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About the author:
R. J. Francis could rightfully call quaint New England, the beaches of Southern California, the misty Pacific Northwest, or magical New Zealand home. The Kiwi-American author currently resides in New Zealand.
Here is a short sample from the book:
She kissed his chin, and then crawled over him to kiss him on the bare skin of his upper chest, and then on his clothes, in a line, again and again she kissed him, all the way down the center of his body. Her hair, the folds of her dress, and the fragrance of her body teased Jaimin’s face.
“Maybe you were right. We’re to be joined now, without waiting any longer,” she said, breathless.
“Damn this law,” he said.
“It’s actually a law? I thought it was just a custom.”
“Me too, until I asked my mother at dinner. It’s a law, binding on every Arran, that a couple must wait six months before marriage.”
In her eyes, a glint of mischief… “What’s the penalty for breaking the law?”
“Well, there’s no penalty. Not for the average subject, that is. But for the future king to break such a law would be disastrous.”