Promo Post The Frost of Springtime
About the Book
AUTHOR: Rachel L. Demeter
GENRE: Historical Romance/Historical Fiction
PUBLISHER: Black Lyon Publishing, LLC
PUBLICATION DATE: February 14, 2014
To rescue her was to rescue his own soul.
On a cold Parisian night, Vicomte Aleksender de Lefèvre forges an everlasting bond with a broken girl during her darkest hour, rescuing her from a life of abuse and misery. Tormented by his own demons, he finds his first bit of solace in sheltering little Sofia Rose.
But when Aleksender is drawn away by the Franco-Prussian war, the seasons pass. And in that long year, Sofia matures into a stunning young woman—a dancer with an understanding of devotion and redemption far surpassing her age.
Alongside his closest friend, Aleksender returns home to find that “home” is gone—replaced by revolution, bloodshed, betrayal—and a love always out of reach. Scarred inside and out, he’s thrust into a world of sensuality and violence—a world in which all his hours have now grown dark, and where only Sofia might bring an end to the winter in his heart.
Inspired by the 1871 Paris Commune, The Frost of Springtime is a poignant tale of revolution, redemption, and the healing power of love.
Rachel L. Demeter lives in the beautiful hills of Anaheim, California with Teddy, her goofy lowland sheepdog, and high school sweetheart of ten years. She enjoys writing dark, edgy romances that challenge the reader’s emotions and examine the redeeming power of love.
Imagining stories and characters has been Rachel’s passion for longer than she can remember. Before learning how to read or write, she would dictate stories while her mom would jot them down for her. She has a special affinity for the tortured hero and unconventional romances. Whether sculpting the protagonist or antagonist, she always ensures that every character is given a soul.
Rachel strives to intricately blend elements of romance, suspense, and horror. Some common themes her stories never stray too far from: forbidden romance, soul mates, the power of love to redeem, mend all wounds, and triumph over darkness. Her dream is to move readers and leave an emotional impact through her words.
“I do not love you.”
Aleksender’s lips crashed against Sofia’s in a movement he was utterly unable to control. Both hands broke through the material of her cloak in a jarring whoosh of air, grazing her shoulders with his icy fingertips.
Riding up and over the curve of her hips, speaking into the dewy heat of her mouth, “I do not love you.” Rough, weathered hands skimmed over the tender swell of her breasts and worshiped every inch of her beauty. His tongue dueled with her own, drinking Sofia deep, sucking in her spirit. Her kisses were sweet as nectar, dripping with pure seduction and a virginal sensuality. “I do not love you.” Aleksender’s quivering fingertips tangled within the mass of damp, russet locks. He gave a gentle tug and reeled her closer. “I do not love you.”
His hands swept down the elegant column of her throat and enveloped the thin shaft. Aleksender tenderly cupped her face within his palms. His thumbs stroked her cheeks and drew invisible circles along the slates of porcelain flesh.
Sofia knew he was a broken soul … more so now than ever before. No, she was not scared. His cruelty was entirely wasted. One look in his eyes had confirmed her every thought. He’d never harm her. Although, for reasons she couldn’t fully comprehend, he wanted her to believe otherwise.
But Sofia saw past his rugged façade. And her heart only constricted for his pain. She felt so helpless, so very trapped. How she ached to heal him! She ached to kiss away all of his scars—internal and external, old and new. She ached to rescue him from the blackened depths of despair—just as he’d done, all those nine years ago.
No. She could not stop herself. Sofia sighed and slanted her lovely face, deepening their kiss to new limits.
Yes, Sofia’s heart screamed, she could heal him. He needed only to open his arms, mind, body—
Aleksender forced himself away. Sofia’s eardrums thundered, slamming against her consciousness in a deafening roar. She could hear her own pulse. Her heart swelled to painful proportions, threatening to burst free.
Aleksender and Sofia harmoniously panted as they struggled to catch their breaths. Eyes blinking shut in despair, Aleksender pressed his temple against Sofia’s. Nestled within the safety of her arms and speaking for the both of them, he recited the tragic confession: “I cannot love you.”