Feel the feels

Here’s mine:

“What’s gotten into you?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I muttered, “Marvin.”


“It’s classified.”

“What?” she laughed.

I didn’t. It wasn’t funny.

Getting everything I wanted made me uneasy. Hell, it made me nervous. She was my once-in-a-lifetime. My too-good-to-be-true. And making her officially mine induced an irrational, crippling sense of paranoia. Marrying her was like entering Area 51 blindfolded and completely buck-naked. With my wrists bound and a bright red target painted on my back. So, yeah, I was scared shitless of being tied down and probed by Marvin the fucking Martian.

Who wouldn’t be?


If you’re an author…

Share a few lines of your character getting in touch with his/her feelings and ONE link to your book or website. If you’re a reader, sit back and enjoy the comments!


Mistress Ann

2 thoughts on “Feel the feels

  1. From my Christmas book that will release December 1st!

    “You never asked me to stay,” he said quietly.
    He was right.
    She had never asked him to stay.
    She had wanted to but she’d been too hurt he left, and then she had been too determined to prove that she didn’t need anyone. That she could be completely self sufficient. That she could take the horror that she had suffered and use it to make herself stronger than she had been before. She had needed to know—for herself not for anyone else—that she could survive.
    And she had.
    But that didn’t change the facts that she still loved Tom, and if he hadn’t walked out the door they would probably still be together today.


  2. This is from ‘Sugar and Spice’ my culinary chick-lit romance:
    Kenan’s beer glass slipped from his hand and he managed to catch it with two fingers and set it down on the table. His vision filled with a mass of shining red curls resting on creamy shoulders dusted with freckles. Kenan’s brain registered a short, bright orange dress clinging to every curve and something deep inside him tightened. On automatic pilot he stood up and caught her eye, giving a quick nod of acknowledgment. The woman sashayed across the room and every man in the place followed her progress with their eyes. Next thing she stood right in front of him and a dangerous musky perfume tickled his senses.
    ‘Kenan Rowse, I assume?’ Her smooth honeyed drawl wrapped around his brain and he wished himself safely back in a foxhole in Afghanistan.


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