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

"I don't believe this!" Adelaide, twinkles in her eyes, muttered to no one else but her unsightly private teacher who was standing by her side. The five-year-old could hardly contain her joy. She knew Ms. Powell would be able to tell. 


It was barely a minute ago when Simon walked out of the drawing room after breaking the giddy news to her in the presence of the two other men that were there in that place, for the purpose of doing the job.…


Mr. Allain, one of the painters, who was holding up the bucket of creamy wall paint, hoisted a sneer upon his shriveled face. "I am part-disappointed, and part-upset," he said crossly to his partner, a gross man who was beer-bellied. He was standing near the ladder Allain had mounted up on. 


"Shame," his partner said, with a disappointing nod of his hirsute head. The man's lips were wide, and his mouth large. Adelaide thought that he resembled a frog.


Stressed out