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Thursday, February 12, 2015

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!    


Evelise Archer said...

We Are Daddy
Evelise Archer


Cyril Eona always had a hard life; born with a deformity and growing up in the system until he meets Devon Haley; the man of his dreams, who becomes the love of his life. But soon, their wonderful world gets turned upside down by an unexpected arrival; a daughter.

Life changes; a couple becomes three and fatherhood looms. Can Cyril get past all his insecurities and allow Devon to show him that although life as two was wonderful, life as daddy can be ultimately fulfilling.

Chris Redding said...

Blonde Demolition

A bomb.
One with a timer and wires and all the parts necessary to blow up the beer trailer and all in its vicinity. Including all of her fellow firefighters at the Coleville Volunteer Fire Company.
Mallory Sage had seen too many bombs in her former life with Homeland Security. Her heart raced and anger streaked through her.
"Jesse, get out," she said to her chief..
She wouldn't lose him. Not now. Not this way. She would not have her lover blown up.
Jesse Moran licked his lips and moved in her direction. He stopped and backed away from her as if he couldn't make the decision to leave.
"Get out of here, Mal."
Even in the face of a bomb, he was willing to protect her. Her heart sank. She might never be able to return that loyalty.
She clenched and unclenched her fists, her breath coming out in pants. "Not without you, Jesse. Mark, call 911. Tell them we need the bomb squad," she said, still looking at the chief.
When Jesse reached her, she yanked him out. He had one hundred pounds on her. She had surprise on her side. "Get me some wire cutters."
Jesse looked at her as though she had three heads.
"Do it."
He shook his head. "No, you don't know what you're doing. You'll blow up."
She made eye contact with one of the bystanders. "Get me wire cutters and clear everyone out of here. Someone make sure no workers are on the fairgrounds."

Barbara White Daille said...

From my first book, The Sheriff’s Son, originally available in print and recently released for the first time in e-book format:

If one more straw would snap the camel's back, as Daddy used to say, then one more debt, one more unplanned doctor visit, one more call from Kevin's school ought to bring down a whole herd of cattle.

She sighed. In the past few weeks, her son had given her more grief than in all seven years of his life combined.

At the sound of the bell over the door, she rose from her desk.
Halfway through the office doorway into the large, overflowing bookstore, she froze. Her mouth hung open, the greeting she'd intended to call out shriveling on her tongue, sliding back down her throat, curdling in her stomach.

Her "one more straw" had arrived.

Instead of book club members she'd expected to see, a man stood at the front of the store, framed between a pair of ceiling-height bookcases.

Tanner Jones seemed to fill her vision, standing taller and more broad-shouldered than she ever remembered, but looking, unfortunately, all too familiar. Except for the deputy sheriff's badge decorating his chest and the gun resting on his hip.

A frown rumpled his brow and his hand gripped the back of a bright blue T-shirt, pulling up with just enough pressure to keep the boy inside the shirt dancing on tiptoe.

A single mother's worst nightmare. Doubled.

The son she never wanted to see in trouble.

The man she'd once loved. Once lost. And never wanted to see again.

"Mom! I--"

"Hold it, son," Tanner broke in.

Her stomach dropped. His voice had deepened with the years, but his once well-loved drawl triggered a fully-illustrated volume of unwanted memories.

Sarah focused instead on Kevin, whose yelp revealed much more than his missing front tooth. What had he done? And why did Tanner have to be the one to catch him?


Barnes & Noble




Thanks for reading!

Susan Macatee said...

From Civil War romance, Confederate Rose.


"You bloody thief!" the rider yelled in a high, strident voice. "Hand over me bag, you bastard!"

Alex kept the revolver before him but relaxed his grip. That crazed Irish Rebel had followed him.

She reined up abreast of him and didn't flinch at the sight of his drawn gun. Curls slicked against her head, and water dripped down her face.

She glowered at him, blowing out a puff of steam. Her breath came out in gasps, and the horse huffed.

"Hand over me bloody bag." She held out a leather-gloved hand, oblivious of the revolver still pointed at her.

"What makes you think I have it?"

"Yer a thief and a liar. Give it here."

"You most likely left it back at the stream. Just didn't see it in the dark."

Her nostrils flared. "'Tis not that dark. You have it, and I want it now!"

Icy rain continued to pelt them. Alex bristled. She was keeping him from finding the cabin, where he could get dry and warm. As far as he knew, she didn't have a weapon. She'd lost her sidearm in the stream, and he hadn't seen a rifle among her belongings.

"Look, ma'am." He pointed the gun for emphasis. "I'm not going to sit here in this freezing rain and argue. When I find the cabin, you're welcome to come inside. I'll prove I don't have your bag. Fair enough?"

She bit her lip, apparently considering his offer. "If I don't agree, are you going to shoot me, then, Mr. Hart?"

He lowered the gun. "Of course not. I just wanted to convince you that we need to get out of this rain, before we both come down with pneumonia." He shook ice pellets from his hat and brushed his coat to emphasize his point. "We'll freeze out here."

Erin OQuinn said...

From FIRE & SILK: The virgin Mariana finds herself in a delicate dance with her accidental bed-mate, the grouchy bachelor Flann ...
She woke to darkness with her legs entwined in Flann’s, her head on his chest. She could tell by his slow, regular heartbeat that he was still asleep. She lay quietly for a while, loving him, sinking into his slumbering skin.

He loves me. She wondered how long it would have taken the two of them, so clumsy in the delicate dance of a man and a woman, to discover the truth. If Moc had not hinted at the solution, what then? It is possible, she thought, that their dance may have ended before the music had hardly begun…

He stirred a little and shifted toward her a few inches. She felt the fine hairs and the little soft nub of his nipple near her mouth. Unaccountably, her heart began to beat faster. She knew that her own breath was stirring the downy surface around the nipple, and she tried to slow her breathing, just as her armsman Rodolfo had taught her to do.

Too late. The nipple had become as stiff as her own. In spite of herself, Mariana extended her tongue a little bit and touched it. Por DiĆ³s. He tastes sweet and salty all at once.

She wondered—if she were to take his nipple into her mouth, would he wake? Or would her moving mouth become part of his dream? Her lips opened very slightly. She captured the nipple and began to suck, so softly that she herself hardly knew what she was doing.

Against one of her legs, something stirred slightly. She shifted her leg only a fraction, until she felt it more directly. It was smooth as velvet, and yet obdurate as steel.

E. Ayers said...

WANTING (Mac and Amanda's Story)
A River City Novel Book 1
by E. Ayers

''Our table, please.''

They followed the hostess and then Mac waited while Amanda slid into the seat in such a way that he had to sit opposite her. A recessed fountain in the wall above the table caught his attention.

Two small fish on either side of an elongated bowl spewed water. A small chuckle escaped his throat.

''What?'' she asked.

''The fountain.'' He pointed to the marble decoration.

She looked up at it. ''It's very pretty.''

''No, it's not.'' He couldn't hold back his laughter as he slid into his seat. ''To me those two little fish appear to be vomiting into a fancy urinal, and that's not exactly appetizing.''

''Ew!'' She scrunched up her nose and giggled. ''I never considered that.'' She glanced at him for a split second. Her eyelids lowered and then looked back up at him with lips that curved into a tiny smile. ''I always thought the little boy peeing was cute.''

''You mean Manneken Pis. It's a very famous fountain in Brussels.'' His gaze locked with hers and she quickly dropped hers to the menu, but the flush on her cheeks lingered.

He opened his menu, but had already decided he'd have the veal medallions in a Marcella wine sauce. They sat in silence while she studied the menu.

She had on a minimal amount of makeup and her hair was pulled into a big clip. He wished she had turned it loose. He wanted to see those rich chocolate locks cascading over her shoulders and down her back. His fingers itched with the desire to run his hands through her hair. Instead he wrapped his hand around his water goblet, lifted it, and drank most of the contents. The ice-cold liquid cooled his throat, but not the blaze within him.

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