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Thursday, October 9, 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!

 Share your participation with our
ready-to-go tweet or make your own:

Discover great reads. Exquisite Quills' Throwback Thursday!    


Fiona McGier said...

IN honor of Halloween month, here's an early snippet from my vampire romance: Prophecy of the Undead.

Set-up: Keisha has been shot by kidnappers who were themselves attacked by someone she didn't see.

She felt the gun stuck into her ribs and held her breath, waiting
for death. The gun fired. The bullet tore its way through her skin
and chest muscles, burned through her lung, and severed arteries
as it lodged in her heart. She found it difficult to let out the breath
or to breathe in any more air.
There was the awful sound of breaking bones...then silence.
Someone leaned over into the trunk and lifted her gently
out as if she was as light as a child. She felt herself being laid on
the ground and fought to breathe as her blood pulsed out of her
through the chest wound, soaking her clothes and making them
stick to her. Her rescuer tore through the knots that she was unable
to budge. She tried to thank him with her last gasps of air.
“Tha...thanks.” She choked on her own blood and her head
“Keisha, look at me,” he commanded in a voice that sounded
vaguely familiar, but very distant, as if she was moving far away
from him.
She tried to focus her gaze but merely saw the outlines of a
man’s torso, with a face barely visible, topped with white hair that
shone in the dim moonlight.
“I had hoped to spare you this but I have no other choice now.
I can’t lose you...I won’t. You must choose right now, before it’s too
late. Do you want to live?”
In her mind she giggled but all that came out of her mouth was
a gargling sound.
“Um, yeah...don’t think...option anymore...”
“Yes, it is. But if I do this thing, you will be changed. You will
be alive, yet not alive. Are you sure you want me to do this?”
Her head nodded up and down as darkness descended, her vision
clouded by the blood that was everywhere now. She drifted
off and idly wondered if she was going anywhere or if she was just
going to lose consciousness and that would be the end of thought.
Suddenly her mind was invaded by a tall, blond man with an
intense look in his eyes that shone with a black fire in their depths.

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JoAnne Myers said...

From "Poems About Life, Love, and Everything in Between"


When I remember my past.
I don’t want to re-live them.
Just never hate or forget them.
Where did the time go?
It all seemed so fast.
To be young again, how nice.
To relive my good times twice.
Cant life be given simply, quiet?
Instead of earned with sweat and strife.
We last just a little while.
To find love and happiness.
In a world that lives to beguile.
How could one ever know,
why life is meant this way.
To reach that point of no new growth.
When all memories fade away.
With each new setting sun,
the day is over-done.
Yesterday’s hopes are now the past.
Oh how I wish to tuck them aside.
To keep them forever.
To the end of time.


Susan Macatee said...

From 2009 vampire romance novella, Sweet Redemption.

The blood drained from Jon's face as he struggled to get to the doorway where Mrs. Emery stood, her hand raised in mid-air. "Don't answer it!" he repeated.

She turned wide-eyed toward him. "Why? Who is it?"

"Something evil." He almost hissed the words.

"Evil? What on earth are you talking about?"

Jon didn’t know how he knew, but he sensed Arnwolf stood on the other side of that door. His decrepit scent burned Jon's nostrils. He also knew, deep in his bones, the man wouldn't enter without an invitation. How he knew this he wasn't sure, but he had to keep Mrs. Emery from that door.

She frowned, confusion written on her lovely face. "But what if it's—"

"Believe me. If you answer you'll let him in."


He grasped her upper arms to prevent her from opening the door. The knocks continued, maddeningly slow and deliberate.

"Trust me. Come back with me into the parlor." He drew her back to the fire and held her small hands in his. They huddled together on the settee while the knocking continued.

She placed her hands over her ears. "When will it stop!"

"By dawn, I'm sure."

"He'll knock all night?" Her gaze locked on his. "You know who it is. Tell me!"

Jon shook his head. "I can’t say for sure, but I think he's an agent of Satan."

Mrs. Emery trembled beside him. He wrapped an arm around her. "Why do you say that?" she asked.

"I believe he wants me because of my past failings."

Alicia Dean said...

Wow, intense scene! Nice job.

Alicia Dean said...

Great poem...well done.

Alicia Dean said...

Hmmm, another vampire story. Again, an intense scene. I was hooked!

Alicia Dean said...

A few years ago, I released a novella under the pen name, Winter Frost. It was a modern gothic mystery romance, sort of a throwback in itself. It was so much fun to write. Currently, it's on sale for $1.50.

“Your brother feels you’re self-destructive. Can you tell me what makes him think that?”

Drew’s mouth pulled down in a grimace. “Probably because he thinks I’m like our mother.”

“And your mother was self-destructive?”

He chuckled without humor. “I’d say so. She killed herself.” At my indrawn breath, his brows rose. “You didn’t know? You’d think if my brother was going to hire you to treat my psychosis, he’d provide a little more background, wouldn’t you?”

I agreed, but didn’t admit it out loud. Anger at Clinton Breckenridge made me tighten my grip on the pen. I bent my head and scribbled a note to cover it. Taking a deep breath, I faced Drew. “Let’s talk about that. When did she die?”

“Two years ago. She drowned herself.”

My gut ached with sympathy. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “What can you do, though, right?” The pain in his face eased, but his smile seemed forced. “Did you hear about the curse attached to this house?”

“No,” I lied. Maybe if I let him open up about that, he’d also open up about his grief over losing his mother—and perhaps Melanie. Were his feelings about losing two such important women within a few years part of the self-destructive tendencies his brother mentioned? “Tell me about it.”

“Over the past century and a half, most all Breckenridge women have died tragic deaths—some at their own hand. A legend grew with the townspeople after my great-great grandmother drowned. Twenty years before, her own mother was shot and killed during a train robbery. Legend has it that Breckenridge Manor is cursed. Or—technically, the Breckenridges themselves are. They say that falling in love with a Breckenridge man is a death sentence.”

I shivered. The words were said lightly, but there was an underlying truth—maybe a warning?—attached to them.

Anonymous said...

Coming back home always feels profoundly defeatist to Kyle. That's been true every time they've been back in the three years since Daniel packed up his barber shop and moved with him down to Pittsburgh. It's especially true now that they're coming back to Rochester to get married.

Part of the problem is Kyle's family, which has never been thrilled that Kyle's dating a guy nine years older than him. Or that he's dating a guy at all. At least his mother is slightly less hysterical about the situation now that he's in college. But only slightly.

Part of it is just Rochester itself. Everything feels grayer, and smaller, and more worn out every time he comes back. It's not particularly the atmosphere either of them want associated with their wedding, but the arrangements are cheaper and, as both of their mothers keep reminding them, their families are all here.

Kyle's mother has also started reminding him that he should look for jobs so he'll have "something to do" when he moves back after graduation next summer, as if Pittsburgh is a lark and not, clearly, a very permanent step up. She also keeps acting like he'll be coming back alone, and her whole it-will-disappear-if-I-ignore-it charade is just ridiculous when it's not absurdly offensive. Kyle's been pissed enough about it that he hasn't found a way to tell her that neither of them are coming back to Rochester all.

He wakes up the day before the wedding -- gray, hot, and humid, predictably, because Lake Ontario means Rochester gets the most unpleasant weather possible in any season -- when his phone chimes on the nightstand.

E. Ayers said...

A CHILD'S HEART: Trent and Cassie's Story (A River City Novel Book 6)

International Amazon buy link:
Available as a Kindle Unlimited

Sweet, probing kisses caused her to close her eyes, as she was drawn to him by the magnificent sensation that streamed through her body. Her hands found his shoulders, as his arms locked her into his embrace. Her hips swayed against the soft bulge in his pants. His hand on the small of her back pulled her tight to him. The room vanished. All that was left, were two bodies pressed together.

His tongue danced with hers as her pelvis rode his hardening length. Her breasts burned. She clawed at the fabric covering his shoulders. It was primal and she lost herself in the ancient ritual. Heat flowed through her until it peaked, causing a groan to escape her throat. Her lips unlocked from his, and she buried her face into his chest. The course material was permeated with the pungent smell of perspiration and oil. Inhaling deeply, it was nauseating, exciting, and very masculine. Reality hit, sending a jolt through her system. She let go of him and turned away. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I just did that.”

His hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back to him. “I’m not sure exactly what happened, but it was terrific." His breath flowed over her face as he spoke. "I should be apologizing to you. I've never spontaneously kissed someone before.” His voice was deep and raspy. “I’ve heard it said that you can tell a lot from a first kiss, and that was one hell of a first kiss.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why? It was awesome.” He pulled her tight to his body.

Her gaze locked with his as his lips once again touched hers. Her knees weakened and her body trembled. Wanting to flee, she found herself riveted in place. His tongue found hers. Heat coursed through her as the room began to swim. A gray cloud enveloped her until there was nothing.

Jump in the glue for the series is the city!

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Andrea Cooper said...

Cursed Book 1.5 Legends of Oblivion series. Fantasy/ Paranormal Romance

“How did you get to the labyrinth so soon? The journey from Tamlon is longer than the time of Celeste’s entrapment.”
“We have a secret path Nivel created. It’s ancient magic and travels Elvin here within an hour.”

“Then let’s take this path back.” Celeste said.

“It’s only for Elvin. The magic would crush a human and perhaps even a horse.”

“Perhaps your magic needs to be altered now.” Celeste smiled.

“Indeed.” Emillya answered. “I’ll mention the request to the elders.”

When we arrived in Tamlon, I hoped to show Celeste the wonders of my land. And bask in the sun naked with her.

After the others slept, I laid down beside Celeste. She turned and snuggled her head under my chin. “Your language is so beautiful. Almost like music with its rhythms and melody.”

My hand traced circles up and down her back. “Emir voulan sptrea.”

“What does that mean?”

I eased her chin up and she looked into my eyes. “We are one heart.” I kissed her and relished in the sweetness of her mouth for we could do little else with company.

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