Her
Hero
Loving
Valentine
by Jane Leopold Quinn
I wrote two short
stories early in my career and they're some of the most erotic I've written. In
the recent years, my stories have lightened up, become more mainstream with hot
love scenes. So when I re-read these early stories I was very pleasantly reminded
with how much I loved writing them.
Her
Hero
The second erotic
short I wrote was intended for a Whiskey Creek Press Torrid anthology titled Lust. I was invited to contribute by
Emma Wildes. In that antho, the story was Mercenary
Desires. It was republished by Siren and is now self-pubbed with a new
title and new cover.
The inspiration for
this hot story was something not very "hot" at all. It was winter and
cough medications were advertised on TV. One particular commercial caught my eye.
A unattractive fellow coughed all day long, irritating his co-workers. Someone
offered him a cough drop and poof!,
he turned into a non-coughing hunk. A story popped/poofed! into my head. An ugly, bearded, beat up looking man rescues
a beautiful woman from danger. Hint: he cleans up nicely :-)
Here's the blurb to Her Hero: Rowdy
Pierce-warrior. Sara Stewart-artist. Macho mercenary rescues posh jewelry
designer. Their lives collide in an spectacular rescue and escape across the
Egyptian desert. Sara falls for her sexy, body-to-die-for hero and makes the
first move. Rowdy, fascinated by the luscious, sweet-bodied, free-spirited
woman he saved, takes what Sara offers. He doesn’t expect to lose his heart.
Will their lust turn to something deeper back in the real world?
And an excerpt
Her nails dug into his shoulders,
she opened her mouth to cry out, and suddenly his lips covered hers again. At
first, the short, intense sweeps of his tongue, matched by hers, were a
powerful massage on sensitive lips. Then, they collided in an explosion so hard
their teeth clashed. Passionate, voracious, insatiable emotions became a wild
rush of desperate, frustrated craving.
More,
more!
A tremendous noise battered her
ears.
"Fuck." His guttural
exclamation was short and foul. "Show time, baby," he rumbled in her
ear.
It was the only way to be heard,
the thwapping of the helicopter blades deafened her.
He gave her one final, deep,
penetrating kiss, sipping and nipping at her mouth. "My real name is
Peter."
He brushed a thumb over her lips,
her eyebrows, concentrating his passionate gaze on the separate parts of her
face as if to memorize the whole. An ache, deeply embedded inside her, would
destroy her if she didn't push it back down. If only the helicopter hadn't
come. If only they'd met somewhere else, somewhere civilized. If only this
weren't over.
***
Rowdy's heart felt ripped in two.
There were a hundred things he wanted to say to her, to hear from her, but they'd
run out of time. He allowed himself another final, private look at her
beautiful face and devastating blue eyes before he kissed her for the last
time, touched her eyelids, the tip of her nose, the crest of her cheek bones,
and finally her lips. How could he let her go?
In his business, there was always
another job to do. Time to put her on the helo and move on. He pulled her
through the tent opening and led her toward the military helicopter, just
landed but poised and ready for takeoff at a moment's notice.
No
time left. The ache, snaking and swelling through his body, wasn't just
from his unrequited lust. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He clasped
his arm protectively around her waist as they ran straight into the noise and
dust kicked up by the spinning rotors. Sweeping her into his arms, he tucked
her head against his chest to shield her eyes and almost fell to his knees with
the powerful hunger for the sweet, luscious, quivering woman clinging tightly
to his neck, breathing hotly against his skin.
No
time left. He thrust her into the yawning opening, and as soon as her knees
landed on the metal flooring, she scrabbled like a baby further inside. A
crewman grabbed her under the arms, pushed her into a seat, and buckled a
shoulder harness and seatbelt around her. She was handed a helmet, and before
putting it on, with tears rolling down her cheeks, she met his gaze through the
wide door of the helo.
No,
he mouthed, shook his head. Don't cry.
He should be happy this was over
and that a large amount of money would be deposited into his bank account. She
was grateful, and he'd become too involved. But a healthy jolt of lust
connected them when they touched. Hell, just looking at her turned his balls
molten. He was a mercenary, and she was an artist from Chicago. They were
worlds apart.
Christ,
man. You're an idiot.
The helo rose, hovered. He saw
bewilderment, then panic in her eyes. Her mouth moved. He heard her voice in
his head.
"Thank you, Peter Pierce."
Acting more cocky than he felt, he
tapped his forehead in a mock salute, and mouthed back, "You're welcome,
Sara Stewart." He watched until the helo was out of sight, a long time in
the clear, bright sky. Thoughts of home blindsided him. He'd hated the small
Kansas town he grew up in and couldn't wait to leave, couldn't wait to get out
in the world and do something important. Now he just felt abandoned, as alone
as he'd felt for years. His father died when he was in college, and his mother
lived in a nursing home now. He wondered if he'd ever have a chance at a normal
life. As normal as it could be for a guy who knew ten different ways to kill a
man, and had used them all.
Goodbye,
Sara Stewart. The words lingered in his head for a long time before he
thought to get out of the hot, desert sun.
Her Hero is available for
sale here - http://amzn.com/B00TKXN6KO
###
Bonus!
Loving Valentine was the first short story I ever wrote. A
critique group I was a member of had a challenge on Valentine's Day to write a
snippet based around a red satin, heart shaped pillow. Some of the others wrote
a scene like a couple floating in a canoe down a scenic river, the heroine's
head resting on the satin pillow. I wrote what became the opening scene of Valentine's Day, as it was titled when
first published in 2006.
Excerpt
And that's how Rafe ended up in
Valentine's bed having the best sex of his life.
"Ryan doesn't have to know
anything about this. No one needs to know." Val lay on her back, head
turned toward him.
God, she was spectacular. Rafe had
watched her grow up, had seen her develop. He'd always liked her. Knew she had
a crush on him. What he hadn't known until tonight was how much he must have
always wanted her.
When Rafe and Ryan had gone away to
college, he'd put thoughts of Val on the back burner. Then he'd met and married
Sybil. They tried to make it work, but there was no real passion. She resembled
Val. Maybe that was it.
Rafe put these depressing musings
on another back burner and climbed out of bed.
"Oh."
He turned back to Val. Her eyes
were full of hurt. He couldn't stand to see her like that, like he disappointed
her.
"I'm certainly not going to
tell him, Rafe," she said defensively.
Damn, I'm sorry I mentioned
Ryan. "Let me get rid of this, honey." He'd brushed the condom
off his cock and held the wet mass gingerly in one hand. "Do you have any
more?"
"Yeah."
Oh, Christ. Thank God.
When Rafe returned to the bedroom,
he was treated to the sight of Valentine lying naked with a box of condoms
balanced on her belly. "Oh, baby, you are the answer to a guy's
prayers," he groaned the words as he plucked the box off, put it on the
bedside table, and drew one out.
Before he could make his move, Val
sat up, her expression intent, straddled his waist, and pushed him down on the
bed by the shoulders. Then she just held him there. As if he couldn't break her
hold. As if he wanted to.
"It's just you and me, buster.
I've been waiting long enough for this, and I intend to take my time and enjoy
you." She caressed his shoulders, then smoothed down over his biceps, his
forearms.
He started to reach for her, but
she shut that down.
"No," she whispered
reverently. "I just want to look at you. Touch you."
With that, she trailed her fingers
back up his arms, fingers light as feathers, tracing the veins and ridges of
muscles. He felt his chest, then his face, heat up. Felt his cock stir and blew
out a "whew."
"I used to watch you at the
pool. I lusted after you all those years. Wanted to feel your hard chest
against mine."
"Yours sure isn't hard,
sweetheart." He started to lift his hands to touch her, his lips lifted on
one side at his joke.
"No, not yet. I'm not at all
finished with you."
###
You can imagine the shock of some of the group's members. I
don't think they expected something so raw. At first I was kind of embarrassed,
but then I grew to be pretty proud of the imagery I'd created. The scene sat in
limbo for a year or so. I sure didn't know what to do with it. 
Shortly after my first novel was accepted by
Whiskey Creek Press Torrid, I had a chance to contribute to a series of shorts
in Torrid Teasers. Here's the blurb
of the expanded story: Valentine, her brother Ryan and his best friend
Rafe, ran wild when they were kids. Val's crush on Rafe started early and never
died. Recovering from his divorce, Rafe reunites with Val at Ryan's wedding and
is thoroughly turned on by the stunning woman she's become. Sparks fly, and
their mutual fascination turns to lust. Val and Rafe's lifelong fantasies are
fulfilled in one night of breathtaking sensuality. Can this ecstatic reunion
turn to love?
Shortly after my first novel was accepted by
Whiskey Creek Press Torrid, I had a chance to contribute to a series of shorts
in Torrid Teasers. Here's the blurb
of the expanded story: Valentine, her brother Ryan and his best friend
Rafe, ran wild when they were kids. Val's crush on Rafe started early and never
died. Recovering from his divorce, Rafe reunites with Val at Ryan's wedding and
is thoroughly turned on by the stunning woman she's become. Sparks fly, and
their mutual fascination turns to lust. Val and Rafe's lifelong fantasies are
fulfilled in one night of breathtaking sensuality. Can this ecstatic reunion
turn to love?
One guess as to whether their reunion turns to love :-) I have now re-published this book, changed the
title to Loving Valentine, and gave
it a new cover.
Loving Valentine sale link - http://amzn.com/B007JCTXRS
###
Besides loving these
two stories, I've discovered the pleasures of making my own covers. The Jimmy
Thomas site romancenovelcovers.com has been a gold mine of possibilities for
me. I've used pre-made covers from that site, and now I've begun buying stock
images and adding my own title and author name. I've also used iStock.com and periodimages.com. My covers are simple, but I think pretty
effective. Her Hero's cover is
downright scorching hot ;-) My
eyeballs are smiling.
About me
Sensual
fantasies were locked in my mind for years until a friend said, "Why don't
you write them down?" Why not, indeed? One spiral notebook, a pen and the
unleashing of my imagination later, and here I am with more than a dozen books
published. The craft of writing erotic romance has become my passion and my
niche in life. I love every part of the creative process—developing characters,
designing the plot, even drawing the layout of physical spaces from my stories.
My careers have been varied—third grade school teacher, bookkeeper, secretary—none
of which gave me a bit of inspiration. But now I'm lucky enough to write
romance full time—the best job in the universe! And I'm fortunate enough to
have found my own happily ever after husband.
Jane Leopold Quinn
My Romance: Love With a
Scorching Sensuality
Amazon Author Page http://amzn.to/1DfiXkP
***
My Books
Ellora's Cave
Indie
Siren
