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Hello,
Today, I'm sharing a peek from Merry and Bright, part of the Holiday Wishes themed releases from Silver Publishing, by my alter ego Skylin O'Thomas.
A little set up, Frazier and Gunnar have a plan to grant Presley's wish for a new holiday tradition, but they need her otherwise occupied so they can make it happen. She takes them up on their suggestion to grab a shower while they clean up the dinner mess.
~*~
Tilting her head to the side, she gazed at the reflection. She had a hazy, dreamy look on her face. "Geez, Pres. Get a grip." She screwed the lid back on the container. "And get dressed, you idiot, or you'll miss the movie."
She entered her bedroom and grabbed her favorite downtime clothes—a pair of comfy yoga pants, a soft T-shirt, and a fleece zip-up. She dropped the towel and pulled the garments on, stuffing her feet into a pair of fluffy socks. Feeling loose and relaxed, she opened her bedroom door and exited, stopping mid-step, stunned by the sight greeting her eyes.
A zillion presents under her tree. Her gaze flew to Frazier and Gunnar, standing in her kitchen with big, fat grins on their faces.
Her head shook back and forth. "Oh, you guys, what did you do?" She walked forward, disbelief working its way through her brain.
Frazier moved into the living room. "What's it look like? We played Santa."
Gunnar followed Fraz into the space.
Presley backed up, moving away from the tree. "It's too much. I can't accept all this stuff." She paced the floor, back and forth, overwhelmed, before she stopped. "Did you two do this so I'd pick one of you over the other?" She leveled her gaze on both men. "I already said I'm not coming between you."
Gunnar shot Frazier a sideways glance. "Shit, Fraz. We're morons."
Frazier nodded. "Yep. We are." He shook his head. "We forgot to tell her about the no pressure thing."
~*~
I hope you enjoyed the sneak peek.
Available
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~*~
Please stop by my blog for more snippets
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Thanks for reading!
Snippet from my Civil War romance novella, Cole's Promise.
Excerpt:
Claire eyed Betsy. Her sable-colored hair was perfectly brushed away from her face in a center part and coiled in a bun at the nape of her neck. Her dress was neat and clean, and more than a bit too dressy for work in camp. The outline of a corset cinched in her waist and pushed her bodice out in front. While Claire, of course, wore her corset for social gatherings, even while in camp, she left it aside when assigned to work.
"You're working here, too?" Claire asked.
Betsy scanned the inner tent, then smiled. "Yes, I’m assigned to Dr. Worley. As his assistant for the day."
Claire pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. "So was I."
"Oh." Betsy turned away, apparently not willing to show her disappointment. "So, I suppose we both will assist him."
"I suppose." Claire agreed. She enjoyed the frown on Betsy's face. She knew, for a fact, the woman volunteered to serve in camp to find herself an eligible officer. She'd apparently set her sights on the handsome surgeon.
Betsy gathered her skirts and sidled past empty cots to the back of the tent. A young steward stood at the table sorting medical instruments. "Young man, where is Dr. Worley? I was assigned to assist him today."
http://www.amazon.com/Coles-Promise-Love-Letters-ebook/dp/B007VRKQ04/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1334931371&sr=1-4
Extract from Tangled Love by Rosemary Morris
Tangled Love is set in England during Queen Anne Stuart’s reign – 1702 – 1714, an era which some readers will not be familiar with, so I took particular care when describing what my characters wore.
Richelda’s aunt refused to allow her to wear black in morning for her mother. She now owned a dozen fashionable gowns which revealed glimpses of laced bodices and flannel-lined stays, the latter covered with rich fabric fastened in front with jewelled buckles.
Once, overwhelmed by her aunt’s generosity she had asked. ‘Do I need so many gowns and folderols?’
‘Yes, I want you to look perfect for Viscount Chesney,’ Aunt Isobel had replied and purchased uncomfortable horsehair pads to be worn under gowns divided in front and looped up behind to display elaborate petticoats.
She sipped some more chocolate yearning for Elsie, her deceased mother’s maid, to play a part in her new life. Elsie would rejoice over her silk stockings, pretty garters, belts, buckled shoes, smocks and nightgowns trimmed with broad lace, handkerchiefs and fans as well as her gloves and headdresses.
www.rosemarymorris.co.uk
http://rosemarymorris.blogspot.com
www.facebook.com/writerinagarret
Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing – Amazon – Barnes and Noble – Smashwords – Omnlit – Coffeetime Romance and elsewhere.
Hi there - this is an excerpt from A HEAT OF THE MOMENT THING, by Maggie Le Page.
In this scene the heroine, Becky, has just arrived for the first day in her new job, after suffering a head wound in an accident.
My scarf’s reflection bounced off the elevator doors, and Jim’s Belisha Beacon comment taunted me. Cripes. He was right. I looked ridiculous.
The doors opened, ‘Gillingas Tertiary College – Tourism and Travel Division’ greeted me in proud gold lettering, and it was too late to bail out. I took a bracing breath and approached reception.
“Hi. I’m Jebecca Rordan—” I blushed. “I mean, Rebecca Jordan. I’m here to see Gary Silverton.”
Perfect. Now they’d think I was dyslexic as well.
The receptionist choked back a laugh. “You’re the new lecturer, right? I’ll page Gary for you.” She glanced at me, all innocence. “Jebecca, was it?”
Just as she said ‘Jebecca’, a suited, senior manager-ish looking man emerged behind her. His eyebrow shot up. My cheeks flamed Belisha Beacon-bright.
The receptionist turned to him with a smile. “Speak of the devil. Gary, this is—”
She paused.
I cringed.
She shot me a doe-eyed look. “—Rebecca Jordan.”
I sagged with relief.
“Ah. Becky.” Gary came around her desk and shook my hand. “Welcome to Gillingas Tertiary College.”
“Thanks.” I fingered my new headscarf. Was it slipping? I had a Worzel Gummidge horror hidden under there.
“How are you feeling?” Gary’s eyes fixated on the headscarf. “Sounds like you had a close call.”
“Much better, thanks.” I dropped my hand back to my side. “Sorry I couldn’t—”
I gasped, feeling serious scarf slippage, and grabbed at my head.
Gary, with a stricken look, tried to help. It only made things worse. The headscarf, hooked on my finger, shifted floorward, then skyward, before collapsing with ballerina grace in my hands.
I stared in dismay at the mess of fabric.
http://www.maggielepage.com
http://www.facebook.com/maggielepage
A HEAT OF THE MOMENT THING can be sampled and bought from:
Amazon
Smashwords
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
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