Female or male, what’s the first physical feature that grabs your attention?
I recently heard of a study where women were shown 75 pictures of men, and they overwhelmingly agreed it was a guy’s smile that called to them. Now, I’m not sure if these were only headshots being viewed or if the women responding were just being PC ;-), but I will boldly admit that the first thing I notice is a man’s chest. Given the mass quantities of bare-chested photos posted to Facebook pages, I’m inclined to think I’m not alone here!
Though, for argument’s sake, let’s say the photos viewed were only headshots. (I know, where was the fun in that study??!) What is the first defining feature you notice? Is it neatly trimmed or strategically messy hair? Is it dreamy or alert eyes? Is it a playful smirk or a sexy smile? Is it a strong, clean-shaven jaw or a scruffy one?
Although I know eyes are supposed to be the windows to the soul, for me, a smile says it all. First, it can hold honesty. That’s probably the most important quality of a smile. Beyond that, my favorite expressions include the Billy Idol sneer from the ‘80s/’90s (think “Rock the Cradle of Love” or “White Wedding”). I’m pretty sure that man has left millions of wet thongs in his wake. I’m also hugely fond of the smoldering, bad-boy smirk. You know, the one that says, “I can easily make you come ten times in an hour if given the chance,” without even saying a word!
Like purposely messy hair and edgy dispositions, not all men can pull off the sneer or the smirk—or the wicked intentions they promise. Perhaps that’s why I find them so alluring. 😉
I’d love to hear what you find sexy, endearing, or engaging about facial features. Leave a comment and you’re entered to win either an autographed, print version of the Advance Reader’s Copy of Book 1 in my upcoming St. Martin’s Press trilogy releasing Oct. 6, BURNED DEEP (US delivery), or the electronic version.
And keep those bare-chested photos coming on Facebook!
Happy Autumn!
Calista
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WHAT LOLA WANTS (Grand Central Publishing/Forever Romance)—NOW ON SALE!
Calista is a former PR professional, now writing fast-paced, steamy books to set your pulse racing! Her publishing houses include St. Martin’s Press, Grand Central Publishing and Harlequin. Her debut SMP trilogy opens with BURNED DEEP and concludes with a new book four, starring the trilogy’s secondary hero! She is an Amazon bestseller and has won many Reviewer’s and Reader’s Choice Awards, as well as Best Book Awards and other competitions with publication as first prize. Calista is a college graduate and teaches online writing classes. She is also a Past President/Advisor of the Desert Rose Phoenix chapter of the Romance Writers of America national organization. Visit her at: www.calistafox.com, www.facebook.com/calistafox and www.twitter.com/calistafoxbooks
Last weekend I took my miniman to Denny’s to eat Breakfast. It was a mad house. I had to wait to find a place to park. Long line inside but space at the bar. So instead of waiting on a table we just decided to eat at the counter and low and behold we could see in the kitchen and watch the cooking staff, not to mention the interaction with them, the waitstaff and the manager on duty. I’m going to call her Judy, because I didn’t ever get her name!
So, back to my story. Did I mention yet it was a mad house?? Because OMG it was nuts in there. Pretty quick we got our drinks and placed our order. Waitress, Patricia, was super friendly. I figured it was going to be forever til we got food and we settled in to watch the cooks.
Holy. Shit. I have NEVER in my life seen 3 men cook as fast as they did. And they NEVER slowed down. Not once. Only time I saw them pause was when a waitress/waiter needed them to do something. They were immediately on it and then back to the orders. Ticket after ticket they closed.
It was incredible. Kid you not I was freaking in awe. And the waitstaff? They all helped each other. Cleaning tables, taking appetizers and orders out to other peoples’ tables. Fixing issues. And Judy? She wasn’t just standing off to the side and delegating. Hell to the no. She was in the thick of all of it doing everything she could to help her people and get customers taken care of.
Now let me add in the fact I’d been sick with Strep for almost two weeks, working 11hr days at my real job. Exhaustion doesn’t do justice to how I felt that morning. But these people were just awesome AND they saved me from having to cook or clean up for breakfast.
Our food was awesome. Perfect timing on everything. And Judy’s still running around like crazy.
We got finished, I paid, was about to leave but Judy needed to know how awesome they were all doing. So I waited for her to walk back behind the hostess stand, and then I asked to speak with her. She kind of deflated, but said “Absolutely, how can I help you?” On that kind of day, one extra person shoveling shit onto your plate is the worst. So I told her everything I typed above. They were all doing amazing. What a great crew she had working for her and she herself was one of the best restaurant managers I’d ever seen. Keep up the good work and she absolutely gained me as a repeat customer.
OMG you’d think I’d handed her a million dollars. She was so excited and told me I made her day and thanked me for taking the time to tell her. I heard her passing the news to two other people as I was walking out. Paying it forward to a complete stranger who needed a pick me up and a pat on the back made me feel awesome. We need more of THIS in the world to balance out the rest of the meh going around right now.
Speaking of paying it forward — I have a HUGE bag of conference swag to give away! Print books, a bag, bookmarks, pens, buttons and maybe a few naughty somethings throw in to make your heart go pitter pat!! How do you enter to win? Easy!
Just comment below and let me know something you’ve done for a perfect stranger that made their day and yours!! I’ll let my miniman pick a random winner tomorrow. Good luck!!
Decadently Yours,
Jennifer Kacey
Need something to wet your whistle while you wait to see if you won goodies??
May I suggest a delicious bite out of the Members Only series…….. 😛
I’m busy at the moment dreaming up my next Uncharted SEALs adventure, and I got to wondering whether you knew I had a previous ex-SEAL series…
It’s a touch on the zany side because, for the heroines, I played with that old fish-out-of-water trope. They are all travel agents, having to check out the new adventure line of vacations they’re offering their clients, when you guess it—$hit happens.
For Maya in Dangerous Liaison, she’s mistaken for a drug lord’s daughter and kidnapped right out of an anti-terrorist training school.
I’ve given you a taste of Lace’s adventure below—her boat’s about to be hijacked for ransom.
And lastly, Susan in It Takes a SEAL is stranded on a desert island with her hunky SEAL.
I had fun with the stories, even more fun with the titles, they are all derived from movie titles. An author has to find the fun or her work would become drudgery. And of course, I say that while I’m sitting in my pajamas with bed head, while I begin my day’s work… It’s okay to hate me. 🙂
Comment for a chance to win Mutiny’s Bounty or a short story on this carousel!
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Interested only in experiencing an adrenaline-packed adventure first-hand to give her credo when she books her clients’ adventure vacations, Lace McElhannon finds more excitement than she can handle when she meets and falls into bed with ex-SEAL Dex Haygood.
Fresh from protecting transport ships from Somali pirates, Dex figures his latest job will be a cakewalk, until he finds himself in deep water, swimming with sharks and trying to protect Lace when the yacht they’re sailing on is taken.
“Sweetheart, the sharks are down there.” Ice blue eyes wrinkled at the corners as the man bending over the side of the olive-green skiff pointed a finger into the clear blue depths beneath her.
Did he think she’d missed seeing the swarm, or flock, or whatever the hell you called a group of freaking sharks? They were busy ripping into the grisly bundle of fish parts and guts the dive crew had dropped to the sea floor in a wire basket—which was why she’d hurried over here.
“Exactly! Like any sane person would purposely swim with sharks?” She let her voice frag, then crimped her lips to keep from saying anything else that made her sound like she was twelve. Lace McElhannon was glad she hadn’t given him a snarky wag of her head while she’d said it. But seriously, who would blame her for being snotty? Great White sharks were swimming thirty feet beneath her toes and he wasn’t doing anything about it! Read the rest of this entry »
For someone with an admittedly short attention span (me), I seem to choose pursuits in life that require an awful lot of perseverance. So today, I’m going to talk about 5 Reasons Writing a Book is Like Climbing a 14er.
For the non-mountaineers reading this, a 14er is a mountain peak above 14,000 feet in altitude. In Colorado, where I live, there are 53 of them. I like hiking in general, but climbing a 14er is not your average scenic hike. We’re talking major elevation gains and decreasing oxygen, people. You have to want this.
At first, it might seem like writing a book—an activity during which you spend a great deal of time with your butt planted in a chair—would not be very much at all like a wilderness excursion requiring considerable physical conditioning.
VS.
But that would be wrong. Here are 5 ways in which these two activities are similar:
#1 Initial excitement of planning/deciding to do it.
Getting an idea for a new book is exciting. You’re full of ideas, planning new characters, imagining what it will be like when it’s done, and you feel powerful. You know it will be work, but the idea is just so good, it will be worth it. Deciding to climb a mountain, and picking which one, is exciting, too. You’re looking at fantastic photographs other hikers have posted, planning which routes will get you there, what physical training you need to do in the meantime, and imagining the sense of achievement when you stand at the top.
#2 At some point, you are going to ask yourself “why am I doing this?”
Every writer I know of has, at some point, looked at what they’ve written and lost hope. For one reason or another (your plot didn’t hold together as well as you initially thought, or the market for your type of story has just tanked, or any number of other writer-related insecurities), you want to abandon the project.
At some point, while hiking a 14er, many hikers (myself included) are out of breath, battered by wind, out of the ideal shape we promised ourselves we’d be in, and looking ahead at the miles yet to climb, thinking, “why did I think this was a good idea?” It would be much easier to just turn around and head back down…
(Note: with hiking, there can be safety concerns that lead to abandoning a hike. Know the difference between perseverance and foolishness. Lightning, in particular, is no joke if you’re above tree line. If a storm is approaching, get to safety. The mountain will still be there another day.)
#3 You keep going anyway.
Even when every sentence is a struggle, you keep writing. You may walk away from the screen for a little while, but you eventually come back and re-attack the project. Maybe you do have to do some editing, and work on your craft. Or maybe you give yourself permission for that first draft to suck miserably, knowing that you can always edit it later. Whatever. You keep writing, because you know that walking away would lead to regrets you don’t want to live with.
Same with 14ers. If you want to make it to the top, you keep planting one foot in front of the other. You rest, drink some water, and Just. Keep. Going.
#4 Comradery
When you summit a 14er with someone, you share a bond with that person forever. The more epic the mountain, the more epic the bond. Hikers also tend to help one another out—it’s the classic man vs. nature struggle, and all men (and women) on the mountain are in it together.
Authors do the same thing—at least, I’ve been fortunate to meet a lot of authors who think it’s important to help each other be the best we can be, whether that means helping a new writer improve her craft, or helping promote a new book you’re excited about.
#5 The Ultimate Accomplishment
There is no feeling that beats the feeling of typing the words “The End.” Except, maybe, the feeling of reaching the summit of a tough 14er. There’s a reason authors shout it from the rooftops when their book hits the shelves (or goes live at Amazon) – they’ve worked for that day. Same reason you’ll see summit photos plastered all over the walls and social media pages of an avid hiker.
It’s also the feeling that makes both writers and hikers bask in the glory for only a short while…because before long, they need to start planning the next book, or the next peak to climb.
Entrusted: A Relic Guardians Novel
To protect her country’s future, she’ll have to commit treason…
ENTRUSTED by Allegra Gray is a stunning historical Young Adult masterpiece of suspense, hope, and determination. This story follows orphaned Audrey as she’s tasked with keeping ancient relics safe from tyrannical hands and their unholy deeds. With the help of a charming adventurer, Tobias, Aubrey must do all she can to protect the relics she’s been entrusted to guard…even if it costs her life. Read the rest of this entry »
I woke up late today. I babysat last night and I’m just a little tired. Add the fact, I didn’t get my swim in yesterday, and the world just doesn’t feel right. So, I’ll make it easy on myself today and do something I love doing when I’m at a Facebook party. You get to do a little bit of work—not much—and I get to sit back and read the fun answers!
Here’s the work…
1) Subscribe to my newsletter and tell me you did (I’ll trust you): My Newsletter
3) This isn’t required, but you can subscribe to my blog by scrolling down the left-hand column of this page, looking for “Subscribe to blog via email”. That way, you’ll never miss a contest or a free read!
In addition to telling me you’ve done the things I’ve asked, answer this question, and then take a look at my Short Stories page to choose one free read (from the top three rows) for yourself…
If you could be magically transported into any television series world,
which would you choose to live inside?
*~*~*
THESE STORIES ARE NOT PART OF THE GIVEAWAY!
However, they are free if you are a Kindle Unlimited subscriber!
If you love hot, sexy SEALs and an adrenaline-pumped story, don’t miss the first three stories in the Uncharted SEALs series, including my latest release, Through Her Eyes.
Click on the covers to learn more and to purchase!
Thank you, Delilah, for having me as your guest today.
Isn’t Fall a wonderful time of year? I’m looking forward to cooler weather. To me, the air thrums with excitement due to so many plans and projects. Writing is my passion, but I love the upcoming holidays.
What’s your favorite thing about Fall? I’m giving away a copy of THE SURPRISE BRIDES: JAMIE to one person who tells me.
Several of us were talking this summer about that old movie “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers” and thought we’d do a spin on it. We didn’t want our historical brides kidnapped and we didn’t want them stranded in a blizzard with no way to marry. So, one of the brothers is a minister. To ease your mind, no, there is no singing in these books. 😉
We have four brothers aged from twenty-two to thirty-two who need brides. At least, their mother thinks they do. (Yeah, all mothers think that, don’t they?) This mother takes matters into her own hands, though. The four mail-order brides arrive in a blizzard that locks everyone on the ranch for almost a week. The mother convinces the four couples to go through with the wedding.
All four stories are filled with conflicts to be overcome. Mine is slightly sensual but not steamy. I believe the other four are the same—the parts I’ve read are. But they are all fun adventures for anyone who enjoys the “fish out of water” of a mail-order bride story.
You probably guessed that my latest project is THE SURPRISE BRIDES: JAMIE, one of four books simultaneously released about four brothers in Angel Springs, Colorado. One determined mama, four reluctant brothers, four mail-order brides. Meet Jamie, Caleb, Gideon and Ethan. Jamie is the eldest brother, a widower with two rowdy young children. These four books are released simultaneously by Cynthia Woolf (Gideon), Callie Hutton (Caleb), Sylvia McDaniel (Ethan), and me (Jamie).
Olivia Stewart risks everything to accomplish her dreams. She’s tired of being pitied because she’s been jilted, tired of teaching other people’s children without any of her own. When she signs with a matrimonial agency, a letter from Jamie Fraser sounds perfect. A widower with two young children will give her a head start on the family she’s determined to have. Olivia learns Colorado holds surprises that endanger her goals and even her life.
Circle F Rancher Jamie Fraser is shocked to learn his mother has written for a mail-order bride for him. He has two children and no plan to marry again. Ever! His late wife taught him women can’t be trusted. Even his beloved mother isn’t above tricking her sons to achieve her heartfelt ambitions. Now he’s stuck with a wife he didn’t want—a stubborn woman bent on changing his home and his life.
Can two strong people at odds achieve happiness? Angel Springs, Colorado is a small town that inspires big dreams. Olivia and Jamie just might find their dreams meld to form a powerful and enduring love.
THE SURPRISE BRIDES: JAMIE buy link at Amazon is: http://amzn.com/B015272I3W where it’s available in print and e-book. It’s also available at other online retailers.
Here’s a short excerpt:
That night when Olivia and Jamie were in their room, she slowly undressed. All day she’d thought about what she would say. How naïve to think she could trust this man so easily. How stupid she’d been not to ask more questions before surrendering to him.
Somehow, she had the sense of having been cheated in the marriage bed. She had no real experience to go on because she had no one in whom she could confide. Judging by the novels she’d read, though, there should have been talk after their coming together.
She faced him. “Jamie, why did you go through with the wedding?”
He sat on the bed holding the boot he’d just removed then set it on the floor. “No choice.”
What a maddening answer. She wanted to plant her fist on his handsome chin. Instead, she took a deep breath before speaking and exhaled slowly.
“Of course you had a choice. You’re the head of the family and could have refused and sent me back where I came from or set me up in town so I could meet someone else. Barring that, you could have paid me off and sent me to Denver. There’s always a choice.”
He shook his head as he started on his shirt buttons. “Not in this case. Any of those options would have caused talk. After you’d been here several nights, your reputation would have been compromised.”
“If I weren’t here, why would that matter to you?”
His hands stilled. “Ah, well, because Mama’s reputation would also have been damaged, as she pointed out to us boys.” He removed his shirt and hung it on the bedpost.
As she unfastened the ties of her petticoats, a horrible thought occurred to her and she froze. “Do you mean you don’t want more children?”
His powerful chest muscles rolled with a shrug. “Wouldn’t mind, now that we’re wed, but I was content with Jake and Cat. Matter of fact, earlier today I mentioned how nice life would be with us brothers taking our kids to visit with their cousins.” He stood and unbuttoned his pants.
She turned her back and slid off her clothes then quickly pulled on her gown. “Weren’t you lonely?”
Her back was to him and she couldn’t see his expression, but his voice sounded hard, “Look, Olivia, you seem like a nice enough woman, attractive, and intelligent. Sorry as I am you were brought here under false pretences, I don’t know what you expected to find.”
Again, she froze for a moment. Attractive? He thought she was attractive? When she turned around, he was sitting up in bed with the sheet at his hips. How could she concentrate on the conversation with all those rippling muscles and skin in sight?
Caroline Clemmons is an Amazon bestselling and award winning author of historical and contemporary western romances. A frequent speaker at conferences and seminars, she has taught workshops on characterization, point of view, and layering a novel.
Caroline and her husband live in the heart of Texas cowboy country with their menagerie of rescued pets. When she’s not indulging her passion for writing, Caroline enjoys family, reading, travel, antiquing, genealogy, and getting together with friends. Find her on her blog, website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Google+, Shelfari, and Pinterest.
Who loves a good knight in shining armor tale? Or maybe an overlord who’s domineering, who has a friend who’s a bit of a smartass? What sort of woman would attract them both? I “heart” Gisele big-time! She’s tart, smart and lusty.
Well, this is my latest “new-old” story—one I recently got back the rights for. I gave it a polish and my sister made a pretty cover for me, and here it is. I hope you enjoy this peak inside…
Are you a fan of medieval tales? Are they something
you’d like to see more of from me?
Gisele, “The Witch of Grimoult”, has ended a long vow of celibacy, taken to ensure her independence from any man. Her new lover, Tibor the sheriff, isn’t any real threat because his reputation assures her he won’t be a possessive man. He’s lusty and charming, but the last thing he wants is to saddle himself with one woman.
When a wolf threatens her livelihood, she seeks aid from the new “Lord Grim”, never anticipating his price will be a night in his bed. What’s a woman to do? Lord Grim’s possessive stare and fierce loving make her crave his mastery of her body. But then, the wolf injures the sheriff, Gisele and Lord Grim pull together to save him from becoming a monster.
Gisele had heard the new Lord Grimoult was a mountain of a man, strong and courageous in battle and wise as Solomon in his judgments. Which was exactly why she’d come—for protection and justice.
What she hadn’t heard was that he could leave a woman trembling and damp with one searing glance.
The moment his gaze lifted from the scroll spread over the table in front of him, she forgot how to breathe. When the room began to teeter, she drew a deep breath to steady herself and stepped over the threshold into his chamber, all the while scolding herself sternly for the lapse.
What was one devilishly handsome man?
He was flanked at the oak table by another sinfully attractive specimen—one she’d easily resisted a second time after their late-night tryst. She’d sent the sheriff on his way after the wolf had already done its damage.
Just as dark, just as well made, the sheriff had never sent her belly into quivers or caused her nipples to sprout against her gown just from a look.
Perhaps it was the power Lord “Grim” embodied—his will ruled everyone within this demesne, including her. Certainly, her arousal had nothing to do with the thick, black hair that fell in heavy coils to his muscled shoulders. Her interest couldn’t be piqued by the moustache and beard framing a lush mouth any woman would envy. The dark brows casting deep shadows over eyes as black as a moonless sky at midnight weren’t the cause of her fluttering heartbeat or the sinking feeling that quickly swamped her with unwanted reminders she’d remained celibate for far too long. One night with the handsome sheriff hadn’t quenched her need.
She was nervous—that was all. And perhaps primed for arousal by her wicked romp the previous night.
Hopefully, it was just the lure of the unknown. When she learned the new master’s true nature, he would be as easily dismissed from her thoughts as every man she’d ever encountered, including the sheriff.
But she must find his faults and quickly. If she could happen upon the one that would render his appeal null, she’d fare better in the long run. The sheriff had drawn her eye when he’d first taken up his duty—he was handsome and dark like she preferred. Yet she’d catalogued his physical and character flaws to firm her resistance against his beauty. His hair wasn’t a deep, dark chestnut—it was closer to the color of the mud beneath her sheep trough. His eyes weren’t as green as spring grass—they were more like the sludgy moss that grew at the bottom of her well bucket. And she’d cleaned it thoroughly to remove the ugly sludge—just as she had her attraction to the sheriff—after she’d satisfied her carnal curiosity.
Ballocks! The sheriff had caught her staring and no doubt noted her scowl. His sly smile deepened, and he sat back in his chair as though waiting for the entertainment to begin.
Did he think he knew her well enough to surmise her attraction to their overlord?
Gisele stepped deeper into the lord’s chamber just as his steward bent to whisper in his ear.
Again, Lord Grim’s glance sliced through her, and the room began to spin—or were her knees wobbling? Whichever was true, she drew another deep breath and cursed the fact this was the man she’d come to beg a boon. He was too large, too imposing—and far too handsome for her not to stare and stutter in his presence. Even seated, with only his upper body visible, she knew his height and breadth would dwarf her slender frame. And she preferred large men.
“The witch, sire,” the steward said, his lip curling in distaste. “She insisted on speaking with you. Egbert was afraid to deny her entrance lest she curse him with pox. I tried to dissuade her, but she was quite insistent.”
She chafed at the idiot’s derision. Like so many in the demesne, she was welcomed only when her cures were needed. At all other times, she was reviled—even feared. Yet the new lord’s expression held only curiosity as his gaze slipped from her face to her breasts and lower.
Gisele unclenched her hands, which were buried in the folds of her gown and forced them to relax at her sides. She did her best to ignore the heat that singed every place his gaze touched and tried to remember the chill autumn wind that had cut through her gown on the trek here.
Growing more nervous by the moment, she wanted to say her piece and be gone. His lordship would grant her request—or not. The sooner she quit this place the better. She’d never felt so unlike herself as she did standing there, waiting on this man’s indulgence.
“Come forward, mistress,” Lord Grim said, with an impatient wave.
His voice was a smooth, deep rumble that seduced the hairs on her arms and neck to lift, as easily as he must seduce the servant girls to raise their skirts.
She approached him, pride keeping her steps purposeful and her back straight as a post. Thank goodness the state of her stomach wasn’t as visible. The closer she drew to his dark, intense stare, the deeper the shivers that crept down her spine. She tightened her thighs to stem the moisture gathering between her legs.
She curled her hands tighter to prevent reaching up to smooth back her wild hair. So he’d see what a mess it always was—it was but one flaw among many. The preeminent one being her station in this small keep. She was already deemed a hag due to her talent with herbs and the gift that flowed from her hands.
His gaze rose to her face, unwavering, discomposing. Her steps faltered as she drew to a halt, but luckily her long skirts hid the misstep. At the last moment, she curtsied, bowing her head in deference.
“You’ve come with a petition?”
“I have, milord,” she said, cursing the breathless quality of her voice, but she really couldn’t help it. He must be accustomed to women swooning so her slight betrayal of composure should be unnoticeable.
Except the corners of his perfect mouth crimped upward. “Would you like to take a seat?”
Her eyes widened. Sit in his presence? At his table? Even the steward looked askance at his overlord. Did he think her clumsy due to infirmity? She drew a deep breath pulling her affront around her like a cloak. Damnation, but he wasn’t going to make a fool of her. “Thank you, no, sire. I prefer to stand.”
“Your petition,” he reminded her.
Caught for a moment staring into his black eyes, she blurted, “Yes. Um, I’ve come on a grave matter, milord.” Then she frantically searched her mind for her purpose. Good lord, he’d addled her brain.
He sighed. “Take your time.”
“Wolves,” she sputtered, blushing. “A wolf damaged my sheep pen and frightened them into injuring themselves in their enclosure. One is dead. No doubt the sheriff has already told you about the attack.”
The sheriff and his lordship shared a glance then turned back to her, no hint of their thoughts in their shuttered expressions.
“You said wolves?” Lord Grim asked, his voice so calm it piqued her interest.
“I saw only one wolf, sire.” Never would she admit she’d misspoken due to her unease.
His head canted as though the answer to her question held his entire focus. “And you’re certain there’s only one?”
“I saw only one. I don’t know whether there are others.”
“A lone rogue,” the sheriff murmured.
Lord Grim shrugged, giving away nothing of his thoughts. “Perhaps.”
Gisele grew impatient with the questioning. They didn’t appear ready to act quickly. “I demand you do something about it,” she said, more forcefully than she’d intended. “And I would like recompense for my loss.”
“Demand?”
Her chin rose, and despite the fact she knew she must seem anything but deferent to his rank, she stared him straight in the eye. “As you serve your overlord and expect his protection and support in return, so do I serve you and expect the same. Your man,” she said, nodding toward the sheriff, “was keeping watch last night when the sheep was killed.”
“Yes, Tibor was keeping watch, wasn’t he?” the lord said, giving the sheriff a narrowed glance while his fingers drummed the table.
“She refuses to move inside the bailey until we’ve taken care of the problem, milord,” the steward said, sniffing. “I say, she takes her own chances.”
“I’d like to get back to the matter of service,” came the sheriff’s sly murmur.
I recently heard of a study where women were shown 75 pictures of men, and they overwhelmingly agreed it was a guy’s smile that called to them. Now, I’m not sure if these were only headshots being viewed or if the women responding were just being PC ;-), but I will boldly admit that the first thing I notice is a man’s chest. Given the mass quantities of bare-chested photos posted to Facebook pages, I’m inclined to think I’m not alone here!
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