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It's blog hop time! (And don't you just love the title of this one? I do!) We've had some crazy cold temperatures here in the northeast and though it's been milder this week, we're allegedly due for some more snow this weekend. I hope you've all been finding ways to stay warm!
Let's snuggle up to some heroes on this blog hop. The other authors and I are waxing poetic about what makes them so wonderful. It's a rather subjective topic, of course, and I'm sure we can all go on for pages and days. Me, I like there to be something that sets my hero apart from the other people around him. There's got to be something special, something unique, something that captivates his love interest and doesn't let him/her go.
That special something doesn't necessarily have to be a grand heroic act or an impressive feat of strength. I sometimes refer to Stephen MacClare, one of the protagonists of The Edge of the Sphere as my "quiet hero". He may not be physically imposing and he's not going to sweep the heroine off her feet and carry her fifteen miles in the snow uphill both ways, but he's got his strengths and talents nonetheless. Let's take a look at one of them.
Stephen knew he was starting to ramble nervously, and he didn’t want to bore his companion. “I thought moving out of the city would help me find the inspiration I needed. It didn’t.” The familiar flush of color rose to his cheeks, and he continued on regardless, knowing he had nothing to lose. “Until now. I…uh…I’ve been painting you,” he confessed.
She sat up straight and stared at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes. He shrunk away beneath the intensity of her gaze and looked down. “I’m sorry. That’s kind of weird, I know.”
She shook her head vigorously, and tilted his face back to meet hers with a finger on his chin. He thought he saw the beginnings of another smile appear at the corners of her mouth, yet he didn’t have much time to observe it before she leaned closer to him. Her lips brushed against his, and she slid her hand down to his chest, letting it rest right above his pounding heart. His mouth opened and her tongue slipped inside, playfully entangling with his own.
I don't know about you, but if a handsome artist confessed that I was his muse, I'd get some warm tingly feelings. If you'd like to read more, enter the rafflecopter for the chance to win The Edge of the Sphere in e-book form! Don't forget to leave a comment on the post as well (here and at all the other stops!) so you can be eligible for the hop's grand prize, an Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift card!
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