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Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Tickle Us Tuesday!

In comments, and in 300 words or less, give us a snippet from your novel that will bring a smile, incite a giggle, or
make us laugh out loud. Don't forget your buy link and website/blog link. Have fun!

Share your participation with a ready-to-go tweet!

Come see my snippet on Exquisite Quills' Tickle Us Tuesday!   


Barbara said...

What a terrific idea--and opportunity to share a bit from our book. Thank you.
Here's a snippet from SILVERHAWK. Giles and Emelin have taken refuge at a nearby castle after he was injured rescuing her from outlaws. A young girl has been set to watching for him to awaken.

Giles still slept when Emelin reached the tower room. His arms were bound—loosely she found—to keep him from moving too vigorously and opening the wound. Although she understood the reasons for it, she didn’t like it. A young girl sat nearby playing with a kitten.

“I’m to watch ’im and call Sister Ressa if’n he wakes up,” the girl announced, popping up from the three-legged stool. “But he’s been right still, just mutterin’ sometimes.”

“Thank you. It’s an important duty. I’m here now, and I think we can relieve him of those ropes, don’t you? Find one of the men, and let’s get them removed.”

The girl nodded, tucked the tabby beneath her chin, and trotted to the door. “I ’spect he’ll be glad you’re here, milady.”

Soon, one of the two men who had been present earlier entered, followed by the little girl. He untied the rope, coiled it and dropped in on the floor by the pallet.

“Thank you,” Emelin said.

He looked pleased and nodded. “Call if’n you need help, milady,” he said. “Or send Missy, here. She’ll fetch me right fast.”

The curious Missy came to stand beside Emelin and looked at the still Giles.

“He be a handsome one, right milady? I ’spect I’ll marry a man just like him. ’Cept not so old, a’ course.” She brought the kitten around to look at the handsome 'old' warrior. “See, Dammit?”

“What did you call your kitten?” Emelin wasn’t sure she heard correctly.

“Dammit,” Missy replied matter of factly. “It’s what my brothers call her. When she wants to play with them, they say, ‘Git outta here, Dammit.’”
Barb Bettis

Tina Donahue said...

This is from Seven Sensuous Days - erotic contemporary - releasing tomorrow March 5 from Ellora's Cave -

In this scene, Tessa's just arrived at Logan's estate for seven sensuous days.

The ends of his tee wiggled with his heavy sigh. He arched one dark eyebrow. “What makes you think if we did that—got to know each other even a little bit as you’ve suggested—that it wouldn’t turn out bad? Could be we’d end up disliking each other intensely.”


He lowered his eyebrow and stared as if he hadn’t expected that answer or he thought she was nuts. “Impossible?”

“Yeah. I’m easy to like. Not high maintenance at all or dumb as a stick. I’m up on current events, and not just those that happen in Hollywood, if you’re wondering.”

Before he could say he had or hadn’t been, Tessa pressed on. “However, I never push my opinions on others. I don’t discuss religion or politics. That especially. I’m totally apolitical, but also fair. I believe in women’s rights, who wouldn’t? Equal pay, too. Being able to break through the glass ceiling, a fair wage for everyone even if they’re not one of the one percent, social programs for those in need, freedom to love whomever you want as long as they’re also a consenting adult. If you’re a conservative, I don’t blame you for feeling as you do, even if it’s kind of one-sided, selfish, and rigid. I—“

He interrupted, “I’m not a conservative.”

“Wonderful.” She beamed.

“And you’re definitely not apolitical,” he added.

Tessa’s face warmed. She shrugged. “I have my beliefs…I just don’t talk about them if the other person isn’t on the same wavelength.”

Logan narrowed his eyes even as the corners of his mouth kept trying to lift in a faint smile.

“Clearly, you and I are,” she murmured and also hoped.

“Are what?”

“On the same wavelength.”

That doused his amusement and desire to flirt quicker than a kick to his balls.”You want us to know about each other?”

She hesitated at the challenge in his question, but still nodded.

“Great.” He stepped closer, towering over her, their thighs touching.

More info:

Tina Donahue

"Heat with Heart"

FB Fanpage:
Amazon author page:
My page at TRR:

Rosemary Morris said...

Extract from Tangled Love
Rosemary Morris

(Madeline Purvey is Chesney’s former mistress. Circumstances have brought Richelda, who Chesney wants to marry, and Richelda together at a social function.

An old gentleman heaved himself to his feet before taking his leave of Madeline Purvey.
Richelda indicated the vacant chair. “Will you not sit, madam?” she asked the fashionable young woman. “May I put a cushion behind your back? I hope you will forgive me for saying you are extremely pale. I daresay that as you grow older you find polite society exhausting. By the early hours of evening you must long for your bed.”
Chesney averted his face in an attempt to hide his amusement, and then bent his head to whisper in Richelda’s ear. “I did not anticipate any country innocent sharpening her claws at Mrs Purvey’s expense.”
A gurgle of laughter escaped Richelda before she turned back to Mrs Purvey. With her hand, she cupped the widow’s elbow with the consideration Chesney imagined Richelda would accord an elderly invalid. Once more she urged Maddy to sit. ‘Is there ought else I can do for you, madam?’ Richelda ignored Maddy’s palpable outrage. ‘Enjoy your wine. It will restore you, madam. Ah, I see you are comfortable so I beg you to excuse me. My aunt beckons.’

Tangled Love is available from: MuseItUp Publishing – Amazon – Barnes and Noble – Smashwords – Omnlit – Coffeetime Romance and elsewhere.

Susan Macatee said...

Here's another snippet from my time travel romance, Thoroughly Modern Amanda.

He wrapped the sheet tightly around him and stepped toward the dresser. Sorting through the clothes with one hand, holding the sheet with the other, he produced what looked like underpants, although they appeared to be knee-length.

He padded back to the bed, noting Amanda glanced toward the hall. Serve her right if her father caught her spying.

"Are you going to stand there and watch? Why'd you come anyway?"

Amanda swallowed. "Of course not. I just thought I should check on you…to see if you needed anything." She appeared to be suppressing laughter at his predicament.

He shuffled to the bed but turned back once to scowl. "So glad I amuse you," he muttered. "As you can see, I'm fine. You can leave now."

She giggled, then quieted. "I'm sorry, but you do look funny walking about in a sheet."

"You wouldn't think it was so funny if I dropped it." He plopped onto the bed.

Her face turned beet red. "You wouldn't dare," she challenged.

He grinned. "Don't bet on it."

Vonnie Davis ~ Romance Author said...

This is from SANTA WORE LEATHERS. Becca is carrying a heavy box of easy-to-assemble bookshelves into her townhouse. ~ Vonnie Davis

A loud rumble roared down the street, and her stomach clenched at the familiar sound. Wolf’s Harley eased to the curb.
“Becca! Don’t. I’ll carry that in for you.”
She pivoted to tell him she didn’t need or want his help. The sudden movement threw her load off balance. Arms clasped around the box, she fell backwards and her spine slammed on the hard ground. Air whooshed from her lungs on impact. Pain exploded in her nose and head.
“Becca! My God.” A set of thick male knees pushed into her side. “Here, let me get this off you.” Wolf shoved the box away as if it were no heavier than a bag of leaves. “Give me a chance to get this helmet off.” Leather rustled and squeaked.
Wet warmth flowed over her lips.
“Oh, sweetheart, looks like your nose is broken.” Strong fingers moved from the bridge of her nose to its tip. The pain made her eyes cross. “Hold on. Let me get my first-aid kit.”
His heat disappeared and running footfalls sounded on his porch. Slowly the spinning stopped, and she blinked to bring the world back into focus. Was her face smashed? She gingerly fingered her nose and cheeks and grimaced when she pulled back a blood-covered hand.
Wolf settled on his knees beside her again. “Some people bleed more than others when their noses break. Don’t be alarmed.” His voice was calm and authoritative as he snapped on latex gloves. Cool alcohol wipes were gently pressed across her face.
“Ith my noth broken?” My God, was that her voice? Why was she speaking with a lisp?
He shined a light in her eyes. “Good retina response.” Chocolate eyes lowered to within inches of hers, minty breath swept across her face and a lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were trying not to smile. “And, yes, sweetheart, your noth is broken. I’ll do my best to set it so it’s still pretty and straight.”
“Thet it? No!”
Wolf gave a nonchalant shrug. “Set might be an extreme word. I’m just going to make sure it’s straight.” His fingertips firmly pressed into her nose and more stars exploded behind her eyes.
“Don’t touch my broken noth.” She batted away his hands.
“Do you want to be called ‘witch’s beak’ for the rest of your life?”
“Witheth beak? Ith it that bad?” Did he know what he was doing? “If my noth needth thet, I want a profethenal to thet it.”
He tore open a paper packet and removed two gauze cylinders. “I had advanced corpsman training in the Navy before I was recommended for the SEALs. Believe me, I’ve handled worse than a broken nose.”
Wolf shoved the gauze up her nostrils.
More fireworks exploded in her head.
“Ow! You big thithead. You hurt me on purpoth.” Her one hand tightened in a fist. If he hurt her again, she was going to belt him.
Those brown eyes of his held humor. “Thithead? We hardly know each other well enough for such intimacies.”

Danita Cahill said...

Excerpt from my romantic suspense thriller, Mist. Available in both eBook and paperback.

He pulled over alongside the road where a female officer talked with a bearded man. The pair stood next to a bicycle with half-filled, lumpy plastic bags strapped to the rear fender. A small American flag hung limply from one handle bar. On the ground nearby was a mud-encrusted work boot.

Kevin stepped from his car. “Hello there,” he addressed the two. “What did we find?”

“This is LeRoy Swank,” Officer Sharon Brown said. She bent slowly and picked up the muddy work boot by the lace, giving both men a peek-a-boo shot at her cleavage in the process.

Kevin couldn’t help thinking the peep show was for his benefit. Of course he looked. So did Mr. Swank. Dangle fruit in front of men and they’re obligated to look. Sharon’s fruit were pears. Not bad, except Kevin preferred peaches. Dianne’s were peaches. Round and firm. He felt a little smile play around his lips.

Sharon gave him a come-hither glance.

Oh, shit. I hope she doesn’t think I’m smiling at her pears.

Danita Cahill said...

I tweeted the link, and will share on my FB author pag, too. Sure appreciate you all letting us share our snippets here!

Happy Read an eBook week! To help celebrate I've put five of my books on sale for Kindle this week for only $0.99 each! (Including MIST).

Danita Cahill said...

Love this! Very clever.

Danita Cahill said...


ML Skye said...

Today, I'm sharing a humorous exchange from Shyler: Finding Home, a Furlough 99 Novella.


Shyler elbowed her way out of the transport and ran through her mental checklist. First, she had to find out who to cajole, threaten, or bribe to be able to work in relative peace or at least not step on toes. Second, find a place to meet, and third, well, she needed to take care of the first two before worrying about number three. She glanced around, found a porter and flagged him down.

"Can you tell me who runs security—not the official kind—on Furlough and where the best place to meet would be?" As he got closer, Shyler realized 'he' was a droid, very lifelike, but a machine nonetheless. "And um… maybe how I can get a message to them?"

Droids always threw her. She never knew if they had to have commands or if simple conversations were possible. And of course it always varied by model.

The blond machine's eyes blinked several times then looked directly at her. "Oh, they'll find you, sweetie cakes. Trust me."

Shyler couldn't help it, she laughed out loud. And felt much more at ease. An android who talked like a flaming queen? Exactly what she needed to feel more at home.

Her outburst stopped a gentleman on the glide path in his tracks. She flicked her gaze sideways and narrowed her eyes. She'd seen him before but couldn't place where. The answer hovered just out of reach, yet she knew he'd come from Mars, the rock she called home.

He had to be from Queen City, the largest metropolis on the red planet. 4.5 million souls strewn throughout—from the swank, high end condos down to the no rent tent squats—and she ran into one of them way out on Furlough?



I hope you enjoyed.

Available here: Amazon


Drop by the blog for more snippets
Visit my website

Thank you for reading.

Bea LaRocca said...

“I need a drink!”
“You’re on! Come on, let’s pack up the rest of this work and bring
it home. We can get to it after we knock back a few.”
“Promises, promises!” she teased suddenly. She desperately
needed to do something normal while her world spun out of control.
Marcus sensed immediately what she needed to cheer her up and
he jumped right into their silly flirting. “What can I say, boss? I mean, I love you dearly, but you just don’t make my dick hard.”
“Oh nice! Make me feel even worse about myself, why don’t
you?” She stood and removed her purse from the drawer. Marcus
grabbed the unread manuscripts off her desk and preceded her out of the room. She turned the lock and pulled the door closed behind her.
“Oh don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with you, except
for the whole ‘not having a penis’ thing,” he teased as they headed to the elevator.
She swatted his bicep playfully. “Hey, I could totally rock a strapon
if I had to!”
Marcus laughed out loud. He actually had to pause for a minute to
contain himself.
“Okay but…what can we do about your enormous boobs?” he
asked finally as they stepped into the elevator and the doors slid
clo“I’ll have you know that my boobs are a perfectly normal size.”
she retorted as he pushed the button for the lobby.
He regarded her skeptically. “That’s a moot point anyway. I’m
into smooth, muscular pecs, not boobs.”
Claire sighed wistfully. “Me too!”
“Finally! We agree on something,” he teased as the elevator doors
slid open.

Bea LaRocca said...

This is from An Imperfect Match Available at