It's Wednesday which means it's book boyfriend day. My book boyfriend began over at The Unread Reader and has now pretty much taken over my Wednesday's. Every Wednesday I drool over a fictional male character and rack my brains to think of what yummy person I will use in pictures to make everyone else drool too.
This week I have picked one of my favourites- Terrible from Stacia Kane's Downside Ghosts series.
If you haven't read this series then hang you head in shame because it is amazing and is one of the best series EVER. I read the series last year and honestly for ages afterwards every other book I picked up just paled in comparison, I had to keep going back to my favourite bits time and time again I really did have Terrible Fever.
Why I love Terrible
1. He's a tough enforcer for local drug dealer Bump
2. He is enormous, packed with muscle
has mutton chop sideburns and wears bowling shirts
3. He drives a 1969 Chevelle
(I'm from the UK I didn't even know what that was
I had to google it)
4. He's protective and loyal
5. He thinks he isn't smart enough for Chess
6. There are numerous fabulously steamy scenes in the series, I particularly love the bathroom scene and have those pages folded down for "ease of reference"
When I picture Terrible in my head I always picture
Hugh Jackman as Wolverine
(I think its the sideburns that do it)
"I figure you really wanted me you'd say. Like now, maybe if you dig. I'll fuckin carry you down your place on a run, you tell me aye, get you on your back afore the next word comes out your mouth. But you oughta have yourself certain, causen I ain't lookin for charity, an I ain't lettin you go after. Once... once ain't enough for me dig?"
His hand cupped the back of her neck, pulling her to him in one quick forceful movement; she barely had time to register it before his lips met hers. No anger lurked in that kiss, none of the confusion she'd felt from him before. It was like the first kiss at Trickster's, like the second on the rooftop: just the two of them, with nothing in between. Nothing in the way.
Both bottles fell from her hands; dimly she heard them land, heard foam spread across the floor and felt it licking cold on her bare feet. She couldn't have cared less. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, solid and warm and real. His hands fisted in her hair, pulling it back so he could stroke his fingers over her collarbone, sending little shivers through her.
He lifted his head to look at her. Giving her his eyes, giving her what was behind them. "You know I do, aye? Love you right Chessiebomb."
I melt into a puddle of goo when he calls Chess Chessiebomb, I really do.
One more picture of a sweaty mean scowly looking Hugh Jackman, no reason really.....