Post an Excerpt, Any Excerpt. Ok, back to normal for a month. This is your chance to shine, so post any excerpt of no more than 500 words, and, if you have them, your buy links. Don’t have buy links, post your website, blog, Twitter and Facebook info.
Here is mine from my debut novel, The Seduction of Lady Phoebe.
Marcus arrived at Cranbourne Place late on the day of the fight. As he jumped down from his curricle, Amabel, his sister, appeared at the door, clearly delighted to see him. She was as fair as he was dark.
She wore a gauzy white day gown that seemed to float around her as she gracefully descended the stairs of the portico and held out her hands in greeting. They’d exchanged letters and portraits over the years, but the last time he’d seen her she’d still been in the schoolroom and wore braids down her back.
“Marcus, do please come in. I am so glad you are here. How have you been? You are not too tired, are you? Do you wish to rest? But no, you have too much energy. You must tell me everything.”
He chuckled. “What a goosecap you are, Amabel. I suppose I can’t muss your hair now that you wear it in such a fashionable style. I’ll tell you everything as soon as you give me a cup of tea, and we may be comfortable.”
She tucked her arm in his and led him into the house. A large man stood in the entrance. Geoffrey, Earl of Cranbourne, his brother-in-law, was easily as tall as Marcus, in his mid-thirties, and dressed for the country in buckskin breeches, and a loose shirt, waistcoat and hunting jacket.
From under lowered brows, the earl gave Marcus a hard look. “Lord Marcus, welcome. I am pleased to finally meet you. You may come with me, sir. We need to discuss the reason my sister found it necessary to leave her home rather than meet you.”
Avaliable for pre-order on the following sites:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/10kE1aI
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/175Kkho
Amazon Germany: http://amzn.to/XIAMG3
B&N: http://bit.ly/XIAT4A
Kensington: http://bit.ly/Z5XEAi
ellaquinnauthor
This is mine from Shotgun Bride.
Mike struggled to open his eyes. Grogginess wafted through his mind. He tried to rub the dull ache on his head but something held his arms. Cotton filled his mouth. He licked his dry lips and tasted blood. Smelled smoke. Voices filled with urgency echo in the distance but he couldn’t make out the words.
He eased one eye open, then the other. He blinked to clear the blur and shook his head. Pain drove his eyes shut. Heat licked at him.
“Come on, boss, wake up.”
That voice. It sounded familiar. He forced his eyes open again but held still.
“That’s it, Mike. Kathleen needs you.”
Kathleen? He smiled. Oh yeah, she wanted him to make love to her again. His sweet, passionate wife. His eyes drifted lower.
“No, Mike, fight it off.”
“Juan?”
“Yes, boss. Get your eyes open and keep ‘em open.”
Mike tried to get up but his legs didn’t work. A frosty chill cramped his gut. Something was terribly wrong. “Kathleen?”
http://www.amazon.com/Shotgun-Bride-ebook/dp/B00BT4GDD4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365102716&sr=8-1&keywords=karen+lopp
Very nice excerpt, Karen!!
Ella, hope you are planning to visit Tidbit Tuesday on May 7th where you post 10 lines and a link! http://tinyurl.com/TidbitTuesday2 hope to see you there!
I will make a point of it, Patrick. Thank you for asking.
Thanks for the opportunity, Ella! This is from Bewitched By His Kiss, which comes out on Wednesday — May Day! Setup: Our heroine, Lucasta, has come out at dawn to protect her cousin Peony, who is rolling naked in the drew on May Day morning..
Lucasta was out of breath by the time she rounded the eastern edge of the wood. Somewhere along there a path led to the so-called Enchanted Meadow. The lightening of the sky, along with the morning clamor of birds, meant that dawn had arrived, so hopefully Peony was already getting the rolling over with.
Lucasta wished it were lighter, because paths into the wood were notoriously hard to find even in daylight. Peony attributed this to the magical character of the wood; according to her, people who weren’t supposed to reach the meadow, didn’t. However, Lucasta had made her way through the wood on numerous occasions by applying logic and perseverance, which were much more reliable—and safer—than magic. She eyed the darkness between two massive old oaks, certain the path was—
Out of the twilight a horse and rider loomed.
Intent on finding the way to the meadow, she hadn’t noticed their approach, and now they were almost upon her. Judging by his hat and greatcoat, the substantial male figure astride a dark horse wasn’t one of Mr. Whistleby’s keepers, looking out for poachers.
Whoever he was, he shouldn’t be here. Lucasta gripped the pistol in her pocket and strode forward, intending to tell him so.
***
“Miss Barnes,” said David, the Earl of Elderwood. “Better hurry, hadn’t you? Dawn is upon us and the moment is nigh.”
She froze. He couldn’t see her clearly in the gloaming, but sensed the distress and anger surging within her like a swarm of wasps. He had expected the anger, but the distress woke an answering unease within him. He didn’t want to upset her, but she’d refused more customary methods of communication, such as civil conversation. Now there was no other way.
“What the devil are you doing here?” she snarled.
“Surely Alexis told you of our impending visit,” he said in his softest, most nonchalant voice. His close friend, Sir Alexis Court, was Lucasta’s betrothed. They’d been engaged for close to three years. They were likely to tie the knot sometime soon.
Whenever David considered the possibility that Lucasta might actually marry Alexis, he found himself possessed of a murderous rage. David liked Alexis. He didn’t want to harm him, much less kill him, and besides, Alexis deserved better. Or rather, different. Lucasta was a single-minded, unyielding shrew. She would destroy Alexis, a decent fellow if ever there was one.
David, on the other hand, was notoriously indecent. Not only that, he wanted Lucasta. No, more than that—Lucasta belonged to him, whether she liked it or not. She was his.
“Go on, sweetheart,” he drawled. “The pathway’s not between those two trees this morning, but to the left of them. Get your clothes off, and I’ll be right there to claim you.”
He didn’t need more light to see her glare. She didn’t deign to answer his quip, but as long as the memory of May Day morning three years ago was besieging her, so far, so good.
Buy links:
Amazon.com: http://tinyurl.com/ccxvmx2
Barnes and Noble: http://tinyurl.com/c3z983q
Harlequin.com http://tinyurl.com/d5m3tat
Oooh, Barbara, I can’t wait for this book. I’m taking time off on Wednesday just to read it!
LOL. Thanks, Ella. I hope you enjoy it. 🙂
I always love your books. I just want them to be loooonger.
Heh. Well, I’m working on a longer historical, but other things keep interrupting me. Uh, like a 100K word contemporary paranormal I just revised and handed in. I feel totally wrung out!!
I’m going crazy waiting for your books to be released
Here’s an excerpt – g rated – from my newly released Capri’s Fate
Capri is flying to a remote island on a private corporate jet with a hot sexy pilot.
“Ms. Gray. We’ve fifth in line for takeoff. No wandering around the aircraft until we’re in flight. Settle back and enjoy the flight.”
She returned to reading her ebook. The roar of the engines enticed her to glance out the window. The forward shift of the jet pushed her back. A few moments later, she heard the landing gear retract into the belly of the plane. At last! We’re on our way. Hotel bed, look out, I’m coming! She picked up her glass and swallowed the last of her wine.
Having finished the book she was reading, Capri tucked her tablet away and stared at the door blocking her view to the cockpit. She picked up her empty glass, walked to the galley, and filled it, then knocked on the cockpit door. “Anybody in there?”
“No.”
She raised her eyebrows and opened the door. “No? No is not the answer the passenger wants to here.”
Captain Hall sat facing the window with his fingers interlocked behind his head. He lowered his arms, turned his head and smiled, then pointed to the empty co-pilot’s seat.
Capri stepped closer. “Is it okay that I’m in here? You know, FAA rules and all.”
“It’s fine.”
She slipped into the seat and cast her gaze over the numerous dials, switches and display screens. “Oh, wow. Probably should be able to think of something more intelligent but…” She shook her head. “Look at all the electronics.”
“Flying 101. This is the throttle.” He gripped his hand around it. “Think of it as the gas pedal.” He placed his hands on the metal object in front of them. “This is the steering wheel of the plane. And see this.” He pointed to a small screen in front of him, blue on the top and brown on the bottom. “When it is level like that, life is good.”
Capri waved her hand at the other devices. “What about all these?”
“Haven’t the foggiest?”
“Pardon?” She laughed. “You are not instilling confidence in your passenger here.”
“Well then, my telling you that I only got to chapter two in Flying for Dummies is probably not a good thing?” His eyes twinkled with delight.
Tweeted
Very cute, Daryl. Thank you so much for posting.
Loved your excerpt. It sounds like it is going to be a great book.
Here is one from Circles Divided – the 2nd book in Circles Trilogy
He watched the plane disappear into the clouds. His sadness fading as a numbness filled the void. He remembered the first time he saw Julie, the first time they spoke, touched, kissed and made love. Long ago, he’d told Paul he didn’t dream anymore. He’d lied. Julie was his dream. Memories of her would keep him warm on cold nights and give him comfort when he was alone. With a silent wish that one day one dream might come true, he recited from a sad heart:
She possessed my being,
Gave me a future
A life.
Our souls intertwined
Fantasies fulfilled
But
Reality intruded.
One’s dream realized
Another’s destroyed
A heart broken
The pain –
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BBKNDAC
Haunting and lovely, Victoria. Thank you for stopping by.
Can’t get enough of Phoebe and Marcus!!
Here’s a little excerpt of my WIP.
Heedless of her skirts, Victoria knelt beside him and took his cold hands in hers. “Marcus you must look and listen to me, now.” The young man drew in a shuddering breath and lifted his eyes to hers, locking his gaze with hers. She saw the sheen of tears.
“Your father was-is a monster, yes. But you are not him.” He made a noise as if to interrupt, but she put a hand up. “Wait please, let me finish. If we are the sins of our fathers, than I, too, would be cursed, for in my eyes, there is no greater sinner than the man who was my sire.”
He gripped her hand tighter and squeezed it. She knew that Tristan had told him of the abuse she had suffered. “So you see my dear friend, we are survivors in life. And as survivors we must choose to be happy and live, for only that will make our hearts heal again and free us. We must choose love.”
They sat staring at each other, and she leaned over and kissed his cheek. He started and smiled a sad smile at her. “Thank you my lady. You make me wish for things that are impossible.”
The door to the drawing room opened and a shaft of light spilled out. In the doorway was the tall, lean frame of Viscount Dewhurst. The two men held a look for a heartbeat, then Grentham turned back to Victoria.
She was already standing and a small smile played upon her lips. “I have always been jealous of Tristan that he has his band of brothers. I think I would like to have a brother.” She looked over at Dewhurst, who had walked over closer to the pair and smiled. “Or perhaps two.”
On impulse, she took Grentham’s hands in hers. “Marcus, would you do me the honor, as my brother, of walking me down the aisle tomorrow? I can think of no other man I would rather have by my side.”
His lips curved in the first real smile she had seen on his face in months. He took her hand and kissed it. “I would be honored my dear sister. It will be nice to finally have a family.” Once again a look of ineffable sadness shuttered his face as he glanced at Dewhurst.
With a burst of clarity, Victoria understood.
Nancy
http://www.rakesroguesandromance.com
Very nice, Nancy. I love where this story is going.
You book sounds fab, and thanks for the opportunity! Here’s an excerpt from Sea Change, which has been getting a lot of love lately. It was a finalist for the Golden Quill Award.
The only instance in which the crew of the Fancy differed from the crew of the Lady Jane, she reflected as she washed her hands, was the higher incidence of venereal disease she’d been called on to treat today. Clearly, these men had never heard that “A moment with Venus may mean a lifetime with Mercury”, and she would have to lay in more supplies of mercury salts and guaiacum for whomever would follow her in treating the men of the Fancy.
She was still thinking about it when Captain Fletcher entered sick bay.
“I believe I have seen almost every privateer’s privates today, Captain.”
“Can you say ‘privateer’s privates’ three times, fast?”
“No,” but she was smiling. And then she frowned. She did not need to be getting friendly with her captor.
“You won’t be seeing mine, Doctor,” the captain said matter-of-factly.
Now, that piqued her curiosity. For purely academic reasons.
“Really? And why would that be? Do you not engage in the same activities as your men?”
“I trust you are asking this in your professional capacity, Dr. Alcott. The reason is, I always use a French letter.”
“I have heard of such devices, but I have never seen one used!”
“I am not going to demonstrate for you.”
Charley tried not to be disappointed. She was only asking in the name of research.
“You always use one?”
He looked at her as if gauging how far he wished to continue this conversation regarding his leisure time activities.
“Yes, always, unless I am with widows I know very well. Seeing men pissing blood and pus is more effective than a parson’s best hellfire-and-damnation sermon to keep me from boarding the fireships in port.”
“That is an extremely prudent attitude, Captain. My workload would be lessened considerably if that way of thinking infected the men.”
Fletcher shrugged.
“Life is short, Doctor. Most of these men would rather visit the school of Venus whenever they can than worry about the possibility of a disease. Odds are a fall from the yards or a piece of shot will finish them off sooner.”
“Speaking of my workload–”
But Captain Fletcher wasn’t paying attention to her, he was walking around the sick bay, looking at how she’d arranged her tools and her chest, the neatly rolled bandages, the texts she’d brought with her lined up on the small desk attached to the wall. Her journal where she kept daily records of the men she’d treated and problems she’d encountered was still open, the ink drying.
“You write a neat hand, Doctor,” the captain said as he picked up her journal. She would have snatched it from him because it was private information about the men, but they were his crew. And there was no personal information in her journal that could give away her identity.
http://www.amazon.com/Sea-Change-Darlene-Marshall/dp/1611249589/ref=la_B002BLWIJ2_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367243646&sr=1-1
http://www.amberquill.com/SeaChange.html
Thank you so much. Darlene, I remember when you sold Sea Change. I love your excerpt.
Thanks for the opportunity to post an excerpt. This is from The Wolf’s Daughter, available on Amazon.
“What happened with Tala?”
Matt leaned back on Jack’s stained microfiber recliner. Some inane situation comedy filled the television screen. He rubbed the chair arm and wondered what the color had been when it was new. He shook his head. “Look, I know you’re my best buddy, but I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to bottle all that up?”
Matt let his hand drop to the side, and Rocky, Jack’s Labrador lying next to him, raised his head and licked it. He absently patted his head. “No, but I don’t know what else to do with it.”
“Why don’t you contact her?”
“I already sent her a note saying I didn’t want to see her again.” He’d leave out the part about asking her to leave town as soon as possible.
“That doesn’t sound like you, giving up so easily.”
He sat up straight. “Oh yeah, Jack. Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
Jack put up his hands. “Okay, simmer down.”
Matt pounded a fist on the armrest. “It’s just that when I was with her in the restaurant, I got the same feelings as that night in the graveyard after the prom. I felt this energy surge through my body, and I-I had to get away from her before…something happened.”
“You were probably just nervous. You know, you finally saw the woman again whom you’ve dreamed about all these years.”
“That would all be plausible if you were talking about a normal person.” Or persons. But in spite of everything, he wanted to blame the whole thing on himself. “No, it was more than that with me.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I left.”
“And then what?”
“I drove home and went to sleep.” The truth, at least part of it. He had awakened in the morning and couldn’t remember how he had gotten home or what had occurred during the night.
“Well, all I know is you sure dumped Megan fast when Vanessa told you Tala was coming back to town.”
“You’re right, and at least I found out Megan’s not the one. But that doesn’t mean Tala is, not after what happened again.”
Jack shook his head. “I don’t care what you say. Seems to me this is unfinished business.”
“It’s unfinished business that’s none of your business.” Matt stormed out, realizing he was acting like a jerk, but kept walking anyway without looking back.
Patricia La Barbera
http://www.patricialabarbera.com
Wonderful excerpt, Patricia. Thank you for posting.
Thanks for the opportunity, Ella! This excerpt is from my new time travel romance, Thoroughly Modern Amanda.
Her footsteps sounded hollow on the unfinished wood floor as she paced. He lifted his gaze to study her. Her skirts nearly touched the freshly sanded floor as she braced her hands on either side of her hips. Her brow furrowed, lips twisted into an expression of anxiety.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She turned and faced him. “Sorry?”
“For putting you to all this trouble.” He realized he didn’t even know his rescuer’s name. “I’m Jack Lawton, by the way and you are…?”
She pursed her full lips. “Miss Montgomery.”
“You don’t have a first name?” he asked.
“Sir, we are strangers to one another.” Her face reddened.
“But I gave you my first name.” He spread his hands.
She propped her hands on her hips. “My father would have a conniption fit if I gave my Christian name to a strange man. On the other hand, my step-mother…” Her lips curved into the hint of a smile. “…always introduces herself by her first name to the consternation of my father.” She lifted her chin as if appraising Jack. “I’m Amanda.”
Jack smiled but winced as a shot of pain sliced through his skull. “Amanda Montgomery. I’ll be sure to remember that name.” He lifted his hand. “Now, if you could assist me to the front door.”
She stretched her arm down toward him, and he used the wall to hoist himself so he wouldn’t put all his weight on her.
A brief wave of dizziness halted his progress, but he steadied himself. “Lead on.”
By the time they reached the door, he realized how eerily familiar this house looked. Almost as if the house he’d been in had traveled back in time. Could the new owner have changed his mind and decided to rebuild the place?
Amanda threw open the door.
Jack’s mouth gaped. Not only was his car gone, but the entire block was transformed. What had been a paved walk and blacktop street was now packed dirt.
Heat rose to his cheeks. “Where’s my car? Did they tow it away to tear up the street?” He couldn’t have been unconscious long enough.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Amanda’s gaze scanned the road.
Jack froze in the doorway, not sure what to do. This was insane. He had no car, no cell phone or ID. If he made it to his house, would it even be there? For one chilling moment, he wasn’t sure.
Amanda glanced at him, then back at the road, not saying anything for a long moment. “Mr. Lawton, if you’re able to walk a short distance, I’ll take you to my home. My step-mother may know how to help you.”
Thoroughly Modern Amanda is available from The Wild Rose Press http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=176_135&products_id=5074
Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Thoroughly-Modern-Amanda-ebook/dp/B00AQAIHHW/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1355948640&sr=1-1&keywords=Thoroughy+Modern+Amanda
Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/thoroughly-modern-amanda-susan-macatee/1114008539?ean=2940016112596
and All Romance Ebooks https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thoroughlymodernamanda-1026307-141.html
Wonderful excerpt, Susan. Thank you for coming by.
Hi–
Here is mine, from In His Own Time, Book 2 of the Lineage (time travel historical). You don’t need to have read the first to enjoy the second.
Banderan muttered something equally polite, and then his eyes locked on Victoria. Something passed through the black, gold-specked depths, although she’d swear it wasn’t recognition. Rather, it was almost the same look he’d had right before he’d kissed her at the tomb in Egypt. Victoria tilted her chin up and met his gaze head on, mindful of Nicolai’s advice. Don’t shy away. Make him notice you. And, she added silently, don’t let him intimidate you. She was a Lineage agent. She would not fail.
“I am honored to meet you, Señor Ojeda.” Victoria extended her hand for the obligatory kiss, wishing instead she could slap him with it.
“The pleasure is mine, señora,” he said smoothly, his accent blending with those around him. His hand and kiss were lighter than she expected.
Ana nearly swooned. Poor Roberto, Victoria thought. Forgotten for a smooth charmer with a seduce-me gaze and voice. If only she knew the truth.
Victoria gestured to the table in front of her. “Can I tempt you with something to eat? I’m sure you must be famished from such a long journey. Perhaps some carne or pollo asada? Or does your taste run to more spicy fare?”
“I tend to prefer things with a little more”—he paused, drawing the word out—“flavor.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Victoria noticed one of the aunts nod approvingly, while the other patted her hair with what could almost be called a coquettish wink.
With perhaps a too large smile, Victoria reached up and twirled a lock of hair around her fingers and blinked slowly at Banderan, the closest she could come to an eyelash flutter. “I think I can accommodate you. If you’ll give me a moment?”
“Certainly.”He turned to Ana, who had been hanging on his every unspoken word. The pigeons moved in closer, gesturing to the musicians at the far side of the courtyard. His attention and dances were claimed.
Victoria’s smile changed to an evil grin as she reached under the table for the jar of habanero chiles she’d been saving for Lalo, one of the oldest and senior ranch hands. He preferred his food with a little kick, as he boasted it was the only way he could taste it anymore. Banderan wanted spicy. He would get scorching.
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lineage-BookStrand-Publishing-Romance-ebook/dp/B00B4HT18A/ref=sr_1_1_bnp_1_kin?ie=UTF8&qid=1367256373&sr=8-1&keywords=in+his+own+time+melissa+jarvis
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-his-own-time-the-lineage-2-melissa-jarvis/1114293975?ean=9781622425617
Website: http://www.melissajarvis.net
Lovely excerpt, Ella. Here’s a bit from Betrothal, that released April 19th.
“It has been decreed by His Majesty that on the first day the festivities will begin with a procession of ladies and knights of King Arthur’s court, starting at the Tower of London and winding through the town out to the lists. There are to be twenty-five knights on the king’s side who will joust and fight in a pas d’armes. So there needs be twenty-five ladies as well, to escort them to the field.”
She nodded again. “Princess Joanna rides in this procession.” Her part in the festivities had been determined last week. Did he have anything truly new to impart?
“You have been chosen to be one of the ladies.”
Alyse’s mouth dropped open and a thrill coursed through her. “But I am only Princess Joanna’s attendant, Sir Geoffrey. Usually such honors are reserved for the queen and Princess Isabella’s ladies, or the Duchesses and Countesses in the Royal Family. Why did they choose me?
“Because I am to be one of the knights, and I begged a boon of the king to allow you to be my lady.”
She stared at him in shock, almost unbelieving, though she knew he would not lie about such a thing. To think she owed such an honor to the man she would soon call husband, that he had asked the king himself to grant the favor, made her heart beat an unsteady march in her chest. Alyse parted her lips to thank him when he swooped forward, secured her chin in his hand and kissed her.
Strangely soft, yet very sweet, his touch sent a searing bolt straight to her stomach, setting it afire. After moments that seemed an eternity, his mouth slackened on hers as though he would release her. Then he flicked the tip of his tongue across the hard-pressed seam of her mouth, testing for another invitation.
With a gasp she jumped back, drawing a chuckle from Geoffrey, who had the grace to glance around to make sure they had not been observed. “Be not discomfited, sweet. We are safe in our conversation.”
“’Twas not in our conversation that I feared harm, my lord.” Lord, ’twas difficult to sound outraged when she could still feel his lips on hers.
“Come, my lady, ’twas only courtly affection I did show you.” Geoffrey’s words might have been believable if not for the wicked grin that accompanied them. “And I have one more piece of news for you ere I go.”
She took a step back, and Geoffrey laughed softly. “Nay, ’tis only that I would have you decide which knight of the Round Table you would accompany to the field. You may choose any save Arthur or Lancelot, for those are reserved for King Edward and the Prince of Wales.”
He had struck her speechless again. To allow her to choose their roles… The enormity of the task soaked into her.
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Betrothal-Time-Enough-Love-ebook/dp/B00CF6UZFW/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1367256637&sr=1-1&keywords=betrothal
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/307838
Thanks, Ella!
That’s wonderful, Jenna. Thank you for coming by.
About halfway across the room, I hear a noise. The realization that I’m not alone causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. To accelerate my errand so I can get out as soon as possible, I quicken my pace. But fear overtakes me when I realize that the further I go, the louder the noise becomes. All of a sudden, my heart is pounding and sweat breaks out on my forehead; I regret not turning back when I had the chance.
To make matters worse, the back room is completely dark. There’s not a gas lamp in sight. Wanting to finish with the task and get out, I quicken my pace. I race through the doorway until—wham! I collide into something hard that knocks the breath out of me and sends me toppling backwards. I hit the ground on my backside, send pain shooting throughout my body. When I open my eyes, all I see are stars and little else. Nearby, the cake platter hits the ground with a clang, scattering cake pieces everywhere. And then I sense something moving nearby in the darkness. Something alive. Whatever I crashed into has also toppled over and is lying only a few feet away from me. I rub my eyes and try to focus, peering into the darkness, yet terrified of what I might find. And then, my worst nightmare comes true. There is a man lying on the ground who appears to be just as startled as I am. When our eyes meet, I detect a raw almost animalistic fear.
Quickly, the man jumps to his feet, looking around frantically as if expecting more interlopers. He is confused, disoriented, his breathing is heavy and sweat is pouring down the sides of his face, like a bull about to be slaughtered. By the look of his dirty, wrinkled clothing and scraggly beard, I take him to be a vagrant, possibly a thief. And the thought occurs to me that if the man has come here to steal, and I inadvertently thwarted his chance, my life could be in danger.
To find out what happens next, read “Spy Island”:
http://www.amazon.com/Spy-Island-ebook/dp/B00AZRLXV8/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1367257582&sr=8-1
Hi Ella, thanks for the opportunity to share an excerpt of my latest release “The CEO Gets Her Man”
Excerpt:
Continually jabbing at the lift button probably wouldn’t make it come any faster, but Debra tried anyway. Every second counted. About to dive for the stairs instead, the ding of the lift stayed her movement. Bouncing from foot to foot while the doors inched open, Debra burst through the widening gap and punched the down button.
Thank goodness no-one was around. She should be able to keep out of sight of the reception staff if she stuck close to the wall and nipped around the corner. Then a dash across the dark car park to the staff quarters and she’d be safe.
Slinking out of the lift she did exactly that. Hugging the wall she backed cautiously around the corner, pausing when she neared the staff doorway to take a relieved breath. Grinning at her achievement of exiting the VIP suites without being seen she spun around to leap for the door–and ploughed into a dark blue brick-like wall.
The “wall” barely budged despite the whack exploding every last ounce of breath from her. Warmth tingled the hand inadvertently slipped beneath the blue telling her this was no ordinary brick wall. Her fingers registered a steady thump-thump-thump.
With a winded ache of rising panic imprisoned somewhere deep in her chest her eyes crept upwards…past the crisp white shirt with its perfectly Windsor-knotted blue tie…past a thick brown column of skin…past the closely shaven squarish chin and slightly crooked nose. She absently wondered if that nose was a result of a rugby injury, some permanent physical reminder of his playing days.
Her mind flew back but so many years had passed since she’d even thought about the hunky All Black she couldn’t remember whether his photos showed that bump on his nose or not. She trembled as she found herself where she’d once dreamed of being–in his arms.
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Hi Anne. You’re very welcome! Thank you for posting.
Ella, what a wonderful excerpt!
I’m going to grab a cup of coffee and read the others.
How lovely to read all these excerpts in one place! So, here goes my Regency Historical, IN THE ARMS OF AN EARL, out on Kindle now but on every other e-reader and in paperback June 7….
“You are right. I did have a realistic dream. I just wanted to know whom I should thank for my peaceful night–my phantom nurse, or you.”
He seemed to hang on any word she might utter. Her heart raced, her palms itched with perspiration. Perhaps if she spoke the right words, she would be his in a fortnight.
But those words would be lies. No matter how much she wanted to be with him, she could not betray his decency. Reluctantly, she shook her head. Her chest felt too tight, as if an invisible force was squeezing her from within.
“You were asleep, Colonel Blakeney,” she said at last, unable to look into his eyes. “I heard you cry out and thought you might be ill. I was going to summon Colonel Parker, but I…” I wanted you to myself. “You clearly needed some assistance, and I gave it.”
He gave her a shame-faced smile. “Thank you for your discretion. I do not often drink spirits, unless the pain is very bad. I wish I had more self-control and will endeavor to find it in the future.”
She should take the opportunity to leave the room before she learned anymore of his personal habits he might wish to disclose. A young lady had her reputation to protect, and, even though she sensed the colonel was not the sort to press his advantage, it was all very unusual. One timid look into his earnest brown eyes settled her decision.
“Have you not tried any poultices for the pain?” She recalled several of Doctor Adams’ receipts. Perhaps the cook would allow her to make some up for him later.
He shrugged. “Nothing seems to work. I distract myself, but….”
A new sense of purpose came out of nowhere. She was on a path to relieving him any way she could. “If you like, I will go to the kitchens and find something for you. There is a lavender infusion we can try, or perhaps one with rosemary.”
He seemed amused at her enthusiasm. “You are very kind. But I do not wish to trouble you.”
“It is no trouble.” She clenched her hands at her side, scolding her eagerness. One of the servants approached to clear away the breakfast things, and they stepped out of the doorway and into the hall.
“You are a true angel to think of it. In the meantime, may we proceed to the drawing room? I have found there is nothing better than music to soothe my aches. Do you have any compositions of your own?”
“I have a few little songs, but nothing you would….”
“I would love to hear them,” he interrupted, his smile so charming she could not deny him. They walked together to the drawing room, and she sat at the bench, mildly disappointed when he took a seat by the window.
Once she looked up and met his gaze. She had no idea how long he’d been watching her. A brief smile crossed his lips, and he turned toward the window again.
Kindle release: http://tinyurl.com/In-the-Arms-of-an-Earl
Anna, that was a lovely excerpt. Congratulations on your release!
Here’s what I think is a fun little scene from my Regency novella, “An Arranged Valentine” – Thanks, Ella!
Divested of the boots at last, George dispatched Laurence for a pair of shoes more suitable to the house and told the servant he would find him working in the library. He needed to make a note in the account books of the additional amount now owed for the grain. There was another, less tedious, but certainly more difficult, task to complete, as well—the writing of the St. Valentine’s Day verse, the first step in his wooing of Penelope.
George paused at the entrance to the great hall, found neither Sir Robert nor his daughter anywhere in sight, and made haste, his stocking feet noiseless on the cold stone floor. Once in the library, he shut the door behind him and exhaled in relief, grateful that their guests hadn’t caught him running about the place like an errant child, with no shoes on.
“Good morning, Mr. Harburton.”
His heart sank to his non-existent boots. George turned and saw Penelope seated in one of the wing chairs by the hearth, with an open book on her lap and a look of amusement in her eyes.
“Miss…Miss Braxton,” he stammered. “Yes, good morning. I trust you slept well?” Gathering his wits, George embraced his embarrassment and strode forward, seeking the warmth of the fire.
“Yes, quite well, sir. Thank you.” She nodded and smiled, as if finding one of her hosts pacing about, wearing twice-patched stockings, was an everyday occurrence. “I pray I haven’t overstepped by making myself comfortable here with my favourite of Mr. Shakespeare’s plays?”
She held up the volume in question, so he could see the title, The Merry Wives of Windsor.
“Not at all,” he assured her. “But, may I say, what an unusual choice. For I can imagine you enjoying a romantic tragedy such as Romeo and Juliet or even a history, on the order of Julius Caesar, but not a risqué comedy.”
“Do you think I possess no sense of humour, then, Mr. Harburton?” She cast a fleeting look down at his unshod feet.
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From the story “Borealis” in Season of Marvels: Viking Tales by Deb Houdek Rule (“Borealis” previously published in Writers of the Future Volume IX):
Thraslaug beamed as she pushed forward out of the clump of women. Brock watched her hungrily as she approached. The shape of her body beneath her leather tunic was the most wondrous sight in the Universe, he believed. Her belly was just beginning to bulge with the result of their summer of passion.
Ormson smirked at Brock. “You’re drooling, lad,” he teased. “Thraslaug’s a woman of property now, no doubt, needing of respect.”
“Property to be sure,” Thraslaug said happily. “Council’s done given all my husband’s property to me, with none of it to his kin.”
Ormson the Stout hugged his sister. “You wanting to take on a new husband, then?”
Thraslaug shrugged. “You and Aswin handle the men’s work well enough. I’ve no need for a man.”
Brock gaped. “But. . . but. . .” he stuttered, “I’d thought you and I, with the baby and all. . .”
Thraslaug’s eyes widened. “We’ve a saying, dear Aswin: Love’s a weakness that scores the heart and ruins the mind.” She shook her head. “Don’t love. It’s the most ruinous of vices.”
Brock nodded slowly. Another lesson learned.
On Kindle at: http://www.amazon.com/Season-Marvels-Viking-Tales-ebook/dp/B007O4K2A8