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Thursday, January 22, 2015

Throwback Thursday!

The internet takes a step back in time every Thursday as people around the world share old baby pictures, vintage prom and wedding photos, and other assorted oldies. Authors can share too! This Thursday meme highlights those books in your backlist.

In comments, tempt us with
a snippet, 300 words or less, from your older works. Don't forget your buy link and website/blog link. Have fun!

 Share your participation with our
ready-to-go tweet or make your own:

Discover great reads. Exquisite Quills' Throwback Thursday!    


Berengaria Brown said...

"The Vicar's Virgin"
The Reverend Mr. Barnabas Ridley stepped down from his carriage, nodded his thanks to his groom, settled his top hat on his shiny black hair, and said, “Now David. Make sure you’re back here to meet me in exactly half an hour. My mother may have browbeaten me into making this morning call, but not even for her will I stay one second past the proper half hour.”
The elderly retainer’s eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter but his voice was suitably respectful. “Of course, sir. Half an hour it is, sir.”
Barnabas climbed the steps to the front door of the smart town house, touched his hat again to reassure himself all was at it should be, then raised his hand to knock.
The butler had evidently seen or heard his approach for the door opened before he could grasp the knocker and he was ushered into the hallway.
“The Dowager Lady Arnott is expecting you sir,” the butler said, tenderly laying Barnabas’s gloves, cane and hat on the hall table, before helping him out of his greatcoat.
Barnabas followed him toward the door of the morning room, mentally noting that in at least one aspect his mama had been correct. Old Mrs. Arnott did seem to require use of the courtesy title she no longer held. Well, it would be a small price to pay to flatter the old biddy if she agreed to take Theodora to some Ton parties along with her two grand-daughters. And as for his mama’s plan that he marry the eldest grand-daughter, Georgina, that would depend on whether or not she was an appropriate wife for a man of the cloth.
The butler opened the door and announced sonorously, “The Rev—”
A thunderous crash split the air, followed by a moment of total silence, then hysterical screaming. Barnabas swung around facing the hallway, looking right and left for whatever danger approached.
Buy link:

Berengaria Brown

E.Ayers said...

by E. Ayers

Quickly, she brought her things inside and settled in. It was after eleven p.m., but she knew her mom would be waiting up for her to call. She picked up her cell phone and called home. "Hi, Mom. I made it.'' "Oh, it's lovely.'' "No, I haven't been to the beach. It's dark, and I just got here.''

She chatted for a few more minutes and then hung up. This was to be time off, away from her family. She didn't want to spend it chatting to them.

So tired she barely had the energy to turn off the lights, pull off her clothes, and slip into her PJ's. Every part of her ached, as if she had been holding the weight of her life on her shoulders. She'd never spent a single night alone, not really. She'd gone from living with her family, to living with Daniel, and then back to living with her family. Even though she and her children lived in the guesthouse in her parents' backyard she didn't feel alone. Now she was completely alone.

While lying in the bed, every sound seemed twice as loud. Far in the distance there was an irregular hum, not quite that of a motor, but it was consistent. With it came a syncopated clang that never stopped. Something nearby tinkled occasionally. A bird squawked. The floor creaked. She rolled over telling herself that these were all normal noises. They were no different from the noises she heard from her own bed.

/Thud!/ She gasped and listened to something roll down the roof. Air caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard. Goose bumps covered her arms, as her ears listened for any additional sounds. This was a bad idea. /What was I thinking?/

Amazon International Buy Links.
available as a Kindle Unlimited

Erin OQuinn said...

My first M/M, a historical set in 432 AD called WARRIOR, RIDE HARD. In the opening chapter, the characters are bound for the Ireland of St. Patrick. Here, young Welsh pony trainer Wynn meets the formidable Roman ex-soldier Gristle and begs to be trained under his expert eye. Gristle’s eye takes in much more than Wynn could possibly know ...

“Sir…I would know how you walk through sand without a grain in your sandals.” He looked at Gristle’s well-oiled leather sandals. “And—and all the other ways of a warrior.”

“There are many ways of a warrior, lad.”

“Then I would learn them all. From the top man.”

Gristle rose, and when Wynn stood also, he saw that the pony trainer was almost his height, a little over six feet. He might make a good sparring partner, Gristle thought. After intensive training, of course. The boy seemed to be all elbows and knees.

“I will consider it,” he said in his usual laconic style. “As you say, after we are settled in the new land. In a real home.”

“Ie. I hardly hoped ye would agree. Thank ye.” He held out his large hand, and Gristle gripped it for a moment, noting the slight hesitation in Wynn’s grasp.

This lad, he thought, is going through some kind of inner tumult. I feel it in his grasp. I see it in his eyes. Perhaps I represent some unspoken purpose in his life. I shall find out.

“Then I shall see you on the other side.”

“The, um—the other side?” He seemed startled by the trainer’s words, and then he smiled. “Of course. In the land of the currachs. Ffarwel.”

Gristle stood and watched Wynn struggle through the sand, up the hill to the high-water mark. His tunic, shorter than the style favored in this western part of Britannia, showed his muscular calves and part of his thighs. The strong legs of a rider. Once, when the lad stumbled a bit, the trainer caught sight of his well-formed ass, and his prick stirred under his own tunic. And then his mind snapped closed like a trap, catching only the quarry he was after at the moment—the hellion named Caylith, to whom he was unfortunately trothed as armsman. He strode with renewed purpose toward the currachs.

Jessie Clever said...

Son of a Duke: Book One of the Spy Series
Regency romance and my first published book

“So now what do we do?” Nora asked.
She would, of course, voice the very question he had been unwilling to even think, for thinking it led him one step closer to never seeing her again.
Nathan leaned back. “We do nothing. Your role in this act is over, Miss Quinton, and the War Office extends its gratitude. As for the lord and lady of the house, I recommend a lengthy fabrication in which a lot is said and nothing is told. I hear you are quite good at that sort of thing.”
“Jane talks entirely too much,” Nora said, standing.
“Yes, she does, and we love her for it.” Nathan stood.
“It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Mr. Black.” Nora stood as well, extending a hand.
She did not wear her white gloves, and the red patches of dry skin on her hand had him pausing before reaching for it, afraid he would hurt her. He looked up only to notice she was not looking at him, but that she was looking beyond him at a spot over his shoulder, in the direction of the only window in the room.
“Nathan, I think someone is watching us.”

Available from Amazon:

Jessie Clever

Linda Swift said...

As she watched the man in silence, Alice felt her heart pounding in her ears. Why had Lord Talbot sent a messenger instead of coming back himself? Unless he had been wounded? Or else was hiding in fear of his life?
At last, the messenger turned to face her. "Know ye of the goings on in London?" When she nodded, he went on. "And have ye heard of Robert Catesby's efforts to rally supporters of the cause to take a stand against the Crown and carry through the planned uprising?"
"We have heard rumors," she acknowledged.
The man shook his head. "Word spread of the foiled plot in London and of people celebrating in the streets, and they feared to join the conspirators."
"Yes, go on," Alice urged when the messenger paused for breath.
"Yesterday, the Sheriff of Worcestershire and a posse of some two hundred armed men surrounded Catesby and his followers. Catesby and three others were killed in the skirmish."
She held her breath, reading in his face the words he would speak.
"M' Lady, tis sad news I bring. Yer husband is among the dead."
Alice bowed her head, tears gathering in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. After a moment, she composed herself and spoke, "What of all the others?"
"Arrested, all of them, and taken to the Tower. I doubt not they 'ill be tried and hanged. And if it comfort ye, tis likely the Lord suffered a far kinder fate than them what lived."
Alice thought of the trials in Westminster Hall, the public hangings, with corpses drawn and quartered then left to rot without a proper burial and shuddered.

Anonymous said...

Sarim's Scent
Paranormal Romance and my first published book (2/12)

Fueled with thoughts of anger and revenge, Victoria embarks on a mission to find her father, certain he has the answers to questions she's had her entire life. Questions about why she prefers the night, gravitates toward the paranormal, and bears a strange tattoo on her neck, one she'd never put there.

Her journey leads her into the arms of her childhood friend, Ivan, the only man she lets close to her heart. He understands her and has always been her confidant. But would he remain loyal if she revealed all of her secrets and the real reason she's searching for her father?

Weary of living a lie and unable to walk away from family obligations, Ivan is forced to deceive the only woman he has ever cared about, one who he now realizes is his mate. Ivan knows he's doing the unforgivable, and it's just a matter of time before Victoria finds out the truth, but he can't resist the chemistry between them or deny the sensuous passion he experiences with her.

When Victoria's search becomes life threatening, Ivan must find the strength he needs to tell her the truth, or lose her altogether.

Amazon Buy Link:

Yolanda Ashton (writing pnr as Juliette Springs)\YolandaAshton

Michele Drier said...

SNAP: The World Unfolds, Book one in The Kandesky Vampire Chronicles

It was blood. It looked like somebody dropped a cup or glass. It puddled in front of the sinks and filmed out on the bathroom floor.
I was startled; usually the bathrooms at SNAP Magazine were spotless.
It didn’t smell like fresh blood, that odd, kind of tangy, metal-y smell, but for sure I wasn’t going to touch it to see if it was warm.
I couldn’t scream, but I was suddenly queasy. My makeup didn’t need a touch-up that much. My knees shook as I spun back through the door and headed straight to my assistant’s desk to have her call maintenance or whoever and clean up the mess.
She looked up at me. “There’s what on the bathroom floor?”
“A big puddle of blood,” I whispered. “Come see for yourself.”
I didn’t want to run, didn’t want to incite concern in the rest of the staff and have it spread out through the cubicles, but we walked fast. When we got across the office and down the hall, I pushed open the door and said, “Look!” with a flourish.
“Look at what?” Jazz’ eyebrows disappeared up under her bangs.
I turned my head and saw...nothing. No blood, no remains, no pink sheen, not even water on the floor.
“Are you sure you saw it?”
“Of course I saw it,” I insisted. “It was right in front of the sinks. It covered a patch of the floor.”
Jazz shook her bangs out of her eyes and gave me a withering look that could have dried grapes into raisins. “I know you’ve only been here a few days, but I can’t think you found blood on the floor. SNAP has a reputation to keep up and they wouldn’t let something like that sit there for anyone to find.”

Amazon author link

Anonymous said...

Loving all the other excerpts! Here's a snippet from my sweet romance, The Antique Love, set near Richmond Park in London:

Penny raised her eyes to his. ‘That’s a lovely thing to say. The loveliest thing anyone’s ever said.’ She gazed down at the tulips. ‘And thank you so much for the flowers. They’re lovely, too.’
Kurt stepped a little closer and took hold of her chin.
‘Don’t mention it,’ he said seriously. He bent his head, and for one brilliant, heart-stopping moment, Penny thought he was about to kiss her lips. His head moved to one side, and she felt his warm lips brush her cheek. ‘I’m glad you like the tulips.’ He stepped back. ‘They’re my sister’s favourite.’
Her heart gave a sickening lurch, and she went still, gazing at the flowers held lightly in her hands. Of course tulips were a sister’s sort of flower. Not roses or anything romantic like that. Of course not. Roses were the sort of flower a man would give to someone like Megan Rose, not her. She kept her head bent over the flowers for a while then lifted her chin to give him a faint smile.

Amazon link:

Susan Macatee said...

From 2009 Civil War time travel romance, Erin's Rebel.

Focusing her thoughts, she recalled flashes of a dark, rainy highway. A truck hurtling toward her. The tree.

She turned her head and squinted into the yellow-white glow of a lantern. She wasn’t in her car but lying flat on her back.

Someone moved beside her. A man with a heavy drawl spoke. "Are you all right, ma'am? Can you speak?"

She stared at him. Was she in a hospital? No. The gangly, sandy-haired man with the handlebar mustache wasn’t wearing scrubs. He appeared to be in his early thirties and was dressed in an oversized, striped blue and white shirt draped over tan wool pants with a set of suspenders dangling to his knees. This sure wasn’t an emergency room.

"Where am I?" she croaked. "What happened?" Blinding pain shot through her skull, again.

"You were thrown from a horse. Do you remember?"

"Horse?" She shook her head, then the sharp pain stopped her. "Ow, everything hurts."

The man pried the damp cloth from her hand and pressed it against the back of her head. "I don't feel any broken bones, but you’ve got a nice sized lump right here. I reckon you have a nasty headache. Just what where you doing on that mare this hour of night?"

"I wasn't on a horse," she said. "I've never been on a horse in my life. It was a car crash. I hit a tree when that truck slid in front of me."

"A bad fall like that could have affected your mind, Mrs. O'Connell." The man eyed her. "You're not making a lick of sense."

"O'Connell? No. I think you've made a mistake, Doctor." She scrutinized him. "You are a doctor, aren't you?"

Catherine Kean said...

Here's an excerpt from my award-winning medieval romance A KNIGHT'S VENGEANCE, Book 1 of my Knight's Series. The hero, Geoffrey de Lanceau, has just saved the heroine, Lady Elizabeth Brackendale, from the path of a runaway wagon:

“Kind sir, I owe you my thanks,” she said.

His arms, curved around her waist, relaxed. He must have sensed her strength returning. “A moment more, and you would have been crushed beneath the wagon’s wheels,” he said. “A pity, indeed, if such a fair damsel were broken like a child’s toy.”

His breath stirred the hair at her forehead. Goosebumps shot down her arms. She did not like the sensation, or the trace of humor warming his voice.

“I did not see the wagon,” Elizabeth said.

“Nor did you heed my warning.”

He spoke in the same tone as her father when he told her of her betrothal, but her sire had gentled his words by insisting the arrangement was for her safety, to ensure she and Wode never fell into de Lanceau’s clutches. She scowled. Her whole life it seemed of late was governed by this rogue de Lanceau.

She tipped up her chin. Her savior was a tall man. Shoulder muscles stretched his gray wool tunic. She steeled herself against his enticing, musky scent. “You are bold to speak to me in such a manner.”

“Not half as bold, milady, as you appear to be.”

Elizabeth groaned, for he spoke true. Her hands curled into his tunic. The ribbon poked between her fingers.

“Or half so bold again,” he continued with a velvety drawl, “as if I had stolen a kiss from your sweet lips.”

Amazon buy link:

Christine Young said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Christine Young said...

Highland Honor
Christine Young
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 3

Buy at:
Buy at Amazon:

Buy at Barnes & Noble:


Highland Honor
The first book in the Highland Series

Willfully stubborn, innocently courageous, Callie Whitcomb braves a journey through the treacherous highlands to the Macpherson castle. Callie flees from an unwanted marriage as well as her ruthless half brother. Naively she believes Colin MacPherson, the head of the clan, is loyal to her father and will give her sanctuary, protecting her from the vile plans that have been made for her.
As hard and as unyielding as the winter storms that sweep through the countryside, Colin is irresistibly drawn to the impetuous beauty who has magically appeared on his doorsteps. Despite his vows of revenge against her father, she stirs his passion as well as his sense of justice...but to love her would violate all his vows of revenge.

Joan Reeves said...

Still The One, a Romantic Comedy by Joan Reeves is a rollicking good time—Texas style! Sassy, sexy, and funny!

Burke needed a wife, but he didn't have his ex, Ally, in mind for the job.

Burke Winslow stands at the altar, ready to marry his business partner in a marriage of convenience. The minister solemnly asks: "If anyone here knows why this man and this woman shouldn't be joined in holy matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."

A rain-soaked, bedraggled Ally Fletcher limps down the aisle and shouts, "Stop the wedding!"

What follows is a funny, sexy romp that proves when there's love, passion never dies, it just smolders away until you toss gasoline on it. Burke and Ally provide the gasoline when they find themselves locked in a marriage of—inconvenience.

His cagey grandfather pulls Burke's strings, and her equally cagey grandmother manipulates Ally. Toss in a pretend boyfriend for Ally and Burke's scorned business partner left at the altar to make this chaos complete.

Can Burke and Ally stop fighting long enough to peel away the layers of the past and discover the truth about their love and passion? Will the truth free them or put them asunder?

Still The One is available in audio at Audible and iTunes, and in ebook at your favorite ebook seller including Amazon:

Visit Joan: | Sign up for her email list:

Iris Blobel said...



“You’ve got to be joking,” Flynn said into the phone. “What
do you mean you need to see me?” Pacing up and down his office
he finally settled by the window. He looked out, and his gaze
wandered along the Yarra River watching people strolling along
the Southbank Promenade. He liked the view – seeing the people
walking at different paces as they took in the sights, or looking for
restaurants, or as they were simply in a rush to get to their next
destination. His eyes wandered further up and took in the sight of
the Eureka Tower and a small shiver came up his spine as he
remembered what he gave up for being there, for making his life in
Melbourne and for getting this job.
The conversation he was having wasn’t going well, and he
let out a long breath. “Yes, I’ll be there. And this better be worth it.”
He walked over to the door and swung it open with such
force his assistant Joyce almost jumped out of her chair.
“Joyce, could you please reschedule the appointment
tomorrow afternoon with Harry? I’ve got some private business
I’ve got to attend to.”
“Not a problem, Flynn. You’ve got your hair cut tomorrow
“Slipped my mind,” he mumbled and cursed a few words,
but looking at Joyce’s face he knew she ignored his small outburst,
but patiently waited for an answer.
He exhaled, and while heading back into the office he said,
“I’ll go by tonight and see whether Richard can squeeze me in.”
And he slammed the door shut.