Life seriously interfered with everything writing yesterday. To make it up to you I invite you to post any excerpt of 500 words, buy and social media links. Please keep it PG-13.
If you’re here to read, let us know how we’re doing.
Here is mine from Enticing Miss Eugénie Villaret which releases on August 7th!
July 1816, England
William, Viscount Wivenly, caught a glimpse of sprigged muslin through a thinly leafed part of the tall hedge, behind which he’d taken refuge.
“Are you sure he came this way?” an excited female voice whispered.
- He didn’t like the sound of that. Will found himself in sympathy with the fox at a hunt.
“Quite sure,” came the hushed response. “You must be careful, Cressida. If I reveal to you what Miss Stavely told me in the strictest confidence, you must vow never to repeat what I’m about to say. I swore I’d never breathe a word.”
“Yes, yes,” Miss Cressida Hawthorne replied urgently, “I promise.”
He’d been dodging the Hawthorne chit for two days now, and unfortunately she wasn’t the only one. The other woman sounded like the newly betrothed Miss Blakely.
“Well then”—Miss Blakely paused—“I really shouldn’t. If it got out, she’d be ruined!”
“I already promised,” Miss Hawthorne wheedled.
After a few moments, the other girl continued. “Miss Stavely said she followed Lord Wivenly to the library so that they’d be alone, and he’d have to marry her.”
“What an excellent plan.” Miss Hawthorne’s tone fell somewhere between admiring and wishful.
“Well, it wasn’t.”
Even thinking about the incident with Miss Stavely made Will shudder. There were few worse fates than being married to her in particular. Fortunately, the lady was not as intelligent as she was crafty. The minute she’d turned the lock, she had announced he would have to marry her. However, she’d failed to take into account the French windows through which Will had made his escape.
“What do you mean it wasn’t a good idea?” Miss Hawthorne asked.
“Have you heard a betrothal announcement?”
Their footsteps stopped. Drat it all, there must be another way out of here. He surveyed the privet hedge, which bordered three sides of this part of the garden. Across from him was a wooden rail fence about five feet high. Large rambling roses in pale pink and yellow sprawled along it, completing the enclosure. Whoever designed this spot had wanted privacy. Will’s attention was once again captured by the voices.
“No,” Miss Hawthorne said slowly, as if working out a puzzle. “So it didn’t work.”
“Do you know what Miss Stavely failed to take into account?”
When Miss Hawthorne didn’t reply, Miss Blakely continued. “She didn’t bother to ensure she had a witness at hand. Miss Stavely said Lord Wivenly looked her up and down like she was a beefsteak and told her he’d ruin her if she wished, but not to think he’d take her to wife.”
Perhaps not his finest moment, though Will had wanted to scare the chit. Not that it had worked. She had practically launched herself at him.
“Oooh, how wicked.” Miss Hawthorne giggled. “He’s so handsome, and has such nice brown hair. I’d love to be compromised by him.” She paused. “But only if he had to marry me, so you must make sure to bear witness.”
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ellaquinnauthor
Ella Quinn ~ Author 
Thanks for this opportunity. With Tres Masters chatting with people yesterday, I probably wouldn’t have gotten this done on Monday anyway. 🙂 Here’s my excerpt of my recent romantic suspense release, Eenie, Meanie, Minie, No! I especially love this cover as my great niece did the writing for the note.
http://amzn.to/1qRyQur
Nikki smiled as she passed several girls from one of her classes whispering secrets in the hallway.
“Hey, Ms. Sterces,” they said in unison.
“Have a good night, girls. Don’t forget the practice AP test tomorrow.” As she continued walking, she tried not to smirk when she heard a couple of them groan quietly before they returned to their previous conversation. When they started giggling again, she figured they were sharing the silly little secrets of teenage girls. Unfortunately, the chill that raced over her skin reminded her how wrong she could be. The secrets she and her friends shared in high school had been anything but silly and innocent.
Pushing through the exit door to the wonderful Colorado sunshine her smile returned. The school year would soon be over. She would be able to enjoy her privacy and not think about anyone’s secrets. Besides, she wasn’t a teenager anymore. No one knew her secret, not even her friends from high school. She could walk with her head held high. Her private little pep talk renewed her confidence all the way home.
When she stepped into her kitchen and saw the message light flashing, her newfound confidence all but disappeared. Feeling like the girl people yell, ‘don’t do it,’ to in a scary movie, she forced herself to push the play button. As the voice she dreaded played from the machine, terror gripped her by the throat.
“Domonique, I know you’re still at school, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. I’ll be seeing you soon.” Laughter tinged with a hint of menace followed the message, continuing until the call ended.
Fear held her motionless, twelve years of rebuilding her self-esteem shattered around her. Only one person ever called her by her full name. She’d changed her number three times in the past month, but he always got the new one. Unlike the other calls, this was the first time he’d said anything about seeing her again. Why now?
http://sandrakerns.com/
Hey, Ella. I hope, though, busy, you’re doing well! 🙂 I’d been really busy myself yesterday so wondered if I had missed your notice. Glad to see not. 🙂 Anyway, here’s my excerpt from my latest release, a paranormal romance New Adult novel, Changeling’s Crown, which is now available at Amazon:
http://amzn.com/B00KPJ27UW
“I said the Faery Godparent High Council has decided in your favor.” Ms. Siabelle turned in her chair, and standing, crossed the room to a tall filing cabinet. Batting away a stray sunbeam, she tugged the top drawer open, and drew a finger in the air above the files. They flipped by themselves, one after another, as if she pulled them. “If the couple can’t make a go of it even after what you’ve done, it’s not your fault.”
“I did try,” Ianthe said.
“I told the council so. Ah, here we are.” She stepped back as one file slid free. It spun in the air before her a moment, then Ms. Siabelle reached out and took hold of the thin folder. Ianthe wrung her hands as Ms. Siabelle sat back down and began to read. “Hmm… It says here that you’re to be assigned to a young man.” Her brow rose. “And his soon-to-be ex-wife.”
Ianthe sat up straighter. A divorce? Oh, no. More battles over the children. She found being saddled with the choice of which parent would be best heartbreaking. “Surely you must be mistaken. Isn’t there some forlorn lover I can look after instead?” This guy was probably as ugly as the frog prince, while the wife, well… she’d met some doozies!
“No, the assignment is quite clear. You’re to assist Randall and Mallory Davies.” Ms. Siabelle shut the gleaming folder and folded her hands atop it. “According to their files, it’s a clear case. Randall’s not sure he wants the divorce and Mallory—well, I don’t see why she couldn’t be persuaded to drop the case. Should be a piece of cake, as they say down there.”
She’d said that about Snow White’s daughter, but Ianthe thought better of reminding her. “I’m not sure.”
“Are you saying you don’t want the assignment, my dear? I thought you hoped for a chance to get your wand and title back.” Her nose twitched. “And everything else that goes with it. Coaches and ball gowns and such.”
All of which had gone out of style with the age of classic faery tales. Right now, Ianthe didn’t feel like contradicting her. “I do, ma’am. It’s just that—”
“Good. I’ll see the paperwork’s sent through; meanwhile—” She wiggled her finger over the file and it rose from the desktop, floating like a bird into Ianthe’s less than eager hands. “Why don’t you get started?” She shook her head sadly. “Seems Randall and Mallory are in dire need of a happy ending, as you’ll see.”
Ianthe sighed. The pages flipped open before her, and she took in the photographs. Randall, his employees. One stood out: a man with a handsome angular face, tousled brown hair, and deep, coffee-colored eyes.
She leaned forward to study the picture, wondering who he was. Too handsome to ignore, she thought. Was he the reason for the couple’s troubles? She could see that being the case.
Maybe this assignment wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.
🙂 I hope you like it and thanks again!
http://julidrevezzo.com
It’s been crazy here, Julie. Hubby leaves tomorrow so I’ll take a break from getting the house ready to us as a vacation rental.
Ella, Thank you. Great excerpts!
Here’s mine from Viking Fire – Historical Romance with a touch of magic:
Ireland 856 CE (condensed)
“I renounce Father for this.” Kaireen threw the elderberry gown.
“Shame on you and your children for speaking such.” Her handmaid, Elva, gathered the damask and then dusted off the rushes. “It’s a wonder one of the clim has not scolded you from your hearth for such talk.”
“No, curse Father for a fool.” She plopped on her bed and a goose feather floated away. With a huff, she leaned against the oak headboard. Red curtains puffed like a robin’s chest around oak poles supporting her wooden canopy.
Her bare feet brushed against the stone floor.
“You know your da arranged a marriage within a season.” Elva smirked.
Kaireen shook her head. “To another land holder,” and waved a hand in disgust, “not t-this heathen. Twice they raided our land in the last month alone. Now father wants me as wife to one of them?” She clenched her fists. “No, I will not marry this Viking.”
Elva smiled, reminding Kaireen of the rumors of her handmaid’s uncanny foresight.
Whispers of Elva making strange things happen and often blamed as the cause of
Kaireen’s stubborn refusal to behave as a laird’s daughter should.
“You’ve not seen him yet.” Elva wiggled her brows.
“So?” Kaireen shrugged. “I would like to never see him.”
“Well then, would you not like to know if you have a handsome husband or not?” She waited for her response, but Kaireen scowled. Elva chuckled. “I would rather get a good look at him now than the morning after.”
Kaireen’s ears heated. “I am not marrying.” She shook her head for emphasis. “So there will be no morning, nor night, nor wedding.”
“If he is handsome, I may fight you for him.” Elva smiled, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes.
“Welcome to him either way.” Kaireen laughed.
And Viking Fire is part of the Time after Time bundle – 10 Full-Length Historical romance novels by 10 different authors for 99cents (limited time only)
Amazon Buy Link: smarturl.it/TimeaTimeBundle
These are great!
From Lily’s Summer Cowboy:
Lily blinked. “How long have I been sleeping?”
He shrugged. “A while.”
She struggled into a sitting position. “Why did you let me sleep so long? The field—”
“Is done.” He drank deeply, the cool liquid sliding down his parched throat. “I’m about to head back to mine.”
Instead of the pleasure he expected, she frowned. “What? I don’t understand.”
“You were tired. I took care of it.”
She pushed to her feet and glared at him. “You didn’t have to do that. I carry my own weight. Always.”
A memory of Amy saying almost identical words rocked him. She’d been furious, too, when he tried to help her with a heavy burden. He swiped at his chin with his wrist. “My mistake.”
One he wouldn’t make again.
http://www.amazon.com/Lilys-Summer-Cowboy-DAnn-Lindun-ebook/dp/B00L6J9S20/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1404052260&sr=1-1&keywords=lily%27s+summer+cowboy
Great excerpt, Ella! Love the promising not to tell, then telling. LOL!
Thanks, Jenn!
Tweeted.
Always fun Ella! And thank you. From my Ancient Rome story, Love & Vengeance –
Rome 108 CE
A menacing growl followed by an earth-shattering scream bellowed above the rafters. The roar of the crowd snapped her back out of the numbness. The applause echoed through the chambers as particles of sand rained through the wood slats in the ceiling.
She was filthy, covered in sweat, blood and grime. What damage could more dirt do? Toes on the dirt floor wiggled as she stared at them. Her hair hung around her face like a curtain, matted with dried blood. Inadvertently, she lifted her hand to tuck one side behind her ear but jerked to a halt, restrained by the iron cuffs around her wrists, bound together with a chain. The same chain connected to the metal collar around her neck. How had she forgotten its weight resting so heavy on her shoulders?
Another scream and the sound of flesh ripping, laughter and clapping became louder above. Fear snaked down her spine and she shuddered.
Gustina sat on the stone ledge, chained with the other miscreants, waiting to be forced up the ramp to the carnage above. If she could just return to the numbness again, where nothing mattered any more. The place she’d escaped to before she’d heard the animals attacking the condemned out there. But she couldn’t silence the roar of the crowds, enjoying the executions as their noontime entertainment. Trembling, she pulled her sluggish legs up, wrapping her joined hands over them, to hold herself as she buried her face in her knees.
****
In the hallway outside the chamber, Marcus stood, flexing his muscles, his arm extended with the metal disk in his hand. It equaled the weight of his sword – a weapon he would not have until it was his turn in the arena. Besides, there was no room in the corridor to swing it, to loosen his arms in preparations for the next fight.
Christians and convicts. What a surly lot. But it was an easy way to feed the vast array of beasts the Empire kept to compete in the games. Did he ever feel sad for the poor souls about to perish by their claws? No. Nor did he mourn the loss of life at the end of his sword.
He was one of the rare attractions people paid to see. He was gladiator. And he soon would be victor of all he opposed on the sands. Marcus’ victories gave him the privileges and money he wanted – as long as it remained wine and women. But not his freedom. Not what he had lost to the Romans. No, the only way to gain that came by victory in the arena and in front of the Emperor. And to earn that opportunity, he’d kill whomever they placed before him.
He closed his eyes as the screams filtered downward. His soul heard them and his body tingled with the smell of blood and dirt. Breathing in the welcoming atmosphere, he exhaled and opened his lids to look straight into the captives’ chamber.
He found her. Sitting, hunched on the small ledge, draped in chain and metal bands, her head down. But when she looked up, through all the muck and grime, her pale blue eyes shined, sparkling and bright. Her unmarred face was a rarity amongst captives dragged to this place, usually after rough treatment prior. He noticed her high cheekbones, a small nose, narrow chin but ripe mouth. Her eyes locked on him and his mouth went dry. When her tongue licked her lips, his body tightened.
He had to have her. Period. Regardless if she was a convict, runaway or Christian, he wanted her.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1f1PV0m
Nook: http://bit.ly/1fbMvrR
iBook: http://bit.ly/1nR3hgE
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/1jIyEXc