The Book Boyfriend
By Jeanna Louise Skinner
Let us find solace in the quiet…"
Emmeline always dreamed of being an author, finding comfort in words and between the pages of her beloved romance novels, but a mental health diagnosis leaves her blocked and unable to write. Then she inherits a crumbling, second-hand bookshop from a mysterious old friend and Emmy discovers that magic is real and maybe her fantasies about the heroes in her favourite historical romances aren't so far-fetched after all.
A handsome stranger–wielding a sword as dangerous as his Tudor past–appears in Emmy's bookshop asking for help. Together they must race against time itself to lift the curse imprisoning him in an ancient book. But when growing threats to her safety are proved real and not another symptom of her illness, Emmy must learn to trust her own voice again. Can she find the words to save Jonathan and her shop before tragedy strikes on the fateful final page?
Romance-addict Emmy may be, but this damsel is about to kick distress into the Ever After.
Excerpt
Jonathan had lost count of the number of times he’d been in this position: disrobed in the presence of a beautiful young woman, but never had he met one so forthright, so tall and well built - in every sense of the term. Or so fascinating.
“Well?” Her dark eyes bored into his.
He opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure how to begin.
“My Lady, Emmeline. Forgive me again. Once more you find me unprepared. My name is Lord Jonathan Dalgliesh. Son of His Grace, Lord William Dalgliesh and First Earl of Devonshire.” He paused and the ticking from the grandfather clock filled the silence, matched by the thumping of his heart. Each tick, each beat, echoed in his ears with the portent of execution drums. This might be his only chance. He must not fail. “I am the man you have been reading about, the man in your book. Centuries gone by, a witch placed upon me a curse to exist as a character within the book, and thus, I have been waiting for someone to free me. I do not understand the magic completely, but I need your help, my good lady. Please, I beg you believe me.”
Emmeline withdrew her hand and visibly shrank away.
“Funny. How about you try the truth this time?” Her words dripped with scorn, but there was another edge to them. It was a few moments before he understood what. Fear. A gallery of faces quickly embroidered themselves upon the tapestry of his thoughts; mostly female, some male, yet the single unifying thread through them all was fear. He would never forget their expressions; the wild-eyed bewilderment as they or their family members were accused. The very thought that he could instill those same emotions in another even now, centuries later, was a source of never-ending shame which would haunt him to his grave. Lady Emmeline was afraid of him and that would simply not do.
It was imperative that she believe him, that she understood there was nothing to fear. Not for her at least. If only he could have kept the same care for himself. But he couldn’t afford to worry about his potential fate now and pushed the unwelcome darkness from his mind. Focusing on the immediate problem again, he attempted to diminish his stature, doing everything he could to make his six-foot frame appear less threatening. But the woman’s height bested his own by at least a clear inch and the dawning realisation of this unexpected and unusual occurrence jolted his thoughts sideways once more. How could this unworldly female be taller than him? He’d heard tales of giant warrior woman from far off lands, but he’d dismissed them as myth.
Perchance she was related to these women. Or perhaps the females of Emmeline’s time were all like this and Maggie was the outlier. Either way, the young woman’s exceptionally agreeable size and stature was as every bit disconcerting as the beauty of her face.
He had to shake himself to snap out of the reverie. She was staring at him, waiting for him to speak. All too easily had he allowed himself to be distracted by her looks and the irony of this realisation wasn’t lost on him. It was the reason, or at least one of them, that he found himself in this predicament - his fate in her hands -in the first place. Swallowing a sudden bitter wave of bile, he composed himself and tried again. “Please, I know this will not be easy for you to hear, but I must explain: Maggie assured me I would have your assistance.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Her mouth which had been open - presumably to chastise him further - snapped shut. She marched to the door, yanking so hard, it hit the wall behind and the glass in the panel trembled.
“I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing, but I want you out. Now!”
Jonathan sighed, holding up his palms in what he hoped was non-threatening fashion. It was folly, perhaps, to have expected differently, yet the growing realisation that he must so soon play his only remaining hand in order to gain her trust, punctured his nerve. He was prepared for the pain. The physical aspect of tearing his flesh and blood from reality and transforming back into his paper and ink self was never pleasant, but he would cope if it meant there was a chance. It was the possibility of what came after that he hadn’t been ready to face. He thought he would have more time. And now here he was, after hundreds of years of nothing but time, standing on the precipice of life itself, knowing that the clock had finally run out and he was about to dive off the edge into the unknown. If it wasn’t so hideous to consider the alternative it would almost be funny. Almost.
This was it. The most important game of tables he’d ever played, and he closed his eyes briefly, knowing his fate hung on this, his last throw of the dice. If she did not believe or refused to help, everything was lost.
Time was up, the game done.
The End.
He took a deep breath and dove headfirst into time and space.
“I implore you to understand. You have nothing to fear from me, my lady, but I understand your apprehension. Please do not be alarmed at what I am about to do.”
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Jeanna Louise Skinner
Jeanna Louise Skinner writes romance with a sprinkling of magic. The Book Boyfriend is her debut novel and she is currently working on a prequel. She has ADHD and CRPS, a rare neuro-inflammatory disorder, and she is passionate about writing about people underrepresented in Romance, especially those with disabilities and chronic health conditions. She’s also the co-creator of UKRomChat, a much-lauded, Romance-centric live Twitter chat. She lives in Devon with her husband, their two children and a cat who sounds like a goat.
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