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Monday, February 3, 2014

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!


Rosemary Gemmell said...

Short extract from my Regency novel, Midwinter Masquerade by Romy Gemmell.

Annabelle clasped her hands together at the picture they made: Lady Lenora so elegant and beautiful in her slender, low-cut peacock blue gown and he so tall and handsome, a snowy white cravat visible under the fitted jacket and waistcoat. She had to admit both adults were as handsome a couple as any young buck and innocent maid. She was even more taken with their perfectly blended voices and the occasional glance they each bestowed on the other.

“Well done, child, for suggesting this musical interlude. I confess it’s more entertaining than I’d hoped.”

The whispered voice broke her concentration and Annabelle turned to the older lady in time to catch Lady Pettigrew’s wink as she delivered these words.

Available from Amazon and from Tirgearr Publishing in all e-formats:

Rose Anderson said...

From Loving Leonardo by Rose Anderson
Nicolas is about to get an astounding offer -- a marriage proposal from a bold-as-brass American.
The clock below stairs chimed once, then twice. Miss Elenora Schwaab would arrive at any moment. Sure enough, the bell rang in the front hall and shortly after, I met the woman in my library where Mrs. Fletcher had deposited her.

In a color scheme that would have inspired Pierre-Auguste Renoir to fetch a blank canvas, she wore a cream-and-blue cotton confection accented by a blue-and-cream rose-bedecked bonnet, reticule, and parasol. Excitement shone brightly in eyes the pale turquoise-blue of a clear autumn sky. Ripping off her cream lace gloves, she jumped from her chair to thrust her hand at me. “Sir Nicolas! Thank you for receiving me on such short notice.”

Americans. Chuckling to myself, I bowed over her smaller hand.
“Miss Schwaab, what a pleasure to see you again.”

They had the oddest mannerisms. Not rude, exactly; rather forthright without the stodgier affectations of the Empire. On the whole, Americans reminded me of impressionist artists. The artists violated the rules of academic painting, and Americans violated the rules of conventionality. As a student of nuance, I very much liked it.
Sample this story and more for FREE
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Juli D. Revezzo said...

This is from my paranormal romance novel Passion's Sacred Dance. It is available in Kindle and Paperback from The Wild Rose Press, Barnes and Noble, All Romance Ebooks, or at Amazon:

Stacy sat up straight. Still. Her hand poised gracefully against the desk. Her pose reminded Aaron of an alert shepherdess with her sleek lines, and the graceful reach of her arm set out in fine relief. He wasn’t exactly truthful when he’d called her pretty, and gorgeous didn’t even begin to cover it. She leaned forward a little. Her lavender sweater bunched, showing off her fine cleavage, a little patch he’d like to run his fingers over—or the tip of his tongue.
The breath rushed out of him. Don’t go there. For she was more than a pretty woman to dally with. Much more.

For more of this book and all my others, visit my website:

Rita said...

From upcoming release, Honor Code

The general sat at a large, highly polished wood desk, a panorama of Washington filling the window behind him. Major Thornton moved to stand easy in front of the desk, hands clasped behind her back. An a-j-squared away marine officer in her service A uniform with four rows of ribbons and badges staring at her past and what she considered the only misstep of her career.
Moore, a handsome man in his fifties leaned back in the chair, tracing a finger over his sensuous mouth, grey eyes looking her over like a starving man in front of a buffet.
“Nobody’s come down on you for that uniform?” he shook his head.
“No, Sir. No complaints.” Her tailored uniforms were not always appreciated by senior staff. Dinosaurs, who didn’t care for women in the military much less they way they filled out a uniform. In her case, she never understood what the fuss was about. She was too tall, too skinny, her shoulders too broad, only average boobs and barely enough ass to hold up her pants.
The general stood and circled the desk. The sleek dark hair she’d once been so fond of running her hands through showed veins of silver. More lines defined his eyes. His own tailored uniform encased a lean powerful body. He’d grown more distinguished in the time they’d been apart. His classic Native American looks served him well. Too bad he was such an asshole.

Rita writes about military heroines. Extraordinary women and the men they love.
Previous books are Under Fire and Under Fire: The Admiral

Babette James said...

From my contemporary romance, Summertime Dream.

Christopher was staring and couldn’t help himself.
She might not be a kid, but she’s still way too young for you.
He dragged his mind off the way her soft rosy mouth closed on the bottle. Marguerite. Margie. Olsson? He’d run into another Olsson when he first arrived. A friendly guy with an odd name, Mats, old enough to be Margie’s dad or grandfather. He could see some resemblance about the eyes. Margie’s wide, hazel eyes sparkled like a deep trout pool…
Snap out of it.
She was sure cute, though. With her fresh young face, he’d taken her at first glance for a college kid. Well, at almost twenty-five, she wasn’t long out of college. A fascinating line of white buttons ran from mid-calf to collarbone on her sleeveless, light blue dress sprinkled with red, white, and navy flowers. The same light pink polish sparkled on her bare toes as on her fingers. No rings. She wore her sunny brown hair caught up in a red ribbon bow, with curls escaping everywhere, and the desire to pull that ribbon and let down her hair was dizzying.
He swallowed hard. Yeah. He’d definitely been working too hard lately, because three sips of beer couldn’t account for how this cute slip of a woman made his head spin.

Kathy Fischer-Brown said...

From my historical, The Partisan's Wife (Book 2 of The Serpent's Tooth trilogy)

Anne wriggled to loosen the stays. The memory of being stifled by an over-zealous maid servant brought a bitter smile to her lips. Once she had been Lady Anne Darvey, the only child of the Marquess of Esterleigh, last in a line of an old and titled family. She had dressed in the finest French embroidered silks in the latest fashion. Her father had spared no expense to have her present herself in a manner befitting her station. And now she would be the perfect example of the ‘new American bride.’ Married in homespun linen dyed a faded blueberry blue, with a fichu of old but fine white muslin covering her shoulders and chest.

“Mrs. Dugan!” Lavinia huffed, holding up the blue and white striped jacket for Anne to slip on. “I will not be one to disparage her marital state, but as a sutler, she has more interest in flirtations with the men who drink her grog than in providing essentials. And everything else in such short supply!” She smoothed the back of the garment and moved around to the front. “One moment, dear, while I fix this.” She straightened the ruffles at the elbows. “Martha, fetch the scarf. What a surprise to find something so fine among her wares.” Lavinia arranged the bodice so that it framed Anne’s torso in its neat conical shape, and began gently fastening the ties down the front. “A few months more and you’ll need to let this out again.”

bettye griffin said...

From my family saga, SECRETS & SINS:

Chicago, 1952
Julia and the other colored students had been left out of the parties their white classmates were holding to celebrate graduation, but her father had offered his home as a site for her to hold a party. It had actually turned into two parties in one, for the parents of her classmates had come as well, and they were having a merry time. Everyone except Julia’s father and the parents of one of her classmates, Gardner McKay, worked in service for the wealthy white families of Winnetka, Wilmette, or Kenilworth as maids, cooks, chauffeurs, gardeners, handymen, and lived in separate quarters on the estates, usually in cold rooms above detached multi-car garages. But tonight there were no uniforms to be seen; everyone had dressed in their finest.

Out of all the mothers present, Julia’s own mother stood out. Just thirty-seven years old, Miriam Scott looked breathtakingly lovely in a full-skirted shimmery dress with big fuchsia flowers on a navy background. Miriam had made the dress herself, as well as the off-the-shoulder lemon yellow dress Julia wore. It was very close to the dress Elizabeth Taylor had worn in A Date with Judy when the actress, two years older than Julia, was sixteen and already a ravishing beauty. Julia had seen it in the movies with her best friend Lorraine Hawkins, and they both loved that dress. They’d been just fourteen back in ‘48 when the movie came out, but they’d never forgotten it. The cinched waist showed off Julia’s slim midsection, and it bared both her shoulders, but didn’t dip too low in the front. It had been a complicated dress to make, with an abundance of flowing material in the skirt and a snug-fitting bodice, but Miriam was a skilled seamstress. It seemed to Julia that her mother could do anything…except hear and speak.

Get your copy and indulge in some sinfully good reading (and the prequel, Sinner Man, is FREE!).

E.Ayers said...

Sometimes when life is falling apart, something wonderful happens.
From my sexy Valentine story ASK ME AGAIN

She laughed. "A woman on my budget has to know where to buy clothes. It's amazing what you can find when you know where to look."
"So where do you shop for all these wonderful things?"
"You won't believe me when I say that I probably only spend a few dollars a month on clothes. My panties and pantyhose are my biggest expense."
"No way. That's a cashmere sweater you're wearing."
"Thrift store finds. Everything! I try to stop in weekly to see what they have. I probably haven't spent a total of seventy-five dollars for all my coats. My black wool with the velvet collar was the most expensive and that one was only about forty dollars."
She laughed. "Most of my furniture has come from there, too. You just have to watch and wait. I try to keep a few dollars hidden in my wallet at all times so if I see something, I can buy it. I try to stick to classic styles. They can be worn for years."
"That's amazing. I bought my mom a cashmere sweater and it cost several hundred dollars."
Torrey giggled. "And how do you think they wind up in thrift stores?"
He shrugged.
"Somebody gained a few pounds, didn't like the color, or they hated cashmere. Lucky me, I buy it for a few dollars."

Anonymous said...

Excerpt from Love at First Click (a Bellham Romance). Joel, a photographer, is picking Heather up for a photo shoot on the beach. - Danita Cahill

At his knock, Heather immediately swung open the door.

Joel took a step back to get the full picture of her beauty. She wore the pink dress and her feet were bare. A pair of sandals dangled from her fingers.

“You look breathtaking,” Joel said. Even her feet are pretty. Why hadn’t he noticed her feet yesterday, in the pool or hot tub? Because I was admiring other parts of her body, that’s why.

“Thank you,” Heather said.

Her voice seemed different this morning. Strained.

“I wish I’d brought a different pair of shoes,” Heather said. “These don’t look right with this dress. The heels I brought look better, but they won’t work in the sand.”

“Why don’t you wear the sandals and bring the heels?”

She shot him a questioning look.

“There’s a method to my madness. You’ll see,” Joel said.

“Okay. Let me grab a sweater, too. It’s bound to be chilly this early on the beach.” Heather slipped on the sandals, grabbed a wrap and her heels, joined Joel in the hall, and shut the door behind her. She pulled on her sweater as they treaded down the empty corridor.

“I’ll keep you warm.” Joel put an arm around her.

She stiffened.

That’s not a good sign.

Love at First Click, new release, available as eBook or paperback:

Anonymous said...

Forgot to say thanks for the opportunity to share an excerpt, and read excerpts by other authors. Fun!
-Danita Cahill

Anonymous said...

Love this! I can so relate. Thrift store finds are the things I often wind up treasuring most. Fun excerpt.
- Danita Cahill

Joy Avery said...

Joy Avery
Contemporary Romance
Available in print and eBook:

The idea of showing up at Second Empire restaurant, in full wedding attire, to confront the man who’d jilted her at the altar two months earlier had seemed like a grand idea to Passion Phillips two hours ago; not so much now as she stood in the Pine Room of the restored Dodd-Hinsdale house.

Dasher’s eyes glowed intense as hot embers as he watched her with a hard stare. Those captivating brown eyes had once made her dizzy with desire. Had the setting been different, they probably still could. The reality of the admission caused a knot in her stomach.

The other diners at the table, presumably colleagues, stared at her as if she’d recently been released from a mental institution and still donned the facility-issued wardrobe instead of the Vera Wang gown she wore.

The strapless, natural-waist ballerina gown had cost over six thousand dollars. It’d been much more than she’d ever dreamed of paying for a gown she would only wear once. In awe, she’d marveled at the bottom layers of laser-cut organza with a floral pattern etched in, as well as the detachable bustier top with its sweetheart neckline. It wasn’t long before she’d fallen in love with the pricey garment. And thanks to the man in front of her, it had been a total waste of money.

Thanks for reading!


Jessi said...

What a fun post and promo op! Thanks for hosting it! Here's an excerpt from my time-travel romance set in 16th century Scotland WISHING FOR A HIGHLANDER:

Darcy had been punched in the gut plenty, but never had he been nearly doubled over by the sight of a woman. Malina came out of Edmund and Fran’s bedroom dressed in his mother’s finest gown, which he’d plucked from the wardrobe up at Fraineach after deciding with no small amount of self-flagellation that he’d go through with Aodhan’s plan. The gown draped her from shoulder to floor in forest-green velvet. Gold ribbon wrapped her just below her bosom in a high waistline that hid the gentle swell of her belly. Ivory silk covered her arms and graced her neckline, which was low and so tight her creamy bosom pressed at the silk as if impatient to burst free.

She cleared her throat and he realized he’d been staring at that low neckline and the bounty it tried in vain to conceal. He snapped his eyes up to hers. They blazed with emerald humor.

“I see I’m about the same height as your mother,” she said, poking the toe of her borrowed slipper from under the hem.

Fran bustled around her, frowning at the poor gown’s straining neckline. “Aye, though ye’re a bit more—” She pressed her lips and made a motion with her hands in the general vicinity of her own bosom. “As am I, dear, as am I. ’Tis tight, but ’twill have to do. By the look on poor Darcy’s face, I dinna think he minds.”

LOL! I still love this scene even though I've read it about 30 times through edits and whatnot.

WISHING FOR A HIGHLANDER is on Amazon & Barnes n Noble

Rose Anderson said...

So many great outfits today!

Amanda DeWees said...

Thank you for the opportunity to post a snippet from WITH THIS CURSE, my new historical gothic romance! It’s now at Amazon ( ) and B&N (

Learn more on my website:

My claret-red velvet evening toilette would make its first appearance this evening, and although I was alert for any imperfection as Henriette dressed me, I could find in the mirror nothing to cause me concern. The reception bodice had the fashionable square neckline and tight three-quarter sleeves, and was trimmed in ruched satin bands of the same claret color as the velvet. A velvet apron-style swag, trimmed with a pleated satin flounce, surmounted the satin skirt and attached to a poufed overskirt, caught up with satin rosettes, that extended into a long train behind. The tiny garnets inset in the front buttons winked in the light, and I drew on white kid gloves as Henriette dressed my hair in an elaborate upswept arrangement with descending sausage curls that nestled on one shoulder. As I was giving my toilette a last examination before the mirror, a knock sounded on the dressing-room door.

“Come in,” I called, and Atticus stepped into the room, wearing his black evening suit with white tie. His auburn hair was smooth and gleaming, his impeccably tailored tailcoat set off his fine broad-shouldered form admirably, and altogether he was so handsome that I felt a dart of uncertainty that I would look suitable next to him. “Will I do?” I asked.

He took a moment before answering, giving me a long look that took me in from the toes of my evening slippers to the small feathered ornament Henriette had pinned in my hair. When he smiled, I felt my shoulders relax, releasing some of my tension. “You’re magnificent,” he proclaimed.

Juliet Waldron said...

Thanks for the opportunity to post! From "Hand-Me-Down Bride", an old-fashioned country style romance.

As Sophie began to pack her things, putting needle, thimble and thread away into a lidded box, Karl suddenly said, "But you've got to change first, into something better for a ramble."
"But Karl, I must wear the black."
Into the silence which followed, Divine stuck an oar. "Never you mind ‘bout that, Miz Sophie." She, too, put down her mending, and arose, in a swish of calico. "I know jes’ the dress. Come on with me." She took possession of Sophie's arm.
"You get her rigged up, Mrs. D," said Karl, shooting a grin in their direction, "and I'll be mighty grateful to you."
Sophie found herself hustled into the house and straight up the stairs. "Girl," Divine scolded as she marched Sophie up, "you sure don't know nothin' 'bout ro-mance. I tell you true, I don' think I seen him knock off work once during the last two years."
"But what to wear?"
"The green one I saw your Aunt Ilga carry in the first day you come here."
"But, Mrs. Daniels, um, that--"
They had entered Sophie's room from the hallway, Divine sliding her hand along the balustrade as they went. "I'll just fetch it out." She headed directly to the closet.
Bird song drifted through the windows as Divine, smiling her bountiful smile, swirled back with a dress of green linen. It was an "English" dress par excellence, one with the kind of neck which required a shawl to be as modest as Sophie thought she should be. Except for one afternoon tea in Philadelphia, Sophie had never worn it.
"Not another word from you Missy." Divine spread the dress out on the bed, she began to help Sophie out of her black.

Lee Guzman said...
This comment has been removed by the author.