Savannah loves sex. If she’s not doing it with her gamer boyfriend, Arcas, she’s daydreaming about it, preferably with a 19th century duke. She embarks on a year-long journey of sexual exploration, documenting her experiences in her online blog. When Savannah’s conservative past threatens her newfound freedom, will she find the courage to stay the course? Fans of Shayla Black, Tessa Dare, and the Bridgerton series by Julia Quinn will love Virtue by Ida Brady, a spicy, seductive, enemies-to-lovers, alpha/virgin, disability, erotic romance.
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Savannah loves nothing more than a good romp in the sack. If she’s not doing it with her paraplegic gamer boyfriend, Arcas, she’s at the very least daydreaming about it, preferably with a duke from the 19th century. Her overactive imagination means she can’t help but fantasize about the R-rated pastimes of the peerage, adding her own scintillating scenes to her favorite historical romance, Love and Honor.
By day, she dreams about the commanding Duke of Maddern and his seduction of Miss Emmaline Collins, the innocent, headstrong beauty whose heart he broke long ago. By night, she embarks on a year-long sex challenge: to experience and document her wild bedroom antics in her online blog, Sexcapades.
But when her conservative past threatens her newfound freedom, Savannah must find the courage to stay the course. Hovering between Regency England and modern-day Melbourne, she begins a journey of sexual exploration that no one had seen coming.
Not even her trusty little Rabbit.
Excerpt
Copyright 2022 Ida Brady
Savannah stroked the spine of the book, a smile playing at her lips.
It was her umpteenth time reading Love and Honor, a classic nineteenth-century romance and all she could think about was why the Duke of Maddern didn’t bend Miss Collins over his desk and show her just how proud he could be.
She could picture him in the library now, stalking towards Emmaline, demanding she lift her skirts.
Her imagination beckoned along with her desire.
The Duke followed Miss Collins into the library, his cock straining against his breeches. He shut the door behind him firmly, the sharp click reverberating through the empty room. Time was limited. Flustered and uncertain, Emmaline’s chaperone, an older, unmarried relative, had accepted the Earl’s offer to dance. He owed Lord Stanton a great sum for the diversion.
The moon was particularly bright this evening, piercing through the windows, illuminating the beauty of the woman before him. All softness had faded, though the years had not been unkind. There was a haunting beauty to her visage, a sadness that shadowed her graceful movements. For as long as he could remember, she had conducted herself as a lady. Indeed, she was, if not for the inconvenience of her father’s station, a lady in every respect. She would always be so in his mind.
Was he in his cups, or were her lips an even darker shade of peony than he remembered? Even with her brow pinched and her mouth downturned, she stirred a long-forgotten feeling inside.
He knew it was not right to be alone with her in this fashion. Even still, he would chase this woman to the most exotic, far-off continents.
“I’ve been thinking about you since Mrs. Perryweather’s play.”
He watched as one round shoulder lifted in nonchalance. Despite the casual gesture, her eyes shimmered with unspoken thoughts.
Once he had been privy to such musings, but no longer.
“Is that so, Your Grace? I thought you were rather occupied.”
Maddern had been overrun by young ladies eager to make his acquaintance. He was quite a catch according to the meddling mammas. Yet not one of the simpering ingénues had stirred his appetite.
He knew what they said. After all, he was a duke with a considerable fortune. A duty, he found, that was akin to a hangman’s noose. Maddern was weary of doing what was expected. None of it mattered if he didn’t get what he truly desired.
The woman standing before him.
Miss Emmaline Collins.
She was stubborn and impertinent. Bold in her manner. And she harbored a hatred for him that had not dissipated over time. He intended to bring her to heel, perhaps over his bended knee. The image was too illicit to fathom, but once it had taken up residence in his head, he was determined to make it a reality.
“Don’t play coy with me. I am not a fool,” Maddern rumbled.
“One must not laugh at the noble Duke. He is, after all, such a jovial, candid man.”
“Lift those skirts, wench, and I will show you the real meaning of candid.”
About Ida Brady
Ida Brady writes spicy contemporary and erotic romance that packs all the heat! From humour, to heartbreak, to happily ever after, you're guaranteed a steamy read with all the tropes. Enemies to lovers, billionaire, virgin, menage...you name it, she writes it!
Ida is a lover of chocolate and thunderstorms. When she isn't trying to tame her intractable curls, she's running after her little ones, usually with a book in hand. Ida lives in the hustle and bustle of Melbourne's CBD with her Irish husband and their out of control collection of books. She sometimes daydreams about having a huge library in her home but will settle for stacking novels in the kitchen drawers instead.
In her past life, Ida taught VCE Literature and English to a gaggle of teenagers. While she misses their enthusiasm, she sure as hell doesn't miss marking papers. You might find her dancing the Argentine tango in her spare time, which isn't often these days. She loves travelling with her family, observing strangers at cafés and getting lost in a good story.
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