This book has been out for a while, but I stumbled across it for the first time today while visiting
the blog Rubis Bleu. Who knew writing romance was so easy? I’m starting mine today. (Speaking of which, am I the only one for whom the phrase "her heaving breasts" conjures images of breasts vomiting or throwing themselves overboard?)
Speaking of Rubis Blue, she posts an example of the kind of email an attentive man ought to leave his lover "the morning after." To start with, just the notion of sending your lover a morning after email made me feel old. Email didn’t exist when I was dating. And if it did, it would have struck me as an awfully impersonal way of saying how special the previous night had been. Even so…on to her example:
"…and you make those incredibly arousing
whimpering sounds as your body shakes. Then you kiss me hard with this
overflowing passion pressing yourself against me. Especially if I start
out by teasing your lips first, just barely grazing them, flicking them
with my tongue, watching your arms straining against my hand as I hold
you down. Your eyes with that hungry, burning look in them. I felt how
hard your nipples were and how your body trembled. I just wanted to see
you. To slowly pull all of your clothes off. Watch your chest rise and
fall. To feel your thighs, your smooth skin, all the way up. Bite the
insides of your legs while feeling your hips rising under my hand. You
are beautiful. You taste so soft, warm, and sweet. You have no idea how
much I wanted to take you."
I think if I left that note on my wife’s pillow, back in prehistoric times before she was my wife and email didn’t exist, I don’t think it would have aroused her or touched her. I think it would have made her laugh her ass off.
Then again, maybe I will leave her a note like that. She loves it when I make her laugh.
UPDATE (3/23/05) Sarah Weinman unearthed this wonderful post on the blog "The Sum of Me" about how over-heated sex scenes in romance novels did little to prepare one avid reader for the pleasures, and disappointments, of "real" sex.
In romance novels, it’s not uncommon for the heroine – or hero,
even – to actually faint with pleasure. Like, without the aid of drugs.
Passed out cold because the orgasm was that good.And then they IMMEDIATELY HAVE SEX AGAIN.
This, apparently, is how you can tell if it’s true love.
This
is also called "fiction" — and reality was a bit of a let-down for a
girl who gobbled up this stuff for years. I think my (rather hilarious)
reaction to the real deal can best be summed up as: "Holy SHIT is that
good stuff, hooo boy." And then a dawning realization and an overall
feeling of – "It IS great. . . but it’s only great? I mean –
plate tectonics never came into play. I’m still conscious. The
bedsheets are not reduced to ashes and no suns have gone supernova,
from what I can tell… are you sure we did it right?"
That’s just hilarious! 🙂 Thanks for the story!
Sounds like something my husband would do–just to make me laugh. He loves to make me laugh, and he’s pretty good at it.
Wow, that reads a little too much like Smoove B for my tastes…
I’d worry. A man who can’t keep his tenses straight while writing narrative might not be able to keep much else straight.
Awe Lee, what can I say. One persons trash is another’s Lermontov. By the way even I have moved on from the Dummies of Romance to “Snoopy’s Guide to the Writing Life.” 😉
Apparently you just don’t get it. A romance novel is not something you write to your wife. The paragraph you pasted into your site would be a paragraph found “in” a romance novel itself. A novel being a book you read or write, not a personal note to someone.
Get off your high horse and learn that others may have different interests and opinions aside from what ever you may think the way things should or should not be.
Not to point out what will be obvious to you Jody upon further reflection, and when you get that high horse you speak of out of your ass, Lee didn’t write that paragraph. Further, its another person’s example of…what a man should leave on his lover pillow, not a romance novel itself. And, finally, the great thing about a persons own blog is that’s where they get to write those opinions that differ from someone elses. So, yeah, Jody, if you don’t like it, don’t visit.
But I do encourage you to visit my site, which is all Jody all the time.
I also would like to invite Jody to visit my blog, where I promise to never refer to anything coming out of or going into her ass.
I’m thinking Jody is a little out of sorts because the high horse forgot to leave a note on her pillow when it left . . .
I gotta go with Bill Engvall and ‘Love Magic’ as response to this.
once more, with feeling
Stephanie has directed me to Sarah Weinman’s weblog, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind, for her sidebar list of authors who keep a blog. So I went over there and was immediately drawn in. It’s exactly the kind of stuff I like…. Another way to pr…
once more, with feeling
Stephanie has directed me to Sarah Weinman’s weblog, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind, for her sidebar list of authors who keep a blog. So I went over there and was immediately drawn in. It’s exactly the kind of stuff I like…. Another way to pr…
once more, with feeling
Stephanie has directed me to Sarah Weinman’s weblog, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind, for her sidebar list of authors who keep a blog. So I went over there and was immediately drawn in. It’s exactly the kind of stuff I like…. Another way to pr…
once more, with feeling
Stephanie has directed me to Sarah Weinman’s weblog, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind, for her sidebar list of authors who keep a blog. So I went over there and was immediately drawn in. It’s exactly the kind of stuff I like…. Another way to pr…