My martini loving (okay that’s me), darkly romantic curmudgeon (that’s her) and all around talented author friend, Claire Gillian, double-dog dared me with a new meme today!
Never one to back down from a challenge – I pushed my Command + F buttons, typed “look” and peeked through my fingers. Whew. Only three true “LOOKs” in my 5K shorty but there were two in one paragraph! Yikes! *edit* I did have a couple of “LOOKEDs” and “LOOKINGs” so I guess they count.
Here are the three I’ll admit to from The Train Ride, a short and sexy holiday story.
To give you just a little info on the excerpts…they’re on a train (hence the title), the 1st and 3rd paragraphs are in heroine’s POV (Alexis and Dahlia are same person) and the middle paragraph is from the hero’s POV. Enjoy!
A deep breath captured the hint of pine, musk and pure man. Her eyes washed over an obvious well-toned body wrapped handsomely in a dark suit and a power tie. He had the look of a financial market tycoon, or perhaps a commercial real estate broker, or maybe a movie producer. Unabashedly, she watched as he unbuttoned his jacket, shrugged it off his shoulders and hung it over the seat on the other side of the aisle. His shirt hugged the contours of muscular shoulders and draped over the strong planes of his back. She tilted her head and scored the perfect eye level view of the exact place where the soft fabric of his suit pants molded perfectly around his backside. Yes, he was a fine specimen of man. She couldn’t help a quick sideways glance to the spot right below his belt when he turned to take his seat.
His semi-aroused state heightened when he glimpsed at the magazine article’s title. Nothing turned him on more than a woman who wasn’t afraid of going after what she wanted, and Dahlia was definitely looking for a little adventure. But like every hunt, much of the satisfaction was in the journey. A stolen glance found her absentmindedly twirling a lock of her black hair around her index finger and releasing it back to its pin straight form. Her red nails grazed the collar of her blouse then reached into the valley between her breasts to retrieve a gold charm. As she pulled the pendent from its cozy home, yet another pearl unfastened from its buttonhole. His breath caught as his gaze fixated on the hint of lace from beneath her shirt. The rhythmic rocking of the train only increased the pressure of his growing cock against the zipper. He gulped and turned the page of his newspaper, focusing his attention on an article about the abysmal state of the stock market.
“Merry Christmas, Tristan,” she said. Turning on her heels, she continued walking until she reached the cabin door. When she turned back around to get one last look, he was gone.
Hope you enjoyed the little “look” inside my WIP!
Now for the next round of
victims, er, nominees…