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Friday, June 3, 2011

An example of how the song inspires the writer...

I wrote this piece a while back. Everytime I hear Sixpence None The Richer's Kiss Me, I think of this story. I haven't finished it yet, but someday I really want to.

The story is set in Victorian England, and will, someday, be my first attempt at the Historical Romance genre. There's more of this, if you like it!


Kiss Me


I ran through the fields as fast as I could, laughing whenever I had the breath. I kept running away from him, but I knew he was starting to gain on me. I tried to pick up my pace, but my breath was running out. As I went around a haystack I screamed, for there in front of me he was. I skidded to a halt and reversed direction as gracefully as I could. He laughed and followed me, only a few feet back now. I smiled as I was running, I was gaining on him again. Or so I thought. I turned to look again and it slowed me down. Then he was right behind me, reaching out to grab me.


His hands went around my waist and we yelled and laughed as we went tumbling to the ground. When I opened my eyes, I found myself laying in the field with his head right above me, sheilding the sunlight. He smiled down into my eyes and my heart skipped a few beats. He was so handsome with the sun at his back and his eyes sparkling. He had thick black hair, cut short as was the current style, and hazel green eyes. He had an honest face, and his jaw was starting show hints of a beard. He had high cheekbones and strong forehead. He was the spitting image of his father, except he smiled a lot more.


"I caught you Sam..." he smirked, "You know what happens when I catch you."


I rolled my eyes, "Considering that you always catch me...yes, I know what happens."


He leaned down a little and brushed his lips against mine. It sent a warm tingle through my entire body. After a moment he did it again and a little moan escaped me. When he kissed me more deeply, I reached around him to hold him closer. His hands curled in my hair, stroking the back of my neck. He nibbled on my lower lip for a minute, but then sighed suddenly.


He hugged me and buried his face in my hair, whispering, "I love you Sam."
I hugged him back, resting my head on his shoulder, "I wish it could be like this forever Teddy."


"It will, love. Somehow, I'll find a way. Mother doesn't want anything arranged, and you know Father listens to her."


I scowled, "Only when he wants to. I don't think he would go along with us." I bit my lip, "Teddy? I heard something about a countess and her daughter..."


"Yes, indeed," he grimaced, "They're supposed to be calling on us next week. I'm afraid it's just as you fear, Father invited them to discuss more than just the weather." He sighed and touched my cheek. He pressed a kiss to my nose, cheeks, and then mouth...never wavering in intensity.


"But I love you Sammy," he said, "And no countess' daughter can change that."


I smiled and tweaked his nose, "Don't call me Sammy, or I'll call you Theodore."


He shuddered, "You wouldn't, would you?"


"Oh, I would." I leaned up to kiss him, "But I won't this time because I like you."


"So, you would call me that if you didn't like me?"


"Nope, I would call you Dora and have done with it."


His eyes widened as he grinned, "You are truly cruel to those you don't like. I'm so glad you like me."


I smiled tenderly, "I love you."


"All the better." He was going to kiss me again when we heard a door slam.


We both sprang apart and ran to hide behind a haystack. We stood there, close for a minute before anything else was heard. And then a gravelly, harsh voice rang out.


"Samantha?! Where ye be gel?! Yer Papa wants ye, ye bloomin' fool!"


I giggled, but Teddy put a hand over my mouth. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to laugh too. "Tomorrow" he mouthed and then removed his hand and quickly covered my mouth with his. His tongue barely caressed mine before he pushed me around the haystack and towards home. After the frantic, but wonderful, kiss my mind was a little joggled, and it took me a moment to know I should answer the yell.


"I'm right here Sally! I'm coming!" My cultured tones always annoyed Sally, who had been raised in Scotland, and I could hear her grumbling. I took one last look behind me, wishing I could go back to Teddy. He wasn't there any longer, probably already on his horse and nearly home. I sighed and entered the manor through the back kitchen door.


Cook was laboring over the stove. At my inquiring look, she pointed to the parlor with her big spoon. I thanked her and quickly hurried to the parlor. The door was closed when I got there, so I knocked and stood waiting for an answer. My papa opened the door and looked down at me.


"Good Lord girl!" he whispered fiercely, "What the devil have you been doing?! Get yourself up the stairs and right yourself. You look the image of a maid!" He shut the door hastily on me and I heard his voice inside saying cordially, "Just a maid saying our Samantha will be down in five minutes."


I frowned, this was strange. I shook off my feeling of foreboding and skipped up the stairs. I laughed at myself when I looked in the mirror. At the age of 16 I had long curly blonde hair and light gray eyes. Usually, when I hadn't been out all day with Teddy, my hair looked quite lovely, but now there was hay sticking out of it. My cheeks were flushed with excitement and my dress had dirt and hay hanging from it. My eyes were luminous with happiness though.


I changed out of the dirty dress and donned a pretty light green one. The dress was fairly plain, but it made me look nice and did wonders for my complexion. I brushed the hay out of my hair and settled it nicely with a half pony tail. I cleaned my hands and splashed some cold water on my face. When I looked presentable I hurried back down stairs and returned to the parlor door.


Almost before I knocked my papa opened the door again. He smiled in relief when he saw me. With a flourish he beckoned me into the nice room. I had always loved this room for it's warmth and character. The walls were a welcoming cream and there was comfy furniture everywhere. My mama was inside and she beckoned me to sit in a specific chair. There was a man directly across from the chair I was supposed to sit in. I didn't recognize him, but immediately I didn't like him. He gave me an uneasy feeling. Everything about him seemed dark. His hair, his eyes, his clothes and even his skin. He seemed to be in aged somewhere in his late twenties to early thirties. He smirked upon seeing me.


Uneasily, I took the seat. I looked between my mama and papa, wondering what this was all about. Papa closed the door, but didn't sit. Instead, he clapped his hands together.


"Samantha, I would like you to meet the Duke of Bridgerton."


~-~-~

Let me know what you think, and if you want to see more!

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