First Kiss Friday

Clover

I still remember my first kiss, mainly because it was awkward. One of those middle school dances held right before the Christmas break. I was dancing, and not very well, with this guy I somewhat knew when my friends ran up with mistletoe. "Kiss her kiss her!"


I wanted to die. He and I just stared at each other--way awkwardly--then finally he gave a little smile and gave me a sweet peck on the lips. Nothing much to it, but I remember thinking that he was the sweetest guy in the world for being so indulgent to my rotten friends and not trying to embarrass me or anything.

Funny thing, I can't remember my second kiss, which you'd think should have been more real and memorable. Shrugging.

Here's Alexander and Jewel's first kiss from Highland Son.

   “Listen…” Her tongue peeked out between her lips and Alexander’s gaze riveted on them. “I…I get it. You kind of like me and it’s twisting your stomach all up into knots. I appreciate that you care…”
   Oh, he cared…
   “But I can do this. You don’t need to worry…”
   The hell he didn’t. He’d show her just how much he’d worry.
   His hands shot to her waist, pulling her body snug against his. Heat flared between them.
   She gasped. Those lips parted in surprise and the irises of her green forest eyes darkened, drawing him in.
Déithe, he was lost.
   His mouth was on hers before he took his next breath. She was cherries and silk and heat and softness. Feminine. A million sensations to explore. A lifetime to explore them.
   Her back arched beneath his hands, her curves molding into him as she pressed closer, matching his kiss with a hunger of her own. Her fingers slid into his hair, pulling his head harder down to hers.
   Her desire filled him, flowing into his magical essence, pushing within every hollow and crease, truly becoming a part of him. It was frightening and intoxicating.
   His body was on fire, every muscle was rigid, each nerve ending alert and searing.
   She pulled away, breathing hard, her soft breasts lifting and falling against his chest.
   He groaned. “If this is supposed to convince me to let you go…it’s having the opposite effect.”

Maureen

My first kiss was so memorable... I can't remember it. I actually have a few early kiss memories and I'm honestly not positive which one came first.

So, I'm going to cheat and let my character, Glory, tell you about her first kiss. 

Sixteen-year-old Glory has a deadly secret. She can physically hurt others with her gaze--especially when she's emotional. This makes having a crush tricky, and possibly deadly--for both her and the boy.
If anyone learns about her secret deviant ability, she'll face death. And if she looks into a boy's eyes, she might kill him.
Glory's both scared and thrilled when Cal, the older boy she's had a crush on forever, takes her to the Human Resources department to get an official dating license. 

From Deviants, (Skyscape, 2012) p. 59

     "His lips drift down and hover so close I inhale his breath. Knowing our lips are close to touching muddles my thoughts and makes my face tingle. I know I should stop him--if he knew what I was, he'd want me dead--but I don't want to stop him. I want to be kissed. I want to feel safe. I want to be a Normal. I want the horrors of my life to be over.
     I tip my face up, and Cal's warm strong lips press against mine, igniting a sharp pinch in my chest that shoots down. His arms wrap around and pull me in tightly. So tight his heartbeat penetrates my skin and thumps through me as our chests press together, and I hope beyond hope that the sensation's because he's holding me close and not because of my curse."

Alexa Bourne

This is the first kiss from my romantic suspense, LIAR, LIAR:

She smacked his shoulder. "Don’t ever scare me agai—"

Grady leaned across the console, cupped the back of her neck with his palm, and pressed his mouth to hers.

Devin froze for a fraction of a second. His lips were soft, commanding, and they coaxed her mouth to join in. He tasted of rich coffee and recklessness and for once, she wanted to let go. She pressed her palms against his chest, gathered the material of his shirt in her fists and pulled him closer.

He kissed her with precision and promise, sucking all energy from her, and when she didn’t think she could surrender anything else to him, he slipped the tip of his tongue between her lips.

E.E. Burke

This is the first kiss from Kate's Outlaw.

She stroked her hair in invitation, her hands shaking as his gaze intensified. "What else had you wondered?"

The muscles in his face tightened. Without warning, he fisted a handful of her hair and jerked her to him. With his other hand, he tilted her face, taking her mouth in a crushing kiss. His firm lips ground against hers, insistent, demanding.

Shock held her immobile. What in heaven’s name did she do now? The kisses she’d received could be counted on one hand, and those were more like pecks.

He drew back for the space of a heartbeat and his gaze searched her face, scorching it. He’d realized she had no clue about what she was doing. Had he also deduced her motive?

His arms went around her, and then he bent his head and began brushing his lips over hers until they softened, parted. His tongue flicked over the tender flesh, the light touch sending shivers up her spine. Her breath stalled in her lungs as he kept up the gentle assault, licking, nipping, soothing. Heavens, he wasn’t just kissing her. He was seducing her mouth.

She released a sigh, and he drew it in as if he wanted to capture her very breath, like one of those night creatures she’d read about in a Penny Dreadful.

Kathleen Baldwin

This is from Diary of a Teenage Godmother

She unfurled her wings and flew beside him. She wanted to say, “Do not die today, Jake Harrison.” She wished more than anything she could make him promise it. A futile wish. There were no guarantees of forever. Not with a human. Not with anyone. Even she could not make him that promise.

There was only one thing worthy of being said in that moment, but words would not do. So Lilliana slipped between the griffin’s neck and wings. Floating there, she faced Jake and pressed her lips against his.

Jake wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her closer. Time seemed to close its eyes. The world around them faded into a forgotten dream as their lips spoke wordlessly, eloquently, of sweetness, joy, and longing.

Donnell Bell

My first kiss was in sixth grade behind the local skating rink.  I don’t remember it all too clearly, but it wasn’t all that.  So why don’t I share one I think is pretty special.  Here is a scene between my protagonists Lt. Joe Crandall and Melanie Norris from THE PAST CAME HUNTING.  

   Melanie stepped back. Joe invaded her space. He wasn’t about to let her retreat. “You married a prison guard. You’re friends with a warden, so I know your problem isn’t with authority. So I want to know, what’s the real reason you hate my guts?”

   “I don’t hate you.” She turned from him and huddled deeper inside his coat. “Not anymore.”

   The comment was almost a whisper, but at her admission, relief shot through him. Hate was a strong emotion. He could chip away at dislike.

   “Speak up. I didn’t catch what you said.”

   She faced him, ramrod straight. “I said I don’t hate you. But we could rethink it.”

   “Funny. Talk to me, Melanie. What is it with you?”

   Her breath came out in a crystallized huff. She looked out over the crowded parking lot and her shoulders fell. “Luke doesn’t know.”

   “What doesn’t Luke know?”

   Pain shadowed her face as she lowered her head. “He knows I’m his stepmother and that’s as far as it goes. He doesn’t know about my arrest, Maxwell or the time I spent in prison.”

   Suddenly, the skies parted and a revelation occurred. Where Joe failed miserably in the home and hearth department, Melanie Norris prided herself on being the consummate parent. Luke was all she had in this world. “And you think I’d tell him, is that it?”

   She met Joe’s steady gaze. “I don’t know you well enough to know what you’d do.”

   “Maybe you should get to know me.” Sensing progress between them, Joe moved closer. “For one thing, it’s up to you to tell your son. I give you my word, he’ll never hear it from me.”

   “Thank you.” She all but melted in relief.

   Too bad Joe didn’t have it in him to leave well enough alone. “That doesn’t mean I agree with how you’re handling the situation.”

   “Of course not.” She crossed her arms.

   “That pedestal you’ve put yourself on, it’s gonna hurt like hell when you fall off. Luke needs to know.”

   “You think I don’t know that?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It must be awesome to be so all knowing and perfect.”

   Perfect? Emitting a humorless laugh, he said, “I think you and I both can discount the all-knowing and perfect statements.”

   “You want the truth?” She fidgeted with the zipper on his coat. “All right. I’m afraid.”

   He hesitated. “You’re afraid of the unknown. Your son loves you. Nothing will change that.”

   “And if it does?”

   “I don’t follow.”

   “If Matt gets angry at you, you have an impenetrable bond. It’s called blood. Plus, he loves and admires you.” Melanie sighed. “Of course, if I tell Luke about my past he’ll still love me. I’ve raised him.”

   “You think he’ll stop admiring you?”

   “As insecure and as vain as that sounds, yes.”

   The parent inside him ached for her. “You really sell yourself short. How many wardens do you think go to such lengths to protect an ex-con?”

   She shook her head. “Simon did that for Carl.”

   “Originally, maybe. But later on . . . remember, I spent some time with the man. He arranged that move for you. That job of yours?”

   “What about it?”

   “How long did it take the shop owner to hire you?”

   Again, she shook her head. “That’s different. I had a portfolio. I’m highly qualified―”

   “How long?”

   She let out a long-suffering huff. “Aaron hired me on the spot.”

   “Exactly.” As for Joe, he felt a satisfied smile coming on. “The warden, your employer, Matt. I think my son would walk over hot coals for you. And don’t forget Coach Hood.”

   Melanie broke out in laughter. “Now that’s stretching things. You’re saying Coach Hood admires me.”

   “The first day we met, he warned me away from you.”

   “Yep. Sounds like admiration, all right.”

   “Darn straight it was. Rick was afraid we’d like each other . . .”

   They stood near the gym doors, where an overhead safety light illuminated the area. Whether it was from the cold or something else, Melanie’s cheeks flushed.

   Fighting a husky edge to his voice, Joe said, “As for Luke, that kid adores you. And even if―when―you tell him, he’ll feel the same. Admiration isn’t optional.”

   Tears sprang to her eyes. It was the first time Joe had seen that happen. Melanie Norris wasn’t a simpering female. At least around him, she held her emotions firmly in check.

   “Thanks, Joe.” She smiled and searched his face. Then laughing she added, “So which one of us is going to have Coach Hood committed?”

   “I don’t know. Putting him away’s kind of rash, don’t you think?” Joe inched closer. “Before we do something like that maybe we should at least disprove his theory.”

   Her smile faltered, but she stood her ground. When Melanie didn’t lay him out flat, Joe pulled her into his arms. And at a high school basketball game, and under the romantic glow of safety lights, he lowered his head. There, he’d put their relationship on an entirely different level, meeting her first in a tentative, then lingering kiss.

Jillian Stone

About first kisses:  One of my favorite things to write is sexual tension. It's about as much fun as a romance writer gets in the business of romance writing. One of the things that ARROW writers and actors have done brilliantly is the relationship between Oliver and Felicity. Do I really care what villainous evil-doer Oliver will be battling this week? Not really. Do I worry about the fate of Starling City? Maybe a little. What I tune in for (religiously every week) is to see if this is the episode when Oliver will finally breakdown and kiss Felicity. Still waiting…

Muah everyone!

Angi Morgan

There are kisses and then there are kisses. First peck on the cheek was in first grade with my very first boyfriend Ronnie Willhite--and it was also the first time I bit a boy, when he took back his eraser. There were a couple of rapid, drive-bys...nothing serious. Then I met Matt. I was a freshman, he was a senior. He kissed me with all the sexual tension any writer could put on the page. Then he promptly asked me if I'd like him to teach me how to kiss. No kidding. We spent hours practicing. Seriously >>grin<<  He also taught me to drive standard in a 1955 pink Chevrolet. (It sounds much more glamourous now than when it happened in 1975.) I owe Matt a big thanks...all that practice came in handy.

My two book connected series ~TEXAS FAMILY RECKONING~ draws on many small town experiences. I didn't use my home town, but Aubrey is very close. It's also full of names of people I went to high school with. (I didn't use personalities, only names).

from NAVY SEAL SURRENDER

Texas Family Reckoning, Book One, available April 15th in book stores and May 1st digitally

Alicia took a step toward him, awkwardly pulled him down for what he thought was another hug. John didn’t reach for her. Instead, super soft fingers caressed him from the bottom of his ears down both lines of his jaws. The sting disappeared faster than a radar blip.

Before he could react, she’d kissed his lips, lingering just a second too long for it to be just a friendly welcome home. Then she waved and returned to her car. “See you around.”

The dust from the road stuck to his arms and face as he stood there like an idiot while she drove away. “Wow.”

~ ~ ~

Lizbeth Selvig

My first kiss didn't come until high school. Before that I was much too much of a tomboy to realize

kissing someone was something to which I'd ever aspire!  That famous first one came after my famous first date with Duane Geisler, the boy my dad said reminded him of Jerry Lewis's Nutty Professor character, i.e., wild hair, buck teeth, and thick glasses. In truth Duane wasn't THAT goofy looking, and he was a very nice guy--one of the school newspaper photographers. The kiss was nice and that's about all I remember. Fortunately, my second kiss was AMAZING. I was fifteen and guess what? Forty-five years later, the guy who gave me that kiss still kisses like a romance hero!

Here's a DEBUT sneak preview of my next book to be officially titled but currently known as "Beauty and the Brit."  David is a button-down Brit living in small town Minnesota. Rio is a girl from inner city Minneapolis. Their first kiss is, to put it mildly, a surprise to both of them:

The shock of her tongue against his swept away all David’s regrets at his rash action. Hints of wine flavored their kiss and melted in his mouth with a rush of heat and unexpected urgency. The slap he expected for his rudeness didn’t come. Instead Rio liquefied in his arms, as unlike the Rio he’d grown to know as anything he could have made up himself. But almost as soon as her bones went soft, she solidified again and reached into the kiss like it was a life ring.

A thrill nearly like pain sliced through his lower belly. She scrabbled closer, brushing up his body, her fingers pulling at the back of his shirt as she massaged his spine in time to the pulsing exploration of their tongues. Her sweetness burst through the wine, and she tasted like abstract things—bravery and seriousness and searching. Their mouths sipped and sampled until thrills spun into sparks that ignited a timeless reaction.

He needed to stop, but the moment owned itself. Their exploration lost all boundaries—racing toward unknown territory with willpower in its wake.

Rio stopped it.

She tore away and shoved at his chest. They panted at each other, her eyes as wildly bewildered as the pounding in his chest. The lavender t-shirt she’d worn all day, now twisted around her torso and crept up her waist. When had he made such a wreck of that? As she tugged it into place he caught a flash of color on her side. She covered it too quickly for him to make it out. Another tattoo?

Another flash to his already-uncomfortable body.

What the devil? He’d meant it earlier when he’d said tattoos never turned him on.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I don’t make a habit of kissing girls who barely know me. I really don’t.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck. His own shirt had been pulled partially free of his jeans. One of the front tails hung loose. The other clung in place by nothing but the tip. “What just happened?”

“I—I don’t know. You started it.” For an instant her tough, fight-back sharpness threatened to return.

“I admit it. But I most certainly didn’t plan it.”

Her shoulders sagged; her wall stayed down. “I didn’t plan it either. I’m sorry.”

“Why sorry?” He grinned in relief. “Hey, it was quite a kiss.” 

Watch for David and Rio's story coming this fall from Avon books!

Tell us about your first kiss