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Monday, April 27, 2015

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!    

13 comments:

E. Ayers said...

This is from my upcoming Victorian Novel:

A RANCHER'S DREAM
by E. Ayers

Ingrid didn’t know that she would be driving the carriage until she was helped into the driver’s seat. Alma scampered to sit next to Ingrid on the coach’s bench. Alma looked adorable dressed in a short-sleeved white blouse with a pleated navy-blue skirt. She wore white silk socks and navy blue, kid-leather shoes with five small buttons. Her dark brown hair had been styled into several ringlets that fell to below her shoulder blades. The child seemed to know almost no English, but she smiled brightly. Ingrid’s instructions were to teach the child to speak, read, and write in English, and to educate her in other subjects, and to tutor José in English.

E-book buy links to the companion novel (A Rancher's Woman):

Amazon International Buy Links.

http://authl.it/B00HGV37VA

It is also available in paper & as a Kindle Unlimited

Joan Fleming said...

This is from my debut novel

WHAT THE FUTURE HOLDS
by Joan Fleming

Having spent half the afternoon laying out various outfits for the evening, Amy was reminded of packing for a holiday. On this occasion, however, she wasn’t looking at clothes for a week or more, but only one outfit. She finally chose a forest green silk top that emphasised the green in her eyes, with trousers in a deeper shade of the same colour. It would be hard to put a label on appropriate dress for the restaurant, ‘The Chip’ as it was affectionately known in the city. It was neither formal nor casual; the term ‘smart casual’ didn’t quite describe it either.
Normally, Amy had enough self-confidence to stand by whatever she’d chosen to wear. This particular Saturday, however, she couldn’t make up her mind if she was dressing to suit the restaurant, to suit herself or to impress Sandy McFarlane. Yet deep down she knew: it was for Sandy.

Available as an e-book


www.joanflemingwriter.com

www.tirpub.com/jfleming

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00LEWCJO8

http://www.amazon.com/What-Future-Holds-Joan-Fleming-ebook/dp/B00LEWCJO8

Rosemary Gemmell said...

From The Aphrodite Touch (1st novella in the Aphrodite and Adonis series set on Cyprus)

Sitting upright, Carla had just shaded her eyes when a movement caught her eye. She squinted against the glare, and stared out towards the largest rock, disbelieving at first as she watched a figure rise from the sea.
“Jamie…” She grasped his arm. “Look, over there. Tell me I’m not imagining something that isn’t there.”
She continued to stare as he followed her gaze. “What the…”
It wasn’t a hallucination. But the figure now standing in the shallow water was certainly a mesmerizing vision. Tall, with lithe curves outlined in a flesh-coloured, one-piece swimsuit, wet, golden hair dripping over one shoulder, long, graceful, tanned limbs. Jamie and Carla watched in awe as the apparition reached the edge of the beach and squeezed the water from the tips of her hair.
“Wow! If anyone ever looked more like the mythical Aphrodite, then we’ve still to see it,” Jamie said.
Carla was glad he’d uttered the words, since she already had way too much imagination to be taken seriously.
Then the woman smiled straight at them and Carla gasped. “It’s her again; the woman from the lobby, and the Tombs,” she whispered. “And the harbour.”
She strolled toward them, sea water still glistening on her body. “Hello. I see you followed our suggestion. Is this not a magical place? We swim here most days.”
The man appeared from the other side of the rocks and headed their way. Like his companion, he was perfection, of maleness this time, but perfection, nonetheless. Carla took the time to appreciate just how sculptured his whole body was, not only his face and jaw. His fair hair appeared darker when wet, and water shone on his sleekly muscled torso and limbs as he neared them.
Realizing they had been rendered speechless until the man approached the woman’s side, Carla cleared her throat, dragging her eyes from the man’s glorious body. She could only imagine Jamie was equally struck dumb by the woman’s flawless appearance.

http://www.amazon.com/Aphrodite-Touch-Adonis-Series-ebook/dp/B00CXXBN4O/

Website: http://www.rosemarygemmell.com

Rosemary Morris said...

False Pretences by Rosemary Morris
1815

To have her portrait painted Annabelle is dressed in an old-fashioned gown.

The mirror told Annabelle that the old-fashioned cream silk bodice and wide skirts complemented her fair complexion. Painfully tight lacing emphasised her small waist and drew attention to the swell of her bosom. She was not vain but knew the low cut bodice edged with a froth of priceless lace and the elbow-length flounced sleeves increased her feminine allure. What would Roland think of her if he could see her now? She fingered a knot of satin ribbons as blue as her eyes.

www.rosemarymorris.co.uk
http://rosemarymorris.blogspot.com

E book available from:

https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/our-authors/63-our-authors/authors-m/378-rosemary-morris

www.amazon.co.uk and www.amazon.com B009YK1MFO

Barnes and Novel, AppleiBookstore, Kobo, Blio, Google Play, Overdrive, Omnilit, All Romance E Books, Bookstrand, Coffee Time Romance, Scribd, Smashwords, Flipcart – India, Tolina












False Pretences by Rosemary Morris
1815

To have her portrait painted Annabelle is dressed in an old-fashioned gown.

The mirror told Annabelle that the old-fashioned cream silk bodice and wide skirts complemented her fair complexion. Painfully tight lacing emphasised her small waist and drew attention to the swell of her bosom. She was not vain but knew the low cut bodice edged with a froth of priceless lace and the elbow-length flounced sleeves increased her feminine allure. What would Roland think of her if he could see her now? She fingered a knot of satin ribbons as blue as her eyes.

www.rosemarymorris.co.uk
http://rosemarymorris.blogspot.com

E book available from:

https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/our-authors/63-our-authors/authors-m/378-rosemary-morris

www.amazon.co.uk and www.amazon.com B009YK1MFO

Barnes and Novel, AppleiBookstore, Kobo, Blio, Google Play, Overdrive, Omnilit, All Romance E Books, Bookstrand, Coffee Time Romance, Scribd, Smashwords, Flipcart – India, Tolina


















False Pretences by Rosemary Morris
1815

To have her portrait painted Annabelle is dressed in an old-fashioned gown.

The mirror told Annabelle that the old-fashioned cream silk bodice and wide skirts complemented her fair complexion. Painfully tight lacing emphasised her small waist and drew attention to the swell of her bosom. She was not vain but knew the low cut bodice edged with a froth of priceless lace and the elbow-length flounced sleeves increased her feminine allure. What would Roland think of her if he could see her now? She fingered a knot of satin ribbons as blue as her eyes.

www.rosemarymorris.co.uk
http://rosemarymorris.blogspot.com

E book available from:

https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/our-authors/63-our-authors/authors-m/378-rosemary-morris

www.amazon.co.uk and www.amazon.com B009YK1MFO

Barnes and Novel, AppleiBookstore, Kobo, Blio, Google Play, Overdrive, Omnilit, All Romance E Books, Bookstrand, Coffee Time Romance, Scribd, Smashwords, Flipcart – India, Tolina
























Rosemary Morris said...

False Pretences by Rosemary Morris
1815

To have her portrait painted Annabelle is dressed in an old-fashioned gown.

The mirror told Annabelle that the old-fashioned cream silk bodice and wide skirts complemented her fair complexion. Painfully tight lacing emphasised her small waist and drew attention to the swell of her bosom. She was not vain but knew the low cut bodice edged with a froth of priceless lace and the elbow-length flounced sleeves increased her feminine allure. What would Roland think of her if he could see her now? She fingered a knot of satin ribbons as blue as her eyes.

www.rosemarymorris.co.uk
http://rosemarymorris.blogspot.com

E book available from:

https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/our-authors/63-our-authors/authors-m/378-rosemary-morris

www.amazon.co.uk and www.amazon.com B009YK1MFO

Barnes and Novel, AppleiBookstore, Kobo, Blio, Google Play, Overdrive, Omnilit, All Romance E Books, Bookstrand, Coffee Time Romance, Scribd, Smashwords, Flipcart – India, Tolina

Susan Macatee said...

From American Victorian time travel romance, Thoroughly Modern Amanda.

Excerpt:
The woman shook her head, the large blue flowers atop her hat bobbing. "You promised me a tour of our house." Her full lips quirked upward.

He swallowed. This was the woman in the photo, but instead of a black and white tintype, he was gazing at a beautiful, flesh and blood woman. Her reddish-gold hair was piled up under her hat, a few loose tendrils curled past her ears. A high-necked gown draped over her legs, completely covering her toes. Seated in an outdoor gazebo, she watched him intently.

"I've been waiting so long to see it finished." She reached out a gloved hand and motioned for him to sit.

Her eyes so mesmerized him, he brushed against the gazebo pillar, nearly losing his balance. Her bright smile drew a grin from him.

Before he sat, he glanced over his shoulder. This was the house! The one being demolished, but it was new.

"Where am I?" he demanded of the woman. "And who are you?"

"Jack, are you quite all right?" Her smile faded into a frown. "I'm Amanda. I rescued you."

"Huh?"

A loud buzz pulled him away. He jerked upright.

"What the hell?" He rubbed his face. His subconscious had mixed the photo and the house into a crazy dream.

http://www.amazon.com/Thoroughly-Modern-Amanda-ebook/dp/B00AQAIHHW/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1355948640&sr=1-1&keywords=Thoroughy+Modern+Amanda

Crane Hana said...

From Moro's Price, M/M erotic romance space opera, Moro's first sight of Val:

“Great Cama,” whispered the target. “You killed them?”

Dogleash kicked the incriminating light deeper into a corner between the turbine and another raised access hatch, then bent to check his handiwork. One broken neck, one crushed throat. No heartbeats. “Y-yes,” he said, face heating as he stammered.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Wh-wh-why?” Dogleash’s body shook and twitched with the effort to speak. He stared as the thugs’ target eased into the lit corner.

“Seems to be the night for it.” The young man shrugged. He was dressed in flowing gray and amber fabrics. The fight had ripped his long coat and the collar of his amber tunic. He carried no obvious weapons. A heavy black metal and plastic-web technician’s belt cinched his slim waist, myriad pockets and tools bulking out the belt.

Young, Dogleash guessed. Early twenties. At least seven inches shorter than Dogleash’s own six-foot-one frame. The youth’s rounded bronze face contrasted with shoulder-length, feathery pale-gold hair and grayish-gold eyes. Kott would have ignored him at a bonders’ auction as being too small to fight. He was pretty enough to be someone’s bed toy if his clothing and manner hadn’t screamed freeborn and rich. He reminded Dogleash of an owl he’d seen in one of Jost’s old picture books.

The strange young man stared up at Dogleash with a mixture of doubt, worry, and startled appreciation. “Er,” he said. “Sorry if I interrupted anything.” He blushed, the golden-brown skin turning deep rose on his cheeks. “I should be going. There are probably more of those maniacs somewhere below. They left float-cycles just around the turbine, if you want to steal one.”

#
Amazon buy link: http://www.amazon.com/Moros-Price-ebook/dp/B008ON1X1K

Author website (books, art, rants): www.cranehanabooks.com/blog

Veronica Scott said...

From Wreck of the Nebula Dream, science fiction romance loosely inspired by Titanic, as the main character Nick evaluates his fellow passengers:

Sipping his drink, he assessed the only other man on the shuttle who was as deadly as Nick himself could be when the occasion demanded – a D’nvannae Brother, dressed all in close-fitting, soft black leather, as they usually were when traveling outside their world. The swirling red tattoo all D’nvannae wore proudly inscribed on the right side of the face, as a sign of fealty to their Deity, was particularly well defined on this man. He must be senior in the hierarchy, given the number of details in the tattoo. Gotta earn those the hard way in the Lady’s service. Halfway paying attention to a broadcast of an inter Sector sports semifinal, the Brother was unbraiding his long, jet black hair, signifying his contract had been successfully complet¬ed and he was now at liberty to accept another.

Who on backwater Glideon might have needed such a high-priced, exotic bodyguard? Or been the target of such a re¬lentless assassin? The D’nvannae could be hired for either pur¬pose, conflicting offers resolved by the whim of the goddess.
As if sensing Nick’s gaze, the Brother turned, eyeing him for a long minute, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. He had a strong face, thin lips, high, chiseled cheekbones, and intense black eyes that betrayed nothing of the thoughts going on behind them. Sensing no challenge, nothing on Nick’s part but bored curiosity, the other man nodded, the fine muscles of his face relaxing.

Still on sale for $.99 this week!
http://www.amazon.com/Wreck-Nebula-Dream-ebook/dp/B007K3P2JE/?tag=verscoblo-20

Babette James said...

From my new release LOVE BURNS:

She’d never imagined the irritable, impatient man could be leisurely, affectionate, but…
Is stealing one moment’s respite from the pain so wrong?
He coaxed her mouth to open to him and innocent ignited to sizzling. He tasted of scotch and heat, and she forgot why she wanted to push him away. Why she should.
He traced his fingers along her collarbone, her shoulder, and her wrap fell away, baring more skin to his exploration. This dress made wearing a bra impossible and with every brush of his rugged frame against her, her body tightened. He cupped her breast, and she arched into his hand. With deft, delicate touch, he caressed her nipple into a yearning point as skillfully as he’d played his guitar. Delightful, worrisome sensation zinged through her body and mind.
As he blanketed her against the wall, all heavy languid strength, his rich, deep kiss leached away the agony of the past weeks, wrapping her in a lovely rising tension. He possessed a magician’s touch with those big hands, gentle, slow, and intense.
Shutting her eyes, Olivia succumbed to the hazy, luring sense of shelter in his arms. Yes, oh, yes, she’d had far too much to drink today, but to be touched with such sweet tenderness, to be kissed as if she were cherished, and held as if he truly cared…
Dave slid his hand up her thigh under the short skirt of the dress. Before the muzzy thought to stop him cleared her brain, his hand cupped her bottom bared by the scandalous silk thong panties bought and worn on JoAnn’s dare.
She gasped as sensibility and sobriety attempted a tiny whimpering return. In the daylight, surrounded by friends and laughter, accepting that dare had seemed safe.

Love Burns on Kindle
BabetteJames.com

Sharleen Scott said...

Caught in Cross Seas by Sharleen Scott
romantic suspense/mystery

Clay tried to remember how to breathe. He never dreamed Harlie looked like that under the jeans, T-shirts, and Converse tennis shoes. He stepped into the room to grab a clandestine peek through the kitchen door. The way her red dress fit had his nerve endings jumping like theater popcorn. When she bent to pour the cat food, the slit revealed a beautiful thigh. He groaned. Her dress would ping the radar of every guy on the Oregon coast tonight. It was already bashing him like a sledge hammer.

Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00KP11IQO

www.sharleenscott.com

Erin OQuinn said...

Ireland, 1924. Post-steampunk. Simon Hart usually dresses to the nines. But today, he must go to the rough docks, undercover, to capture a criminal ...

Jackie’s borrowed clothing fit him, almost. But he had other plans. He took off the shirt and trousers and hung both neatly in his wardrobe along with the black bowler. He let his expensive billfold remain nestled in the pants pockets.

Stuffing his stockings into his leather wingtips, he set them alongside his other footwear. He reached far into the back to find the old pair of baggy kaffies he seldom wore, except as a disguise. The wide suspenders were already attached. His oldest cotton shirt, a worn cloth cap, and his canvas athletic shoes put the finishing touches to his ensemble.

What the ill-dressed man should wear.

Simon dressed quickly, leaving the collarless shirt partly unbuttoned and the cuffs rolled to the elbow. He saw the purple swelling on his wrists and decided no one would notice under the tufts of hair.

From his bureau he pulled out a jock strap and inserted his athletic cup. Just in case. He buttoned the kaffies, remembering to slide his cane into a deep left pocket. His feet felt clammy already inside the athletic shoes without the luxury of socks, but he simply didn’t own a pair of stockings not made of soft silk. Silk anywhere would be a sure way to ruin his careful camouflage ...

THIN AS SMOKE is the 4th Gaslight Mystery. You'll find all of them here: http://amzn.to/1w8PVgI

bluemistlizzi said...

April 1860, Echo Canyon, Utah Territory, U.S.A.

She smelled blood. Its metallic tang assailed her senses, before it was overshadowed by the stench of death. Stepping back to scan the sheer wall of the bluff rising before her, her breath caught in her throat, and a sob escaped. Finally, she'd found him. A scuffed black boot and fur coat showed through the snow, his body wedged into the bottom of a crevice three feet above her head. She looked up to the top of the cliff, from which he must have fallen, but saw no one.
Finding handholds where there were none, Aleksandra Lekarski scrambled up the wall as her heart constricted in her chest. She tugged her father's cold, stiff body free and down onto level ground, giving thanks he'd been out of reach of the wolves, whose tracks abounded in the snow where she now stood. Her world blurred as she dropped to her knees and cradled his lifeless head in her lap, rocking him. Ceaseless tears flowed down her doeskin tunic.
With a numbing pain in her mind, she ran shaking hands over him, seeking answers. What could have made an experienced trapper like Krzysztof Lekarski fall off a bluff and succumb to a death more suited to a greenhorn?

Lizzi Tremayne
http://.lizzitremayne.com
Buy link: http://lizzitremayne.com/store/ All formats digital and softcover.

Shauna Aura said...

A Fading Amaranth, by Shauna Aura Knight
Paranormal Romance

Nathaniel guided Alexandra out from the concert at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. She was dressed in a stunning, deep red silk gown that he wanted to peel off of her body.

His teeth lengthened at the sight of her in that dress, at the vision she made. She was glowing in happiness. He wondered if he dared take her tonight; they hadn’t made love since a week ago, when he’d fought his blood madness.

Tonight he’d tried to put some of his worries aside so that they could enjoy an evening out. He was dressed in his best tuxedo, and he’d managed to find a tie to match her outfit.

She smiled up at him and he held her warm hand in his, delighting in her pleasure. He loved Beethoven, but he loved watching her enjoy Beethoven even more.

“Want to walk along the lake? This balmy air is so lovely, I just can’t resist it.”

“Of course.” He could deny her nothing, not when she smiled at him. There was always the risk of running into the Walker, of course, or the Fae, but he hadn’t smelled the Fae monster in months—not since the night they’d reconnected. Joss hadn’t seen it either. “Can I hail you a cab, my lady?”

She kissed his cheek, and he gestured at one of the doormen. Sometimes it was a relief to find customs that hadn’t changed in a hundred years. A doorman hailing a cab was a strange comfort to him, but he took what he could get.

http://www.shaunaauraknight.com/books/fiction-books/excerpt-a-fading-amaranth/
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00WIRD6ZY