Monday, April 10, 2017

Only a Mistress Will Do by Jenna Jaxon - Book Tour + Giveaway


ONLY A MISTRESS WILL DO 
by Jenna Jaxon
Pub date: 4/4/2017
Genre: Historical Romance


The man of her dreams . . . belongs to another woman.
Destitute and without friends, Violet Carlton is forced to seek employment at the House of Pleasure in London. She steels herself for her first customer and is shocked when the man rescues her instead of ravishing her. A grateful Violet cannot help but admire the handsome Viscount Trevor. But she must curb her desire for the dashing nobleman she can never have because he is already betrothed to another...

Tristan had gone to the House of Pleasure for a last bit of fun before he became a faithful married man. But when he recognizes the woman in his bed, he becomes determined to save her instead. Now, his heart wars with his head as he falls for the vulnerable courtesan. Unable to break his betrothal without a scandal, Tris resolves to find Violet proper employment or a husband of her own. Still, his arms ache for Violet, urging him to abandon propriety and sacrifice everything to be with the woman he loves...




Chapter 1

London, November 1761

Shivering in the brisk wind cutting straight through her thin gown, Violet Carlton trudged across the 
small dirt-packed backyard, littered with tufts of dead grass and scattered brown and red leaves. Teeth clenched to stop their chattering, she mounted the short three steps of the back stoop, straightened her shoulders, and rapped three times on the dull gray door of the silvery clapboard house. Beyond the 
weathered board fence of   the house next door a dog barked, but no one stirred. No prying eyes to 
witness her shame.

The door opened a crack, and a lad of about twelve stuck his head out. “What you doin’ ’ere this time 
o’ day?”
“I would like to speak with Madame Vestry, please.” Perhaps she should have waited until later in the morning. Such an establishment would obviously keep late hours. But the ache in her belly had forced 
her here as soon as the sun had risen.

“She’s still sleep. Come back later today.” He started to push the door closed but Violet rammed her 
boot between it and the jamb. The boy kept shoving, squeezing her foot until she winced in pain, 
but she gritted her teeth, put her shoulder to the door and pushed back. If she didn’t do this now, 
she wouldn’t have the courage, or the strength, to come back.

“I need to see her now.” She raised her voice, and threw her weight against the rough boards. Despite 
her small stature, she was stronger. He staggered back and she fell into a narrow back foyer with a row 
of coat hooks and the devastating yeasty smell of baking bread. Her mouth watered and her stomach 
rumbled. She hadn’t eaten for days.

Blond hair straggling from under a mobcap, a girl, maybe fourteen, rushed into the room. 
“What the hell’s going on in here Willie?” She wiped her hands on her apron, streaked with flour 
and grease. Warily, her gaze shifted from Willie to Violet. “Who are you?”

“I’ve come to see Madame Vestry.” Violet focused on the girl’s narrowed eyes.  “I need to talk to her, 
please.” Her heart gave a sickening lurch.

In one practiced glance, the girl took in her appearance, from what used to be her second-best hat 
to the rumpled and stained deep-purple dress to her scuffed black boots, and sniffed. “I see you do.”

The appraisal stung, but was probably fair. She’d come down fast in the months since her 
grandmother’s death. Her possessions long gone, her wardrobe—reduced to two dresses and a 
well-worn cloak—had been sold, leaving her with only the dress she stood up in. These clothes 
wouldn’t fetch a shilling in a secondhand shop now.

The servant girl nodded to Willie. “Close the door before we freeze to death, jingle-brains. Come on.” 
She led Violet out of the foyer. “I’ll ask if Madame will see you. But she won’t be happy being woke up 
this early, you can bet your dippers on that.”

The last thing she wanted was to antagonize her future employer. Still, she couldn’t risk waiting until 
later.
Taking a firm grip on herself, she followed the girl down a shadowy hallway until she motioned her 
into an equally dim reception room. “Wait here.” The girl turned on her heel and left.

Violet let out the breath she’d been holding. She hadn’t fainted yet, though her empty stomach had tied 
itself in knots. The pain meant she was alive and by God she intended to stay that way. She strode 
farther  into the room and perched on the red cushioned sofa. Let the woman arrive swiftly to get 
this over with.

Sitting rigidly, she stared at her hands clenched in her lap, then shook herself. She had better be stronger 
than this. Determined, she sat straighter. A classical-style painting in a large gilt frame across from her 
caught her interest. A naked woman lay on a chaise, her legs spread. Oh, good Lord. Her womanly parts 
were exposed and a swan lay with its beak pressed between her thighs.

Her face heated and she had to look somewhere else, anywhere else but at that painting. The fireplace 
on her right held two candlesticks, shaped like naked women. Wax had dripped onto the figures, 
drops hanging from the nipples. Was there nowhere in the room without a lewd image? Violet gripped 
the end of the sofa. The plush red carpet seemed safe to study. The smooth, polished wood under her 
fingers had been carved in an oval with folds in the middle. She traced the pattern absently, still unable 
to get the image of the painting out of her mind. The swan’s long neck lying at the apex of the woman’s 
open legs. Her forefinger stroked the wooden oval, so similar to the—



Jenna Jaxon is a multi-published author of historical and contemporary romance. She has been reading and writing historical romance since she was a teenager. A romantic herself, she has always loved a dark side to the genre, a twist, suspense, a surprise—so expect her to incorporate these elements into her work! She lives in Virginia with her family and a small menagerie of pets where she is currently working on the next House of Pleasure book, Only A Mistress Will Do, as well as a Regency series. When not reading or writing, she indulges her passion for the theatre, working with local theatres as a director. She often feels she is directing her characters on their own private stage when she writes. Jenna equates her writing to an addiction to chocolate—once she starts she just can’t stop!












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