Here’s six sentences from my Nanowrimo project this year, Blame the Moonlight, a contemporary romance:
Royce paused at the threshold, his grip on the doorknob whitening his knuckles and his deep hazel eyes full of the question they had avoided all evening.
The whine of a mosquito joined the dry rustling patter of the moth’s wings at the light.
Faith shivered and the dry desert air was suddenly thick and her heart leapt into an anxious beat. She was like that moth, irresistibly drawn to what she shouldn’t want and couldn’t have.
A second moth collided with the light, startling her into that step forward.
Arms wrapped, mouths touched, and the steady burn of need flared out of denial into surrender.
You can find more Sunday Sixes here.