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Monday, January 12, 2015

Wash Line Monday!

Our Monday meme shines a light on apparel. From Regency to Steampunk, and everything in between, we dress our characters to reflect the story we want to tell.

In comments, and in 300 words or less, give us a snippet from your novel that describes what your heroes, heroines, or bit players are wearing. Don't forget your buy link and website/blog link. Have fun!

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Come see my snippet on Exquisite Quills' Wash Line Monday!    


E. Ayers said...

by E. Ayers

“You're a fashion designer, eh?”

DeeDee nodded. “I took my degree and ran off to Milan. Did an apprenticeship with a minor house there before going to Paris. Three houses there, and then a real design job in London. Naturally after I leave, is when she becomes famous. I've spent my last few years in New York with various houses.”

“Sounds exciting, so why here?”

“Hardly exciting. To be honest, I was tired of the outrageous: animal print lamé held together with sheer fabric that doesn't cover what needs to be covered; that little black dress is getting skimpier and skimpier until there's almost nothing there.” She picked up her cup of tea and sipped it.

Gloria shook her head. “I have one black dress. I bought it to wear to my husband's funeral and I've never worn it since.”

“Oh my, I’m sorry. How long have you been widowed?”

“Ten years.”

“Does the dress still fit?”

“Of course not.”

“Then it's time to get rid of it.”

Gloria's hands flew to her ample chest. “Oh, I can’t do that. If I can lose thirty-five pounds and get back to one-twenty-five, I'll be able to wear it again.”

DeeDee rolled her eyes. “The last time I weighed a hundred twenty-five pounds, I was twelve. I have the bones of a lumberjack. I'll never be petite. I don't look fashion forward and I can't wear what I was supposed to be designing. The last time I tried to diet, I almost landed in the hospital.” She held up both hands. “That's when I decided I like food too much and no diet was worth it. That's also when I came to the conclusion, that all women want to feel pretty and have the right to be pretty no matter how much they weigh.” She grinned. “And when do women want to feel their best? At their wedding.”
Available as a Kindle Unlimited

Linda Andrews said...

From my historical novel, A Gift from St. Nick

"My father?" Turning sideways, she slipped between him and the coal bins near the cooling boiler. Water lapped at her polished shoes, and her breath ruffled the white fur collar of her ankle-length blue coat. "What does my father have to do with anything?"
Hans strangled the wooden mop handle. "As owner of the Ojibwa Hotel, I imagined he conducts all business matters."
As men should. At least that was the rule in his culture. But the Kerrigans were of Irish stock. They could have peculiar notions of a woman's place. Her perfume certainly gave him peculiar notions.

Exclusive to amazon:


Susan Sofayov said...

From DEFECTIVE by Susan Sofayov

"Hey, Nick," I typed back.

"Still soaking up the sun? As much as I enjoy envisioning you in a thong bikini, I’m starting to worry about skin cancer. Please wear a hat and don’t forget to reapply the sunscreen every half-hour. I don’t ever want some half-assed skin guy hacking into you, marring your delicious everything," he wrote.

"Nick, I’m not sure which answer would be more appropriate, ‘thanks, mom’, or ‘you’re sick.’ Let me say it this way. Thank you for your concern and I am taking all safety precautions. Excuse me for a minute. I’ll be right back. I have to re-coat my whole body in coconut oil." I smiled as I hit the send button.

"I hate you," he typed, bolding the font.

I felt my fingers fly across the keyboard. "Wait, I think I missed a spot on the back of my upper thigh."

"Bitch," he typed, and I could actually imagine the twinkle in his amazing green eyes.

Before, I could type back another text box popped up. "Why did he leave you, Maggie?"

Jane Leopold Quinn said...

Norah Ballard gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Hair in place and makeup perfect: check. Strapless mermaid style, light taupe designer gown: check. Romantic halo of flowers circling her brow and a floor-length veil: check. Calm stomach instead of the requisite bridal butterflies: check. She was more aloof from the buzz of activity around her than she probably should be. Shouldn’t she be happily excited? Or terrified? Something other than indifferent? Something other than cold?

She, a senior associate at her firm, and her fiancé Garrett Dunleith, a partner in his family’s firm, were both aggressive, ambitious lawyers. They’d be a Chicago power couple. God, that sounded arrogant.

Control was her thing. She controlled her decision to enter law school, controlled her career. Once she’d met Garrett in college, she realized they would be a force to be reckoned with in the Chicago legal community. From practically the first moment they’d met, she’d planned their wedding and marriage. She’d planned every step of the event from the wedding date to rings to showers to their wedding clothing. After two years of marriage, they’d have children spaced two years apart. Nothing would go amiss today.

The reception had been arranged at the Peninsula Hotel for exactly one hour after the ceremony at the church.

I love Garrett. I’m positive I do. Goose bumps popped up on her bare shoulders and arms. Gazing around the church’s bridal dressing room, she searched for a draft. It was early May, not quite summer yet. She took a deep breath, as deeply as she could, sewn snugly into the gown by the designer’s seamstress.

From my newest release, The Real Deal, available here:
Jane Leopold Quinn -

Lily Bishop said...

Her strapless dress fit against her like a second skin, and he couldn't look away. While they waited for the next round of cards, she fidgeted with a silver-threaded scarf. He could imagine that scarf in his hands as he pulled her to him ... He had to get control of himself.
When the waitress brought drinks, he took care of the tip, and his blonde beauty flashed him a smile. When she won for the third time in as many hands, he saluted her with a flourish. She repaid him by blowing him a kiss. Now he had her attention.
Laura pretended to study her cards, but instead she peeked through her lashes at the gorgeous man beside her. With everyone else at the table in T-shirts and jeans, he stood out in a well-cut charcoal suit as if he had just come from a board meeting. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the back of his stool, then rolled up his sleeves.
He was Man-of-the-Month material. In fact, she could picture him as Mr. July with his tie loosened and shirt unbuttoned to reveal sculpted abs ... Distracted, she hit when she should have stood and busted at twenty-two.
"You jinxed me!" she accused him with a laugh.
He turned that thousand-watt smile on her when he busted after one hit as well. "No, you took my card. See, if I had that one, I would have had twenty-one."
"Oh, blame me." She stacked and re-stacked her chips, then adjusted her scarf. "Any minute you’ll say I'm too distracting."
He turned and his eyes followed the scarf back to her neck, and down to her waist. As his gaze moved up again, it felt like a caress. She looked up and lost herself in bright blue eyes that reminded her of the ocean in South Beach.
"You don't know the half of it," he said in a low tone meant only for her. Amusement lurked just beneath his words.

From No Strings Attached, a romance full of mystery and suspense.
Lily Bishop --

Anonymous said...

From Catriona's Curse:

My sister and I were in what everyone called the haunted bedroom when we heard the car pull up. April ran to the window and looked down. “Wow. Dibs on the blond; he’s beautiful.”
I walked up behind her and took a look for myself. The tall blond removed his sunglasses and I felt a déjà vu like stirring deep inside. I knew I’d never seen him before. I’d have remembered. He looked to be a little over six feet tall, athletically built and close to my age. A pair of light blue trousers hung loosely around his legs and a short-sleeved, cream-colored pullover almost the same color of his hair accented his taut abs. Just then a ray of sunlight hit his hair and it shone like silver.
On the other hand, the man who got out of the passenger side was several inches under six feet and stocky with dark hair. His outfit marked him as obviously gay. He wore grey trousers and a coral long-sleeved, button-down shirt. A grey scarf the same shade as his trousers wound around his neck.



Erin OQuinn said...

From THE KILT COMPLEX. And the clothing? You guessed it!

Um, what do you call this?” Alex had stopped at the second button, lifting the cape-like part of the long wool coat.

“A greatcoat. ’Tis a venerable garment. No man from Nevada would be caught dead in one. Or carrying an umbrella either, I think.”

Alex laughed and undid the next button. He began to realize why the tough-skinned Scot was wearing a coat, like a wuss. Usually a little rain would not daunt him at all. The more he unbuttoned, the more he revealed the formal tie, the rich wool fabric of the jacket, the shirt’s starched white linen; and finally the red, blue and green of the Clan Drummond knee-length tartan. His man was in full dress kilt, as though being here was some kind of special ceremony.

Here stood the Rory Drummond of his fitful dreams back in Nevada, after the man had turned and walked out the door. He’d never seen a man in a kilt back then … was it only a few months ago? But he thought the big Scot would fill a tartan the way he filled his craving ass, his famished heart.

~This is a ritual offering.~

His finest clothing, his own clan motto, his naked and vulnerable heart. The man was extending all of it to him in this tiny ramshackle place with no questions asked.

Alex felt a shiver begin in his belly and work itself between his legs and into his fingers as he knelt to remove the fur-tipped pouch slung on Rory's hips.

#The #Kilt #Complex: High Crimes and Sexy Misdemeanors
Book 2 of Nevada Highlander

Zanna Mackenzie said...

If You Only Knew

An extract where Faith finds Zane's climbing apparel rather distracting....

Faith shielded her eyes in the sunlight, watching Zane as he abseiled down the cliff face.
“That was pretty impressive,” Faith said moments later, as Zane appeared at her side, removing his helmet. “But now I know I shouldn’t watch you climb.”
“It’s perfectly safe, honestly. I know what I’m doing. I always do all the checks and I’ve got all the proper equipment. You don’t need to worry.”
“It’s not so much that.”
“What then?” Zane frowned.
“Come on, tell me.”
“Honestly. It’s nothing. Forget it.”
Faith held her hands up in a gesture of surrender.
“OK. OK. Seeing you climb has a strange effect on me. That’s why.”
“I thought you said you weren’t worried,” he said, looking confused.
“I’m not. It isn’t that kind of effect.”
Zane turned to her, a grin quirking the corner of his mouth as he twigged what she meant.
“I think it’s sexy, OK? I think seeing you up there on the cliff face, so confident, strong and capable.” She lowered her voice. “It’s really sexy.”
He took her hand and led her behind a nearby tree.
“Sexy eh? So watching me climb turns you on?”
She nodded.
“And while we’re on the subject,” she went on, “in the interest of full disclosure, your bum looks totally biteable in your climbing gear.”
“Biteable? You want to bite my bum?”
He laughed, pushing her back against the tree and kissing her, lightly, teasingly, on the lips.
“Not right now, but yes. You see? That’s why I really shouldn’t watch you climbing.”
“If it has that effect on you then I disagree. I think you should always watch me climb!”

Amazon link -

My blog -

Taabia Dupree said...

FLAGENTIO'S BOOK 2 in The Anthony Stone Series

Sami turned and looked him over. She frowned and watched Tony try to pull his crotch area and sit.

Determined not to be rejected, Sami stripped off her mini dress. The little cocktail mini was inappropriate attire, she thought, but she’d wanted to make an impression. She knew it was a score when she saw his eyes go straight to her breasts and down to her legs when Tony opened the door on her arrival.

She wore only a tangerine thong with lace around it, and her breasts were plump C cups. Tony salivated. He watched her come towards him. He could not stop himself as he stared at her breasts. He wanted to touch, lick, and suckle her large nipples.

Book 1 Jessica's Obsession

Book 2 Flagentio's

My Writers/Fan Page

Susan Macatee said...

From Civil War holiday romance, The Christmas Ball.

Where the devil is she? He moved toward the ballroom. Perhaps she'd thought to lose herself among the other guests. He sauntered along the wall past chairs and tables, eyes scanning the guests.

"Kirk." Mary approached, a frown on her face. "Whatever's wrong?"

"Why do you think anything's wrong?"

"Because of that fierce scowl you're wearing. And where is Miss Brewster?"

"You don't know?"

She raised her hands, palms out. "Why should I know?"

He drew a deep breath. "I proposed to her and she raced out of the room as if the devil was on her tail."

Mary lifted her gloved hands to her mouth, then dropped them to her waist, her lips curved into a smile. "You proposed? What was her answer?"

"Her answer was no. Then she ran from the room." He raked a hand through his hair. "Now, I've no idea where she's gone."

"Well, she must be here somewhere." Mary spread her arms and scanned the room. "She surely wouldn't have run out into the cold."

"Wouldn't she?" He turned and strode from the ballroom into the entry hall, Mary on his heels. Spotting the doorman, he asked, "My man, have you seen a young woman racing down the hall?"

"Why yes, sir. A young woman ran out the door just a minute ago. I was going to see if she was all right."

Kirk pushed past him and yanked on the door handle. Emerging onto the stoop, he glanced down the steps. His pulse thundered at the sight of Miss Brewster sprawled at the foot of the steps in a heap of satin and petticoats.

Keta Diablo said...

From Decadent Deceptions (Olivia dresses to engage in voyeurism in the brothel)

After an interminable week of waiting, Friday night had arrived. After dinner, Cain sneaked the attire for Olivia's disguise into her room. He placed the items—a starched white shirt, black suspenders, pinstripe black trousers, and one pair of enormous shoes on a chair. Olivia knew she’d have to stuff the latter with newsprint. For the final touch, he plopped a wide-brimmed straw hat on the pile.

“You can’t be serious,” she said.

“Perfectly. Pull the hat down low when you’re meandering through the corridors."

“Tell me about the brothel,” she said, hoping Cain could prepare her for the excursion.

“Immortelles caters to the elite of Savannah. Located three blocks from the District Court building, the structure is the size of a city block. Inside is a parlor, an elegant dining room and the most attractive of the city’s estimated one-hundred soiled doves.”

“One hundred?”

“Yes, prostitution is not a crime, you know.” With his hand on the door latch to leave, he turned to her. “Lark is suspicious these days. Just this morning she said, ‘Something noxious is in the air.’”

“Perhaps she was referring to the manure in the fields,” Olivia said with a smile.

Cain ducked into the hallway and called out, “I think not.”

After adding crushed white tea roses and oil of jasmine to the water, Olivia took a bath. Then she brushed her long hair until her scalp tingled, tied it in a knot at the top of her head and donned the clothes. Resembling inflated gunnysacks, the trousers hung from her hips, not to mention their ungainly length. She stepped into the shoes, hoping they would help, but in the end, scrunched the britches around her waist and secured them with a leather belt. The oversized shirt wasn’t much better. She rolled the sleeves up and tucked the extra fabric into the trousers. Facing the full-length mirror, she did a little half-spin and frowned. Good heavens, she resembled a country bumpkin and could no more pass for a member of the gentry than Cinderella.

Decadent Deceptions (Erotic Romance | Historical)
Keta's Keep:

Anonymous said...

From Royal Regard:

He sat down on the red velvet sofa next to her, the upholstery just a shade darker than her dress. She was nearly a perfect match for this room, the only time he had ever seen a wallflower camouflage herself in scarlet.

Babette James said...

From Convincing Cami (His Girl Next Door #2)

Cami tugged at his shirt, freeing the shirttails from his khakis, and then her bare hands were gliding over his bare skin.
He groaned and slid his hands under her sweater, taking a long moment to savor the smooth heat of her waist, torn between taking all the time he could and greedily indulging in every sensation.
She raised her arms, breaking the kiss just long enough to let him sweep the purple fluff up and off. A lavender satin bra cupped the full curves of her breasts, and her silky blond hair spilled around her shoulders.
She took his breath away. Yes, he’d seen her in swimsuits, but tonight changed everything he imagined he knew.

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Joan Reeves said...

Hey, exquisite authors of EQ! I'm late to the party, but here's what I'm hanging on the Wash Line today.

APRIL FOOL BRIDE, a Romance Novella, part of All Brides Are Beautiful Romances, by Joan Reeves. Available at Amazon, iBooks, Kobo, Nook, and Smashwords.


Maddie looked away. She knew he believed the worst about her, and why not? She was trying to buy him. Yet, it hurt. In a soft, sad voice, she said, "You disdain me. You think I'm a whore."

Jake stood and pulled her to her feet. "Maybe I think you're misguided. Maybe I disdain the fact that you can't be satisfied with what most people would consider a generous income--that you need millions instead. Need them so much you're willing to buy a husband. Or, maybe I'm just wondering what your mouth tastes like?"

He watched her eyes round in shock. "Maybe I'd like to know how your breasts feel in my hands. How you feel beneath me in bed." He pulled her close and brushed a kiss across her mouth. "Maybe I want to know Maddie Quinn the woman."

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