1. Gil wants to paint Faye. She asks, “You don’t want to do this in the…um…the nude, do you?” She placed a hand on her chest above her breasts.
He responds, “Well, no, I’m not usually in the nude when I paint,” he responded dryly. “But that’s your choice.”
2. Gil and Faye are smooching on the beach and are attacked by two greyhounds that lope up to them, stopping short to cock their heads at the humans. The dogs are soon followed by their owner.
3. Boy, this is boring. This is what Faye thinks while she poses for Gil. Even though it’s a sensual experience for both of them.
4. Faye is older than Gil by 12 years.
Their affair was scorchingly sensual.
Faye Burke, recently widowed, retreated to the coast of Maine to grieve and reassess her future. Her favorite part of the day is watching the sun rise out of the Atlantic Ocean. It’s also when the man she considers her guilty pleasure runs along the beach.
Gil Farrelly, a successful painter, is trying to get his career back on track after the studio fire that destroyed everything. He starts his creative juices flowing every day by running on the beach. The lovely woman who watches him also gets his juices flowing and he’s determined to reinvent his career by painting her.
Faye’s combination of maturity and sensual vulnerability intrigue Gil and he wants to immortalize her on his canvas. She’s flattered, aroused and ultimately frightened of the emotions he incites. He claims not to care he’s younger by twelve years but she believes sooner or later he’ll come to his senses and seek out women his own age. Can Faye conquer her fears? Can Gil prove to her it’s not age separating them but her fear?
With a clatter of easels, boxes of paints and glass jars of brushes, Gil set up on her porch. A stiff breeze swept across the space but a rattan wind screen at one end did a good job of protecting them. The day had started out cloudy and threatening rain and still held that promise. He had work to do before he could give in to the weather.
Faye had greeted him at the door, looking almost as adorable as she’d looked the night before. Today she wore light makeup and left her hair loose and wavy the way he’d asked her to. Denim cropped pants and a tight red sweater made her look like a teenager. She had to be in her early forties but it didn’t matter to him. She was very attractive no matter her age. “Let’s get started, shall we Faye?”
“Would you like some coffee or something else to drink?”
“Not right now but I’ll take you up on that later, okay? Why don’t you stand over there.” He indicated the corner of the porch. “Lean one hip on the railing.” When he came close, he was enthralled by the warm vanilla fragrance infusing her hair. He lifted a hand to touch the cloud-soft mass. She stilled, then shivered as if waiting for him to make a move. He wrapped his fingers in the silky strands.
She uttered a little cry, more of a whimper. Her lips parted, her eyes widened and met his with a flustered look. At that moment he wanted her fiercely. Before he’d known anything about her, she’d seemed fragile. He didn’t know much more now but a woman who still wore her wedding ring a year and a half after her husband’s death must have loved him very much. A woman like that would have depths of emotion.
He’d thought he was in pain from losing his studio and his work but Faye’s was far more significant. He didn’t want to see her grieve any longer but all he knew for sure was that he wanted to paint her for himself. He envisioned the scene in his mind. She was perfect for it. All that was left was to do her justice. Was it because he wanted to capture her beauty on canvas or because she got his juices flowing faster than any running could? He knew it was both.
He rested his forefinger under her chin and turned her face toward him. Giving her his most soothing smile, he said, “Relax, Faye, this won’t hurt a bit. Now I’m going over there.” He pointed toward his easel. “You’re going to lean here.” He tapped the railing. “And I’ll start some sketches.”
She gazed up at him with those incredible turquoise eyes, her confusion and longing speaking to him, raspberry-shaded lips pursed slightly. Mmm, the thought roared through his mind. Kiss her.
It’s too soon.
She’s not ready.
Just paint her.
A Promise at Dawn is available at Amazon.
“Good short story! Faye and Gil have very hot chemistry, and their story is heartwarming. I was surprised at the character development in such a short offering. Faye had suffered such a huge loss, and we were drawn in along on her new path in life.”
“Ms Quinn paints a detailed portrait of a woman re-awakening after the loss of her husband. Her emotional state is handled quite deftly. This story has pathos, passion and humor woven together. Gil and Faye’s story unfolds quickly and it’s a scorcher.”
Sensual fantasies were locked in my mind for years until a friend said, “Why don’t you write them down?” Why not, indeed? One spiral notebook, a pen and the unleashing of my imagination later, and here I am with more than a dozen books published. The craft of writing erotic romance has become my passion and my niche in life. I love every part of the creative process — developing characters, designing the plot, even drawing the layout of physical spaces from my stories. My careers have been varied — third grade school teacher, bookkeeper, secretary — none of which gave me a bit of inspiration. But now I’m lucky enough to write romance full time — the best job in the universe!
Jane Leopold Quinn
My Romance: Love With a Scorching Sensuality
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