Kiss Me in the Rain

It was a beautiful day…to start. The sky azure, the brilliant sunlight made the dew covered grass sparkle like a field of precious gems. So dazzling, so lush, so Spring! It was a perfect day for a first date.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turning away from the window, Ava told herself that the dawning of an idyllic day did not necessarily portend a good date. Ethan had suggested an outside meeting place, though, so you never know. She towel dried her hair, and opened the closet. What the hell should she wear?

A few hours later, she met him at the park. He smiled, his eye sweeping over her. She’d decided on a cotton sundress. It was warm enough for that. Ethan was wearing a pair of nicely fitting jeans, and tee – Ava had no idea what band it was.

She returned his smile, a bit nervous now. She didn’t like dating. It was such an awkward ritual. He’d seemed so nice, when she’d met him, accidentally, at the bookstore. They’d struck up a conversation about an author they both enjoyed. Ava hadn’t realized she was flirting until he asked for her number. She’d only hesitated for a minute. She never followed through with any of the matches on the dating app she used. Why not try this unexpected face-to-face connection. He was smart and funny, and he read. That was more than she could say about most guys.

“Shall we walk?”

“Sure,” Ava said. Serene hiking trails, that’s what the website had said. “I’ve never been to this park. Do you have a trail picked out?”

They walked, side by side, making the appropriate comments about the gloriousness of the day, and how refreshing spring was, after the dismal months of winter. Ethan was a student, studying agriculture. Ava wondered what he would think if he knew her age. She was old enough to be, well, considerably older than she suspected he was.

As they ambled along, stopping to look when there was something to see, the clouds began to roll in. She looked up when the wind began to whip her hair into her face.

“Rain was not forecast,” she said.

Ethan looked up at the now roiling sky. “No. It wasn’t,” he said.

He stood in the middle of the path, as other hikers scurried by in a mad rush to the parking lot. They were a good 45 minutes in to their walk. Ava had no illusion that they were going to outpace the imminent downpour.

“Charge, or retreat?” she asked.

He took her hand, and pulled her off the beaten path, under some trees with large branches as big, thick drops of rain began to fall. The branches provided some cover, until the deluge was released from above. They were soon soaked.

Ava laughed, then shivered. The wind had picked up, and it sent a chill through her. She glanced at Ethan. His tee-shirt clung to his body, accentuating his muscular frame. She found that most pleasant to gaze at. He looked at her then, and when she saw his eyes narrow, it occurred to her that her dress must be clinging similarly to her. She blushed.

He reached out, his strong arms encircling her waist, and pulling her into his embrace. She tilted her head to look up at him as her arms found their way around his broad shoulders. The rain was cold, but his lips were warm. The level of heat increased as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, and not only where their mouths met. His hands slipped from her waist to her ass, and he pulled her against him. She thrust her hips forward, and could feel that this rain kiss was turning him on, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He moved a hand up to caress her breast. She could feel the warmth through her flimsy cotton dress and bra. Her nipples were already stiff because of the cold rain, but now they responded to his touch.

“Oh, baby,” he said, his lips moving from her mouth to her neck, his hot breath on her cold flesh causing her body to shudder with desire. He unbuttoned her dress, and slid a hand into her bra. He returned to kissing her lips, and she moaned when he pinched her stiff nipple. He backed her against the trunk of the tree, pressing his crotch into her.

Ava didn’t know how long they kissed, in this unexpected spring shower. It was over though, as quickly as it had begun. The sun returned, and the clouds dispersed. They drew away from each other, and she adjusted her bra, and rebuttoned her top.

They walked back to the parking lot.

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They simply took up residence

I had been hard at work on a sequel to my first novel when something unexpected  happened.  A new couple, Claire and Aaron, dropped in to my imagination, and demanded that their story be told. They were quite insistent, and I could not convince them to wait their turn.

So, I veered onto another road – a quiet a cul-de-sac in a distinctly upper class neighborhood in Ann Arbor. Claire and Aaron Delecroix live in a beautiful house on the tree-lined street. It seems they have everything – love, success, family and friends.

Claire is a middle-aged woman, and she loves her much younger husband passionately and deeply. Aaron returns her love with steady devotion and tender regard – he wants only for her to be happy. A perfect couple …

Yet it seems that things are not as idyllic in the Delecroix home as they appear on the surface. What happens there, when the curtains are drawn? What drives Claire to seek fulfillment elsewhere?

black-dress

I was compelled to find out, as Claire refused be silenced. I wrote everything down as I followed her through a byzantine labyrinth of love and betrayal, lies and broken promises, and ultimately, redemption, and a triumph of sorts, of the heart.

Release date TBA.

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It was so real …

Like many authors, I have a day job.  And a teenager.  And a life.

So, I write when I can.  A couple of hours in the evening, as much as I can on weekends.  Scribbling notes furiously at lunchtime.  Sitting in the customer lounge, waiting while my car is serviced…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oops! I said my car! My car is being serviced! (Perk of being a writer: you can let your thoughts take you anywhere …anywhere.)

This past week, I did something different. I took the entire week off specifically to work on my current novel. There was some procrastinating, but mostly, I worked diligently. I had a complete draft at the beginning of the week, and wanted to spend the time editing.

It was an enlightening experience. I’ve never been able to spend such a large amount of time with my characters all at once. Immersing myself in their story, so deeply, and without interruption proved intoxicating! I fell asleep in my story at night, and woke up with my characters in the morning. It reminded me of the clear and unfettered imagination of my youth.

This is what it must be like to be a full-time writer! Days spent watching the story you created as it unfolds. Arguing with your characters when they won’t do or say what you want them to. Feeling their joy and their hurt as you lovingly guide them on their journey. I’m so sorry, Claire, that I made you weep so much!

Today is “back to reality,” and I feel as if I’m waking from a dream. I did not know I was still capable of being so deeply absorbed in the fantasies of my own mind. And while I don’t mind too much that I need to wash clothes and dishes, and run to the grocery store, I feel just slightly despondent, because I don’t know if the same Claire and Aaron will greet me when next I sit down at my desk to type. Will we still be as intimate as we have been the past week?

I hope so! Claire still needs to navigate the labyrinth of shame and guilt she is trapped in, and I’m pretty sure only I can help her. And Aaron? Well, who wouldn’t want to come home to him?

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One Night (A Fantasy)

A light scent of lavender wafted up when she opened the drawer. She sunk her hands into the soft, silky jumble, smiling, running her fingers pantiesover her array of lingerie. She was looking for something specific, something skimpy, and sexy, and soft – a pair of black lace panties, that, when she put them on, would hug her ass snugly, and outline her lips – provocatively, not blatantly. She spotted what she was looking for and fished the panties out.

“Perfect!” she thought, bending to slip them on. She straightened, and pulled them up, turning to preen in front of the mirror. She frowned, wishing she still had the body of her youth, not that she’d appreciated it when she had it. She shook her head and shrugged. It would simply have to do. She returned her attention to the lingerie drawer.

What should she wear? He liked sexy underclothes, but getting undressed was an important element tonight. She shivered with anticipation, thinking of him fumbling with the zipper on her pants, and became decidedly damp when she imagined him pulling them down.

“Careful, girly,” she said to herself. “You’re going to have to change underwear if you keep thinking like that.” She looked at all the pretty silk. “Why not both?” she thought, and picked out a lacy red teddy. It was nylon, not silk, but it stretched and clung to her body, and accentuated her tits. He’d like that, she was sure of it. So she slipped it on. She grabbed her jeans and shimmied into them, tucking the teddy in.

This was not a bad look, just like that, she thought. But no, she wanted him to undress her. She riffled through her blouses. Unbutton, or pull off? She couldn’t decide. Her favorite floral chiffon top caught her eye. It did have buttons, but could be slipped easily over her head, as well. She’d wear that one, and let him decide.

She neatened up the room, and went to the kitchen. She opened a bottle of wine, not sure if, or when, they might drink it, but he had once intimated that he would enjoy licking wine off her breasts, so she figured it was best to be prepared.

She looked at the clock. Less than an hour. She was so excited, she couldn’t stay still. He was coming this time, surely he was. He had promised. He wasn’t going to disappoint her again. He wanted this as much as she did. Didn’t he?

She checked her makeup, and brushed her long auburn hair yet again. She was so nervous! Why? She’d done this before. It was because tonight it was him. The man who, through design, or chance, had managed to tap her deepest desires. She had wanted him for so long. And tonight! Tonight, she would finally feel his touch, hear his voice, taste his kisses.

lipsShe realized her hands were shaking. She reapplied her dark, vibrant lipstick. The sun had set, so she made sure there was soft lighting in the bedroom, and in the front room. She didn’t want any harsh light to start off with. He was younger than she, and despite having entertained younger men before with no complaint, she was still self-conscious about her age.

Her heart skipped when she heard his car in the drive.  “Oh, god,” she said, trying to catch her breath, putting her hand to her chest, as though it would still her fluttering heart. When he knocked, she walked to the door. She stood perfectly still for one second before taking a deep breath, and opening it.

Her eyes widened with pleasure as her gaze swept over him, taking in his height – he was tall, she loved that! It was cold outside, so he was wearing a coat, but she got a sense of his body, the jeans that hung just right on his narrow hips.

“Hi,” she said, smiling. “Come in.” He walked through the door, and dropped his bag. They stood there, and she stayed still as his eyes now raked over her. She willed herself not to give the “What do you think?” questioning shrug.

“You came,” she said breathlessly, and stepped close to him.

“I did,” he responded, and reached out, pulling her to him. Her arms snaked up around his shoulders and she turned her face up to him.

“I’m so glad,” she whispered just before she felt his lips on hers. It was the kiss she had dreamed of …

kiss

 

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The Internet is SO Shiny! The Uneasy Author/Internet Relationship

The author/internet relationship is never easy.

As a writer, I love the Internet. There is no better tool for researching even the most minute of details. I needed a timeline of cell phone development – when did they become commonplace? When did texting become the most prevalent form of communication? At what point did a camera become standard on a smartphone? When did phones become smart?phone

The novel I am working on now scans decades, and It was only a couple chapters in that I recalled cell phones were not widely used prior to the 90s, and texting and connectivity came even later. A quick Google search returned a number of results that gave me the details I needed.  Did you know that the Nokia 3510, released in 2001, had a functional calendar, and an FM radio? Très cool …

It is so convenient to be able to find the menu of a particular restaurant, an exotic vacation destination, or the name of an interior design technique without ever leaving your desk. You are already at your computer, because it is here that a writer works. It allows you to keep the rhythm of your writing while not requiring a come back to this notation. “1978,” you can type with confidence, “was the year of the Great Blizzard.”

On the other hand …

As a writer, I hate the Internet. It is so damn shiny! It is so easy to be distracted from the task at hand. So many ways to veer off track and waste some time! There is social media (FacebookTwitterPinterestInstagram and more!), news, videos, cooking sites, travel sites, history, humor, pictures, shopping, books, discussion forums from a-z, pages with lists of links to things you never even knew you wanted to look at, and CATS! So many cats!phembly

And all that is before you’ve even opened the file containing your current project!

Even when you are really working you can be so easily sidetracked! For instance, for this article, I found myself scanning articles and looking at old pictures of the snowstorm that paralyzed Michigan in 1978. That was a helluva storm! Or when researching cell phones, I read about the Motorola Razr, and remembered when I had one, I hacked it so I could use my own ringtone … which led to finding the song, which reminded me of another song … and next thing I know, I’ve spent 45 minutes listening to old songs I love on youtube.

While it’s true I do get a giggle out of telling people that part of my job is scrolling through endless picture of hot guys, this can be a serious pitfall. Go to the Adobe stock photography site, and do a search for “sexy man” You’ll see what I mean! I don’t consider that time wasted, by any means, as marketing is part of our job, and a romance writer needs pictures, but certainly it can be a distraction (albeit a super pleasant one).

So what is the solution? I do not know. Most days, I can put my blinders on, and stay focused. Other days, I strike an acceptable balance.

Then there are the days I am so completely distracted, I wonder if I should be writing a retro sci-fi story about what the Great Blizzard of ’78 would have been like if hot guys had cell phones back then …

melting snow, hot kiss
melting snow, hot kiss

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Resolution for the New Year

Write something every day. Every single day! Whether a chapter, or a blog post, an article for my newsletter, or a guest post somewhere.  Twitter posts and Facebook updates do not count. The criteria will be meaningful content that moves my current projects along.

I’ve become so lazy! I will do better in 2017. Plan for the year:

everyday

I still have a week to get started with my new habit …

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all!