In a stunning finale to Madeline Hunter's "Seducer" series, The Sinner tells the riveting story of Dante, the gorgeous, decadent younger brother of Vergil from The Saint. From the Paperback edition.
Another devastatingly sexy Dueling Society member must face the sins of his past in order to win the heart of a strong-willed, incomparable woman in this post-Regency-era romance from Hunter (The Charmer, etc.). When notorious lover Dante Duclairc accidentally shoots lovely Fleur Monley in her "rear nether region" as she flees her stepfather's plans to control her fortune and future, Dante gives up his own plan to escape his outstanding debts in order to rescue Fleur. Her stepfather is only delayed, however, not defeated. In order to protect herself from him, Fleur offers Dante a proposal: In exchange for a "white marriage" (one without physical intimacy) and Dante's promise not to interfere with her finances, she'll pay off his debts. But even blackmailers, double-dealing and whispers of his new wife's strange behavior cannot quell Dante's determination to have Fleur accept him in her bed and in her heart. Packed with sensuality and foreboding undertones, this book boasts rich historical details and characters possessing unusual depth and vitality, traits that propel it beyond the standard historical romance fare. (Dec. 30) Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information. -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
March 08, 2004
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from The Sinner by Madeline Hunter
Utter ruin provokes soul-searching in even the least reflective of men.
Dante Duclairc was contemplating that unwelcome discovery when he heard the horse outside. He opened the cottage door to find one very annoyed physician standing in the moonlight at the threshold.
Morgan Wheeler peered severely over the top edge of his spectacles. "This had better be very serious, Duclairc. Your brother's land steward pulled me out of bed."
"It is very serious, and I am sorry that your sleep was interrupted."
"No one said you had come down to Laclere Park. Why haven't you called on me?"
"Only the steward knows I am here, so you must swear to keep this visit a secret. I should have sent for a surgeon, but you are the only medical man in the region I could trust to be discreet."
Morgan sighed heavily and stepped into the humble abode. "Why did you send for me?"
"There is a woman upstairs who needs your attention."
Morgan set down his bag and removed his frock coat. "She is alone here?"
"Except for me."
"Why does this woman require me?"
"The lady has been shot."
Morgan had been rolling up a sleeve. He stopped, arm outstretched and fingers engaged. "You have a lady visitor who has been shot?"
"Where was she shot? Excuse me, grazed?"
"In this cottage. Accidentally. We were playing a little game and--"
"I meant, where is the wound?"
"In the rear nether region of her trunk."
"Excuse me? Are you saying that you shot your lover in the buttock?"
"Yes. Come upstairs and--"
"One moment, my good friend. My dull life has feasted off the excitement of yours for years, but this is too much. You have secretly brought a woman, a lady, to a rustic cottage on your brother the viscount's estate, where you engaged in some orgiastic rite that resulted in her being shot in the buttock. Do I have the essential facts correct?"
"Her arm is hurt and she hit her head too."
"Not like you, Duclairc, getting rough like that. You surprise and disappoint me."
"I assure you that this was an accident. A little game gone awry."
"How? What? My imagination fails me. I try to picture it but . . . If I am going to debase myself by doing a surgeon's work, the price of my skill and silence is an explanation."
"As it happens, that is precisely what I can afford. Please come up now. The steward had some laudanum and we dosed her up so she is still out, and it would be best if you did this quickly."
"Details, Duclairc. I shall expect details."
As Dante led Wheeler up the stairs, he considered that details were exactly what his friend would never get. No one would. The woman awaiting Wheeler's attention had come to this cottage through bizarre circumstances. Dante knew in his gut that speaking of them to anyone would only cause him untimely trouble.
What had she been doing out there, dressed like a man and brandishing a pistol, on a night when the countryside was alive with a mob burning farming machines and a posse on the chase? Dante had taken his own gun to the highest hill of Laclere Park, in a nostalgic effort to protect the estate on his last night in England. When he had been surprised by a trespasser he had returned fire, only to discover to his horror that he had not shot a radical but a woman.
As it happened, not just any woman.