TALK ABOUT A HORSE

AT A RECENT ROMANCE WRITERS' MEETING WE WATCHED HORSES BEING GROOMED AND DRESSED IN THEIR REGALIA TO PULL A BUGGY. WE THEN HAD TO WRITE FOR TEN MINUTES AND INCLUDE A HORSE IN THE PIECE.
HERE IS MY PIECE -I THINK IT MAKES A GREAT BEGINNING FOR A NOVEL. WHAT DO YOU THINK?
COMMENTS WELCOMED

 The chilling mist of the evening seeped into her bones. It evaded her ermine collar, frosting her neck and forming dew-drops on her eye lashes.
 Beside her, the horse pawed the ground, impatient with their shared inactivity.  She leaned against the gelding, absorbing its warmth. Deep in her pocket she found an apple quarter and holding her hand flat she fed the horse. Its soft lips nuzzled her coat, seeking more and tightening her grip on the bridle she turned her head away from its steaming nostrils. Her cold hands reminded her she’d forgotten to wear gloves. The initial appeal of an afternoon assignation, away from prying eyes, now seemed a silly, childish notion, made without grown-up consideration.
A movement in the shadows, by twittering bird, caused her to start and frightened her horse.  The bridle jingled and the horse mouthed the bit, the only sound now in the still, cold air.
Was any man worth this wait? If Archie didn’t arrive shortly she’d ride home, taking the bridle path this time, around the lake.  The smooth surface would be safer in the diminishing light, than chancing her horse breaking a leg from a misplaced hoof in a rabbit hole.
Tired of waiting she mounted.  The saddle, damp from the fine rain, slipped under her wool coat. She leaned forward, clicked her tongue, pressed her heels into the horse’s flanks urging the animal to move. He responded, breaking into a trot. She lowered her head to his neck to duck under the tree branches until the open space was reached. Once clear a firmer command had the horse move into a canter and she headed along the bridle path at pace. 
Never had home been so inviting, a roaring fire and a good meal – and never had a man been so infuriating as Archie St. John. His dark eyes held promises of love, his kisses spoke of suppressed lust, and his words soothed her mind like a  honeyed balm. Perhaps her responses had been too forward? Mr. St. John would find her unavailable when he next came to call, his hunting stallion calling to her mares, his hounds baying across her fields. 
 Did she need a husband or a lover? Having had the first, perhaps the second would now be the better choice.

A TALENT FOR LOVING. - JUST RELEASED

EXCERPT:

There it was again.
 That tickling on the edge of her safety net. She always put her confusion barrier up when in the city.  Anyone wanting to approach her would be stifled at five paces away, their decision to approach would waver and hopefully they would give up their effort.  Any other pedestrian, not concerned or not noticing her would walk right on through it.  It was a handy device that kept her safe and a secret she shared that put her mother’s mind at rest.
 Besides, you never knew when someone from the ‘Nursery’ might be checking up on your life.  Cursed people.  Thank God she’d escaped, been adopted by loving indulgent parents and was managing to live her life to the fullest
 The sensation tickled her back again and she stopped mid-stride, turned and looked down the street.  There he was again, the same young man who’d stared at her in the supermarket the other day while she’d been shopping with her mother. He had to be about her own age - too young to be a government agent. What did he want from her?  Probably some creep who stalked people, unless it was a co-incidence? Could he be g-altered too?
Did he recognise her from the Nursery?  The children had mixed socially when they were growing up until the magic age of seven. Any friendships formed were then split asunder as some stayed, some were adopted and some seemed to vanish overnight. His face didn’t ring any bells in her memory. Had he been adopted as well? To be out in the world he must have. Those ‘conscripted’ didn’t enjoy the luxury of free will.
She ran her gaze slowly over him, taking in his tall frame, broad shoulders and thick, dark hair.  He met her gaze with equal interest before she turned and walked on. She could feel his indecision prickling again behind her. If he really wanted to talk to her then her confusion barrier would be stopping him.  A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She could feel his puzzled thoughts bouncing off her barrier, as other pedestrians streamed past close to her and wove between them. No doubt he couldn’t work out how they could get close to her and he couldn’t.
She wondered if he’d work out how break through the barrier. No one else had so far. It wasn’t that she was against men or found the opposite sex unattractive. It was simply a matter of safety first. On reaching the corner she took the steps into the train station at a run, glad to be out of the wind and stopped to read the digital notice board’s moving message.  There was a ten minute wait till her next train on Platform three. Should she get a coffee to sip on the train?  She checked her barrier, no tickling, no irritation. He must have given up, or moved away.  Pity, obviously no stickability. He’d looked rather nice too. Ah well, he might try again and she just might let him approach next time.
(514 words)

NEW RELEASE 'A TALENT FOR LOVING'

JUST OUT, hot off the (electronic) press! My latest novella. Read the prequel to the Corban family's adventures.  Indulge yourself in the romance of William Corban and Belinda Barrington.

http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=products_all&filter_author=142&zenid=e95d736970bb6096ffdac6ea18cc771b
Talents come in many guises.
William and Belinda, two genetically altered individuals meet years after leaving the government-rearing nursery for genetically altered infants. Their late development allowed them to escape a life devoted to the government's defence departments. If their skills are now discovered they are in danger of conscription by the government.
William, whose talent is to move through space between locations in the blink of an eye, has devoted his life to protecting other ex-nursery adults. Belinda occasionally uses her talent, lifting objects of great weight with her thoughts. Their meeting leads to love and a raft of problems both struggle to overcome.
Can they trust each other enough to allow love to bloom? Can they risk the renewed attention of the Defence Department?
A Talent for Loving explores an alternate reality and discovers the one talent neither Belinda nor William can control - love.

 WELCOME TO MY BLOG, I HOPE YOU ENJOY MY 'JUST DESSERTS' CONTRIBUTION

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT AND BE IN THE DRAW TO WIN A PDF FILE OF
LOVES BRIGHT STAR , the first in my series published by Secret Cravings Publishing.





PASSION DESSERT DOWNUNDER

Ingredients:
P lenty of time   
A n afternoon will do
S ome wine
S omething slinky to wear
I magination
O ne hunk of fruit, preferably handsome - and
N o inhibitions

Method:
Beat boredom until vanquished.
Fold in silk sheets
Mix together all above ingredients, stirring slowly (you may need to use your hands.)
Add fruits of passion, cherries optional.
A high heat level will help with the rising of this scrumptious dessert.
This delight is wonderful accompanied by wine. A sparkling white for daytime indulging and/or a smooth red for evening, are recommended. The wine can be imbibed or poured over the dessert before it cools. This will add to the richness of the experience. A covering of warm chocolate can also be applied.
Chef’s notes:
Wooden spoons optional, electrical appliances not recommended. Other ingredients may be added, depending on personal tastes and the seasonal fruit available at your location.
Do not set aside and leave in the middle of the mixing method unless you are prepared to face the consequences. Once all ingredients are assembled it is hard to stop the process.
Don’t email me if this recipe fails to please. Personal tastes vary.
Best Wishes
Virginnia De Parte  - writer of romances with a difference
(email: virginniadeparte@gmail.com)
I am at a writing course all weekend, Please excuse my absence. I will be reading your comments each evening. Thank you for calling.

BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S

The satin sheets wrapped her in their smooth embrace. Lying on her side she watched the dust motes dance in the sunbeam that had begun its slide down the wall. The faded peonies on the wallpaper marked the sun’s daily progress from dawn to midday when it left the room and moved on in the world.
Aaron’d promised to come early but already the clock loudly counted the seconds.  If she lay here much longer she’d begin to get cold, and the rumble in her stomach reminded her she’d missed breakfast in her hurry to shower, pamper her skin, fluff her hair and arrange herself seductively in the bed.
Fed up with waiting Tiffany flung the sheets back, untangling her long legs from the clinging folds. Hunger called. The air brushed her skin as she strolled around the kitchen. Delighting in her nakedness she scrambled the eggs and dropped slices of bread into the toaster. Cooking sans clothes certainly increased one’s enjoyment of mundane household tasks.
       The sound of the downstairs door slamming shut heralded his arrival. Her breasts stood to attention and her buttocks clenched.  What to do first? Eat her breakfast or jump back to bed? Food won the day and she remained where she was, a piece of toast in her hand, gently folding the egg mix over a low flame.
Behind her the kitchen door opened slowly, its creaking hinge announcing his arrival. She hoped her ‘modus operandi’ would increase his lust. Sometimes he needed a little help.
A gasp, a scuffle of feet, a rather non-Aaron noise and she swung round shouting “Surprise” intending to give him a full body hug.
Mid-stride she stopped.
         The plumber, his mouth open, a faint sheen on his forehead and certainly aroused, as evidenced by the bulge in his boiler suit, stood in the doorway as still as if someone had plumbed him to the floor.
Damn, it’s Wednesday.  She’d forgotten she’d arranged to have the dishwasher fixed while she was at work.
       Forget Aaron – he’d missed his chance. Running her gaze over the young man, his unruly curls, his broad shoulders and bronzed arms holding two steel toolboxes, she made a decision.
“Fancy some scrambled eggs – or a bit of rumpty-tum?  I seem to have both ready. Which would you like first?”
His smile began small and grew to reveal two rows of lovely white teeth. The toolboxes hit the floor. She stretched behind with one hand and turned off the gas
“Mmm… we’ll skip the eggs,” she said.

*****

COMMENTS WELCOMED!

Review site - worth visiting

Here are the links to two comprehensive and independent reviews of my Sci Fi Novellas.
While there enjoy the other reviews on this site.

http://read-it-reviewed-it.blogspot.co.nz/2012/07/loves-bright-star-copyright-2012.html

http://read-it-reviewed-it.blogspot.co.nz/2013/02/loves-red-heart-by-virginnia-de-parte.html

LANDSCAPES OF LUST

This cameo is the lead-in to Landscapes of Lust, a further escapade of Christopher Mortlock's.
He features in Memoirs of Lady Montrose, being released as part of the "At Your Service" anthology: release date  May 2013 by Total-e-Bound. Landscapes of Lust is under consideration at present.

"The colour caught her eye - iridescent green with black lettering.
Louise reached out to stroke the surface of the business card, its bottom corner curled like a beckoning finger.  Could it be the same as the one on the supermarket notice board? She’d read that card and decided it had to be a joke. But a joke card here on the official up-market notice board at the Public Library?

She took a furtive glance over her shoulder.  No one seemed to be looking in her direction and with

a quick flick of her fingernail she removed the tack and caught the business card.
The tack hit the floor with a ping and she palmed the card as she bent to pick up the tack and push it back into the soft-core board, along with the other spare pins in the left bottom corner.  The sign at the top said: “Public Community Notice Board. Please take the card if you need the service advertised”. She needed a gardener. Why did she feel so guilty?

She hurried through the automatic doors into the spring wind, one hand firmly holding her hat down, the business card still clasped in her fingers. She unlocked the car and slid in, grateful for the privacy so she could read again the fine print. Would it be the same as on the other card she’d read?
 The heading was easy enough to read, it was the smaller print that required her glasses.
Christopher Mortlock
Gardener Extraordinaire
 ‘Lawns, edges, pavings – pruning, thinning and cravings.
Wisteria trimmed, hysteria tamed
     eradication of widow’s weeds’ a specialty

Satisfaction guaranteed
All services  undertaken with specialist carePhone  - 202 6969.

Yes, the wording was the same.  She had cravings you wouldn’t believe possible after three years of widowhood, not to mention a garden that looked as if Nature had won the battle against orderly growth.

This man could be the answer to her prayers all she needed now was a bottle of wine and the courage to ring him. "