When I wrote my first book—Some Like it in Handcuffs—I wanted a fun scene, but one that would end behind closed doors. My characters started getting a bit frisky in an elevator, stumbled along the corridor of the hero’s apartment building and almost fell through his front door in their haste to remove each others clothing. Upon arriving in the bedroom things turned from playful to hot and heavy and then back to playful. I turned off the light and closed the door so they could have some privacy. The scene was fun to write and I still smile when I read it J
In my second book—Two Timing the Boss—I wanted my characters to be a bit more daring and not have the typical love scene in the bedroom—or behind closed doors. So I chose a more…um…well, public spot. They ended up getting out of control in the backseat of the heroine’s borrowed car in a dimly lit, nearly empty parking lot well after midnight. It was a challenge for them and me to make a love scene in the back seat of a car comfortable but sensuous. Lol
In my latest release—Bachelor’s Special—I wanted to find another fun spot for my star characters Jill Adgate and Chet Castle to lose control and make love. I chose a secluded spot outside in Chet’s swimming pool. I absolutely love how this scene came together and I’m glad Chet and Jill were in the water to help keep their body temps in control because things got hot. So hot I’m surprised the pool water wasn’t bubbling! YOWZA!!!
I have a lot of other fun spots I’d like future characters to get frisky in and I can’t wait to write them. How about you? What’s a place, situation, or a prop that you’d like to see used in a romance book love scene? Who knows, maybe I’ll want to use it!
Synopsis: Saute, simmer, and flambé…
Jill Adgate wants three things from life: a successful catering business, the devoted love of an exceptional man, and a family. What she has is no job, a mounting pile of bills, and her outspoken best friend—who sets her up on a blind date with the man who inadvertently ruined Jill’s life.
Chet Castle is a prosperous businessman who has everything, except the ability to trust. Burned by a money-hungry fiancée, he refuses to get involved with any relationship that has a shelf life longer than a head of lettuce.
Intrigued by her ambition—and determined to get her in bed—Chet offers Jill the chance of a lifetime: Work for him for the next eight weeks as his live-in chef and he’ll help her get her catering business off the ground. When sparks fly in the kitchen, Jill realizes what’s cooking with her commitment-phobic employer is a recipe for disaster…but it’s just too tasty to not take a bite.
About the author: Christine Warner is living her dream in Michigan along with her husband, three children, one laptop and a much loved assortment of furry friends. Besides laughing and a good round of humor, she enjoys spending time with her family, cooking, reading, writing but no arithmetic. A confessed people watcher, she finds inspiration for her stories in everyday activities. She loves to read and write about strong heroes and determined, sometimes sassy, heroines. A girl gone wild, at least where social media is concerned, she enjoys meeting other avid readers and writers on Facebook, Twitter and her Website.
Her body hummed as his smile wavered. Although he wore sunglasses, she’d bet her last dollar his gaze swept across her chest, lingering on the betrayal of her pert nipples pushing against the fabric of her suit.
Until this moment, shyness had never been a trait she possessed. Air stalled in her lungs, her palms grew sweaty, and she itched to cover herself with a towel. Even though her replica vintage swimsuit hid more than most sets of women’s underwear, she felt too exposed. She turned to the side slightly and folded her legs up. Not that it helped, but it made her feel a bit less exposed. Chet slid his feet from his sandals, brushing a hand through his hair. The heat from the sun wasn’t the only thing scorching her skin. She trickled several droplets of water over her arms, but she couldn’t drag her focus from his toned flesh.
Jill soaked in his ripped abs and the obvious package of goodies covered by his brown swimsuit—the same sexy brown as his hair. Damn, did a man have a right to fill out a pair of swimming trunks like that? Flecks of hair, just enough to give him a manly appeal, covered the etched muscles of his long, tan legs. She licked her lips, hoping she could still speak.
“Do you want some privacy?” Yes, say yes. She needed an excuse to make an escape without coming off like someone desperate to be making an exit.
* * * * *
Hell no, he didn’t want privacy. Through the shield of his sunglasses, he inspected her body from the tips of her pink-painted toenails to the top of her brightly flowered swimming cap. Did people still actually wear those things?“No, you look comfortable. Stay and enjoy the day.”
“Oh…are you sure?”
Amazed at his own ability to talk without his tongue hitting the cement, Chet turned to throw his towel and sunglasses on a nearby lounge chair. Damn.
The red and white polka-dot halter-style suit featured a tight bodice, but her slender hips and shapely thighs hiding beneath a matching skirt grabbed his attention until all oxygen left his blood. Even showing less skin than the average girl on the beach, she far exceeded sexy and alluring.
Get a grip, Castle. She’s off limits, no matter how delectable. He turned and stepped onto the diving board. He bounced along the surface as he made his way over the water. When he looked at Jill’s bathing cap covering her head, he held back his grin. The neon rubber flowers reminded him of something his grandmother would’ve worn, but there the similarity ended. Everything beneath that cap was far from making him think of Grandma.