Product Description Dear Listener, It is difficult for an author to choose a favorite from among her own books, especially when she has been lucky enough—as I have—to make a career out of doing what she loves. But some stories are memorable because they mark an important milestone in an author’s life, and for me, perhaps none is more special than Island Flame—my very first book. I was thrilled when it was published, and now, more than thirty years later, I am just as excited to share it again with you. Island Flame is a classic tale of romance on the high seas, featuring two extraordinary characters: the headstrong Lady Catherine Aldley and the legendary pirate Jonathan Hale. I don’t have to tell you that their tumultuous escapade sizzles with passion (lots of passion! ), but what I hope you will take away most from Cathy and Jonathan is that dreams do come true—in love and in life. Mine did, and I hope yours will too. I look forward to sharing many more adventures together in the future. Enjoy! Karen Robards From the Publisher "Ms. Robards seems to know instinctively our most secret thoughts and then dreams up the perfect scenario to give them free rein . . . the results are pure magic! " --Romantic Times "Karen Robards is one of the finest, most talented writers of romantic history today. Robards has the marvelous talent to zero in on the heart of erotic fantasy. . . No one writes with more fire. " --Romantic Times "One of those writers I buy without needing to read a review . . . The high tension [is] sustained throughout, keeping me glued to the pages. "--Johanna Lindsey Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Lady Catherine Aldley was beautiful, and she knew it. She was very much aware of the picture she made as she stood bracing herself against the rail on the deck of the Anna Greer, a light wind ruffling her hair and the setting sun turning its red-gold splendor to a vivid flame. The brisk sea air had whipped color into her cheeks, and her blue eyes sparkled. She was only seventeen, and had been pampered and protected all her short life. Since her mother’s death ten years before, she had been raised by a nanny and a succession of governesses whose duty in life had been to teach their young charge the things that were important for a lady to know in 1842: to play the harp and the pianoforte, to execute insipid watercolors, to speak the French tongue like a native, and to appear sweetly mindless and childlike at all times. In this last, the good ladies were only partially successful. Cathy could assume the role of a gentle, well-bred young lady very well when it suited her, but when it did not, she was a termagant. Her explosions of rage had sent more than one governess running from the house in tears, vowing never to return. Which, in Cathy’s opinion, was just as well. She had no desire to learn anything that was contained between the covers of a book. She wanted to live life, not read about it! “The girl’s plain ignorant! ” her father snorted indignantly on one occasion, and it was perfectly true. Although her various governesses had labored long and hard, trying to instill the rudiments of education into her saucy head, Cathy remained sublimely indifferent. When it was discovered that the only use she had made of her learning was to read racy novels, her long-suffering father gave up. Cathy was allowed to dispense with the tiresome business of being educated. Instead, she learned to dance, and her step was the lightest for miles around. She learned to walk with her toes turned slightly inward so that her flounced skirts swayed like a bell. She learned to smile entrancingly through her lashes, and to laugh, like a tinkling, silver bell, at the men who begged her for a kind word, or, more daringly, a kiss. Most important of all, she learned to hide her true nature from the men who swarmed around. In company, especially the company of eligible youn