My Sexy Saturday

Small gestures are sometimes as sexy as big ones, and just as meaningful.  In this snippet from a work in progress, a little hand holding causes some major fireworks...especially since they're breaking all the "rules". 

     I felt his hand next to mine again. The skin of our hands touching again, I couldn’t breathe, and this time I knew that it wasn’t an accident.  I could still hear the music, barely.  The skin on the side of my hand was so painfully aware of his that everyone in the entire theatre had to know, I was sure of it.  I felt like a police helicopter spotlight was right on us. 

     His fingers lifted. 

     It’s over.

     But no, his fingers lifted, and his hand turned towards mine.  Ever so softly his fingers slid down the side of my hand.  Once, then again.  I was motionless, my eyes closed.  If someone had seen me they would have thought it was the music that enraptured me. 

     His fingers lightly stroked the back of my hand, and then closed over it.  It was excruciating.  I felt silly as a school girl for being so swept up in something as simple as a touch!

     I breathed in and out, purposefully, and looked around.  Everyone still seemed blissfully unaware of our secret.  I slowly turned my hand palm up, as best as I could at that angle, feeling his skin move along mine as I did.  His fingers laced within mine, and as the soprano reached the crescendo, he gripped my hand a little firmer that I had expected, but I wasn’t complaining.  The song ended, and the standing ovation had already begun by the time we finally released ourselves back to the present. 

http://www.minack.com/

     My Sexy Saturday ( http://www.mysexysaturday.blogspot.com/ ) is a place for authors to showcase snippets of their sexy works with 7 words, 7 sentences, or 7 paragraphs.
 

My Sexy Saturday

     Hello all!  Yes, I’ve missed a few weeks of “My Sexy Saturday”.  Real life got in the way for awhile, but now I’m back…and with good news!  I have a manuscript for a novella that has been accepted at a publishing house, and is due to be released in February 2014!  This week’s snippet is from that manuscript…so it’s super hush-hush/top-secret stuff. 

     “Come live with me.”

     I leaned back, the stunned look on my face probably said more than any words could have.

     “Come stay with me for awhile.  A few weeks, maybe,” he implored.

     Not live with you?  Freudian slip much?  “In Flagstaff?”  It was the only place that I knew of him living, and it sounded fine.

     He smiled.  “No.  Somewhere else.”

     I wrinkled my brow again.  Stop confusing me.

     “I’ve been busy.  I have a new house.”

     My Sexy Saturday ( http://www.mysexysaturday.blogspot.com/ ) is a place for authors to showcase snippets of their sexy works with 7 words, 7 sentences, or 7 paragraphs.

 

My Sexy Saturday

My Sexy Saturday ( http://www.mysexysaturday.blogspot.com/ ) provides a great place for authors to showcase snippets of their work in 7 words, 7 sentences, or 7 paragraphs.  Discover some new authors to follow!

This week's snippet is from my WIP "Under the Granite Lies".  The set up is that J (who is a  werewolf), has just killed his father (who was also a werewolf, and a very evil one at that).  In the aftermath, J has taken Lauren, whom is in his protective care, to the African savannah to hide out with him for a few months while the dust settles.

     He leaned close to me, and pointed to it from my line of sight. 
 
     “The great hunter, Orion, and his dog next to him,” he said then relaxed back in his camp chair, reaching his hand down to scratch Charlie’s enormous feline head as the lion snoozed at his feet. 

     “Where did you learn about the stars?” I asked. 

     “My father.  Orion was his middle name.  Claus Orion Hildegard.  When I was a boy, he would show Orion to me, with his dog, Sirius, next to him and tell me I was his dog.  He said that I would always be in his shadow, that I would never be as good as him.”  He unscrewed his flask and took another long sip.  A log in the campfire popped, and Charlie's  left front paw twitched.

     I said nothing.  I felt sympathy wash over me as I remembered that J had killed his father only a few short days before.  Claus was an awful, evil man, but he was also his father.  He was his only blood family.

     J continued for some time, regaling me with stories of his upbringing, and purging bad memories of abuse and neglect.  As the evening wore on, each layer away peeled like an onion until he finally lowered his head, entirely spent.  A log split in two, sending embers racing skywards to Orion like small phoenixes.

     I thought it best to let him have some peace, so I stood to leave and caressed his shoulder as I passed.  His head still lowered, he reached for my hand and held it tightly.  I paused, then turned and bent down, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders and pressing a kiss into his hair.  I laid my head on his shoulder and breathed in the scent from his neck. He smelled of a combination of musk and campfire.

     “Lauren,” he said, moving his hand to my head and braiding his fingers through my hair.

 

Questions...?

If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book? 

I believe that all writers are perfectionists, and some of them, like me, are perfectionists to a fault.  I probably would not change the story line, but I would tweak all of the words endlessly if there weren’t such animals as deadlines.