Slow Write… Take it Easy…

Yes, its a horrible reference to that horrible Foghat song.  But right now… its true.  I’ve never been what one would consider a fast writer.  I hear other writers talking about their double-digit word counts in a day and I feel like a slacker.  And I know I do things while I write that I probably shouldn’t do.  Anyone who is my facebook friend can always tell when I’m distracted during a writing session.  I end up spending hours commenting on others’ posts, being clever and reading other people’s blog posts.  Yesterday it got so bad that I was crawling youtube looking for ridiculous video clips and posting them to my wall.  On the upside, I did manage to add 1,000 words to my current work in progress.  But despite my slacking on facebook, I think I’ve discovered why it takes me so long to get the words out.  Other than the things I’ve already mentioned.  I’m an obsessive wordsmith.  I can’t bring myself just to slap down words without thinking about how they sound.  I read every sentence over to make sure that the words flow together.  Its always been my feeling that writing should be pleasing to read as well as rich with plot and characterization.  Therefore, I spend a lot of time making sure that it “sounds right.”  But then of course, there’s the blogging and stuff that I find myself falling into as well…

That being said, I’m going to shut up and go off to work now.  However, I thought I’d give you a little excerpt of my new release, Second Skin that’s going to be arriving on the internets on August 20th.  For those of you that didn’t read my SSS post on Sunday, Second Skin is the story of a woman who meets the man of her dreams at a party and then realizes that she’ll do anything to keep him.  Its about hot sex and obsessive love– two of my favorite things….


He carried me swiftly over the wet sand to the outcropping of rocks at the Point, usually hidden by the crashing of the high tides.  How fitting that he should lay me upon this place that most of the time was covered by the sea.  Our secret little place where all evidenceand guilt would be washed away by the undertow.  I whimpered, apprehensive about the jagged edges of the rocks against my back, but they were amazingly smooth and cool against my overheated skin.  He looked back towards the house to be certain that we were alone before he knelt over my reclined body.  His movements were fluid as he opened the
small pearl button just over my bellybutton, and then leaned over to kiss the exposed flesh.  My whole body quivered
with lust and apprehension.  He opened my shirt, nosing under the fabric and kissing every bit of skin as he revealed it
inch by agonizing inch.  When he reached my breasts, they felt swollen, trapped painfully in the imposing satin and lace.  There was a hungry look in his eye as he stared down at me and I wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss me or devour me.  Feeling self-conscious, I slid my hands across my breasts, hiding them in my hands.   He made a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan and took my wrists, pulling my hands away from my chest and pinning them at my sides.  “Never hide your body from me, A grá.”

I started to respond, but the words blurred into a moan as his mouth closed over the curve of my breast.  Using the tip of his tongue, he traced warm, wet patterns over the pale skin and I could feel my nipples, beading almost painfully as he lapped at them like a hungry beast devouring its prey.  I wanted to stretch, to force more of my breast into his mouth, but he
held me so tightly, his fingertips squeezing the tiny bones of my wrist until I felt bruised—marked.  The thought made me
shudder and I moaned again.  I wanted him to mark me for his own.

As if hearing my thoughts, he bit down on my hardened nipple through the lace of my bra.  I cried out, not in pain, but in absolute pleasure.  He lingered for a while there, tearing at the thin fabric with his teeth, then releasing my wrists so that he
could use his hand to pull the fiendish undergarment aside and take both breasts in his hands.  His thumbs played
lightly over the puckered centers and I panted, struggling with control.  “You’re so beautiful, mo chroí. I want to consume every little bit of you.”  With a mischievous wink, he closed his mouth over the areola, swirling his tongue around it slowly.  I let out a soft groan, cradling his head against my chest.  His teeth scraped the pale skin as he suckled, gently at first, then more insistent.  His fingertips trilled across my chest, wandering to the other breast and cupping it firmly.

“What are you?” I murmured softly, placing my hand over his and guiding it to squeeze and rub at my breast.  My words trailed off into an incoherent moan when he rolled my nipple between his fingers, then tugged until it stood out
painfully.  He was like something out of the most heated of dreams.  Every caress and kiss, whisper and moan was the most potent aphrodisiac.

“I think you know,” he whispered, his lips capturing the hardened bud between them and worrying it gently with
his teeth. “You told me the story yourself.”

“It was just a story,” I moaned.  “An old wives’ tale—”

“Was it?” he slurred, burying the tip of his nose in the furrow between my breasts and lapping slowly with his tongue.  “So many stories have kernels of truth.”  He traced a path of warm kisses from the base of my throat to the gentle slope of my belly and lingered there.  His breath was hot against my skin as he breathed slowly, feathering kisses here and there.  I felt his hands slide behind my back and I lifted my hips involuntarily.  He grasped the button at the back of my skirt and pulled it open with deft fingers.  Again my mind screamed for me to stop him.  I tried to think of Alex, but my desire wouldn’t be deterred.  I knew that I had to go through with this or risk a lifetime of regret.  He pulled my body towards him, lifting my pelvis off of the rock just enough for him to use his free hand to pull the unforgiving fabric of my skirt down over my generous hips, taking every stitch of clothing with it and laying me bare before his eyes.  He made a sound between a moan and growl and I watched as his eyes traveled over every inch of my body, as if counting each pore.


So what do you think?  Worth the wait???


2 thoughts on “Slow Write… Take it Easy…

  1. Nice post. I was checking continuously this blog and I am impressed! Extremely useful info specially the last part 🙂 I care for such information much. I was looking for this certain info for a very long time. Thank you and good luck.


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