Our meeting was accidental. Its a wonder it happened at all. Perhaps fate decided to intercede. Because left to my own devices, I doubt I would have found, much less believed in love, even if it were handed to me on a silver platter.

I was jaded. Love only happened in books, fairy tales, movies. Mutually beneficial relationships were real life, my life, all I could handle. And I assiduously avoided anyone who had the capability of breaching the well reasoned life theory I'd formed, (out of pure survival instinct).

But then I saw "Him". I was patiently waiting, thumbing through a copy of a new historical novel, who's Author was speaking in 30 min. The line was long. I'm not a line person. I get in, or I don't, stand in line I will not. So I sat at a bistro table outside of my favorite book store, sipping my tea, and wishing desperately that my sense of smell would magically vanish, so I could just once enjoy the beautiful day, without being assaulted with the tantalizing aroma's wafting thru the air from the bakery. Not that I'm on a "diet", in the conventional sense; It's just that I'm "allergic" to anything that smells even remotely sinful and delicious! I digress . . .

Sitting in front of me, with his back to me, was a very impressive specimen of all that I find masculine.

Of course,  I was not staring

That would be Rude

Or ogling


Or for that matter overtly gaping


I would say, I was "covertly peeking" and rather "overtly appreciating", what looked to me like a very finely wrought man.

Perhaps I'm a sucker for a well groomed man. He wore a fine tailored white w/navy pinstriped shirt. Cuffs rolled to the elbow, exposing impressively developed forearms. And a back that was equally impressive; wide, strong shoulders, tapering to an admirably flat abdomen (definitely water-polo) . His slacks ( yes, slacks) were a light weight worsted wool, that barely concealed the large muscular legs they were covering. Long legs. Did I mention he looked to be well over 6' 2" approximately 220lbs, with the posture of a General, but the casual elegance of a Prince (My god, I sound positively medieval).

OK Concentrate ! I'd like not to be totally ignorant during the Author's form.

Oh my !

Those hands,

large hands, cooper hued very large hands,

manly hands !

Stop! Read! He is not for you!

The lines moving, perhaps if I stood in line I could better concentrate.

Shame on me.

His loafers are beautiful, casual elegance exudes.

What Is Wrong With Me !

To be honest a well dressed man is a rarity. Perhaps that's what it is, I've grown so used to ill dressed men that the sight of a well attired man is such an anomaly, that I've quite forgotten myself. After all I've only seen the mans Back . . .

and Arms . . .

And Shoulders,


Hands, very Large Masculine Hands.

Perhaps he'll be less favorably endowed from a different vantage point.

Perhaps his voice will be off putting, nasal, whinny, and unpleasant.

That's it ! Hopefully now I can concentrate .

Oh No !

He just turned around, presumably to check the line.

No buck teeth,

No gaps

or gold caps,

Eye's aren't crossed, beady, or bugged,

no craters, pits, or scars.

Stunning penetrating grey eyes, set in a decidedly masculine face, square jaw, 3 dimples (chin and cheeks), black glossy hair flecked with silver, exceedingly well groomed. Lips . . .

he's smiling, at me,

oh no.

Stop Starring (I hope my mouth isn't open),

look down, concentrate, concentrate.

I think I'm going home, before I make a complete fool of myself !

That smile . . . It was soooo . . . rye, sardonic,

So Blatantly Sensual, it's a crime.

I have to leave. Stand . . . walk . . . forward . . . the cashier is straight ahead. I'll just buy the book. After all precisely because I find him overwhelmingly "Gorgeous" is reason enough for me to run not walk.

You see I am the worlds worst chooser. I am no longer allowed to "Choose". He probably has "Issues", likely has "Issues". I do not want to be with someone who needs a 'Mother', 'Father', 'Confessor', or 'Keeper'. I can fall in love a million times in a million different ways with my "Books;" my books are less 'needy', 'less stressful', an while they may lack a certain "Jene sais quoi"( perhaps warmth,) I trust the fact that I won't need "Legal Representation" to sever ties from my "Books".

That body was probably courtesy of 'obsessive compulsive' weight lifting, and 'mirror gazing'. And surly enhanced by a well trained plastic surgeon. As I said "Issues".

I'm going home.

"Great minds think alike."

I have not felt that particular sensation in a very long time. I Froze. The words were whispered, very close, behind my right ear. The speaker had come very close, so close I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck, It was all I could do to keep from shivering. My eye's closed. Obviously it was not "Him".

Shake yourself out of it !

He probably was not even smiling at me. He's definitely not the one whispering in my ear, in a most Provocative and Sensual way, and a voice that had the power to discombobulate me in the middle of a crowded store !

Help !

I don't want to turn around and acknowledge the speaker. But, common courtesy and good breeding must take precedence. I just won't look up, that's my plan. I turn around, and my willfully uncooperative eye's completely betray me ! So not only did my traitorous eyes travel from the extremely soft leather clad feet (where they should have stayed) over the well proportioned and long muscled legs, up an enticingly narrow waist, to a wonderfully massive and wide chest (breath taking, truly), that fit beautifully between impossibly wide shoulders and massive biceps. Unfortunately my traitorous eyes refused to stop, and I just knew that shortly I would become a stammering inarticulate "Mess", right in front of this "Spartacus" reincarnation.

My eye's met . . .

A Thunder Storm !

Grey expressive eye's locked on mine !

All thought fled, my tongue was thick, immobile, my body no longer mine.

I felt like a bunny caught in a snare. I manged a tremulous smile. And looked down, at our books.

OK brain Work , Now !

He's speaking.

That voice, I want to be cradled in that voice . . . He's asking, `If I'm as crowd adverse as he is'? Nod, Form a Word !

Short Sentence,

Anything ,

Speak !

He smiled . . . and my whole being was suffused with warmth (I know , I read to much).

Finally I formulated a question, I asked `If he had read the book' ? I truly cannot tell you how much that took out of me. I did not stutter, stammer or spit, I managed to keep  any visible signs of respiratory distress to a minimum. A moment to be proud of surly ! Now I can turn around pay for my book, and run to my car. Before I have a chance to muck up, what I just now brought to so satisfactory a conclusion.

He's leaning forward, His lips are moving.


He seems to be answering a question.

Did I ask a question ?


He smells so good . . .


I'm never leaving home again.

"Yes, he'd read the book, and he'd found it an admirable sophomore attempt, especially after the meteoric rise of the Authors first book, a riveting historical fiction.

I actually heard and comprehended all he said ! And averting my gaze I responded, "I very much enjoyed, and was deeply impressed by the Authors freshmen offering, and that I regretted missing today's meet and greet, but perhaps it was for the best, since I had not yet read his new book. Hopefully the Author would return to our area in the near future.

Note: I am speaking English, I haven't fallen over, or completely lost my Mind, and Thrown Myself Into His Arms and Begged for Mercy !

I think we're off to an auspicious start. Wouldn't you agree ?


      My Grown-up Bedtime Lullaby... A Tell of True Romance !

   Chapter 1: Of Course I'm Not Staring, (That Would be Rude )!

By D.M. Phillippe,

please enjoy!

To leap, or not to leap, that is the. . . Oh who am I kidding, I want to . . .wouldn't you like to know ?

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Sugar - Daniel Jang
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Take Flight . . .  and Find Your Romance !