin to mine. His hand caressed the inside of my thigh and I
moaned, then he curled me close to him and kissed me with a passion that made
my heart skip a beat.
As our bodies slowly moved against each other, I felt something reaching deep
inside of me, gripping at my heart, overwhelming my emotions, causing tears to
stream uncontrollably from my eyes. Chain lifted his head, staring into my
eyes, and I saw he was mirroring the same feelings as I.
As he circled his hips slowly, we found our release together and I exhaled
sharply. That familiar feeling filled me, that stabbing, aching feeling.
It surrounded me.
I turned away from Chain, hugging my pillow, my mind drifting off into a pit of
despair. As much as I tried to fight it, to run from it, there was no denying
that I was falling hard for Chain Alexander and there was no way of escaping.
relieve the scattered thoughts that stream through my mind, constantly. My
biggest downfall is that I am a huge procrastinator, which makes my life at