Here’s two facts about me that you’ll need to know when you read my stories. First, my parents are from the West Indies. Second, I was raised in the South.
Well, there you go. Have a nice day.
Oh wait…you don’t get it? That could only mean one thing–you don’t have to deal with that influential double-whammy. Face it folks, I can spout a saying to suit Every. Single. Occasion. Even when I don’t mean to add them, they have a way of sneaking in, sometimes indirectly. Look at what happened when I wrote Hunger Aroused:
Rode hard and put up wet.
Every part of her body was hot, just short of combustible. This sensation wound through her, tightening her insides. This burning, twisting ache. Removing her clothing and dropping onto the comfort of her bed helped with some of the sweet pain, but still it wasn’t enough. Jasmine needed more, something undefined, some relief she didn’t know how to name. It was sexual and ravenous, a gnawing hunger…
When he touched her, when he picked her up in his arms, the hunger intensified. The agony burned so brightly, she might explode from the potency of it. Every place their skin connected pulsed with life. Waves of craving and needing rippled out until trapped beneath her skin, they had no place to go. There they pulled at her insides and rolled like a series of detonations. Him—his touch—she needed it like air.
That dog won’t hunt. (Thanks Dr. Phil for making this one a part of pop culture)
“You know of vampires?” he asked finally.
“Vampires? You mean…like garlic-hating, cross-avoiding, destroyed-by-sunlight vampires?”
“Truth.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Vampires, as in Bram Stoker and the like.”
“Are you trying to tell me,” her eyes narrowed, “that someone bit me and I’m becoming a vampire?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
Corin could almost hear the wheels of her mind spinning. Definitely anticipated the way her body tensed. In her position, he expected nothing less. When she vaulted from the bed, he was already two steps ahead of her.
Every mikkle mek a mukkle*.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re a hundred years old and sleep in a casket at night.”
He snorted. “Hardly, but I am a vampire. Get your mind wrapped around that.” When she continued to stare at him, his jaw tightened. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“You think?” she replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
“What would it take to convince you?” His smile broadened.
“More than…” Despite being only a foot away from him, she took a step closer. Her height gave the perfect vantage point for seeing exactly what he wanted her to see.
No one had incisors like that. No one.
*Loose translation: every little bit counts.
Please tell me I’m not the only one who was brought up slinging all sorts of sayings around. Comment here with one or two sayings your folks or grandfolks raised you with, and I’ll pick a random commenter to win an ebook copy of Hunger Aroused. Winner will be drawn by 11pm EST on 11/8/10 and posted in the comments.
Thanks for stopping by, y’all.
Dee Carney writes erotic romance and erotica, every bit of it influenced by sayings you’ve probably never heard of. Visit her on the web at www.deecarney.com for more.