Other day I was driving and I saw them on the front lawn of a neighbor's house, all hanging out but one all puffed up with feathers open and on display.
Actually, I blame the Millie Criswell books. They downloaded on my sweet Lucifer and then his fire went out.
I fucking hate you, Millie Criswell.
Other news: the DC Universe is alive and well on television and Mollie and I are loving it. Arrow, Flash and Gotham. And there's a Teen Titan live action in the works. Can you say squee?
And still on point with nano. Lea finished already (the bitch) but I plan on crossing that finish line. And my nephew, the graphic designer, is being put to work making a book cover. I expect some ripped bodices or I ain't using it.
Speaking of the nephew, he wanted me to read him a sex scene I wrote so I got out The Bodice Rippers and did. I believe he may be gay now...
His kisses transported her to the glorious days of her youth when she always felt free and excitable. Days she would ride her horse Jeremiah for hours on end, reveling in the feeling of her crotch rocking hard on the saddle. Nobody understood her obsession with that horse but the saddleboy was often seen sniffing the saddles so maybe he understood after all.
And don't forget...
"Please don't," Hermoine gasped looking at the hair that curled darkly on his chest, his shoulders, his upper arms and down to the knuckles of all his fingers including the extra one, "please don't kiss me until I can't speak, please don't manhandle my love mounds and then throw me on the bed ravaging me until I squeak with pleasure and climax for a full six minutes, my love tunnel tight and taut and moist against your raging manhood."