Thanks for stopping by to spend a few minutes of your Sunday with me. Your comments and thoughts are greatly appreciated.
This week’s contribution comes from my WIP, Swashbuckler. It’s about 3/4 of the way through the story and Rachel has arrived at the hospital.
“Yes? Can I help you?” the nurse asked Rachel when she finally reached the intensive care unit. Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. Instead, tears began to drip from her eyes. Without missing a beat, the petite nurse pulled tissue from the box sitting on the counter and handed it to her. She didn’t tell Rachel to stop crying or tell her that everything was going to be alright. She just waited.
Confession time. . . Ever had a fantasy involving a hot firefighter? You know the kind I’m talking about–the strong, sexy, barely-tamable type? I’ve had a little fantasy going on in my head staring a hunky firefighter that frequents the Peets coffee next to my work.
And today, my fantasy merged with my real world.
I ran into these three delectables at the store.
I swear!
I had just finished reading Dating 911 by Kathleen Grieve. It’s a hot romance involving a sexy, guilt-plagued, redeemable firefighter (who is a fabulous lover, of course) and a drop-dead gorgeous, plays-hard-to-get nurse. Story is believable, the sex is fabulous, and it’s definitely worth the read!
And yes, I’d bought the book last week because of said Fireman at Peets. I figured that if I couldn’t have the real deal, I could at least read about it.
So, today I finish the book in the last ten minutes of work, drive home (different neighborhood), walk into Safeway. . . .and guess who I run into?
^**^grin^**^
There’s my firefighter with two of his buds. He stops me, talks to me. His buds smile and talk to me too. And I just about melt into the floor as I’m standing there, the focus of these three gorgeous men, all of whom have beautiful, deep dark blue eyes. Turns out they’re renting a house about two blocks away from mine.
OK, so they had their shirts on and they weren’t covered in soot. Didn’t matter one whit because I was in heaven! Amazingly I didn’t blush (too much), I didn’t stutter, I didn’t grin like a village idiot, and I was the one to break off the conversation.
On the other hand, nothing I said came remotely close to flirting.
I love it when I manifest coincidences in my life, when fantasy becomes reality. Even if the reality quickly spins back to fantasy, at least it sets my heart a-pumpin’ and gives me a story to tell!
A friend suggested a very yummy Tuesday Treat–Tahmoh Penikett. It must have been fate because the man has green eyes, as does Rodger, the hero in my WIP. I’d just spent an evening gazing into Rodger’s green peepers as he (very successfully) seduced Rachel.
Look into my eyes. . . . .
I’m definitely living out a fantasy here with Tahmoh as I’ve never dated a man with green eyes. . .maybe one day I will. Sigh.
Tahmoh (pronounced Tah Moe) is a 36 year-old, 6′ 3″ Canadian of British and aboriginal Canadian descent (the White River First Nation in the Yukon). He played Helo, a popular character on Battlestar Galactica. He also starred in Dollhouse for two seasons (2009-2010).
From the pieces I’ve read, he sounds like a well-grounded, health-conscious hotty. According to a fan blog, he’s a gold medalist in muay thai, a kind of combat sport from Thailand that is sometimes referred to as the “Art of Eight Limbs”. So, not only is he gorgeous to look at, he could protect you, too. Recently he starred in the movie Jabberwock on the SyFy Channel, and on November 29th, Innocent will be aired on the TNT Network (no idea what’s that about, but I’ll be setting my DVR just because of those green eyes).
I have been a fan of the band Blue October for about five years. It all started on a date with a man whose name I don’t remember (it might have been Carlos). He played the song ‘Into the Ocean’ as we drove up to Lake Tahoe for a day of sledding. Loved the sound-it was upbeat, happy, light. I remembered the name of the group-blue is my favorite color, October my favorite month. As it happens, the ocean is my favorite place. Sample their music here.
Arriving home that night, I downloaded the CD, Foiled, and I listened to the lyrics. Dark. Depressing. A juxtaposition from the sound of the music. I listened to the sounds, blocking out the lyrics I did not understand.
A year or so later, I was depressed. Severely so. As I drove around town, on the freeway between Concord and Berkeley, I found myself asking: would it really matter if I were to run into the concrete divider? Could I dare myself to drive off the steep embankment? I’d never consciously kill myself, I had a daughter after all, but would I ask for chemotherapy if cancer was discovered in my body? No. Death would be a sweet release.
And then I heard ‘Hate Me’ by Blue October come up on my playlist. Lyrics of addiction, thoughts of suicide, begging loved ones to hate so that he could be released from guilt.
Tears streamed down my face as I realized there was someone out there who understood. Someone else who had felt the same dark messages looping through my head. I was not alone. And I was hooked.
For the next few years, every time I felt the insidious deep space of alone, I’d listen to Blue October. And I survived.
On September 16, 2011, I saw Blue October play at the Regency Ballroom in San Francisco. They played songs from three different albums: Foiled (2009), Blue Skies (released 2010), and Any Man In America (2011). Their latest album is the heaviest, most angry of the three, as many of the songs are about the pain of divorce from a man’s perspective. I can’t relate. But I am such a fan that I try to understand the perspective of the other sex, admiring the audacity to slam the woman who has made life miserable for the lead singer (Justin).
The poetic raw emotion of the lyrics made me a fan of Blue October–honest reflection of the experience of the heart and mind, regardless of whether it was polite conversation in society. This holds true for the new album. Even though I can’t relate to the experience, I can admire the truth of the person telling the story.
They still have US concert dates for Rochester, Boston, Charlotte, Atlanta, and New Orleans; international dates for Germany, Switzerland, The Netherlands, The United Kingdom, and Australia. Don’t miss them!
Following from last week, I’ve skipped ahead to the next day to get Rodger’s take on running into Rachel at the restaurant. I hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for the comments and feedback.
His souvenir from the night before, a hangover that pierced his eyes and thundered in his head, finally retreated by the end of lunch. Serves me right for drinking instead of getting laid. He’d had it all planned out: a sexy woman, a night out on the town in San Jose, a bit of dancing.
For several hours and for several drinks, Rodger had given it the good ol’ college try–he’d tried to focus on the blond beauty at his side–but her features kept morphing into Rachel’s, and her high-pitched voice had begun to grate.
And then there she was, standing in the last place he’d expected to see her, the one woman he was trying to forget. After barely touching Rachel’s curves, after tasting those lips (it’d been impossible for him to resist going in for that kiss), he’d no desire, no libido, to follow through with his blonde date—she was nothing compared to the only woman he wanted.
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