As a Multiple Sclerosis patient, it has become necessary for me to reinvent myself. I have ... and continue to ... refuse to lie down and die, or in this case, follow the normally prescribed drugs and treatments that do nothing to defeat my disease. I am not only surviving by pursuing alternatives, I am thriving. I do the things specialists told me I would never be able to do. I walk and hope to one day even run regularly. I retain my cognitive and creative abilities for the pleasure of my readers. Although you may never see me on my daily walk, you are welcome to read my novel(s) and in doing so, come to ask yourself, "How can the 'out of the box' protocol she has followed, help my loved one with an autoimmune disease like Multiple Sclerosis?"

Sizzling Kiss from Dark Days of Promise

The first Sizzling Kiss is coming June 26th.

(Excerpt is unpublished.)
Kelly opened the door to a bedroom, turning back toward me.

“Your turn. Do you trust me enough to join me in my room?” His eyes danced between teasing and seriousness.

I set the fork on the counter where I’d found it, taking a deep breath before joining him.

Kelly crossed the floor to the closet and produced a medium sized lock box. Setting it on the bed, he unlocked it, withdrawing the handgun. The fragrance of cleaned guns tickled my nose and yet I relished it.

“Recognize this?”

Unsure of the promise I had asked him to make concerning the boys and gun safety, I nodded.

“Come here.”

I did as he asked; stepping in front of him, facing him, quivering like the leaves of a bush in a gentle breeze. A hint of sunlight stole through the curtains, leaving a trail across the bed. My fear of guns rushed to the surface. I fought to retain my calm exterior.

“You know, despite the faint odors of Jacob’s shop, you smell . . .” He mused, closing the distance between us. “Do you always wear perfume to work?”

“No, I put that on just before I came up here.” I couldn’t smell my perfume, only the oil or whatever it was he’d cleaned the gun with. An involuntary shudder of excitement raced up my spine. His nose brushed across my jawbone, my knees went weak. Cautious, I placed my open palm on his chest, looking down at my hand, feeling the solid mass of him.

He touched my ear with his nose. His warm breath sent delightful shivers of pleasure across my senses making my breaths come faster. He dropped the unloaded weapon on the bed to free his hands. With gentle strength, he took hold of my shoulders bringing me closer to him. He locked my gaze with his own, searching for signs of fear. His hands moved from my shoulders to my cheeks.

I didn’t flinch. I watched him approaching my lips, forgetting everything around us. The fragrance of freshly cleaned guns faded into the background, replace by his musky scent. I watched his eyes as his gaze dropped to my lips, and I closed my eyes. Taking a moment to pull back, he approached again allowing the soft pressure of his lips to touch mine. The deliciousness of his clean sweet taste overwhelmed me, inviting me, drawing me into his space. I yielded to him, stepping closer, willing to give him more. He allowed me to lean into him, pressing against his body. His kiss remained gentle while my responding kiss became passionate. My eyes flew open in sweet ecstasy. I closed them again, drinking in the moment.

He broke the kiss, stepping back. “Weapon safety first.”

“Yes sir.” I murmured. Really? It required determination to turn my back to him without increasing the distance between us. Not because I didn’t trust him but because I wanted a few more kisses. “What’s first?”

“For you to learn what your weapon feels like in your hands.”

I closed my eyes to steel my nerves. My first lesson in gun safety began.

(Excerpts from Dark Days of Promise. With a special thanks to my daughter.)

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