On the Fifth Day of Sauciness
My true love gave to me:
Five Hot Book Boyfriends
Book boyfriends... we all have them and there's no point in denying it or fighting it. They've crawled, ever so deviously, so deep under your skin that you can almost feel them. I tend to fall for the bad-ass guys, strong, fierce, stubborn, sarcastic and funny. Guys who know who they are, what they want and aren't afraid to go after it. Guys who can use words just as well as any weapon they have so skillfully mastered in using, some more than others.... *sigh*
And of course it doesn't hurt that they're undeniably gorgeous and sexy, so much that it makes your knees weak and you feel the need to *fanself* and sigh out loud.
|"Oh my, good Gracious Plenty"|
# 5: Crispin Phillip Arthur Russell III a.k.a. Bones
"... high cheekbones, dark brows framing eyes turned to emerald, a curving mouth, straight nose, and etched jawline. Crystal skin stretched over those features and tightly wrapped around a lean, rippled frame. His elegant hands and their long, tapered fingers. My God, he was beautiful. Absolutely, incredibly beautiful."
# 4: Eric Northman
"The vampire he'd indicated was handsome, in fact, radiant; blond and blue-eyed, tall and broad shouldered. He was wearing boots, jeans, and a vest. Period. Kind of like the guys on the cover of romance books."
"If there were an international butt competition, Eric would win, hands down—or cheeks up."
# 3: Jamie Fraser
"A Highlander in full regalia is an impressive sight—any Highlander, no matter how old, ill-favored, or crabbed in appearance. A tall, straight-bodied, and by no means ill-favored young Highlander at close range is breath-taking."
"It was the same broad, good-humored face, dark blue eyes aslant the high, flat cheekbones of a Viking, long mouth curling at the ends as though always on the verge of smiling. The lines surrounding eyes and mouth were deeper, of course. The nose had changed just a bit. The knife-edge bridge was slightly thickened near the base by the ridge of an old, healed fracture. It made him look fiercer, I thought, but lessened that air of aloof reserve, and lent his appearance a new rough charm."
# 2: Ethan Sullivan
"He was tall, two or three inches over six feet, and lean like a swimmer—narrow waist, broad shoulders, long legs. His hair was straight, shoulder-length, and golden-blond. His face was chiseled—knife-edge cheekbones and a firm jaw, his brow strong, his lips worth calling home about. He was dressed in a black suit that fit his body like a glove, beneath which was an impeccably white dress shirt, top button unclasped, no tie."
# 1: Jericho Z Barrons
"He didn't just occupy space; he saturated it. The room had been full of books before, now it was full of him. About thirty, six foot two or three, he had dark hair, golden skin, and dark eyes. His features were strong, chiseled. I couldn't pinpoint his nationality any more than I could his accent; some kind of European crossed with Old World Mediterranean or maybe an ancestor with dark Gypsy blood. He wore an elegant, dark gray Italian suit, a crisp white shirt, and a muted patterned tie. He wasn't handsome. That was too calm a word. He was intensely masculine. He was sexual. He attracted. There was an omnipresent carnality about him, in his dark eyes, in his full mouth, in the way he stood."
"One of the things I realized when I’d been grieving him was how attractive I find him. Barrons is … addictive. He grows on you until you can’t begin to imagine anyone you’d like to look at more. He wears his dark hair slicked back from his face, sometimes cut, sometimes long, as if he can’t be bothered to regularly get it trimmed. I now know why, at well over six feet of long, hard muscle, he moves with such animal grace. His forehead, nose, mouth, and jaw bear the stamp of a gene pool that died out long ago, blended with whatever it is that makes him the beast. Though symmetrical, with strong planes and angles, his face is too primitive to be handsome."