Hello, lovely readers! It’s the day of lurve, lust and, most importantly, lots of chocolate. Whether you are (to borrow a phrase from one of my students, now turned minor TV star) a ‘single pringle’ or in the throes of a passionate affair, I hope you have a lovely Friday.
To keep things sweet, over on Twitter I posted a few of my favourite kisses from all my manuscripts from the last five years! As a special treat, here’s a longer kissing scene from my current WIP, The Hunt. Our hero, Robbie, is pretending to be a posh boy so he can catch a killer. He catches the eye of Annouchka, most popular girl at school. At a party, after an awkward encounter with her ex (Max), they share their first kiss. But does Annouchka have an ulterior motive?
Annouchka smiles impishly. “Max is a winner.” She leans in so her breath tickles my ear as she talks. “I want you upstairs, now.”
Oh my God. I take a big gulp of beer and follow her up the gilded staircase and into her bedroom.
It’s pink and cream and covered in flowers. Very girly. She points to the bed. “Sit down!”
I perch on the edge, My heart’s thudding so hard I think it might leap out of my chest. She pushes the door closed and walks over. Jesus. I am gonna get so lucky right now.
She sits next to me and turns my face to hers with a manicured finger. Then she leans in and kisses me. It’s all soft lips and wet tongue and I peel away from myself into a moment of heady oblivion. She strokes the edge of my jaw and makes a small noise as I tease her lower lip with my teeth.
Then she breaks it and leans back. “That’s just a little taste,” she says.
“Delicious,” I answer, then swoop for another go. She puts a hand on my chest and pushes me back.
“Uh-uh, not yet. I’ve brought you up here for more than this. What do you know about Max?”
“He’s a sports guy. And seems to be kind of powerful around here,” I answer. “Although I can’t work out why.”
Her mouth curls. “Well, of course. I told you, he’s a winner.” She strokes the top of my hand. “It’s a total turn-on for me – a big, strong guy who’s not afraid of anything.”
Where is this going?
“What do you do for fun, Rob?”
“Me? Uh, the usual. Video games, football, that sort of thing.”
“Do you ski?”
I don’t know what to say. Does she expect me to say yes? She probably goes twice a year – it seems to be very ‘in’ with these people. But if I do, will she catch me out on the details? I’m not sure I know the difference between a snow plough and the après-ski. What I know about skiing could fit on the back of a stamp.
“Once,” I reply. “Not much opportunity where I’m from.”
Her eyes narrow and for a second I’m afraid she’s suspicious. But she quickly carries on.
“Okay, well, whatever. I’m sure you remember what it feels like going down your first piste, huh? It’s like you’re so frightened of dying you go past fear and into this- this higher state.”
Now I can nod truthfully. It’s not from skiing I know this feeling, but all the other crazy situations I’ve been on over the years. Like dangling off the edge of a multi-storey car park trying to stop the feds finding me. Not one of my brightest moments.
Her eyes are shining with fervour now. “Max said I could tell you. I hope you know what a privilege that is. He’s only doing it as a favour to me because-” she blushes – “I really like you. You’re going to be my little…project.”
I’m torn between wanting to laugh in her face and desperately wanting to kiss her again. The brain in my head says one thing and the brain you-know-where says the other.
I settle for, “Oh yeah? I happen to think I’m doing alright as I am.”
She giggles. “Not bad. But you’ve got no reputation at all – no status. I really want to go out with you, but we’re not really in the same circle right now, you know?”
“Not really.” My brain brain is winning.
Catherine Queen 
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