I'm neck deep in all the lovely essays I mentioned yesterday, so this is going to be brief, but FUN. Don't you wish your life was a romance novel? You know, you and the hubs, gazing seductively at each other across the couch, lightly bantering as you celebrate the epilogue of your HEA? Adoring children frolicking in the backyard? Magically clean mansion with unobtrusive yet colorful servants? Quirky, supportive gal pals with Ya-Ya rituals aplenty? Master suite blazing with enough passion to make the neighbors jealous--seven years in? Kama Sutra on stand-by? And, don't even get me started on superpowers, wardrobe, and looks---Don't we all want to be a heroine?
What? Your life is already like this? Please, do share, before I strike you down with my green eyed glare! But, assuming that your life ISN'T a 24-7 romance novel, let's play a little game. Take a brief moment from your day, and re-script it, Romance Novel HEA Style. Go as overtop as you can. Share!
Here's a very brief sample:
Bethany shrugged off her manolos as she came in from teaching, exhausted yet glowing with satisfaction. DH looked up from the delicious Chicken Ala King simmering on the stove and, muscles rippling, threw his "Real Men Cook" apron to the side. His eyes sparked with the promise of passion.
"Hello, my sexy love muffin, have some of my delicious homecooked food while I rub your feet!"
"But the baby . . ." she sputtered.
"Has a bedtime of 7:30! You know that, silly girl. She'll be asleep till morning. Now, have a truffle!"
11 comments:
Checking the box so y'all know I posted :)
LOLOL. I love it!!!
Let's see...
Elisabeth shuffles into the mansion, drops her Valentino bag on the pristine 24-karat gold counter and grunts in frustration.
The DH, looking an awful lot like Paul Walker, sweeps into the kitchen. "What's wrong? I sense tension. Do you need a back rub?"
Elisabeth eyes the Beaver bowl of trail mix on the counter. "Did the Gremlins eat all the M&Ms out of there again?"
DH runs a loving hand down her back. "Yes, my sweet. I know how that frustrates you when you're in need of chocolate. And I've decided that is just unacceptable. The Gremlins have to go. With our sweet love making and my hot genes, we can always make more!"
LOL.
I love it. "We can always make more . . . "
He’s home early.
Lori pinched her cheeks for a spot of color and raked fingers through her hair, amidst the thunderous rise of the garage door. Why in the mix of her busy day had she suddenly thought of wrapping herself in aluminum foil and whispering something sultry, half-peeking from behind the door?
Well, lets face it, wax paper required scotch tape, and stretch-tite suggests plastic and person must stretch across the floor and roll the designated distance together to insure sufficient coverage. Never mind trying to get up off the floor, or the hours past midnight peeling this second skin.
She shoves her silly idea and smile aside and slips into her husband’s strong arms in breathless wonder. After so many years how could she possible be more in love? A hint of chocolate tints his breath. His sweet kiss melts the image of her busy day.
“I bought you a surprise,” he whispers. He dashed to the garage. A rustle of paper brings him back through the door. Grocery bags bulge. His biceps ripple. He pulls out toilet paper, they were down to the last few squares. A box of stretch-tite next claims his hand.
She couldn’t hold back her giggle. Lips part to explain...
Instead, he quiets her with one more kiss. “Have you guessed what it is?”
Breathless and curious she shakes her head.
From his shirt pocket he places a reservation for a month long stay on an cozy island far, far away.
LOL- I love all of these! Lori, now I know what to get you and the dh for Christmas- Saran wrap! ROFL!
Okay, I went to the dentist today and as he had my head in a clench between his arm and his side, I had this thought "I think my DH has more muscle than this guy and my DH is at least 15 years older". Okay TMI!
The back door opens, Tink's nails clatter across the tile floor in a hurry to be the first greeter. He's home. Paty stretches her shoulders and tries to rid the fuzziness in her eyes from looking at the computer screen all day.
What is that smell and sound? No way, the dh hates baths, but it's the bathtub faucet running and a wonderful spicy floral scent wafting up the stairs.
"Are you coming?" a deep voice calls.
Closing the laptop and shoving away from the desk, she's not quite sure what she'll find. But at the bottom of the stairs stands her dh- naked, muscled, and smiling like someone handed him new backhoe.
Slowly, he draws her into the bathroom, seducing her out of her clothes. Sparks fly as they relax, banter, and make love.
As soon as the water cools, he stands up tosses her a towel and says, "Time to get on that tractor. The raking isn't going to get done on its own."
Kendra signed the last form and pushed the stack at the lawyer with a smile. "It's final?"
"No more husband," he said.
Kendra left the lawyer's office to cash in her $240 million Powerball ticket.
I love yours, Wavy, and Eli and Paty and Lori. I'm passing for now as my brain is fried, but I wanted you to know I loved everyone of them! (btw, Lori, yours reminds me of the old Joan Rivers joke: "So I stripped off my clothes and wrapped myself naked in Sara Wrap. When Edgar got home, I was waiting. He took one look and said, "What, leftovers again?"
LOL, Kendra!!!
I have tears! (and not 'cause I'm sad...)
Lori--you are now on my "must buy" list. Get thee a finished WIP and get thee an agent!
Kendra--I have those moments too where that seems like a good HEA too. (If that is actually happening for you, I'm so very sorry, and I hope you come through the otherside with that powerball ticket!)
Too funny!
A girlfriend of mine dreamed of us the other night, she said. I was sitting on Rick's lap and we were kissing.
That's as good as my romance story is going to get tonight, since it's late, I'm bushed and I need to get my post up for tomorrow.
Excellent blog, Wavy. Hahaha!!
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