So, it's time for another contest.
Since it's getting close to Valentine's Day, I thought it would be great fun to have a bit of hotness here on the blog.
All you have to do is post 250-300 words of a swoon-worthy scene (please not too graphic) below in the comment section then we will put it up to a vote. This can be first kiss, a hot romantic scene, maybe just an electrifying touch.
When the contest closes, I will separate the posts into entries so that you can vote.
Whoever gets the most votes...wins.
Up for grabs...
1st prize winner--$15 B&N or Amazon GC.
2nd prize winner--$10 B&N or Amazon GC.
Rules:
1) Post a 250 to 300 word excerpt of a romantic scene from your manuscript
2) If you post, then you are promising to come back and vote for your favorite. Now the catch: you have to tell the writer why it is your favorite. (That's the learning part of the exercise--writing is a non-ending road of learning.)
2.1) You cannot vote for your own.
3) You have to be a follower of my blog.
4) Have fun!!!!!
Dates to know:
February 1st to February 7th: Post your excerpt.
February 8th to February 13th: Vote for your favorite. Please wait for the announcement to vote.
February 14th: Winner announced.
If there are any questions please leave them in the comment section and I will answer them to the best of my ability.
Hugs to you all and good luck!
Aw...great idea and perfect timing! I'll spread the word for you. :)
ReplyDeleteSounds fun!
ReplyDeleteYAY! Can't wait to read all the entries.
ReplyDeleteCan I go first? First draft, but who cares, right? Enjoy.
As soon as Shanna said goodbye and shut the front door behind her, my lips found Dani’s in what was meant to be a brief welcome back.
Her returning heat was electric as she dug her mouth into mine, none too gently. It was the kind of instant sensuality that only came with the familiarity of being together for six years.
Her fingers dug into my arms as her mouth moved to my neck, her teeth grazing lightly on my shoulder.
I took her face in both of my hands, stilling her for a moment.
“Dani, honey, you just got back. We don’t have to do this.”
She let out a small, guttural noise that was so desperate my body shook in a quick shiver. I kissed her lips, the side of her cheeks, moving to her ears and neck as she let out a quiet moan.
Apparently not appeased with my slow movements, she pushed me back on the couch, putting a leg on either side of me and she sat on my lap. Again, her movements were desperate and practiced at the same time – placing my hands exactly where she wanted them to be.
As she pulled the muddy blouse up over her head, my hands found her wrists, stopping her again. There were dark purple bruises on her upper arms, on her wrists, a few red patches on her chest where they’d kept the wiring.
“Sweetheart, please. You probably need some sleep. Some pain killers. Something.”
She draped her arms around my neck, giving me a coy smile.
“I need you, Tate. So please,” another kiss on my lips. “Stop.” She lifted the bottom of my shirt up and put her lips lightly on the skin right above my jeans. “Talking.”
I obliged, gladly.
Yeah for kissing scenes. :) Happy early Valentines Day!
ReplyDeleteThis looks like fun. Will spread the word too
ReplyDeleteI'll go in on this: 'Bloodstone' excerpt:
ReplyDeleteShe peeked up at the man who’d kept her from making an utter fool of herself and bit her bottom lip as heat invaded her body.
Kaige held on to Ebony’s waist and walked her back until she felt the cool wall unyielding behind her. He let go and placed a hand on either side effectively trapping Ebony between the wall and himself. She held her breath as his solid body crushed against hers. A yearning filled her center between her legs. She had no idea what the feeling could be, but she ached for it to release. She inhaled a sharp breath. His gaze smoldered in the shadows between them as they darted back and forth from her eyes to her lips and then he leaned his face in toward hers. Her heart hammered. She resisted the urge to push up against him. She closed her eyes unable to watch. Kaige’s lips brushed lightly against hers. A sigh escaped her lips.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the night you found me in your bed.” His whispered words roved over the sensitive flesh of her lips. Hot, sweet, words. A feeling Ebony never wanted to end.
Ebony arched her back and neck to meet him, but their lips didn’t quite touch. It was as if he were teasing her on purpose, keeping both their desires at bay. She felt the soft exhale, the hovering presence of his lips not even an inch away. She wanted to pull him closer but dared not move any further.
This is from a WIP I hope to be working on again soon. It' a fe words over 500. (I also think I might've posted this somewhere before...):
ReplyDelete“Your cut’s worse, and I don’t want you bleeding on my only shirt when you kiss me.”
“Your only shirt?” I can’t stop myself from tugging on the hemline and brushing her skin. I pull her closer, just a few inches of air between us. My heart rate ratchets up a notch. Kiss her? That’s the stuff of dreams, not dirty no-tell motels. Still, the temptation…her curves, her lips… “Who says I’m going to kiss you?”
“Me.”
Smiling and peeking at me through her eyelashes, Zoe crouches to fish through the cabinet beneath my butt for the first aid kit. Her fingers slide across my knee when she puts the case on the counter. Her hip, and the cotton of my shirt, brush the inside of my thigh when she turns back to me. God, sitting here and not pulling her to me is going to stop my heart—again.
“This is going to sting,” she says, and pats an alcohol soaked pad over the cut on my shoulder. I suck in a sharp breath, but that’s all.
“So…” I look into her eyes and fight the magnetic pull between us. “You wouldn’t feed me in the hospital when I was broken and bandaged, but you’ll play in my blood?”
“Zain?” Her eyelids dip, giving her a dreamy expression, but her voice is alive with fire.
“Yeah?”
She presses the gauze pad to my cut, and I can’t help but wince.
“Shut up.”
I snap my lips closed. We’re inches apart and I want her too bad to touch her. Zoe’s free hand rides up my thigh to the hem of my boxers, then skims the fabric and slides up my stomach and chest to my cheek. She’s so close all I see are her eyes, and I feel her breath on my lips. The distance, the closeness, is too much and not enough. I lift one hand from its tight grip on the countertop, and rest it on the curve of her waist, my last two fingers touching bare skin.
Her eyelids close in a slow fall. The tension in her hand increases as she pulls my face to her.
The first gentle brush of her lips is a feather-light electric shock. She inhales through her nose, and abandons my cheek to bury her fingers in my hair. I slide my hand up her back and my butt off the counter, too. We’re a tangle of arms and legs and hands that don’t know where to rest in a dingy bathroom, and the moment couldn’t be more glorious. I’m kissing Zoe Morgan!
The gauze falls to the floor when Zoe throws her other arm around me. The soft press of her breasts against my chest is enough to make me want to hold my breath, and Zoe to me forever.
Then, all too soon it’s over. We break apart at the same moment, both of us breathing hard. I twist a finger in the hem of my T-shirt where it brushes her hips, and she licks her bottom lip, red and little puffy from kissing me.
I chose this scene because it was just so much fun to write! And because it was a moment where my main character is finally a bit honest and their feelings come to light.
ReplyDelete“Coop,” I said slowly. “Why’d you kiss me?”
I studied his face, the way his lips parted. “Why? Did you like it?” He smirked.
“Yes.”
His eyes widened. Had I actually shocked him?
I don’t know why but I had. Somehow the room felt hotter. I caught those golden eyes of his. Felt him come closer, like a moth to a flame.
He took another step. I could feel him. It was like a heat radiated off of him, made me want him. I reached out a hand. His skin singed under my touch. God, I wanted him.
“Coop,” I whispered, the words barely escaped before his burning lips pressed against mine. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to. All I wanted in that moment was him. His lips found my neck, fiery kisses that left me wanting more and more. The backs of my legs pressed against the edge of the bed. I was on it a second later, Coop on top of me, but I barely registered. My shirt was up and over my head. Heat surged inside me. A desire I couldn’t quench. Coop’s shirt was off now, tossed in a corner. His hard muscles felt like fire beneath my icy fingers.
Someone rapt against the door. Just like that the fire in me died, like someone had just thrown water onto it.
“Alex, honey,” my mother said through the door. “Sam is here to see you.” Ice washed over me. I blinked, Coop’s eyes were bronze. I was topless. Crap. Least I wasn’t braless.
Ooh...hotness pic!!
ReplyDeleteThis is from my second novel that should be out in July. This is the morning of the MC(s) wedding.
ReplyDelete“Lyris,” he said as she stood and faced him, “you look wonderful.” She looked down and blushed. He loved that her emotions were displayed in her pale skin.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked leaning in for a kiss.
“It’s definitely more comfortable then a cot,” he said, he wouldn’t tell her of the nightmare he had, he knew that she was in it—that much he remembered. “I have a gift for you, I want you to open it now because you might want it later. He brushed her face with his hand. “Please sit down and close your eyes.” She did as he asked and he retrieved the box and laid it in her lap and sat next to her. “Open your eyes,” he said and she opened them.
She looked down and then looked back at him. Her eyes dilated and he smiled.
“Open it.” he whispered.
She pulled at the silver paper to reveal a dark cherry wood box. The clasp was brushed steel. She opened it with trembling fingers. Nestled in black silk lay a white sword. The sheath was white lacquer, the handle wrapped in white, a beaded tassel hung from the pommel. The hand guard was calla lilies carved in brushed steel like the clasp on the box. She looked at him and then back at the sword. She pulled it out and a length of white silk unrolled from the top of the sheath.
“There’s more,” he said. She pushed at the hand guard with her thumb and unsheathed the blade. She gasped, “Lyris and Noble Standing, April 25, 2093” was etched on the brushed steel blade. She turned the blade over, “Forever” was etched on the other side. She replaced the blade and laid it to her side, for a second he wondered if she liked it until she leaped into his arms and hugged him tight enough to squeeze the air out of him.
“No sword master should be without her blade even on her wedding day,” he said.
This is MY kind of romance. A little violent and faced with a hard choice...
ReplyDeleteI looked down the barrel of my glock and positioned a vital corner of his chest in my sights. I had a small window of opportunity to get the shot right. Too far south and I’d hit his heart, to my left was his lung and to the right was a major artery. In other words, there was a reason why my hands were shaking and sweat was making my finger slip on the trigger. One false move and he was toast. Dead toast.
There was something about this man with his warm, trusting honey brown eyes, teasing smirk and the way he reached into my heart and screwed around with my normally sane sense of judgment. He messed with my head in a way that messed with my gun performance and that wasn’t good. I needed to shoot him. In fact, it was imperative.
If I cared much, much less for the man, pulling the trigger might have been easier. However, I wouldn’t know if that was a true statement. After all, how could I shoot an innocent man? Much less, pull the trigger on him knowing I was deeply, madly and irrationally in love with him?
Maybe I should back up and explain that...
My current WIP- the next book in my Just Breathe series...
ReplyDeleteClass drones on forever. With every minute that passes I am more and more uncomfortable. I know he's going to corner me after class. I just don't know what I'm going to say. I steal another glance his way, this time his eyes have a softness in them, and that familiar flutter roams through my belly. I look straight ahead. Why in the world can't I get my life together?
The bell rings. I get up and gather my things, noticing the whole time that Alex is standing there waiting on me. Maybe if I drag it out and make him late, he'll leave without me. Fat chance, he probably doesn't even like high school or need it for that matter. I pull my backpack over my shoulder but he stops me and effortlessly grabs the strap placing it on his arm next to his bag. Ugh, now I definitely can't run. I look over and he gestures for me to walk in front of him.
Once we're in the hall I feel his hand under my elbow guiding me out the doors toward the parking lot. My heart speeds up at his touch. We pass many of my friends but they don't give us a second thought. I wonder if this is it. Will he demand I go right back to the sea? That thought hurts a little, I don't think I'm ready to go back.
His hand stays under my arm steering us to a black pickup truck, a few rows from the door. Once we're next to the truck he drops our bags, turns me so my back is against the truck, resting his hands above my shoulders against the black metal.
He lets out a deep breath as if he's been holding it in, "Ever, don't do that to me again." His voice is pained at the last word. I glance into his eyes, so much hurt. Without thinking, my hand goes up and rests on his cheek. He leans in so that his lips are an inch from mine. I close my eyes, knowing this is wrong but needing to feel something. His breath hitches but he doesn't move any closer. I open my eyes and he's still right there. I close the gap. My lips graze his gently. A feeling rises up like none I've felt. Not the intense need or tingle I feel with Jack. A soothing feeling, a calmness that I welcome. His lips explore mine. It lasts only a few seconds and he pulls away searching my eyes. My head screams at me, Ever this is wrong, what are you thinking?
Here's one from my current YA WIP, MEDITATION:
ReplyDeleteTurning to face me, he moves his head down so we’re almost touching. “I still say you get closer to me during horror movies.”
My lips twitch at the challenge in his voice, and I lean forward, pressing my forehead to his. “I still say I hate horror movies, and making me watch something I hate is mean.”
“That’s me, the big meanie pants,” he says, his voice low.
I nod, moving my mouth closer to his. In a breath, his lips are on mine. I lift my hands, one going to his neck and tangling in his hair, the other reaching under his arm to his strong back. Our mouths move together, and his hands tighten on my shoulders.
He feels so good I lose all sense of time. My hand flexes on his back, gripping the muscles moving under it. He moans, and moves me, flipping my legs over his and laying me back onto the couch.
The angle changes the kiss, makes it deeper, more urgent. It’s my turn to moan as he leans over me, one arm holding his weight off me. The other hand caresses my face, then slides down my body, stopping at my waist.
My breath hitches as his hand caresses the skin at the edge of my jeans. He slowly raises his hand under my shirt, making small circles on my stomach, then my ribcage. The anticipation makes my heart pound. He finally reaches my chest, softly grasping me.
We moan together, and then we’re both just hands, and lips, and bodies. Brian breathes my name, and my stomach clenches. I run my hands under his shirt, wanting to touch all of him.
A door slams.
“Bree? I’m home!”
Mom. Shit.