Misty Saturday mornings and new projects

There's something wonderful about Saturday mornings in the country. The quiet world seems to move at a slower pace. We're under some cloud cover and my woods are green and misty. I stood on my patio and listened as drops of water fell from leaf to leaf and finally to the ground. A pheasant called to an unresponsive mate then he, too, fell silent. Finally, a soft rustling reached my ears as my black cat decided it was safe to leave his post as defender of the jungle and come in for a nap.

I love Saturday mornings. It's prime writing time for me. I have to drag my sorry butt out of bed Monday-Friday to go to my day job, but on Saturday, I can hop out of the rack at five a.m., ready to write. The bulk of my body of work has been written on Saturday mornings. Loving Luke is no exception.

Now I'm on a new project. Or is a new, old project? I had the idea for this story a long time ago, but other stories somehow got in the way. All I know is the words to this story are finally flowing onto the page and this time I won't allow another man to distract me with his story.

Well, I'm going to try not to let him distract me. It is the weekend, after all.

Rayne

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An excerpt from Loving Luke:


Chere’s tongue flicked across his lips. Luke answered, laving her lips with his, nibbling on her full, pouty lower lip that had begged his attention all evening. His balls drew up. He hardened in three quick jolts of pure, lusty anticipation. She pressed closer and he slid one hand down to cup her bottom. She jumped as he pushed her against the French door, pinning her. The kiss deepened. She took all he gave her and offered up her desire in return.

Luke pulled away. She looked up at him and blinked.

“Maybe we should sit down and finish our wine.”

She blinked again. “Maybe we should go over to the sofa where it’s more comfortable. They say you shouldn’t stand at a window during a thunderstorm.”

He shook his head. “Lightning has already struck here and I’m still breathing.”

She rolled her eyes. “My, how you do go on.” She pulled his head down and kissed him lightly then slipped out of his embrace. “I’m going to the sofa and kick off my shoes…Oh!”

Lightning cracked! Thunder boomed and the room plunged into blackness. He looked out the window to find half of Morrisville suddenly dark.

“Are you okay?” He did love the way girls let out those little shrieks upon occasion. It was just so… girly. “Do you have any candles?”

“I’m fine, honest. It just startled me.” She motioned for him to sit on the couch. “Sit there and don’t blunder about and break anything while I get a couple votives.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He dropped onto the sofa, stretched out his legs, leaned his head back and tried to relax while trying to convince himself to behave when she sat down beside him.

They were going to keep all four feet on the floor. He’d keep his hands polite and not slide that pretty skirt up and find out just how soft her inner thighs might be.
He wasn’t going to lay her back and kiss every inch of her he could reach. He just wasn’t going to that. He didn’t care if his balls turned blue and his cock ached worse than healing gum surgery. He would be a gentleman, damn it, right after he adjusted his bits while she couldn’t see him with his hand down his jeans.

Chere walked slowly back into the room carrying two lit votives in amber colored holders which she set on the coffee table.

“This should be enough light to see by so we can finish our wine. I guess you really are stuck here for a while. The elevators won’t be working with the power out.”

“The emergency lighting will be on in the stairwell if you throw me out.”

“Out is not where I’m throwing you.”

She planted her hands on his shoulders and pushed him over onto the cushions and stretched out on top of him.

Thank heavens.

LOVING LUKE - now avaiable at New Concepts Publishing

Rayne Forrest
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