Author Tricia Schneider

Monday, October 25, 2021

Read an #Excerpt from The Witch's Thief #pnr #historicalparanormal #witchromance

This is the third book in the The Merriweather Witches. If you missed the other excerpts I posted, you can still read The Witch and the Wolf and The Witch and the Vampire.

Basil Merriweather returns to England after ten years abroad to discover his childhood sweetheart living in his home. But, he's no longer the carefree man of his youth and she's hiding something--deadly secrets Basil vows to uncover even as he hides a dark secret of his own.

While neither Basil nor Julia will trust in the other, their hearts speak a truer language. In a grand attempt to save Julia's sister and Basil's life, the two must finally confess sinister truths. Will their admissions help or hinder any future they may have together? Or will the necromancer destroy all in a vile attempt at revenge.

Excerpt:

The servants led him in several directions. Each had seen her in one room and then another that day. Even Aunt Petunia was certain she’d seen her walking into the conservatory at one point. But in each room Basil searched, he saw no sign of her.

At last, while walking by the drawing room, he heard a muffled curse behind the closed door. He paused, leaning close to listen. A few more oaths and rather loud whispering. Julia’s voice to be sure, but with whom was she speaking?

Basil turned the knob without knocking to alert her of his presence. He didn’t know why he would do something so ungentlemanly, but he let his instinct lead him.

It had never failed before.

The door swung open on quiet hinges and revealed a most peculiar scene. Julia, on her hands and knees, peering under Aunt Petunia’s favorite sofa. Basil’s breath hitched in his chest at the sight of his beloved’s derriere posed invitingly in the air. He paused at the doorway, stunned to find Julia in such a position.

Although he was not surprised by his rather masculine appreciation.

“There’s nothing under here,” Julia proclaimed, and wriggled her bottom again as she swept her hand back and forth. Basil nearly bit his tongue. His breeches began to feel tight.

“Do you think it might be in another room?” Julia asked.

Did she speak to him? Basil narrowed his eyes as he peered more closely into the room. There was no one else in sight. He opened his mouth to respond, but something alerted her to his presence.

“I know we searched here before, but—wait, what did you say? I did not hear—oh!” Julia looked out from beneath the sofa. She must have seen his booted feet standing by the door. She bumped her head as she wriggled out from beneath the sofa to quickly stand and brushed the non-existent dirt away from her skirts.

“I-I-I did not hear you come in,” she stammered, a rosy blush blossoming on her cheeks.

“No, I suppose you did not. You were much too busy in conversation with someone who is no longer present.”

Julia’s gaze darted toward the window. His gaze followed, but he saw no one. When he looked back, she was busy wringing her hands together. Basil’s eyebrow lifted. During their younger days, he always knew how distressed she was by the way she wrestled with her hands while speaking.

He shoved the door open farther then went to her. He took her clenched fingers into his own and lifted them to his lips. While he placed precise kisses on each of her knuckles, her eyelids fluttered closed, and he found her blushing for another reason. The warmth that spread through him had nothing to do with brandy or wine, but was purely his physical response to Julia Grey.

“Julia,” he said, holding her hands between them. “With whom were you speaking?”

She stiffened. “No one.”

“Then what were you looking for beneath the sofa?”

She bit her lip and hesitated before saying, “Nothing.”

He tilted his head and grinned. “Why do I feel like Cook when we were children and were just caught sneaking into the pantry to steal sweets?”

Instead of the smile he expected, Julia tugged her hand away from his and took a step back, placing space between them. The gap widened in more than simple physical distance.

He frowned.

“I, ah, misplaced my needlework,” she said, still not looking at his face. Her gaze remained locked on some patch of carpeted floor a few paces away. “I thought I might have left it here.”

Unless she had practiced a great deal, he knew Julia had no talent with a needle. She proved that once when she attempted to mend a tear in his favorite shirt. The shirt was irreparable after her good intentioned efforts.

“Julia,” he said. “What are you looking for? Truly.”

Her gaze wandered to the window. She shook her head and whispered, “No.”

“No? What do you mean? You do not plan to tell me?”

Her head jerked up in surprise as if she just realized he stood in the room. “No? I mean…I have no idea. Why you would…that is…why would you think I wasn’t looking for my needlework?” As she stumbled through her excuse with him, her bottom lip trembled.

His heart hammered in his chest. His gut told him something was very wrong.

“Oh, do you know?” she said, raising one farcical finger to tap thoughtfully on her chin. “I do believe I left that needlework in my room. Why do I not go check? Silly of me really to assume I left it here. Yes, yes, it must be there.”

As she babbled, she moved to walk around him, but Basil’s hand jerked out and grabbed her arm, stopping her momentum. She halted, and her gaze flew to his.

“Something is wrong, Julia. Why won’t you tell me?”

She shook her head. A tingle began on the back of his skull, and shivers sluiced through his shoulders. With one hand on her arm, he turned around quickly, looking throughout the room for an intruder. He saw no one. But, he felt…something.

“Basil?”

Basil shrugged, wishing he could brush the eerie sensations away.

“I...” He looked around again, certain his eyes deceived him.

There was someone in this room. Someone other than Julia and himself.

“Basil?”

“I feel as though someone is watching me.” He felt foolish to admit such a thing. It appeared obvious to them both there was no one else in this room, and yet, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Julia leaned on his arm. He looked over to see her releasing her pent up breath in a huge sigh. Then she focused on something in the center of the room and shook her head infinitesimally.

He looked back and forth between the center of the room and Julia, confused by her reaction to vacant space.

“Julia, what is going on?”

This time when she looked into his eyes, he saw a world of expression. A secret, a devastating secret. Something with which she was reluctant to speak. She wanted to tell him, he could see that plainly with her look of desperation, but something held her back.

The brief moment of vulnerability vanished. She straightened and shook her head.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Basil sighed then turned to look back in the room. He scanned over the furnishings and in the corners, but the sun shone brilliantly, the rays reflecting off of the newly fallen snow to brighten the room so no shadows remained. There was no sign of anyone.

And yet…

Basil closed his eyes. He took a deep controlled breath and grew still. He opened his senses to scan the room, searching for any sign of magical means.

There was spellwork in this room. Strange spellwork. Such as he had never sensed in this house. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

His eyes flew open, and he released Julia’s arm as if stung.

“Julia, what did you do?”

Amazon | Universal

The Merriweather Witches series:

Saturday, October 23, 2021

The Witch and the Vampire #Excerpt ~ The Merriweather Witches #pnr #vampireromance #witch #historicalparanormal

Here is the second book of the The Merriweather Witches. If you missed the first excerpt I posted, you can check out The Witch and the Wolf here.

Sebastian Collins should have left for London days ago. Now a snowstorm has trapped him with a woman who has come seeking protection, a woman who intrigues him like no other. And with each passing hour, his hunger for her grows...hunger for her kiss, her caress, and her blood.

Excerpt:

Sebastian strained against the trembling that consumed his entire body. He smelled her blood from here, even after he placed such distance between them. Of course, it did not help that every so often she took small steps toward him, advancing on him, as if she were a predator and he the vulnerable prey.

The irony of that particular thought made him grin, sadly.

Another whiff of lavender wafted to his nostrils. That and the subtler scent of her skin beneath the scented soap she favored. Bare skin. With the blood pumping so strongly beneath. She smelled of fear, confusion and anger. Her emotions mixed like a delectable cloud wrapping around him, enveloping him and making him forget who and what he was and more importantly where he was. He closed his eyes breathing deeply but trying so desperately not to smell her.

“Did you hear me?” She asked, the anger in her voice preceding another wave of the heated aroma of her skin.

“Yes,” he stated, calmly. If only he could feel as controlled as his voice. Such practice it had taken him, years upon years to master the even tones, to deceive those with whom he spoke, to conceal the truth. “Is he your brother or your father?”

“What?”

Her confusion mirrored her voice. She had such an expressive voice. If he didn’t have the ability to smell her he could still tell what she was thinking or feeling simply from the dulcet tones of her tender voice. He had no need to see her when he could listen to her. With that, he could paint a picture of what she looked like in his mind. She was young. Early to mid-twenties. Much too young for him to take. Too pure. Innocent.

Oh, how she must taste! His stomach clenched with desire but he pushed it away, focusing on their conversation.

“Phillip,” he said, forcing a masking smile over his lips. “Is he your brother or your father?”

“My father,” she stated her voice suddenly a soft whisper. He could hear her. His eyes might fail him but his hearing was beyond excellent. “He was my father.”

Sebastian turned.

The grief poured from her, spilling onto him, quelling his hunger. He could not keep the surprise out of his controlled voice. “Was? He’s dead? How?”

A slight whimper escaped her. Through his cloudy vision, he saw her figure waver and he realized with quiet dread what was about to occur. He moved. His body reacting before he could argue with the logic of his brain. When he reached her, he found her trembling and he knew it was not from the cold of her journey. He caught her just before her wobbly knees gave out beneath her.

“Forgive me,” he said, urging his voice back into the calm timbre he used so often when dealing with such as she. But as soon as he touched her, he realized with shock she wasn’t like the rest.

Tingles erupted from his fingertips and traveled up his arms into his neck and chest, stabbing him with liquid fire. It spread through him like warm wine. He realized when he had touched her before, it had never been skin on skin. His gloves had protected him…and her. He pulled her close, breathing her scent, tasting the smell on his tongue.

He wanted more. So much more...

As he held her tightly, his hand found the skin of her neck. Her pulse beat wildly against his fingers, tempting him with the gift of her blood. With clenched teeth, he moved past her neck and onto her face. His cloudy eyes observed only a blur but as his fingers drifted over the smooth skin of her cheekbones, the delicate arch of her brows, the butterfly wings of her lashes and onto the bridge of her nose, he could see a better picture of her in his mind’s eye.

She was beautiful. More beautiful than he had imagined.

His fingertips touched her lips. He felt the air stir with her gasp as her lips parted in surprise.

His gut spasmed with renewed hunger. His teeth ached, pressing against his upper lip. His mouth watered for a taste of her. And his manhood throbbed with sudden passion. He wanted her.

All of her.

Amazon | Universal

The Merriweather Witches series:

Wednesday, October 20, 2021

The Witch and the Wolf #Excerpt ~ The Merriweather Witches #pnr #witchromance #shifter #shifterlovers

It's Halloween season! One of my favorite times of year! And a perfect time for sharing excerpts of The Merriweather Witches.

Lillian Merriweather hadn't planned to get caught in a blizzard while traveling the English countryside. Nor had she planned on finding refuge in a house full of secrets. But Lillian has secrets of her own. And what she's running from is not far behind...

Excerpt:

"You have need to remove those clothes," he said, hesitantly.

Lillian watched him warily as he took another step toward the door. "If you can manage to undress yourself, I'll fetch you something you can wear." Without another word, he disappeared.

She stared after him, wondering why he had not summoned a maid to assist her. She looked at her hands which remained numb. It would be impossible for her to unbutton anything with her fingers motionless from the cold.

Shivering, she knew she needed to make the attempt. If he refused to send anyone to help her, which Lillian considered rude, then she would just have to resort to helping herself. In normal circumstances, she would be quite capable. Circumstances being what they were, however...

She let the blanket fall from her shoulders as she fumbled with the buttons on the front of her frock. Good thing they were in the front, for if they had been in the back as some of her other dresses, it would have been an impossibility to disrobe. Though, try as she might, her fingers refused the simple commands she gave them. It seemed an inordinate amount of time before she saw a shadow fall across her lap.

Lillian looked up to see him watching her. He had changed his robe into breeches and a hastily buttoned shirt. His feet, though, were bare.

"Forgive my dishabille," he said. "It is not often we receive visitors at these hours."

"I cannot expect you would," she said, smiling regretfully. She lifted her hands to him by way of explanation. "I am having a bit of difficulty. I'm afraid my hands are quite useless at the moment."

He stared intensely and she felt she had inconvenienced him in some way.

"If you might send a maid to assist me..."

"There is none."

"What?"

"We have no maid at the moment, miss. In fact, there is no one at present save Amery and myself." He grimaced as he spoke, and she realized the quandary she had placed upon them.

"Oh," she muttered, truly at a loss for words of any kind. How unusual that he should be derelict of staff. She had noticed no neglect. The rooms she had occupied seemed well tended, and she could not imagine he and the man named Amery would do all the housework themselves.

He seemed to read her thoughts because he continued, "Once a month, I give my staff a paid holiday, and they return to their families or visit friends in the village. Amery is the only one who remains here to assist me. So you see, we are quite uncertain as to what to do with you."

Lillian nodded her understanding, looking again at the dreaded buttons that now appeared as steel manacles.

“You cannot remain in those wet clothes,” he added as an unnecessary reminder.

Her breath caught in her throat as the only possibility for their situation tumbled into her head. She glanced speculatively at him to see if he had come upon the same conclusion.

“You will catch your death of cold if we wait for your hands to thaw,” he added, as if he needed to convince himself. His face and tone became serious as he continued, “I offer you my assistance. I promise I am a gentleman above reproach. What occurs here will stay within this room and no further. No one ever need know how I helped you. Do you understand?”

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

Then Lillian gave a solemn nod, casting her gaze to the floor. She felt beyond compromised, but what did that matter in her situation? In fact, it might improve her situation if she dealt with her problems in the correct manner. Her current dilemma needed to be seen to at once. The snow had crept through her cloak and soaked her dress. It clung cold and uncomfortable around her every curve. She knew, as did he, the thing must be removed.

He moved forward, closing the gap between them until he stood directly before her. Keeping her gaze lowered did nothing to benefit her. She saw his feet first, and she shivered. Other than her father, she had never seen a man’s bare feet before. She would have never considered such appendages appealing, but she had to admit she felt her breath hitch in her throat as she watched those strong, masculine feet step closer to her.

Then his hands filled her vision. Large hands, the backs, of which, lightly sprinkled with dark hair. He reached toward her chest, and she inhaled sharply as he began unclasping the buttons.

She shut her eyes at the sight of the man, a stranger no less, undressing her. Her body tensed, and Lillian held her breath determined not to notice his every movement. Tried to ignore the touch of his knuckles brushing against her breasts. However innocent his actions may be, she could not stop her nipples from tightening nor could she stop the sudden yearning that his hands might wander farther.

Her face flamed at her secret thoughts. Her body warmed, hotter than any fire. It felt as if her blood might boil at her sudden wanton wishes. She felt his breath on her face and inhaled softly, breathing in that intoxicating mixture of tobacco, brandy and pine.

She began to tremble but could not determine whether the cold affected her or his present actions.

"I find that I have never had the need of introductions with a lady while I disrobed her," he said, his voice soft and slightly amused. "Might I take the opportunity now? I am Lord Jeremy North."

Amazon | Universal

The Merriweather Witches series:

Friday, September 10, 2021

Pre-Order The Ghost of Morley Manor #ghostromance #gothicromance #pnr

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Monday, May 10, 2021

The Witch and the Vampire #Excerpt #pnr #vampireromance #witchromance

Excerpt:

"You may have his books, any of them, but only if you grant your protection."

Protection? Sebastian clung to the mantel, the effort to keep himself from going to her, from embracing her, ravaging her... he licked his lips... from tasting her blood, was becoming increasingly difficult. He couldn't remember a full moon when he'd felt quite so weak. There had been challenging moments surely, but never a time when he feared his own loss of control. Not since the beginning, anyway.

"Protection from what?" He felt compelled to ask, even though he certainly knew her answer. But how could he protect her from himself? Even if she barred the door to her bedchamber, he knew of ways to get inside... to touch her. Taste her... He flinched.

Oh, God, control.

He must have control.

"There may be..." She hesitated, and he held his breath waiting for her to continue. "There may be men following me. I want you to assure me you will protect me. That you will not allow them to take me."

Fear.

He smelled it swirling in the air. It circled her like a flock of eager vultures about to descend on a roadside feast. His mouth watered. He placed the back of his hand against his mouth, feeling the sharpened length of his eyeteeth beginning to descend.

His breathing quickened, but it only brought more of her scent to his nostrils.

"And protection for my sister. They search for her, too. I need to know you will keep us safe."

She was vulnerable. Full of fear and uncertainty. Lack of food had weakened her, but her blood still surged strongly through her young, healthy veins.

How easy it would be to reach out to her, hold her and comfort her, stroke her hair and inhale her lavender scent, to nuzzle her neck, taste her skin...

His gut spasmed, nearly buckling his knees.

"Please, go," Sebastian said, panting, nearly bent over from the urge to attack her. He needed blood. What he wanted was her blood, but he was not so far gone as to give in to the beast within. Not yet. He would not kill another innocent. "Go, now."

"But..."

He could not let her see what he was about to do. He couldn't allow anyone to witness such degradation.

"Go back to your room. Lock the door... Please... leave me!" He shouted savagely.

He heard her confused scrambling feet, dashing to the doorway. He heard her heart thumping wildly, and he wondered if it was his appearance that frightened her or the desperation he heard in his own voice. At the sound of the door clicking shut, Sebastian stepped away from the fireplace and dropped to his knees. He unbuttoned his shirtsleeves, pushing the fabric up to reveal the naked flesh of his arm. He took great gulping breaths, attempting one last time to regain some manner of control over himself.

He could do this. He could fight this.

He glanced at his bare arm. The vein in his wrist throbbed violently.

Thirst burned his tongue.

It took only a moment for his fangs to descend fully to pierce his own flesh.

https://books2read.com/TheWitchandtheVampire

The Merriweather Witches series: