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Thursday, September 11, 2014

Throwback Thursday!

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

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ready-to-go tweet or make your own:

Discover great reads. Exquisite Quills' Throwback Thursday!    


E. Ayers said...

Nothing like foot in mouth!

A NEW BEGINNING (Rick and Dallas' Story) (A River City Novel Book 2)

Amy dragged Dallas to the other room. "You didn't tell me what a hunk that one guy is. How do you manage all day long around him? He's gorgeous! I'd kill for a date with him."

"Berto? He's a sweet guy. And yes, he's got some muscles on him." Dallas went back into the studio. "Hey, Berto, Amy thinks you're hot," she said in Spanish knowing that Amy had French in school. Dallas could tell she had embarrassed him in front of his co-worker and their chitchat was typical of two men teasing each other. "Go, ask her out. She'll say yes. She's in the other room drooling over the thought of a date with you, but she doesn't speak Spanish. And by the way, you'd better be on your best behavior because I happen to know that she's still a virgin," Dallas continued in Spanish.

Berto got quite shy when Amy entered the room. He continued to hang the curtain rods, but would sneak little glimpses at Amy when he could.

When Berto was done hanging the rods, he came back to Dallas and in Spanish asked, "Are you joking with me?"

"No, she took one look at you and her heart started pounding," Dallas returned in Spanish. "She's a good Catholic girl. Ask her for a date."

Berto smiled at Amy and she shyly smiled back.

"I'm trying to get him to ask you out," Dallas informed her friend.

"But how would we communicate? I don't speak Spanish. Of course, with that body who needs to talk! He's one gorgeous hunk of testosterone - all those muscles. Oh, how I'd love to get my hands on him. He's so incredibly sexy. Absolutely lick-able."

Dallas fell into hysterics.

Berto grinned and then in his best English he said, "You don't have to speak Spanish. My English is fine."
Available as a Kindle Unlimited

Even Sultry said...

Bravais knew all too well the name of the ship that now pursued them. The vessel was miles away, but she could see its masthead in her mind’s eye as clearly as if she’d seen it yesterday. A tall woman, one hand holding on to the ship, the other outstretched, a dagger wrapped in hateful fingers. The frigate’s name was written in the same color as the words themselves. ‘Blood Maiden”.
Bravais scanned the horizon, hoping an escape might present itself. Fate, with her fickle sense of irony, showed Bravais a way out that was nearly as full of danger as turning back upon their pursuer and fighting. A quick strike of lightning flashed in the distance, directly ahead. Bravais smiled.
“Take the wheel, Mr. Smyth!” Bravais shouted. “Dead ahead.”
“Aye captain.” The old man said quietly as he assumed his position. Bravais nodded to him as he looked ahead, and then back to her. He looked down a moment, then straight ahead to do his duty to his friend and captain.
Bravais looked once more toward the distant ship. Still too far away to be seen, Bravais resisted the urge to grab the glass once more. Her instincts told her the Blood Maiden was still pursuing. Bravais leapt down the short steps, going into her cabin and closing the door behind her. Bravais walked over to a long chest in the corner of her captain’s quarters. Withdrawing a key from her belt, Bravais opened the lid, rummaging through the assorted items within until she found what she was looking for. She withdrew a pistol, its barrel lengthened to increase its range. This was the weapon she’d need if the Blood Maiden came close enough to board. She didn’t want its captain coming anywhere near her, she knew she’d need the longest shot she could get.
Bravais couldn’t keep her mind from going back to that dark place in her past, when she’d sailed aboard the ship that now pursued them. Her captain’s name echoed within her mind as the woman’s face appeared unbidden. Emerald Dubois.
It had been years since Bravais had seen her, but the woman’s face was as clear as Bimini’s waters. Bravais shrunk from the long black locks and piercing dark eyes of her former captain. Thin cheeks framed the woman’s face. Thin eyebrows curved inward in the disapproving way she’d look before administering one of her cruel punishments. Bravais could see the woman standing over her, the purple and black of her shirt and breeches shining in the darkness. Emerald had always worn her shirt nearly all the way open, tempting her full breasts to emerge every time she walked. Her thin, lithe figure walked with a cat-like grace. Emerald Dubois was as dangerous as she was cruel. And she was heading toward the Bladed Rose.

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Susan Macatee said...

From 2009 time travel romance, Erin's Rebel.

His dark gaze narrowed as he fastened the final button on his shirt. "Can it wait until later?"

"No." She shook her head. "I've been keeping this from you, and now I've got to tell you the truth."

He sighed, his eyes taking on a haunted look. What did he think she was about to tell him?

"Go ahead if you must." He paced the length of the bed.

She drew a steadying breath and exhaled slowly. "I don't know how I can expect you to believe this, but here goes..."

He watched her expectantly.

"I've come from a distant place."

"Yes, I know you came from Ireland."

"No. That’s not it...the place I've come from doesn't yet exist." She rose from the bed and pulled on her wrapper. After pacing back and forth, she turned to face him. "I've come from the future."

He frowned. "The future? What future?"

"The twenty-first century." His eyes widened. She was crazy to have thought he'd ever believe her. "Until the accident when I was told I fell off a horse, I'd been living more than one-hundred and forty years in the future."

His dark eyes hardened. Why had she said anything?

Now that she'd gone this far, she had to tell him all of it. "I had a life there and a fiancé. We broke it off because I couldn't stop dreaming about you."

"This is utter nonsense." He raked his hand through his hair.

She held up her hand, desperately needing him to understand. "It didn't make sense to me at first, either."

"If what you say it true, how and why are you here now?"

"I'm not sure how, but I do know why." She reached her hand out to him. "I've come back in time for you, Will."

Mellie said...

From Gambler's Folly--

“Cara, are you alright? I was worried,” she heard in her ear. Damiano kissed her cheek.
“I’m fine now, Dam. Very glad you’re here.”
As the young men tried to escape, Damiano’s men stepped
forward to keep them near.
“What were you doing with my wife?” Damiano asked, in a
perfectly conversational tone.
“Just talkin’, man. Nothin’,” said the apparent leader. “What’s it
to you?”

The one with the knife decided he was tough enough to threaten
his way out. Brandishing the knife, he shouted, “You all just back
down and nobody gets hurt.”

Damiano looked at him, amused, and said one word. “Marco…”

In seconds and a possible broken wrist, the knife was confiscated.
“Anyone else feel brave? No? Then let’s get back to my question.”
“Really man, just talking.”
“About what?” Damiano asked.
“You know, foxy lady out on her own. Thought she might have
something to sell. Ain’t a crime.”
“Unless you give her no way out,” Damiano answered. “Which is
what you did.” Shaking his head, he continued. “No way out and
threatening her with a knife. It’s bad for business. Tell me, do you
know who I am?”
“Why should I know that?”
“It’s always good to know who you are dealing with in this town,
isn’t it, cara?”
Answering, Karianna said, “Yes it is, Dam. It can be very
Taking a good look at the young man in front of him, he asked,
“Does the name Damiano Leone mean anything to you?”
“Leone?” The young man licked his lips nervously. “He’s
supposed to be some big shot with the underworld, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I am. And shortly, I will know who you are and what I’m
going to do with you.”

Daryl Devore said...

Sexy Red Hood - erotic contemporary romance by Daryl Devore

When the elevator doors slid open, Red stepped into the hallway. Before her, stood the impressive glass and brass doors of Hood's Chocolatier--the corporate offices of one of the country's largest independent chocolate makers. She stepped through the doorway, and marched toward her cubicle.
Three steps from her destination, the word, "Esmeralda!" broke the silence.
Caught! She sighed, formed a smile, turned. "Yes, Mother?"
"Where have you been? I've called and called."
"I noticed. Six voice mails and fourteen text messages. Nothing said urgent. So what's the big deal?" She frowned. "Is it Grandma?"
Her mother threw her hands up. "Yes!"
"What? What's wrong with her?"
"She's driving me out of my mind."
Red bit back the sentence – Oh happy day – and instead managed to say, "What's she done now?"
"Not here. Come into my office."
Entering at the door marked R. Hood, Red had barely stepped into the office, when her mother pushed her aside and closed the door. "Your grandmother's booked a stateroom on a cruise ship and is taking a man with her."
Sensing So, was the wrong answer, Red let her mother vent whatever bothered her.
"A man. Did you hear me?"
"Yes, Mother." Red unbuttoned her coat, dropped her gloves, scarf and onto the seat next to her then settled in the brown leather chair in front of the desk. Her mother walked around and sat behind her large, hand carved, oak desk. It provided an imposing barrier between mother and daughter.
"I haven't told you this before, but your grandmother's going through your grandfather's money faster than you can go through a tub of maple walnut ice cream after a breakup."
Buy Link – Amazon -

Blog – Erotic Notions –

Rosemary Morris said...

Extract from False Pretences – Regency Mystery and Romance

Miss Chalfont looked down at a letter. ‘No, your guardian, who I have no doubt has your welfare at heart, still wishes to remain incognito. But, my dear child, you are fortunate. Your guardian has arranged for you to marry monsieur le Baron de Beauchamp.’
Annabelle looked up with a mixture of astonishment, disbelief and intense indignation at the arrangement that took no heed of her wishes. ‘I am to marry a man I have never met!’
With restless fingers, Miss Chalfont adjusted her frilled mobcap. ‘Yes, your guardian has arranged for you to marry monsieur le Baron tomorrow.’
Annabelle stared at her kind teacher as though she had turned into a monster. ‘Mon dieu!’ she raged reverting to the French she spoke as well as English when she was a small child. ‘My God, tomorrow! My guardian expects me to marry a Frenchman tomorrow. Miss Chalfont, surely you do not approve of such haste.
'Do not take the Lord’s name in vain.’ Miss Chalfont tapped her fingers on her desk. ‘My approval or disapproval is of no consequence. Your guardian wishes you to marry immediately so there is little more to be said. A special licence has been procured and the vicar has been informed.’ Miss Chalfont smiled at her. ‘You have nothing to fear. This letter informs me that monsieur speaks English and lives in this country.’
Annabelle scowled. Her hands trembled. For the first time, she defied her head mistress. ‘Nothing to fear? My life is to be put in the hands of a husband with the right to .…beat me….or….starve me, and you say I have nothing to fear, Miss Chalfont! Please believe me when I say that nothing will persuade me to marry in such haste.’
Not the least display of emotion crossed the head teacher’s face. ‘You should not allow your imagination to agitate your sensibilities. For all you know monsieur is charming and will be a good, kind husband.’
On the other hand, he might be a monster,’ Annabelle said.

Buy links:

Victoria Adams said...

Dancing in Circles - book 1 in the Circles Trilogy.
"Have you seen the new guy? Stud material." Tricia sighed as she texted and walked with her friends down the school hallway. "That body...that face...those eyes."
"Well aware of his anatomical structure." Francine sniffed. "I don't think he's all that great."
"You?" Tricia put her hand on her chest. "Are rejecting the most perfect assemblage of male anatomy in this whole deprived – or is it depraved – school?"
"What aren't you telling us?" Jennifer popped the top on her lip-gloss-of-the-month and coated her lips with Swanky Pink. "Oh God. Ssh. Here he comes." The subject of their discussion headed in their direction.
Tricia leaned closer to Jennifer. "The gods did right by this one. His chest looks like it's going to burst right through his shirt."
Sexually intriguing. Julie stiffened at her thought. What the…?
Francine rolled her eyes. "Grotesque. Jeans and a T-shirt, in Westland Prep. I know we don't wear uniforms, but come on, show some level of civility." She flicked her silky, long black hair over her shoulders.
With everyone deep in their thoughts, silence fell on the four young women who defined this clique: Tricia, the bouncy brunette and co-captain of the cheerleading team.
Francine, the sophisticated member, known to be harshly judgmental and fiercely proud of her family's wealth.
Blue eyed and blonde, Jennifer, the school's gossip queen and social committee president.
And Julie, the dreamer, whose chestnut-brown hair was pulled back off her ivory-skinned face while long silken lashes framed her dark brown eyes.
They'd been friends since preschool. They dressed to the latest codes, and dated the right boys. To them, prep school was the period between high school and marriage. A time to hunt for the perfect date, shop and enjoy life. Prepping for college was the last thing on their minds.

Buy link -

Where to find me – Victoria's Pages of Romance -

Pat C. said...


“Let’s cut to the chase, Chase.” Tipped off by Peri, Darinda had time to plan her attack. She hadn’t counted on those yellow eyes. They hit her like a sledgehammer and sent shockwaves down to her Nikes. Even in khakis and a pullover sweater there was no mistaking his breed, or his sheer masculinity, or his intentions. Wolves were short on subtlety and direct in what they wanted. And this one wanted—

She stiffened her shoulders. It didn’t matter what he wanted. He wasn’t going to get. She summoned her power, cloaked it about her, and had the satisfaction of watching that smug lupine grin of his falter. He recovered swiftly with no drop in the wanting. “Pigheaded” also fit the were description.

“I won’t even ask how you found me,” she went on. “We both know
why you’re really here. It isn’t going to happen.”

That infuriating smirk returned. “No?”

“No.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I know a wolf on the prowl when he barges into my shop. Of any species.”

“We can dispense with the awkward chitchat, then. I invite you to lunch, you say yes, we discover how attracted we are to each other, and afterwards—”

She held up her hand. The air in front of him suddenly took on gelid
solidity. He tested it with the flat of his palm. It had a bit of give, but turned stiff at resistance. He could move in any direction except toward Darinda.

“This only delays the inevitable, you know,” he informed her. “You
want me. I can smell it on you.”

“That’s my bath oil. I don’t waste time on married men, or soon-to-be married men. You want a last fling, look elsewhere.”

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Mickie Sherwood said...

Cutie and the Cowboy Trucker - Sensual Mainstream Romance

This excerpt is from my 2012 #1 Bookstrand Mainstream Bestseller!

(Veronica Torres admires her rescuer, trucker Mike Masterson.)

Veronica intentionally took note of his mannerisms as he sought to do damage control. Although his cool expression locked in place, she sensed the immense interest in his bedroom eyes the longer he stared at her. He was minus his hat and glasses, which permitted her uninhibited inspection. Mike wore his hair cut close to the scalp. That emphasized his strong brow and the allure of his eyes, so soft and tawny brown. He had a tiny healed scar on the end of one nostril. Below that was his peppered mustache, glinting with a touch of silver and trimmed to perfection above tasty-looking lips.

Her perusal didn’t stop there.

His stout neck balanced on wide shoulders that conformed to a broad chest. Since he was seated, her imagination filled in the gaps of the rest of his description. She recalled his long legs from her position on the ground, and his, evidently, excellent physical condition by the trapeze act he’d performed to get her carry-on. Before her sat a man she guessed to be in his midforties, who happened to be one outstanding treat for a woman to behold. Creamy chocolate had nothing on him.

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Thanks, Exquisite Quills.

Mickie Sherwood
~~Sweet, spicy romance – a heartbeat away~~ - Drool over my recipes with pictures. - Follow me. I'll follow you.