No Kiss Blogfest Entry!

The "almost-kiss."  It happens in every tortured romance.

It's the want to kiss so badly, but knowing you can't. Or you can, but you're interrupted.

*swoons*

Every year on January 2nd, author Frankie Diane Mallis hosts a No Kiss Blogfest. What is this, you ask?

"This is when you get to write a scene or post one from your favorite books, movies, or tv shows that show the almost kiss-- the rising, crushing, excruciating, longing, tension that comes  when two characters get oh-so-close to kissing that you can just feel it, want it, NEED it....and then...they don't!"

CLICK HERE for the link to her blog. You should participate too! Even if you don't write, you can post your favorite almost-kiss scene from a book you love, or a movie clip. 


So anyway, I have decided to share my own almost-kiss from the novel that I'm seeking representation for, WICKED ILLUSIONS. (Check out my "Making Stuff Up" tab for more info on the storyline, if you please. :-D) Let me know if you like it! 

~

I could tell the boy was fighting back a smile. For some reason, he seemed to think that I was hilarious, and that infuriated me even more since I wasn't trying to be funny.

            "What the hell are you smiling about?" I hissed.

            "Tiger Lilly," he said softly, reaching out to entwine his fingers in mine. I suddenly felt deflated.

            His face turned serious and he bit his bottom lip like it tasted good— and for a split second, I wondered if it did. He reached forward to brush a piece of stray hair from my collarbone, and I shivered as his fingers burned like licking flames against my skin.

            "I want some answers," I mumbled. "I'm so confused and I just..."

            My thoughts swirled around my head like a tornado and I wanted to be angry, but I couldn't.

            The boy's brow crinkled-- he seemed to balance on the edge of something unspoken for a moment. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn't put my finger on it for some reason.

            "What is your name?" I asked. "So I can stop calling you 'the boy'."

            He ignored my question. "Lilly, I would love nothing more than to give you your answers. I would tell you anything that you wanted to know because I want to be honest with you and I want you to trust me. But I am searching for the same answers myself."

            He dropped his head to stare at the ground and I had to strain to hear him as he whispered to me.

            "I don't know why I am here, or how I even got here.  But I can't leave."

            He was trapped here, just like I was trapped in Ironbrook. Neither of us could run away-- My thoughts slammed to a halt, and I suddenly knew where I'd seen him. I wondered why I hadn't caught it before now. He was the boy from the newspaper article I'd read in Mr. Bowman's class.

            Where were we?

             "Is your name Noah?" I asked.

            He nodded and locked his eyes with mine, his own silent questions burning into me. He grabbed my waist gently and pulled me into his arms. His right hand lightly cupped my face as he brushed his thumb across my cheekbone, and suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

            He leaned in, and for a moment I thought that he was going to kiss me. His lips were so close to mine that I could feel the electricity sparkling between our skin. I wanted it to happen— my head clouded with a need to feel the soft curve of his lips against my own. His thumb traced down my jaw line, settling behind my ear with a whisper-soft touch. He gently pulled my head closer to his, and just before our lips touched, I remembered.

            "Noah," I whispered, my words hissing across his mouth. He exhaled in defeat and shifted backwards a tiny fraction. I fought through the clouds in my brain and the urge to forget about this and plant my lips onto his, but I knew what I had to do. I had to figure out a gentle way to tell him what he needed to know.

             But I could only tell him the truth, and truths like that could only be revealed for what they were; horrible. We stared at each other for a moment, neither of us blinking. I knew what I had to tell him, but it took me a while to build up the courage.

             "I think you might be dead," I said, finally.