Weekends means Rainbow Snippets-time here on the blog, since I’ve joined the Rainbow Snippets group on Facebook. According to their description, “it’s a group for LGBTQ+ authors, readers, and bloggers to gather once a week to share six sentences from a work of fiction—a WIP or a finished work of even 6-sentence book recommendation (no spoilers please!).”
Originally, I’d planned on snippeting from one of my three holiday stories today (yes, you read that right. Three!) but I realized that since I kind of left you with a terrible cliffhanger last week, that would be very mean of me. So, I’ll hold it off until next week and give you the follow up to last week’s scene. See, I’m nice! So if anyone of you would let Santa know, I’d be grateful 😁
I also break the rules and give you a little more than six sentences.
Leaning a broad shoulder against the post on my porch, with one hand in his pants’ pocket and the other hanging carefree at his side, was Vee.
Fucking Vincent Wallace III.
I hadn’t seen him in almost two years.
Six hundred and ninety-five days, to be exact. But who was counting?
A couple days’ worth of sooty stubble covered his handsome face, surrounding his bubblegum pink lips. Making them more kissable than ever. His piano black hair was mussed-up as if he’d rubbed his palm back and forth on top of his head. That was new; he always used to be meticulously groomed. The epitome of perfection. No hair ever dared to stray from his Ivy League haircut. Not even when he’d bent me over the couch and fucked me until I’d screamed the walls down.
I decided the name: Promise Me We’ll Be Okay and it’s currently with my two most trusted betas because I plan on submitting it to a publisher on Thursday. Keep you’re fingers crossed they’ll like it, please 😁
Happy weekend, everyone!