I know many of you enjoy Alpha heroes that are still Beta enough to cradle a baby and yet tough enough to protect a woman. In my HOT ZONE series at Samhain Publishing www.samhainpublishing.com, I wanted to introduce these heroes in “slice-of-life” stories set in a small Wyoming town. So far the response has been outstanding, and the next installment is CLOSE QUARTERS (May 20 release). How did I get the idea for this story? Well, I was hanging around one day doing dishes by hand (boring). I saw in my imagination a man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt with horrible colors that was way too big for him. I saw him sitting in a diner being covertly observed by a woman. The woman thinks his Hawaiian shirt is ugly. A few moments later, her hasty impression of him is altered forever when the coffee shop is robbed. Here’s a blurb and excerpt to give you a small taste of CLOSE QUARTERS:

Neena Williamson is positive the man who just walked into her favorite café is all wrong for the local charity’s new hot male calendar. For starters, he’s wearing the most butt-ugly Hawaiian shirt on the face of the earth. He doesn’t fit anyone’s image of a smokin’ hardbody, even if her friend insists he’s perfect for Mr. December. When a gunman robs the café, Mr. December proves that underneath his bad taste in clothes, he knows how to bring it. Clarksville, Wyoming is the perfect place for Mitch Gilroy to hide in plain sight. He enjoys his low-key handyman job, and no one pries into his former life. But in an instant, Mitch is forced to remember everything he’s tried so hard to forget. Thrown together by sudden violence, Neena and Mitch quickly discover how tangled their emotions can become. And the only way to banish the monsters that haunt them is to do the one thing they fear most. Become vulnerable—to each other.

He moved swiftly, pressing her back into the corner, his body a shield. If anything ricocheted, he’d feel the sting of a bullet first.
Her face buried against his shoulder and he wrapped one arm around her waist. The other hand came up and cradled her head to his shoulder. Her fingers twisted in his shirt, bunching gobs of the loose garment in her fists. He held her like that, his breath coming quickly, her heart slamming in her chest, for what seemed forever. The shots stopped. Dragging noises and the sounds of something massive being pulled in front of the door startled her.
She pulled back slightly. “Oh God.”
Handyman’s eyes no longer held ice. Those deep brown eyes turned dark with serious worry. “Are you hit?”
“What?” She felt dazed.
“Are you hit?”
“No. I’m great.”
Right. If that wasn’t the stupidest, most absurd thing she’d ever said. She trembled from head to toe, and the shock of what happened reverberated through her in waves.
“You…are you okay?” she asked, the words escaping with a dry croak.
“I’m great.”
She registered the heat and hardness of his body. Her breasts mashed to his chest, his hips and thighs pressed along hers. Close up, his face held the chiseled hardness of an old west movie hero, without anything fancy to pretty him up. A cut jaw, a nose slightly on the big side. Only his mouth was sculpted, lips just right on a man—not too big, not too thin. He felt so warm, so protective—
He released her and walked toward the door. He tried the knob. When it didn’t budge, he slammed one palm against it. He tried kicking it down, but the door wouldn’t budge. She realized the room was a huge pantry with shelves on three sides. No way out.
Handyman tried budging the door one more time to no avail. “Damn it!”
That’s when true fear slammed her. Like it or not, she was trapped in a locked room with a total stranger. Tears gathered in her eyes and spilled over her eyelids before she could stop them. Handyman turned toward her, striding across the room until he cupped her shoulders.
“Hey, it’s going to be all right.”
She nodded and buried her face in her hands. “I know. I just…”
Tears spilled, and a sob escaped her.
“Hey, hey. Easy.” He gathered her close once more, and she found her hands buried in his big shirt again. As tears spilled from her and she gulped and sobbed, she tried to regain control. Embarrassment sliced her with cruel fingers. His touch slipped through her hair, gently massaging her neck.
“It’s all right. He’s gone.” Velvet and husky, his voice held safety and comfort.
Poor fashion sense or not, his voice was to die for.
So was the body pressed along hers. She felt muscles. Lots and lots of glorious muscles. Or maybe the fear had destroyed her reasoning ability and she wanted the man holding her to play the hero. Right now, with a tenderness that put her off guard, he fit the lead part in her adventure movie down to a capital T.
Only difference is, he hadn’t whipped out a gun and gone Kung Fu on the bad guy’s ass. Which in reality made perfect sense. If Handyman had played knight on a white horse, they’d be dead. She shivered and then did another stupid thing. She slid her arms around his waist and held on. Yeah, he has a trim waist, too. Hmmm…
“When that jerk pointed his gun in your face, I thought he was going to kill you right in front of me,” she whispered through a sob.
“So did I.”
His voice rumbled deeply, so matter-of-fact she couldn’t believe how distant he sounded. His arms tightened around her in a gentle squeeze, the only sign that he felt anything about his near miss with death.
“You had a gun pointed at your head, and here I am babbling like an idiot.” She gulped back another sob.
“So did you, remember? You were looking right down the barrel for a long time.”
Right. She had. Her tears started to dry, and the fright calmed somewhat. She forced herself to pull back out of his arms. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go all girly like that.”
“It’s okay. What just happened scared the shit out of me, too.”
A man who’d admit his fear. Interesting. His expression might show no fear and his voice gave no indication of the trauma he’d faced. Yet he could speak the words.
Neena became aware of a shift in perception. Not a smidgen of change, but a whopping ugly belief that she’d altered in the last few minutes. That the world had undergone a drastic, nasty transformation. She’d never believed in a rosy world, but this one had sharp thorns. She held her hands in front of her. They shook. A heat wave and then a cold flash washed over her in relentless strokes. Her stomach curled. Shaking, she put her back against the one wall minus shelving and slid downward until she plopped on the floor. Cold and hard, the landing felt brutal against her ass. Incongruously she noticed a run in the right calf of her thigh-high stockings. A jagged, gaping slit that might have been there before the robber came into the coffee shop, or maybe happened sometime in between. Who knew? Who cared? For a second she gave a damn. A really big damn. Then she took a shaky breath. She was acting like an immature, shallow twit. She’d buy more. Ten pairs more if she survived her stay in this stupid pantry. Then she wanted to smack the robber across the face with her purse for the inconvenience.
* *

Hope you liked that snippet and that you enjoy finding out what secrets this “Handyman” hero has hidden in his past. Will there be other HOT ZONE stories after CLOSE QUARTERS. I’m not sayin’ yet, but it’s possible. I never say never.

As an aside, I hope you stop over at DANGER ZONE AUTHORS www.dangerzoneauthors.com when you get the chance. Danger Zone authors is comprised of several novelists who write novels with danger, suspense and action/adventure. Some of write romance, some not, but all of us love writing about the DANGER ZONE. If you stop by our website you can also sign up for our new readers group. Hope to see you there!

As a celebration of the release of CLOSE QUARTERS on May 20 at Samhain Publishing www.samhainpublishing.com, at the end of the day I’ll select a winner from the comments today to receive a free download of OVER THE LINE, my novella featuring Special Investigations Agency characters. Tell me what you like about romantic suspense and action adventure novels, and if you like military heroes, why? What makes you hot for the military man?

A Medieval Scotsman!  Woo hoo! 

BRIDGE THROUGH THE MIST
Denise A. Agnew
Available now at Ellora’s Cave www.ellorascave.com

When Alenna Carstairs is hurled through time into 1318, Scotland’s medieval world brings her face to face with hot, sexy Tynan of  MacBrahin. Infuriated with his barbaric manners, and yet sensing
vulnerability within him, she vows to discover the heartbreak that has scarred his soul.
World-weary knight, Tynan of MacBrahin lost two loves to the brutality  of other men. He can’t forgive himself for failing to protect the women who depended on him. When Alenna saves his life, her independent spirit  stirs desires so strong within him he can’t resist her. A depraved baron soon wants Alenna for his own, and Tynan must find a way to conquer this  powerful man to save her.

Alenna struggles with soul-staggering desire for Tynan, but most of all, she must convince Tynan his love is not lethal, and she is the one who can bring shine to his armor again.

Buy it here!

“Recommended Read! There is one word to describe Bridge Through the
Mist…sensational…”
Fallen Angel Reviews

“Four hearts…an exceptional tale of medieval times…The sexual
tension between these two characters was scorching…I highly recommend
this to anyone looking for a lot of action, sizzling passion and a
battle of wills that will keep the reader completely engrossed to the
very last page. Great job, Ms. Agnew. I look forward to reading more
from this wonderful author.”
Romance Studio

A water witch, Isabelle Novak has always led a chaotic, nomadic existence. But her life spins out of control when her sister—her only friend and emotional anchor — is killed by a demon. Driven by grief and a desire for revenge, she turns her back on the Coven and the rede they hold sacred: Harm thee none...

When Isabelle first encounters Thomas Monahan, she’s running on pure rage and sorrow, channeling her pain into power — and trying to freeze the life out of a warlock she holds responsible for her sister’s death. Together, they form an uneasy alliance to hunt and destroy a demon of tremendous power. As head of the Coven, earth witch Thomas must thwart Isabelle’s dark impulses, but his very presence stirs deeper desires she never knew she had…

Buy here! Or here!

I had everything a woman could want.

My husband James. The house on the lake. My life. Our perfect life. And then Alex came to visit. The first time I saw my husband’s best friend, I didn’t like him. Didn’t like how James changed when he was around, didn’t like how his penetrating eyes followed me everywhere. But that didn’t stop me from wanting him. And surprisingly, James didn’t seem to mind.

It was meant to be fun. Something the three of us shared for those hot summer weeks Alex stayed with us. Nobody was supposed to fall in or out of love. I didn’t need another man, not even one who oozed sex like honey and knew all the secrets I didn’t know, the secrets my husband hadn’t shared. After all, we had a perfect life. I loved my husband.

But I wasn’t the only one.

Buy it here or here or here.

Last week I finished the first draft on my latest book and decided I’d celebrate. Because I’ve been in the writing business a long time, I think I’ve become lax in acknowledging and rewarding myself for achievements. A new book comes out, I finish a first draft, I get a great review, a reader sends me a fan letter…you name it, I tend not to celebrate it. Like most people, I sometimes overemphasize the importance or relevance of a bad event, like a less than stellar review.   I forget the fact that most of the time, 99.9 percent of the time, the reviews I get are favorable to fantastic. 

One of the ways I decided to reward myself is to remember that taking time off after I write a novel is a GOOD idea. In fact, it’s healthy. After all, writing a novel is a creative endeavor. Recharging the creative well is one of those things, like celebrating a great review, which authors can get in the habit of forgetting. We tend to say, “need to get on the stick” and start researching that next book, etc., etc. I have a strong work ethic, so staying at home doing absolutely nothing but whatever blows my skirt up seems somehow LAZY with capital letters. Then there is the fear factor. What if I take a week off and decide not to write ever again? Not likely. 

One thing I did to feel less guilty about recharging the creative well was to make a list of other activities I wanted to accomplish besides writing. I cleaned and polished furniture and did other chores. As far as fun things for the creative well, I’ve read three fantastic books in the last three weeks. This Monday I was recharged and ready to look at the first draft of the book with fresh eyes. The week I took off from writing was good for me, and I’m so glad I did it. 

HUGE congrats to Denise Agnew who finaled in the Passionate Plume Contest! Go Denise! The book she finaled with was Male Call, the first book in her Hot Zone series available from Samhain. I read it and I LOVED it. Woot!

Her sexy letters are his only lifeline in his dangerous world…

Successful computer software engineer Eve Carmichael melts under yet another hotter than hot letter written by Reserve army soldier Sean O’Callahan. Yet Eve can’t take the thought of his life in danger overseas, and she resolves to get a sex life—and a life period. That means forgetting Sean before anything bad can happen to him. To celebrate her thirty-fifth birthday, Eve plans a trip to Male Call, a male review club. Still, she worries about Sean. She hasn’t received a letter from him in too many weeks. And oh, how she longs for those flirtatious, hot letters.

Sean finds Eve’s letters to be the only lifeline in his increasingly chaotic world. As their feelings grow hot and heavy, he can’t wait to return home and kindle that pure firepower.

When Eve receives a letter from Sean saying he’s been wounded, her fears are realized. But fate and a little mischievous planning by her friends will serve up the greatest surprise of all.

You can buy it here.

Other books in the series. Aren’t these some HOT covers? Wow!

You can buy them here, here, and the next one here- on sale May 20!

Here’s a new release from more Bradford Bunchers!

Behind closed doors, the real games begin…

Winning it big.

That’s the name of the game at Las Vegas’s Liege Hotel and Casino, where the hottest fantasies hinge on a roll of the dice…and the tantalizing knowledge that anything could happen before sunrise.

Cocktail waitress Carinna wants a man to tie her up, not tie her down. Little does she know that her most willing partner yet has something else planned for this fiery Latina bombshell.

Dahlia is a burlesque dancer with a brain for business and a bod for sin. Her latest admirer may be a sweet-talking Casanova, but despite what he thinks she’s not giving anything away free.

Meanwhile, Amy has the perfect plan to rob the Liege Casino blind…until the intimidating owner catches her red-handed. Now she knows she’s going to pay… with both pleasure and pain.

Professional shill Cassidy is ready to experience a breathless rendezvous with her “friend with benefits.” But when he proposes five delicious nights of sexy blackjack, the stakes have never been so high.

Can be purchased here or here.

And last, but certainly not least is Cynthia Eden’s new release! Woot!

In her sexy and suspenseful new novel, Cynthia Eden introduces readers to a seductive world where powerful night creatures ignite dark, dangerous hungers…

Dr. Emily Drake’s patients tend to be a little unusual. Instead of the typical therapist’s caseload of midlife crises and mother fixations, Emily treats vampires with blood phobias and sex-demons looking for meaningful relationships. But her gift for recognizing and healing the Other—those creatures of the night that most humans don’t even know exist—requires a few house rules. First: Never trust a shifter. Especially not one like Detective Colin Gyth whose gold-flecked eyes and predatory air make Emily realize how much she’s been longing to lose control…

Colin can’t believe the doctor he’s been assigned to work with on the Night Butcher murder investigation is the one person who could expose his true identity as a wolf shifter. Smart, sexy, and stubborn as hell, Emily brings out the alpha male in Colin, unleashing a wild, heady desire that takes them both over the edge.

But in the shadows, the Night Butcher waits…eager to spill Emily’s blood and taste her terror. And he’ll use any means to destroy her, including the one person she has grown to trust…

You can buy it here or here.

I’ll admit it. This week I had an A-number one case of blogging block. That insane illness that creeps up on an author when they realize that they don’t have a single idea for their blog due this week. Then I thought…why not blog about blogging? Heck, that can’t be a novel idea, right? You see, I’m a blogging cynic. How many blogs to you actually look at in one day? What draws you to them? I visit one blog a day on average. Sometimes two, and if I visit three, I must be on some kind of drugs.  No, honestly I visit Access Romance www.accessromance.com and The Bradford Bunch www.thebradfordbunch.com often, if not every day. I also drop by Tess Gerritsen’s blog, which I love. Soon I am going completely insane agreeing to yet another blog spot at Danger Zone Authors www.dangerzoneauthors.com (under construction). Danger Zone Authors debuts on May 11, so I hope you stop by and visit us. 

Is all this bloggin’ good for us? I fear that blogs will be featured in dire news reports one day that sound like this, “Scientists say that blogging causes cancer.” After all, doesn’t everything cause some form of cancer? I say this only half tongue in cheek. One day red wine was good for your heart. The next day if you are a postmenopausal woman it’ll give you an increased risk for cancer. So why not blogging? Scientists could tell you today that bloggin’, like any form of writing, is good for your brain cells and keeps them functioning…like a game of Sudoku (did I spell that right?) The next…blogging hits the dirt because all those brain cells are now dying from blog overload. :) 

What motivates me to blog, you might ask? It’s a marketing tool for me, yes. Readers might like what they read and decided they’ll give this ole author a try if they haven’t already. I know my favorite blogs connect with me on a deeper level, though, than just marketing. Blogs can be a wonderful way to communicate with others no matter what your reasons are for doing it. When you read a blog, what is most likely to draw you into wanting to come back and read more? 

That’s all for my blog today, except for revealing one truly twisted author daydream that flashed into my head as I was writing this blog. It was sort of Stephen King-ish or Dean Koontz-ish. It wouldn’t surprise me one day if reporters came on the news looking glammed up, serious expressions pinned on the camera and said, “Scientists today tell us there is a good chance that watching television news causes cancer.” 

Denise, walking away with a serious case of smarty pants. 

A hearty welcome to Megan Hart and Vivi Anna, who have joined our lovely blog. It’s great to have you here, ladies.  On to my regularly scheduled programming.

I’m cheating on this week’s blog. I’m making life easy on moi, as Miss Piggy might say by typing up a Thursday Eight. Not thirteen or fourteen or four. Eight. Why eight? Because I’ve always loved the number eight. It is my lucky number. Here are eight things you don’t know about me.

On my eighteenth birthday it was the eighth day of the eighth month of 1980. How bizarre is that?

I’m constantly amazed there are people that read my books that weren’t even born when I was eighteen on the eighth day of the eighth month of 1980.

I actually like some of the angst-filled, emotionally-charged, copious poetry at eighteen.

My favorite ice cream evvvvvaaa is chocolate mint.

Despite being forty-five, I can recall being a teenager. You couldn’t pay me enough to do it again.

My favorite holiday is Halloween.

In a fit of insanity a really long time ago, I once considered joining the Air Force. I think that idea lasted about one day.  Not that there is anything wrong with joining the Air Force. It just wouldn’t have been good for me to join.

Really is a word I really like to use too often.

I’m REALLY a great-aunt and a grandmother. Holy rusted metal Batman!

Some of my earliest genealogy research traces parts of my family back to the 1400’s in England, Scotland and Wales and France. My Irish ancestors are a bit more obscure.

Some of my ancestors were born in Picton Castle in Wales. Now I understand why I’ve always found castles fascinating.

Okay, I know I said eight things you don’t know about me, but since I’ve always hated math with a passion, I wrote eleven. Sue me. (WINK.)

Until next time, live, love and dream.

Sorry everyone! I hate missing my blog day, and I have to thank Lauren Dane for checking on me to see what was wrong. I’ll admit it. I blanked it. I thought I had written down every date on my calendar designated for me to blog, but not this one. Go figure. Anyhooo, I did have something mundane and topical to relate.

You might remember (notice I said might) my last blog dealt with slowing down and how my cell phone was way behind the times. Guess what, I lied. 

I am Borg. 

My hubby and I have new cell phones. Big deal, right? Well, here’s the rub. I have to remember to turn the thing on and leave it on and lordy, lordy people can actually reach me. Of course, I have the option of turning the sucker off. 

You should have seen the hubby and I trying to operate our brand new identical (half the size of the last) phones. Oy! First hubby discovered his voice mail wouldn’t work. Didn’t matter which way he did it, it wouldn’t work. We wondered what on earth he’d done wrong. Hmmm. We followed the instructions to the letter. 

Finally, we returned to the store, ready to give them the phones if this was all the better it would get. Turned out that the instructions they’d handed to us and everyone else isn’t correct. There’s an additional key you have to press to get the voice mail to activate. Aha! So that’s the ticket. We aren’t as technologically idiotic as we first feared. 

Of course, technology sometimes fascinates us, so I’ve run around using the camera to take some intriguing pictures to use as wallpaper on my phone. Do I plan to spend inordinate amounts of money buying ring tones? Probably not. Though I have only found one on the phone that doesn’t make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

So yes, I am Borg. Is there any technology in your life that drives you nuts?

Until next week, I remain your faithful author. :) 

Where did I get the idea for this blog today? From being a total lazy ass and sitting on the couch and watching Emma. I love the version of Emma with Gwyneth Paltrow. I’m looking forward to seeing the Kate Beckinsale version soon. I watched Emma, a woman with means to have plenty of leisure, enjoy herself painting, sewing, planning parties. I thought…ah, that looks relaxing.

Take A Load Off

Do you ever feel like your world is spinning so fast you live like a rodent on a wheel? Do you ever think you have to eat faster, read faster, drive faster, talk faster? Ever feel like if you don’t show a stressed and harried face to the world you won’t be seen as accomplished or “with it?” Are you a trend follower to the point where you’re changing on a dime?

I venture to say these feelings aren’t new for humans. A hundred years ago there were people doing whatever they could do too fast. Including keeping up with the Jones’s, wearing the “right” clothes for the job, staying on trend, following the celebrities of the day. History repeats itself without fail, yet we can choose to fall off some of the grid. We can discover that often not being stressed and harried is a matter of choice.

We Are Borg

In our world of Bluetooth, iPod, iMac, digital cameras in cell phones, and dozens of other items that make us believe everything should be done yesterday, I say let’s slow down. One of my favorite jokes is to say I’ll never be “Borg.” By that, I mean wear a Bluetooth. Simply doesn’t make sense for my lifestyle. Plus, it wouldn’t fit in my ears (small ear canals). Problem solved.

I never thought about slowing down until I realized I wasn’t…well…slowing down. When I was a kid there were no personal computers, no cell phones (not even car phones), no iPods or iMacs or answering machines. Nope. It’s not that people couldn’t fill up their days with activities or run themselves ragged overworking. They often did. When I was a child, though, reading a book was my A-number one favorite pastime. Not even a good episode of Lassie or Bullwinkle and Squirrel could tug me away from favorite books. Now a good spooky movie might do it. Ahem.

I read but it takes an act of congress for me to sit for more than one hour and do nothing but read, read, read. I suffer from the pull of things I “should” do. Even some of the “shoulds” threaten to derail my writing time. Which, if you think about it, is patently absurd. After all, writing is my career. My job. Yet laundry will scream my name far too often, or volunteering for this or that will interfere. Even in my twenties I found I could lie down on my couch without music or TV blaring and read and read and read. What in the name of gumption happened?

Stop and Live In The Now

Many of us think “stop and smell the roses” means giving into laziness. Stress is a banner of accomplishment worn on some go-getter’s sleeves with great pride. Feeling overworked, underpaid, and underappreciated is somehow looked upon as “in.” If my list isn’t longer than yours, well by golly I must be doing something wrong. If I’m not promoting my books in eighty-five different places on the Internet, surely I’m doing something incorrect. Don’t get me wrong…if you do have eighty-five different places you are promoting your books and it isn’t stressing you or taking you away from your main job of writing the books, then by all means keep promoting in eighty-five different places. Everyone has their own comfortable pace. That’s the kicker, though. Do you know what your comfortable pace is? Or have you abandoned it in favor of what someone said your pace should be?

Dumpin’ The Monkey Mind

Eric Maisel, Author and Creativity Coach, suggests that if authors want to access the guts of what makes them an author, they have to chill the “monkey mind.” And ya know, I think he’s right. If you can’t access a depth of emotion other than feeling like a rat running a maze, your work will show it. I have major monkey mind, and I know that when I force myself to stop and smell the roses, boy do I feel better and boy does my writing benefit. Not only have I written a piece that is more emotionally connecting for the reader, but my mind is free to use the rich imagination I possess.

Take some time…yeah, that’s it. Put down the cell phone…step away from the cell phone ma’am. There. Now, take a deep breath. Sit in one place. Forget the laundry and dishes. Ah. Pick up a book and read. Walk in the garden and smell the roses. Sit on the porch and do absolutely nothing. There. Doesn’t that feel better?

Now, because you’ve stopped and smelled the roses, comment here and one lucky winner will receive a paperback copy of my least harried, least eccentric novel MEANT TO BE.

Hey everyone, today I have another guest blogger, Carolan Ivey. Although Carolan and I have both been in publishing for quite a while, we didn’t get to meet in person until last year. Not only is she a cool lady, her books are to die for! Step inside Carolan’s mind for a few moments. Take it away Carolan.

**

First of all, I’d like to thank Denise Agnew for inviting me to guest blog today. It’s an honor and a pleasure!

Second, can I just say there’s something deliciously wrong about the juxtaposition of the Brady-Bunch-ish flower motif, and the smokin’ hot covers below? It’s a little twisted. I like it.

So anyway, speaking of twisted…

I’m one of these writers who is either all in, or all out. There’s no half-way with me. I wish I could be the one who is so self-disciplined I can “turn it on” and write for, say 4 to 6 hours, then turn it “off”, switch gears and be back in the world again.

Maybe this is why I’m not as prolific as some of my friends. Because I know once I go to that place, once I’m “under”, there’s a whole lot else in my life that’s going to fall by the wayside. And, as a wife, mother, and participant in this thing called life, there’s never a convenient time to allow myself to do that.

I’ve heard it said that there’s nothing to writing, really—just sit down and open a vein. That’s particularly true of me. A little bit of me goes into every story I write. Even if the characters, the setting, the time period have no connection to my mundane life, there’s something going on that I’m working out through my writing. I rarely see it until the finished product is in print and in my hands.

It’s that shadow self that we all have, that so few of us are comfortable with. The part that we’d rather not acknowledge exists, let alone expose for all the world to gawk at.

The one that makes our families cock their heads at us and murmur, “But you were always so sweet and quiet as a child…”

But as writers, if we don’t learn to tap into the shadow self—or at least trust your process enough to allow your subconscious to connect to it—the work is missing something vital. Even if we write light, romantic comedy, there’s got to be some kind of contrast, however subtle, that makes the lightness stand out. Otherwise it’s empty fluff.

Now, I’m all for fluff. After all, we’re romance writers, we’re not producing the Magna Carta, here. But even a big, pink wad of cotton candy has a little bit of salt in it. Otherwise it’s all sweet, no savor. Does that make sense?

I’ve come to believe that as a writer, if I’m not willing to go to that dark place, to be willing to look my friends and family in the eye, lift my chin and own what’s come out of the back of my brain, then you know what? I need to find another line of work.

And yes, I’m working something out by writing this piece, right before your eyes.

Thanks again, Bradford Bunch, for providing the space that allowed me to do it!

Cheers,
Carolan

—–
Carolan Ivey writes paranormal and Celtic-flavored fantasy romance for Samhain Publishing Ltd. Find out about her latest releases at www.carolanivey.com.

Hello all! Today I’m introducing Monica Burns as my guest blogger. I’ve known Monica a very short time, but the minute I read her novel MIRAGE, I had to contact her and let her know how much I enjoyed it. I’m a sucker for Egypt, archaeology, and erotic romance, and MIRAGE is a fascinating historical romance laced with wonderful characters, sizzling love and great story. Let me tell you, when I picked up that book, I didn’t want to put it down. Sounds like Monica has a great topic for us today. Enjoy!

** 

Romance, Aging and Torture by Monica Burns 

Now that I have your attention! LOL I’ve been reading since the ripe old age of four, but my life-long love affair with romance began at 12 with my first Harlequin. Although I’ve had spurts where I didn’t read for several months at a time, I always found my way home, so to speak. 

Romance Matures aka as Romance On Sex

 The one thing I’ve observed over the years is that romance has changed to keep up with women and how we view our sexuality. In the 70s, books from Woodiwiss, Rogers and others introduced sex into the equation, albeit often in the form or rape. The act wasn’t viewed in the same way then. Woodiwiss, Rogers and others were of the bra burning generation. Sexuality and women being permitted to even enjoy sex was a new concept. It had to hurt first before it became pleasurable. In the 80s and into the 90s, the sex evolved from purple prose to language that was earthier in tone. Then erotic romance took full bloom and we had the introduction of hot sex, but with it came sex that was much edgier. It bordered on the profane for some, the illicitly wicked for others. 

Give Me That Sexual Fantasy 

I’ve come to appreciate the sexual fantasies other writers create in their romantic fiction. In fact, I’ve even tried to explore some of those fantasies in my own writing. What I find fascinating about edgier romance is that as readers and writers we can explore things we might not actually participate in or enjoy in our real world existence. Fantasies like wife swapping, bondage, spanking, ménage and other verboten sexual fantasies might not be our cup of tea in reality, but reading about these topics can serve to spice up our own personal sexual experiences. They can also be read in a safe environment and if something makes one uncomfortable it’s easy to put it aside. That’s the whole point of fantasy, and it’s highly recommended by every sex therapist I’ve ever listened too, not to mention my own counselors over the past 30 years. 

Dark, Romantic Sex 

Now ever reader has their own version of their favorite fantasy. I imagine my fantasies are pretty humdrum compared to some, except I’m beginning to enjoy writing sex that is dark and romantic. By dark I mean a tortured hero who makes love to the heroine in a way that is his attempt to convince the heroine that she couldn’t possibly loved someone as depraved as he is. Lucien, the hero of my new release, Dangerous, does just that with my heroine, Constance. He even goes so far as to prove its just sex, only he loses the battle and the girl (just for the moment). Of course, the reader knows the depravity is all in the hero’s own mind, because like the heroine, the reader sees the goodness in the hero, and that the heroine will redeem him. Ok so that sounds a little kitschy, but its not. 

Love or Lust — It’s About Denial 

Think about characters like Rhett Butler and Rochester from Jane Eyre, both of these men are tortured in some dark way (although Rhett’s darkness is a little less obvious). Now imagine what the sex would have been like with one or both of these guys. *evil grin* Remember Rhett carrying Scarlett up the stairs? I’m betting Scarlett got it hot and raw that night. Then Rochester, he would have known what he was doing was wrong, and in the end he would have made Jane be as naughty thereby making it impossible for her to remain with him. But because she loved him, being naughty would have been sinfully hot and awesome. 

I love heroes that can make me believe their actions are wicked simply because they’re trying to distance themselves from the heroine. The reality is, they’re binding themselves all that much tighter to the heroine. With every caress, kiss and plunging stroke they tell the heroine they’re in love, all the while they deny what’s happening. Frankly, my dears…I love it. 

So name a tortured hero you’ve fallen in love with and tell me how you think the sex would be with that delicious man.

P.S. And if you happen to think about it, check out my new paranormal release Dangerous, now available. For an excerpt, visit me at http://www.monicaburns.com/BookshelfDangerous.htm