Friday Hot couples in fiction and the guest author is Elizabeth Morgan

Welcome Elizabeth,

Thank you, Elodie, for having me over. It’s lovely to be here.
What makes a couple hot? The stolen moments.
Well, to me it doesn’t matter if the couple are smoking hot physically, or if they have naughty natures, it is all about the stolen moments, whether they are tender, or sensual.
Edward Scissorhands, Bram Stokers: Dracula, Dirty Dancing, and Jane Eyre. These four films – or stories – where what originally kicked start my love of romance. Yes, they are a random selection, and I love each story for different reasons, but it was the little moments between the heroes and heroines that always made my young heart flutter.
Lingering touches, secret smiles, glances . . . the need to stick close by to one another, or find a reason to stay within each other’s presence.
I mean sure, some characters have crazy chemistry which blows up the page, or screen, from the first moment, and then with others it is a slow process that has us sitting on the edge of our seats. But personally, for me it is all about those stolen moments, because each and every one of them is a link in a chain that is going to lead up to a passionate first kiss, or maybe more.
It kills me to watch a film or program and see the hero or heroine staring at their interest, watching them when no one else is looking. I supposed it is the thrill of knowing how one or both, of the characters feel and the building anticipation of the moment they confess to one another. You want them to hook up, but at the same time the chase – no matter how torturous it may be – is too exquisite to rush. Every intimate moment has your heart racing because you as the viewer/reader know what these characters want, and you want it too.
Oh, how it kills me, but I love them, and it doesn’t even matter how those moments come about.
For example, the excerpt I am sharing with you today is a somewhat odd yet intimate moment between the hero and heroine from my paranormal novel, “Cranberry Blood.” The situation they are currently in isn’t ideal, and what is taking part in the scene is a little on the funny and gross side, but it is still a moment, and one that sends a little shiver down my spine every time I read it.
Brendan, is a moody werewolf sent to help and protect, Heather, who is a stubborn vampire slayer with a bad addiction. They have a love/hate relationship full of sarcasm, and snarling, and humor, and well, let’s just say they have got some journey ahead of them, and I am looking forward to each moment they have until they finally explode.
~ * ~

Cranberry Blood:
Killing Vampires? Easy. Tracking someone? Simple. Helping, and protecting a Vampire slayer . . . . Bloody hard work!
Thirteen years ago, Brendan Daniels made a deal with a psychic. In exchange for information on the whereabouts of a Rogue Werewolf, he promised to help and protect Sofia's granddaughter. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he was letting himself, or his Pack, in for.
Nothing about Heather is simple, from her weird dietary needs to her life’s mission. The girl can handle herself, but the promise to protect her soon becomes a need, and one that he can't fully understand.
Vampire Slayer. Born Infected. Blood addict . . . but not by choice.
Heather Ryan is the current Slayer in a long family line. Like all before her, she has spent her life searching for her ancestor, Marko Pavel, the Vampire her family has sworn to kill. If that isn't complicated enough, Heather is also a born "Infected" and to keep her from becoming insane or giving in to her darker side, she is on a very strict diet.
Now that her Grandmother Sofia has passed, it is up to Heather to take the family legacy into her own hands; Or at least, it would have been, if her Grandmother hadn't sent a Werewolf to help her.
What is the irritating Brendan supposed to help her with? Sofia never told either of them. Luckily, it doesn't take long for Heather and Brendan to find out that the Vampires have big plans, and that the Vamps have waited a long time for them both.

Buy the book: 
~ * ~
"So where did you disappear to, anyway?" I asked, standing straight.
"I went in the front way. I thought it would be best to cause a distraction, so you had less to deal with and could concentrate on Luca."
Concentrating on Luca had turned out to be more disturbing than I had hoped it would be. I shuddered as I remembered Luca's naked body pressed against mine, his erection stabbing my thigh, his saliva sticking to my skin. Then there had been the human's blood, so close to my mouth . . . . I am totally having a bleach bath tonight.
"And you thought I had a bad idea?" I asked, quickly changing the subject.
"Walking into a building with roughly ten or more Vampires is a suicide mission for one, Slayer—"
"Please don't start that helpless Slayer shite. It might be hard to believe, but I know what I am doing, this isn't the first time I have—"
"You're grieving, and you're still recovering from your last two hunts. You're pushing yourself too hard, burning up all your energy, making yourself vulnerable."
"Well, I guess I'm lucky you're here, then." I grunted through clenched teeth and turned to the stairway.
"Of course. Super Wolf to the fucking rescue."
Brendan chuckled deeply. "Super Wolf?"
"Oh, go to hell."
"We're already there, Slayer." He followed me down the stairs.
Can't fault him on that call.
"I didn't mean you're the weak little Slayer and I'm—"
"An asshole?"
He grunted. "It's a building full of Vampires. Yes, they are shit easy to kill, but it's not like we're going to a fun fair."
"Didn't you have fun?" I let the sarcasm drip.
"I always try to have fun," he said. "I heal very quickly, Heather. I have a bigger advantage; that's all I meant when I said you're vulnerable."
He had forgotten the small fact that he was like a super-frickin'-monster, and that Werewolves matched Vampires in strength, speed, and the sense department.
"Whatever. Why are you even explaining? It's not like I care what you think."
"Hey?" He grabbed hold of my right shoulder and I hissed, flinching away; quickly remembering why I had on a guy's shirt. Brendan grabbed my wrist, stopping me just as we reached the second floor. "Let me see."
"It's nothing. I'm fine."
"Yeah, right." He turned me so that I faced him, then started unbuttoning my top.
I batted his hand away and attempted to move past him.
"I've seen you half-naked before, remember, so now's not the time to be shy." He undid two more buttons, pulled the collar down my right shoulder and gently peeled away the bandage. "For fuck sake, Heather, how do you always manage to get claw marks?"
I shrugged. "What can I say, I always want a souvenir of my night."
I watched in disgust as he spat on his fingers. "What the hell are you doing?"
I moved away from him.
"Were saliva speeds up healing."
"You're not putting your saliva on me. That's just disgusting."
"You've had Vampire saliva and blood on you." He rubbed his hand on his jeans. "Hell, you've had a whole Vampire on you; I can smell the bastard on your flesh."
Gold specks danced across his irises as his nostrils flared. He evaluated me. "Yet you're disgusted at me wanting to put a tiny bit of my saliva onto your wounds so they heal?"
"That's right."
His head snapped up, his stare locking on mine.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He reached for my shirt, but I pulled away and continued down the next flight of stairs.
"Hey!" I growled as Brendan's left arm wound around my waist and he pulled me back against the wall of his chest. Heat enveloped me, along with the smell of pine and tangy sweat.
"Just hold still." He peeled back my shirt, then gently pulled off the bandage. Hot liquid landed on my wound. I gagged as Brendan started gently massaging his saliva into the cuts.
"This is so nasty."
He chuckled, warm breath skating over my neck. "I could always lick them for you."
The air caught in my throat and my stomach flipped at the suggestion. I could feel the heat of his body seeping into my back, spreading through me, killing the chill that settled over me for the last six weeks.
"Are you actually considering it, Slayer?" He growled softly into my ear.
I shivered. My head began to throb as I tried to think of some witty brush-off.
"No," was all that left my mouth.
His grip tightened on my waist. "Too bad. You didn't complain last time."
His comment snapped my momentary lapse of sense, and I tried to pull away from him.
"You've licked me before?"
He held me still. "No. But when I brought you home that night, I cleaned the wounds, and then added a little saliva so they would heal quicker, otherwise they would have taken two weeks, with your healing rate."
His fingers sank lower, rubbing over the top of my breast where the wound ended. My stomach tightened. His breath coasted along my neck, causing a shiver to swim slowly down my spine. His fingertips felt calloused and rough against my skin. Deep in my mind, I knew I should be angry and kick him; instead, I tensed as the strange urge to pull him closer pulsed through my limbs.
My brief insanity slipped at the sound of him inhaling. I grabbed his wrist with both of my hands.
"That is enough." I forced weight into my tone.
"Are you sure?" He asked gently, his lips brushing my ear.
Pretty sure. Plus, we're in a Vampire whorehouse, and I kinda hate him.
I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. "If you don't move, then I will show you what I did to Luca and his dick."
He replaced the bandage on my shoulder, slid the shirt into place, then let go of my waist.
I opened my eyes and proceeded down the stairs, buttoning up the shirt as I walked. Strange tingles ran through my shoulder, and the heat of Brendan's body faded with each step. I shivered again at the feel of Brendan's gaze on my back.
~ * ~
About Elizabeth,

Elizabeth started life wanting to be an actress because she loved entertaining people. She enjoyed nothing more than being able to make people laugh and to help distract them from reality for a few hours.
She studied Musical Theater in college, but during her second year, her mind started to overflow with story ideas, so she began writing plays. Slowly over the following three years, she was writing more and more, channeling every ounce of her imagination into the written word.
And now here she is, years later, hiding away like a hermit in her little cottage in Cheshire, England, writing like crazy and loving every minute of it.

Where to find Elizabeth online:
Twitter: @EMorgan2010
Facebook: Elizabeth Morgan
The Blood Series Facebook Page:
Goodreads: Elizabeth Morgan
Blog - Shared with Dianna Hardy - Not Just A Stiff Upper Lip
Elizabeth Morgan Author Page

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