August 9, 2013

Friday Flames is Worth the Risk

Welcome to Friday Flames!

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Sizzling heat. Clenched teeth. Desire beyond reason...or rationale.

It's not easy to write a scene that captures your reader's imagination and attention. To hold them in a grip so tight...they go up in flames.

I want you to share your Smoking Hot scene, the one that sends the reader...up in flames. Don't forget your buy links!!

It doesn't have to be graphic, tension can increase the pounding of our blood. Lead us to the moment, keep us hanging by a thread.

To start it off, here's a snippet from Anne Lange, a contemporary erotic romance author, and her book:


This is a promotional image only, and not the official cover.


Even the hottest sex might not be enough to ease the pain of the past…
Molly Simpson arrives at a beautiful provincial park, ready to spend the May Two-Four holiday camping with friends. This weekend is the highlight of her year—or it was, until Tanner Daivies showed up. Her high school crush is all grown up, sexy as sin, and he’s demanding answers—answers Molly isn’t sure she can give him. She had her reasons for leaving him all those years ago, but now, sex with Tanner is scorching, and when they’re together, it’s clear they were never meant to be apart. But the past doesn’t want to stay buried, and Molly isn’t sure reliving it is worth the risk…


He groaned. “You’re wet.”
Her cheeks heated at his observation. His tenderness overwhelmed her as he eased a finger inside, leisurely pumping it in and out. Pleasure zinged along her nerves. When he withdrew, she mewled at the loss until he slid a tiny bit higher to tap her clitoris.
Gasping, a wave of sensation rolled through her body, and she jerked her hips, seeking more. He rubbed her clit, round and round in tiny circles. She tensed her thighs, the tingles of an impending orgasm blossoming. He stopped, kneeling back to peel her jeans off. As he stood to remove his own clothes, she contemplated his body. Her breath caught in awe every time. At twenty-two, he was in his prime—big, muscular, and strong. Her fingers itched to trace the contours of his hard stomach.
Her gaze travelled lower. He threw his clothing aside and put a condom over his straining erection. His hands shook.
You’d think this was their first time.
Straddling her hips, he sank to his knees. Lowering to settle his body over hers, he supported his weight on his forearms. At the moment of impact, skin to skin, a tremor rolled through her. The hair on his legs tickled. He pressed the warmth of his chest against her breasts. The hard length of his cock rested hot and heavy against her sex. She quivered. In his arms, she was complete.
His eyes glowed with passion. He placed soft kisses on the side of her neck, her collarbone, and the tip of each breast, sliding his body lower, making his way down her stomach to her belly button. He dipped his tongue in and swirled it around. A sensual shiver danced over her skin.
Grasping her hips in both hands, he continued his journey. He shimmied until his shoulders were wedged tight between her thighs. Then he stopped. Hot little puffs of air tickled her exposed flesh. She glanced down her body. Tanner lay there, staring at her intimate parts. She remembered the embarrassment she’d felt the first time he’d gone down on her. It hadn’t taken long before it turned to exquisite torture and then mind-numbing bliss, something she anticipated each time they made love.
She heard him exhale as he placed the lightest of kisses on her clit, a butterfly touch at first, barely there. Tease. He applied the smallest amount of pressure, and she groaned. He swiped his tongue down through her slit, and back up, capturing the cream that flowed free.
“God, you taste good.”
She couldn’t resist. “You work in the restaurant business, and the only word you can come up with to describe taste is good? Not very impressive.”

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Author BIO

Anne Lange grew up with a love of reading. In fact, if you take a close look, she’s got a book with her where ever she goes, and will usually sneak in at least a chapter or ten whenever she can spare a few minutes. She reads many genres of fiction, but prefers to write sexy romance with attractive men, strong females, and always a happily ever after.
While embarking on a career as a romance author, Anne juggles a full time job and a family. She grew up in Southern Ontario (Canada), but now makes her home in Eastern Ontario where she lives with her husband and three children, and Rocky the bearded dragon. 

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Post those sexy excerpts and let's HEAT IT UP!


  1. Thanks for the opportunity to share my sexy scene with you, Sheri!

    1. And sexy it is!! Thank you so much for being my special guest today, Anne.

  2. Wow, Anne! That was some scene!

    Here's mine - maybe not quite as scorching, but it's got its own charm, I hope...

    The really amazing thing is that it still fits. It’s not quite as perfect a fit as it was seven years ago – like they say about the overhead bins on an airplane, “contents may shift during flight.” But – if this is bragging, so be it – they haven’t shifted that much! I could have bought something new, but that day seven years ago was very special, and I think it’ll mean just as much to Brian as it does to me that I kept my “naughty nighttime” set all this time.

    I quickly change and put my bathrobe on – why deny Brian the pleasure of unwrapping his surprise? I’ve just tied the robe closed when he knocks on the door. I open it, and as he comes in, I reach around and hang the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the doorknob before I pull the door closed.

    I don’t know if he notices or not; he’s looking into my eyes, the way only he does, and I throw my arms around him. “Did I mention how much I missed you?” he asks, before he kisses me.
    My legs are barely holding me up; I’m hanging onto him for support. “I think you might have,” I answer. I feel so warm, and my whole body is tingling. He sees the champagne, and I let him lead me over to it. “Yeah, I need your help with that.” He doesn’t need to be told twice; he takes the bottle, and a moment later the cork pops, shooting off into the corner somewhere. The glasses are – naturally – on the table next to the bed, and he fills both of them up.

    “Here’s to the man I love,” I say, toasting him. Our glasses clink.

    “And the woman I love,” he says, taking a sip. “Now I see why you didn’t have any wine. You do know how to surprise me.”

    Liar! “Was it really a surprise?”

    He tries to say “yes” with a straight face but he can’t manage it. “I thought you might be up to something.”

    We sit down together on the bed, drinking our champagne, his arm around me. He sniffs. “Is that lavender?” I nod. “The bottle I bought you for your birthday?” Of course. He buries his face in my neck, kisses – oh, God! I – I – I – I’m panting – I feel – there aren’t words. How does he do that to me?

    I don’t know how I didn’t drop my glass. I finish my champagne in one swallow, stand up. I motion as though I’m trying to untie my robe, and grunt theatrically.

    “What’s wrong?”

    “I guess I knotted it too tightly,” I say with what I think is a coy smile. “Can you help me?” He gets up, reaches over to the tie, but his eyes are on mine. He knows perfectly well I didn’t knot it too tightly. I’m holding his gaze, as he pulls the tie open. In one motion I pull my arms out of the sleeves and let the robe fall off my shoulders.
    His eyes dart downward and when he sees what he’s uncovered, he catches his breath. My heart is beating so fast I don’t know how it’s still in my chest. I look down and I see my necklace, the perfect emerald necklace he gave me for our first Christmas together, bouncing up and down rapidly in time with my breathing.
    Still, somehow, my voice is perfectly even when I speak. “You remember.” He grabs me, and with the feel of his hand on the bare skin of my back, my heart seems to go from a thousand beats a minute to a dead stop – along with everything else in the world except for him. His eyes rise up to meet mine again, and mine go to meet his. I take a step back, and now I’m standing against the bed, our eyes still locked, his hands caressing me. My heart hasn’t started back up.

    “I could never forget,” he breathes. Eyes wide open, I kiss him, wrap my arms around him. I lean back, onto the bed, and I pull him down on top of me.

    “I want you to remind me…”

    (I remembered the link this week!)

    1. Yay! James is back!! Another great scene. Steamy can be what leads up to whatever comes next, often left to our imagination. Excellent post. Thank you!!

  3. Anne, your scene was blazing! Your book sounds fantastic!


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