Peter let the heavy glass door slowly swing back to place as he sauntered out into the brightening morning . Living on the east side of the city was definitely a benefit, Peter thought as he began noticing the beautiful sunrise; which he did every morning provided he wasn’t too hung over or if it was going to rain.

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“Me thinkith I shall taketh the sturdy iron horse this here fine morning.” Peter said this aloud while crossing the street with an Asian lady and her baby.
Peter took a glance at his watch before slipping on his cashmere lined leather gloves. 6:08, he had to pick up the pace if he were going to catch the #6 train to 14th street. He knew there was one at thirteen after. There was a really cute Spanish girl on that train; the last car from the back. Peter thought she might be Puerto Rican but he really didn’t have a clue. He’d seen her six times in the last three weeks. Peter loved synchronicity.

He never spoke to her, just sat close enough to catch a whiff of her. She always smelled like roses. Peter never knew himself to be partial to the smell of roses but on this girl it was wonderful. He saw the way she would look at him, always trying to appear as if she were just perusing the always nearly-empty train car.

At that time in the morning only the blue collar workers, the all niters, and the freaks rode the trains. The suits didn’t show up for another hour or so. As he would sit across from her he would devour her with his eyes, he was safe behind the cover of his ever-present sun glasses.

As he sat there thinking up sordid and sexual scenarios, becoming aroused by the rhythmic ride provided by the train, making sure his object of affection was none the wiser. He would sometimes catch himself thinking, “is this normal behavior? Do all men sit across from women and think-up sex stories. Does this happen to Fiona all day long? Was he a mental deviant?” Then poof. The bell would ring and the car would come to a stop.
Peter only took the train one stop to 14th from 23rd. All this mental and sexual energy was generated in less time than it took to drink a cup of coffee. Peter had actually noticed this one morning.

Peter had walked the two blocks in three minutes, he had two minutes to catch the 6:13 train. He turned in to the staircase of the train station on the north east corner of 23rd and Park, flew down the long narrow flight o’stairs, jumping over what appeared to be a family of bums, (but who knew if they were related), and stepped up to the turnstile.

Almost instinctually, (for Fiona had told Peter that, ‘that is what separates us from the lower animals, that we don’t follow our instincts’) he unzipped and reached into the left inside pocket of his heavy black leather and pulled out his card holder. He took off his right glove and proceeded to remove his metro card. Peter slid his car through the required slot and proceeded to slam his thigh against the steel arm of the turnstile. There was a loud bang and Peter now had a searing pain in his right quadriceps.

“What the fu@k!” Peter bellowed as he rubbed his leg and looked down into the small liquid crystal display “zero balance.” He couldn’t believe it; he had two minutes and now this.

Peter turned to see the token booth attendant watching him. He hurried out of the turnstile entrance, trotted over to the enclosure, and slapped down his trusty metro card as he pulled a wrinkled ten spot out of the front pocket of his worn five o’ones.

The token attendant gave him a broad smile and took his money. She was a rather round dark brown woman and wore her hair in braids made up of two shades of pink, or was in burgundy. Her red rouge shone off of her beautiful brown skin almost as brightly as her lipstick off of her big red lips. Peter liked that she had a gold tooth, maybe two, it was a quick smile.

The size of her breasts immediately aroused Peter; the way they swelled up over her too-tight bra and out over her much-too-tight transit employees shirt. He imagined how much tension the thread holding her button onto her shirt must be under, possibly creating a sound only dogs can hear.

Peter wanted another look at those teeth. “Why do they call this place a token booth when you come here to charge up your metro card?”

The round brown woman lit up at the sound of Peter’s deep voice. She slid his card back to him and gave him a great big grin. He was right– two gold teeth. “You have a nice day, you sweet ‘ting.” She said in a melodic island accent. He flashed her his own toothy grin; Peter had perfect white teeth and loved to show them off when ever he got the chance.

He read her name which was emblazoned on her shirt, took another look at her incredible melons, winced at the sight of the straining button and said in a deep even tone, “Now you try to stay warm in their Helen. Have a nice day.”

He heard the #6 train rumbling into the station. As he turned to go through the turnstile once again, he witnessed something he couldn’t believe. The [alleged] family of sleeping bums had obviously heard the train too, for they were now in one cumulative effort trying to pull two huge piles, of what to Peter appeared to be junk, through the arms of the turnstile. There were four, maybe five of them. The smell was awful.

Peter silently stood as the 6:13 pulled into the station. The bell rang the doors slid open, the bell signaled again and they shut. The train proceeded out of the station heading south, final destination some place in Queens, all the time carrying his rose-scented girl. From his vantage point Peter was not able to see the second to last car but he waited, there was nothing else to doing. The train picked up speed and the long line of cars made their way out of the station.

There she was. He knew it, he saw her whiz by. Sitting just where he knew she would, far side, second to last seat all the way in the back. That seat was a two-seater, one was usually guaranteed to sit alone in that seat at that time in the morning.

Don’t let the romance disappear because your pockets and wallet don’t run deep. Here’s five ways you can still have a wonderful time together without the hassle of long lines and spending a fortune. So, grab your honey and have your own little escape.

Five Romantic Ways to Spend Time With Your Love That Won’t Cost You a Bundle

1. Romanic movie marathon

My top ten picks:

1. Breakfast At Tiffany’s (1961)

2. Dirty Dancing (1987)

3. When Harry Met Sally (1989)

4. Pretty Woman (1990)

5. City of Angels (1998)

6. Sweet November (2001)

7. Kate and Leopold (2001)

8. Sweet Home Alabama (2002)

9. The Notebook (2004)

10. The Time Traveler’s Wife (2009)

2. Your Own Fondue! Prepare your very own chocolate covered fruit desert and feed each other deliciousness!

First, buy some of your favorite fruits. Choose from either or all fruits, like cherries, fresh strawberries, pineapple, blueberries or apples.

If you are your snuggle buddy aren’t fruit fanatics, or simply want to try something new, you can get walnuts, almonds, and pecans and dip away!

Next, get some dark, milk, and or white melting chocolate. If you are going to use the pineapple and apples, cut them up into edible slices. Place all your fruit pieces or nuts into a large bowl and start dipping into the chocolate delight! Whatever the fruit or nut may be, chocolate makes it much tastier!

3. Picnic for two. Have a picnic in the park or even in your backyard if you have a lawn with privacy. Leave all electronic devices at home, or if you must, leave them in the car. If you’re driving there, leave the car parked, and take a stroll through the park first. Then come back for your meal. This is your time together. There is nowhere to rush to so enjoy each moment together. If you’re feeling adventurous, bring along two bikes and you can both ride together. If you happen to live near New York City, take a walk through Central Park, where you can find your own cozy spot just for the two of you. Or, if you are up for the walk, cross over the Brooklyn Bridge. There are breathtaking view of New York and perfect spots of photos.

4. Sale Sale Sale! Look through the local paper for listings of garage sales, flea markets, farmer’s markets or even an arts and crafts show. You don’t have to buy anything, but just can spend the morning or afternoon looking at antiques and other peoples treasures. Who knows what you may find!

5. Touchy Feely Time. Massages these days can cost a fortune. Why pay the money, when you can have your own, free of charge at home-by yours truly? Take turns giving each other a massage, slowly, showing your partner you care about their needs. Both of you have had a hard week at work, and need the down time to rest and unwind. You can use lotion or oil, depending on what your partner prefers.

 Remember, being romantic doesn’t mean you have to spend your whole paycheck in one night. Take the time to talk to one another and understand what each of you needs and wants. Romance doesn’t have a price tag. Spending time together, making each other laugh, and listening to one another’s thoughts and feelings is as intimate as you can get. Go ahead, and enjoy!

           Take a deep breath and prepare to immerse your mind and body to fall in love with the ferocious passion, devotion and powerful compassion two individuals can have for one another, in Lisa Marie Rice’s premier in her Protector series romance, Into The Crossfire. Rice tastefully weaves danger intertwined with a love so strong that it drives a former Navy SEAL, Sam Reston to take all his prior training and do everything in his power and beyond to save Nicole Pearce, the woman that sends his body, mind, and heart into shock.

            Reston, founder of Reston Security with the help of his two best friends, also known as his brothers, and also ex-Special Forces agents, is nothing less of extraordinary. Although at first glance, his demeanor may seem intimidating and his strong willed physique sends the wrong message to Pearce, a stunning woman, both physically and in her dedication to care for her ill father and keep afloat of her brand new company. Reston had a harsh childhood growing up, with two negligent mother’s and made a promise to himself to protect women and children from harm. Now, his life revolves around protecting battered women and children and keeping them safe from violent creatures, who are beneath what a genuine man is. While Reston is on an undercover job, he manages to avert his attention to the alluring beauty across the hall from him, and makes it his duty to make her his- no matter what the consequences.

          Although Reston has had his fair share of beautiful women, none of them even dare to compare to the breath taking gorgeous woman that walks past his office every morning. His desire for her is burning inside him and consumes his thoughts and his sexual yearning. Pearce, a well traveled and educated, intelligent and politely mannered woman sees nothing but a dingy, unshaven and in a desperate need for a head to toe grooming, huge bulk of a man. When Sam comes to her rescue after she leaves her office key at home, her payment to him comes in the form of a dinner that leads to a ground shaking and skin pulsating relationship.

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       Underneath all of Sam’s undercover grime, Nicole finds a handsome, honest and honorable man. They both plunge head first into the unknown that leaves them gasping for more of each other.

Excerpt:

           It was unthinkable that there be anything separating them. It was as if they both came to that conclusion together, at the very same instant. She reached up, swept his jacket off those broad shoulders. Her shaking fingers tugged at his tie and before it floated to the ground, she was at this shirt buttons, freeing the round bits of plastic from the eyeholes, pulling the tails out from his pants. She couldn’t take off his shirt because his hands were on her bottom, holding her up, so the shirt fell off his shoulders just enough for her to feel the curly chest hairs and hard muscles of his chest against her. It was maddening that she still had the barriers of her dress and bra between them. She ached to feel him, hard to soft. Absorb some of that strength and heat through her skin.

          Nicole, whose whole body is utterly rattled in the most profound way, tries desperately to comprehend what Sam means to her. Despite being preoccupied with tending to her father and building up her company, nothing can keep her away from Sam. The fierce bond Reston and Pearce share is beyond sexual intimacy and is tested in the final seconds he must protect her. Sam’s animal instinct hunger for Nicole may have been physical at first, but his whole world becomes blurred with only her in focus, when danger quietly slips into her business door, threatening her life and the innocent lives in New York. With the help of his brothers, Reston must step head on into the crossfire, to save the life of the woman his body and intellect aches for, her dying father, and New York.

Purchase your copy here.

Also, be on the look out for an exclusive interview with the author, Lisa Marie Rice! 

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Last year Peter had heard a city bus with a hole in its manifold. The bus would make a strange, almost bagpipe like sound. It was deemed, “the singing bus”.
Since the busses would run different routes all the time, you wouldn’t know where you would be in Manhattan and suddenly you would hear this weird sound that didn’t quite fit in. “The singing bus”.
Now it wasn’t a sound that one would hear unless being alerted to it. It would sort of float under all the hustle and bustle of the city, remaining unnoticed by the majority of the city’s inhabitants.
Max knew this for a fact. One night after drinking in a bar with a party from school, upon leaving, he heard, “the singing bus”.
He shouted out happily, “the singing bus, the singing bus, I hear the wonderful singing bus.”
Since that night that same group of friends won’t allow Max to drink more than two beers while in their company. They say he can’t handle it. Needless to say Max doesn’t see them socially any longer.

“I don’t hear anything, maybe…”
“Shhhhh. Man. Can’t you hear that?” It was like Peter was in a trance, listening wholly.
Max wanted to get there, to where Peter was, able to here this sound.
“Man, it’s like the generator at work, I can almost feel it in my bones. It’s like it’s under us, but at the same time its like all around us man.” Peter said in a hushed voice.
“The singing bus?”
“Nah, this is something else. Something I’ve been hearing for some time, too.”
As Max tried to use those cryptic clues to hone in on this strange sound, Peter snapped out of his trancelike state.
“Let’s go cop a bag down by the park.” Peter wanted to smoke another joint before he was to go home.
“You know the weed is for shit and there are plenty of cops out on a night like tonight.”
“Yeah but I just figured that…”
Max interrupted Peter’s train of thought by offering a cigarette. Don’t you have work in the morning?” Max finally asked after lighting his cigarette.
Peter gave a long pull on his Camel Light, not his particular brand of choice but a smoke’s a smoke. “Why? What time is it?”
Max didn’t need to look at his watch; he’d been watching the time for a couple of hours now. In fact, he was the one who suggested that they start to get going back at the bar. “Well it’s getting late, it’s about quarter past two. How about I start to walk you home? I’ll go with you up to Fourteenth.” This being their usual custom- walking each other most of the way home.
The two friends didn’t live too far apart. Peter was living up on Twenty-Fourth Street, between Second and Third with his girlfriend, Fiona. Max was on Tenth Street between First and Second. Their walk together would take them past Max’s block but Max would walk with Peter up to Fourteenth Street.
Once past Fourteenth the neighborhood would change for the better. Fourteenth Street being the borderline, beginning and ending the East Village, depending on which direction you were walking, north or south.
Max elected to walk with Peter rather than being left at his door for fear of leaving Peter to walk the rest of the way through the East Village alone. For some reason that Max could not figure out, Peter had this aversion to going home when it would get late. Despite the facts that he had to get up early for work in the morning and that one of the world’s most beautiful women was waiting for Peter each night when he got there.
Peter really needed to get home. It was getting late and he had work the next day. Max headed up Second Ave. Peter followed. It seemed the night was coming to an end.

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Max realizing the severity of the situation, extended his big Swedish hand, and in his best American accent, said, “Hello, I’m max. I’m a friend of Alex. I’m a student at school with Alex.”
Seeing that his friend Alex already had some sort of report with the seething madman, Max figured using that relationship as common ground would be a safe place to begin.
“ Can I buy you a beer?” Max offered and smiled his biggest smile.
As Peter listened to the big blonde man speak in his singsong manner his anger subsided. The rhythm in which max’s Swedish affected the English he spoke had a soothing effect on peter’s mood. He spoke in an upbeat, almost bouncy fashion. It reminded peter of the Swedish baker, from the Muppets, one of his favorite characters.
“What’s with the picture, bud?” Peter asked again, his tone less hostile, his volume lower.
“ It’s Max, like I had said and I only took the picture because I thought it was a great shot and figured you might like one.”
There it was — whenever max got caught “voyering out of bounds” or taking pictures of unassuming women in the streets, beaches, or wherever the urge may hit, his one successful excuse had been the, ‘it’s as much for you as it is for me’ excuse.
So, Max promised Peter a copy of the photo in exchange for his life and the beer that he offered earlier. One beer led to another, then to a pool game, then a shot of something soothing elixir, probably another beer, some more pool, many more shots, some more beer to wash down the shots. A friendship was in bloom.

Max quickly caught up to Peter, he was stuffing his hat into his pocket.
“You’d think you would be used to the cold, being from Sweden and all.” Peter said without turning to see if Max was there. Max was always there.
“It’s not cold tonight, pretty warm considering its November and all.” Max retorted as he closed his pace with Peter.
The two friends walked in step in the greatest city in the world. On any given night you could see these two at almost any part of New York City — uptown, downtown, eastside or west: gallery openings, cigar bars, techno raves, Irish beer joints, rock-n-roll biker bars [biker babes included], book stores, all night bodegas, anywhere anytime, anyhow.
They had a special relationship, always finding it hard to part company.

“Your place or mine, big boy.” Peter said jokingly, as he searched his pockets for an empty packet of cigarettes he used to carry around the drug of choice for the evenings festivities.
Tonight it was marijuana and coffee. They started the night smoking a couple of joints at Peter’s place and drinking some really strong espresso.
This was one of their “things”, pot and coffee. THC and caffeine — what a rush! The THC making all of your sense receptors more alert, the caffeine speeding up the blood flow, along with the broncodialation which creates a more oxygen rich atmosphere for the brain. Your blood is flowing faster, your brain is thinking deeper, there’s more of everything.

The first stop on a usual pot and coffee night was an all night magazine store. There was row upon row of magazine print. Titles ablaze in bright yellow, or rich orange, thousands of names, titles too numerous to count in such a state.
The mix of bright neon lights glowing kaleidoscopic colors and the radiant florescent lights shining down from the ceiling created an aura like effect, allowing the shiny covers of the multitude of magazines to take on an almost holy appearance.
Each magazine losing its own identity — blending, miraculously melting into each other. Elle, and Cosmo, Modern Mechanic and Better Homes & Gardens, Busty Babes, and Foot Fetish vol., 2. all creating this one, huge, pulsating wall of visual input.
Talk about eye candy, this was a veritable smorgasbord of ocular confection.
After standing in the store for what seemed like hours, probably minutes. (Another one of those freaky time things.) They would suddenly have to rush out of the store. Obviously suffering from a severe case of T.M.I., To much input. There on the bustling city street they stood staring at each other. Wow! What a mind blower.

After that it would be the usual, or rather an unusual walk around the city. This would last until either the climate or need of a change of pace would lead them into a bar.
On “pot and coffee nights” it was discovered that too much alcohol was not a good thing.
“Wastes the head.” Peter would say.” Get too damn drunk to appreciate to high, after a while you’re just drunk.”
That happened to be something Peter hated, just drunk. He liked to blend his highs, a little pot, a little coke, maybe a few pills. But please, not just drunk.
Tonight “pot and coffee night” landed them in the Grassroots Tavern. They believed that many famous writers had sat and pondered their literary masterpieces over a pint of ale, in this their favorite watering hole. They didn’t know for sure of course, the place just had that kinda feel to it. Plus it was better than believing that it was just another dive with a dart board. That was one of the reasons that Peter and Max loved the old place.
The other reasons being, it had a great backroom for throwing darts and the fact that the very small crowd of regulars seldom looked up from their drinks, they liked people who respected their privacy. It was their place to relax and escape from the pressures of life. A place to work out many of life’s questions over a game of darts and a pint of ale with the only person who you felt understood you.
“Where the f*%k is that joint?” Peter continued to rummage through his many layers of clothes.

Inside the True Romance gift set ($60), you’ll find a fragrant product for each part of the bod. Bath bombs (really fun to watch fizz before your eyes and over your body) and emotibombs (meant for sharing), a delightfully rose-scented yin-yang shaped soap, a heart shaped massage bar with a chocolate center, shower gel,  and a honey flavored lip balm.

The shower gel included is their Flying Fox, with ingredients said to help PMS: honey and jasmine. Combined they smell great and give you a sense of well being and soft skin.  But men like it just as much as women, so you and your guy can share. And it can also double as a shampoo!

And the lip balm is Honey Trap, made from Shea butter, olive oil, honey, beeswax, white chocolate, and vanilla for ultra-kissable lips. Truly addictive!

Check out other great products from LUSH, like their version of a Pumice Stone (body butter with tiny pumice stone pieces) called Running To The Embassy, $11.65, and worth every penny!

Then, make your foot extra smooth and moisturized with their amazing mask for feet! Put Volcano Foot Mask ($20) on your feet, wrap your tootsies up in plastic bags or cling wrap, wait 20 minutes, and rinse.  It’ll bring you from flats to sandals weather and back again. You’re dry heels with thank you!

That’s a yes for me! This year, yours truly, fabulous and fearless editor extraordinaire, will be tying the knot in lovely June.

Among other things, since I was first proposed to, I had looked forward to trying on and finding *the* dress. But let me tell you, it was not the magical mystery tour I was expecting.

Click Below For Wedding Gown How-To’s

1.) Go with  Mom and your maid of honor. Above all else, do not go to a bridal shop alone! It’s like going swimming in the ocean at night—by yourself.  The shop lady will tell you the most ghastly numbers are the one.  They’ll give you the hard sell. And you do not want to believe them, because after 2 hours of trying on tulle petticoats and 20-pound gowns (oh yeah, most are that heavy), a part of you may want to believe them just to get out of there.

Most bridal shops require a deposit, and once you put that $ down, you’re committed—that will be your dress.

2.) Don’t let the prices scare you. Try on any dress you like, no matter how much it costs. Maybe you can afford it, maybe you can’t, but that’s not the point. The point is, how many sassy, practical women of today want to throw down 4 digits  on a big dress that has a limited lifespan? So, for you thrifty gals, I have a solution: Find the designer you like and go to their bridal shop. (I love Augusta Jones!)

Then, try on all the gowns you want. Have someone take your measurements, and commission a seamstress to copy the drool-worthy design using any fabric(s) and colors you want. You can add to the dress, or take something away from it and make it truly your own!

Check local seamstress shops with a good reputation and ask to see their previous work or some proof that they can actually do it without botching it up. (They’ll tell you they can do it even if they can’t—everyone will. A job is a job in times like these.) If you don’t find anyone you feel you can put your faith into, no prob, go to Etsy.com or search Google and find the seamstress that’s right for you!

3.) Since you’ll be throwing a bit of cash around, consider making it count for double. Brides Against Breast Cancer sells excellent condition designer gowns from Kleinfeild’s, Vera Wang, Eve of Milady, etc., for a fraction of the cost, and your cash sponsors breast cancer research. Knowing that part of your love went to a woman in need is wildly satisfying. And wondering about all the romance the bride who wore the dress before you felt just adds to the excitement! B.A.B.C. travels around the U.S. throughout the year, setting up shop in different venues, like Bloomingdale’s.

4.) Do not buy your veil and tiara/headpiece on the same day as your gown. You really want to look around and find the best priced, nicest veil you can find, and more often than not, that’s not going to be at a bridal shop, no matter how posh. You’ll want to scour as many wedding veil and wedding headpiece only stores you can find.

Keep in mind that a lot of veils and tiaras are heavy. When you’re trying them on, keep your fave on your head  for 30-45 minutes while you’re in the store trying on diff headpieces, ribbons, and hair combs. Keep the veil on as you try each new piece so you can get a slight idea of how it’ll feel on your head for 5-6 hours. Look for one that doesn’t give you a megatron headache.

5.) Space out veil and headpiece shopping over the course of a few weeks so you can recover from the soreness metal, brass, and sterling prongs sticking into your temples and other parts of your head will give you.

These tips have helped me find my perfect dress! Good luck & congratulations future brides!

And current brides—Let’s hear from you: What tips do you wish you knew before you went bridal gown, veil, shoe shopping?

3 lucky responders will receive a sexy, steamy vampire romance novel!

Especially when one considers the fact that the Mormon Church still allowed the practice of polygamy—until 1935! It’s not rocket science why equal rights for women took decades, and is still an issue that sparks controversy in America, and in nearly every other country.

The idea that women are inferior to men remains rooted in traditions, like  in weddings. That famous last line the clergymen says: “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

It’s a minor detail that goes unnoticed by most, but once you actually pay attention to the words, it’s impossible, as a woman, to be pleased that such discrepancies in equality are still passed around so freely. Some parsons do say “husband and wife,” and to them we tip our hat and say thank you.

What little ways have you noticed inequality in everyday life? Is it still a man’s world? Tell us your thoughts!!

Two lucky commenters will receive the February and March issues of True Romance magazine.