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Sunday, March 29, 2015

Sunday Peek!

Time to talk up your most recent release or current work in progress. In comments, share a sample just
one to six sentences long.

Be sure to add your website/blog link and one link to where your books can be found. Example: Your Amazon Author's Page.

 
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ready-to-go tweet or make your own!

Discover great reads on Exquisite Quills' Sunday Peek!    

3 comments:

E. Ayers said...

The real West accurately portrayed in fiction.

There's lots of excitement here as my ebook, A Rancher's Woman, will soon be showing up in bookstores around the USA in print!

A Rancher's Woman
by E. Ayers

The debate continued late into the night until
Eagle Feathers unwillingly agreed to Many Feathers
marking land and using it as his very own, but he
had to pay for the land and not with the white man's
money.

Many Feathers watched the elder as he stood
and stepped to him. The man removed a knife from
his belt. Many Feathers stood. He steadied his wits
and body as he awaited the sharp blade of the man's
punishment.

Amazon International Buy Links.
http://authl.it/B00HGV37VA

Available as a Kindle Unlimited

Jude Knight said...

First six sentences of my new release, Farewell to Kindness.

George was drunk. But not nearly drunk enough. He still saw his young friend’s dying eyes everywhere. In half-caught glimpses of strangers reflected in windows along Bond Street, under the hats of coachmen that passed him along the silent streets to Bedford Square, in the flickering lamps that shone pallidly against the cold London dawn as he stumbled up the steps to his front door.

They followed his every waking hour: hot, angry, hate-filled eyes that had once been warm with admiration.

He drank to forget, but all he could do was remember.

Buy links on my book page: http://judeknightauthor.com/books/farewell-to-kindness/

Jude Knight said...

First six sentences of my new release, Farewell to Kindness.

George was drunk. But not nearly drunk enough. He still saw his young friend’s dying eyes everywhere. In half-caught glimpses of strangers reflected in windows along Bond Street, under the hats of coachmen that passed him along the silent streets to Bedford Square, in the flickering lamps that shone pallidly against the cold London dawn as he stumbled up the steps to his front door.

They followed his every waking hour: hot, angry, hate-filled eyes that had once been warm with admiration.

He drank to forget, but all he could do was remember.

Buy links on my book page: http://judeknightauthor.com/books/farewell-to-kindness/