Thursday Thirteen (The one about Gabriel Law)

Thirteen Things about the HERO in Law of Averages

1. The hero is a very sexy rock-star named Gabriel Law.


2. He is from London, so if you're thinking sexy accent, you'd be correct.


3. Mastering both piano and violin by age seven, many would have called him a musical prodigy, but instead of following in his mother's footsteps, classically trained pianist Marguerite Law, he chose a wilder path.


4. He's the founder and lead singer of Grammy award winning rock band, Rough Cut.


5. Early in his career, a Rolling Stone interviewer asked him if he was named for the archangel Gabriel, to which he laughingly replied “Did you say arch angel or dark angel”, unwittingly giving himself the nickname that he’s since become known as -- The Dark Angel of Rock.


6. He's got an angel wing tattoo on his right shoulder and bicep.


7. His band, Benny Heven (drummer), Luke Malone (bass guitar) and Melvin “Grinder” George (guitar) have been with him ever since he recorded his first demo album at age seventeen.


8. Rough Cut's first hit, the anthemic Win or Die is still played at sporting events worldwide, twenty years after its initial release.


9. Twelve multi-platinum albums, always mysteriously named after gemstones, have garnered the band numerous music industry awards. Fans are anxiously awaiting the follow-up to their 2006 RUBY Album.


10. Gabriel's struggling to finish his next album so he retreats to peaceful, picturesque Bermuda for in search of his muse.


11. His muse appears in the form of a naked woman in his holiday cottage.


12. Restaurateur, Megan Frost, manages to get his creative juices simmering.


13. Gabriel's fave flavor of ice cream is vanilla, as seen in the following excerpt...
    

By reading any further, you are stating that you
are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
An Excerpt From: LAW OF AVERAGES
Copyright © WYLIE KINSON,
2008
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“Vanilla?” she asked when he came out holding two cones, the chocolate one for her.
“What’s wrong with vanilla?” he asked, taking a seat beside her on a bench in the shade.
“Nothing, I guess. It happens to one of my favorites, but I’m surprised that you would pick something so,” unremarkable, boring, “average, plain. I had you
pegged as a mint chocolate chip kind of guy, or maybe rocky road.” She purposely
didn’t order the vanilla lest she knock her average status down to mundane. There was simply no imagination in vanilla, or so she thought.
“There’s nothing plain about it, Megan, and contrary to popular belief, vanilla is a flavor.”
“Technically, yes.”
“Vanilla is rich, pure, creamy.” He drew the last word out before running his tongue up the
side of the rounded mound. His eyes, flashing a mixture of mischief and lust, locked on hers, sending her wicked thoughts of other mounds under that tongue.
“And I don’t like to have to chew my ice cream. I like it smooth, so it melts in my mouth and slides down my throat.” His eyes grew dark as the corners of his mouth twitched up. His thigh brushed against hers.Megan gulped, his innuendo was as clear as the cloudless sky. Heat pooled between her legs, making her sorry she didn’t wear panties. She squirmed in her seat, felt the slickness between her thighs.
“You’re dripping.”
Gah! How could he know? She was dizzy with excitement, embarrassment, and the feverish
heat that began between her legs rose all the way up her body until her cheeks reddened in a full-on blush. She pressed her thighs tightly together. Maybe he could smell her. She inhaled deeply, searching for that telltale scent of arousal, but all she smelled was flowers, ice cream and him—his masculine, sun-touched skin, like a breeze from heaven.
“You’d better start licking,” he said, holding out a napkin. His eyes locked on her lips.
Megan glanced down.

Ah, dripping.

Her knuckles were covered in rivers of chocolate as the ice cream succumbed to the heat.

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