Skip to main content

Ah, the first kiss, is there anything better?

Whether it’s sweet, sensual, or demanding, all good romance novels have them.

It is usually the turning point. The part of the book where the protagonist gives in to her wants and needs. The part we all wait for. The part where the tension has become too much to handle, and she simply succumbs. The best part.

Or, at least in my mind anyway.

But, I was curious if any of my readers agreed, so I compiled a collection of first kisses from published and almost-published authors.

Please encourage these writers, and let them know what you thought of their first-kiss scene by commenting below, visiting their blog, or even better, buying their novel.

Beside each author’s name is the title of their book. If I did everything correctly, it should take you directly to their Amazon page or sample.


Carmen DeSousa, me, of course: She Belongs to Me

“Jaynee, I don’t know how to say this without scaring the heck out of you, or myself for that matter. But I am not pretending anything. And, I am definitely not interested in a one-night-stand. I don’t know how this is going to work, but I…all I know is I want—”
He pulled her face to his, kissing her softly once, twice, a third. As she parted her lips inviting him in, he kissed her deeper, passionately. They fit together perfect, and his body ached to have her closer. Not in a sexual way, he wanted all of her, mind and soul. He wanted to know everything. He released only her lips but continued holding onto her face. All he knew was he wanted that to be his last first-kiss.
Want more? She Belongs to Me is now available at Amazon and all major book retailers. Find links on BookBub.

For more about Carmen, visit her sites below:

MJ Kane: A Heart not Easily Broken - The Butterfly Memoirs

Once our eyes met, she bit her lip, her eyebrows shooting up when she stifled a laugh. I smirked, which caused her to laugh and me to join in. We looked like idiots. Ebony wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. She was beautiful.
Unable to resist, I gave into the urge and ran my fingers through the free strands of her hair. My fingers brushed along her cheek and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. It felt like silk. 
As my fingers grazed her cheek again, her laughter slowed. Her eyes focused on me with just a hint of a question. Her lips parted, sending what I hoped was a silent invitation.
I was aware of the people veering around us as they rushed by. The sound of the ocean, people’s laughter, and dogs barking no longer had my attention—nothing else mattered.
No longer thinking, I did what came naturally. My finger rested beneath her jaw as I leaned in to kiss her.
I pressed my lips against hers, lightly, inviting her to return the kiss, silently praying for permission for more. Her body tensed beneath my fingertips. It was too late; I’d crossed the line. But Ebony didn’t pull away, so I kissed her again.
I didn’t hesitate. I opened my mouth wider, slipping the tip of my tongue in and tasted…strawberries. Her hand came up and slid into the hair at the nape of my neck. Kissing her was like being in heaven.

For more about MJ Kane, visit her sites below:


Jaime RushOut of the Darkness

Zoe studied the gym equipment, wondering what else she could practice her telekinesis skills on. I wonder if I could pull Rand’s shorts down. She almost lost it at that.
He wiped his face with the towel and tossed it over a nearby bar before climbing up for another set of pull-ups. The towel jumped straight up, making him jump, too.
He swung around with a look of such consternation, she did burst out laughing. "I'm practicing my skills," she said.
"On me."
She nodded, another gale of laughter overtaking her. He stalked over, but she was helpless to regain her composure.
He stopped in front of her, his legs against hers, and leaned down in her face. He planted his hands on either side of her. She expected that he'd tell her off. He kissed her instead. Oh, not just any kiss, either, but a full on, lip lock, tongue-dancing kiss with just a touch of aggression.
She wasn't laughing now.

For more about Jaime, visit her sites below:

Bernadette Marie: The Executive’s Decision

The dance died down, and their movements were slower as their bodies crept closer. His hand slid from hers and down her arm until it captured her waist. Zach looked into her eyes, and she looked back at him without breaking free from his arms. Regan would never be sure when his lips touched hers or when their mouths crushed against one another's.
Desire blossomed, he consumed her, and she let him. His lips were strong. The sense that told her to hold him tighter won over the one that tried to force him from her arms. Her hands left his shoulders and her fingers laced in his hair. His scent washed over her, and all she wanted to feel was his body pressed against hers. The music had changed, but she couldn't hear anything except the blood rushing in her head.

For more about Bernadette Marie, visit her sites below:

Darin Calhoun: Rogue Wolf

"Destan drove Cassandra to her hotel. Cassandra's hand hesitated on the car door handle, and she looked at him. There was a wanting in his eyes that pulled her to him. Her lips parted, and she moistened them.
He leaned into her.
When their lips touched, electric warmth spread through her. She took his hungry mouth to hers and explored the sensuous pleasures of his lips. Nerves fired in scintillating rivers through Cassandra's body arousing the passions deep within her.
Her teeth scraped his lips, causing him to growl with pleasure. Encouraged to explore him, she moved her lips away; her warm breath cascaded on his rough cheeks as she moved across to his ear, nibbling slightly as she breathed heated sighs.
He turned his head, exposing his neck to her, allowing Cassandra to drag her lips down the muscular cords, causing him to stir. She buried her head in the niche of his neck, using her teeth and tongue to create a wave of passion in him. He took her face in his hands, and his fevered lips consumed hers, igniting a fire that threatened to overwhelm her as the last walls of restraint collapsed. I want him. I want to bite him, and make him mine. He is mine."

For more about Darin, visit his sites below:

Synithia Williams: You Can't Plan Love 

“Malcolm, I don’t care when you slept with Tangy. It’s none of my business if you slept with her or half of the women in our office.”
            His brow crinkled. “Kenyatta, I don’t sleep with my co-workers. Not anymore. That situation with Tangy happened when I was twenty-three. I’ve kept my relationships out of the office since then. It gets too complicated if things go wrong.”
            “Well, now you’ve explained yourself and we can say good night.”
            She reached around him to open the door, but he moved to block her. “I’ve done a good job of not mixing business with pleasure.” His eyes met hers. “Until you started working for me.”
            Kenyatta’s pulse raced. She wanted to step away—run away—and tell him to stop saying things that made it so easy for her to forget that he was everything she didn’t want in a man. But, her feet felt rooted to the floor when he took a small step toward her.
            “I think you should go.” Her voice was soft, breathless and completely contradicted with her words.
 Malcolm took another step, bringing him close enough for his chest to brush against her breasts. “Say it like you mean it.”
            She stared into his eyes and felt the heat from his gaze as if it were a caress. Her eyes lowered to his lips and she wanted to know what kissing him felt like. Would his goatee tickle or scratch her face? Would his lips feel as delicious against hers as they looked? It was foolish, and it was wrong, but she wanted him.
            He reached out and slowly ran his fingers through her hair until he cupped the back of her head.  Kenyatta knew things were getting out of hand and he opened her mouth to stop him. “I think…”
            He cut her off and brought his head down slowly, barely touched her lips with his. Her words died on her lips. She didn’t pull away when he ran his tongue lightly over her bottom lip. Blood rushed through her veins. Her breasts felt heavy, aching for his touch, while liquid heat shot from where their lips met to the core of her womanhood.
            He continued to tease her mouth, slowly kissing and lightly sucking her lips until she pressed herself against him, begging for more. Finally, he deepened the kiss and pulled her tight against him. Kenyatta felt the burning passion—that she’d convinced herself she could live without—flowing through her body as his tongue caressed hers. All coherent thought fled from her mind, as all she could do was taste, touch and feel Malcolm.
For more about Synithiaw, visit her sites below:

Jennifer Gracen:

Ben didn't let go of her wrist. He used it to pull her slowly towards him, never breaking their gaze as he slid his other arm around her waist. Releasing her wrist, he brought his hand up to his own face to remove his glasses, his eyes still holding hers. He leaned away slightly to place the frames on the nearby table, then moved back in to cup the back of her neck and pull her to him.
He moved in slowly, torturously slow, taking in the look on her face and the ragged way she was breathing. With commanding heat, he brushed his lips lightly against hers, testing, teasing, and she gasped.
Then, finally, he sealed his mouth to hers for a slow, hot, sumptuous kiss—the kiss he'd waited twenty-two years to take.

For more about Jennifer, visit her sites below:

Minnie Lahongrais: Sinner’s Ride

At the end of ninth grade, Daniel asked me to be his date for the junior high school prom, and I elatedly said yes. That night was a night for first – well, for me anyway. I’m not sure how much of what we shared that night had already been experienced by Daniel. I felt feelings I had never experienced before in my life!
He touched me in ways and places he never touched me before and I liked it. He was gentle with me when we kissed. He explored my mouth with his tongue like he was looking for some kind of treasure. He drove his tongue deep into my mouth and made me squirm, but he also made me want more. I could feel my nipples get hard and it felt like a worm was squirming around inside of them. I felt the same thing in my belly button.

For more about Minnie, visit her sites below:


Kellianne Sweeney: The One that got Away

“I could not let this pass,” he replied simply. But his eyes said much more.
In the past I had been afraid to look in his eyes too closely. Afraid for what mine would say to him. Afraid that I might not find the same feelings that I held for him there.  Or afraid that I might find the shadowy sexual beast lurking there. He was too perfect.  I wanted him to stay that way, unsullied by my expectations or false hopes. But this time, I looked. I saw tenderness. And uncertainty. And hope.
He peered closely at me with those beautiful wolf-like eyes and then seemed to readjust his gaze to look even closer. Almost unconsciously my fingers rose to touch his cheek gently, hesitantly. He moved his face into my palm and pressed my hand closer with his own. He closed his eyes briefly as if to relish the moment. When he opened them again they were piercing and smoky.
“Roese, I do believe that I have fallen in love with you.”
My heart stood still. I could not say a word. I only stared in surprise. He moved to sit beside me. In an absent like manner he delicately guided tangled strands of hair from my face with one hand. His fingers found the nape of my neck and stayed there. He brought his face close to mine and his lips brushed my cheek as he spoke.
“I want to kiss you, Roese…May I kiss you?”
I only hesitated for the merest fraction of a moment. “Yes,” I breathed. And then he kissed me. Deeply, earnestly. He entwined his fingers in my hair and pulled me closer. My hands slid up around the back of his neck and he sighed with pleasure. The kiss was long and it was sweet and it demanded more. But Ralf stopped.
He cupped my face in his warm hands and said, “Your arm is bleeding and I do believe you will have a bruised eye, little girl. We must tend to these needs and to other more serious consequences.”
For more about Kellianne, visit her sites below:

Before long, Tayelon appeared again and Amber jumped from the car. She stood in place not wanting to approach him in case he still needed some space. He looked a little calmer and the frown had left his brow but he wasn’t smiling and his face was still serious.
He walked straight for her and she prepared herself for his anger, but it never came. He pulled her with force against his chest and kissed her deeply. His lips were hard against hers as she fought to keep control, but it was of no use, he was too strong and her willpower was far too weak.
She gave up and allowed herself to enjoy the taste of him as he snaked his tongue into her mouth. She enjoyed the feel of his stubble as it grazed her chin. It sent a thrill through her body. Amber ran her hands through his hair and kissed him back with as much passion. Tayelon finally pulled away and hugged her tightly, resting his chin on her head. Her heart thudded in her chest and her breathing was low and quick.
For more about Roxy, visit her sites below:

About the blog author, ME, Carmen DeSousa:

Most of my novels share my favorite hobbies, mostly, anything to do with the great outdoors. I've hiked, kayaked, and dined across the US, so I could bring my stories to life.

Other than locations you can feel, I concentrate on the human factor. My protagonists face real issues -- and antagonists. I attempt to help her characters find a way out of their situations and find their happily ever after. Because, let's face it, isn't that what everyone find their happily ever after?

My first novel (featured above), She Belongs to Me, reached bestseller status right alongside Nicholas Sparks, J.D. Robb, and other great authors.

I loves talking about all things books, so please connect with me via one of the links below.


  1. From ROSE'S WILL, by Denise DeSio

    He sits, with a smile that brightens the dingy hallway, and pats the step beside him. “Wait with me.”

    I climb the stairs and squeeze into
    the narrow space. Our thighs fuse together, and his eyes, the color of a kite-flying day, become full of me.

    “So pretty,” he whispers, but I flinch as his hand nears my face. “It’s okay…okay…not going to hurt you…” And his voice is a lullaby, and his touch is a prayer, and I lift my chin, and he finds my lips, and his kiss is slow and gentle. But it’s not the kiss that makes the moment imperative. It’s his hands, his arms, cradling my battered body, encircling the pain.

    I am oblivious to the sound of the key in the lock, unaware of my mother looming at the bottom
    of the stairs. “Bitch!” Roxanne Kade and I share the same publisher and you can win a free kindle when you buy my book as well.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"As in any fairytale, everything good must come to an end." ENTANGLED DREAMS:

Now, if you’ve read any of my novels or excerpts, you know I don’t do happy-go-lucky beginnings; and as in any fairytale, a little rain must fall, or in the case of my stories, I prefer a monsoon. This week’s excerpt: But alas, as in any good fairytale, everything good and wonderful must come to an end. After the tragic accident that snatched her mother away from Alexandra, her father moved them away from the beaches of Destin to another beach in Florida. Cocoa Beach. Cocoa Beach was loud, the water murky, and there were no weekend adventures as there had been in Destin. Her father married her evil stepmother, Lilith, who Alexandra was certain was a witch with her long, black as midnight hair and pale-white skin as if she’d never seen sunlight. Her father had admitted he wasn’t in love with Cruella, as she had come to think of the witchy woman, but that he’d wanted Alexandra to have a mother and siblings. Well, she definitely got that. The k

To prologue or not to prologue, that is the question. Readers, please weigh in!

Personally, I love prologues. They get you right into the action whether it was in the past or something exciting that is to come. But that’s exactly why most agents’ blogs I’ve read say not to use them. Paraphrasing…“If you need a prologue, then your story must not be strong enough…” Hmm … well, I like them, and I use them. But I’m curious what readers think, and I’d love you to weigh in. AND, if you have some great examples, please leave the title in the comment section. Now … here’s what I’ve noticed. Plenty of bestselling books have used them, even though they aren’t always called prologues . Same diff in my opinion. My biggest example is ‘Twilight’. If that little blurb wasn’t in the beginning, I don’t think I would have made it through the first chapter. How about movies? I don’t watch a lot. But I’ve started to notice how many have “prologues”. I also don’t have cable, but I have NetFlix, and hubby has just started watching ‘Breaking Bad’. Okay … I

The rule of thirds: No matter what you do, someone will hate you. Get over it and Write On!

No matter what you do in life, a third of the people will love you, a third will hate you, and the rest will be indifferent. Get over it and Write On! Yes, I'm talking to myself. If you're listening, GREAT! It's good advice! Is it easy advice? Heck No! For some reason, even though that percentage is rather low on my books--the percentage of people who hate my books runs about 4.6%--it still hurts.  Note: I only averaged the 'firsts' in my books, the books I actively promote. Because if I go to the second, third, and fourth books in my series, those numbers drop drastically. Obviously, if readers don't like my first book, they don't go on to the rest of my books in a series, so those books receive little to zero one-star reviews. So...if the number of one-star reviews we receive is less than five percent--Thank God ALL of the 33 1/3% of the haters don't write reviews--why do we get so depressed when we receive a one-star review