Liz Everly's Blog, page 113

Sexy Saturday Round-Up

By Liz Everly and the Lady Smut bloggers

Hello, Sexy! It’s a very special Saturday in the States because it’s the start of a long holiday weekend. But I think we should all celebrate today with some good reading from the blog-o-sphere. Have fun!

from Liz:

Drive-thru sex boxes in Zurich

100-year-old Sex Therapist Tells it Like it IS (We’ve posted this last week, but love it so much we posted it again.)

Becoming a  Lean Mean Writing Machine

Porter Anderson on e-book cards.

From Elizabeth:

No tops, please, we’re British. Actress Keira Knightley exposes breasts to join #freethenipple campaign.

Get out your wallet. Here are the 10 most expensive perfumes in the world.

Oh, the things you learn making a living as a porn banner designer.

Got some time on your hands (or maybe you just don’t feel like working!). Try to guess the classic first lines of novels written in emojis.

From Madeline:

Dating naked works!

One young woman is 29 and one is 31. See if you can spot the difference.

Apparently ASK MEN knows us better than we know ourselves when it comes to WHAT WOMEN WANT IN A MAN.

From Alexa:

This bookseller is talking about children’s books, but the study of selling diverse books is interesting nonetheless.

I know YOU know better, but here are five things your waxer wants other people to stop doing before Brazilians.

Who wants to field test sex coffee? You know, in the name of science.

From CMK:

600 Brazilian women need some men for their town

Eva Longoria: Sexy and Smart

Everything you need to know about ghost sex (O.O)

Stay Hungry,

Liz

Bridles & Bonkbusters with Zara Stoneley

C. Margery Kempe here to introduce a fellow Harper author, Zara Stoneley who’s got a sexy new title that mixes up horses, dogs, hot men and strong women in beautiful Cheshire. Welcome, Zara — and take it away!

Over the last two years I’ve had a few books published, erotic novels and erotic romances and I’ve noticed a trend. My muse has been edging me back closer to home. Persistently. And then, at the end of last year, my editor gave me the final shove and I found myself writing the type of book that a good friend of mine told me I should have been writing from the start.

So, Stable Mates is a bit different to my previous titles – it’s my first ‘bonkbuster’. The type of book I used to devour, but with a more modern twist.  If you’re a Brit then the word ‘bonkbuster’ will probably make you think of Jilly Cooper, or Fiona Walker or Tilly Bagshawe. If you’re not…

Okay, so from the Oxford English Dictionary (where else?) we have the definition “a type of popular novel characterized by frequent explicit sexual encounters between the characters.” A play on the term ‘blockbuster’ and bonk, British slang for sex.

It’s been called a ‘romp through the English countryside’, and there is quite a bit of ‘romping’, but with this story you could take the sex out and it would still be a story (maybe not quite as much fun, but…) so I’ve gone sexy, as opposed to erotic…

This is no autobiography, but it’s a world I know and love – fit horsemen, fun people, gentle humour, laughs and the odd tragedy. Still naughty, but not taking itself seriously. My editor said it still made her giggle even on the third read through, and she loved all (well maybe not quite all) the men in it. And there are plenty. Mick is mine though!

Excerpt

‘It’s darker here, isn’t it?’ He looked up at the inky sky, lit with tiny pinpricks of stars.

‘Very dark.’

They both stared up silently and then he stubbed the cigarette out slowly, and Pip

watched as he ground it round and round, smaller and smaller. ‘Do you think you’ll stay here,Tom?’

‘I hope so. This has to be better for Tabatha than what she had before.’

‘And what about for you?’

‘It feels like I belong.’ Even drunk, he instantly regretted the impulsive words. ‘Will you stay?’

‘Okay.’ One simple word. She stood up, held out a hand, smiling as he straightened up cautiously.

And as Tom slowly stripped her in the small cottage bedroom, chintzy curtains open so that the moonlight could slip into the room and caress her slim body with its silvery hue, he stared almost mesmerised at the round perfect breasts, at her unashamed naked stance.

And as her nipples hardened under his gaze, his cock stirred in response. He reached out, rubbed one rosy bud gently with his thumb. God, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d needed someone this badly. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it from his shoulders and ran the point of her nail down over his chest until it slipped into the waistband of his trousers.

Tom felt the ragged breath leave his body. It was a bloody good job he was half-cut or this would be over the second he was inside her. And he so didn’t want that, for either of them.

A shiver ran over his body, a need, a want. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman, much, much longer since he’d been with one who wanted nothing in return. Simple, straightforward pleasure, mutual need. And as he pushed Pip gently backwards so that she toppled onto the bed, he was sure that it was exactly what he was about to get.

***

Thanks for having me here today!

Bestselling author Zara Stoneley lives in deepest Cheshire surrounded by horses, dogs, cats and amazing countryside. When she’s not visiting wine bars, artisan markets or admiring the scenery in her sexy high heels or green wellies, she can be found in flip flops on the beach in Barcelona, or more likely sampling the tapas!

Zara writes hot romance and bonkbusters. Her latest novel, ‘Stable Mates’, is a fun romp through the Cheshire countryside and combines some of her greatest loves – horses, dogs, hot men and strong women (and not forgetting champagne and fast cars)!

She writes for Harper Collins and Accent Press.

Find out more about Zara:

Website      Twitter        Facebook        Google+

Stable Mates

Secrets and scandals, love and lust – when the ‘Cheshire Set’ are up against the ‘Footballer’s Wives’ the only common ground is carnal…

Flirting and fun seem the perfect antidote for Lottie’s battered heart, and where better to find them than back in tranquil Tippermere, home of sexy eventer Rory Steel, the smiling Irish eyes of hunky farrier Mick O’Neal, and mysterious newcomer, model Tom Strachan?

But when landowner Marcus James drops dead unexpectedly, and the threat of his waggish wife Amanda selling the heart of the village out from under them looms large, things look like they’re about to heat up in and out of the saddle.

With tensions running high, and the champagne flowing as freely as the adrenalin, is it any wonder that love catches more than one of them unawares?

Buy links –

Amazon       Barnes & Noble      Kobo   Foyles  Waterstones

Sainsbury’s      Google Play        iTunes    Blackwells

Mistress of Sex Vs. True Dick: Where’s the Emmy Love?

By Madeline Iva

Matthew Mcconaughey did not win the Emmy for his pessimistic brainiac role in TRUE DETECTIVE. He was robbed. Robbed I tell you.

Why do we care? Because Bryan Cranston’s win was Matthew Mcconaughey’s loss, and that’s just not right.

Although, Mr. TRUE DETECTIVE can’t exactly cry me a river can he? “So you won the Oscar, the Sexiest Man Alive and now you want the Emmy, too?” Harrelson quipped. “Isn’t that a little bit greedy?”

I still say Mccaunghey deserved the Emmy over Bryan Cranston. I’ll admit BREAKING BAD had the most engrossing–if confounding–father/son-ish bromance going on, but after all the years of all the other Emmy wins, did they really deserve to sweep the Emmy’s again? I think not.

Masters of Sex, where the women are smart, and the men are good looking.

But my real tears are reserved for MASTERS OF SEX.  I’m glad Allison Janey won, because she’s wonderful.  All the acting in this show is quite excellent.  Almost everyone plays a bit against type. The show is full of richly layered characters, in a Mad Man-esque sort of way. It features my favorite fantasy: smart women paired against very attractive, if somewhat tortured men.

Yet I am probably most impressed with Michael Sheen. For Michael Sheen to go from chewing the scenery as King of the Lycans in UNDERWORLD to this uptight and repressed product of his time, who is still earnestly curious about how sex really works is wonderful to behold.  I mean, my lust for Mcconaughey’s body aside, Sheen is the one who really deserves an Emmy.  Hell, I’d give him an Emmy just for his exceptionally good taste in dating Sarah Silverman.

Now I know other folks may not appreciate the show.  Some (including my husband) have pointed out that the show is nothing but talking heads interspersed with some artful moaning by a naked women on a bare table having another orgasm.

Just another woman moaning with pleasure.

My response is So??? What’s wrong with that?

MASTERS OF SEX is about the revolution of women.  Did we really think women could become equal to men while still sexually hobbled?

The show reveals the evolution of sexual enlightenment in the modern age, and that’s something to celebrate, people.

It’s a show that’s all about authoritative societal repression vs. bacchus — and bacchus almost always wins.

The show is an advocate for of the good side of sex that empowers people–especially women–no matter what form it takes.

To my mind it deserves as many Emmy’s as they’ve got.

Meanwhile, if you want to stimulate your happy zone, follow Lady Smut.  We’ll give you pleasure every day of the week.

Why are these people laughing? ; >

 

Banging For Bucks? There’s An App For That!

By Elizabeth Shore

Maybe I’m late to the party, but I had no idea there’s an app that will put virtual condensation on my phone screen so I can doodle on it like a steamy bathroom mirror. So useful! Or an app that’ll make fart noises I can play for my friends. Sure to make me the envy of all! Yet for all the crazy apps out there, I came across one the other day that made my Lady Smut antenna perk up with interest. It’s called Peppr, and it allows potential johns to easily hook up with available “ladies of the night” in their area. It provides pertinent info such as physical descriptions and price lists for offered services, and then for a small booking fee the appointment can be made. It’s simple, it’s discreet, and … oh wait. Only available in Berlin.

Prostitution, and the advertising of it, is completely legal in Germany. Whatever the underlying circumstances, if one chooses it as a profession there are methods in place to try to make it safer than, say, just turning a blind eye to women walking the streets and hoping for the best. Germany’s Prostitution Act of 2002 was designed to make it possible for prostitutes to get health insurance and social security, along with improving conditions under which they work. The idea was to treat it like any other job and allow the workers measures of protection as well as the ability to save for retirement by paying into pension schemes. And legal apps like Pepper ease away from the sex trade the need for pimps.

Given that there’s no way we’re never not going to have hookers around, why not try to regulate it, right? Or so goes the thinking. After all, estimates have been made that the German legal sex trade is worth a staggering 16 billion euros a year. But is the approach there working? Depends on who you ask. Human rights advocates estimate that 90% of sex workers are forced into the trade. Yes, you read that right. 90 percent. Women from poorer eastern block countries like Bulgaria and Romania have flooded the German sex trade market and caused prices to tumble. Many of them are also willing to undertake risky sex acts – such as not requiring condoms – making it tougher for those who balk at it to get business. Yet there are women who willingly enter the business and who hunger for the opportunity to do so legally.  Hmmm. So what’s a prostitution-supporting country to do? Perhaps try the Swedish approach.

In Sweden it’s not legal to sell sex, but it is illegal to pay for it. So if a john gets busted, it’s only he who’s in trouble, not the one offering the services. This approach is gaining traction in other European countries, most notably France. But see, here’s the problem. Germany’s building huge mega brothels right along the German/French border. So if France gets tougher on those in the sex trade, willing clients just make a quick trip across the border and presto-chango! German workers willingly – and legally – await them.

With prostitution, as with many things nowadays, the internet has changed the way business is conducted. The Economist recently published an interesting article about the business of the sex trade, citing the app Peppr that I referenced earlier, as well as talking about chat forums where sex workers can ask questions of one another about anything from cleaning sheets to finding quick childcare. Prostitutes are maintaining their own websites, learning about SEO, and for the most part functioning like any other freelancer. Their expertise just happens to be sex.

Sex is going to happen, and people are going to pay for it. Are new ways of thinking about the sex trade industry and available opportunities on the ‘net for those in the biz a positive step forward or a path toward disaster? Sound off below and follow us at Lady Smut. We’ll keep you thinking.

 

Guest Post: Megan Morgan—How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Fall in Love with Love

By Megan Morgan

I became a writer at fourteen. ‘Became a writer’ sounds as though I burst upon the literary world, educated and adroit, with a masterfully-penned bestseller in my hands. This was not the case.

You’re going to laugh. It’s okay.

I was ‘that’ teenager, the Gothy, morbid one that loved horror movies and horror novels. Anything scary and scream-y and bloodcurdling, I was there. I was a fan of the top horror writers at the time–Clive Barker, Anne Rice, Tanith Lee, Stephen King–especially Stephen King. That was why, at the tender age of fourteen, I decided I would be the next Stephen King. Nay, Stephen King times ten.

This was quite the delusion of grandeur, to claim I would be Stephen King’s nemesis, especially since I hadn’t so much as written an entire short story up until that point. But hey, it gave me a place to start.

For most of my teens and adult life, I wrote horror–apart from a brief spate in my early twenties when I became uncharacteristically religious and decided it no longer lined up with my world views. Then I wrote sci-fi and fantasy.

One thing I definitely didn’t write was romance.

I was caught up in the notion held by certain literary echelons that romance and erotica are not ‘real writing.’ That, despite holding for decades the largest share of the bookseller’s market, producing more titles, authors, and bestsellers than any other genre, raking in millions in revenue, and having books made into movies and translated into all languages, romance is the bottom of the literature barrel: the dregs, the scum. The fluff no one takes seriously.

For me, who tried in vain to keep romance from leaking into my work (and stomping my foot when it wouldn’t go away), it was a case of the lady doth protest too much.

The literary world is still full of people who don’t believe romance and erotica have any merit. We will probably never change these people’s minds. However, we can laugh at them. Laugh, because, they’re either floating on a sea of delusion or drowning in a lake of double standards.

Love and sex are everywhere, in everything. Why do romance and erotica writers garner ridicule for putting it center stage?

Love seeps into every form of entertainment we consume–movies, TV shows, books. Love stains every ‘proper, respectable’ archetype, from the bitter action hero who goes on a rampage to avenge his wife’s murder, to the warlord who saves the princess, to the misunderstood villain trying to save his family. In real life, it’s even more intense. Most people spend their lives in pursuit of love and sex: find a partner, find a mate, find someone to grow old and have children with. People move mountains to protect the one they love. Life is a romance novel. If you’re lucky, life is an erotic romance novel.

Three years ago, I finally gave in. I became a real writer. I discovered in the process I’m much better at writing about matters of the heart and matters beneath the sheets than I am about vampires. Oh, wait–I still write about vampires, they just get it on now. As vampires should and would.

I haven’t given up horror though, as I write urban fantasy as well. Same flavor, but with a little dash of love and sex, the stuff I always tried to keep from creeping in.

I’m sorry, Stephen King, it looks like we won’t be fighting to the death after all. However, if you want to go, Nora Roberts, come find me.

 

 

Bio:

Megan Morgan is a paranormal romance, erotica, and urban fantasy author from Cleveland, Ohio. Bartender by day and purveyor of things that go bump at night, she likes her fiction scary and sexy. She’s a member of the RWA and trying to turn writing into her day job, so she can be on the other side of the bar for a change. Currently published with House of Erotica, she is also the author of a three-book urban fantasy series coming soon from Kensington Press.

 

Website: http://www.meganmorganauthor.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/morgan_romance

FB: https://www.facebook.com/megan.morgan.author

Taking it All Off

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

I spent most of my weekend writing a strip scene for my work in progress. Well, not a standard strip scene; my heroine has a burlesque act that is key to how she expresses her sexuality.

Originally, when I was mentally mapped out the skeleton of this book, I’d envisioned her as a straight-up stripper–erm, erotic dancer–but my friend and critique partner made this face when I suggested it. You know the face. Yeah, that one.

Yeah. Kinda like that face.

I’d envisioned an empowered heroine who took her clothes off not in some inner city titty bar or in a skeevy road house, but in a classy club where she turned the whole potentially debasing experience into an expression of her sexual power. When I told my CP that, she made The Face. “You’re going to have a hard time selling that.” See, my CP has had a very, very eclectic life, one which somehow involved getting to know a group of strippers (I’ve yet to get her to drink enough red wine to tell me the whole story.) If she says it’s not gonna fly, I believe her.

Unwilling to give up easily (surprise!), I turned instead to burlesque. I like burlesque; I enjoy me a good show especially one with a flair for the dramatic. Burlesque manages to turn the tawdry into deliciously naughty. It’s classy and sexy and fun. Painted with the tones of old circus shows crossed with vaudeville and dance halls and decadent turn-of-the-20th-century clubs like the Moulin Rouge, burlesque is a damn good time. Added to that, yes, it is empowering. I’ve watched documentaries on modern burlesque shows, current burlesque classes, and the history of burlesque. I’ve seen testimonials from women recovering from emotional and sexual conflict and abuse who cautiously are re-learning how to value their selves and their bodies through burlesque. I can’t possibly understand it fully, but I find it fascinating and inspiring.

It’s a sad state of society that male striptease doesn’t bear the same stigma that accompanies women strippers. Certainly, the successful movie Magic Mike painted the male revue as a fantasy for the women patrons, the boyfriends they never could have in real life. I’m interested to see how and if the recently released the documentary by actor Joe Manganiello, La Bare, a behind-the-scenes feature on the lives of male strippers, supports or disproves this image. (It also features model Ruben, stage name “Angelo”, who was an Ellora’s Cave Caveman cover model and who was gunned down while defending another man outside a Dallas club in 2012.)

See? FUN.

But until then, I vicariously burlesque.

Do you think there’s a difference between stripping and burlesque or are we just kidding ourselves? Will Romancelandia be able to handle a heroine in non-erotica/erotic romance who takes her clothes off for money and doesn’t apologize for it?

Follow Lady Smut. We never lose our flair for the dramatic.

Walk the Walk, Talk the Talk, F*ck the F*ck

I’m not a prude. I promise.

By Alexa Day

It’s been almost a year since I joined this merry bunch, and I think we’ve come to know a little about each other. So you know that I’m not a prude. I probably don’t have to keep insisting that I’m not a prude, right? You know about my stance on robot sex (yes, please) and airport sex (yes, please) and all the rest. You’re smart, discerning folks; you get that I’m not a prude.

I’m all in favor of the dirty talk, for instance. I like writing the sort of heroine who doesn’t mind a little of the coarse language, the kind of woman who’s okay with all the various words used to describe all the various parts and acts that come into play in erotic fiction. My typical heroine is not easily shocked, unless it’s by the depth of her emotions for the hero.

Having said that, I find that my genre’s comfort level with coarse language has given rise to a disturbing trend. I think characters are starting to get a little too comfortable with profanity, dirty talk, and general vulgarity.

I know that sounds a little prissy. Bear with me here.

Let us briefly consider the humble f-bomb: f*ck.

As is the case with so many words, there is absolutely a time and place for the word “f*ck.” If you’ve watched something you value fall through space toward the floor, the ground, or the swirling waters of a newly flushed toilet, you know what I’m saying. But as much as we need the word “f*ck” for those purposes, there are just as certainly places we don’t need it or don’t need quite so much of it.

I don’t think we need so much “f*ck” in bed, but then, I don’t think we need so much dialogue in bed. One of my friends called me on this during an impromptu reading over drinks in her living room. “We just don’t do all this talking,” she said. “I mean, do people do all this talking?”

I also think men are less likely to use “f*ck” when they’re with a woman they’re starting to care about. Men are such strange creatures. The more they care about a woman, the more they’re inclined to clean up their mouths, unless they’re in the throes of it. In other words, it makes more sense to me that a man would find himself chanting, “f*ck f*ck f*ck,” on the way to climax than whispering, “F*ck, I love you,” during the postcoital cuddle. A certain reverence attaches to a declaration of love, particularly in a romance. Doesn’t “f*ck” dilute that?

And I have to wonder about those fictional men who open up with the explicit dialogue right after meeting the heroine. I mean, I get that we’re living in a world of frank speech, and I did just say that my heroines have no problem with that. But I think a girl has to be particularly DTF before she’s open to hearing about a man’s cock and his plans for it right after being introduced. The dance of seduction has more than one step, after all. What we might lose in ballsy initiative, we’d gain in anticipation. Subtlety doesn’t kill confidence. Subtlety amplifies confidence.

I don’t want to come down too hard on one side or the other. So much of this is just a matter of taste. I just think people in real life use the word “f*ck” in real conversation a hell of a lot less than it seems to appear in erotic dialogue. Maybe part of it is an author’s eagerness to make sure her men don’t sound like women. Maybe it’s an effort to sound edgy — every “f*ck” means this isn’t your mom’s romance novel. But I think there’s a point where f*ck-heavy dialogue starts to sound like that teenager at camp who’s trying too hard.

I would know. I was that teenager.

So what do you think? Am I, despite my protestations, a prude? Let me know in the comments.

And follow Lady Smut, for f*ck’s sake.

Sexy Saturday Round-Up

By Liz Everly and the Lady Smut Bloggers

Hello, Sexy! Welcome to your weekend. What a pleasure to start it off with some reading from the web curated by the Lady smut bloggers.

Enjoy!

From Liz:

Five things done differently in healthy relationships.

On Vampires  (you know I love my sexy vamps).

A new documentary on BDSM porn.

From Elizabeth:

Want to know what’s wrong with sex today? Ask a 100-year-old sex therapist.

Forget about real people! For the best sex in town, try a robot.

Regular baseball may be boring, but not baseball erotica!

Hoo-boy, now you can drink from Kate Moss’s breast – in the form of a champagne glass.

From Alexa:

Absence makes the heart grow fonder … and it makes for better sleep, apparently.

I’d be happier about the FDA’s October workshop if I knew how they defined “female sexual dysfunction.”

Nothing secret about it — I’ve played quite a few of these 50 so-called “dorky songs” loudly and proudly.

From Madeline:

I present to you–the Most Beautiful Butts of Hollywood.

So THAT’S where it went! Sex toy in woman for 10 years.

Sorta feel sorry for the guy with feelings—but only sorta–as Chelsea Lately crew mocks Bachelorette loser.

Edible chocolate legos. For the creative child in you.

 

Stay Hungry,

Liz

 

P.S. Don’t forget to subscribe–you know you want to.

 

Mary T. Bradford: My Husband’s Sin

By C. Margery Kempe

Hello from Ireland! I’m meeting up with my lovely publisher tonight, so in the meantime to keep you busy I have another Tirgearr writer to entertain you. Don’t forget, too, that we’re celebrating Alexa Day’s release Turnabout Day, a steamy steampunk erotica short. Stop by the Lady Smut Facebook page and Alexa’s page for more!

And now take it away, Mary!

I love family. It has always been something that is very important to me, even from a very young age. I recall always loving my parents and never wanting to cause them hurt. So I was always well behaved and never rocked the boat. It was the way we were reared as they say. I was born in the sixties and into a very different Ireland to what it is now. I had a happy childhood and my early teens were unexciting. It was when I left home at 18 that I learnt just how cruel the world can be.

It was one of the reasons I started writing. Here was a diverse world that I was unaware of while young and living in a small town, but now with living in our capital city, I saw a very different life. I wrote small pieces about stuff that happened around me and to me. Then, once I married and later had my children, I wrote about the funny amusing things the children got up to daily.

So writing and family goes hand in hand for me, just like the usual horse and carriage. My writing work involves all aspects of family life. It includes all the emotions, the joys, the heartaches and the celebrations and the failures, births and marriages and deaths. So when I did get around to writing a novel, it was no surprise to have it centred on, yes you guessed it, family.

I took an everyday situation and asked the ‘what if?’ questions and soon I had my novel My Husband’s Sin. The family unit is important in our society, but what happens when that unit, the secure rock that has been your anchor is whipped from beneath you unexpectedly? This is what I explore in my writing the book. I take a family like yours or mine, ordinary working, could be your neighbours, your relations, and give it a challenge, an unexpected revelation and watch what happens.

This is the beauty of writing. I find it doesn’t have to be complicated and high brow, a simple regular story made extraordinary.  So if you are thinking of taking the plunge in to writing, you need not look too far from home for your inspiration. Happy writing.

My Husband’s Sin is the debut novel from Mary T Bradford. She is an Irish author, married and mother of four children. She has been writing short stories for many years with which she has enjoyed publishing success in Ireland and abroad. While working on a story it happened that the story kept getting longer and the word count continued to climb, resulting with Mary having her novel. My Husband’s Sin is being launched today, the 22nd August with Tirgearr Publishing. Follow Mary on Twitter and like her on Facebook.

Thanks Mary! Be sure to stop by and wish Alexa a happy release day and get a copy of Turnabout Day and tell all the Lady Smut crew what you think. Follow us here and on Facebook because you won’t want to miss a thing.

 

They’re Hot. They’re Naked. They’re two different colors.

By Madeline Iva

Folks, there’s been a lot of really unhappy news coming from Fergusson, Missouri lately. I hope you find the ugliness as disturbing as I do.  So in an effort to ‘give peace a chance’, I’m sharing (with her permission) this email exchange that I had with Alexa Day about two weeks back.

ALEXA DAY:

Hey:

>>> I’m noticing an increase in the stats on my interracial posts. I’d like to keep that momentum up, if possible, and not just because I’m on a countdown to my own release date. Is there anything you want to hear about interracial romances, anything at all, that I haven’t already written about? Feel free to put this question to the crew.

MADELINE IVA:

>Okay.  Well, for starters, I’m interested in the difference between interracial romances between black woman & white men and black men & white women.  And hot suggestions for both.

ALEXA DAY:

You mentioned this before. I’m still not convinced there is a difference aside from big-publisher BS regarding availability. (see post HERE) But what differences are you seeing?

Nerds are Freaks Too

Koko Brown and I share a love of sexy geeks. Click to buy.

MADELINE IVA:

>> I am not seeing any differences — I know nothing about interracial romances, really, except I go drool over the covers at Ellora’s Cave occasionally.  (I spend lot of time drooling over lots of covers actually.)  Maybe some plot teasers would tempt my appetite?

What if you did a post called: “10 things to covet about interracial romances”?

ALEXA DAY:

Okay, I’m going to sketch out a couple of answers to your question. Let me know if anything strikes your fancy as I ramble, and I’ll expand on whatever is interesting for some posts and whatnot.

Here’s the most important thing to know about interracial romances: they’re romances. What draws me to one or another is the same thing that draws me to any romance, honestly.

MADELINE IVA:

What makes you drool over your favorites, Alexa? I mean, I know you’ve done a post somewhat like this before (HERE) but for people who know NOTHING about interracial romances–or maybe need reminding–are they romances that HAPPEN to have people of two different races and other than that it’s ‘just’ a romance? Or are there some basic common tropes that they tend to sort through

i.e. “The moment his female friends give him shit for dating a white girl” — etc?

ALEXA DAY:

Pliable Inhibitions: 1 (High Relief)

Edgy sexy Zenobia. Click here to buy.

I’m looking at Zenobia Renquist’s stuff because it’s edgy (mind control, sex for money). I like Veronica Tower’s stories about a couple in a rut looking for spicy role play ideas. Koko Brown is playing with one of my favorite time periods in Jezebel. I just found out Megan Hart wrote one, but I would read Megan Hart’s grocery list. I often smile at folks who say they “can’t relate” to interracial romances. At the outset, before there were any women of color in romance novels, women of color were reading them. We’re still reading them. When black readers protested that there were no black heroines, we were told to imagine ourselves as the heroine. I personally am not sure why that suggestion doesn’t cut both ways.

Beyond that, though, I have to ask what there is in an interracial romance that a white reader can’t relate to. (This is a little harder to swallow coming from readers who evidently have no trouble at all relating to characters from other planets.)

MADELINE IVA:

Yup. Well, yeah, I don’t know what gets people intimidated either – I just know I like it when people feel they can talk about racial differences you know, in a positive way.

Naked

We heart Megan Hart. Click to buy.

Like this article I read one time in GQ or some mag about “dating a black girl” — written by a black woman author, explaining her hair (Maybe wearing a silk scarf over it at night? I had a friend in high school used to do, actually.) The article referenced some black women not hopping into bed right away…but that’s all I remember from the article…I mean, not much really stuck with me, but it was a very gentle article — like “In case you were curious/intimidated, there’s really nothing to fear here folks. But here’s what I’ve noticed white guys commenting on in the past…just so you can envision what having a black girlfriend would feel like. So you can relate more.”

ALEXA DAY:

My book (Illicit Impulse) is about a woman choosing between her best friend and her fuck buddy, a choice made more complicated by a pill that enables her to have sex without commitment. That’s really it. If a reader can relate to that time-tested dilemma — will sleeping with my best friend destroy our friendship? — she can relate to the book.

If she can relate to that sex-positive fantasy from Sex and the City — fucking like a man and then walking away without a second thought — she can relate to the book. I think the real truth is that these readers are making totally unsupported presumptions about my book based on its cover, which has a black woman on it. I’ll never know for sure because no one wants to admit this.

Plucking The Pearl

I will admit this cover’s caught my eye a few times over at Ellora’s Cave. Click to buy.

Having said that, the world of interracial romance is divided for the most part into two parts –

(a) books where the characters just happen to be of different races and in which race is not important to the plot at all and

(b) books where the difference in race does matter to the plot. I typically write type (a) because it’s what I want in a real-life romance and because type (b) is too close to the unsexy part of reality.

Some people only read or write type (b) because that’s what they view as realistic. Some people like the built-in conflict in type (b) because it makes for a sweeter payoff.

To circle back to what I was saying about these books being unrelatable — if a reader can relate to feuding families (like the ones in Romeo and Juliet) she can probably relate to this. If she can relate to the old-school Native American romances, she can relate to these.

I have read type (b) romances. Sandra Kitt’s The Color of Love is a seminal work in the subgenre. Afton Locke is doing fantastic work, especially with Plucking the Pearl, set in the American South in the 1930s.

I can absolutely relate to it after integrating my high school. I just don’t want fictional racism in my life any more than I want the real thing, no matter how sweet the payoff is.

MADELINE IVA:

> I remember you said you wanted to write an interracial romance in every sub-genre type there is.

Hard to Hold On To: A Hard Ink Novella

Yay Laura Kaye! Is this one even out yet? Wait! Yes it is–it came out two days ago. Only 1.99! click to buy.

Can you blog a list of available interracials in different sub-categories? Like name ANY paranormal interracial romances? Romantic suspense? Historical? — Or is this sub-genre usually contemporary? Does the audience prefer contemporary for whatever reason?

ALEXA DAY:

IR novels in the subgenres. This is, to my mind, your best question.

There are loads of interracial paranormals. Your question is so awesome because it demonstrates that despite your interest in them, you do not see them in your usual perusal of the market.

Paranormal in general is an immense market. The IR offerings should absolutely be more visible to you, and it is a huge problem that they are not. The same is true of IR romantic suspense.

IR historicals are slowly becoming more visible, I think, which does my heart good. Left to Hollywood, the world would think black people were only in America for slavery, disappeared after the Civil War, and then conveniently reappeared in time for the Civil Rights Movement. Just last night, in one of the interracial reader groups I’m in on Facebook, a woman was all but dancing with joy upon discovering an IR Western novel. She’d never seen one before, not because they aren’t out there, but because they’re not visible to the curious reader.

There is a popular but quite understandable misconception that the readership for this subgenre is limited to contemporaries. That’s because the larger houses (*cough*Harlequin*cough*) will only put black heroines in contemporary lines, or with black heroes in historicals. (I don’t think Harlequin will put black characters in a historical. I could be dead wrong, but they won’t give me a way to search for it.)

RSVP with Love (Kimani Romance)

Not the book Alexa’s talking about, but still.

IR authors of all non-contemporary subcategories have two feasible options: self-publishing and smaller houses. Ellora’s Cave would let me have any subcategory I wanted, no questions asked; that’s why they were my first choice.

Musa let me put my IR couple in an alt-history; I’m pretty sure they’d let me have any subcat I wanted. Harlequin doesn’t think it has to wake up, and they may be right … for now. A lot of authors who want to write all subcats, only write non-contemporary subcats, or simply resent Harlequin’s behavior have chosen to avoid Harlequin altogether. That’s what I’m doing. I would love to see my name on a Harlequin, but right now, that has more to do with them than it does with me.

Basically, it’s not a subgenre limited to contemporary; it’s just that you have to work harder to find IR in anything else, if you don’t already know where to find it.

MADELINE IVA:

>>>You said with Scandal that it’s lovely that just being different races isn’t enough of a plot hurdle — so do these romances HAVE to tackle other bigger plot issues? I mean, with inspirationals their love of God is at the core of their internal working things out –otherwise it’s off-genre.   MUST an interracial romance involve discussions or feelings around race?

ALEXA DAY:

Awkward segue — with regard to whether the difference between races is, all by itself, sufficient conflict to carry an entire romance novel. Today, it probably isn’t. :)

It definitely isn’t in contemporaries. Even in historicals, though, the difference in races will only go so far as a conflict point. Maybe it’s attraction conflict (“she is really, really hot, but I bet she’s not interested in white guys and I wouldn’t know what to say anyway”).

Illicit Impulse

Alexa’s Book abt a woman who wants to have sex & walk away– Click to buy.

Maybe it’s subordinate to main conflict; I can see a Civil Rights Era IR plot in my head between a handsome Klan infiltrator from up DC way and a woman he absolutely cannot be seen with for fear of endangering his cover and her life. They’re both facing a clear danger from a common threat — so pushed together — but under the historical and geographical circumstances, both will be hesitant to pursue anything romantically.

Every so often, the difference between races arises in BDSM communities, and it *might* be a sufficient sole conflict there. Black people who enjoy submission are often tremendously conflicted over it. I’m toying with a short story like that, and Bridget Midway writes BDSM with black characters, although I don’t think she takes it racial.

MADELINE IVA:

> Here’s another question I had — How do people writing erotica or erotic romance appreciate physical qualities without it seeming like fetishization?

ALEXA DAY:

> … Your question about fetishization vs attraction is an excellent question, too. A great many black readers presume interracial erotica and erotic romance is per se fetish, which is sad. So many writers like me started writing erotic romance and erotica because those are the publishers who would take IR romances! We’re just writing hotter stories, not the fetish stuff.

But this was not your question.

I am fortunate, in a very strange way, to know what it is like when a person of a different race is attracted to me and what it is like to be fetishized, so I can write it from experience.

Simply put, just to observe that something is hot is not to fetishize it. In my book, hero John loves how alive heroine Grace’s skin looks, but her vulnerability makes him want to damage their friendship. Heroine Grace loves fuck buddy Tal’s golden boy looks, but she keeps him because he’s spectacular in bed and a gentlemanly lay.

When characters are absolutely fixated on certain racially distinctive attributes, to the exclusion of other characteristics, physical and otherwise, the fetish is on. With black characters, it’s important to avoid using the phrase “big black” to describe anything at all. ;) Seriously, “big black car” is a bad idea.

Alexa’s latest –Steampunk story about the mistress of the plantation switching places with her worker. Click to buy.

MADELINE IVA:

>>Oh yeah, and btw, I feel awkard as hell emailing you all this.  Sometimes things can sound a certain way over email that the author does *not* intend.  So please read this with all due intended gentle-ness, curiosity, and open confessions of ignorance…

ALEXA DAY:

Two pieces of advice in this regard:

(1) if in doubt, write it the way you would write anything else. Your other characters probably aren’t fetishizing each other, either.

(2) Eve Vaughn gave would-be IR writers this advice a couple of Romanticons ago: “Find a black friend. We want to help. Get us to read what you have. If it doesn’t sound right, we will tell you. We want you to get it right.”

>Wow, that’s a lot to get through, isn’t it? I hope it is helpful/useful/interesting. Let me know if you see a blog post in any of that.

There is a lot of really ugly stuff going on.

MADELINE IVA:

>Yeah, but I’m excited about your blogging journey on LadySmut, and I think our numbers indicate a lot of others are too.

READERS, I hope you’re excited by Alexa’s journey as well.  Follow us at LadySmut.com for more peace, harmony, and ooh-it-feels-so-good-don’t-stop.