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Thursday, October 1, 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!    


Kimberly Dean said...

Excerpt from Hypnotica

With a broad smile, the hypnotist bounded across the stage and down to the bottom of the stairs. “Okay. Come and get me, Gorgeous.”

For a moment, Copper just sat there.

“She’s not going to do it,” Larry whispered.

He barely got the words out of his mouth before she slowly rose to her feet.

“Uh oh,” Jolene said. When her sister started walking across the stage, she clamped her hand over her husband’s forearm. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

No kidding.

Nick’s full concentration was on Copper, as was every other heterosexual male’s in the place. A few sexually ambivalent ones, too. He watched as she accepted the hypnotist’s hand as she walked down the stairs. The look on the man’s face was hopeful but she passed right on by him.

The crowd laughed at his comical disappointment.

The laughter quickly died. It was replaced with a heavy feeling of anticipation as Copper slowly surveyed the room.

Nick noticed intuitively that she was moving differently. More confidently. Her chin was held high, her back was straight and her chest was out. The sway of her hips, though, nearly caused one elderly man to hyperventilate.

She was a woman on the hunt.

Eyes that watched her became heavy-lidded. Mouths went dry and more than one man shifted in his chair as his cock stirred to attention.

Nick’s was past stirring. He was so rock hard, he could hardly breathe.

“Larry, what do we do?” Jolene whispered.

Larry’s verbalization skills had suddenly disappeared.

Breaths caught as Copper found her mark. She started moving across the room, not quickly, but definitely with purpose. The intrigue thickened and eagerness lit the place like a fuse.

Nick tensed, ready to stop whatever was about to detonate.

He couldn’t move, though, when she turned her sights on him.
Only 99 cents:

Pablo Michaels said...

The Slumber Party from Affairs of Men’s Hearts

“I want to talk more, but…” He hesitated, but then finally sat next to Benjie. His left hand slowly touched Benjie’s right thigh, clutching it. “I looked up to you in high school, even though I didn’t know you. You were popular, smart, and easy going, just like you are now.”

“I was so uptight then. I didn’t have sex with a man until I turned twenty.” Benjie rested his hand on Nick’s shoulder, more out of compassion than foreplay. He’s touching me. That’s a surprise I like. My cock is getting harder. Fortunately my Levis hide it. He made the first move. Now, what?

Nick squeezed Benjie’s leg harder, indicating he was hoping for a different response.

Benjie’s hand squeezed his shoulder, reading Nick’s response, as needing something more physically aggressive. His eyes glanced toward Nick’s crotch, the outline of an erection beneath his pants announcing Nick’s arousal. His own erect penis jerked and throbbed. After Benjie unbuttoned Nick’s short sleeve shirt, he massaged his large, firm pecs and smiled.

Benjie’s hands explored Nick’s chest, his fingers gently brushing the hair growing between his nipples, slowly tracing down the center of his ribcage to his navel.

“I feel funny when you touch me.” Nick trembled, laying his hand on Benjie with the slightest touch. “Am I a queer?”

“Nick, don’t say the word queer! Gay! That’s the right word to describe who we are. But I might not be the right person for you to find out if you’re gay with.” Benjie stared at Nick’s cock as it pulsed beneath the upper leg of his pants. Fuck! What am I supposed to do now?

“Please touch me, anywhere.” Nick pleaded, staring at his own crotch, while slipping a finger onto the top button of his pants.


Erin OQuinn said...

Simon's battle with himself is part of the ongoing conflct of the four Gaslight Mysteries. This is from #SPARRING #WITH #SHADOWS, gay romcom mystery:
Simon's head tilted to the ceiling, a look of anguish on his face. “You called me omi-palone. You think I’m a sexual toy. A ready hole. A piece of flesh. All the things I saw tonight, that’s what I am to you or to any man.”

Michael felt a huge sense of loss threaten him. His throat began to close up, and he tried to clear it, to force air into his windpipe.

“What I called ye? I called ye me love.”

Crap. Simon was forcing his hand one more time, shaking loose the cards entrenched in his sleeve. He struggled to tell Simon something of what was cramped and curled in his gut.

“An’ what I think of ye? I think ye’re the best thing ever happened to a broken down Irishman. An omi-palone is not one to revile. That’s who I am. Proud to be a lover of men. Of a man. One man. God damn it, what d’ye want me to say, Simon?”

Michael, head bowed, saw the limp suspender lying on the bed, a shadow of Simon’s despair. Then his companion’s hand began to inch toward his own.

“I would rather you say nothing. I would rather you lie here with me. Only that and no more. Will you?”

Still in his rude trousers, Michael rolled to where Simon lay on his back. He pulled the naked shoulders into his own chest and let the man’s tangled hair spread there, a dark wound.

LindaRae said...


If twin brothers love the same woman, is two times the romance worth double the trouble? When Clarinda married the Earl of Norwick, she thought she was marrying the identical twin who courted her with pink roses and delectable kisses. Embittered by her choice of his brother David, Daniel left London to run the earl's estates. With David's sudden death comes a reunion of the star-crossed lovers. Clarinda thinks Daniel despises her for being a fortune hunter. Daniel knows Clarinda despises him, but why? Meanwhile, David's ghost is paying nocturnal visits to Clarinda while annoying Daniel with instructions to pursue his widow and pleas to discover who caused his untimely death. Who can be in mourning when twin brothers are causing so much trouble? Or is two times the romance worth a bit of sibling rivalry?

Maggie Jagger said...

Aunt Tempest’s hand pointed in her direction from the carriage window.

Lizzie’s legs froze.

Lord Felmont turned towards her. One man hurried after him. She forced air into her lungs and waited for them to approach. She wasn’t afraid of him! Long gone were the days when she had struggled to not show her fear, or worse, faint at his feet. To her shame, she had done just that the day the Felmonts had celebrated her betrothal to him. Even her mother had found it vastly amusing, but those days were long gone.

He was hatless, an almost certain sign he was foxed. He moved with his odd loose-limbed grace, his long legs covering more ground than his companion.

They left a silver trail in the morning dew coating the lawn.

Even the way Felmont walked towards her seemed insulting. She willed herself to be calm. He could only want to thank her for repairing the Folly.

He stopped. Close enough to touch.

His long dark brown hair had been bleached at the ends by a foreign sun, showing a strange reddish color, as if he had been singed in hell’s fire and spat out. Maybe Satan had no use for him either.

He had a handsome face if the Felmont likeness could be overlooked, not that Lizzie intended to try. It was said the Felmonts got their long noses and high cheekbones from the first Viscount Felmont’s gypsy wife, but then men always blamed women for everything.

stanalei said...


Cindy almost had the coffee lid in place when someone bumped her arm.

“Oh! Excuse me,” said a deep baritone voice.

The apology barely penetrated as hot mocha latte spilled onto Cindy’s business casual slacks. Oblivious to the cacophony of chatter in the crowded coffee shop, she stared at the milky brown stain spreading down her pant legs.

A zillion voices in her head told her how stupid she was to wear light colored slacks. Hitting the snooze button three times this morning had been a huge mistake. She didn’t have time to change before the meeting. And why today, of all days, couldn’t he have picked a better way to make an introduction?

Mr. French Roast—no cream—turned and offered a polite smile to go with his apology. His dark eyes widened at the mishap his little “bump” had caused. “Did I do that?” he asked, sounding more like Sam Elliot than any mere mortal had a right to.

A sensation of rich, dark chocolate melting over her tongue filled her mind. If he continued speaking, she’d join the puddle of coffee spreading over the top of her shoe.

“I’m sure it was my fault,” Cindy answered. Her breath stalled when he leaned closer to survey the damage, providing her with a whiff of spicy aftershave that mingled with coffee and man.

Thanks for letting me play today!

Susan Macatee said...

From 2009 Civil War romance release, Confederate Rose.

Alex eyed the clear bottle half-filled with amber-colored syrup.

When he didn't move, she said, "Eat. Ye'll be needing yer strength."

"Pardon me?" He reached for the bottle.

"Ye've not looked outside, I take it."

"Outside?" He glanced at the gauze-covered window.

The sky appeared dark. After glancing at her, he rose to investigate. When he pulled back the curtain, the sight before him sent his stomach plummeting. Snow covered everything as far as he could see and continued to fall from the lead-colored sky with furious resolve. "This can't be. I have to get out of here today."

He thought of the dispatch in his pack. He had to get to the Federal camp five miles east of here. How could he do that now? Then there was the matter of Mrs. O'Reilly's mailbag, still hidden in the stall with the horses.

He turned from the window.

She seemed to read the look on his face. "Ye'll not be leaving here today."

He pushed a hand through his hair. What was he to do now? He was trapped in this cabin in the middle of nowhere with a lovely Irish Rebel. Meanwhile, he had a Federal dispatch in his pack he'd be unable to deliver but would certainly incriminate him if it fell into Rebel hands.

The woman picked up her knife and fork but continued to look at him. She pointed to his plate. "You should eat. Ye'll feel better."

"I don't think so." He took the seat across from her. He stared at his meal, unable to summon back his appetite.

"Starving yerself won't make it go away," she said between bites.

"You're right." He picked up the utensils she'd set for him. "It does smell mighty good."

"Go ahead," she urged. "Fill yer stomach."

Reggi Allder said...

SHATTERED RULES by Reggi Allder, this is from the second Chapter.
Brick had vowed it’d be a cold day in hell before he saw Carrie or Kelly Shaw again. Now with Kelly sitting beside him, hurt and in danger, he didn’t know what he wanted. He cursed his boss, Don McCallum, for asking him to take this undercover assignment.
At a stop sign he glanced at her again. She purred in her sleep. He’d forgotten how small she was, delicate, but not fragile. There was a time when she was just his fiances playful kid sister. Back then he’d barely noticed her. However, she’d grown up. A dazzling female slept in the seat next to him. He noted the curve of her lips and the fullness of her breasts. Even hurt and exhausted, she oozed sex appeal. She definitely wasn’t the awkward teen he remembered.
He focused on the road and brought his mind back to the problem at hand. It was important to get the facts of what happened last night before time dulled her memory.
Years working at the FBI had taught him sometimes it paid to be patient. She’d experienced a trauma and needed rest. He’d find somewhere for them to stay. After a nap he’d ask her to tell him, in detail, everything that happened last night.