Nancy_Jim

[ON HIATUS!!!!]

What are the chances that a selfish, spoiled and arrogant daughter of a noble man in the little town of Griffinwald would fall head over heels in love with a foreigner, an affluent merchant who bathes in the very waters of pride, arrogance and bloated ego?

 What are the odds that the universe would plan their meet in the most dramatic way; a missing handkerchief flying off with the wind; Scared horses whinning loudly in the distance, a banging thunderstorm is the grand plan.

 What if this merchant has travelled this far to seek out a certain girl who should become his bride, only to land his heart in another woman's bosoms? 

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EXCERPT
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"The housekeeper is not," said she. "And I am not dumb enough as you think. I can figure my way out of here."


"You can?"


"Yes, I can."


"Hm." Rochester travelled his hand up to his lips. Bussing his mouth sensually with his thumb, he felt his lips divide. Hoping it would have the desired effect on the girl, he said, "I am still confused. Why haven't you left here already? Is there perhaps something else you would need me to do for you? Want to warm my bed perhaps?"


"You are disgusting, sir! And I hate you!" Louisa yelled, and in a couple of sprints, she was outside his chamber, shutting the door with a slam.


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PS. This book is set in thesame fantasy world as my other book, "The Dark Lord's Maiden." You could add up the other book to binge read up to the latest chapters to understand the personality of these characters. But then again this book can also be read as a stand-alone, apart from TDLM.

NOTE BELOW!

The first chapter has been renamed “Prologue [Silver blue] ” and the former content has been changed. Please clear cache or re-add to Library if you cannot access it.

Cheers! And happy reading

COVER ART BELONGS TO ME. DO NOT STEAL!
ínstαgrαm hαndlє: @nαncчjímσffícíαl
fαcєвσσk @ Nαncєє Jímí
fα¢євσσк ραgє @ｎａｎｃｙ ｗｒｉｔｅｓ

The Merchant's Bride

THE STORM HAD ENDED, Rochester pushed forward to lean against the wall, his gaze resting on the window summer. The shining morning dew which usually lit up the grassy plains of the garden had long been replaced by the sun's beam. Noon was fast approaching. And though his mood was disoriented for a major lack of sleep among the lots, he was still thankful because of what that person had done in the end. Her response had been the least of his expectations, but he was appreciative now that she had done it. It was artful, the way she had put his mother in her place, so he believed she must have figured out how he needed saving without even saying.


"Boss…" a macho voice spoke from the opposite side of the door.


"Who's it? I am not in the mood to see anybody."


"Oh, but it is just me, sir. Caesar, your wine butler. I came with the…"


"You may come in," Rochester said, adjusting his frame from leaning tiredly against the wall.


Eternal Shame