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Monday, July 11, 2016

Wash Line Monday! #MondayBlogs

Our Monday meme shines a light on apparel. From Viking to Regency to Steampunk and every era we write in, 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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Dressing our Characters on Exquisite Quills Wash Line Monday!   


Claire Gem said...

From Award Winning novel, HEARTS UNLOCHED:

Kate shrieked and spun around toward the deep voice coming not only from behind, but above her. She’d had no idea she wasn’t the only one in the stands. How could she possibly have missed this guy?
He appeared taller than he probably was, standing on the level above her which gave him a nine-inch advantage. Broad and imposing under a voluminous, black trench coat, he looked like an old-time mobster with his dark hair and oddly hued, light eyes. And those eyes were studying her with an expression Kate couldn’t quite decipher.
Interest? Curiosity? Or downright hunger?

Assessing him through narrowed eyes, Kate considered. One thing was for sure—she didn’t like this vantage point, him standing so far above her. Not a position she was used to in her life. She grabbed her purse off the adjacent seat and stepped out of the box.
Hell, even wearing her four-inch, Steve Madden boots, he still towered over her by half a head. Kate cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, tossing her long hair back with one gloved hand. The damp chill crept in around her collar and sent a shudder through her.
“You can call me Kate, but only if we reconvene in the Underground. It’s freaking freezing in here.”

Marco held open the heavy glass door—bulletproof Plexiglass, by the looks of it—and Kate pranced through like she owned the whole place, instead of just the mare whose win he’d won two bills on. Her hair fell in ebony waves down her back, nearly reaching her wasp-like waist.
Yeah, he thought. She was all tan and black with the coat and the hair. She really did bring to mind a wasp.
Might want to watch my step around this one.

Book Trailer

Hearts Unloched

Starla Kaye said...

From SO NOT A WHITE KNIGHT by Starla Kaye

Then a dark-haired woman in a form-hugging white dress stepped into the line.

His gaze widened, and he switched to full alert mode. Instant attraction. Definitely nice. A man would have to be dead not to appreciate that. It’s not Essie, though.

He forced down his automatic interest and sipped his beer again. Still, he struggled to pull his gaze away from the hot babe with the short hair.
He sat back and prepared to wait some more. He watched for a woman with shoulder-length brown hair, black-rimmed glasses, and probably wearing nice traveling slacks or maybe a modest dress. Something conservative, like Essie.

Trevon moaned. He trudged down the well-lit winding sidewalk of the main area between the wings of hotel buildings, toward the far building with a few ocean-front condos.

He pulled in a frustrated breath. Awareness and desire tore through him. For Essie, a damn sexy woman in an all-too-revealing hot, white dress walking behind him. He tried not to think about the flirty haircut with the wispy bangs. His fingers ached to smooth them out of the way, see if her hair felt as soft as before.

This woman confused him. Where were those thick dark glasses she used to wear?

God, those eyes. How could he have forgotten how smoky brown they were, how cautious they could be, how inviting, too? And what about her body! She’d been lovely before. Now she was all sexy curves, perfect for a man’s hands to wander over. This Essie wasn’t at all what he’d expected. His Essie had been sweet, almost fragile, and innocent in so many ways. In that dress—Oh, my God, that dress!—she was damn spicy. He liked spice!

Amazon-, All Romance eBooks-, iBooks-

Starla Kaye website -

Margaret Fieland said...

This is from Rob's Rebellion. In this scene, the main character, Colonel Rob Walker, now in charge of the Terran Federation base on Aleyne, goes to buy some local clothing. Walker is a Belan, and, like of most from his home planet, is a mixture of Terran and Aleyni. This is a secret the Belans have sworn to keep.

Oman nodded and waved them into the shop, placing the pile of tunics on a counter already heaped with piles of clothing. “Yes, one of my rolor'in is cousin to one of his, ah, wives.” Oman spoke Common.

Rob shifted from foot to foot. He'd married Carol and would have married Laura if such a thing had been possible under Terran law, but most of Carol's family didn't bother with Terran formalities and instead swore rolor in the Aleyni fashion. In addition, most of Carol's siblings participated in four-way relationships in the way the Aleynis did. His own father had two wives but adhered to Terran customs and had married one of them.

“What kind of clothing were you looking for?” Oman asked. He pawed through the piles on the counter without waiting for Rob's reply, pulling out several pairs of loose pants and matching tunics. “Here, I believe these will fit.” He waved Rob toward a dressing alcove.

Rob emerged from the alcove, still wearing one of the outfits. He placed two more of the loose pants and four of the tunics on the counter. “I'll take the ones I'm wearing and these others also.” He glanced around the shop, which ove rflowed with merchandise, spying a display of sandals on the far wall. “I could use a pair of sandals as well.”

Shortly thereafter, Rob, now provided with a colorful carry sack for his purchases, followed Oman and Ragesh out of the shop and down the block to an eatery. After a conversation with what Rob guessed was the proprietor, a conversation in Aleyni too rapid for Rob to follow, the proprietor left. Shortly thereafter, a pitcher of icy cold tea and three glasses appeared, and after that a plate of crisp fried snacks. It was followed by a vegetable stew, flat bread, cheese and fruit. It was the best meal Rob had eaten since he arrived on the planet.

“Why did you arrest Brad Reynolds?” Oman asked. “Why do you believe him guilty of treason?”

“My orders were to arrest him, so that's what I did.”

“You suspended your own beliefs to carry out the will of another?” Oman asked. “Why would you do such a thing?”

Rob's Rebellion

Anonymous said...

In my novel The Fever, I never concentrated too much on clothes. It is set in 1980 and the hero, Sam, dressed in grunge before grunge was cool. But it was well established that he was so totally obsessed with his longed-for gold mine, he didn't care about much else. His trespassing trips into the unknown required drab earthy tones and that was what he wore all the time. He did note the tattered clothes of the old man, a jailed wino, who told him the riddle about the location.
Interesting thread. Typical male writer I guess ... clothes? They were wearing clothes?
The Fever ebook is free this month, find out what else I skipped. details:

Rose Anderson said...

More Than Wishes by Madeline Archer
~one of nine stories in the new Letterbox Love Stories anthology by the World Romance Writers
The djinn stood with his back to her, seemingly unaware of her return. She’d seen enough of his aquiline features to know he was quite the handsome fellow with his tawny skin and shadow of a beard. He was lean and taller than most men she’d encountered here. There was also something about his bearing, something self-possessing and noble. His black hair was sleek and long and oddly tied in a knot at his nape. He wore full white silk trousers and tunic, both of which had cuffs embroidered in gold, and gold stitching accented his leather shoes from heel to curled toe.
Barnes and Noble
ARe Romance Books

Patricia Preston said...

From "To Save a Lady" Historical Romance set in the French Quarter.

She reached for the silver mask on the dressing table. Finely crafted, the Venetian half mask was made of soft silver brocade with long ribbon ties and a stiff lining to give it shape. Nimble fingers had trimmed the mask with crystal gemstones that captured sparks of light and held them captive.

No matter at what angle you viewed the mask, it was as if the stars of heaven glittered on its surface, winking at you.

This mask had been created for Madame, a woman of immense beauty and wealth. It was a flirty mask meant to be worn in a ballroom by a majestic lady, not a humble lady’s maid pretending to be something she wasn’t.

Read the first chapter at
Buy Link:

Thanks! Hope everyone has a great day!

Barbara White Daille said...

Cowboy in Charge by Barbara White Daille ~ New Release

My heroine is down with the flu, and the last thing she needs is having her ex show up without warning!

He set the cup of juice on the table and looked at her. “If it’s not too early to run the washer, how about we throw in that load of clothes you talked about?”

“I can take care of it later this afternoon.”

“I’m out of clean socks.”

“Oh.” If that was what he needed to be on his way, she would have run a load with a solitary pair of socks—because she needed him to be on his way, at least for a while. She needed time to think. “All right. We can start the machine now.”

While he went to the living room for his bag, she crossed the kitchen. That morning, she had deposited a half-filled basket of the kids’ clothes on the floor near the closet. After she finished loading detergent into the machine, she turned back for the basket—and nearly collided with Jason.

He stood bare-chested in front of her, the shirt he had been wearing dangling from his hand, a pile of other clothes held in one arm. A scattering of dark hair covered his chest. Below, hard abs and a narrow waist drew her gaze downward to the worn-soft waistband of his jeans. The sight left her heart pounding. A jolt of memory stole her breath.

“I just saw I’m out of T-shirts, too,” he said.


Cowboy in Charge just released.
Cowboy in Charge - Amazon

The Daille-y News (Blog)

Thanks for reading, and thanks to EQ!

H.A. Fowler said...

Hi all! First post here!

There is an excerpt on the blog for my pen name, A. Sangrey Black, from my upcoming m/m short romance, Old Dog, Old Trick!

Please feel free to stop by!


Paty Jager said...

Davis: Letters of Fate
Historical Western Romance
Paty Jager

Mariella stood beside him, her arms crossed over the top of the railing. “I noticed. Is there any particular reason you brought in an extra horse?”
“I was hoping you’d help me train him and he could be my horse. Zach was laughing at me this morning because I didn’t have a horse that would come to my whistle.” He twisted his head and stared into her eyes. “I’d like a horse of my own, not one I’m borrowing.”
She liked the idea. He needed to feel like a part of the ranch and not an outsider. “I could help you train the horse. Any reason you picked the half-brother to Dash?”
He smiled. “I like the color, and we’d make a striking pair riding up to people on matching horses.”
She grinned. “Mr. Weston, I didn’t know you were so vain.”
His eyes became somber and the smile faded. “I’m not vain. Vanity is for pompous people who don’t give a care to anyone but themselves.”
Davis paced toward the house. Mariella stared at his back. What did I say?
Mariella’s comment about being vain had struck Davis like a hatchet in the back. God he’d loved Sarah, but it had been her vanity that had caused both she and Christian to drown. As much as he’d been shoving the thought to the side, each night he relived the event in his dreams and realized Sarah’s vanity had cost him his family. She had insisted she wear her best dress, which meant layers of underskirts and her new wool walking coat. He’d tried to talk her into an everyday dress as they were boating and picnicking. Then she’d dressed Christian in that ridiculous wool outfit. Both had drown because of the weight of their clothing when wet.


Helen Henderson said...

Its countdown to release day for Hatchling's Vengeance so here's what Glyn is wearing.

“The village is having a celebration tonight in our honor,” Talann said. “I couldn’t get them to change their mind without insulting them.” He paused. “I’ve got a spare set of clothes that are suitable. You can wear whatever you want. Short of armor,” he added with a chuckle.

Glyn glanced at the sky. “What time is the event?”

Talann’s response of, “Six bells” came back after a few moment’s silence in the link as he conferred with those around him.

“I’m at the market and just passed a cloth merchant.” she explained. “I should have just enough time to backtrack and if he has suitable material take it to a dressmaker.” After a pause while she evaluated other options, she added, “If I can’t find anything that fits, the dressmaker should have enough time to alter something. I remember seeing a leather skirt three streets over that would be appropriate for the event and shouldn’t need too much work. There is one thing though.”

“Yes, darling?” The intimacy Talann sent warmed the skin beneath Glyn’s collar.

“Have an apprentice saddle Parth and brought to the River Gold. I’ll find him there.”
The light touch of a kiss grazed Glyn’s cheek. “Done and done.” In a blink Talann disappeared from the link.

Two candlemarks later, well within time for the event, she walked out of the dressmaker in the first gown she had ever worn. Even as she relished the feel of the starlton, she fought the sensation of feeling naked. The long lace sleeves wouldn’t hold a dagger. But my boots do, she told herself. Her short sword was rolled up in her old breeches ready for quick access.
Hatchling's Vengeance - Vengeance takes many paths—and has a long memory.

Available at

For excerpts, complete distribution list, or a free read of the first chapter of Hatchling's Vengeance, go to and click on the cover.

Kelley Heckart said...

From The Wolf Queen:
Ena helped her wrap the layers of deerskin around her body, over her breasts, crisscrossing the leather underneath, creating a “V” shape of her chest, and wrapping the leather around her back, where she tied the ends together, leaving a slightly wider layered skirt covering her hips and upper thighs. She was surprised at how the snug-fitting tunic caressed her skin, the deerskin hanging in supple, jagged lengths of varying shades of brown to her mid-thighs. It smelled faintly of citrus. “Mmm, this smells pleasing.” She touched the deerskin. “And it is so soft.”
Ena flashed her a secretive smile. “Nymphs are skilled at working leather.”
Alara fastened a belt with a sheathed sword around her waist and pulled on the soft leather boots lined with sheep’s wool, crisscrossing the laces around her calves. The night air chilled her bare arms and legs. Grateful for the cloak, she draped it around her shoulders, fastening it with a bronze brooch. Glittering silver threads caught her attention. Created in successive linking shapes of the different moon phases, she sensed the power in the designs. Straightening the cloak, she faced Ena and Niren. “I am ready.”
Niren gave Alara’s new clothes a sweeping glance. “Lycaon is a fool.” Holding a torch, she turned and led the search to find him.
Alara sent Ena a questioning look.
An amused smile turned up one corner of Ena’s lips. “I think she meant you look beautiful.”
Alara’s cheeks flushed at the disguised compliment, hoping Lycaon would think the same. Niren’s torch flickered, drawing farther away from them. Ena and Alara hurried to keep up with the mercenary’s fast stride.

Kelley Heckart
Otherworldly tales steeped in myth & magic.

Cora said...

From HAIKU DANCE, Historical Romance of ancient Japan.
They waited one ringing of the gong to mark the new hour before Miyoshi entered. She seemed to float in, wearing a flowing, yellow kouchigi cloak embroidered with a long, red dragon design on the sleeve. Her movements were graceful and delicate.

Shino sat mesmerized as he watched this beautiful vision.

“Holy Buddha!” Kenji said under his breath.

Her long hair, dressed into two plaits fastened with a yellow ribbon, trailed down her back to the floor. The white streak in her hair was still there, not blackened but carefully smoothed and highlighted beneath a tortoise shell comb.

Shino remembered the child that peered up at him through that white shock of hair always hanging in front of her eyes. Where once it embarrassed her, she now accentuated it. As he stared at her, he wondered if she was still the same proud, independent Miyoshi underneath all that refinement.

Underneath all that refinement—

Her father smiled as she drew close, extending his hand to guide her to a cushion next to him. “Ah, my Miyoshi-gozen.” Love and pride glowed in his eyes.

As she lowered herself seamlessly onto the zabuton, her waiting lady arranged her robes about her. All the while, her fan never dropped below her eyes which remained focused downward.

Shino could not stop staring. This woman, could she really be the same Miyoshi I knew as a child? His heart thundered and his loins tightened. She was the most exciting woman he’d ever seen.

Kenji poked him, snapping Shino out of his daze, and they stood.

Fujiwara nodded and said, “My daughter, Lady Lotus.”