Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Patience Something I’ve always had in short supply.

 My family will tell you I have none, and at times I’m sure they’re right. I like to have things defined for me, with limits and a timetable. I even (gasp!) read the last chapter of a book first to make sure I’ll be satisfied with the ending. Yup, I’m too impatient to read the whole book first.
We all wait for things in our live. We wait for our children to grow up and turn (hopefully) into adults. We wait for progress at work. We wait for our goals to be reached. Certainly writing can try one’s patience, as the author waits for release, waits for reviews, waits to see if anyone will for heaven’s sake by the damn book.
Writing erotic romance demands a lot of patience, something I’ve had to learn. Why? Because you can’t rush good sex. That’s just a fact. To be satisfying and rewarding there must be exquisite and tempting foreplay, long and slow arousal, and even the final culmination of the act should not be rushed. So when I weave the scenes of really good sex I have to force myself to take it slow and not hurry past something really good.
When I wrote Quarterback Sneak I gave my hero a lot more patience than I ever had. He has been in love with his next door neighbor for three years but all she wants is friendship. He watches her hook up with one loser after another, dismayed by her poor choices in men and the lack of opportunity to let her know how he feels. But Valentine’s Day is coming, she needs a hot sexy guy to get her through it, especially at the big corporate party, and he finally sees his opportunity.
He puts together a game plan, just as he does on the football field, only here he’s the only play caller. I tell you, Max has a lot more patience than I ever did as he puts his plan in motion and…Well, see for yourself.
Here’s a little taste for you, the kickoff of The Big Plan.

Oh, and one more word. Patience pays off. Quarterback Sneak just hit the best seller list at All Romance eBooks.

“Knock knock.”

Kurt lounged in her doorway, jacketless, sleeves rolled up, a big grin on his face. Butterflies danced a jitterbug in her stomach as she remembered the last time they’d been naked together.
“Rumor has it you’re the new queen of chocolates.” He chuckled.
She saved her document and turned to face him. “And they are delicious.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think of sending them myself.” His gaze raked over her as if his eyes were undressing her. “New outfit? I like it. Very sexy.”
Oh, my God. Men are so predictable. Max called it. How interesting what a flirty outfit and a mysterious admirer could do to a situation. If she’d shown up in her usual slacks and sweater, without the secret admirer, would he even have known she came to work?
“Thanks.” She gestured at the box. “Have some candy, why don’t you?”
“Won’t your ‘secret admirer’ object to you giving them to another guy?” He used his fingers to gesture air quotes.
“Why?” She deliberately plucked a chocolate from where it nestled in the box and popped it into her mouth. “Is there some reason he should be jealous?”
Kurt unkinked himself from the doorjamb and ambled over to her desk. “There might be. Who is this guy, anyway? How come no one has ever met him? And where was he when you and I were doing the horizontal tango?”
“He was there all the time, a deep voice boomed from behind him.
Kurt’s head whipped around.
Max appeared behind Kurt, a fake smile plastered on his face although a touch of anger flashed in his eyes. “Stacy and I had a little misunderstanding. No biggie. It’s all patched up now. Anyway, she won’t be doing the tango with anyone else anymore. Her dance card is filled.”
Deedee stood in the doorway, eyes wide, face flushed with excitement. “Sorry, Stacy. He said you were expecting him and just breezed on past me.”
“No problem. He’s right. Go on back to your desk.”
Deedee was a statue in the doorway, eying Max like he was a piece of candy in that box.
“Go on, Deedee,” Stacy repeated.
Kurt narrowed his eyes. “Wait, you’re Max Sullivan, right?”
Max put on his professional smile—the one he used when local news interviewed him after a triumph on the field.
“Yes. And you would be?”
“Kurt Macallister.” He reached out a hand. “I never miss a Warriors game. ESPN is still replaying that video of the Hail Mary pass you threw in the game against the Patriots.”
“Yeah, my fifteen minutes of fame,” he joked.
Stacy watched the two men in her tiny office space and smiled to herself. She could almost hear Kurt’s brain burning as he tried to figure out what she was doing with Max Sullivan. Max, on the other hand, behaved pleasant but aloof and looked as if he wished Kurt would get out of there already.
Winking at Stacy, he walked around the other man, lifted her from her chair, and pulled her in tight to his chest. Then, without further warning, he brought his lips down on hers in a kiss that curled her toes and sent moisture flooding her panties. His body was hard against hers. All of him was hard including his rock-hard penis imprinting itself on her flesh through her flirty little skirt.
If he gave a performance, it was a damn good one. So good her wits scattered like leaves in a breeze.
“Well.” Vaguely, Stacy heard someone clearing his throat. “Apparently this isn’t a good time to chat with you.”
She opened her eyes and glanced over Max’s shoulder. Kurt still stood in front of her desk, hands in his pockets, irritation and maybe jealousy lining his face.
Max lifted his mouth from hers. “Yeah, that’s right. Stacy’s leaving for lunch and won’t be back for a while.” He turned his face to Stacy, still holding her close to him. “You ready, sugar?”
Stacy’s mind spun. She barely heard whatever comeback Kurt made, too busy staring at Max through lust-clouded eyes. Lordy, the man was gorgeous. Clad in black slacks and a black V-neck sweater, with a smidgen of sexy chest hair peeking over the ribbing, his outfit practically matched his hair, and the blue in his eyes appeared deeper than ever. He topped it all with an elegant camel colored sport jacket and a smile that came straight from the devil himself.
“Get your purse, Stacy,” he told her. “Time to go.”
“Um,” was all she could manage.
Max took a step back, his sensuous mouth crooked up in a smile. Sensuous mouth? When had she put those two words and Max together?
“Stacy? You ready, sweetheart?” His warm voice wrapped itself around her like an erotic blanket.
“Uh, yes. Let me get my purse.”
Pulling her scrambled brains together, she managed to retrieve her bag from her desk drawer without dropping it.
“She may be late getting back,” he told a dumbfounded Deedee as they sailed into the hallway.



  1. I don't know that this really shows us his patience, Desiree - he seems pretty eager to me! But it's hot, anyway.

    And congratulations on making the ARE best seller list! Whooee!

  2. Seconding the congrats on the ARe bestseller list! :)

    Also, for many years, whenever I picked up a book, the first thing I did was read the last few paragraphs. Not only did it give me a sense of whether I liked the writing (better than reading the first few, often) but I enjoyed building towards them, picking up the clues along the way, knowing where the story led. I broke myself of the habit because it made me feel guilty, but now I'm sort of wishing I hadn't. What made me think there's a wrong way to read a book?

  3. "Scrambled brains," clever phrase. Thanks for posting, Desiree.


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