I won’t complain about how hot is is here (still!), because there’s no end to it in the extended forecast I saw this morning. Instead, I’ve been thinking about places and times where and when it’s been cooler than it is now. I won’t post a picture of our one snowstorm from this past winter, but I did consider it.
It was definitely cool (downright cold at some points) when I went to Scotland back in early spring of 2002. One day on Orkney, we had snow, rain, sun, and 70 mph winds, and all of us had ‘Orkney hair’, especially some of the women in our group who had really long hair. But it was my favorite spot in the whole trip, because it was the day we went to the Ring of Brodgar. On one side of the hill, the sun was shining, but in the opposite direction, it was still cloudy and dark. Absolutely gorgeous. I hope to get back there one of these days.
The stone circle was amazing, and inspired one of the scenes in Hunting Medusa. Orkney was spectacular, but that really was my favorite place.
Another wonderful, chilly day was when my crit partners and I went to the beach in March for a writing retreat. It was not very nice out (what do you expect in March?), so we had spent a big chunk of the day writing, and we were getting ready to go out for dinner but wanted to at least see the beach , I did take my shoes off to walk the beach, even though it was March, and, boy, was the water cold!
I may have to break out the snow pictures tomorrow, though, if my husband doesn’t get the air conditioning working again. It just quit a few hours ago, and I am not looking forward to the next few days if it isn’t functional. Weather like this calls for frozen drinks, like the giant frozen margaritas we used to get at Chi-chi’s (anyone else remember those?). Or freeze pops. Lots and lots of freeze pops.
This makes me very glad that the story I’m working on is set in the winter. My tiger shifter hero can go out into the snow pretty soon like this guy…
( Photo credit: Tambako the Jaguar via Foter.com / CC BY-ND ).
So, while I’m thinking about my tiger shifter, maybeI ought to share a tiny snippet of his story.
Someone brushed against her shoulder, and Vivi turned to see a man settling onto the stool beside her.
“Sorry,” he said, glancing over, then away.
Then his pale blue gaze swung back to her face, and she couldn’t look away.
Even though she couldn’t pull her gaze away from his sky-blue eyes, she still noticed his rumpled white-blond hair brushed back from his face, the sharp angles of his cheekbones, and the width of his shoulders beneath a red polo shirt.
Vivi swallowed and dragged her gaze away finally. It landed on her drink, and she picked it up, taking a sip to wet her dry lips.
She needed to get away before her hormones got any happier. She put the glass down on the bar and sat back in her seat.
“Don’t let me chase you away,” the blonde said, his voice a low rumble that made her stomach clench.
She glanced toward him, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re not. I’ve just had a long day, and it’s time to go.”
“Without any supper?” He turned on his stool a little to face her.
Oh Gods. Vivi couldn’t help the flush burning her cheeks. The red shirt stretched over a broad, muscled chest, and it took her a few seconds to force her gaze up to his.
At least his mouth wasn’t curved in a smirk. Though if he’d been smirking or appeared as if he knew exactly what was going on in her head, she’d have found it easier to get off of the stool. “I didn’t actually come in for supper, just a drink with a friend.” She inched to her right.
“Have dinner with me.”
She froze. “What makes you think I’d be a good dinner companion?” she asked after a second.
His mouth relaxed a little, as if he might be on the verge of a smile. “Just a hunch. I’m sure you’re a far better dinner companion than I am. Sorry I bothered you.” He picked up his glass and took a sip of the golden liquid in it.
Vivi studied his profile for a few moments. There was something familiar about it. And something very appealing about him, aside from the face. Especially that, aside from not pushing her to stay, there was something lonely about him. “You know, telling a woman what a terrible date you are isn’t really the right approach. Probably going to bring your success rate down a little.”
He finally smiled, a slow, wide grin that revealed dimples.
Gods, she was a sucker for dimples, dammit.
He met her gaze again and stuck out his right hand. “I’m Boris.”
“Vivi.” She tamped down the little voice in the back of her head shrieking this was a Bad Idea. When his warm fingers wrapped around her hand, she shivered.
“Vivi, would you have dinner with me? You can give me some pointers on how this should work.”
“What the hell.” She was certain she’d regret this later, but it had been a long time…
So, we are into the middle of my birthday month (and there are a couple of family birthdays coming in the next week, too!), and I still have goodies to give away. For some reason, nobody came to play last week.
So I’m going to try something different this week. I’ve been working on Boris for a while, plus he’s been a secondary character for two books already, and I just had a mental image of him, but I found a picture just this morning of a model who is almost perfect for the picture I’ve been working from in my mind–you’ll find that picture over on my Facebook page. So go on over and take a peek and then come back over here and let me know what you think of him. Everybody who does by Friday, Juy 22, 2016 will be entered into a drawing for the goody box above (US residents over 18). I really want to give this box of books and other fun stuff away!
Happy birthday to me, with presents for you!
( Photo credit: Thomás via Foter.com / CC BY )
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