Summer Lovin' - Choose the Hottest Kiss!

It's summer!  It's hot!  What better time to talk about hot kisses? (And seriously, who's hotter than John Travolta minus 30+ years?)

A couple posts ago I talked about first kisses, and most of you agreed Evie's was the more realistic of the two.

Today, we're paying no attention to realism.  Today, we're voting for the YA kisses that straight up cloud your monitor with steam.  Yeah, my cheese-o-meter just went off the charts.

Anyhow, I've compiled some of my favorite literary smooches from Nightshade, The Body Finder, Shiver, Catching Fire, and Before I Fall (and yes I'm posting the actual scene, so avert your eyes if you don't want them spoiled for you!)

In no particular order, here comes the hotness!

Violet and Jay, The Body Finder by Kimberly Derting
"What was that all ab--"
But before she could even finish her sentence, Jay had taken two long, ground-eating strides and gathered her up into his arms as his mouth covered hers possessively.
The kiss was hungry and passionate and Violet was swept up immediately, wanting more... demanding more.  He eased her down, just enough so that she was standing on her tiptoes, as she pressed herself against him, straining to get closer as her hands wound around his waist and pulled the back of his shirt toward her.  She felt dizzy, in a good way - in the best way - and she let herself go with it, enjoying every moment, every enticing stroke of his tongue against hers.

That kiss turns into a full-on makeout session, but you get the point. Yowza. Next:

Grace and Sam, Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater
I kissed her.  Just the barest brush of my lips against hers, nothing animal....
Grace smiled at me.  Her words were taunting, but her voice was gentle. "Is that all you've got?" I touched my lips to hers again, and this time it was a very different sort of kiss. It was six years' worth of kissing, her lips coming to life under mine, tasting of orange and desire. Her fingers ran through my sideburns and into my hair before linking around my neck, alive and cool and warm on my skin.  I was wild and tame and pulled into shreds and crushed into being all at once.... And then I opened my eyes and it was just Grace and me - nothing anywhere but Grace and me - she pressing her lips together as though she were keeping my kiss inside her, and me, holding this moment that was as fragile as bird in my hands.

Um, gorgeous.  That is all I can say about the way this woman writes.  I bow to her.

Katniss and Peeta, Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins
I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies.  Me.
"I do," I say.  "I need you." He looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that's no good, no good at all, because he'll start going on about Prim and my mother and everything and I'll just get confused.  So before he can talk, I stop his lips with a kiss.
I feel that thing again.  The thing I felt only once before.  I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more....
This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind.

Oh, snap.  The I-had-no-idea-I-wanted-him kiss.  Loved it, loved, loved it.

Calla and Shay, Nightshade by Andrea Cremer
I could feel every contour of his chest, the press of his thighs against my hips. I lifted my chin and his lips were on mine. The light touch speared my body and exploded deep within me.  I shuddered and took his lower lip between my teeth, biting gently.  He groaned, digging his fingers into my back. His lips parted mine, exploring, lingering.

I know I said this was too skilled for a first kiss, but hot is hot.  And that was freakin' hot.  And last but certainly not least:

Samantha and Kent, Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver
"Because?" I prompt him, surprised I can still speak.
"Because I'm sorry, but I can't help it, and I really need to kiss you right now."
He puts one hand behind my neck and pulls me toward him.  And then we're kissing.  His lips are soft and leave mine tingling.  I close my eyes, and in the darkness behind them I see beautiful blooming things, flowers spinning like snowflakes and hummingbirds beating the same rhythm as my heart.... His other hand pushes my hair from my face, and I can feel the impression of his fingers everywhere they touch, and I think of stars streaking through the sky and leaving burning trails behind them, and in that moment - however long it lasts, seconds, minutes, days, - while he's saying my name into my mouth and I'm breathing into him, I realize this, right here, is the first and only time I've ever been kissed in my life.

Amazing.  Tell me it's not amazing.  You'd be wrong.  It is.  Everyone deserves at least one kiss that amazing in their lifetime.

So which kiss encompasses all the heat of summer? Feel free to pick your favorite from among mine, or share yours in the comments!

Romance vs. Straight-Up Cheese

There's a fine line between a great romantic story and a cheesy romance novel, and boy do I hate when the line gets crossed.

I read a book recently that was so cheesy it made me want to grab one of the icicles hanging off my house and poke my eyes out with it.

Sounds like fun, right?  Anyhow, I won't say the title or author of this particular book because I'm unpublished and therefore probably unqualified to throw stones, but the logline on the cover goes like this:

He's New York's most eligible bachelor.  She's just not interested!

Gee... wonder how that's going to work out?  Is she really going to shoot him down for an entire novel?  I think not.  Sure enough, "he" and "she" meet on page 36 and by page 43, the narrative goes a little something like this:

And he'd called her beautiful.  Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory.  Then there'd been his touch.  His hands weren't roughened from hard work, nor were they soft and manicured.  In fact, his fingers felt just right as they'd wrapped around her hand and the jolt of awareness sizzled straight through to her toes, and other body parts she'd be better off not concentrating on too closely right now.

Um, want some crackers with that cheese?  What happened to not interested? 

And let's not leave out his thoughts on her:

She presented a puzzle he wanted to take apart and put back together with a deeper understanding.

What?  So if she's a puzzle and she's already put together, why would you need to take her apart to understand her?  Can't you just look at the pieces?  Or am I missing some sort of sexual innuendo, or a reference to the borderline gross makeout scene that's coming up in the next fifty pages?

But the worst - the absolute worst - are the sex scenes.  Now don't get me wrong, I love a sexy magnetism between two characters.  But there is a difference between hot and hard core.  And when physical attraction seems to be the only thing driving them together, I just feel dirty reading passages like this:

Coop had died and gone to Heaven.  Or at least he was on his way there, as Lexie's damp hot body glided down over his, cocooning him in the most exquisite sheath.

Exquisite sheath?!  EWW!  You've got to be kidding me!  I would love for a group of women to try that line on their partner.  "Hey baby, how'd you like to be cocooned in my exquisite sheath?"  He'll die alright.  Of laughter.  Oh yeah, and "Coop" is the male mc, who goes by something that belongs with "chicken" in front of it, despite having a nice, normal name like Sam Cooper.  That should have raised the Red Flag of Formaggio right there.

It wasn't long after this point that I stopped reading and merely skimmed through the rest just to see how it ended, which of course, was as you'd expect with some extra cheese thrown in.  Spoiler alert (yawn): they argue after more sex in a coat closet at a party and she's held at knifepoint by a deranged member of the waitstaff.  At which point "Coop" realizes Oh God, I could have lost her! and they put aside their differences and live happily ever after.  Gag.  Me.

This book had no business calling itself a romance novel.  Sex is not romance.  Overused plot devices are not romance.  Go read the scene in Shiver where Sam and Grace kiss for the first time, or the scene in Before I Fall when Samantha and Kent have their first real kiss.  That's romance.  There's more of it in those four or five pages than there was in this entire novel.

I think this is why I veer toward the YA genre.  When the characters fall in love, it's new and innocent and exciting and exploratory.  There's still the element of surprise, and it's not all about the physicality of it.  But start stepping up the ladder to chick lit or romance, and you're testing questionable waters.  Things get too heavy, too predictable, too graphic, and TOO FREAKING CHEESY. 

Now that's not to say all YA romance is perfect or that all adult romance should be written off.  But this particular book is going right into the donation pile.  I chose it in the first place because a) the back cover synopsis was intriguing (better than the actual novel, as it turns out) and b) the cover was cute, and not something I'd be embarrassed to be seen reading like most romance novels.  Lesson learned.  You really can't judge a book by its cover - front or back. 

Now, please excuse me while I hit up my YA-To-Be-Read pile for something to clear my brain of the cheddar residue!