This week’s theme is Their Sexy Gaze. Have you ever seen a couple who look so adoringly at each other? Makes you wonder just what they are thinking about. Are they thinking about the last time they made love? Or how about the conversation they just had?
The point is that lovers have eyes only for each other. Sometimes the gaze is loving and sometimes not but you always know they are a couple destined to be together forever.
Here are my 7 paragraphs from The Gunny & The Jazz Singer
A big man at the back of a truck directed movers into the house. It was a small truck so there wasn't all that much furniture. An iron bedframe balanced against a tire while the man bent over, his gray t-shirt riding up exposing a muscular back and giving her a peek at a gorgeous ass in snug jeans. He and another man in work clothes hoisted a black leather couch into the air and marched it up the porch steps and through the door.
She put out a hand to balance against the window frame, too curious now to go back to bed. When the man bounded back down the porch steps, his chin lifted and his gaze riveted on hers.
His face with its hard features, strong chin, and dark shadow of a beard tugged at her heart. Short black hair stuck up over his forehead, which would have made him look boyish if he hadn't been filling out that t-shirt and jeans so well. She saw all this clearly. The street was only two lanes wide. Did this small amount of furniture mean the fascinating-looking man didn't have a wife and family? Not that it would make any difference to her.
He lifted a hand to shade his eyes, a big grin splitting his face.
She shivered. The arm holding her up shook. "Oh my God!" Slamming back to the side of the window, she pressed both palms against the wall's rough plaster.
Naked! She'd just shot him full-frontal nudity. She'd been so engrossed in the sight of him she'd completely forgotten her own bare-assedness. Oh shit! He'll either never speak to me or he'll be over here in five minutes.
How the hell was she going to get back to the protection of the bedroom? Her tiny house offered a clear view from the front window all the way through to the back. Afraid to peek around the curtain to see if he was still watching, she realized how cold she was. Her nipples—with a little gold ring piercing one tip—stood out like ripe, hard raspberries. Of course it was the chilly temperature and not her immediate attraction to the man's jeans. And chest. And flat belly…
You can read the complete first chapter here: http://janeleopoldquinn.blogspot.com/p/the-gunny-jazz-singer.html
The Gunny & The Jazz Singer is available here now for 99 cents preorder