THE VISCOUNT'S ADDICTION*
by Scottie Barrett
*This book was previously published, but has been expanded for Samhain Publishing.

Genre: Historical Romance, Red Hots!
ISBN: 1-59998-619-1
Length: Novel
Cover art by Anne Cain

Available for pre-order in paperback: Amazon
Available in ebook format at Samhain Publishing.

EXCERPT:

The unbearable throbbing in his head let Ryder know he’d lived to see another day. He inched out from under the bare, long leg that lay across his chest, trying not to wake the woman to whom it was attached. Her small foot twitched as his rough beard scraped her toes. Once free, he rolled over and found, to his surprise, a second naked woman sleeping soundly and hugging the edge of the bed. He maneuvered over her. Once his feet were firmly planted on the ground, he lifted his head carefully. It felt too heavy for his neck. He had no memory of the evening and wondered if it had taken two whores to get his cock to stand. Opium played hell with his erections. It had become a rare feat for even his own practiced hand to bring him to climax.

He moved to the window and folded back the dust-coated drapes, allowing a sliver of sunlight into the room. The floor was littered with clothes, bed sheets and empty gin bottles. Yesterday’s wash water stagnated in the ewer basin. Ryder splashed the stale water onto his face. He lifted his head and dragged his wet fingers through his hair. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the warped mirror on the wall and was repulsed by what he saw. His skin had taken on an unholy pallor, a startling contrast to his black hair. There were dark, blue-tinged circles under his eyes and his pupils were eerily large, a sign he’d been without opium for too long. He looked as if he’d just risen from the grave.

In prison he’d often lost the thread of time. Even now the days blurred together. But he could name the year and he knew that the man staring back at him was only in his late twenties. Gone, it seemed, were any traces of innocence, replaced by an alien hardness he found difficult to accept. He reached for his breeches and pulled them on. Unable to find his shirt amongst the tangle of discarded garments on the floor, he reached for his long, black coat hanging from the bedpost.

He had won the coat wagering on a fight between a boisterous naval officer and a tough-talking farrier. The blackness of it had suited his mood perfectly.

He fished around in the pockets and produced enough coins to get him into some card games at the tavern. With a little luck, he would be able to buy some twists of opium rather than the weak tincture the apothecary concocted for him.

An icy wind filtered through the star-like crack in the window. He brought the collar of the coat up around his ears and braced himself for the frigid outside air. He glanced at the two naked beauties and with a shrug tossed his coins on the bed and reached under the mattress to retrieve the last gold buttons from his waistcoat.

Quietly, he shut the door behind him. The block that housed all the seedier trade shops was only an alley away. He stopped in front of the pawnbroker’s and inspected his wares. He needed another pair of boots; he was starting to feel the ground through his old ones. Unfortunately, his desire for opium trumped his need for warm feet and the pawning of the buttons would not afford him both.

THE VISCOUNT'S ADDICTION

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