Okay, amid the ween and vajayjay comments on the last post, I did actually get chapter 5 done.
I have been rewriting my first half a dozen chapters or so, because they SUCKED. I am almost ready to tie back into what I originally wrote, which will hopefully make revisions go faster.
I decided that I would share an excerpt from this last chapter, so here it is...feel free to be honest if you see something that you think sucks or doesn't sound right.
Copyright 2008 Terri Rainer
Excerpt from The Crichton Heir (first kiss from our hero/heroine):
Stepping forward, Patrick kneeled next to Margaret. As he reached his hand out to feel for any sign of life, he watched her eyes fly open.
Margaret thought she must be dreaming. She knew she had drifted to sleep by the loch. She often dozed in the afternoon sun in her secluded retreat. What a sweet dream she was having. There above her he hovered, his eyes staring intently down at her from his tanned face. His hair was no longer restrained in his queue, but fell around his shoulders in dark waves.
Margaret reached out to stroke his face. She wrapped her hand into his hair and gently pulled him toward her, determined to kiss Sir Patrick Graham.
Patrick was powerless to resist. The feel of Margaret’s soft hand brushing his face and then tangling in his hair completely undid him. His body responded involuntarily. All he could think of was how sweet this angel would taste. Feeling like a man lost in the desert, coming upon an oasis, Patrick leaned down to drink greedily.
The moment their lips touched, Margaret felt her body respond in ways she could never have imagined. His lips were soft. She could feel his ragged breathing. A shock ran down her spine as she felt the warm firmness of his tongue. It slid across her lips, parting them. Tentatively, Margaret relaxed her lips, and moaned into Patrick’s mouth as her tongue twined with his. Patrick pressed his weight onto Margaret and she felt as though her whole body was on fire.
Margaret felt Patrick’s hand burn a path up her side and stop on her breast, slowly kneading it. Her senses had never been this alive before, so alive, that she froze. Her eyes flew open again and she pushed hard against Patrick’s chest, appalled that she had in fact not been dreaming.
When he fell backwards, she sat up and glared at him.
“How dare ye take advantage of me in such a way!” Margaret said, trying to catch her breath.
Patrick stared at her dumbfounded. He felt the heat rise into his face. Trying hard to keep his anger in check, he managed to growl, “I wasna the one who dragged you down on top of me, for the second time today, if ye will recall.”