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THE LEGEND OF LYON REDMOND
Pennyroyal Green #11
Julie Anne Long
Releasing Sept 29th, 2015
An enduring legend
Rumor has it she broke Lyon Redmond’s heart. But while many a man has since wooed the dazzling Olivia Eversea, none has ever won her—which is why jaws drop when she suddenly accepts a viscount’s proposal. Now London waits with bated breath for the wedding of a decade…and wagers on the return of an heir.
An eternal love
It was instant and irresistible, forbidden...and unforgettable. And Lyon—now a driven, dangerous, infinitely devastating man—decides it’s time for a reckoning. As the day of her wedding races toward them, Lyon and Olivia will decide whether their love is a curse destined to tear their families part...or the stuff of which legends are made.
Then again, indirectly, Lord Lavay and his friend the Earl of Ardmay were indirectly the reason Lyon still walked the earth, and they had sacrificed a fortune in reward money to allow him to walk away. Though Lyon primarily had his sister, Violet, to thank for that. Men will do things for women they wouldn’t otherwise in their right minds do.
No one knew that better than Lyon.
“I’m glad,” he said, at last. Curtly. But he meant it. Lavay was a good man, and Lyon had learned that good men were too scarce, and the loss of one was a loss for all.
Lavay was also the only man in the world who knew where to find Lyon Redmond right now. And one of the very few people in the world who knew him by his three identities: The real one. The assumed one.
And the one that could get him hanged.
Even if this message was a trap to lure him back to Sussex or into the Crown’s custody, it mattered little. Lyon had become a man who could elude or escape any trap, by any means necessary.
In all likelihood this message was Lavay’s way of discharging a debt of honor.
“Lord Lavay is a fine man, the finest I know, sir,” the footman maintained stoutly, into the silence. “He married his housekeeper. Mrs. Fountain.”
This was startling.
“Did he, now? Quite the epidemic of marriage in Sussex lately, isn’t there?”
Lyon said this so bitterly everyone blinked as if he’d flicked something caustic into their eyes.
He drew in a long breath.
“And where is Lord Lavay at this very moment, Ramsey?”
“I expect he’s still in Pennyroyal Green sir, a village in Sussex, where I left him. You see, given that he’s newly married and … well, he’s quite taken a shine to the place. Right nice town, it is,” he extemporized, brightening.
“Is it?” Lyon said with such flat and brutal irony that his crew swiveled toward him in surprise, eyes wide.
He was beginning to alarm them.
He was beginning to alarm himself.
Because for the first time in years time Lyon wasn’t certain what he wanted to do.
Damn Olivia Eversea, anyway.
She’d knocked his world off its axis from that first moment in the ballroom, when she’d turned to him and smiled, and …
Even now. Even now the memory of that smile could stop his breath.
Julie Anne Long originally set out to be a rock star when she grew up, and she has the guitars and the questionable wardrobe stuffed in the back of her closet t prove it. When playing to indifferent crowds at midnight in dank clubs lost its, ahem, charm, she realized she could incorporate all of the best things about being in a band—namely, drama, passion and men with unruly hair—into novels, while at the same time indulging her love of history and research. So she made the move from guitar to keyboard (the computer variety) and embarked on a considerably more civilized, if not much more peaceful, career as a novelist.
Julie lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with a fat orange cat. (Little known fact: they issue you a cat the minute you become a romance novelist.)