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Sunday, July 24, 2016

Sunday Peek

The Sunday Peek is an opportunity to get a buzz going for your soon-to-be released or re-released novel.  

Post a tempting 300-word snippet from your most recent endeavor. Be sure to add your website/blog link, a release date if you have one, and one link to where your other books can be found. Example: Your Amazon Author's Page.

Have fun!

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Discover NEW favorite authors on Exquisite Quills  


Iris B said...


Sophie Levesque stared at the attorney in front of her, waiting for some answers. She and her little sister, Mia, had been quietly sitting in Mr. O’Connor’s office for more than half an hour, learning about the details of their inheritance. Once he was finished, silence hung in the air before she asked with raised eyebrows.
“Clara Catherine Bellinger.”
Mia leaned closer to her elder sister and gave a soft tug on Sophie’s shirt. “Who is she?”
Sophie shrugged. “I wouldn’t have a clue.” Then turned her attention back on Mr. O’Connor and asked the same thing. “Who is she?”

Release date 11th August -


gemwriter said...

A TAMING SEASON: A Love at Lake George Novel
by Claire Gem, released June 16, 2016

Jason watched as Zoe turned back toward what was left of her family’s cottage. This had to be a cruel assault on her childhood memories. He couldn’t help but feel a stab of pity for her.
She turned and faced him, planting her hands on her hips. “How is that even possible? How could she sell you the right of way, but not the property?”
Even from twenty feet away, Jason caught the flare of anger in her eyes. “So you took her right of way and forced her out. Leaving her—and now me—with a worthless piece of land.”
He tipped back his head and squinted, studying her.
Not such a soft, vulnerable little thing after all. This one has a streak of wildcat, though quite ingeniously disguised.
“It’s not exactly worthless.” He spat the four words out, one at a time. “And I didn’t take Delia’s right of way, Ms. Anderson. I purchased it, fair and legal.”
Zoe stalked back, stopping inches away and glaring up at him. She folded her arms across her chest. The action pushed her freckled cleavage into view.
He couldn’t help it. He was a man, after all. His eyes sometimes had a mind all their own. They strayed down toward those luscious looking, speckled mounds. He also couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching, just once.
Yup. Spotted mountain wildcat.
She caught him. When he lifted his gaze, her gold-flecked, green eyes had darkened to flint. She made a dangerous, guttural sound as her fisted hands dropped to her sides.
“My attorney,” she said, stomping past him, “will be the one to determine exactly how fair and legal.”

Amazon Author Page

Kryssie Fortune said...

Here's my opening scene from
Dominated by the Dragon,
release date 28th JUly

CUFFS HELD HOPE’S hands behind her, and a leash ran from the collar at her neck to the top of the cage. Barely able to move, she shivered on the exposed Yorkshire moor. “Hey! That wind’s freezing. We need some clothes here.”
Heads swiveled in her direction, but not one coven member came to her aid. She shivered anew at the malice in their collective gaze. Wrists tensed, she strained at her bonds, but the cuffs didn’t give an inch.
The wind whipped over her bare nipples and whistled around her ears. Legs crossed in an illusion of modesty, she longed for a fur coat. Even pants and bra would be good. Turning her back wasn’t an option since she didn’t dare take her gaze off her captors.
In the second cage, another woman whimpered, “Don’t antagonize them. They’ll only hurt us worse.”
Hope couldn’t imagine worse. Well, since she was about to be the prize lot in their slave auction she could, but she refused to think about that. When they’d learned she was a virgin, she’d become their star attraction. If she could only move, she’d kick the stuffing out of her captors when they came for her. Instead, the metal collar and leash kept her tethered and helpless. She shivered her ass off while the black coven performed perverted sex acts around her.
My Blog Link

My Amazon Author page

thefensk said...

In my soon to be released novel, A CURSE THAT BITES DEEP, main character Sam finds a note from a late friend who echos his own grandparent:

"If you search really hard for something, often you'll find it. But the 'it' you find may not be the something you were after."

No set release link yet but it is a sequel to The Fever and that novel is free until the end of the month at:

While there -- join my mailing list and I'll tell you when the new one is ready. When the paperback is published one subscriber will win a copy (haven't officially announced this yet).

J. Rose Allister said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
J. Rose Allister said...

Feillor: God of Lammas
Sons of Herne book 6
Releases this Friday, July 29

“Either silence your tongue or rise up so I may hear it properly,” he said. “Your words are muffled within the stalks of sacred wheat you are crushing.”
She shoved herself up on her knees.
“I didn’t mean to damage your wheat. I…I don’t even know where I am.”
“You are in the sacred fields of Avinar.” His voice was rich and deep, every bit as commanding and smoldering as she would have expected from a god. “Where no pure mortal has ever tread.”
“How did I get here?”
“How indeed.”
She risked a glance upward to find him staring down at her with the scythe hoisted casually over his shoulder. Blessed be, he was so…male. Every enticing inch was sculpted and bronzed, much like the statues of gods immortalized in classic Roman-Greco fashion. He wasn’t much more clothed than she was, wearing some kind of suede cloth around his hips and ankle boots to match. Cuffs of hammered gold clung to his forearms. All his muscles were on display, each one a taut, bulging testament to his gender. He was the sort of male that sparked inside women the need to surrender to his touch, a desire to bear his very children.
His long, reddish-brown hair was pulled back, save for a few wayward strands that blew across his carved features. His eyes penetrated her with an intensity that stopped the breath in her lungs, very masculine, but far from human. As was the rack of horns on his head that had given away his identity the moment she saw him.

D. Thomas Jerlo said...


“I walk between two worlds, similar to you. During the day, I’m human. At night, I become something else. Something dangerous. Something only a few believe in.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m a hellhound. I deliver souls to Hell.”
How long has it been since he’s had his lithium levels checked? “You do what?” she asked in a croaked whisper. A part of her wanted to laugh hysterically. The other part wanted to run like hell. Literally. And then there was this ache in her heart that kept her seated on the couch.
“After I died, there was only one place I was going. I made a deal. Actually, I was given a gift, and such gifts like that are rarely given, but the alternative? It’s penance for my past sins.”
She closed her eyes. This isn’t happening. And here I thought I was losing my mind. He takes the cake, and icing too. She inched away from him, trying her best to do it casually. “You expect me to be—”
“Last night you wore flannel pajamas with blue hearts on them. You dreamt you were on all fours in the middle of a street made up of flagstones. There was fog all around you, and the air was filled with the stench of brimstone. Lots of brimstone. Something came up behind you.” She jerked upright.
“A hellhound, right?”
“How do you know that?” He moved a tad closer, which made her push back even more.
“Because it was me. I was there. With you.”

Dawné Dominique writing fantasy as D. Thomas Jerlo

Amazon Page:

Paty Jager said...

Reservation Revenge A Shandra Higheagle Mystery
Shandra woke to strains of Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s “Dream a Little Dream of Me” from her phone.
She glanced at the clock. Six.
Then the phone. Aunt Jo.
She sat up straight and stroked her finger across the small screen. “What’s wrong?” Did this call have something to do with her dream?
“Shandra, we need your help.” Aunt Jo sounded close to tears.
“What’s happened?” She shoved the hair off her face and stood, walking out of her room.
“The police were here along with an FBI agent. They think Coop killed Arthur Roundtree.”
The distress in her aunt’s voice made Shandra’s stomach churn. “What does Coop say about this?”
“We don’t know. We haven’t seen him since Saturday night.” A deep inhale and she added, “I know my boy. He wouldn’t kill someone.”
She didn’t think Coop was a killer either. “Gather all the information you can and I’ll be there in five hours.”
“Thank you,” Aunt Jo said and hung up.
Shandra continued to the kitchen. She started a pot of coffee and dialed Ryan.
“Morning, beautiful,” Ryan said, his voice still rough from sleep.
Any other time his familiar greeting would have made her smile. Right now there was too much on her mind. “Grandmother came to me in a dream last night. She was crying.” She didn’t wait for Ryan to comment. “Aunt Jo called this morning. The tribal police and FBI are looking for Coop. They think he killed someone.”

Releasing Sept. 2016


Amazon Author Page

Helen Henderson said...

Windmaster - Released July 20 Available at Amazon

Find Helen online at Blog / Amazon Author page


Calling a halt, Ellspeth wiped the sweat out of her eyes. The workers slid beneath wagons or into the sliver of shade presented by the ship’s shadow to escape the searing mid-day sun. Silently she counted the number of barrels and crates still on deck. “We need more hands,” she declared. Desperate to get her goods undercover before the heat ruined them, Ellspeth searched the bustling docks. She focused on a man. Not because he busily shifted crates, but because he lounged against a barrel placed in the shade.

His clothes seem of good quality. Maybe he’s a local tradesman. After a second look at the well-worn loose breeches, tight vest, and leather neckband, she corrected herself. Or, the younger son of a chieftain from the Mtwan mountain region. A few quick steps took her to the loafer who watched her approach, amusement sparkling in his light brown eyes.

“You look strong. I will pay you ten coppers for the day. That is double the going rate. Payment when the Sea Falcon is unloaded.”

Accustomed to an immediate response from her crew, Ellspeth’s fists clenched at his insolent stare when he ignored her and took another bite of his meat roll. His gaze holding hers, he raised his earthen mug in salute and asked. “Do you even have ten coppers?”

Several long swallows later, he clanked the drained mug down on the barrelhead. The slowness with which he wrapped the remnants of his meal in a small square of white cloth and wiped the foam from his lips with the back of his hand frustrated Ellspeth even more. Slipping the bundle into a small pouch hanging from his belt, he turned the movement into a courtly bow.

His cool tones were at odds with the smile that never left his eyes. “Lead on. I’ll give you an honest day’s work for an honest day’s wages.”

Ellspeth paired herself with him as they worked to unload the ship. There was something different about this dockhand. But what? The heavy bolts of Nerevian silk seemed much lighter whenever he held the other end. She felt her face warm at the image of his hands unbinding her hair.