Welcome to the 93rd week of My Sexy Saturday.
This week’s theme is My Sexy Love. The first thing we thought of with this theme was Hands of Love by Wall of Voodoo. Or how about Corey Hart and Sunglasses at Night. Maybe a little of Art of Noise and Moments in Love. Then there’s the Fine Young Cannibals and She Drives Me Crazy or Chris Issac with Wicked Game. These are the things that help drive writers to write. Music, songs and the people who sing them. And we aren’t forgetting the now generation with songs like Your Love Is My Drug or Like Yesterday and the hundreds of others that remind us each and every day why we write romance.
There is something special in writing about love and how two people, sometimes more, can find how important it is. It’s special to us as writers if we find a song or a series of songs that epitomize that love story.
I love this week’s topic. Music has been a big source of inspiration for me in many of my books. Whether it’s a certain lyric that trips something in my mind or a feeling the song provokes.
You might even be able to pick out a couple of my titles that remind you of a song title. Rock Me Gently and Memories of Us. I’ve also been known to mention certain songs in my books.
I know a lot of authors listen to music while they are writing. I don’t. But sometimes I can listen to a song and a whole scene will begin to develop. Or I can picture one of the scenes from one of my books.
I wrote an entire story from what began as one of these visions. It was a Thomas Rhett song, Get Me Some of That.
There’s a part in the song that goes,
Little more what you doin' right there
Swingin' your hips and slingin' your hair
Side to side with your drink in the air
Lord, have mercy, now, girl, I swear
Gotta get your number in my phone
Gotta get me some of you alone
We can worry 'bout it later on
Right now just keep makin' this my favorite song
You're shakin' that money maker, like a heart breaker, like your college major was
Twistin' and tearin' up Friday nights
Love the way you're wearin' those jeans so tight
I bet your kiss is a soul saver, my favorite flavor, want it now and later
I never seen nothin' that I wanted so bad
Girl, I gotta get me, gotta get me some of that
Immediately, I could see that girl. Long blonde hair swinging, a red solo cup in her hand, on the verge of spilling, but she doesn’t care, she’s feeling the music. I panned out and picked up more details. There’s a bonfire, lots of other kids her age, partying, pick-up trucks parked in a semicircle, headlights on. Maybe a high school or college party. I can see her but I don’t know anything about her yet. I look around a little more and realize, all eyes are on her. Everyone watches her, boys and girls alike. She’s one of those people that garners all the attention, but she doesn’t have to try. It’s the way she holds herself the way she moves. She’s confident, graceful and she doesn’t give a shit what anyone else thinks about her. As I pull back a little more, I find the boy who looks at her a little differently than all the others. He’s attracted to her, yes, but there’s something else in his gaze. He cares for her but more so he’s weary of her, scared shitless of her actually. But he’s also very protective. And that’s how Memories of Us (a little play on Keith Urban’s Making Memories of Us) began. This is Karis & Call's story. The first part of the tale flips back and forth between the present and the past as Call (as an adult) remembers their tumultuous teenage years.
I don’t often create play lists but I did for this story.
I don’t often create play lists but I did for this story.
Get Me Some of That Thomas Rhett
Making Memories of Us Keith Urban
Jumped Right In Dallas Smith
Summer of 19 You and Me, Dan and Shay
They don't know about us - One Direction
Not a Bad Thing - Justin Timberlake
Shawn Mendes - Life of the Party
Jesse Mccartney - Freaky
When the present and the past collide…
Call Barstow spent the better part of his teenage years fighting off the sexual advances of Karis Hirt. Gorgeous, wild, promiscuous, and his best friend, Trey’s little sister, to boot. This in the teenage boy vernacular is referred to as pure unadulterated hell!
Determined to keep his friends from his sister, Trey swears all his buddies to a hands-off-the-sister pact, which Call takes very seriously. Call’s pledge is only made more torturous when the sensual little vixen, Karis, is determined to make him break his vow. But his constant rejection only drives her to rebel, leaving her reputation in tatters.
Years later, Karis resurfaces in Call's life—a subdued version of the wild child he remembers. Suddenly the pact doesn’t seem important anymore, nor does her spotty reputation. As Call begins to reconcile the past-and-present Karis, he is inundated with memories of her and soon finds himself head over heels with the girl who consumed his youth.
Can Call not only forget but overlook her shadowed sexual history for a bright new future? Or will Karis’ wild past only lead to their eventual ruin?
A memory of us…
The boys and I headed to a bonfire party out one of the back roads in a vacant farmer’s field. The baseball team was having a blowout, drowning their sorrows after losing their last game, which put them out the state finals. Most of the school was going to be there. I left the Jeep at home, hoping I could have a few drinks for a change, instead of always being the DD.
A shit ton of people showed up. Kids from other schools, from several counties surrounding ours. Good old boys in pickup trucks rolled in with several kegs and we got loud and obnoxious. It was fuckin’ great. I had more than my share of brew and I was feeling absolutely no pain when Karis showed up. As usual, she looked great. She was in a pair of short shorts that showed off her tanned, toned legs. She wore a light jacket on top to combat the light breeze and the insects.
I’d been getting cozy with this girl from a rival high school. Joy, I think her name was. We’d been dancing and flirting. I was this close to kissing her and maybe suggesting we find somewhere quiet to go. Then Karis started dancing with one of the baseball players. Not her normal bouncing party girl moves but sensual and slow.
“Oh, I love this song,” Joy said, and we started to move, but every time I looked up I made eye contact with Karis. She looked completely sober for once and Goddamn beautiful to boot. She wore her long blonde hair down. It cascaded down her back when the wind wasn’t playing with the strands. “Is she your ex or something?” Joy asked.
“Naw. She’s my buddy’s sister. We all kind of look out for her.” That seemed to appease her, but after another song went by, she said, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be dancing with her?”
“Fuck no. Why?” I looked at her as if she were demented.
“Because you can’t seem to keep from watching her.”
“I might be looking over in that direction, but I’m not zeroing in on her. Besides my beer goggles are starting to get pretty thick. But more to the point, I’m here with you.” I smiled then dipped my head and kissed her. But when I came up for air, I realized, Karis and the ball player were also lip-locked, and for some reason it hit me straight in the gut. I refocused on the chick I was with.