I’m still on the Christmas theme. So, today we’re doing excerpts of your Christmas book or your latest release! Don’t forget to add your by links.
Here is mine from Miss Featherton’s Christmas Prince.
Damon sucked in a breath as Meg emerged from the corridor wearing a deep-red velvet gown that accentuated her curves as she glided toward the stairs. Her dark curls picked up the candlelight and danced around her face. Sweet Jesus, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and she would be his.
Pretending that she was walking to him, he held out his hand. “Good evening.”
She lifted her eyes to his, but they were shuttered, as if she was attempting to deny even the friendship that was growing between them. “Are you always before times, my lord?”
“I like to scout out the area before others arrive.” He waited until she placed her hand on his arm before asking, “What is your reason?”
“I merely enjoy being timely.”
“A virtue, to be sure. After you left, I found another riddle.”
“Were you able to figure out the answer?”
“This one was not difficult. Shall I recite it to you?” Without waiting for her to answer, he began. “‘My first doth affliction denote, which my second is destined to feel; and my whole is the best antidote that affliction to soften and heal.’”
She wrinkled her brow, then after a moment shook her head. “No. You will have to tell me.”
“The answer is a woman.” Meg opened her lips, but he continued before she could speak. “It appears that most men think of women as the remedy to any affliction.”
“I am positive I do not wish to be anyone’s cure.”
“Perhaps it is better that one has experienced love, even if one then loses the love.”
“Why would you think that?”
Meg made a derogatory snort. “I am quite sure that is only true in your imagination. Normal people are perfectly capable of living their lives in calm contentment. Mad love is not necessary to happiness and can be detrimental to it.”
Perhaps now he would have the conversation he had wanted to have with her. “Marriage without passion seems to be a rather boring proposition.”
“Not at all. It is perfectly reasonable. Neither party need be injured by the other’s actions.”
“No need to be upset if the husband looks too long at another lady. No need to—”
“I did not say that.” Her chin firmed as if she was ready to do verbal battle. “After all, it would be a matter of respect for the husband not to leer at other women in his wife’s presence.”
He fought to keep his lips from quivering with a smile. “I understand you. He may act as he pleases as long as his wife is not around.”
“You are being unreasonable.”
“Not at all. I am merely trying to understand your point. You do not wish for passion in marriage, yet you would forbid passion altogether.”
“One may have passion for one’s family and children.”
“Do you plan to—”
“Hawksworth.” Lady Bellamny led a footman carrying a box of greenery. “I have received these from Lady Grantville. Since you and Miss Featherton are early, you may direct their hanging.”
He carefully picked up one of the red ribbons and grinned. Hanging from it was a kissing ball, complete with mistletoe. “It would be our pleasure. Although, I must confess, I know little about hanging kissing balls, but I am certain Miss Featherton will know.”
She turned bright red then gasped. After a few moments’ struggle, she retorted, “I can only tell you where my mother hangs them, my lord. She must know best, as they are denuded of berries before Twelfth Night.”
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Ella Quinn ~ Author 
Thank you, Ella! It so happens that I have a Christmas book out this year. 🙂 Here’s my excerpt from The Christmas Knot:
Richard grabbed Edwina’s valise and with a curt motion of the head, indicated that she should follow him indoors.
She hesitated. Death from exposure to the elements―for the first fat drops had already begun to fall―or from mortification?
“For God’s sake, Edwina, come indoors before I have to drag you.”
A wave of nostalgia rolled over her. Typical, no-nonsense Richard Ballister—one thing she had always loved about him. She didn’t love him anymore—that went without saying; one couldn’t love a liar and a jilt—but a few good memories lingered amongst the utterly miserable ones.
She went inside, and he slammed the door behind her. Before she could move, he loomed over her, large and threatening, trapping her between himself and the door, and another shudder of memory went through her. He hadn’t changed much: tall and darkly handsome, with a sensual curl of the lips and half-hooded, appraising eyes.
Why must desire rear its foolish head at such a time?
“What the devil are you doing here?” he said.
Desire and nostalgia dissipated at once. “Perhaps you should have identified yourself in that advertisement, if you didn’t want an unpleasant surprise,” she snapped. “Believe me, if I’d known you were my prospective employer, I wouldn’t have come.”
“Wise of you,” he drawled.
She wanted to hit him. “If you had any consideration at all, you would have arranged for the governess to apply to an agent in London, rather than spend her every last farthing traveling to the middle of nowhere.” To find the one man she loathed most in the entire world.
“Every last farthing?” He rolled his eyes.
“Not quite,” she retorted, spitting with fury. He retreated a few inches. Good. “I have a ha’penny in my reticule.”
“You can’t possibly be down to your last ha’penny,” he scoffed. “Your husband is a very rich man. I ask again—why in God’s name are you here?”
“My husband is dead,” she said flatly. “Didn’t you advertise for a widow?”
“My condolences,” he said unpleasantly. “But that doesn’t make you a governess, Edwina. Surely you can find some worthy charity or other to occupy your time. Succoring the flower girls in Covent Garden or some such.”
Oh, how she longed to hit him. “My husband died penniless. Therefore I am penniless, too.”
He blinked, taking it in. She didn’t blame him for being surprised. At the time of her marriage, her late husband had indeed been wealthy. Richard’s lips curled into an evil smile. “Well, but you’ve got a ha’penny left, didn’t you say?” He threw his head back and laughed.
It wasn’t a choice after all—she would perish of both mortification *and* the cold and wet. She whirled and wrenched open the door. Rain lashed in, soaking her skirts. She grabbed her valise, which Richard had dropped—he was still laughing, the disgusting brute―and marched out into the downpour.
http://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Knot-Slightly-Regency-Mystery-ebook/dp/B016YXO8YA/
Great excerpt, Barbara!
Tweeted and shared, posted an excerpt too. Barbara Monajem To Kiss a Rake, Soul Mate Publishing, Available Now! The Rake’s Irish Lady, Soul Mate Publishing, Dec. 30, 2015. Pre-Order Now! http://www.BarbaraMonajem.com
Thank you, Barbara!!
And my newest release is my Christmas novella, A Kiss Beneath the Mistletoe, so I fulfill both counts, Ella! 🙂 Thanks for the opportunity!
“Aunt Arabella, what is this running the mistletoe Lady Celinda told me about? I’ve not heard of it before.”
“Well, that is a bit of a story.” Her aunt laughed and linked arms with her. “It’s a particular custom in Marbury’s family. His mother is German and when she married, she brought a lot of those customs to England. That’s why we celebrate Christmas with a Christmas tree.”
“I’d wondered about that,” Jenny said with a smile. “Mama thought it very odd when she first heard of it.”
“Many people do, although Queen Charlotte had one for many years.”
“Yes, I’d heard that as well. And we are to decorate it this afternoon, aunt?” It sounded like a fun time. “And the Snapdragon? We will have that as well, won’t we?”
“Of course.” Aunt Arabella stopped to look around. “This way,” she called to the larger party following behind them and pointed to several large evergreen trees on her left.
“But what is running the mistletoe?” Jenny had almost forgotten about that mysterious event.
Aunt Arabella laughed, a ringing sound in the crisp air. “You know what mistletoe is?”
Jenny nodded. She’d seen sprigs of it hung over the doorway at home at Christmas and caught her parents kissing under it a time or two.
“Well, when we come to cut greenery for the house, we also find a ball of mistletoe to take back as well.” Her eyes twinkled. “Be careful going through the doorways for the next couple of weeks, Jenny. You don’t know who you’ll meet coming the opposite way. I suspect you’ll end up collecting a lot of little white berries.”
“What do you mean, aunt?” Collecting berries? How odd.
“For each kiss, the gentleman cuts off one of the berries and gives it to the young lady he kissed.”
Jenny’s cheeks heated despite the nipping cold, and her aunt laughed.
“But since the ball we find out here is high off the ground, we do something different in the woods. The story goes that several generations ago, in the Dowager Viscountess’s family, an earlier Viscount Marbury arrived with letters of introduction from England. According to family history, he was out in the woods with a large party, searching for a Christmas tree to cut down. He spied some mistletoe high in a tree, directly above a pretty young lady of the family. He gave a great shout and began to chase her. She screamed and ran, but he caught her underneath the mistletoe and kissed her hand.” Aunt Arabella smiled. “Marbury’s family has continued this tradition, although it’s changed a bit from that original run. Now the participants line up and the young men dare the ladies to run underneath the mistletoe. They give them a five count start and if they can catch them by the time they reach the mistletoe ball, they can claim a kiss.” Her aunt grinned and whispered, “That’s how I met Marbury.”
“Really, Aunt?” Jenny’s heart beat a little faster. Would she fall in love with someone who caught her under the mistletoe?
A Kiss Beneath the Mistletoe is available at
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0193TFJ22?*Version*=1&*entries*=0
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/599034
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1067520718
Thank you, Ella!
Thanks for this, Ella – I enjoyed your excerpt! This is from Midwinter Masquerade (as Romy Gemmell) – my Regency romance and intrigue set in the Scottish countryside at the Midwinter Solstice in 1816.
“Thank you again, godmother, for such a beautiful surprise,” Lenora said, as the carriage turned toward home.
“You deserve it, my dear, and I look forward to watching how events turn out at Marlings.”
Lenora did not miss the mischievous wink and smiled. “Then let us hope we are not disappointed.” With that ambiguous remark, Lenora alighted from the carriage and waved goodbye as she watched the vehicle return Lady Pettigrew home.
She had a few more days to make ready for departure and the exquisite gold gown made one decision less necessary. It only remained to discover why Edward Montgomery had come back into her life and how she would react to his presence. With one correspondence, he had awakened Lenora’s closely guarded memories. She tried to deny that a single letter could resurrect long-buried feelings, yet that firm sloping handwriting served only to remind her of what she had once lost.
But she was a woman of independent means with several admirers. It remained to be seen if her heart was now immune to one in particular.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00G4DNG7G
Website: http://www.rosemarygemmell.com