The Elevator

This is something I would normally post about in a series of tweets on twitter, but I should save some of these longer anecdotes for the blog (considering the paucity of posts here lately). It’s just easier to fire something off in 140 characters on the phone and be done with it than to sit in from of the pc and craft something.

Anywho,



This morning I get on the elevator with a colleague, she’s only going a couple of floors down, I’m going down to the main level/concourse for a coffee run. We’re chatting away about work stuff and I barely notice the guy that gets on a few moments later some floors later. He goes to the back of the car while I and co-worker continue deep in our discussion (hyper aware she’ll have to get off soon).


There’s another quick stop and a colleague of the quiet guy gets on. They immediately strike up a conversation. It barely registers when guy #2 gives the opening greeting, but--

OMG--

when the first guy replies, his voice grabs my attention right away.


It’s gravelly and delicious. Like warm black sand on a midnight beach in the tropics. You just want to dig your toes deep into the feels-so-good grit and gentle heat.


I want him to keep talking (and keep talking and keep talking), and barely manage to say bye to co-worker when she gets off at her floor. Where did he get that voice? Holy cow, talk some more, say anything. Recite the alphabet. Oh no, we’re almost at the ground floor. Noooooo.

I want to turn around and fully check him out but I have to satisfy myself with his reflection in the polished brass elevator doors.

He’s short.
And he has a paunch that strains the buttons of his shirt, (lol)
But lord have mercy, that voice! Pure sex. Pure seduction.

Of course… being a writer, I immediately think, gotta write this scenario— heroine runs into hero, barely notices him. Then he speaks and Oh. EM. Gee that voice comes pouring out.

So, this is not an original idea, it’s been done before. There’s always something about a romance hero’s voice, and it’s usually just one of the many attributes in the arsenal of seductive weaponry he wields to bring the heroine's panties to her knees.

But what if that lover's cache was as skimpy as old Mother Hubbard's cupboard? That would make The Voice all the more powerful, wouldn't it?

My guys are always hunks. Not perfect. But hunky, never the less. For the voice to have the impact I want, I'd have to write a hero who was on the non-descript side physically. (At first glance, at least). I have him in my head at this point. Don’t know his story or his heroine but I see him, and I’ll eventually write about him.

To tie this ramble up on a humorous note, on my way back with my coffee I pass by the owner of the Greek restaurant downstairs. He’s a pleasant, distinguished older man. Slim and upright as a blade, with neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair and kind brown eyes. He always greets me with a slight gentlemanly incline of his head, if not an outright bow, and a polite smile.

So this morning as I'm walking back to the office, totally preoccupied with thoughts of a self-contained,quietly sexy hero with a devastating voice, the restaurant proprietor greets me with his oh so correct bow.

And I winked back! (rather salaciously too, I might add. lol.)

I could barely hold his gaze after that, but I brazened it out with a smile and kept walking.