A small note, there will be no excerpts next week, so I’ll be doing back-to-back excerpts, today and tomorrow.

Today for Excerpt Thursday, we have a nice variety. Let’s see if you agree. And if you’d like to read the blurb for any of the three books, click on the cover or the title. Okay, let’s get going, it’s time to read.

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Fox’s Bride ~ Amy Ruttan
Release Date: December 1, 2009 ~ Cerridwen Press

She turned her back on the man she just threw overboard. She was laughing to herself as she casually cleaned and reloaded her pistol. She put the pistol back into her holster and then faced her captives, the mirth all gone. Her face stern, her cold eyes trained on them. What would those gray eyes look like glazed with passion? Fox shook his head, he couldn’t believe he was thinking these thoughts about a pirate—a pirate who should, for all intents and purposes, hang from the gallows. He had been at sea far too long, he needed a woman, and he needed one soon.
“As you can see, I do not tolerate disobedience. If you all cooperate and remove your valuables I will spare your lives.” She motioned to John and the men stepped forward with bags in their hands.
Fox cursed as he removed his fob watch and his family signet ring. He saw that the pirates who went below decks were ushering passengers and crew upstairs, including his valet who looked visibly shaken and highly affronted.
“I tried to stop them, my lord, but they sacked all your trunks.”
Captain Meg turned to him then, overhearing his valet address him by his rank. She smiled cunningly as she looked him up and down.
“Well, well, a lord of the realm here on this ship.” She bowed with a flourish and several of her crew, including John, laughed. “Maybe I should ransom you to your relatives.”
Fox scoffed. “You could but they’ll never pay. I’m an outcast, my dear.”
She cocked her eyebrow, seemingly intrigued by his response.
“Tsk, tsk. What about your poor wife? I’m sure she would be lost without you.”
“You can try her, she is quite wealthy. Although, you may find her hesitant, she’s never met me.”
“Ha, I find that hard to believe.” Captain Meg unsheathed her rapier and pointed it at his heart. “Her name, my lord, or I will run you through.”
Fox smirked, thoroughly enjoying his repartee with this enchanting vixen.
“Happy to oblige, my dear. My wife is Lady Madeline Foxton of The Coral Reef plantation in Montego Bay.
Captain Meg’s eyes flew open in horror and she quickly turned away. Fox was confused by her response.
“Sorry, did I say something to offend?”
She turned around abruptly, the blunt end of her pistol raised. Why is she angry? was his last thought before everything went black.

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All He Desires ~ Anthea Lawson
Release Date: November 1, 2009 ~ Kensington

Injured by a fall from her horse, Caroline Huntington is aided by her friend and traveling companion, Maggie, and an older French gentleman who is on Crete for archaeological excavation.

Crete, March 1848

Maggie led Caroline to where a rustic vehicle waited. “I would not think a village of this size boasted a doctor. How fortunate that help is so near.”
The Frenchman smiled, though there was something cautious in his expression. “We shall see. Come.”
The cart rolled forward over the rough track, and it did not take long for Caroline to fall into a hazy, pain-filled daze. The night sky, the flaring torches, the jolting ride wove together into a disjointed tapestry. She did not realize they had halted in front of a cottage until Maggie coaxed her upright and helped her from the cart.
Monsieur Legault went to the door. He pounded, and pounded again until at last it was opened by a figure who remained in the shadows. Caroline blinked, her vision still blurred. A tall man, she thought.
“What do you want?” His voice was gruff.
“Mr. Trentham, we require your help.” The Frenchman waved to where Caroline stood, supported by Maggie. “The mademoiselle is injured.”
The man shook his head. “I cannot help you.” He began to close the door, but Monsieur Legault set his foot in the jamb.
“I ask you not to be stubborn. She is hurt—she must be seen.”
The shadow moved closer to the light. He was tall, his hair the color of night. The torchlight painted hollows under his cheekbones and cast his uncompromising nose in sharp relief. He did not look like a doctor, not with his creased clothing and untamed hair, a scowl making his face even more forbidding. When his gaze moved to her, Caroline felt it, a nearly physical sensation, like standing under a storm cloud just before the fury of wind and rain lashed down. She shivered.
He regarded her for several moments, measured by the rapid beat of her heart. His eyes seemed black in the flickering light. That intent gaze moved down to her dusty boots, then returned to her face.
At last he turned to the Frenchman. “The woman is on her feet. She looks well enough. Take her to Rethymno.” He stepped back and made to close his door again.
“You must help us,” Monsieur Legault said, a pleading note in his voice. “Rethymno is too far, and you know how little talent the doctor there has.”
“Enough to care for an injured arm. Good night.”
“Wait!” Maggie stepped forward, bringing Caroline with her. “You cannot refuse—you are English!”
“Oh?” He paused with one hand on the door frame, his lips twisted as though he had tasted something bitter. “I don’t see that it signifies.”
“Of course it does. This is Miss Caroline Huntington, the niece of the Earl of Twickenham. How can you consider yourself a gentleman if you turn her away?”
“Who says I consider myself a gentleman?”

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Kismet ~ Monica Burns
Release Date: January 5, 2010 ~ Berkley Trade

“Do you like bananas, monsieur?” She reached out and slid her fingers over the length of one particularly thick stalk of fruit. With a quick snap, she broke off the banana while she allowed her breath to catch in her throat before she released it as a soft gasp of pleasure.
“Not particularly.”
Her gaze didn’t leave his face as she snapped the stem of the fruit to break open the peel. With delicate moves, she pulled back the yellow skin of the banana to expose the fleshy white meat of the fruit. His expression was unreadable, but he betrayed his rapt attention in other ways. The way he held himself rigid, and the tic flexing in his face. Then there was the fire darkening his intense brown eyes.
Tipping her head back in a slow, elegant manner, she parted her lips and swirled her tongue around the tip of the fruit. Eyes closed, she sighed with pleasure and slowly drew the banana into her mouth. The sharp hiss of his breath filled her ears and she quickly pulled the fruit from her mouth to eye him with innocent concern.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. He swallowed hard, and simply shook his head. Smiling, she sighed. “I hope you don’t mind me indulging myself. I adore bananas. They’ve such an…erotic quality.”
Not waiting for his answer, she closed her eyes then tipped her head back again to demonstrate the skill she’d learned years ago. Slowly, she slid the firm flesh of the fruit in and out of her mouth. With each leisurely stroke, she took more of the banana into her mouth until he rewarded her efforts with the choked sound of a man struggling not to cry out.
Certain of his undivided attention, she gently bit down on the fruit to free it completely from its peel. In the next instant, she swallowed it whole. The dark growl he made vibrated across her skin, and she smiled with triumph.
Lightly, she touched her fingers to first one corner of her mouth then the other as if to wipe away any lingering residue from her lips. The jubilant taste of victory flooded her mouth. The man had just experienced the illusion of Allegra Synnford, courtesan extraordinaire. Her gaze shifted downward to where his erection created a natural tent inside his sherwals, and she returned her gaze to his face.
Aware that she needed to retreat before his ardor subsided, she stepped to one side of him, her shoulder pressed into his. She turned her head and noted the taut white lines of tension at the corner of his mouth. He knew he’d lost their wager and he wasn’t happy about it. She needed to tread carefully.
“Forgive me, monsieur, but I must return to the reception before I’m missed,” she said softly. Extending her hand, she brushed it over his erection. His jerked at the touch and dragged in a sharp hiss of air. “Thank you for a most…stimulating tour of the gardens.”

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Hook me.

It’s like a dare isn’t it?

I’ve read your back cover blurb and it’s…oh, I don’t know, so-so. I’m not convinced I should spend my hard earned $4.99 – $13.95 on your book. Let me check   the inside excerpt. Darn, it doesn’t have one. I could read the first couple pages, but that usually doesn’t do me much good. I’ll always remember a certain perfume shop scene that began one of my all-time favourite reads. Oh look, the latest Anna Campbell…

This is exactly what authors don’t want to happen to their book. I mean with the bookshelves packed tight with a gazillion books competing for readers’ attention and dollars, it would be such a shame if the poor author had a cover attractive enough to catch readers’ eyes but their back cover blurb wasn’t quite enough to hook ‘em. They need just one other thing to compel perspective readers to buy–a truly “hookable” excerpt.

What’s a hookable excerpt? It’s different for everyone, I imagine. I know what hooks me (serious sexual tension, great conflict) won’t be the be-all hook for everyone–though, I daresay, it will appeal to quite a few (Threw in a little Victorian speak). LOL.

Following are three excerpts meant to get readers to invest their time (reading) and part with a token amount of cash. In return, hopefully, they’ll have discovered another author to add to their “instant buy list”.

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Devil in a Kilt in Red Sage Secrets Volume 27 Untamed Pleasures - Nicole North

Length: Novella

Setup

Shauna MacRae has been having uncontrollable erotic daydreams about a certain Highlander for months. Determined to rid herself of these intrusive, overwhelming fantasies, she heads to the Highland Games to find a real kilted hottie. A mysterious older man compels her to hold a four-hundred-year-old, two-handed claymore. In the next instant, she finds herself in a Scottish castle bedchamber, though she doesn’t know at first that it’s 1621.

She gaped at the dangerous, heavily-muscled giant with long, dark hair standing before her. He was more than a foot taller than she.

“Omigod.”

A straight white scar ran from his forehead to his jaw on the right side of his face, but the injury hadn’t affected his eye. His gaze pinned her to the spot. She knew those eyes, pale aquamarine-blue with a darker rim around the outside of the irises, surrounded by thick, dark lashes. He studied her and frowned with a wicked, black slash of his brows.

Her fantasy lover was back.

“Not now! Very bad timing.” She shook her head, trying to escape her daydreams.

He glanced at the sword on the floor, then back to her. “Ye think to kill me with my own claidheamh dà làimh, do ye, lass?”

At first, she could hardly understand the words he’d rolled up in the thick Scottish burr, then finally decided most of them were English.

Huh? He never said things like that in her fantasies. In fact, he never spoke English, only purred those Gaelic phrases that sounded so exotic and arousing.

“Explain yourself!” he demanded, sending her a glare such as she’d never imagined.

“No, I—”

The candle’s light glinted off the blade of a dagger in his other hand, and warmed his sun-bronzed skin—dear God, he was completely naked just like in her dreams. So why was he being such a bastard?

“This is the worst fantasy I’ve ever had.”

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THE CONQUEROR - Kensington/Zebra ~ Kris Kennedy

The bench thumped forward. “You’re hurt.” He ran a finger over the bruise on her shoulder, a soldier’s swift appraisal. A ripple of goosebumps sped under his hand. He froze.

She was blushing a pale shade of pink. Dark, wet hair hung in tangled locks across the red linen and her white shoulder, creating a startling contrast in colors. The combination of such an ethereal face and the sudden, innocent desire dawning there made him snatch his hand back as if burned.

“I’ll tend it when you’re done,” he said roughly.

She ducked her head and muttered some inaudible reply. She could have said Stephen’s army was marching for the inn and he wouldn’t have heard. Such a hard, hot pounding hadn’t surged through him in many a year.

“What did you say?” he asked, dimly aware she’d been speaking.

“I said, I did not expect such a thing as all this from my night.” She waved her hand. “Did you?”

He groaned audibly. This would never do. She could be swathed in sacks and buried under a haystack and it would not help. Already the image of her stretched out beneath him, black hair streaming over the pillows, was more vivid than the whole past year of his life.

“Nay, I never expected such a thing as you.”

She smiled faintly. “Fools, I think we agreed.”

“Without sense.”

“Entirely.”

He drew back, leveled his tone. “I would have you regain yours, ere something happens you’ll be sorry for.”

She paused, and he had a momentary thought he might escape unscathed. That she would do the prudent thing, save him from this rampaging desire. But her next words smashed the faint hope. “Sense is only one way to know a thing, Pagan,” she whispered. “I’m sure we could find another.”

In a single move he was up, around the table, pulling her to her feet.

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MASTERING THE MARQUESS - Kensington/Zebra ~ Vanessa Kelly

Meredith jerked back, more stung by his words than she could have imagined. She drew herself up to her full height.

“Lord Silverton, I’m sure I do not deserve your insults. If you’re not willing to discuss this matter in a rational fashion, then I must ask you to leave my room. We can continue this conversation when we have both returned to London.”

The anger in his eyes slowly transmuted into something else. Meredith felt a warning chill shoot up her spine as his lips parted in a slow smile—the one that always made her knees grow so weak. She forced herself to move away from him, but he matched her step for step.

“As a matter of fact, Meredith, I’m not feeling rational at all. And I would like to point out this is my house, not yours. I have no intention of going anywhere.”

“My lord,” Meredith quavered. She swallowed, taking one more stab at fending him off. “When your mother and I spoke this morning …”

Silverton laughed. The unexpected, husky sound caused her heart to beat erratically against her breastbone.

“My sweet, there are two words no man wants to hear when he is about to make love to his woman, and they are, your mother!”

“But I’m not your woman,” she protested.

“After last night you are most certainly my woman.”

He advanced toward her with a dangerous gleam in his eye. Meredith retreated again, but he continued to stalk her across the room until she found herself backed against the wall. He quickly pinned her by placing his hands on either side of her shoulders as he pressed his lower body against her. With a sense of shock, she registered the heavy length of his arousal through her nightclothes.

“I’m not letting you go, so you might as well get used to it,” he said.

~*~*~

**For longer excerpts, click on the covers.

So are you hooked? Let me know.

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