If you're here looking for Shelly's poetry blogfest, it's the post below!
Romantic Friday Writers set a new themed challenge every week, and romance writers who love to stretch their writing muscles take up the challenge for a Friday post. Sometimes the cameos presented by members of RFW are real tear-jerkers, sometimes light-hearted, at other times dark and dangerous!
What might their offerings contain this week - sensual sweet, slightly steamy or scary sexy? As you can see from the image, this Friday's theme is Surrender.
You don't have to be a member to participate, but it would be nice if you decide to join with us on the good ship Romancer.
I've chosen a snippet from my English Civil War epic for today's theme Surrender.
It's a tad steamy, or not: as maybe the case for some. After all, what one person thinks of as a tad erotic another will think of as pure smut. ;)
Brief: Anna Lady Maitcliffe, and Morton Lord Gantry have recent been engaged in a pleasurable if sexy romp within a woodland glade: post swim in pool beneath waterfall.
Morton suddenly disturbed her daydream. ‘Anna, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
She tilted her head sideways, taking in the profile of his face, his slumber like pose all too innocent, replied, ‘I cannot be sure that I am ready for marriage.’
He slid his arm from around her, and sat up straight, one knee instantly drawn up to rest his arm upon it. ‘What nonsense is this now, Anna?’ He turned to look down at her, his eyes searching hers, demanding explanation. ‘What possible reason is there to suggest yourself unready for marriage?’
She propped herself up on one elbow and toyed with a blade of grass: eyes quickly downcast to avoid his questioning gaze. Having never felt so liberated as today, she gloried in her own nakedness and tore the blade of grass free from its root and reached out to drag it across Morton’s thigh, and thence to her own thigh. She savoured the sensuality as she stroked her skin with the blade of grass, quite aware his eyes fallen to rest on her tantalising gesture. Amused by his sudden interest, she dragged the green strand upward and across her furry mound.
‘Anna, as much as it excites me to witness your teasing ploy you have not explained why you are against becoming my wife.’
‘Must you make consideration of marriage, such a tiresome business’ she challenged, well aware how frustrating and infuriating her reluctant stance must sound to him.
‘You were wont to wed my father soon enough, and that alone confirms you are not too young to be wed,’ he said, strong grip suddenly applied to her hand, which he promptly edged closer to her delta, the blade of grass teasing the senses. ‘You say you love me, and therefore I cannot see where objection to becoming my wife fits with our present state of undress.’
She laughed, looked him in the eye, and said, ‘Unhand me your lordship, I feel you take too many liberties with my person. I will not surrender so easily this time.’
‘Too many liberties, eh?’ he said, his tone commanding. He roared with laughter, caught up her hand in his and rapidly engaged her freehand and forced both above her head in one vicelike grip, her body trapped beneath him. ‘You feel I take too many liberties, then let me take another.’
To see entries by other participants, go here.