Here is a random extract from the beginning of In Memoriam: The Lost Soul – part of the prologue:
I can’t say THE love of my life, because that would mean that now that I know that you’re gone, hope has died forever. I’m too young for that and all you ever wanted was for me to be happy.
But for a while, you WERE the love of my life. I breathed you from morning till night even though your body was rarely with me.
I would wake in the mornings thinking that today I would see you, and if not today, then tomorrow.
And so I was able to get up, I was able to get dressed and go about my day.
Then – there you were. Today you were able to come. Tomorrow is finally today.
I feel my face light up with joy and for a moment I stand still and look at you, just to drink you in. Then I’m in your arms. They’re strong and I feel the life force refuel me.
We kiss, with passion, with abandon. For now, for an hour or two our world has shrunk to this room.
We talk, we love, we laugh. You tell me you love me and I can show you all the love that I have bottled up since I last saw you.
And then, always too soon, it’s over and you’re a memory again.
For many years you gave me what you could. You gave me a harbour where I could escape from the turmoil of my early life, a life in which you didn’t exist, a life in which there was only strife and hate, petty war and mighty spats, a life in which I was nothing and made to feel even less.
Yes, you gave me hope and sanity and touch.
You saw me and appreciated that I was me.
You touched my lost soul.
You helped me find it.
And for that, I loved you from the bottom of my heart and with all of my lost soul.
Here is a random extract from later in the book:
His kiss remains light and controlled, but his hands are increasingly frantic as they search for entry into her clothing. He is rewarded with the hem of her shirt, which he pulls up. With a sigh he splays his hands on her back. He absorbs her heat, totally still for a moment, giving her time to catch up with him. .
When her hands start to move very slowly, sliding towards his waistband, his heart sings. He has not put her off. She starts responding to his kiss. Her hands gently, carefully pull at his shirt until there is enough room to slip them in and touch his back.
He breaks the kiss and leans back enough to allow his hands to slide to her sides caressing her from her hips to her ribcage. When his palm first makes contact with the outside of her breast, a moan escapes her.
He can see the startled desire in her eyes.
Lightening his grip, he moves his hands until he cups and lifts her unfettered breasts. Simultaneously, his thumbs come up to brush across her nipples. Her head drops back pushing her lower body into his erection, which is painfully trapped.
Her breasts are soft and mobile, a perfect fit for his hands – not too small and not too big. He teases them until the rock-hard pebbles of her nipples are drilling holes into his palms.
Only a moment ago, he thought that touching her like this, feeling her response, would keep him satisfied forever.
It is already not enough.
He needs to see!