It's the month for weddings!

Intro:
I guess I can see why so many women want to marry in June. Flowers are in bloom, the weather isn’t so very hot, and there are perhaps fewer showers, so outdoor venues are available without too many worries. I’ve never considered it myself. And in fact, I was never one of those little girls who dreamed of her wedding. I didn’t pore over bridal magazines or dream of my dress. Didn’t imagine the church or the bridesmaids, or the honeymoon. I just wanted the best groom in the world and figured everything else would fall into place. And that’s pretty much what happened! Here’s a story with one groom—but two husbands. Funny how that happened!

For the month for weddings, here’s Siobhan, from the Sisters O’Ryan series.

 

Blurb: 

In 1875, Siobhan O'Ryan marries Micah, one of Boston's Berwick twins. Micah has charm, good looks, a nice nature and money. Lots of money. Siobhan has seen two of her sisters suffer because one married for love and the other let their father select her husband. Siobhan will stake her future on her own practicality. Choosing Micah means she will be the belle of Boston.

 Micah hates destroying Siobhan's dreams by telling her they must move to San Francisco, but it's that or be disinherited. Surprisingly, he falls in love with his new wife along the way and then discovers that his twin loves her too. Even more surprising is when Siobhan reveals that she would enjoy having both men in her bed. Just when they think nothing can destroy their freedom and happiness in wild California, visitors arrive from straight-laced Boston that threaten everything.

 

Buy link:
Amazon

Excerpt:
“This necklace, I think, Ching Li,” she said, pointing to a simple gold chain with a ruby cabochon suspended from it. Smaller rubies dangled from her ears and encircled her wrist. Mai had outdone herself with the gown, a high-waisted design of black silk. Lace interwoven with slivers of cut glass covered the bodice and capped sleeves, making them sparkle in the candlelight. A sheath of black silk fell to the floor without further adornment.

Examining herself in the mirror, she smiled in approval. Serious Andrew would appreciate simplicity, whereas she would have worn color and a style with flair for Micah. The accountant and the artist. In some ways they were different as night and day. In others, they were as though one man, one soul.

“That’s perfect. Thank you. There’s no need to wait up tonight.”

Ching Li bowed. “Yes, Missy.”

Siobhan retrieved an envelope from a drawer in her dressing table and then stood. “And please do not wake me at the usual time tomorrow. I have no appointments until after noon. But you may take this contract to your friend. Like Mai, she’s a real talent. I think she will be a fine second seamstress.”

“Thank you. She will be very happy.” With another bow, Ching Li left the room.

“Time to face the lion,” she said out loud.

She walked down the stairs thinking Andrew might meet her at the foot.

“He hasn't come down yet, ma’am.” Martin, the butler, stood in the entrance hall with her wrap in hand.

“Thank you, Martin. Would you be a dear and run up and tell him we will be late if he doesn’t hurry?”

“No need. Here I am.” Andrew came down the steps tightening his tie.

“Here, let me do that,” she said, when he came to a stop beside her. She reached up and straightened it, an intimate gesture not wasted on either of them.

She allowed Martin to help her with her wrap, and they descended the outside steps to the waiting carriage.

“Have you ever seen Carmen?” Andrew asked as they bumped over the streets.

“No, have you?”

“Once, in New York. I went with Mother while Micah went off to a museum.”

“You two are very unalike in some ways.”

“I suppose we are. Yet even in our differences we shared with each other. When he was really entranced, truly concentrating on a subject for a drawing, I always knew what it was—the shape and color of it—before he told me.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Conversely, when I struggled with a math problem, he discerned enough to help talk me through it.”

She stared out at the passing street scene, musing. “That must be strange, having someone know your mind almost as well as you do. I have three sisters and they’ve never come close to knowing who I am or what I want.”

“And what is that, Siobhan?” He said it softly.

She faced him squarely. “Security. I want to be safely secure, yet in control of my life.”

“Did you think marrying a Berwick would do that?”

“Yes.” He quirked his head. A flash of streetlight showed the interest in his eyes. She said, “One sister ran off and married for what she thought was love. The emotion didn’t keep him alive or give her money to live well. My next sister accepted my father’s wise decision of an older, wealthy man. He’d be steady, Father assured Anya. The filthy, old man cornered me in a closet and tried for a kiss before they’d been married three days. So in the examples of my two sisters, I discovered that love doesn’t last and steadfastness can be faked. I prefer to live a good life in good style, but control my heart and mind, thank you.”

“Did you tell her?”

He didn’t need to elaborate. She knew what he meant. “I should have, I suppose.” She frowned and bit her bottom lip. “But there could be no annulment and they were leaving the next day for Atlanta. How could I make her unhappy in her choice before she had a chance to assert herself as a wife?”

He seemed amused at her rationalization. “And is she happy?”

No, she didn’t think so, not if a letter they’d received before she left for New York was any indication. She lifted one shoulder in question. “Who knows what happiness is?”

The carriage slowed. “Oh, look! We’re here.” She couldn't keep excitement from her voice.

Andrew jumped out when they stopped and helped her down. After dismissing the carriage and making arrangements for when the driver should return, he offered his arm.

He’d dressed in a tuxedo for the wedding. But since then, she hadn’t seen Micah or Andrew in anything other than suit and tie for dinner. She didn’t believe in formal wear for family meals, but seeing Andrew now, in proper black tie, could change her mind.

His jacket and trousers were as black as his hair. His blue eyes blazed from under long, charcoal lashes. His shoulders appeared broad as the Bay, tucked into his jacket. She imagined two Adonises like this on each side of the dining table. She would never tire of the sight.

They took their box seats just before the lights dimmed. Another couple shared the box with them, and hasty introductions were made. Then Siobhan found herself lost in the performance.

A little about me:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

 After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for my newsletter and have access to free reads.

 Author links:

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