![]() By Margie Church To celebrate the release of my newest book, and in keeping with my topic: unexpectedly sexual, I offer you this. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Grass and wildflowers fill the air with their sweet scents. Picture yourself sitting on a grassy bank next to a stream. You watch the water weaving its way around large rocks peppering its path. A happy gurgle comes from the river as it defies the stones and then dashes on. The sun is warm. The quiet trickles and swishes of the water lull you into a peaceful, relaxing state. Now, you're sitting on the shore of a large lake. There are not many people around. A breeze cools your skin on this warm day. Waves tumble to shore, one after another, moving faster than the playful stream, but in an uneven rhythm. You clutch your knees and rest your chin atop them. A wave reaches your toes and gives them a cool lick before retreating to the depths. You wiggle your feet in the sopping wet sand, appreciating its silky texture. Digging deeper down, your toes become cold. A wave covers your foot and nearly reaches your bottom. Sunlight glints on the water in chaotic patterns as though winking at you before running away. Closing your eyes, you raise your face to the sun and don't care whether the next wave gets you soaking wet. A sea bird cries above your head. The next gust of wind brings the water to you. You flinch, but don't move away when your bottom becomes soaked. ![]() You've moved to the ocean. The offshore breeze is brisk, making your skin pebble even though the day is quite warm. Waves crash into each other in an even tempo eliciting an extended, crunching sound. The white-capped rollers draw your eyes, your ears to them. Rising and falling, one after another, they undulate against the shore. They're ceaseless, breathless, unrelenting. The air's salty humidity is ocean- scented. You breathe deeply, taking in the ocean's rich essence. Each crackling wave is the relentless stroke of Neptune on your body. ![]() EXCERPT: Nopeming Shores, by Margie Church with J. Andrew Lockhart. A sensual paranormal (ghost) romance In his spirit state, Gabe heard and watched the entire scene between his wife and Jana. He stood behind Lily while she said goodbye to Jana. He walked out of the building with Lily to the car. The wind caught a wisp of her hair, and he wished he could tuck it behind her ear. He used to love stroking Lily's soft, wavy tresses. Not yet. She wasn't ready to know he was close by, trying to help her cope. Hell, he was trying to cope, too. God had given Gabe a chance to help Lily, and himself, but it was all in the timing. Gabe wouldn't get long. The Shepherd of Souls had been very clear about that. Lily drove out of the parking lot, but instead of taking her usual direct route to the base exits, she drove through the grounds. In his spirit form, Gabe followed her. She slowed down near one of the park benches. We met there. Gabe recalled seeing Lily with her brown-bag lunch when he'd gone jogging on the historic base. She'd caught his eye immediately. Her long, graceful limbs and full lips captivated him. When she smiled, the sun seemed to dim. Her charming demeanor wiped out all his defenses. She'd shaded her eyes to speak to him. "I've never seen you before." "I was in Seattle for some training, but I'm stationed here. Are you visiting your husband?" She'd giggled this wonderful, heart-warming sound, and her face turned the loveliest shade of pink. Gabe knew in that moment, he was pretty much a goner. "No, I'm not married. I started working at the commissary last week." "Well, if you have lunch in the park, I'll be seeing you. I jog through here almost every day." Gabe didn't usually take that route, but he was darn glad he had that day, and every day after. Lily had waited for him, sometimes bringing along an extra bottle of water or a piece of fruit for him. They'd talk for a little while, then he'd finish his run, although his mind was never on physical fitness after he saw Lilianna Carston. Now Gabe sat on that same bench, remembering the delight in her eyes when he'd asked her to dinner the first time. They'd been almost inseparable after that date. They thought they'd have a lifetime together. He turned toward her car and saw the strain on her face. He watched her shoulders rise and fall in a deep sigh before she drove away from the curb. Gabe didn't get off the bench and follow her. Being dead wasn't exactly halos and fluffy clouds for him. CONTEST: Tell me about something that turned unexpectedly sexual and you could win a copy of Nopeming Shores. Buy link: https://www.nobleromance.com/Books/335/Nopeming-Shores Margie's page on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&search- alias=digital-text&field-author=Margie%20Church Margie's website and blog: www.RomanceWithSASS.com
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