Buy "The Mudlark"

It's just Izzy's kind of luck. The first time she straggles home sopping wet after wading into a freezing stream to save a drowning kitten, she walks right into the handsomest man she has ever seen. He's also the most arrogant man she's ever met. And worse, her father has been conspiring with his father on their marriage since they were babes. Never mind that she had planned to marry Donald. Likewise, Tristan has no intention of marrying a loose screw like Izzy, who, when she is not driving him crazy, might expose his secret injury -- the one that could cost him his Guards commission. The only thing they have in common is their grim determination not to marry each other, and their only escape is the plot they concoct, a double elopement with a twist... But oh, how Izzy intrigues him, makes him laugh and feel alive again. This was not in the the plan... Somewhere along the way, Tristan learns to replace his deep immense sorrow and loss with love and joy.

"Their escapades through the ballrooms of London and over the countryside toward Gretna Green offer rare pleasure--especially when romance tantalizes the pair into some compromising situations...Delle Jacobs sings a lovely song."
- Reviewed by Cindy Harrison for Romantic Times magazine, 4 stars!

"The interaction between Izzy and Tristan was magnetic. The two played off each other quite nicely. Dashes of humor tossed into their dialogue were the perfect complements to an enthralling relationship."
- Reviewed by Natasha for aromancereview.com

"A splendid book, MUDLARK kept me on the edge of my seat cheering and wondering what might happen next."
- Reviewed by Rebecca Weaver, The Word on Romance

"...great fun to read!!! I had many moments where I was laughing out loud! The dialogue was witty and sparkling."
- Reviewed by Susan, for Love Romances

Excerpt:

"What are you reading?"

She jerked free of her reverie, wondering how long he had watched her without her knowing. "Nothing important," she said, knowing he would tease her when he saw the title.

"Read it to me."
"Oh, you would not be interested. It is quite boring, actually." She closed the small volume and bent down to return it to her valise.

"But I would like you to read it, anyway. What is it about?"

"Geometry," she said, and wondered whatever had possessed her to make such a claim.

"Geometry? I did not realize you were a student of Mathematics."

"Oh, I am not, really, but I might need it if I should find myself teaching children again. I only meant to brush up a bit."

His slaty blue eyes narrowed and his mouth quivered at its corners the way it did when he was up to mischief. "Read it, anyway," he insisted.

"Well, it is just about triangles and curves and the like. A very dull read, aloud. I cannot imagine why you would be interested."

"But as I am, surely you could oblige me."

He lunged for the book, which she barely snatched away in time as she launched her fiercest glare at him. He sat back and folded his arms, his eyes lit with that mischievous glint.

"Well, if you insist. It says here, uh, the sum of the two sides squared equals the square of the hypotenuse. There, now are you satisfied?"

"Oh, I might be, if that were correct. However, it would more correctly read, the sum of the two squared sides of a right triangle equals the square of the hypotenuse."

"Oh. Well, I must have got it wrong. I'm afraid I shall never excel at Mathematics, if I did nothing else but study it. Well, there surely must be something more appealing to do." Izzy endeavored once more to slide the embarrassing book into her valise. "When shall we reach our next stop, do you think?"

"Let me see it." Laughing, he lunged across her lap, groping for the little novel as she swung it out of his reach. But his long arms outreached hers, and she shrieked a shrill cry somewhere between desperation and laughter as he pinned her to the seat with his shoulder and snatched the book from her struggling hand.

"Ah," he said, "now let us find out what is so fascinating about Geometry. " And his tongue came out to lick over his lips while he held her off with one hand and flipped through the pages with the other. "Oh, Pythagoras, how you have changed! Why, my dear, I do believe this is indeed about curves and angles, but I am afraid they are the variety that were much beyond old Pythagoras' domain."

"Give it back," she demanded, and grabbed at the book, knowing her cause was already lost, and she, defenseless against the subtle pressure that pushed her downward onto the seat.

"For example," he continued, utterly ignoring her demand, "he has no formula for this curve," and he nibbled playfully at the juncture of her shoulder and neck. "Nor this," said he, as he ran his tongue within the shell of her ear.

Izzy squealed with delight as a shiver ran up her spine. "Let me try that," she said, and pushed against him as she tried to rise.