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Monday, November 10, 2014

It's Back! 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!

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Come see my snippet on Exquisite Quills' Wash Line Monday!    


Susan Macatee said...

From Civil War romance, The Christmas Ball.


She drew in a deep breath. “Doc Ellison, I’ve longed to do this ever since I first set eyes on you.”

She reached up and circled his nape with her hands, drawing his face to hers. Standing on her toes, she kissed him.

He stiffened for a moment. This wasn’t right. But her sweet lips on his, sent his own tingling and he couldn’t resist her no matter how hard he tried. He wrapped his arms around her back, drawing her close.

She murmured in satisfaction, her moans urging him on. He deepened the kiss, pressing his body against hers. Her lips parted to give him complete access to the velvety inside of her mouth.

He hardened in response to the softness and scent of her body. His impulse was to undress her, so he could feast on her woman’s body under the male clothing. His breath hitched and he pulled away a bit.

She reeled, her eyes opened wide. Apparently she’d been as affected by the kiss as he. He reached out to steady her, then his fingers grazed the buttons of her sack coat. She stood stock still, as he slowly loosened each button, then slid the coat over her slim shoulders. She shrugged out of it and let the garment drop to the ground behind her.

Of their own accord, his fingers reached for the buttons of her shirt.

Rosemary Gemmell said...

From Victorian novella, Mischief at Mulberry Manor, with romance and ghost story set around Twelfth Night.

Bringing her attention back to her maid’s ministrations, Maryanne admired the elegant hairstyle and submitted to the remainder of the necessary lacing and preening. Once tightly laced into her corset, and the hooped cage fastened at the waist, Maryanne allowed her dinner gown to settle over the petticoats and hoops and admired the effect of the rose taffeta against her skin.

At sight of the expanse of flesh across her shoulders and above her breasts, she allowed Timmy to fasten a small gold cross around her neck. A light shawl would protect her from chills. And she resolved to forget all nonsensical talk of ghosts and spirits, and hoped the evening would pass undisturbed.

Available from Amazon US:

Romy Gemmell

Keta Diablo said...

From my new release CHASING THE DEAD #western #romance #paranormal. The heroine describes the ghost tracking them across New Mexico.
* * *
A circle of fire from a dozen piles of sage lit up the sky around the shelter. The wind moaned and wailed, sounding like the sorrowful lament of Scottish bagpipes. What other magic and manipulations had the dead spirit learned in the underworld since Maddie last saw him?
With a look of startled horror, Sacheen shouldered her. "Do you see him?"
"I thought I told you to go inside. We must not show him fear."
"Do you see him!?"
Tendrils of darkness slipped in as the wraith advanced. Maddie shivered when his visage manifested in her line of vision. More terrifying than any specter she'd ever seen, a haze of gray mist swirled around his translucent form. A quiver hung from his shoulder stocked with stone-headed arrows—a sign he'd taken the form of a native from ancient history. Steeped in blood, his clothing hung in tatters around his massive frame—a vest made of animal hides, a breechcloth and fringed leggings. Maddie's gaze traveled to his painted, pock-marked face. Her insides quivered and ropes of tension knotted every cord and fiber of her body.
Bleary, unearthly eyes turned to Sacheen when the spirit raised a hand with claw-like fingers and pointed at her chest. The wind, much like the sound of women wailing, keened into the deafening silence. Fire exploded from the ghost's eyes—flames the fires of Hell couldn't compete with.
"Yes." Maddie fought to keep her voice calm and even. "I see him. His hunger for you permeates the air."
* * *
Here on #Kindle

Thanks so much for reading! Keta

Penny's Tales said...

From Revenge, The Cowboy (historical western romance)

“It’s about time you woke up. I was just getting ready to wake you. Lunch is ready.” He was leaning against the wall, smiling that damn mocking smile she would come to know so well.

“Don’t look so terrified. I don’t have time to do any more than have lunch with you… for now.”

He was the most infuriating man, so sure of himself. She wouldn’t let him bait her into an argument. Joanna stomach was growling and realized how hungry she was. “And just what am I supposed to wear—nothing?”

“I would prefer it that way,” he replied slyly. “But if modesty won’t permit, I got some clothes for you.” She followed his gaze and saw a pile of clothes on the end of the bed. There were several old pairs of cut off trousers, frayed around the legs, and a few old faded blue long sleeved shirts. “I know they’re not silk, but I’m sure you’ll feel right at home in them.”

“Thanks,” she said bitingly. “Do I get to change in private, or am I to be this morning’s entertainment for you?”

The muscle in his cheek danced and his eyes glittered dangerously. He walked over and sat on the bed. Joanna was backed up as far as she could go. Brian reached out, picking up strands of her hair and letting them fall through his fingers. “You have a mighty quick tongue, Jo. I suggest you curb it or we are going to have some problems.” In silent submission, she looked away. “I’ll be back in five minutes. There’s some water over there to wash up with.” Then he was gone.

Diana Rubino said...

From THE JEWELS OF WARWICK, Tudor Romance, this snippet is about Henry, about to become king:
Amethyst stood at the entrance of the crowded great hall. Her eyes landed on the magnificent figure. Oh, Jesu, there he is. She swallowed, her parched throat desperate for a sip of liquid. She stepped inside and took her first longing gaze at King Henry since he swept by her in Westminster Abbey. A page presented her to Queen Catherine first. From her pyramidal head-dress lined with diamonds to her purple robe turned up at the sleeves displaying ermine, she carried all the grace of royalty. Amethyst returned Catherine's smile with a practiced curtsey. She then faced the king. She dared to look into his eyes once again, those clear gold orbs, that playfulness yielding just a bit to maturity. A smile produced matching dimples in his cheeks. He nodded in recognition, yet his eyes questioned, as if he'd seen her before, but not knowing where. Those eyes sparkled with a lustre matching his cloth of gold doublet, trimmed with sable, the open front displaying a French chemay underneath. The shirt, open at his neck, exposed a mat of red-gold chest hair. The skirted doublet gave way to the sturdy legs adorned with slashed breeches to the knee, his hose woven with gold threads. His fashionable leather duckbill shoes showed gold silk within the slashings of the leather, gold hose peeking out. Diamonds adorned the slashings. Dazzling her, he sparkled from head to toe.

Emerald said...

From the story "If..." in my new short story collection, If... Then: a collection of erotic romance stories:

I zipped up the A-line burgundy dress and stepped out of the dressing room.

Sarah cocked her head. “Hmmm. That's nice.” Her brow furrowed. “Could I see the blue one again?”

I smiled, amused by her indecision. I had tried each of her three final bridesmaid dress choices twice; this would be the third time for the blue one. I ducked back into the dressing room and slipped on the royal blue floor-length strapless gown.

She looked up as I emerged. “I like that,” she said as she examined me. “Oh, by the way, I asked Shawn to meet us here at two-thirty to go to the tuxedo store. I want to look at tuxes that match the dresses I’m looking at. Do you mind coming along to give your opinion?”

“Of course not.” I returned to the dressing room to change back into my street clothes. As I stepped into my shoes, I heard voices outside the door and deduced that her finace had arrived.

I opened the door, and my breath caught as I saw Shawn talking to Sarah—with Hayden standing next to him. My heart took off like a pistol firing, and for a second I couldn’t speak.

Sarah turned to me. “Shawn brought Hayden with him, obviously. You guys met at the engagement party, right?” Shawn said something to her before I could answer, and she turned to him.

Hayden stood casually, his hands in the pockets of his khakis. I met his eyes, his slow smile shooting sparks through my body. I swallowed and managed a somewhat unnatural smile back. Then I held back a groan, realizing suddenly that if there was one thing I didn’t need the temptation of seeing Hayden in right now, it was a tuxedo.

If... Then at Amazon:
My website:

Suz said...

Rose, thanks for this opportunity!

I love to research what my historical characters are wearing, but in this contemporary story, the heroine is a fashionista and a shoe designer. So of course she's very conscious of her appearance.

This snippet is from Kinky Toes--the hero and heroine have been asked (well, ordered) by their boss to meet for dinner and work out their differences. So far, the meeting hasn't gone well.


Dismayed by his conduct and hers, Rick followed. He had no idea what demon possessed him. He had to search his memories all the way back to high school to recall an occasion when he’d behaved as badly. This crappy meeting ranked right down there with the night he’d taken Janelle Watson to the senior prom, drunk too much and barfed all over her fancy gown.

Outside the restaurant, he looked around, spotting Shelbie, a point of stillness in the crowd of people jamming Forty-fifth. Standing in the cone of light cast by a streetlamp, she leaned against the pole, her blond head bent. Her breath visibly puffed in the frosty air of the winter night as she fumbled in a little gold shoulder bag and took out a tissue. She dabbed her nose and mouth, then crushed the Kleenex in her fist.

Then he noticed that she was wearing a green dress, not a red and black business suit. Her high heeled shoes—Shelbie’s Sexy Sandals—were gold, matching the tiny evening purse.

She’d taken the time to dress for their dinner while he, tense about the situation, had come straight from work to suck down a few beers and relax.

Shit. He was nothing but a twenty-four carat asshole.

He’d been a jerk to Shelbie Nathanson, the woman who starred in his sweetest, dirtiest fantasies. He’d been obsessed by her from the moment she’d walked into the S.A. meeting. A newcomer, she’d confessed to frequent sex with anyone owning a penis without ever pretending to have a relationship…since her mother had died.

He wanted her and believed she felt the same. But he sensed her hesitance and respected her reasons. She wanted to rein in her self-destructive impulses, just like he was.

But was their mutual attraction unhealthy?


If you like what you read, find it here:

E. Ayers said...

A Snowy Christmas in Wyoming
Amazon International Buy Links.

Andy was sprawled across the bed with both arms over his head. His broad chest was covered with an old, blue, flannel shirt, and it rose and fell with each breath. Strong thighs were encased in heavy denim, and his feet were covered in a pair of white cotton socks that were thin on the bottom.

Starting Tuesday, Nov 11 it will be available in Christmas on Main Street, the boxed set of 12 Xmas books for 99 cents.

Helen Henderson said...

Maerva dresses for celebrating her first year's end away from home.

Excerpt from Imprisoned in Stone by Helen Henderson

Maerva twisted the last ringlet of dark hair into place and pinned it into a knot at the nape of her neck. Deft movements interwove the midnight blue ribbons into place and laced up the deep jade green vest. Giving it a tug, she lifted her arms and twirled to make sure the garment did not impede her movement. The ankle-length skirt flowed in a gray shimmer reminiscent of storm-tossed waves. Tonight would be her first year-end celebration away from home as an adult, and she planned to dance the night away. For the first time, she would not have to share the evening with her cousins and older sisters. In fact, the dress she wore was the first new garment she had ever owned. Satisfied she was as ready as she would ever be, she gave one final glance in the mirror and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Available in paperback at Amazon. In ebook at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and elsewhere. For excerpts,a free read of the first chapter, and a complete distribution list, visit Helen can be found on the web at

Mari Christie said...

From Royal Regard, to be released Nov. 28

Her gown was uglier than Satan’s Sunday suit: poor tailoring and endless rows of floating horizontal ruffles emphasized all the wrong parts of her body, and petal sleeves looked like the inadequate wings of a land-bound bird. The pastel-pink tulle made her dusty-rose skin look dirty and her bronze hair look brassy. He knew someone—no, everyone—in the room was calling her kaffir or coolie or gypsy by now.

When her shoulders periodically twitched, tensing her muscles under an uncomfortable skin, the awful dress gave the impression she would fly away from unwelcome obligations. Every time she so much as trembled, Lady Firthley tapped her on the arm with her fan, and the face Lady Holsworthy made when she was cross was fascinating, too, if only because ladies so rarely appeared peevish in public.


Nick nearly drooled at the high-waisted, décolleté, curvaceous dress he had never before seen: heavy pomegranate satin under loose-weave gold muslin with gold tapestry trim and long, sheer, gathered net sleeves, just a bit too low-cut, a bit too formal, a bit too ephemeral for mid-afternoon. The dress fell to her perfect ankle above her red satin slippers, the dancing shoes hardly sturdy enough to walk on the street. Her reticule was gold, trimmed with red ribbons. She looked like gold inlaid into rubies set in gold.

He had told himself he wouldn’t put up with her yelling again, but he might put up with anything if the reward were removing this particular gown. Soon.

For a sample, go to

Pre-order now:
Barnes and Noble:

Kim McMahill said...

BIG HORN STORM: Niki couldn’t see Robert Mitchell Blackburn II, known to friends and family as Deuce, but his deep voice gave away his location. No doubt his tall muscular frame stood just inside the barn door, concealed in the shadows. Even though he was hidden from view, she could describe every detail of his unruly hair peeking out from under his beat-up and sweat-stained straw cowboy hat, the scrutinizing look in his hazel eyes, his tanned complexion, and the scuffs on the heels of his boots where his spurs had worn on the leather. Dark stubble would shadow his chin and above his lip, and his sleeves would be rolled up on his denim shirt. She hated the fact that not only could she see him clearly in her mind now, but she could picture him just as clearly nearly every day of her life no matter how hard she tried to keep him out of her head.

Buy on Amazon at
For more info, please follow my blog at or on twitter at

Patricia Preston said...

From To Save A Lady (Historical Romance set in New Orleans 1814)

He tugged her onto the banquette where a street lamp hung from a rope suspended across the street. A haze of light shimmered through the fog. He stepped back to get a better look at his quarry.

A black hooded cloak, with beaded trim, shrouded her from head to toe. An excellent garment for pursuing a man in the dark. The deep hood obscured her face, except for the half mask she wore. The sparkling gemstones scattered across her silver mask winked at him.

He couldn’t believe a woman was out at this late hour following him. You could expect anything to happen in this bizarre city.

Amazon link:

Iris Blobel said...

Thank you for the opportunity. This is an excerpt from my latest release "Love Will Find You", set in Australia.

Ty’s gaze went out over the ocean before looking back at her. The thin long-sleeved shirt which hugged her curves nicely, and the cargo pants she wore, gave her a very casual, but sexy look. She
smoothed a loose strand of her curly light brown hair behind her ear and met his gaze. Although teary and red, the beautiful green colour of her eyes shone through brightly. He knew he couldn’t walk away. He looked at her for a second or two, noticing the tight lines of her lips. Still, she had a beautiful mouth. Even though her lips were slightly swollen from crying, there was an urge inside him
to touch them and find out what they felt or tasted like.

My blog: