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Thursday, September 15, 2016

Throwback Thursday! #IndieThursday


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, share a tempting snippet from your older works, 300 words or less. Don't forget your buy link and website/blog link. Have fun!

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6 comments:

Toni V.S. said...

From Wizard's Wife, published by Class Act Books:

“Megan, darlin’.” He came toward her. “I’ve somethin’ to tell you an’ I think you’d best be sittin’ down.” Hands on her shoulders, he guided her backward until the backs of her legs touched one of the Chippendale chairs.

“I don’t want to sit down.” She shook off his hands,stepping away from the chair. “Just tell me, David. Whatever it is, we’ll work through it.”

She didn’t know why she added that. The words seemed to come out by themselves. What’s there to work through?

He nodded, backed away a couple of paces and just stood there, looking at her. The silence lengthened. It was so quiet Megan could hear sounds from other areas of the house sifting through the locked door; Ossian’s quiet footsteps--hearing them meant the manservant wasn’t lurking outside the door, thank God. His twin sister Brigid puttering around in the kitchen. Even the oak tree growing near their secondfloor
bedroom scratching its branches against the bay window.

Everything was moving and making noise. Everything except David. When she was ready to scream at him, to order him to say something--anything--he took a deep
breath, looked her straight in the eye, and spoke.

“Megan, I’m a faery.”


Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Wizards-Wife-Toni-V-Sweeney-ebook/dp/B01D7WSKRC/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1473950186&sr=8-2&keywords=wizard%27s+wife#nav-subnav

Toni V.S. said...

From THE EARTHMAN'S BRIDE by Icy Snow Blackstone, from Class Act Books:

Alcin left the window to sit in the chair next to Martin’s, facing his daughter. He took her hands, holding them between his own, reflecting how warm her skin felt, how soft against his spear-toughened, callused palms. “If we gain a truce, there’ll be
no more fighting by anyone.”

She was still frowning and shaking her head, and the tightening of his fingers around hers only confused her more. “But…the only other way is through marriage, and the Governor has no female relatives for you to take as a wife.”

It was time to say it. Taking a deep breath, Alcin forced out the words, trying to speak as gently as possible. “The Governor himself has no wife, my daughter.”

To his surprise, she smiled slightly. “Who would be insane enough to want to marry him?”

Neither answered, both men simply sat there staring at her. The silence began to grow and lengthen, until Alcin said softly, “The daughter of the man who calls for the truce, child.”

“B-but you have only one dau—” At first, she didn’t understanding the inference in his words, then the full meaning of Alcin’s words came to her. “Me? Y-you wish me to marry that-that alien? Oh, no, no, no, no!” Her voice became shrill. Martin half-rose from his chair, reaching towards her but Rebeka quickly quieted, accusing in a shaky tone, “Father, you haven’t thought this through very well!”

Martin relaxed.

“I’ve thought this out very clearly, daughter,” Alcin sounded stern, as if he
were talking to one of the young men he was training to fight. “It’s the only way.”

“Let one of the others send his daughter. Surely there are other girls here older and
prettier than I am.”

“I’m the leader of the Elius.” He had to reason with her, wanted her to accept her destiny of her own free will. “I’ll be the one asking for a truce, and it must be my daughter sent as my pledge, my hostage, to keep the peace, just as it must be my daughter Philip Hamilcar accepts as his promise to maintain that peace from now on.”

“I’m just a child,” she persisted. “I know nothing about men and their ways.”

That much was true. Alcin forbade Martin giving her more than the basic knowledge of what happened to young bodies at that turning point in their lives, to keep her from becoming interested in some young man, and thus preserve her virginity. Now, he wondered if that had been the wrong thing to do. Martin had said the boy was lusty. Perhaps young Hamilcar would be more interested if his daughter’s maidenhead had already been taken.

“Master Martin’ll teach you what you need to know.”

“I haven’t ever been kissed by anyone other than you and my brothers.”

“Rebeka, you have to do this!” Alcin wanted no more arguments. As he forced himself to
speak calmly, he reflected how once he’d been lauded for his diplomacy and tact. Thirty years of near-primitive warfare had certainly done away with that.

“You have to marry Hamilcar, Rebeka.” Martin broke in, adding before Alcin could speak again, “But it won’t be for long.”

“What do you mean?”

Again, Alcin caught her hands, his grip uncomfortable, making her fingers pale under its pressure. “You must marry Governor Hamilcar, Rebeka, make him comfortable in your presence, get him to trust you, and then…you must kill him.”


Amazon Link: https://www.amazon.com/Earthmans-Bride-Icy-Snow-Blackstone-ebook/dp/B01JPNKVCY/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1473950633&sr=1-1-fkmr0&keywords=Bride+of+the+Beast+by+Icy+Snow+BLACKSTONE#nav-subnav


Tony-Paul de Vissage said...

EXCERPT FROM Death in the Blood by Tony-Paul de Vissage, published by Class Act Books:

“Remember how it felt, when I took you, Kit, how good it was? It’ll be the same when you take her.”

He didn’t want to listen, wanted to press his hands to his ears and blot out the sound of Honor's voice telling to do those wicked things to Bess. And then....

He took a deep breath and the living scent wafted to him, the smell of young vibrant Life. Kit gasped and closed his eyes, chest heaving. He inhaled, and was overwhelmed by the sharp, metallic scent of it, gasping as if he’d run a long and difficult race. Ahhh…the smell was as delightful and overpowering as the richest perfume, like the aroma of a banquet to a starving man.

“Do it, Kit.” Honor whispered in his ear, voice soft and urging. “She’s waiting.”

“I can’t.” He made a final feeble protest. “She’s a friend.”

“She can’t be a friend.” Honor answered with an argument he couldn’t refute. “She’s human.”

It’s true. I can’t deny it. Just as he couldn’t deny the pull of the scent of her blood, like a titillating fragrance of some heady tropical flower. It reached out, wrapping itself around him, enveloping him in its living bouquet, pulling him toward her. With a growl, Kit seized the girl by the shoulders. Though she shuddered at his touch, she didn’t fight or turn away. She couldn’t, for once she looked into his eyes, she was unable to move.

Unmoving, perhaps, but nevertheless, she was terrified. The widening of her pupils told him that. He could see it in her face, feel it in the tremor of her body, hear it in the frantic thumping of her heart. In sheer delight, Kit listened to the rush of blood through the girl’s veins as it warmed her flesh, filling her, making the delicate blue vessels swell and visibly pulsate.

She whimpered a protest, the only sound she could make.

“Shh.” He put a finger under her chin, bending to kiss her on the mouth. The trembling became stronger. Kit touched his lips to her cheek, arms going around her, body pressing against hers, the heat of her skin…the heat of her fear…burning through him, calling to him…urging him to act. She’s a Breather, a mere vessel holding the dark wine, an object of clay to be broken and drained and tossed aside...and I’m so thirsty...


Amazon Link: https://www.amazon.com/Death-Blood-Tony-Paul-Vissage/dp/1938703189/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1473951287&sr=1-1&keywords=Death+in+the+Blood+by+Tony-Paul+de+Vissage

Barbara White Daille said...

This is from A Rancher's Pride, the first of my Flagman's Folly books:

“Ronnie was here,” his mom said.

He frowned. He hadn’t seen his ex-wife in five years. “What did she want? To drop off an invitation to her wedding?”

“No.” Sharleen brushed her fingertips across her temple.

A nervous gesture he hadn’t seen, either, since the months right after his daddy’s death. He sank into the chair beside hers. “Just let me have it, Mom. What did she want?”

“She dropped something off, but not an invitation. She brought a little girl with her. Four years old. Ronnie said she’s your daughter.”

“What? That’s impossible.”

“I’m not sure that it is.” She waved toward the arched doorway. “See for yourself.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he rose and moved to the door. He had to brace himself before he could step into the living room. Everything looked familiar, except the child sitting on one of the couches.

A beautiful little girl.

The daughter he’d always hoped for, the start of the family he’d never had.

He shook his head. Ronnie had never told a true story in her life. This child couldn’t be his.

As he and Sharleen moved into the room, she looked up.

The girl’s eyes shone in the light from the table lamp. Silver-gray eyes surrounded by dark lashes, a perfect match to his own.

His throat tightened. He felt frozen in place.

She gave him a shy smile.

He’d seen that half-twisted grin in plenty of his own childhood pictures. Not impossible after all. The child was his.

He hadn’t the first idea of what to say and went for the standard opening line. “What’s your name?”

Sharleen rested her hand on his arm. “Her name’s Becky,” she told him. “But she can’t hear you, Sam. She’s deaf.”

A Rancher’s Pride

www.BarbaraWhiteDaille.com

Thanks for the chance to share a clip, EQ!

Nightingale said...

Love For Sale - Sci-fi Romance - Linda Nightingale

The most beautiful man in the world froze with his hand on the door. “Please don’t. This is a misunderstanding.” He blew out a long breath. “However, if that is what you want, I must advise you that Mayfair Electronics, 21 Dover Street, London, W1S 4LT will accept return of a flawed unit for a full refund.”

“Stop! You sound like a robot.” Her fisted hands struck the air.

He didn’t flinch. “I am a robot. That’s why this is an inane conversation."

“Inane? I find you with another woman in the bedroom, and this conversation is silly? Oh, no, Christian. Did you invite her here?” Why couldn’t she stop hurting herself and let him go, lock the door and email Mayfair for a courier pickup?

Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the door. “She knocked. I answered and kept her outside until it started to rain. She was talking about the club and telling me, again, that I’d be a success as a male dancer. Being a success at something would be a bloody miracle. At any rate, half-jokingly, I asked her to teach me to dance. The End.”
“Not quite. Why did you slip her out behind my back?”
“I wished to avoid a scene like this.” His voice shaded deeper, darker. “And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“There, it’s said. You can come back in now and stop pretending you’re leaving.” She waved a hand, half-heartedly beckoning. “You’ve got nowhere to go.”

He inhaled sharply as if she had punched him in the stomach. “I’m quite aware of that fact. I do not like seeing you this upset. Please call Mayfair tomorrow. I’ll voluntarily deactivate. They will dispatch a FedEx pickup for me.”

Nearly human. Though he didn’t have a heart, his emotions could be damaged.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Love-Sale-Linda-Nightingale/dp/1509201807/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1473961001&sr=8-2&keywords=linda+nightingale
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LindaRae said...

THE LOVE OF A RAKE by Linda Rae Sande, now available for Kindle Unlimited!

At thirty-five, Randall Roderick, Marquess of Reading, decides it's time to trade in his life as the ‘Rake of Reading’ for the life of a married man. Trouble is, his reputation precedes him. When Constance meets him in the park, she's intrigued by the gentleman she thinks is a well-to-do cit with a fascination for horse racing. Determined to discover what’s become of her inheritance and then return to her home and horses to live as an independent woman, she’s not interested in being courted. Or is she? It may take a bit of horse sense for these two to get on the right track in “The Love of a Rake”.