Favorite Lines Friday: February 17, 2017

You’re a writer. You’re awesome. Share your favorite lines from your novel here.


*Open to published and unpublished writers*
This is a positive place for writers! A place where you can show off your writing!

In the comments, post some of your favorite lines from your work-in-progress or a book you have published. Feel free to drop in a buy link too! Encourage your friends to stop by.

*Even if you don’t enter your own words, please comment on your favorite submission! Positive words are food to a writer’s soul!


*In order to participate in Favorite Lines Friday, please follow the rules…

1. Sign up for my NEWSLETTER.
2. Keep your favorite lines to under four hundred words.
3. Keep things PG rated. Or mostly PG.
4. You can submit twice if you’d like.
5. Share this post. Feel free to use the handy Click-to-Tweet link below.

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Abbie Roads writes dark emotional novels featuring damaged characters, but always gives her hero and heroine a happy ending… after torturing them for three hundred pages. RACE THE DARKNESS and HUNT THE DAWN are available now! SAVING MERCY is available for pre-order.

RACE THE DARKNESS

HUNT THE DAWN

SAVING MERCY

About the author: abbieroads

3 comments to “Favorite Lines Friday: February 17, 2017”

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  1. Diana Reep - Feb 18, 2017 Reply

    From Kiss’d, a romantic time travel adventure.

    Sylvie points into the distance where trees cluster at the edge of the gardens. “I paint what I see there.”
    “Do you see fairies in the trees?”
    “In the trees and in the garden too—near the pond.” She carefully places her paint brush on its stand, sits back in her chair, and turns to me.
    My breath stops. My chest tightens. She’s looking intently at me, and her light blue eyes have turned so dark they look almost black. I wonder if she’s dangerous—if she has fits—if I need to call someone.
    “You’re not really here, are you?” Sylvie whispers.
    “Of course, I’m here.”
    “No, I can see through you, so I know you’re not truly with me.” She rubs her forehead. “You’re somewhere else, somewhere very far away.”

  2. Kathleen Bylsma - Feb 17, 2017 Reply

    Holy Cow! Funny and sexy at the same time! Thanks, Annie! ” all skyscraper” snicker!

  3. abbieroads - Feb 17, 2017 Reply

    From SAVING MERCY: http://hyperurl.co/SMAm1227

    She grabbed in one good breath, then tossed off again. “You know there aren’t many people to talk to in here.” She turned her voice down to a whisper. “Everyone’s crazy. I mean really crazy. Certifiable. It’s hard to carry on a rational conversation with someone who keeps talking to the demon that lives in their ankle. You ever have that happen? Where you’re talking to someone and all of sudden they lift their foot up in front of their face and start having a conversation with it? It’s a bit off putting, if you know what I mean.”

    Her expression was full on seriousness, and he probably shouldn’t laugh—definitely he shouldn’t—but couldn’t help it.

    A smile—no, it wasn’t quite a smile—tipped the corners of her mouth, giving her a look that said she was thinking about something pleasing.

    “We’ve hit a new phase of your withdrawals. Speed talking.”

    “Oh, my. Your voice. Wow. It reminds me of dark chocolate, a hot bath, and sex and—”

    “Apparently your mental filter is malfunctioning.”

    “—sweaty, dirty, hard fucking.”

    Holy Christ. Just the words sex, sweaty, and dirty had his dick going all skyscraper inside his jeans, but when she said hard fucking—he blacked out for a moment. When his mind came back online it decided to flash him images of what sweaty, dirty, hard fucking would look like with her. Her nipples brushing against his chest as he rammed into her with a pace and depth and exuberance he’d never experienced.

    He needed to change the subject, but couldn’t remember how to get his mouth to form words. He might’ve swallowed his damned tongue.

    “Why do you suppose your voice sounds like sex on a summer day? It’s because I’m horny. I haven’t had sex in five years. That’s a long time you know. I have needs.”

    He finally figured out how to flap his lips, while making sound to form actual words. Maybe he’d had a stroke. “Jesus Christ woman.” The words exploded out of him. “You’ve got to stop talking about sex.” He scrubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to wipe out the mental images that still played. “You’re speaking every single thought that floats into your mind. No goddamned censor. It’s gotta be the meds or the shock treatments causing it. Something.”

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