A Regency re-telling of Beauty and the Beast, featuring a strong heroine and a scarred, tortured hero.
Lord Victor Mayhew, Viscount Norcross, lives in the shadows, hiding his scarred face from those who would fear him... or worse, pity him. He's become accustomed to the dark, and to the aching loneliness that is his only and constant companion. But while traversing the city in the dark of night, he encounters a beautiful woman who is running for her life.
Lady Thessaly Shade has discovered that the prettiest of faces can hide the ugliest of hearts. While Lord Norcross keeps his face carefully concealed from her, he cannot hide the fact that he is a man of honor, a man for whom the word gentleman is a way of life and not merely an honorary title.
With no way to repay him for his kindness, for his courage in aiding her at great risk to himself, Thessaly bargains with the only thing she possesses of value... herself. Can she convince him to trust her, to believe that she can see beyond the scars he bears to the man he is? Or will he push her away out of fear and retreat into the loneliness that he knows so well?
The Beast of Bath is a 30,000 word novella previously published in the Wicked Fairytales Anthology. It features some violence and steamy, open door sex scenes.
My current rank in the US is #314,000. However, this book has previusly been a bestseller at Amazon in Regency and tudor romance. Additionally, the audiobook reached the #1 bestseller position in regency romance at Audible. This is a back list title that has been publised since 2015.
It was well after four in the morning. The darkened streets were shrouded in fog, muffling the sound of his footsteps. The mist swirled, so thick and heavy it was impossible to see anything. He kept to the shadows regardless. The last thing he wanted was to rouse the town with the screams of whoever should be unlucky enough to stumble across him.
Beneath the hood of his woolen cloak, his hair hung in thick, wet ropes, still damp from his nightly sojourn to the Baths. The soothing waters from the natural hot springs were the only thing that offered any relief when his shoulder pained him. Thankfully the pain had lessened over time, though he doubted he would ever be entirely free of it. Of course, there was still the odd night when it would flare up, intense and debilitating.
His footsteps slowed as he reached the corner of the abbey. He paused before crossing the square, as it posed the greatest risk of running into others. Peering into the darkness, he heaved a sigh of relief. Sticking to the deep shadows afforded by the buttresses, he moved towards the street and crossed it quickly, heading toward the shelter of the tree studded park. It was a circuitous route home, but one that afforded the most protection from prying eyes.
A woman’s sharp scream pierced the night, reverberating in the canyons of mist shrouded streets. His first instinct was to believe she’d seen him, somehow, glimpsing the hideousness of him even in the dark. The sick feeling lodged in his gut, the dread that always accompanied such sightings, rare as they were. Logic told him the sound was too distant for that to be the case, but fear was rarely rational.
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Portuguese
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Unavailable for translation.
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