A Few Lines From. . . Tricia McGill

This week, a few lines from Mystic Mountains by Tricia McGill

 "So, you're filling out a bit, I see." He tightened his grip just below her breasts. "A full belly hasn't improved your temper though. Now, be still, little bundle. I'm your master an' I have the right to do as I like with you."

            "Do as you like?" Isabella squirmed away from him. With violently shaking hands she straightened her skirt. Her cheeks flamed when she looked up to see he watched her every movement closely, as if it was his right. The twinkle in his eyes made her temper rise. "I'll kill myself if you take what you see as your rights. Anyway, what would you want with the likes of me when you have so many other women chasing after you?"

"Oho, so you've heard the tales of my exploits with the fair sex, have you? I feel I must set you straight on that account. There aren't that many. But you're right on one thing. I wouldn't fancy you in a fit. I prefer my women to be amenable." He placed his hands on his hips, returning her stare with the arrogance that set her teeth on edge.

            "Then I'm saved from a fate worse than death, for amenable I'll never be." Isabella stepped out of his reach. But to her horror he made a grab for her, grasping her hand. She tugged but he refused to release it.        

           "Now then, which fruit did you want?" he asked, his tone now quite pleasant. "Perhaps I can reach it without resorting to climbing the tree."      

           Isabella stared at him, then pointed to a bunch within easy reach for him. "That one, and those there." She breathed a small sigh of relief when he finally let her go then reached up to pluck them.

            "Hold out your apron," he ordered, dropping the apples in. "There, will that satisfy Thelma?"

Pulling free the cloth tied round his neck, he used it to wipe his brow. As he retied it he watched her like a cat stares at a cornered mouse.

            "I ... I think so." Isabella gathered her apron to her chest and turned to flee, but he caught her by the arm again.

            "Bella. Satisfy my curiosity, will you?"

         His soft tone made her suspicious. She watched him cautiously. "How?"

            "Are you happy here in my household?" he asked softly, those strange eyes of his searching hers.

            "As happy as any woman can be working for an Englishman." That was a dreadful lie, for she'd seldom been happier.

            "You're not yet a woman, Bella. You have a lot to learn about how real women behave."

She disagreed, but wasn't about to go into that argument now.

Mystic Mountains is available here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EFE5UL6

 

 

A Few Lines from . . . Diane Bator

A Few Lines from The Bookstore Lady by Diane Bator

 

 

When the hunched over, balding pharmacist next door called out, “Good morning, Katie,” her hand flinched and her heart raced. It took her nearly a full minute to remember she’d been Katie Mullins for two months and she’d better answer before he got offended.

“Hi.” She nodded.

The drugstore opened at eight every morning and it was now quarter to ten. Must have been a slow morning if he had time to stand in the doorway with a large cup of coffee rather than hanging out behind the back counter. “You’d best convince Ray to get some air-conditioning for that store before your new books curl up and warp. It’s beyond me how he’s never lost half his books every summer.”

“Dust absorbs the humidity.” She smiled wryly. “I don’t think we can afford air-conditioning this year.”

“I know a guy who’ll give you a quote. He’s not bad looking once you get past the bug eyes and scars. I can call him, if you’d like.”

“Maybe some other time.” Like when hell froze over.

He waved and went back into the drugstore.

Katie drew in a deep breath. The air was fresh from last night’s rain and the hint of a breeze mussed her hair. In two months, the only thing to find her was the sunshine and a case of withdrawals that made renovations hell. Nate, bless his heart, had had more compassion while she fought “the flu” than any man she’d ever met.

She blew a strand of stray copper hair out of her mouth and jiggled the door lock. Another thing that needed to be fixed before winter. She should have done it during renovations, but it hadn’t seemed as important as books and workmen. Luckily, Nate worked cheap and she hadn’t had to dig into the money from Dunnsforth. The money was tucked up in a box in the backroom, fastened with half a roll of duct tape. She’d ask him to fix the lock when he delivered her order later.

The door opened with a groan. “It’s about time.”

Available at:

http://www.amazon.com/The-Bookstore-Lady-ebook/dp/B00DWKNGPQ/

Tricia McGill follows with A Few Lines next week.

Diane Bator

Website: http://penspaintsandpaper.com
Blog: http://dbator.blogspot.ca/

A Few Lines From . . . VIctoria Chatham

A FEW LINES from  COLD GOLD by Victoria Chatham

 

“Well, look ‘ee here!” The first rider grinned at her, revealing a mouthful of stained and crooked teeth that reminded her of broken tombstones. “New blood in town.”

“Hello, fancy lady,” the second rider said. “You goin’ to share a drink wi’ me before we share somethin’ else?”

The other riders dismounted and gathered around her, jostling Serena until her back flattened against the wall of the saloon. Her mouth quickly dried up. Her heart pounded. She smelled their sour breath and sweat-stained clothes, felt their anticipation and wished she had paid more attention to Sheriff Johnson’s warning.

“Oy, you lot!” Every head turned at the strident tone of a woman’s distinctly English voice. “Jasper, you idiot, you don’t know a real lady when you see one. Cal, you wouldn’t know what to do with one anyway. Tom, Walt, Clarence, stand back and give the lady some room. Clear off, the lot a’ ya.”

Grumbling, the men turned away and walked into the saloon. Serena closed her eyes and sighed with relief.

“Are you stupid, or what?”

Serena pushed off the wall and faced her rescuer. The force of the expression in the woman’s blue eyes almost caused her to take a step back again.

“I...I wasn’t thinking,” she stuttered.

“That was perfectly obvious,” the other woman retorted. “Come on, we need to get you off the street. This way.”

The woman took Serena’s arm in a strong grip and hurried her along the boardwalk in the opposite direction to the Eldorado.

“In here.” The woman opened a door and pushed her into a store redolent with the warm and wonderful aromas of coffee and fresh baking. “Go on, straight through that door facing you. I’m right behind you.”

Her rescuer’s hand, firm on her back, gave Serena no choice but to go where directed. The moment she passed through the second door, she spun on her heel.

“Just who are you?” she demanded. “And what gives you the right to push me around?”

“Well, pardon me for breathing.” Anger spiked the woman’s voice and blazed in her blue eyes. “You’d rather be pushed around by a bunch of randy miners, would you?”

“No, of course not. And I do thank you for coming to my aid, but who are you?”

“Someone you shouldn’t be seen with, that’s for sure.”

“Why shouldn’t I be seen with you?” Serena looked her rescuer up and down and might have been looking in a mirror, so similar were they. The woman was her height, dressed in clothes as fashionable as her own. Tendrils of hair, blonde rather than dark brown, framed the woman’s face and, just like Serena’s own skin, the woman had a fresh, clear complexion.

“Because I’m Lorelei Sutton and I own a brothel just outside of town.”

Buy at http://www.amazon.com/Cold-Gold-Buxton-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B00F04HD1K

Visit Victoria Chatham at

www.bookswelove.com/chatham.php

www.facebook.com/AuthorVictoriaChatham

Join us next week for A Few Lines from Diane Bator

A Few Lines From . . . Joan Hall Hovey

This week, a few lines from The Abduction of Mary Rose by Joan Hall Hovey

The teenage girl hurried along the darkening street, head down in a vain attempt to divert attention from herself as she headed for her bus stop, still over a block away. The car behind her was a soft growl in the still, warm air.  The day was fast fading, the sky a light mauve, only a sprinkling of stars yet. Soon it would be dark... Ignore them, she told herself. But it was impossible to do with the car following so close that the heat from the motor brushed her bare legs, like a monster's breath.

 

http://www.amazon.com/Abduction-Mary-Rose-ebook/dp/B005M4W22I/

Victoria Chatham follows me next week.

 

A Few Lines From. . . Connie Vines

Brede swallowed, trying to ignore the thick, tight feeling wedged in his throat.  He didn't welcome the onslaught of emotion that filled his chest and caused him to stroke her jaw with an unsteady finger tip.  He reminded himself that he didn't need to be involved in her problems; he had enough of his own.  As soon as the roads were passable, he'd get her to a doctor and the police could take care of the rest.

Still, no matter how hard he tried to remove himself from the situation, he kept remembering how fragile she'd seemed in his arms.  he felt as if he'd carried a sparrow, all feathers and tiny bones, out of the gully.

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://www.amazon.com/Brede-Rodeo-Romance-ebook/dp/B00DRPHILY

Connie Vines

Expect the UnExpected!

novelsbyconnievines.com 

https://twitter.com/connie_vines

Stop back next week for a few lines from Joan Hall Hovey.

A Few Lines From… Angel de`Amor

This week, a few lines from His Betrayal Her Lies by Angel de`Amor

 

She moved to her dresser, opened the bottle, and rubbed the lotion all over her body, paying special attention to his two favorite places to nibble—her neck and legs. The butterscotch skin, brown eyes, and petite body that were reflected in the mirror as she massaged her legs made her feel extra sexy. She stood and did a little sensual dance as she opened her underwear drawer, selected a striking red lace thong, and slipped it up her legs.

Some teeny devil must have been sitting on her shoulder urging her on. “Yeah, this thong is all the clothes you’re going to need.” She pulled her four-inch red pumps out the closet and slid them on her feet. “Sorry, babies,” she told her aching feet, “but I gotta look good tonight.”

She snatched her wallet out of her purse off the nightstand and her Blackberry off the bed as she walked to the living room closet. Wrapping up in the long, black, fox fur coat would protect her from the chilly November weather.

                                                                                                                

 

 

http://www.bookswelove.net/deAmor.php

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CV7GJ00

 

Please stop back next week for a few lines from Connie Vines.

A Few Lines from… Kathy Fischer-Brown

A Few Lines from…

Kathy Fischer-Brown

Winter Fire

"Get back!" he shouted. "The ice won't hold you!"

She whirled around in alarm.

And in that split second, he saw her eyes. Those startled doe's eyes. Zara Grey!

In the next instant, a crack—like a musket shot—echoed through the ravine. She reeled as the ice heaved up beneath her amid an angry surge of black water. And then, her face frozen in a look of surprise, her mouth open in a semblance of a silent scream, she disappeared through the widening breach.

His gaze fixed on the roiling chasm, Ethan hurled himself down the slope. She surfaced—flailing arms and legs, and gasping desperately for air—churning up the black water into an icy froth. She grasped at the splinters of ice.

"Keep your head up!"

Racing along the bank, he ripped off his deerskin jacket and hurled it, along with his rifle and belt into the snow. If she went under again, she'd be trapped. Already the current had taken her, sweeping her like a bobbing cork toward the opposite bank where the ice was thicker.

"Keep your head up!"

But the frenzied movement of her arms had slowed. She gasped at the water along with the air. She could barely keep herself afloat. As if she had made a conscious choice to surrender herself to a stronger power, he saw the spirit drain out of her. An eerie calm settled over her eyes as her gaze met his, then she slipped under again without a struggle.

Without stopping to think, Ethan tore off his shirt and moccasins, and dove through the opening.

Buy from Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Winter-Fire-ebook/dp/B004BA5GMM

Visit Kathy’s website: http://www.kfischer-brown.com

Stop back next week for A Few Lines from… Angel de' Amor

A Few Lines From. . .Jane Toombs

Bride of the Baja by Jane Toombs

After a long ride Alitha was untied, pulled down from the horse and carried to a hut, where she was pushed inside and left alone in the darkness. She lay huddled on the ground for a moment listening to the sounds around her—the pounding of the surf, the drunken shouts of the men, the neighing of horses, the barking of dogs.

Coming Soon! Find this title and Jane's other books at: http://bookswelove.net/janetoombs.php

Please stop back next week for a few lines from 

Kathy Fischer-Brown.

A Few Lines From. . .Janet Lane Walters

A Few Lines from Shattered Dreams by Janet Lane Walters

Without a glance at the waiting patient, she strode to the counter. The aroma strengthened. Hadn’t been her imagination. She turned her head and stared at the man wearing the green cotton examining gown. She gripped the edge of the counter. Blood rushed from her head.

“You’re dead.” The words slashed the silence. This couldn’t be happening.

“Hardly.”

The voice sounded like the one from her dreams. She opened her mouth to ask where he’d been and what he’d been doing for the past twelve years. She sucked in a shallow breath. Asking that question would only stir the emotions she had frozen.

“Don’t bail on me. Sit down.”

Her fingers had no feeling. Waves of darkness dimmed her vision. The edge of the counter disappeared. Her knees buckled. Blackness engulfed her.

* * *

 

“Manon!” Rafe Marshall leaped from the examining table in time to catch her before she hit the floor. He cradled her against his chest. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered. Why did she think he was dead? He knew news of his accident had been kept quiet because the police believed he’d been deliberately forced off the road. Who had told her? Had the informant been the driver of the dark car his rescuer had seen speeding from the scene?

 

 

 

Find Shattered Dreams here:

http://www.amazon.com/Shattered-Dreams-Moonchild-ebook/dp/B00DPZT6K2/

 

Janet can be found daily at http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com/

 

 

Stay tuned. Next week A Few Lines features Jane Toombs...

 

A Few Lines from. . . Betty Jo Schuler

This week, a few lines from Finding Freedom by Betty Jo Schuler

                CELESTE HARTE GLARED at the twenty-nine candles on her birthday cake. She'd squandered her last fourteen birthday wishes asking for a fairy tale romance, and her life still read like an instruction manual. The frog she'd hoped would turn into a prince—God rest his soul—had been a cheating toad. Leaning her hands on her glass-topped kitchen table, she puffed out her cheeks and blew. I wish I'd meet a man who would turn my life into a sizzling romance novel.

            "Easy." Marianne Joest raised an auburn brow as she swiped cream frosting from her blouse with a manicured nail. Closing her eyes, she sucked her fingertip. "Mm. Next best thing to an orgasm."
     "My life is half over, I haven't made love in I-can't-remember-when, and you talk about orgasm?"

       "Half over?" Marianne snorted. "And I thought Susan was the drama queen." She cut two slices of cake and handed Celeste one. 

  

      Celeste shook her head. "It's loaded with fat."

        "Dammit, Cee. This is carrot cake, a vegetable with frosting. You're thin enough no matter what Harry said, and twenty-nine isn't the beginning of menopause."

http://bettyjowrites.com

http://bookswelove.net/bettyjoschuler.php

Come back next week for a few lines from Janet Lane Walters.

A Few Lines from Hazel Statham

Today, a few lines from His Shadowed Heart by Hazel Statham.

The shadows of the remaining light played across Caroline’s sleeping countenance and he smoothed a lock of hair that had strayed across her forehead. He knew the desire that his lips should follow his finger’s course, but even in his state of inebriation, he knew this would be foolish.

For several minutes, he watched his wife sleep, eventually placing his head upon the pillow beside her. His lips curved into a loving smile as his eyes drank in her sleep-softened

countenance and he felt her breath caress his cheek. The longing to hold her became an almost physical thing and his arms ached with the suppressed desire.

Eventually she stirred, muttering incoherently in her sleep, and he raised himself up. *What foolishness is this*, he thought. *I am acting like a callow youth, *and immediately he was on his feet. Snatching up the light, he went quickly out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

http://bookswelove.net/statham.php

Come back next week for a few lines from Betty Jo Schuler.