A Writer's Life....Caroline Clemmons: FOR HER HONOR

Monday, January 28, 2019

FOR HER HONOR

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1873 –

Adam Gentry, heir to the celebrated Paradise Stables in Virginia, is haunted by the visions of his lost love. Feeling cursed by fate, he slips deeper into grief, shrouded in a cloud of liquor and depression, and neglects his duties and responsibilities. But when Adam is forced to accept that there’s nothing he can do to change his past, he knows he must move on.

And he accepts his own destiny: that he will never love again.

Emmaline Somerset finds herself in the worst possible position any unmarried woman can be in. She will have to abandon all of her plans, hopes, and dreams for an independence using her own talents. The only viable solution is to move to a distant relative’s home and reinvent herself as a widow with an infant. No one will ever be the wiser.

Adam, now determined to secure the Gentry legacy, plans to save longtime family friend Emmaline from her embarrassment with an offer of marriage. But what Adam didn’t plan on was how his unexpected attraction to her would stir something inside of him, something he's kept locked deep within.

Can love find its way between two troubled souls, one driven by duty, the other by honor, both determined to find their way home?

Read an Excerpt:

“Must have been so engrossed in what I was doing last night, I didn’t realize I’d had a bit too much to drink. Thanks for the coffee,” Adam Gentry said and took another tentative sip.

Jim Somerset dropped down on his haunches, putting him at eye level with Adam. He shook his head.

“Most nights you manage to stumble up the steps, but last night I carried you up here over my shoulder as I have done four times over the last two weeks.”

“Should have just let me sleep wherever I was.”

Jim shook his head again. “Mrs. Gentry and my wife don’t care for that much. They think you should be in your bed.”

Adam looked at the clock on the table. Nearly noontime. “They should just let me alone,” he said with a shrug.

“I do my best to keep them away from you. I chased Livie from the library last night before I hauled your ass up the steps. Unfortunately, your mother heard me coming down the hallway and opened her door. She offered to see to you. I told her I’d take care of things, thinking you’d not want your mother yanking off your pants at your age.”

Jim didn’t talk much. That trait had nearly kept him from marrying Livie, his being too hardheaded and taciturn for a decade to tell her that he was mad about her. When he did string together a sentence or three it was of some importance.

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