The hand that takes my hand is the one that rocks my world.

Okay, that sounded less crass in my mind. Point being: Today is my twelfth anniversary. Yay!

It means that I'm still cleaning and cleaning until the husband gets home. That's significantly less yay. That's more of a "BOO. Rubbish. Filthy. Slime. Muck!"

It's freakishly cold here again today. There are rumors of snow. Snow! I saw them spraying salt water on the roads. Yesterday it got up above freezing though--by two degrees. Pathetic. Sooo cold. Too cold.

I've been busy writing Honor Seven when I'm not cleaning. Okay, so--having this be the one before they get married and from Reeve's point of view--uhh--it's steamy. There aren't any actual words that I couldn't say in front of my mother, but--on the whole--and due to duration of such scenes. Yeah. Steamy. I think I really need to get something out of my system--the husband will appreciate that. I'm not sure I can pass this along to my teenage beta reader, but I don't know. There is absolutely no graphic language. Still, there is much kissing and wanting--lots of hot-blooded, carnal, sweet need. Lust. Lust on a stick to be enjoyed. Mmm. It's yummy, and I suspect that's bad--but it's hard to say. They're still waiting until they're married, but it's definitely getting more difficult. It reminds me a little of being engaged to the husband. Hot, carnal, sweet need, baby. Lots of it. Mmm.

Okay, yeah, I have so stuff to get out of my system. Thankfully, my sister is coming to pick up the kids and take them back to her house for the night. Sisters are so wonderful that way. Husbands are so wonderful for hot, carnal, sweet loving. I should go eat some Frosting and get to cleaning.

Anyone care to weigh in on how much steam without action is allowed in your mind for a fourteen year old?

Okay, you get an excerpt. This is from Without Honor. For those that have never read any of it, Reeve made a pledge to do whatever Honor asks, and they can't change that. He's a vampire and she's a Shadow Hunter. My version of vampire is closer to a guardian role. They rarely drink blood and it's not for sustenance or pleasure. So, here is an excerpt from a longer scene--yes, a scene that is similar in heat. Did I go too far? Opinions. I'm going to send along the full scene to Jaime for an opinion on the heat level. I like it--but I'm starting to wonder if I just really need "action"--especially since I keep adding to it. Mmm... action... yummy.

“Reeve.” She pulled me on top of her. We both moaned as my weight settled on top of hers, and our bodies just seemed to match—like a puzzle piece sliding into place. Her hands pulled at my back, kneading, tugging, and tightening. ‘Closer,’ she whispered in my head.

I tried. I really tried.

‘We shouldn’t,’ I said, while my hand slid underneath her to try to get her closer. It wasn’t just the pledge enforcing a want. By the winds, I wanted, needed, and intended to make her mine in every sense of the word. Mine. I’d never wanted to possess anything as much as I wanted to possess Honor. It was making me a jealous fool at times.

‘I want…,’ Honor said, moaning as kissed her neck. She couldn’t finish that sentence. My muscles stiffened at the word—the pledge was much, much stronger than any will I had to resist on this subject.

‘The blood bond,’ I reminded her.

‘Mmm. I love you, Reeve,’ she said. Her words almost incited the same response as the pledge would have.

Control. I needed to regain control of myself.

‘I love your hair,’ she said, sliding her hands into it. ‘Shiny. I love shiny silver.’

‘It’s the same color as Tuck,’ I said, covering her mouth with mine.

‘I love you more than Tuck.’

‘I love you more than anything,’ I replied, and I was grateful for the mental bond that allowed me to say such true but emotionally motivated words in our heads. I could just imagine the mimicry of the other Brethren we’d be hearing otherwise.

Her hands slid down my back, leaving tingling warmth in their trail.

‘Your body is yummy,’ she said.

The imagery of oral interest juxtaposed with my body was too much. My control was slipping—dissolving in desire. My skin felt hyper aware of the slim, beautiful curves beneath me. Throbbing heat flushed every point of intersection of our skin.

No. Control. I needed control. Too fast. Too soon. Too much.

I rolled her back on top. I was having a hard time remembering why we wanted to wait, and what was wrong with the floor after all.

A moment later, Thor stood at the top of the stairs and said, “Reeve, send Honor and her nimble little fingers up here.” I was grateful that three hundred feet of stairs and a closed door prevented Honor from hearing that—and the raucous laughter that followed.

They would all be tripped before the day was over.

I needed to stop. We needed to stop. This shouldn’t happen on the floor anyway. I intended for it to happen far away from the prying ears of the Brethren. Honor’s heartbeat gave away my desire as much as her own. It was pounding—and the sound stroked the ego I hadn’t known I possessed.