Book & Author Details:
Lord and Master Trilogy
by Kait Jagger
Publication date: March 20th 2017
Genres: Erotica, Romance, Suspense
Synopsis:
You think you know Luna Gregory?
Maybe you see what her boss, the Marchioness of Lionsbridge, sees: the best PA she’s ever had, a 26-year-old fixer who makes problems disappear with four quiet words—‘Leave it with me.’ Or you see a remote, untouchable Ice Princess who the 500-year-old Arborage Estate’s heir presumptive longs to crush under his heel. Possibly, if you’re looking carefully, you see Luna as her friends see her: the quiet one, touched by childhood tragedy, who laughs at their jokes and has their backs no matter what.
But ultimately it takes charismatic, devastatingly attractive Swedish entrepreneur Stefan Lundgren, third in line to inherit the estate, to glimpse the intelligent, fiercely independent woman under Luna’s calm exterior. And what he sees he wants, this woman in ten thousand who is meant for him, body writhing beneath his in the dark of night, her inner self slowly revealing itself to him. Or so he believes.
But Luna has built an entire life predicated on concealment, on maintaining control and hiding dark things in drawers. It will take the entirety of the Lord and Master trilogy, from the manicured gardens of Arborage, to the wilds of Shetland, to the streets of Stockholm, for her to step out of the shadows in the face of a new threat to Arborage.
You think you know Luna? You don’t.
The Lord and Master trilogy:
Lord and Master
Her Master’s Servant
The Marchioness
Purchase:
Excerpt:
Coast was located in an old cinema that had been transformed into a black, purple-lit paradise inside, with a glittering bar along the full length of one wall and a large dance floor that was already heaving with dancers, both homo- and heterosexual, by the time Luna arrived at just past 11pm. A place where hot young things went to see and be seen by other hot young things.
Two sips into her second Tanqueray and tonic in the upstairs VIP area, Luna spotted a group of acquaintances down on the dance floor, gyrating to Pharrell Williams. Squaring her shoulders, she finished her drink and headed down the stairs, relieved and delighted to be greeted like she’d never been away. And it was perfect, really, dancing in a circle of hot young men, bass from the club speakers vibrating in her ears.
Two hours later, after much dancing and two more gin and tonics, it began to feel slightly less perfect. As time crept on, the atmosphere on the dance floor began to change, her dance partners scanning the room, their eyes drawn to the new and hard, their thoughts on where the night would end, and with whom. Luna was reminded of why nightlife on SoBe, and particularly as a resident fag hag, had begun to grate – three hours of preparation, two hours on the dance floor and suddenly you were surplus to requirements.
Not that it particularly mattered. The meter was running, as Nancy would say, on how much longer Luna cared to stay out anyway, being not much more of an extrovert here in Miami than she was at Arborage. She hadn’t chatted to a single heterosexual man all night and hadn’t felt the need to.
Then the opening guitar lines from her all-time favourite Arctic Monkeys song started to play. A slow song for them, about a damned, doomed love. Luna was standing alone at the bar at this point, and she wished, how she wished, that someone was there to dance with her. Jem, or Nancy, or Kayla, so they could have sung the words, which they all knew by heart, along with Alex Turner. Or a man, any man. She thought of her university boyfriend, who would have known immediately that she had to dance to this one. She thought of the professor she’d clandestinely dated for two months who had never made her come – she’d have danced with him, even.
And then, as Alex Turner began to sing about the colour in his lover’s cheeks, Luna thought of Stefan. And wished he was with her, just for this one song. It was a stupid, stupid wish, four gin and tonics in, but she wished it all the same and knew a moment’s despair that she couldn’t repel him from her mind. She wished he was there.
Luna placed her empty glass on the bar, and looked for an exit line between the bar and the crowded dance floor.
At first she thought it was some kind of alchemy, an apparition she’d magicked up, the tall blond man moving towards her across the darkened, purple-lit room. She mistrusted her eyes, of course she did. No, she told herself, heart thumping in her chest, this man – boy, more like – dressed in a short-sleeved, close-fitting white shirt, his hair looking a blond, sexy mess, was too young to be him, some college kid who’d doubtless gotten in using fake ID. It was her mind playing tricks on her, and the fact that he seemed to be looking straight at her like he couldn’t quite trust his own eyes, that was a trick of the light. The boy came to stand in front of her, and she saw his lips say, ‘Luna,’ saw his eyes travel down her neck to the bare slice of skin trailing to her navel.
Book 1 in this Trilogy will be free from March 20-24:
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