Is anyone really reading blogs on the 4th of July? This is one of those holidays people are out and about...on the lake, camping, having droves of friends and family over for barbecue, and heading to that one place you can see the best fireworks.
But if you are spending a little time on the computer and looking for a blog that doesn't tax your mind too much, I thought I'd throw out some one liners (or two) from my books that speak to a different kind of fireworks.
My books are about much more than fireworks, but I combed through and found a few for this 4th of July Muse Monday.
The Art of Love and Murder
1) She climbed on behind him, settled her legs along side his. He adjusted his position, pushing back against her ever so slightly. She fidgeted against the leather seat, low-slung tremors made her smile. Her hands rested at the junction of his hips and legs as the engine roared to life. The hum vibrated through her, she hugged her legs against his hips and her hands felt the taut muscles along his sides as they pulled onto Route 66.
2) “My kind of early morning woman.” He moaned as she took him in without comment.
She fell forward and rocked, her mouth next to his ear. “Shh!” she whispered. “Don’t talk, Sheriff, you might wake me up.”
1) “Have you ever done it on the saddle?” Her cobalt blue eyes sparkled in spite of her pallor.
“Jesus, Phoebe.” He gripped her bottom tighter. If ever he’d had a fantasy, she’d hit on the one.
“No.” His voice rasped and he cleared his throat. “Not yet.”
2) “I’m not sure how being a woman-starved cowpoke and smelling like his horse would make a man more virile.” He rubbed his chin and feigned a serious expression. “I can tell you this naked rancher is pretty damn full of raw nature…” He flipped the corner of the blanket off his hips. “And he’d be happy to demonstrate his stamina to a certain bohemian author. Several times over.”
1) The pause was long enough to see the deep brown of her eyes with a curious green rim and to feel the warmth of the hot-blooded American woman whose body brushed his as she passed.
When she lifted her chin higher, bringing her lips to his, the message her kiss sent matched the desire he’d been fighting.
2) The door closed. The kiss grew intense, and she had the sensation of being tasted. She was dessert.
Sleeping with the Lights On
1) “Sandra, when a gal’s figure fills in the spaces to make it a woman’s
The Morning After
2) The mere touch from him was so lethal he may as well have been walking his fingertips up my legs and under my skirt, dancing across my panties, causing me to squeeze my thighs together in defense or arousal or both.
1) A moan. The man rolled to his back, kicking off covers. Abigail gasped. Her gentleman visitor wore only a bow tie and black socks.
2) The heat of his body mapped the identical heat of hers. Her breasts tingled with the contact, and she rubbed against him to spike the sensation.
Now, go enjoy some fireworks!