You know it was coming, didn’t you?

1/ Colin. Just Colin. What can I say? He’s smiling. His hair is wispy. He’s wearing a timeless suit and black tie. Is he sexy?

2/ Colin. The King’s Speech Colin. He’s looking very regal. Very imposing. But is he sexy? Hmmm, I’m not sure. Better take a look at some more piccies, yes?

3/ Colin. I’m-relaxed-and-happy Colin. Oh, that smile. Damn, I could lose myself in that smile.

4/ Colin. I’ve-just-won-an-award Colin. Yes, you did win an award, Mr. Firth. The award for being one of my biggest inspirations.

5/ Colin. Is-that-a-devilish-smirk Colin.

6/ Colin. *sigh*

Okay, you probably noticed I kinda stopped making comments as to why this man should be considered sexy. There’s not much I can say is there. He IS sexy and, as you’ve probably worked out by now, this Sexy Or Not edition was just a blatant excuse for me to go searching for new Colin piccies on Google. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Just to show you how damn much Colin Firth has influenced my heroes, here’s a little snippet from Copping A Feel, my erotic rom-com from Ellora’s Cave. (Note the heroine’s name – Darcy *grin*)


She started, her heart racing, her stare jerking to the framed poster for the BBC’s Pride and Prejudice hanging above her bed. “It’s a classic,” she murmured, her throat tight. She looked at the image of Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy, the epitome of the alpha romantic hero—handsome, arrogant, dominating, rent vulnerable by the one woman he fell in love with.

Arrogant. Dominating.


She closed her eyes, the image of the actor cast as her favorite fictional character replaced by an image of Jarrod St. James, his lopsided grin cocky, his eyes ablaze with undeniable desire.

Oh, Darci, what you’re thinking is lunacy, you know that, don’t you?

Jarrod’s lips moved up the column of her neck with languid intent. “‘In vain, have I struggled’,” he whispered against the sensitive dip beneath her ear. “‘It will not do’.”

The breath left Darci in a groan, the words of Jane Austen’s most famous hero flooding her sex with cream. No, it wasn’t Mr. Darcy’s quote that did it. It was Jarrod. Jarrod saying them, Jarrod knowing them, and knowing what they meant. Jarrod admitting what was between them wasn’t expected nor deniable.

Jarrod touching her, kissing her, holding her.

Jarrod. Just Jarrod.