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Five-Line Friday-Your Choice This Week
Where authors and readers meet to share and read romance novel snippets!
Five-Line Friday RULES
- Five lines of your current work in progress, new release, soon-to-be-released … whatever. (Do keep it as close to five sentences as you can.)
- You are welcome to post buy links too.
- PG (I don’t have a warning on my blog about content, so it has to be appropriate for all viewers. I will delete comments that aren’t appropriate or offensive to some audiences. (Sorry.)
Well, I had a hard time deciding what to share this week, so I decided to go with a snippet from Virtue and Valor.
In this scene, Isobel is dealing with a foxed Yancy.
Yancy proved a silly drunkard, and Isobel smiled, despite herself.
“Come now, my lord.” She tugged him another foot. “All these years you’ve spent time in Ewan’s company, and you haven’t picked up any Scots?”
“But I never wanted to tell Sethwick he was beautiful.” Yancy appeared so perplexed, a giggle escaped her. He caressed her bum again.
“I said, stop that.” She slapped at his hand.
“Tell me how to say you are beautiful, and I love you.” His voice dropped to a gravelly timbre, and he nibbled the sensitive flesh along the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
I’m looking forward to some terrific tidbits.
This is from my latest cozy mystery/romantic suspense, “The Prosecution of Mr. Darcy’s Cousin.”
“Explain to me, Edward,” she said with exaggerated patience, “how you intend to rid yourself of these horrors if you return to the current battles? Will not your seeking the familiar only reinforce the manic incidents you most fear?”
“Your softness, Wife, is more frightening than all the dismay of battle. Your smile more dangerous. The haunting sound of your voice more alluring.”
Edward presented her a humorless chuckle.
“Your charms bring more harm to my heart than any enemy’s bullet ever could.”
Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Prosecution-Mr-Darcys-Cousin/dp/1941859259/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441298473&sr=8-1&keywords=the+prosecution+of+mr.+darcy%27s+cousin
Kindle http://www.amazon.com/Prosecution-Mr-Darcys-Cousin-Prejudice-ebook/dp/B00YTETDLA/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1441298473&sr=8-1
Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-prosecution-of-mr-darcys-cousin-regina-jeffers/1122032805?ean=9781941859254
Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-prosecution-of-mr-darcy-s-cousin
That’s wonderful, Regina!
Very nice, Regina
My scene is from The Gentle Knight. Peter has just left Brighit at the Priory where she will be taking her vows.
“We are not known here. You are a…target.”
“Have someone try and capture me for ransom. They’ll soon find they have more than they can handle.” Now why did that statement bring her upturned face to his memory? Her lips parted invitingly, slightly pink from their first passionate kiss.
“Damn me.” He cursed under his breath and headed out the door.
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Gentle-Knight-Norman-Conquest-Book-ebook/dp/B00V48GXA8
It’s wonderful to have you here today, Ashley, and what a delightful excerpt!
So many books to read, so little time! Wonderful excerpts, ladies.
Here are five lines from my novella, Liliana’s Letter, which is up for pre-order, releasing October 15th:
All the air whooshed out of her, and blood raced through her veins. A marriage proposal, from a man who was honorable, and kind, and quite handsome. He would want to have children. She was not too old for that, but he could find a better, younger match, after his family’s scandal passed. She opened her mouth to tell him that, and the touch of his lips melted away the words
Here’s the shortened link to Amazon: http://amzn.to/1R5RWqM
Happy Friday, everyone!
Ha, nothing like a kiss to quiet her protests!
I do enjoy these glimpses of everyone’s lovely books. Here is my entry, from The Heart of the Phoenix, Sir Stephen and Lady Evelynn’s story.
Strong arms enfolded her. Warm lips dotted light kisses along the side of her face, and a
raspy voice murmured in her ear. “It’s all right, love. You’re safe. I have you.”
She knew that voice. Stephen. He’d keep her secure. Her muscles eased, and darkness claimed her.
http://amzn.to/1LCMvzo
Okay, I love him.
This is from my upcoming release (don’t know when), The Rake’s Irish Lady. I didn’t know what to choose either, so I just picked the first thing I saw.
Colin flipped a stray lock—he needed a haircut—off his brow. His hair was what had attracted her to him in the first place, all those years ago—a rich, dense brown, unlike her unmanageable, whisper-fine black. And then he’d smiled.
Dimples. What idiot fell for a man because of his dimples?
Especially when that smile was for some other woman, and not a respectable one at that. But she’d done it, then and there.
Hi Barbara. You got me at “that smile was for some other woman”. Nice to see you. Sherrie Hansen
Fabulous, Barbara!!
Thanks, Collette. Intriguing snippet.
Here’s an excerpt from my WIP, “The Weeping Dragon” (medieval fantasy romance). A bit of context: Sir Reginald, the father of the heroine Dorrit, had a nightmare. He describes it to Sir William, his friend and her suitor. Sir Reginald is sure the dream is prophetic. But what does it mean?
“I saw Dorrit, begging me for help. One of her ankles was shackled to a stake in the ground.
“Then I saw you nearby, likewise shackled. I tried to free you both, but failed.
“Suddenly the ground trembled. Between the two of you, a giant hand rose out of the earth. It must’ve been twenty-five feet high, and looked as though it were made of stone rather than flesh.
“It grabbed Dorrit, snapped the chain as if it were a thread. Then crushed her to death in its grip.
“The hand dropped her and grabbed you. And did the same. Then reached toward me.”
As always, feedback is welcome. Have a great weekend, everyone!
A very intriguing passage, Mary Anne!
I’m dying to know what happens next!
He looked up from the pictorial coffee table books on local lore and wildlife and smiled. Well, it was more of a half-smile. He usually wore a sour look on his face, which suited his outwardly dour personality. She was surprised to note that his eyes were blue eyes, almost the color of the bay on a bright summer’s day. The lines around his eyes softened as he acknowledged her presence. He was probably close to forty, if not over. And, he was very fit. Even with an overcoat, she could see his broad shoulders which tapered to a narrow waist.
contemporary romance to be published in an anthology this Fall. Title was changed yesterday and may change again. 🙂
How exciting!! And a marvelous snippet too.
My snippet from is from Shy Violet, the latest of my Wildflowers of Scotland novels. Buy Link: http://amzn.com/1938101545. Thanks, Collette!
“Alexander?” Her knees collapsed under her, a good thing, because she disappeared behind the counter and the half wall that separated the food prep area from the dining room just as Alexander crossed the threshold of the Castle Café. Oh Lord. If the pirates decided to retaliate, it could be over in minutes. The staff had been drilled about a possibility such as this, and she trusted them to keep their lips zipped. But the pirates were loose canons. Who knew what they would do?
She crouched, then sat on the floor of the kitchen just to make sure the top of her head wasn’t visible from whatever angle or spot Alexander was standing. She looked around the room even though she already knew there was no escape.
“Excuse me,” Alexander said.
“Can I help you?” Lyndsie and she had talked about this scenario and if Alexander showed up, whether or not Lyndsie should act like she’d forgotten Alexander’s face, or if it would be more believable if she greeted him as though he were familiar. “Aren’t you that guy who was here last week looking for someone?”
“Yes. My wife, Violet.”
His wife? The café was so quiet they could have heard a mouse scurrying across the floor. Or in this case, a rat.
LOL! What will Violet do now??
I can see this!
Here’s an excerpt from my WIP, Duke Du Jour [regency time-travel].
To set the stage: The 14th Duke of Reston falls into a fountain on his ancestral estate and wakes up in 1816, where he is accosted by a strange woman known only as Cook, who mistakes him for his namesake the 7th Duke of Reston who’s gone missing since Waterloo. Thanks, Collette!
“Are you telling me you haven’t been paid in six months? And you’re an employee here?”
She looked at him as if he’d grown an extra head. “I’m a servant ‘ere,” she said warily.
“That’s impossible! We’ve never made our employees wait for salary.”
“I don’t s’pose not,” she said. “No one would wait for celery. Leastways not me.”
“Not celery, salary,” he almost shouted.
LOL! I’m still grinning.
From my newest- Wish Upon a Waltz
He didn’t know who she was.
He thought she was dead.
“Dead,” Anastasia cried into the night. She had not stopped running until she reached
the temple. She rested her head against the cold, fluted column, pounding her hand over and over against the unforgiving stone. Pain ricocheted through her hand, but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
http://www.amazon.com/Wish-Upon-Waltz-Alanna-Lucas-ebook/dp/B015PHRV5Y/ref=sr_1_7?ie=UTF8&qid=1443220342&sr=8-7&keywords=alanna+lucas
Thank you Collette!
I have a story where the hero thinks the heroine is dead too!
I looked and looked for a good drunken scene, but my characters are all alarmingly sober. I will have to fix that in the next MS. 😉
This is from ‘Tis Her Season, in Mistletoe, Marriage, and Mayhem, due out Nov. 1, and now available for pre-order. http://ow.ly/RJ4Cc
***
“You will be a bride tomorrow, so you must know what will happen in your bedchamber with your husband.” Bella’s face turned red, and she stared at her hands, but in the mirror, Charlotte marked her surreptitious interest. Both girls were silent, even for breathing.
Sliding the brush gently through Charlotte’s hair, her mother began, “You mustn’t believe the silliness of servants when they tell tales. It cannot be counted the most pleasant of activities, but it is not the worst, either, and if you wish children of your own, it will be your duty to make him feel welcome in your bed.”
“But…” Charlotte said, her brow furrowed. “But, how do I do that?”
“Hide those willful tendencies and keep a smile on your face no matter what he does.” Her hands swiftly braided her daughter’s hair, half-successfully tempering a glower in the looking glass. “Never hinder him, for he will know what to do, and in no time at all, I will have grandchildren and your husband will have an heir.”
Well, Mama sure put a damper on things.
Heh. She’s good for that. 😉
Taking on the less than sober theme, here is an excerpt from Letter from a Rake, my Romantic Book of the Year finalist book.
A very hungover hero…
As he made his way on foot to his parents’ house, every step he took was agony. His eyes were like two tiny slits in his face, barely allowing him to see the path in front. Crossing North Audley Street, he did not bother to look left or right; he merely stepped into the road. The way he felt at that moment it would have been a blessed relief to be run over by a large mail coach.
When he first woke that morning, still in his evening clothes, Alex thought he had swallowed his shirt. It had taken several minutes to realise that the large cloth-like thing filling his mouth was actually his tongue.
http://www.sashacottman.com
Sasha, I LOVE this! 🙂
That last line is a killer, Sasha!
It’s still Friday…gonna squeeze in five lines from my NEW RELEASE, Souls Estranged Book two of The Souls Trilogy. Sam and Gretta are having a conversation over a plate of lasagna.
Gretta and Sam slid into the chairs at the table. He dug into the steaming layers of pasta, cheese, and sausage. After a minute of silence, Gretta’s grin caught his eye.
“Batman or Spiderman?”
Sam laughed before answering. “Hanes. Plain, white Hanes.” He peered sideways to Ruby and lowered his voice. “Fifteen years ago, Spiderman.”
http://amzn.to/1OwiC5C
Thanks Collette!!
Too funny. What a fun snippet, Anne.
Well, if we’re going with less than sober…
As soon as Hugh Overton managed to unstick his eyes and crawl out from whatever was weighing him down, he would search out another drink. He’d been keeping the world’s largest hangover at bay for nearly a fortnight, and he wasn’t going to stop now.
Meanwhile, he lay still, trying to sort through his memories and match them to sparse sensory information to decide where he was…
He cautiously opened one sticky eye. The weight holding his legs in place was a sleeping woman sprawled across his thighs.
http://judeknightauthor.com/books/a-baron-for-becky/
You write rakes so well. 🙂
That’s great, Jude. That’s what happens when one drinks to excess!
He is pretty sure her name begins with ‘J’. He is wrong.