Saturday #Snippets To the Wind

I'm in the midst of the To the Wind blog tour.  Anton and Lenora have several more stops along the cyber road between now and January third.
Here at home, I'm posting another snippet from the book. In this excerpt, Lenora worries about Cyrus Abercrombie, who will prove troublesome before the journey is over.

“Mr. Abercrombie still troubles me,” Lenora said one eve as we were off the coast of Peru. “The crew is rumbling. It is not pretty what they say.” She sat upon the berth and ran a brush through her hair.

I took the brush from her and attended to the task, happy to touch her silky waves. “The crew’s  rumblings are never pretty, mon  amie. You must away from them.”

“I don’t seek them out, Anton. But it is hard not to hear their complaints in a society small as the one aboard this ship. Maurice told me Abercrombie whipped Tageo.”

I did not hold with whipping, but it was common enough practice. I would be hard pressed to sanction Abercrombie for use of the lash as a means of discipline. “Tageo is a scoundrel. The men say he has been stealing water. You can understand how serious is such an offense.”

“Yes, but—”

I held my fingers to her lips. “I have heard the grumblings, Lenora. I will speak to Abercrombie.” I understood her distaste. I had seen the lash cut down too many good men, both aboard ship and in New Orleans, to embrace its use. And I feared Abercrombie had an appetite for whippings far beyond what might be considered common practice. It troubled me considerably more than I let on to Lenora. Abercrombie knew well I needed him. He gave me his respect only because I was his superior and he feared I might yet throw him into the sea.

 

Mr. Abercrombie still troubles me,” Lenora said one eve as we were off the coast of Peru. “The crew is rumbling. It is not pretty what they say.” She sat upon the berth and ran a brush through her hair.

I took the brush from her and attended to the task, happy to touch her silky waves. “The crew’s  rumblings are never pretty, mon  amie. You must away from them.”

“I don’t seek them out, Anton. But it is hard not to hear their complaints in a society small as the one aboard this ship. Maurice told me Abercrombie whipped Tageo.”

I did not hold with whipping, but it was common enough practice. I would be hard pressed to sanction Abercrombie for use of the lash as a means of discipline. “Tageo is a scoundrel. The men say he has been stealing water. You can understand how serious is such an offense.”

“Yes, but—”

I held my fingers to her lips. “I have heard the grumblings, Lenora. I will speak to Abercrombie.” I understood her distaste. I had seen the lash cut down too many good men, both aboard ship and in New Orleans, to embrace its use. And I feared Abercrombie had an appetite for whippings far beyond what might be considered common practice. It troubled me considerably more than I let on to Lenora. Abercrombie knew well I needed him. He gave me his respect only because I was his superior and he feared I might yet throw him into the sea.

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Mr. Abercrombie still troubles me,” Lenora said one eve as we were off the coast of Peru. “The crew is rumbling. It is not pretty what they say.” She sat upon the berth and ran a brush through her hair.

I took the brush from her and attended to the task, happy to touch her silky waves. “The crew’s  rumblings are never pretty, mon  amie. You must away from them.”

“I don’t seek them out, Anton. But it is hard not to hear their complaints in a society small as the one aboard this ship. Maurice told me Abercrombie whipped Tageo.”

I did not hold with whipping, but it was common enough practice. I would be hard pressed to sanction Abercrombie for use of the lash as a means of discipline. “Tageo is a scoundrel. The men say he has been stealing water. You can understand how serious is such an offense.”

“Yes, but—”

I held my fingers to her lips. “I have heard the grumblings, Lenora. I will speak to Abercrombie.” I understood her distaste. I had seen the lash cut down too many good men, both aboard ship and in New Orleans, to embrace its use. And I feared Abercrombie had an appetite for whippings far beyond what might be considered common practice. It troubled me considerably more than I let on to Lenora. Abercrombie knew well I needed him. He gave me his respect only because I was his superior and he feared I might yet throw him into the sea.

- See more at: http://www.blueroseromance.com/#sthash.AdFswlbr.dpuf

#8Sunday: The P-Town Queen is a RONE nominee!

For more great snippets, click on button.

I was very chuffed, pleased, and generally bowled over to find out the P-Town Queen has been nominated for a RONE award in contemporary romance.

The book is a romantic comedy set in Provincetown, Massachusetts. It's told from two first person points of view; that of the heroine, Nikki and that of the hero, Marco. The two first person structure was a little tricky, as I had to have openings for both characters. Last week, I posted Nikki's first eight lines, which open the book. This week, I give you Marco's first eight lines, which are the first lines of chapter 2:

I’ll never make gnocchi again. Don’t get me wrong, I like a nice
gnocchi and I do it up pretty good, if I do say so myself. With just the right balance of cream and garlic, it’s food for the angels as my Nona would have said. But some foods, they have memories attached, and gnocchi, that’s a memory I’d just as soon forget.

It was me and Angelo Del Rossi in the kitchen at Roma’s. Angie,
he’s this big slow thug of a guy. Jesus and Mary, he didn’t know a paring knife from a carving knife and was not likely to learn anytime soon. I was cooking for my silent partner, Fat Phil Lazario.


For more great Sunday eight, click HERE

For more on The P-Town Queen, including where you can buy your very own copy, click HERE

And, in a little bit of shameless promo;  I would love it if you could stop by and vote for The P-Town Queen in phase two of this contest, where readers vote. You can vote HERE

#8Sunday It doesn't get any better than this, does it?

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This week, my romantic comedy The P-Town Queen was chosen by my publisher, Champagne Books, as their book of the year.  Does it get any better than this????

This week's snippet is the first eight lines of The P-Town Queen:

I did not blow up the Mona Lisa. Not only did I not blow up theMona Lisa—an old leaker of a boat whose blowing up could be construed as a favor to the aptly named Rusty Cook—I did not blow up any part of Rusty’s marina. My brothers will, of course, say otherwise. They had quite
the laugh at my expense over coffee at Ella’s Place.
     Rusty had been on the lookout for a boat for me. It had taken a lot of gumption and crow-eating to get to a place where I could consider buying a boat. I needed a cheap one, because God only knew how much money I’d be able to squeeze out of the Massachusetts Bay Commission via the research
grant proposal I’d spent three long months laboring to produce.The head of the commission was Ned Anderson.

For more great WeWriWa snippets, click HERE

For more about The P-Town Queen, click HERE

#SixSentenceSunday The Whisper of Time

My novella, The Whisper of Time, is coming soon to Whisper's Publishing. This week's six come from the middle of the story:

The kiss was flight. The kind of kiss that had magic I hadn’t known existed. Or maybe it was the kind of kiss that I had known long before but had all but forgotten, like the scent of roses once they’re no longer in bloom.

We came apart, the kiss still fluttering in the air between us, but muted now and then it plunged with a heavy thought. Kyle. What was I going to do about Kyle? 

For more great sixes, stop by at Six Sentence Sunday.