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© 2008, M.C. Scout Reviews For THE HALLS OF BUCHANNAN by M.C. Scout From Chrissy at Romance Junkies - 5
blue ribbons From Frost at Dark Angels 5 pixies THE HALLS OF BUCHANAN is the literary equivalent of following a twisting maze. One never knows what to expect next but intrigue and suspense are assured. Some scenes may perturb more sensitive readers, however, as the story includes several instances of bondage and non-consensual sex. The publisher rates it as "erotic-controversial". The villain's goals are set in stone and he will stop at nothing to achieve revenge, including rape, bondage-domination, and the murder of several principal and secondary characters. The saving grace is the incredible mental and emotional strength of the protagonists. Both hero and heroine as well as their friends and some of the enemy's contingent prove to be strong-willed and determined, requirements if they are to surpass the villain's overwhelming need for vengeance and his paranoid planning. Sample Chapter For THE HALLS OF BUCHANNAN by M.C. Scout You are cordially invited to a The messenger who hand-delivered the gold-engraved invitation bowed before leaving Buchannan Hall on the outskirts of New Orleans. Moira Daly, the Buchannan family housekeeper, closed the door to the antebellum manor house and sniffed. “Uppity Brit!” she said, hurrying to find her boss—a man she had cared for like her own flesh and blood—in the solaria to the rear of the house. “This was just delivered by an uppity British-type.” “Moira, I’m shocked!” Nick softly admonished her, feigning shock. He opened the envelope, impressed it had been hand-addressed. With the invitation came an additional note. Your travel arrangements will be Laney joined him, Nick handing her the invitation. “What do you think?” he asked. “Sounds interesting,” she replied, easing into an oversized chair. “What about our schedules? Mine is pretty open. I mean, it’s good to be a best-selling author. What about you?” “We’re through. I shot all the final scenes earlier before I started to show. The movie will wrap soon anyway.” “Then I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.” “Nick?” “Hmm?” “Who’s Peter Atkins?” “Multimillionaire playboy. I met him a few years back when I did a book tour for one of the novels—God, which one was it? Anyway, he’s a nice enough guy, a little eccentric, but…” “Why is he inviting us?” “He’s known to have gala parties, some lasting for days. He invites people he’s either never met or met once before, giving a whole new meaning to the term networking. People go, become friends with each other and with him,” he said, sitting beside her, his hand gently massaging her stomach. “Well, I hope he gets a costume big enough to cover a house because I’m going to be there.” “Honey, you’ll be beautiful. I’ll give him a call and advise him so my beautiful pregnant wife will be even more so.” “You are too kind, my Lord!” she said, smiling. Nick took her in his arms, kissing her and thinking back. * * * * Austin Nicholas Buchannan had been born and grew up on the outskirts of New Orleans on one of the last working plantations in the area. The estate had been in his family since the early 1800’s, always profitable. When the War Between the States broke out, his ancestors proudly raised the Stars and Bars and sent their sons off to defend the Confederacy and the Southern cause. It survived two major battles—the battle of New Orleans some thirty or more years before then the Northern siege of the city in April 1862. Fighting was what the city’s residents were good at, but Beasty Butler’s occupation proved to be an entirely different ordeal. Fortunately for the Buchannan family, their plantation remained self-sufficient, meaning they didn’t have to worry about going into the city for supplies. If they felt the need, they would go in, trade for what they needed and quietly leave. For some reason that remained unknown to him, the house and lands had been spared from the wrath of either side and slipped into a safe limbo for the duration of the war. All he did know—he loved the place—end of subject. He and his brother Matthew had been raised to run the estate once their parents passed on. One huge problem with this arrangement—Matthew didn’t want to put his life into the family home. Of the two, he wanted to see the world, make his fortune and enjoy life though that hadn’t been in the cards either. At nineteen, Matthew left Buchannan Hall to strike out on his own but disappeared from his New York apartment. After an extensive search for him turned up nothing, their mother didn’t recover from the shock of the loss. His father had to put her into one of the elite private sanitariums catering to the rich. Somehow, in a brief stint of sanity, she committed suicide and finally found the peace she’d sought for a very long time. Nick’s father, strong through the search for his son and the memorial service at the family crypt plus the time afterward, could not handle the loss of his wife. His life went into a tailspin, the man dying of depression and loneliness a year later. Alone, Nick buried himself in the family business. He went to LSU, getting a degree in business. At twenty-four and successful, he’d become wealthy in his own right but unfulfilled. Nick left the plantation in the capable hands of the family’s lawyers to take his college degree and go into the Navy where he became a member of the elite SEALs. After his hitch, Nick returned home, the estate still profitable and running by itself—Nick still restless. The business degree looked good on a resume but had gotten him nowhere. He applied to the New Orleans Police Department then worked his way up to the Special Investigations Unit, thanks in part to his SEAL training. He enjoyed it, deeply involved in several key busts and cases. Nick’s reputation in law enforcement became legendary throughout Louisiana. It had been widely held if Nick got a case, he would keep working on it until he solved it. Once his financial background had been forgotten, he’d been accepted with no question among the ranks. Nick made it up through the ranks to deputy chief—the youngest ever to accomplish this in the department’s history. Given command of the SIU and the complete loyalty of his men, Nick Buchannan had a reputation for being fair, backing an officer—without question—if they needed it. One catch—if crossed, Buchannan became meaner than a mad bear. This made his men fiercely loyal to him, creating an excellent working situation. They appreciated the small fact Buchannan would never ask anything of his men he himself would not do, giving them even more confidence and reason for their intensely loyal feelings. Everything worked out well until a case came across his desk that tested Nick to his limits. He and his partner had been assigned to take down a drug czar who, it had been confirmed, operated in a warehouse on the docks. Rare for a deputy chief to work a case like this because of rank, it intrigued Nick. In taking down the kingpin and his men, Nick took a hit in the back by an errant bullet. It lodged in the muscles by his spine, causing temporary paralysis from the waist down. Nick refused to believe it had happened to him and fought to get his life back under control. It took him a long time—a little over a year—to recover. While laid up, Nick wrote a novel dealing with a cop in the mountains of Colorado. The book broke onto the New York Times bestseller list, Nick again excelling at what he did. He retired from the department due to his back not healing the way it should have. He felt fine but his superiors remained wary, afraid of it endangering him or his men. He understood but not happy, he refused to accept the failure. What really angered him—his own body had let him down. One of the doctors who operated on him told him if he took a hit in just a certain way, he could be paralyzed for the rest of his life. Nick couldn’t handle it and became very good friends with anything able to take the pain away. That led to his meeting Laney, his life good again. * * * * He went into New Orleans one night to a club for another party with the bottle. He settled in at a rear table watching everything going on around him. The waiter served him his drink before two very attractive women came over to join him. He invited them to sit down with him and they did. The blonde moved close—too damned close! He stopped her from going over the line when he pushed her hand away from his leg. They decided he would be no fun and after a short while, they left him—Nick very relieved. He stood up to leave, figuring to call it an evening. Making his way to the exit, he saw her. His heart felt like it had stopped, his breathing very slow. Frozen, Nick stared at her. Time stood still as something told him this would be the future Mrs. Nicholas Buchannan. He couldn’t believe the beauty of her sapphire blue eyes, their fire and their devilish glimmer. Like Nick, she stood tall and slim with a gorgeous mane of very long jet-black hair. In his mind, she defined perfection and he knew then and there he had to have her. Do I stand a chance? Finally, he found the drive to move his feet forward, walking over to her and desperately praying he wouldn’t make an ass out of himself. “Hi, I’m Austin Nicholas Buchannan. My friends call me Nick.” “Aren’t you the author who wrote Murder on Pikes Peak?” “My one and only stab at being an author.” “You should write more. Your book’s really very good,” she commented, smiling. “Thank you, Miss…uh?” “Delaney Johnson…Laney.” “I take it you have a strong Irish tie?” She nodded. “So do I.” “Interesting,” she said, smiling again. He would learn later she’d been glad he hadn’t recognized her from TV. That had been five years ago and she had virtually saved his life. * * * * An actress, Delaney Johnson had a recurring role in an LA-based daytime soap and worked on finishing a feature film entitled Chasing Angels—a Civil War era piece. She admitted to wracking up a good many frequent flier miles. “It’s strange. I came in here, not looking for a date and now I don’t want to leave unless I’m on your arm,” she said, staring into his emerald green eyes then at him—tall and very well built, his dark hair just beginning to gray, his mustache giving him a devil-may-care look. Unbelievably, she enjoyed talking with the Nick Buchannan. She had read his book and really liked his work. She told him to write more and kept staring at him when a waiter served their drinks. “I’m sorry, I never ever do this!” she apologized, blushing and glad for the dim lighting because she felt her face hot as if on fire. “I’m just as guilty.” “Wow!” she said, fanning herself, already sensing the heat between them. “Should we go somewhere quieter?” he offered. She nodded and he guided her out of the club. They walked to his parked car then stood talking. People passed by them but they never noticed. Nick placed his hands on either side of her face and, while she gazed into his eyes, he kissed her. Sparks flew between them, Laney feeling the heat between them intensify. She’d had other men but nothing happened like this—ever! “Nick?” “Laney?” “Do you believe in love at first sight?” “Very much so. Why?” “I think I’m in love with you.” He gazed at her as she smiled back at him. “Will you marry me, Laney?” “Most definitely!” she exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms. “Are you sure?” he asked. She nodded, trying to catch her breath. “I’m a great believer in gut feelings. My first sight of you and I fell hard for you and we had yet to say a word to each other.” “Same here.” “When?” “When what?” “When do we get married?” “Is tomorrow too soon?” she asked. He shook his head, laughing. * * * * In Washington, Chase Earnhardt answered the phone just after midnight. “Yeah, what?” “Chase? Nick.” “This had better be good! You’ve interrupted an excellently decadent dream.” “I need a huge favor.” “What?” Chase asked, trying to get his wits together. “I need you to be my best man.” “What century, my friend?” “Tomorrow morning—actually later this morning.” “Today?” he yelled, bolting up in bed as if he’d been shot. “Are you…” “I’m quite serious, very sober and quite happy.” “Then I am your man, Nick. Congratulations! Who is the hapless victim to your charms?” “Delaney Johnson.” “The actress?” “He wants to know if you’re the actress?” Chase heard him say to someone. Chase laughed. “You mean you are marrying her and don’t know her?” “She said to say yes, she is.” “Amazing.” They had been friends since the Navy. When Nick returned to New Orleans, Earnhardt joined the Secret Service then retired to the private sector to consult or analyze and occasionally investigate some of the more difficult and intriguing cases calling for his special expertise. Standing six foot three and not overly muscular, he had sandy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a hellacious tan. Not a thing he wouldn’t do for Nick and vice versa, he made the flight from Washington to New Orleans, arriving by nine. No way would he miss his best friend’s marriage. * * * *
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Not one damned thing. Come here!” “Be careful. I’d hate to crush you!” “Never. You won’t,” he said, pulling her to him before kissing her. “I thank God each day you came into my life and now, with the baby on the way, my life is complete.” “How is it you always know the perfect things to say?” “Why, ma’am, it’s my heritage as a Southern gentleman and my wife is perfection.” “Whatever it is, it’s mine, you’re mine and I love you!” Nick grinned then stood, picked her up and took her upstairs to their bedroom. After gently laying her on their bed, he took his clothes off, leaving them on the floor where they fell. He went to his wife, removing the loose-fitting dress she wore then her lingerie. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked when he gently rolled her over to rub her back. Laney had been told about sleeping on her stomach during the later months of her pregnancy but she couldn’t sleep any other way. Nick massaged her back, Laney enjoying it immensely. “You always know what to do to make me feel blissfully happy.” “Baby, you are not that hard to please, believe me.” He began to kiss her back, the dampness on her skin sending chills through her. She turned over as Nick continued to love her. His lips at her neck, he took her to heaven with his touch. He gently took her breasts in his hands, his thumbs playing over her nipples. Laney pushed herself toward him, needing to be as close as possible to him. Nick laid her back down and continued his way down her body. Still holding her breasts, he worked his way to the one spot he knew would send her emotions out of control once he touched it. Her body shook out of control, her fingers entangled in his hair—Laney holding on for dear life. She pulled him to her, begging to kiss him. When his lips met hers, her eyes widened at the feel of him entering her, her body holding him as if she feared she would lose him. Ever so slowly, he moved back and forth within her. His pace quickened, his cock impatient inside her velvet warmth. They found heaven together, Laney screaming from the explosion she felt inside her body. Nick slid to her side and laid his head on her stomach. He felt the baby, active as ever, and it gave him one of the warmest sensations of his life. Laney had given him everything he could ever want and he loved her more than life itself. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, Nick’s hand resting on his wife’s stomach feeling their child’s kicking—life definitely good for them! |