Jun 302014
 
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One of the questions beginning writers ask us most often is: “How do you know if you have captured the love in your characters’ lovemaking, and aren’t just writing a run-of-the-mill sex scene?” To answer that question, twelve writers offer their own thoughts and advice in this unique WriteSex Author’s Roundtable. Each Monday a well-known romance author will discuss the difference between a sex scene and a love scene, and show us how to charge an erotic encounter with romance. Look for personal insights and how-to tips from our participants in this first ever WriteSex Authors’ Roundtable. —Ed.

***

By MJ Flournoy

Back in the day, certain genres were geared exclusively to the male reader. The language was coarse, graphic and to the point—no flowery language, no building of sexual tension. That old adage, slam bam, thank you ma’am, pretty much summed it up.

Today, readers expect more, demand more and, of course, receive more. While early examples of male-oriented porn insisted on “just the facts, ma’am”, modern readers expect the genre to deliver the same erotic punch, but with heightened sexual tension. The genre has moved from behind the counter and under young men’s mattresses into the cultural mainstream as writers have increasingly described sex with excitement, passion and titillation—all while pulling the reader right into the action.

I much prefer to write love scenes than sex scenes. Does that mean the characters must be in love to engage in sexual activity? Not at all. It means the writing must engage the reader by considering all the senses, rather than limiting the scene to physical actions. Our readers have become connoisseurs of fine erotic literature. They want to feel the sexual tension, to enjoy the sensual tease of anticipation, to explore with the characters the pleasure of the sexual experience.

In my writing I seek to deliver the passion, tension and pleasure of an erotic encounter that will pull you into the emotional, sensual, tactile arousal of the characters—you should enjoy the experience along with them. The emotions and feelings of the fictional people in whom you’ve invested your time deliver as much or more erotic stimulation than graphic language in itself. The reader, when pulled into the scene with deep characterization, feels, experiences, and enjoys the masterful touch of a skilled lover.

Words are my tools and my palette to make these scenes come alive for readers. Describing sexual acts—especially the one known by most people as the sex act—in coarse graphic detail is easy, using words to evoke an erotic image in the reader’s mind isn’t. Graphic language detracts from the mood of the scene. Throwing the f-bomb around doesn’t measure up as erotic to me. I prefer to use more descriptive language that appeals to the senses and stirs up a vicarious emotional and physical experience. I want my readers to feel the romance inherent to the sex, not just witness it from a detached remove. After all, the characters aren’t just “going through the motions”—and neither should the reader.

A Matter of Trust

In this scene from my novel A Matter of Trust, we find Jolie suffering from shock after experiencing a vision foretelling her own death. She touches Mac seeking reassurance from his physical form. It is in reaching out and connecting with him that she pushes the darkness away and restores the equilibrium to her world. Their joining is an affirmation of life and living.

Excerpt: A Matter of Trust

“It’s over, the danger’s gone.” Mac continued to stroke her back holding her, cradling her against his chest.

“The house exploded, we were…”

Mac’s arms tightened around her. “It didn’t happen, won’t happen.”

Jolie shivered, shock stealing into her system. In her mind she saw again the carnage from the explosion.

“There, those windows.” Her gaze fixed on the wall of glass that framed a breathtaking view of the lake.

“Hush, we’re safe.” Mac’s lips brushed her cheek offering comfort. “Your warning prevented what could have happened.”

Clinging to Mac, Jolie focused on him, his strength, his energy, his unique maleness that caused her body to hum with feminine longings. She luxuriated in the explicit sexiness that was Mac. With him filling all her senses, there was no room for terror, for fear. Only Mac.

Need built within her. Her body throbbed with awareness at his touch. His hands traced over her. Deep cravings awakened. She snuggled closer to him. The spicy scent of his cologne and unique male essence filled her senses causing the chill slowly to subside. He lowered his lips to hers and the flames that licked at her had nothing to do with fire and everything to do with passion.

“You’re safe.”

He lifted his head, lips slowly gliding across her cheek to find the tender flesh of her neck just below her ear. His teeth found the soft flesh of her ear lobe and a soft moan escaped her throat. She tilted her head, granting him easier access. Her arms circled his neck, pulling him closer.

“God yes. Make me feel alive.”

Mac’s answer was a low growl deep in his throat.

His hands landed on her butt, and pressed her against the hard ridge of his erection. Jolie rubbed herself against him, filled with the power of her own femininity. He throbbed growing harder with each movement.

His hands slid up her back, found the tail of her shirt and slipped beneath to caress away the coldness that had invaded her body. Liquid fire replaced her chills burned a path from her shoulder blades to her ribs. Slowly, his fingers crept up until they found the mounds of her breasts.

“You’re sure?”

“I need you, now.”

This moment had been inevitable since the first time he’d touched her, running his hands over her body searching for the non-existent wire, Jolie thought, while he stripped the shorts from her body leaving her vulnerable. His lips followed the path of his hands down her body. She could no longer resist this attraction to him that left her feeling off-balance and needy and now that need had grown much too strong to deny any longer.

He held her, pressing her back against the cool plaster of the wall as one leg insinuated itself between her thighs. His fingers teased her nipples as his lips plundered her mouth. Jolie found herself riding his thigh, her hips rocking against him as tension built within her. With unerring precision, she reached lower; her hands found the fastening of his jeans, unbuttoned then unzipped them. Her fingers sought the shaft that pressed insistently against her. He shifted his body slightly to grant her better access. Her fingers closed around his engorged flesh and he groaned deep in his throat, pressing deeper into her hand. Need filled her. She wanted him, wanted to feel him inside her, feel the power of his body while he fed the hunger that threatened to consume her.

From one pocket Mac produced a small foil pack. He pressed it into her hand. A challenge issued, blatant need, like electricity, spiraled from his fingertips to hers when he deposited the small trophy within her grasp. Her hand trembling she accepted his offering, unwrapped it and quickly sheathed his length with it.

“Put your legs around my waist.” He lifted her.

Jolie followed his instruct and was rewarded with the pressure of his fullness against the heated mound at the juncture of her thighs. He pulled her shirt up and over her head and pressed her back against the smooth cool surface of the wall. His hot, moist lips claimed her nipples, one after the other through the thin material of her bra. Then even that meager barrier was gone.

One hand moved down to tease her intimately and Jolie arched her back, tightening her legs around him, urging him closer. He found the throbbing center of her desire and pressed home with one swift, sure stroke. He filled her completely, stretching her, electrifying nerves that had never felt so alive. He braced her against the wall, his mouth plundering hers, even as he plunged to the depths of her. Tension built within her, she felt herself spiraling out of control, sailing away into the stratosphere, past the rings of Saturn and on into the void of space beyond. In her mind’s eye she shot across the midnight sky like a rocket before she shattered into a million pieces, her pleasure raining across the heavens spewing behind her like the tail of a comet.

Mac followed her into the stratosphere, urging her on, demanding more, seeking more, giving more. She felt the intensity of his climax, the coiled strength of his whipcord muscles beneath her hands, the straining of his body when he reached ultimate release. The pleasure built to the point where it was too much to bear . Quickly she followed him toward a powerful climax that left her trembling and depleted. She whispered his name and collapsed against his chest.

In the darkness Mac lowered her to the floor and Jolie found her legs would not support her.  He followed her down, his body cradling hers when they lay on the smooth hardwood.

 

 

MJ Flournoy lives in Georgia, USA. MJ writes romantic suspense with paranormal elements. MJ’s motto is “If it is to be, it’s up to me.” When not writing, MJ enjoys traveling, reading and doing any type of research. Connect with her via her website, Facebook page and tweets.

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Jun 232014
 
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One of the questions beginning writers ask us most often is: “How do you know if you have captured the love in your characters’ lovemaking, and aren’t just writing a run-of-the-mill sex scene?” To answer that question, twelve writers offer their own thoughts and advice in this unique WriteSex Author’s Roundtable. Each Monday a well-known romance author will discuss the difference between a sex scene and a love scene, and show us how to charge an erotic encounter with romance. Look for personal insights and how-to tips from our participants in this first ever WriteSex Authors’ Roundtable. —Ed.

***

By Sabrina Luna

Hi!  I’m Sabrina Luna and I’m an author of paranormal and erotic romance stories.  Yes, I personally see a big difference between a written sex scene and a romantic sexual encounter. Over the years, I’ve written both.

When I started writing in the late 1990s, I was a member of an online group which focused on ‘erotica’. Basically, erotica consists of a scene or short story which focuses only on the sexual relationship between the characters. There is very little building of a romantic relationship and the primary goal of the story is to stimulate the reader’s libido.

Then, around the year 2000, erotic romance hit the book market. Romance stories which allowed the readers to enjoy what was happening to the characters in the bedroom became popular and, since then, there’s been no turning back. Nowadays, readers can find any level of sexual heat in erotic romance stories. However, in my honest opinion, well-written erotic romance stories show a growth in the characters’ relationships as well exploring their sexual chemistry together.

The last piece of short erotica I wrote had a sexually adventurous couple who were more ‘buddies’ than romantic partners. It was a fun story to write—but, as the author, I found myself hoping they’d get together in the near future.

What can I say? I guess I’m an erotic romantic at heart. The last few erotic romances I’ve written have focused on building the relationship between the characters and using their sexual encounters to spark and cultivate their feelings for one another throughout the story. And, at the end of the story, there is a commitment in their relationship. The couple can either live happily ever after—or my personal favorite kind of ending, happy for now.

So, to me, there is a big difference between a written sex scene and a romantic sexual encounter. And, although I enjoy writing and reading both kinds of stories, I prefer an erotic romance with both a good relationship *and* sexual chemistry.

***

Sabrina Luna is an author of paranormal & erotic romances and, recently, became an indie ebook author, too. She enjoys haunting bookstores and coffee shops, listening to classic rock, and attending movies and munchies with her fellow geek-peeps.

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Jun 202014
 
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By Colin

A number of years ago, when I was just starting to seriously write fiction, I showed a new story to my girlfriend of the time.  She read it as carefully as she read all my work, and afterwards said, “I didn’t like the main character.”

At the time, her response surprised me—and not because I disagreed with her. The protagonist was, basically, kind of a whiny, selfish perpetual adolescent, using his desire for a lover to mask all those tiresome elements of his personality. That was actually the point of the story, and at that phase in my development as a writer I thought it justified making my leading man into a twerp.

The reason I was surprised by my girlfriend’s critique was that it was basically an emotional response to one character. Normally she focused on internal logic or the strength/weakness of my writing itself—in other words, things that could be critiqued rationally,  described objectively and fixed. How could I address a reader’s subjective, gut-level response?

Years later, the answer has come through to me: I dunno, but you’d damn well better try.

If you read through reader reviews of erotica—not those by professional critics, but the kind of emotionally engaged feedback that readers post on Amazon and Goodreads when they’ve just finished the story and absolutely must let the world know what they love or hate about it—you’ll see the question of likability comes up quite a bit, especially when the reader’s response is negative. And I don’t just mean they’ve panned the characters and judged the rest of the story on its various merits, but that the whole story has fallen flat for them because they didn’t like the characters. It’s phrased in different ways: I couldn’t relate to Rosalyn; I couldn’t stand Derek; I didn’t really have any strong feelings about Mitzi; I didn’t connect with the cougar shifter; I didn’t exactly hate Razglord, but I just didn’t like him

It’s true that—at first glance, certainly—a great many famous characters in fiction aren’t “likable” as such. Sherlock Holmes, for instance, isn’t terribly likable; he’s fascinating, certainly—who among us wouldn’t love to sit down and have a real conversation with a mind like that? But he doesn’t inspire much in the way of warm fuzzies.

On the other hand, Dr. Watson is quite thoroughly likeable. He’s warm, loyal, relatable, and generally seems like a great guy to go out and have a drink with. He’s an excellent counterpoint to Holmes’ slightly chilly charisma; it may be that the balance of, and tension between, their personalities is the reason so many people love the Holmes stories.

Love—as I’ve said in at least one other column—is a key word here. People have an emotional response to stories and characters in stories, just as they do to real people. Give them a character that evokes a strong positive response, and they’ll likely love that person, whether it’s Dr. Watson or Sam Gamgee or Harry Potter or whoever. They’ll read and re-read the books, recommend them to friends, start blogs about them and write their own fan fiction about the characters. This seems particularly important in erotica and romance, where so much of the stories’ subject matter is about pleasure.

The story I gave to my old girlfriend all those years ago had nothing in the way of a likable character. Now sure, not all stories have to evoke warm fuzzies in their readers. Some very worthwhile stories are basically dark, and some important characters are basically bastards. But my character didn’t have much in the way of redeeming characteristics—be they heroic, interestingly villainous or relatably human. He wasn’t even rotten to the core, he was basically just a sophomoric jerk. If you met him in real life, you wouldn’t even hate him, you’d just think, “Poor screwed-up kid,” and do your best to avoid him in social situations.

Compare that kind of character to the narrator of Dostoyevsky’s Notes from Underground, who’s very similar in a way: immature, socially awkward, not terribly pleasant to be around. The difference is that Dostoyevsky’s guy has a certain self-awareness; he knows he’s a twerp, and part of the point of the story is that we come to feel something for him, and understand that we ourselves might not be utter paragons. Or look at Wuthering Heights—sure, it’s impossible to imagine that book without Heathcliff, but without Catherine it’s even worse: just a book about a sadistic schmuck out on a farm somewhere.

Sympathetic characters speak to readers even when they’re not terribly likeable people. When a natural likability comes through in a character, readers respond even more powerfully; it can provide an all-important balance between characters, and make the difference between a flavorless, tiresome story and one readers will take to their hearts and cherish forever.

 

Colin is a fetish writer and the single most prolific professional author of tickling erotica working today, with dozens of books to his credit. www.gigglegasm.com and www.ticklingforum.com.

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Jun 172014
 
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One of the questions beginning writers ask us most often is: “How do you know if you have captured the love in your characters’ lovemaking, and aren’t just writing a run-of-the-mill sex scene?” To answer that question, twelve writers offer their own thoughts and advice in this unique WriteSex Author’s Roundtable. Each week a well-known romance author will discuss the difference between a sex scene and a love scene, and show us how to charge an erotic encounter with romance. Look for personal insights and how-to tips from our participants in this first ever WriteSex Authors’ Roundtable. —Ed.

***

By Emma Paul

Today’s erotic novel has changed greatly from the old days of porn and sex-driven plots. What was once a “male”-dominated genre has evolved to encompass the romantic element of popular literature, and has brought this taboo writing to store shelves and women’s bedside tables.

It was only after the mid-eighties that former adult star Candida Royalle created her first adult movie aimed at women, titled Femme. The film centered on the woman’s pleasure through explicit sex scenes that did not include shots of external ejaculation.  Thanks to Ms. Royalle, the porn industry opened its doors to a whole new genre to target a female audience. I believe this helped women explore—and see themselves as central to—their sexuality and bring a more romantic flavor to pornographic media.

Pornographic literature has been around since Roman times and although I have done little research past that era, I’m sure there are cave drawings somewhere of our earliest modern human ancestors getting it on.

As an author of erotic romance, I feel that the appeal of a good erotic story lies in the relationship between the main characters, and its emotional effect on the reader. Sex is a very important part of erotica—and when that sex is portrayed as romantic, I believe it only emphasizes the scene’s excitement. It means a lot to me to be able to connect sex with love—or in the case of erotic romance, love with sex. In my books, one cannot occur without the other. Love and romance are pivotal parts of my writing and, to me, they’re the most important forces driving the plot to the end.

To understand what this means, it’s necessary to understand the difference between a sex scene and an erotic romance scene. What is the difference? A sex scene in and of itself gives little attention given to the emotional connection between the characters. Although I have written such scenes into my novels, I still believe that they need to fit into the context of the story. When I hold back on describing their emotional connection during a sex scene, I ensure that the main characters will express their love for each other far more effectively during subsequent encounters.

Romantic erotic scenes are more geared toward progressing the relationship between the main characters. The focus should be placed on the emotional bond between the lovers, and on sex as an instrument that strengthens that bond. Every sex scene in an Erotic Romance should move the story forward. At the same time, it should be sexy, titillating and hopefully make the readers tingle. After all, reading Erotica and Erotic Romance is all about getting in the mood.

***

Emma Paul is the alter ego of a happily married, middle-aged woman. She has been writing short stories all her life and loves bringing her wild imagination to others. She writes Romance, Erotic Romance, Paranormal & Fantasy Erotic Romance, and is the author of Kaden’s Breeder, Corbin’s Captive, Soulmate’s Touch and Prisoner of Darkhavenwith more books coming soon!

 

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Jun 132014
 
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By Jean Roberta

I write in several genres, including blog posts and reviews. I also teach first-year university students to write academic essays, which is a particular, ancient art form related to the art of debate. (When universities were first established in Europe in the 1200s, “logic” and “rhetoric” were high on the list of subject matter that scholars were expected to learn.)

I’ve learned a lot from my students. I like to think I can recognize problems in my own writing more readily because I’ve seen the same groaners in student essays. Most of the mistakes I’ve circled and commented on can be summed up as a general lack of coherence. Some students even contradict themselves within a paragraph, apparently without noticing it.

To be articulate, whether in speech or in writing, literally means to connect the dots, to show connections between a premise and the evidence that supports it, between events and their aftermath in a narrative, or between analogies. (For instance: Putin’s recent annexation of part of Ukraine for Russia is parallel to Hitler’s annexation of surrounding territory for Germany in the 1930s – or not. Discuss.) An articulate approach to anything requires work.

Some literary critic once said that bad writing consists of missed opportunities. This sounds similar to incoherence, or a failure to articulate. A good plot premise doesn’t necessarily lead to a good story, because the writer might miss a chance to show where the central character’s value system or motives are likely to lead, or to connect different themes or viewpoints within the story.

Part of the reason why “pornography” has traditionally been considered bad writing is because it leaves out so much of reality. A loosely-plotted story that consists of one sex scene after another might make a great fantasy, and it might inspire a great wank-session, but it doesn’t resemble anyone’s actual life. Even full-time sex workers have things to do that aren’t the least bit sexy – and selling sex to strangers is not the best way to have an endless series of peak experiences.

The challenge of writing about sex, even if it takes place on Planet X or involves supernatural beings, is to integrate the physical activities with the emotions involved, with the cultural context, and with the circumstances that lead to sex. Behind every set of double-D-sized breasts is a human heart. To describe the breasts as part of a tempting body, without acknowledging that every human body of every size and shape includes a complex human psyche, is to be an amateur cartoonist. The anti-porn feminists of the 1970s had some reasonable things to say about this type of writing. Unfortunately, much of what they said has been forgotten or drowned out by conflicts over censorship, which has continued in various forms to this day (Amazon.com, for example, needs to be watched).

When reading over a rough draft of a story, I ask myself: do all these characters belong in the same imaginary world? Even if the plot twists aren’t predictable (a good thing), are they believable (another good thing)? Have everyone’s feelings been clearly represented? What am I leaving out?

Setting a manuscript aside for at least 24 hours, then looking it over with these questions in mind, can lead to useful insights.

If not everything fits together, you might actually have two stories disguised as one. In that case, you can thank your Muse for being so fruitful, and start rearranging.

————————

Jean Roberta writes in several genres. Approximately 100 of her erotic stories, including every orientation she can think of, have appeared in print anthologies. She also has three single-author collections, including The Princess and the Outlaw: Tales of the Torrid Past (Lethe Press, 2013). www.jean-roberta.livejournal.com

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Jun 092014
 
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One of the questions beginning writers ask us most often is: “How do you know if you have captured the love in your characters’ lovemaking, and aren’t just writing a run-of-the-mill sex scene?” To answer that question, twelve writers offer their own thoughts and advice in this unique WriteSex Author’s Roundtable. Each Monday a well-known romance author will discuss the difference between a sex scene and a love scene, and show us how to charge an erotic encounter with romance. Look for personal insights and how-to tips from our participants in this first ever WriteSex Authors’ Roundtable. —Ed.

***

By Mary Marvella

I remember several years ago I met an older man who thought he was writing romance or erotic romance. He said he needed an editor, so I agreed to edit his books. Contrary to his idea of them, his stories were all about sex with no romance involved. He had all the sex acts of porn and none of the finesse of erotica or erotic romance. Not once did his writing make me want to be part of his sex scenes. I tried to help him and finally found someone who could tell him where he might get his books published, if anywhere—and even they suggested his books were similar to the ones sold for men in truck stops. Today, if the dear man still lived, his stories might be self-published, or he’d need to let me just rewrite his books for a fee.

A sex scene is about bodies commingling in various ways—part A goes into slot B; there’s some licking, some sucking and a lot of coming—but isn’t required to include meetings of minds or points of view, let alone emotions. As such, the idea of a standalone sex scene bores me to tears; so far I haven’t let a sexual encounter continue in any of my books without also describing the emotional connection or need that motivates it.

In my book about a 40-year-old who lost her virginity in a one-night stand, I thought I had done it—I thought I’d written a sex scene between two strangers who met, briefly rocked each other’s worlds, and then parted ways, never to see each other again. But I thought wrong. The “stranger” character was hurting, but I didn’t know it at the time. I had intended for him simply to make the heroine feel beautiful and have a sexual experience to remember, as a new chapter of her formerly-repressed life. The man I had chosen to give this woman a baby—yes, I did, and she was grateful, too—turned out to be a man in pain and a responsible man. The next time they had sex, there was love neither could admit.

When I write a sex or love scene, I make sure my characters want each other and need that connection to the point of emotional pain. They move from old-fashioned kissing and petting to doing what comes naturally. My readers must also want the characters to finally consummate their passion with vividly described, rather than just implied, sex—I’m no more inclined to write a “sweet” romance any more than I am to write straight-up porn. I don’t have my heroes “take” the heroines and “make them theirs”, especially if the men don’t love the women. I never let my characters actually consummate the sex scene the first time they think they will, and they tend to think of that sex as lovemaking by the time they finally “go all the way”. My guys worship the heroines’ bodies. They don’t use the old trite terms. Their encounters are not just about being horny and gettin’ some ass. They are drawn to their sex partners for more than tits and long legs to wrap around the men’s hips and scream with…

Protective Instincts was the first book I wrote and edited and rewrote to give it stronger romantic suspense. I also added as much emotion as I could each time I worked on any scene where the two main characters were together.

They are considerate of each other. Since they have fears and self-doubts, they are vulnerable. Brit, the heroine, has been attacked twice by a man who planned to rape and kill her. Several women who had worked with rape victims warned me Brit would have issues and not likely have sex with Sam early in the book. That led me to remove two early sex scenes.

Sam wants Brit, but he doesn’t want to frighten her. Her fear that she can’t let a man dominate her from the “man on top” position leads to a sex scene where she must take control and he must allow her to do that:

Excerpt:

With a moan, he moved both hands to her bottom, pressing her against him. She wanted to feel his touch all over her body. She wanted all he could offer – now!

She trembled in his arms.

“Brit,” he whispered. “Scared?”

She brushed her cheek against his chest, kissed his throat. “No,” she said against his skin, “not as long as you hold me.” She unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, branded his chest with kisses, then his neck, then his chin.

“Make love to me, Sam.”

“Not so fast, Teach.” Sam touched his lips to her forehead. “Take it easy, love.”

“But I need you. I need for you to make love to me.”

“We have all night.”

Brit shivered again. “But what if I can’t? If I wait too long I might lose my nerve. What if I can’t, what if I panic?” What if I disappoint him?

“We’ll take things slow and easy. If you need to stop, we’ll stop,” Sam’s voice rasped. “So, sweetheart, take charge. Make love to me. Take me, take me now!” He flung his arms wide and grinned. “I’m all yours.”

Brit chuckled against his chest. “You got it, bud, I’ll take you to heights you’ve never been before.”

She kissed his throat again, unbuttoned another button.

Tunneling his hands through her silky hair, he tilted her face up. Lowering his head, he kissed her slowly, gently, thoroughly.

Brit needed this man. Sam was so different from Tommy. Was she disloyal to want this man so much? Surely not! She needed to feel alive and clean. She needed to enjoy a normal sexual experience with someone who cared. She needed to know she could stop whenever she wanted to.

Kissing Sam made her feel cherished. He made her feel he needed her as much as she needed him. He was handsome, manly, sexy as all get out, gentle, in control, and caring. If Sam can’t help me through this, no man can. I can do this. I can. I must.

Sliding her hands inside Sam’s shirt, Brit absorbed the rough texture of springy chest hair between her fingers, against her palms. She gasped into his mouth when he picked her up and moved to a couch. Without breaking the kiss, Sam seated them, with her in his lap.

Kissing Sam, nipping at his lips, Brit tried to stoke his passion. She wanted him to make love to her but he held back. Why was he waiting? If he would just make love to her, she would know she wasn’t scarred for life.

Changing positions, she became more aggressive. She straddled his legs and faced him. “Too many clothes,” she yanked his shirt from his jeans. Gliding her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, she exposed his sculpted torso.

Gripping the bottom of her blouse, she yanked it over her head. Heat and moisture spread through her loins. Sam’s emerald eyes glittered. She knew she was tempting him. His heat burned through their clothes.

Emboldened, she slowly unclasped the front catch of her lacy bra, freeing her breasts to press against him.

“Come to the bed, lie with me. We need to slow down.”

“Why? I need you now.” Snaking her arms around his neck she pressed her breasts against him.

“Hang on.” He rose with her. “Lock your legs around me.”

She knew making his way to the bedroom wasn’t easy while she kissed his face and rubbed against him.

When Sam reached the large bed, Brit leaned over to grab the satiny coverlet and toss it back. He toppled them onto the bed.

He lay on his side facing her. He kept his touch gentle. Her pebbled nipples begged for more than his touch. Dipping his head, he stroked his tongue over a nipple, then its mate.

She clutched Sam’s shoulders. Tension built to an unbearable peak. When Sam’s hand moved between her thighs, touching her through her jeans, she felt heat spiral inside. Her world flashed, went dark. She floated and she wanted him with her. He pushed her over the edge.

Sam hadn’t taken his pleasure. If she could just rest for a few minutes, she would show him real earth-shaking pleasure.

***

Mary Marvella has been a storyteller for as long as she can remember. She made up stories for the other children and created the details for their “let’s pretend” games. Sometimes the details were so real they scared the other children away; sometimes she even scared herself. The arrival of the book mobile was as exciting as hearing the music of the ice cream truck. It was more exciting, since she could check out books but seldom had the money for the ice cream.

Mary was born in Augusta, Georgia to two eighteen-year-olds. Her daddy, a young Mississippi man, was stationed at Camp Gordon and fell in love with a young girl selling flowers. The story of this particular romance is told further in Mary’s blogs.

When Mary’s daughter was small, story time often meant Mama made up stories. Now retired from teaching the classic works of the masters, Mary writes her own stories and reads modern novels. Sometimes she writes books with steamy sex and danger.

Georgia raised, she writes stories with a Southern flair.

Get to know Mary and her work at the blogs linked above, and at her Amazon author page, website, and Facebook page.

 

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Jun 052014
 
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By Nobilis

There are a lot of things authors have to write that aren’t stories—and because they’re not stories, we often we have a hard time with them. If we are seeking publication with a publishing house, we have to write summaries and query letters. If we’re self-published, or writing for a small publisher without much of a marketing department, we often have to write cover copy ourselves, as well as bios. For some of us, even coming up with a title can be a trial. And, uh…some of us also write blog posts.

This is kind of weird when you come right down to it. I mean, we’re writers, right? Writing ought to be easy across the board, right? But for many of us, it’s not. Writing fiction feels different than writing all these other things. Fiction is fun, fiction allows us to live in that special place inside our heads for a while, the place where miracles are an everyday occurrence. Writing marketing material, however, is firmly grounded in the realities of the commercial world and our attempts to carve ourselves a place in it. We’re not writing from the inside, we’re writing from the outside. We’re focusing first on how the reader—now cast in the role of potential customer—will interpret the words we put down, and how those interpretations are going to affect our careers. There are real consequences.

It’s intimidating.

But keep in mind, we learned to write fiction. We can learn to write this other stuff well, too. With experience comes skill, with skill comes confidence, and with confidence comes accomplishment. We just have to DO it, remembering the three laws of getting sh*t done as writers:

1. Write.

2. Finish what you write.

3. Submit what you finish.

It’s that simple.

What? I haven’t hit my wordcount yet? Okay, alright…

Step one is write. That means put words together. Don’t worry about using the right words, don’t worry about style or spelling or anything else. Just write purposefully in pursuit of your goal. Don’t worry about whether it’s good, just write. This even applies if you’re trying to figure out a title; write one title after another, even the stupid ones, until you’re all titled out.

Step two is finish. That means not only writing through to the end, but also revising, polishing, and editing, almost always with at least three other good pairs of eyes looking at your work. It’s not finished until you’ve polished it—unless you’re Roger Zelazny, and you’re not.

Step three is submit. Chances are, if you’re writing something like this, it’s because you need to, so this step is pretty straightforward.

Okay, how are we looking for wordcount? Good? Alright, then we’re done here. Go write.

—–

Learn more about Nobilis and his work at his…

Website: www.nobiliserotica.com
Podcast: nobilis.libsyn.com
Twitter: @nobilis

 

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Jun 022014
 
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One of the questions beginning writers ask us most often is: “How do you know if you have captured the love in your characters’ lovemaking, and aren’t just writing a run-of-the-mill sex scene?” To answer that question, twelve writers offer their own thoughts and advice in this unique WriteSex Author’s Roundtable. Each Monday a well-known romance author will discuss the difference between a sex scene and a love scene, and show us how to charge an erotic encounter with romance. Look for personal insights and how-to tips from our participants in this first ever WriteSex Authors’ Roundtable. —Ed.

***

By Sally Swanson

In the not-so-distant past, erotic stories favored male readers and relegated women to the role of Object of Desire, rather than characterizing them as sentient and sensual beings. The comparatively new genre of erotic romance, however, empowers women to be in control of their bodies, their hearts, and most importantly their desires.

Erotic romance is hot and graphic, letting instincts run over the conventions of polite society. This titillating variation on the time-honored romance novel intertwines sex with romance as a tool to advance the storyline. The style is provocative—what some would call naughty.  Initially, a reader who is not familiar with the genre could perceive the sex scenes as gratuitous, yet they are integral and meaningful to the story. A good erotic romance author will share their characters’ feelings and insights before, during, and after sexual encounters—sharing intimate knowledge of their most fiercely guarded secrets.

Today’s heroine has a career and daily challenges, and these common experiences resonate with the reader. She is independent and accepts her sexuality, whether she is with a man or another woman—and no matter how dominant, submissive or versatile she likes her partners, she’s willing to go out and find them if need be. She takes charge of her life, unlike the traditional swooning, gothic heroine found in many romance novels, waiting for her One True Love to come and rescue her. Erotic heroines don’t have time for that. Their lives are often hectic and overbooked—qualities which, for some characters, some in handy as excuses to avoid intimacy.

Having sex isn’t nearly as intimidating as falling in love, and the heroine shares her subversive emotions of insecurity and doubt. The pain of love lost, unrequited love or a past relationship gone wrong can sully her ability to trust a new love interest (or indeed anyone), and drive her behind a shield of indifference. However, true love is the strongest force known to humankind and energizes even the most jaded soul. Being in love makes her vulnerable and strong at the same time.

With a variety of characters, the reader can see themselves in the participants or be a voyeur; in either case, that connection creates a bond with the characters and keeps the reader engaged. Women and men can enjoy erotic romance, and a well-written novel shares a variety of their perspectives. Erotic romance blends hedonistic sex scenes with tender passion, and the combination sizzles on the page. The reader feels this heat right alongside the characters as their growing tension tightens into tingling awareness. Wanton hedonism takes charge, revealing the core of their carnal desire and tender emotions to the reader—and together, they experience ultimate satisfaction.

But erotic romance doesn’t end with an orgasm—sometimes it begins with one. The heroine continues to battle antagonistic forces until love triumphs. Sometimes the heroine and her lover will decide that their future is together; sometimes one of them will move on. Either way, love unearths the most hidden and vulnerable aspects of the heroine and allows her to grow stronger from the experience—a “happily ever after” ending in its own right. In the end, she emerges confident and courageous.

Erotic romance empowers women to be the heroines of their own lives.

***

Sally Swanson is the author of the Soul Desire trilogy and the Ghost Lovers series. When she was twelve, she started to write her life story and realized she needed to live life before launching a writing career. To that end, she’s lived in or visited 46 of the 50 states and learned to speak Spanish while living in Mexico City, Costa Rica, and Puerto Rico. If you haven’t yet guessed, she loves to travel—and, while doing do, she discovers strange-yet-true stories to provide fuel for Ghost Lovers, her latest paranormal romance series. If you like ghosts and steamy sensuality, you will love Ghost Dreams and Ghost Emerald, now available in multiple e-book formats.

 

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