How About A Kiss?

The other day, I saw a movie. Whoa, you say, this is not earth shattering news here. I watch movies all the time. So much so that, in the older movies especially, I can spout a lot of trivia. But, I digress. In this movie, there was a scene where the heroine practiced for a date. She watched her movements in the mirror, talked to herself, checked out how she looked during conversation, smiled, flirted and kissed the back of her hand. All to practice.

This got me to thinking - a scary proposition on a good day. Plus, I was probably sleep deprived much as I am right now. Have I lost you? Are you still with Me? Oh, good, because you'll be asked to participate later on. So, anyways, that movie brought back a flood of old memories for me.

All of us receive our first kiss from our mother and, a wild guess here, our second kiss we get from our father. Nice. We rock along through the years being kissed by our grandparents, aunts, uncles and siblings. In this last case, the sibling kiss is dreaded and only given/received under duress by direct orders from the mother or parental unit. We've all heard at one time or another, "Kiss your brother/sister right now and tell him/her you're sorry. You know you love each other." I can't tell you how many times in those formative years, I would've rather taken a beating than to have kissed that chubby cheek. Love him now, back then it depended on the day. <G>

What I'm really talking about is that first boy/girl kiss. My first one came from the boy who lived next door to my grandmother. His name was Mike (first names only given here). We became fast friends the summer I was eight and he was a much older ten. We always played Gunsmoke in his front yard. He was the very handsome, Matt Dillon, I, of course was, Miss Kitty, and my brother was either Chester or the villain depending on which part was needed at the time. Mike played the roll of the sheriff very well and saved me multiple times, so naturally I received many kisses from my first hero. We became so close he wrote me a letter after his family moved away. That letter had smoochy lips, professed I love yous and a Dime Store diamond. Yes, Matt Dillon asked me to marry him. My mother nearly hyperventilated.

My second kiss came during a multi-family get-together. My parents bowled on several leagues back in the early sixties and on weekends they would have parties at the various houses. While the parents played cards, dominoes or listened to party records, us kids were relegated to the back rooms. The one evening that stands out in my mind was in winter and school was in full swing. A couple of girls and myself were thirteen, a couple girls were freshmen in high school and Rusty was also a freshman. He was tall, cute and we were giggly and we were playing spin the bottle. My knees turned to jelly when he kissed me. I made gagging noises as was expected, but  being kissed by a freshman football player - yowza!

For a few years after that, I did a lot of practicing. Unfortunately, I didn't kiss anyone else until I met my future husband. Was he the brave one? The stupid one? He says he'll never again pick up a girl at the A&P. Well, duh. There's simply no need, is there?

Ok, that's my story. Here's where your participation is needed. Tell us about your first kiss. We're all dying to hear your tale.

Thanks for stopping by today and hope I sparked some good memories,
Carra

 Amazon Author Page 

GIVE US A KISS

The other day, I saw a movie. Whoa, you say, this is not earth shattering news here. I watch movies all the time. So much so that, in the older movies especially, I can spout a lot of trivia. But, I digress. In this movie, there was a scene where the heroine practiced for a date. She watched her movements in the mirror, talked to herself, checked out how she looked during conversation, smiled, flirted and kissed the back of her hand. All to practice.

This got me to thinking - a scary proposition on a good day. Plus, I was probably sleep deprived much as I am right now. Have I lost you? Are you still with Me? Oh, good, because you'll be asked to participate later on. So, anyways, that movie brought back a flood of old memories for me.

All of us receive our first kiss from our mother and, a wild guess here, our second kiss we get from our father. Nice. We rock along through the years being kissed by our grandparents, aunts, uncles and siblings. In this last case, the sibling kiss is dreaded and only given/received under duress by direct orders from the mother or parental unit. We've all heard at one time or another, "Kiss your brother/sister right now and tell him/her you're sorry. You know you love each other." I can't tell you how many times in those formative years, I would've rather taken a beating than to have kissed that chubby cheek. Love him now, back then it depended on the day. <G>

What I'm really talking about is that first boy/girl kiss. My first one came from the boy who lived next door to my grandmother. His name was Mike (first names only given here). We became fast friends the summer I was eight and he was a much older ten. We always played Gunsmoke in his front yard. He was the very handsome, Matt Dillon, I, of course was, Miss Kitty, and my brother was either Chester or the villain depending on which part was needed at the time. Mike played the roll of the sheriff very well and saved me multiple times, so naturally I received many kisses from my first hero. We became so close he wrote me a letter after his family moved away. That letter had smoochy lips, professed I love yous and a Dime Store diamond. Yes, Matt Dillon asked me to marry him. My mother nearly hyperventilated.

My second kiss came during a multi-family get-together. My parents bowled on several leagues back in the early sixties and on weekends they would have parties at the various houses. While the parents played cards, dominoes or listened to party records, us kids were relegated to the back rooms. The one evening that stands out in my mind was in winter and school was in full swing. A couple of girls and myself were thirteen, a couple girls were freshmen in high school and Rusty was also a freshman. He was tall, cute and we were giggly and we were playing spin the bottle. My knees turned to jelly when he kissed me. I made gagging noises as was expected, but  being kissed by a freshman football player - yowza!

For a few years after that, I did a lot of practicing. Unfortunately, I didn't kiss anyone else until I met my future husband. Was he the brave one? The stupid one? He says he'll never again pick up a girl at the A&P. Well, duh. There's simply no need, is there?

Ok, that's my story. Here's where your participation is needed. Tell us about your first kiss. We're all dying to hear your tale.

Thanks for stopping by today and hope you got a chuckle or two,
Carra


  

Recipe For A Hero

Sleight of Heart 

How Characters Come Alive

How many of you grew up watching Westerns on television? I sure did! Well, the good ones came on after my bedtime, so I listened to most of them—Gunsmoke, Have Gun – Will Travel, Bonanza, Cheyenne (I love Clint Walker’s voice!  Okay, so I liked to look at him, too). But one show I did get to see was Maverick, and the lovable cardsharp played by James Garner, Bret Maverick, is one of the best bad boy charmers ever created. No one can top it, in my opinion.

Growing up on a dairy farm isn’t exactly exciting, but it’s a wonderful setting for a kid with an overactive imagination, especially fueled by the movies and television shows of the time. All my stories have sprung from this fertile ground, and I doubt the ideas will ever run dry. I hope not! As of now, I’d have to live to be about 450 to get all my story ideas written.

Even after all these years, Maverick’s easy charm and smiles in the face of danger has never left me—or a lot of us, judging from comments on my blog. So when the leading lady character came to me, a heroine based on my aunt Grace’s incredible math abilities, it hit me that she needed a bad boy charmer to loosen her up a bit (my heroine, not Aunt Grace—she was a hoot!). You know who that is!

Recipe for a hero: Take one Maverick, add in a little Remington Steele. Blend. Maybe throw in a little James Bond (shake, don’t stir), and mix in some of my dad’s unique brand of humor. Go off half-baked, and there you have it.

Along about the time Sleight of Heart was taking shape, I read George Devol’s Forty Years a Gambler on the Mississippi for another project. Not only is Devol’s book a great how-to for a thoroughbred gambler, it’s a fantastic character study—mostly because of what he doesn’t say. A lot of Burke O’Shaughnessy’s outlook on life came from that book.

So there you have it. Once the characters are solid and the situation is crazy enough, the author has to get out of the way and let the Muse go to work. Believe me, sometimes it’s quite a ride.

I’m planning a series of novellas in the High-Stakes Heroes series to follow up Sleight of Heart. The heroes are named and a few of the stories are solidifying in the mysterious corners of my mind, so watch for those in late 2014.

For more western historical romance, try my Hearts of Owyhee series. These books are all set in Owyhee [oh-WY-hee] County, Idaho Territory, in the mid 1880s. The county was named after some Hawaiian fur trappers were lost there, and never found, in the 1820s. Owyhee is the original anglicized spelling of Hawaii.

And whoever agrees with me that Clint Walker was the most handsome cowboy ever, and James Garner was the most charming gambler ever--okay, so you don't have to agree, but you better have good reason--you'll be entered to win a Kindle copy of any of my books.  Winner will be drawn Oct. 8th (because I'll be gone over the weekend--it's our wedding anniversary!).