I thought, in honor of this special day, I'd show you how some of the heroes and heroines in my stories managed to get that much sought after First Kiss. I've also interspersed some Valentine Day trivia to entertain you. Enjoy!
The ancient Romans celebrated the Feast of Lupercalia on February 14th in honor of Juno, the queen of the Roman gods and goddesses. Juno was also the goddess of women and marriage.
In the following, it's clear that a sense of humor helps a guy get a kiss....
First Kiss, Keriam and Eric, Heartstone
He canted a sideways peek at Keriam and caught her disgusted look. A look that could have meant anything, he reflected. He decided silence would serve him best. On the heels of that decision, he asked, "Am I ugly?"
She rolled her eyes upward. "No."
"Boring?" Watching her more closely, he thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch upward as she shook her head. Going on instinct, he put an air of anxiety in his voice and asked, "Do I smell funny?"
"Now that you mention it..." she drawled, a smile softening the line of her mouth until she chuckled.
"Liar." He pulled her into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers. Stiff at first, she slowly melded to him, her lips becoming soft and warm. He slanted his mouth on hers for better access, then traced her lips with his tongue. When her mouth opened, when her tongue met then danced with his, when her arms wrapped around his neck, all the hunger he felt for Keriam crashed through him like a hit of lightning.
He dropped his hand to her firm buttocks and pressed her intimately close. Her soft moan echoed through his blood like thunder. He slid a hand under her shirt, reveling in the warm satin touch of her flesh. Drawing his hand forward, he cupped her breast, thumbing her nipple through the fabric of her undergarment. Unbidden, a soft growl purred in his throat.
She tasted sweet. And warm. And so uniquely Keriam he thought he would die of it.
She tasted sweet. And warm. And so uniquely Keriam he thought he would die of it.
Many believe the 'X' symbol became synonymous with the kiss in medieval times. People who couldn't write their names signed in front of a witness with an 'X.' The 'X' was then kissed to show their sincerity.
And if the lady doesn't believe you want to kiss her, gently show her she's wrong.
First Kiss...Liane and Devyn, Altered Destiny
She made a breathless sound. “Don’t be silly. You don’t want to kiss me.”
“Silly?” One hand drifted up her arm to encircle the supple column of her neck while the other settled on her waist. He leaned forward, slowly, letting his body brush hers. Desire rippled over him and he lowered his head until her warm breath danced over his skin. His lips met hers, slowly, smoothly, until she softened beneath him. Then he kissed her in earnest. Her lips were sweet and her reluctance soon vanished as he pulled her closer, pressing her against his body, chest to hip to thigh. Her hands settled on his waist, holding him close, as a low moan vibrated in her throat. Her warmth filled him. Her taste satisfied him yet made him hunger for more. His blood roared in his ears and it was all he could do to pull back, to release her. He nodded, slowly. “Aye, silly.”In the Middle Ages, young men and women drew names from a bowl to see who would be their Valentine. They would wear this name pinned onto their sleeves for one week for everyone to see. This was the origin of the expression "to wear your heart on your sleeve."Then, of course, if you hurt yourself, you can let her exercise her instincts to help.
First Kiss, Tara and Trace, Rider (Not yet available)
Trace followed, watched her pull a tube of ointment from the tray. He leaned over her shoulder to study the table's contents as Tara ripped the tube open. The boxes on the table appeared to contain a variety of fine gold wire, beads and bangles and he wondered what she used those for.
Tara turned, almost butting her nose against his chest. "Damn it, Zie. Keep an eye on him." Then she added, "Yeah, right. Sorry."
He meant to step back. Instead, he pulled her forward. His lips slammed into hers. One fractional moment of resistance from the woman in his arms was followed by immediate surrender.
Fire. Kissing Tara Rowan was like living fire, magical fire that heated his body but didn't burn. Magical fire that warmed him, filled him, made him want more. More... He tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Her response was all he could have wished for. She parted her lips and he took immediate advantage to taste her.
Sweet. Creator, she tasted sweet. His tongue brushed the warm, slick recesses of her mouth, toyed with the edges of her teeth, dueled with her and let her win. She slid between his lips and he thought he stopped breathing. He didn't care. He wanted...more.
Every Valentine's Day, the Italian city of Verona, where Shakespeare's lovers Romeo and Juliet lived, receives about 1,000 letters addressed to Juliet.
If you're a mad scientist like Chris, who values the unorthodox and surprising, you can ask the cute but often tongue-tied, cleaning lady out for coffee.
First Kiss, Norma Jean and Chris, Dusty Attractors (Not yet available)"Do you drink coffee?" he asked. "Would you go with me to Biondo's? They're open 24 hours."
"Biondo's?" Her voice squeaked in surprise. Of course, he'd want her reaction for his report. Of course he wasn't asking her for a date. "I-I guess. Sure."
"Good." He grinned, then headed to his door.
Norma Jean stooped to pick up the wire and foil as the security guard continued on his rounds. She looked up when grass and dirt stained covered athletic shoes, denim pants and labcoat appeared in front of her.
"Mrphump fraginsack drula kompay?" Chris pulled her to her feet. There was hope in his eyes and a tentative smile flickered across his face.
She remembered the conversation from the bubbleverse. Did this mean --? Did he think of her as a woman, not just a friend, not just a companion on an incredible adventure? "Kompay drula fraginsack."
He kissed her. Not like a brother. Not like a friend. Like a lover. When he lifted his head, he gave her a pleased grin. "I'll drive."
The red rose was the favorite flower of Venus, the Roman goddess of love.Not a kiss this time, but sometimes a good brawl shows the mettle of your companion.
Fight Scene, Cassie and Tryggr, Heart of a Dragon
"Get out of this, sister," an ogre-man growled. Cassie gave him a contemptuous look and pushed Tryggr behind her.
"Six to one? Think that's enough?" She sneered.
"Cassie." Tryggr warned. She shrugged his hand away.
"Well, come on," she challenged them, holding her fisted hands up. "Me and Trigger can take you."
The nearest man tried to brush Cassie aside. His startled oof cut off, abruptly, when she landed her second blow. He fell like deadwood. The melee started in earnest then. Fists and feet flying, ducking and dodging, solid whacks from the ogre-weapons, the dull thumps of flesh striking flesh. During it all, Tryggr tried to keep Cassie safe but the human-woman, quick as a viper, landed blows with deadly abandon.
"Trigger! He's getting away!"
Tryggr looked up in time to see Herb running toward the field. Then he staggered under a heavy blow. The landscape whirled around him as he turned back to his opponent. He raised his fists defensively. The man's eyes stretched wide, rolled upward and he fell. Cassie stood behind him holding a length of pipe. She grinned. She winked. She was having fun. Tryggr shook his head, dazedly, as the woman-sized dynamo leaped after one of the men. Magnificent!
"The only thing we never get enough of is love; and the only thing we never give enough of is love."
Henry Miller (1891-1980), American novelist and painter
Truer words were never spoken. I wish all of you much love today and always. -- Lynda
"Get out of this, sister," an ogre-man growled. Cassie gave him a contemptuous look and pushed Tryggr behind her.
"Six to one? Think that's enough?" She sneered.
"Cassie." Tryggr warned. She shrugged his hand away.
"Well, come on," she challenged them, holding her fisted hands up. "Me and Trigger can take you."
The nearest man tried to brush Cassie aside. His startled oof cut off, abruptly, when she landed her second blow. He fell like deadwood. The melee started in earnest then. Fists and feet flying, ducking and dodging, solid whacks from the ogre-weapons, the dull thumps of flesh striking flesh. During it all, Tryggr tried to keep Cassie safe but the human-woman, quick as a viper, landed blows with deadly abandon.
"Trigger! He's getting away!"
Tryggr looked up in time to see Herb running toward the field. Then he staggered under a heavy blow. The landscape whirled around him as he turned back to his opponent. He raised his fists defensively. The man's eyes stretched wide, rolled upward and he fell. Cassie stood behind him holding a length of pipe. She grinned. She winked. She was having fun. Tryggr shook his head, dazedly, as the woman-sized dynamo leaped after one of the men. Magnificent!
The oldest surviving love poem till date is written in a clay tablet from the times of the Sumerians, inventors of writing, around 3500 B.CAnd this last bit of trivia just shows that the human race has recognized love and its importance for as long as we've been human.
"The only thing we never get enough of is love; and the only thing we never give enough of is love."
Henry Miller (1891-1980), American novelist and painter
Truer words were never spoken. I wish all of you much love today and always. -- Lynda
