Monday, April 9, 2012

Monday Blues Promotion- We're back!

Oh yes, we are back and ready.....question is, are YOU?

It was a holiday weekend. For some, you may have had a three day weekend, which means Mondays suck even more.

So, let's hope for some great excerpts today to fill your minds with the wonderful entertainment of reading.

We have no feature today, but that doesn't mean you can't play. The comments section is WIDE open, authors, so get your best excerpts ready with today, April 9th, theme.

In honor of the previous weekend being April Fools, I thought it would be fun to have excerpts revolving around a character, or characters being played. fooled, tricked...It doesn't even have to be April Fools. Be creative and share some juicy, enticing excerpts. Please post the book tittle, your author name (Sometimes it doesn't show up fully when you comment. We want readers to be able to look you up) and maybe a buy link, so that readers can find your books if they wish.

Word count on excerpts should be no more than 500 words. Yes, you can go over that a little bit if it fits, but not too much over, okay?

I hope that you'll share this post with everyone you know. The more the merrier, right?

I will post next week's theme later. Last time, it seemed some people were getting confused on which theme went to what day. I need to come up with a better way of posting those, and getting them out in advance so I can have some features.

So remember, TODAYS THEME is a character or characters being pranked, fooled, get the idea.

So, let's have it! I'd love to see what you have for me today!

Happy Monday.

Until next time,

Storm Goddess


  1. Hi Nikki! I'll play along.

    I'm Sheri Fredricks, and I write Modern Mythic Romance.(

    This is from my novel REMEDY MAKER (available July 2012, Ruby Lioness Press). It's an unedited scene where the hero -Rhycious- is confused over the heroine's name. I hope you like it!

    Her scrutiny drifted down his thick neck as he lowered her to the bed. Light through the window reflected off his wide silver armband when he adjusted her pillow. Decorated with two engraved half circles, one inverted to hook the other, the cuff appeared to either choke his biceps or restrain his deltoid—depending on how you viewed it.

    "What's your name?" His voice rumbled deep and comforting.

    She pushed her heavy eyelids up and sought his face. Her lips formed the word, but the sound wouldn't come.

    "Try again."

    The armband drifted closer when he planted strong arms on either side of her shoulders to lean in closer, tilting an ear toward her mouth.

    A deep breath in through her nose caught his scent…and a whole lot more. Masculine male, spicy and rich, filled her head with promises of wicked pleasure. Naughty things she and her friend Daisy would giggled over.

    She pushed her name out on the exhale. "Patience."


    If his scowl appeared terrible before, it grew positively black now. Was this guy in a perpetual bad mood or what?

    "You want me to have patience?" His gaze flicked over her length. He took a deep breath, held it, then let it out through pursed lips. "Look, I don't know who you are, but you have to have family in the area. So, if there's someone…"

    Deep resonations vibrated his tone. Patience found her caregiver's voice downright soothing, despite his fierce facade. She shouldn't have gone down so easily in her latest encounter with the human hunters. Fear only played a minute part of her current illnasty. In truth, she hadn't felt good for months.

    Restorative sleep floated her away, letting her forget about running for her life, the pain of her missing sister Serenity, and angry men with brooding eyes.

    1. Oh, you tease! You big bad tease! I have to wait HOW LONG for this book???? *Pouts* So not fair!!

      Thank you for playing. I am really intrigued now and if the anticipation doesn't kill me first, I will be buying this when it releases!

  2. nice excerpt.

    Can't think of one of mine that fits. but will be back next week.

  3. This is taken from my debut novel, Love's Prophecy.
    In this scene the hero told the heroine he is a vampire but she doesn't believe him. she thinks her friends set this up as a prank.

    “Okay, Carol,” Breeana said in a loud voice, looking around the room. “Enough is enough. Where's the camera? You got me good, I'll have to admit that. How you pulled this off is beyond me, but I finally figured it out. Although I must say, this was a little extreme, even for you!”

    Who was she talking to?” Realization struck. She believed this Carol had played a practical joke on her. Shit, not even Kal—as good as he was—could pull something this extensive off.
    Mel blew his breath out. “Breeana, I don't know who Carol is, but I assure you, this is no joke.”

    “Come on, Carol. Joke's over.” She jerked a thumb toward him. “One thing I want to know is, where the hell did you find this guy to play the part? I hope he gets paid a fortune because he was fanfrickintastic!”

    She clapped her hands, apparently applauding his performance.

    Okay, this was going nowhere, and fast. Mel rubbed his forehead, trying to ease his tension. She thought he was an actor for Christ sakes. Just bloody wonderful. He leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes, praying for patience.

    “You were great, but you gave it away when you said you were a vampire.” Laughter still clung to her voice.

    1. Love it! Woohoo, thanks for playing, Brenda!

  4. Great excerpts. Mine is from Lord Beaumont's Bride. The scene is where Robert Beaumont traps Lady Serena into marrying him.

    Robert lifted his head slightly and raised a haughty brow. His hand remained firmly on Serena’s breast, allowing everyone to see him lay claim to her before he slowly released it, caressing her possessively as he did.

    Serena opened her heavy lids and turned towards the direction of his gaze. Miss Tice’s mouth hung open. Serena turned her head away. Her heart beat so quickly she was sick, mortified to have been caught like this with Robert. The shame she brought on her family. She’d ruined herself and she knew better. Oh Lord! Please let this be a nightmare! Serena was barely aware of him still holding her tightly against him and wholly unprepared for what happened next.
    Robert addressed the group with a languid drawl. “You must excuse us. We are celebrating our betrothal. You may wish Lady Serena and me happy.”

    Miss Tice abruptly closed her mouth. Mr. Camp and the others stuttered. “Yes, yes, my lord, of course, very happy to wish you happy. Very happy indeed. If you will excuse us, we didn’t know.”

    Mr. Camp quickly led his party further down the path.

    In a voice loud enough to be heard, Beaumont said, “My love, did not you express an interest in walking to the lake? I believe we may now do so.”

    He bent his head to kiss her again and unable to resist the temptation he offered, she returned his kiss. Slowly he took her hand and put it on his arm.

    As her body tingled, her mind numbed. The very thing she’d not wanted to happen had. Now what was she to do? She couldn’t marry him. Not now! Not like this. Serena glanced up at him, expecting to see the same concern and consternation. A smug smile graced his countenance. Like a blinding light, comprehension struck her. She stumbled, and he caught her. Robert did it on purpose! He purposely placed them—her—in a compromising position. One he knew would lead to an immediate declaration of marriage. Serena’s breath came more rapidly, and anger and chagrin rose within her.

    When Beaumont looked down at her, his smile was gone; the concern she’d wanted to see earlier showed in his eyes. “Serena, are you all right? It’ll be fine. I’d planned to ask you to marry me today.”

    Her breasts heaved and she allowed her anger to show. “But I, sir, did not plan to accept.”

    1. Nice! Great excerpt. Thanks for sharing :)

  5. This is from the end of Dog On Fishing from Emily Dahill, CID Part 1-
    He remembered hearing one time, he couldn’t remember
    because to him as with all collies time was irrelevant, all that
    counted was food, potty, sleep, loving and grooming, Special Agent
    Emily Dahill say that timing was everything. So he waited and
    waited until she was almost on top of him. Then, in much less time
    than it takes to tell, he slithered off the cooler and with his nose
    popped up the lid.
    Emily slid to a dirt scattering stop inches from Dakota and
    the cooler. What was before her she couldn’t put into words. Seven,
    eyes clear, scales bright, trout lay stacked like cord wood on ice
    cold wine, beer and soda. Without a backward glance to her friends
    she announced, “Jack, looks like you’re right, we get steak. But. . .
    Dakota gets trout.” She stepped aside uncovering the chest filled
    Silence, except for the silence of the collie panting, ever so
    pleased with himself, rained down on the surprised friends as they
    gazed into the cooler.

  6. Thanks for this opportunity to share an excerpt, Nikki. This is from my Scottish historical romance, My Wild Highlander. In this, the heroine, Angelique, thinks the hero, Lachlan, may have been unfaithful to her and attempts to get back at him by pretending to take a lover. But it doesn't work out so well. :)

    "I don't care," Lachlan muttered as he stormed blindly out of the castle. Angelique could have her wee laddie if she wanted him that desperately. "This is a damned sham of a marriage anyway. Unfaithful, scheming, thorny bitch!"
    When he reached the stables, a strong emotion struck him—battle rage, bloodlust. He turned on his heel and strode back through the great hall and up the stone steps, seeing no one and nothing save his destination. Fire pounded through his veins. He felt strong enough to topple a stone tower.
    "Lachlan?" Rebbie trailed after him.
    "Not now. I'm killing vermin." He drew his sword.
    At Angelique's sitting room door, he used all his strength to kick the solid oak. The door swung back and hit something. He charged in. "If he lays a damned hand on you, I shall slice the bastard limb from limb!"
    Angelique stood by the fireplace alone. Where was the whoreson?
    Someone scuttled out the door behind him. He turned to see the retreating red cloak.
    "Coward." Lachlan sprinted after him.
    "Lachlan!" Angelique tailed him. "He did not touch me."
    "You don't wish me to kill your lover?"
    "He is not my lover! You dolt." She yanked at the plaid on his back but he did not stop.
    By the time Lachlan reached the courtyard, Philippe was running for the open gates.
    "Damned whoreson."
    He hated the victory he saw in Angelique's eyes. It took all his strength to keep from throwing her over his shoulder and carting her back upstairs to give her a sound thrashing on the arse. She sent him a haughty look and disappeared back inside.
    He motioned two of his guards forward. "Follow that lad, seize him and put him in a cell below," Lachlan said in a low voice. "Don't hurt him or let anyone know you've captured him. I'll question him later."
    "Aye, m'laird." The guards mounted up.
    Lachlan returned to the great hall where a couple dozen pairs of curious eyes watched him. He gave a brief bow. "Carry on." He took the stairs two at a time to Angelique's room. The sitting room door stood open. Her bodyguards remained at their post, staring into space as if Lachlan wasn't a mad fool. Aye, he knew he was, but he didn't care. Angelique was his wife and he wouldn't be sharing her. He knocked at her bedchamber door. "Angelique?"
    "Go away!"
    After she'd barred the door on him last night, he'd decided he would have no more of that and had removed the plank of oak when she'd gone down for breakfast.
    He lifted the latch and pushed. Something sat before the door—a trunk—which he shoved out of the way.
    "I will not speak to you, monsieur."
    "Aye, you will and be glad for it."
    "You, sir, are jealous!" Angelique gave him her back.
    He slammed the door, placed the trunk before it again, and advanced toward her. "I am not jealous! I am your damnable husband. No man who is married to you will have a pleasant life. 'Tis a certainty."
    "Merci. Nor will any wife of yours."
    Grasping her waist, he turned her to face him and pressed her against the nearest wall. Taking her chin in his hand, he stared at her lips, lush pink. He would not share them. "Did you kiss that bastard?"

    This excerpt is from My Wild Highlander, available now at most online booksellers.

    Vonda Sinclair's website

    Thanks!! :)

  7. I wish I had something to fit the theme! Great excerpts everyone! Had fun reading them!

  8. Nothing to fit the theme...great posts all.


  9. Excerpt from my novel, Jack of Hearts, being released in June. The protagonist, a small, Italian dog, is recuperating from a surgery to recover a diamond ring he snatched from the hands of his master, the philandering Count. He sees his condition as part of an elaborate joke performed by the attending vet.

    Days passed, growing longer each week. Soon I awoke to sunlight instead of darkness. Winter receded. The invitation of an open window first prompted my Contessa to notice change. Barren trees in the courtyard below allowed a hopeful tinge of green. I stood on the pillows atop the bed and we greeted spring together. I demonstrated my improving health by jumping gingerly from a low chair. The Contessa approved. Finally fit for a long walk, she escorted me to the Pincio for my usual rounds.
    “Su, coraggio,” she said.
    Courage, indeed.
    The veterinarian's sense of humor had not gone unnoticed. I might as well have been neutered. The thought sent a chill up my hind legs. I was still bound up like an incomplete package: fresh rag around the belly, neat bow on my back, ridiculous cone about my neck. Far from a picture of Italian style. My friends at the park approached with care when I appeared in the gardens after the long absence. I didn’t blame them. I had glimpsed myself in the Contessa’s closet mirror.
    Frightening, I thought. I understood their trepidation.
    Dead-on I resembled a clown at carnevale. A broad collar obscured my body, paws peaking from underneath like mittens attached to the bottom of a child’s coat. From a distance I could be mistaken for an obese dog of a wealthy shut-in, a pet bloated on rich cheese, confined to feather pillows. For the first time I was grateful for the mediocrity of canine eyesight. Perhaps most of my acquaintances would pass me by completely. No right thinking dog dared approach. Certainly the attraction of any female was impossible in my present state.
    No chasing today, perhaps never again. I imagined the rest of my life led in embarrassment, without company—in isolation.
    The collar was too conical to allow a side view, but I expected I’d taken on a likeness to the fat handled plunger resting neatly next to the commode. I hoped the collar masked my identity, but I’d had no bath since the incursion to my belly. My scent alone would betray me. It was a fear soon realized.