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1130481_99649363valentinebytnineketinI’ve got to confess, I am not the best person to be writing about romance. Sure, I write erotic romance, but I’m uncomfortable with love in general.

You’d think that would mean I’m in the wrong line of work. Quite the contrary. I’ll tear up when my characters finally voice their love for each other, but the word itself – LOVE – crops up very rarely in my stories, often remaining unspoken because of fear. Fear that love won’t be reciprocated, fear it will be lost, fear it’s too soon, fear it’s too late. It’s just a big confession that my character tend to keep it to themselves until one of them is strong enough to finally say it.

I might be uncomfortable with love, but I’m a sucker for a passionate declaration of it: Mr. Darcy with Elizabeth, Westley’s “as you wish” down the ravine, and Arwen relinquishing an immortal life for Aragorn. I pass on that love for a genuine romantic confession through my own works of erotic romance.

There’s no denying that my romantically entangled characters have their tender moments. Renee and Britt in Winter Howl in particular had some beautiful scenes, with Renee’s sometimes crippling anxiety and Britt’s understanding, to the point where Renee trusted Britt as her safe space in all ways, in all things.

Even my evil characters have their amazingly heartbreaking moments (villains need love, too, which is practically my motto). In Cry Wolf, my character Kelly has some spectacular sex – if I do say so myself – with antagonist Abraham, driven almost entirely by that very antagonism. It definitely rekindled my devotion to hate!sex. However, Kelly and Abraham have something in common that so few share. Loneliness is one of the keenest emotional pains, and that comes out a lot in Cry Wolf. Briefly not being alone makes even their sex fighting poignant at the right places.

Ah, Cry Wolf. A book which incidentally has one of my sappiest romantic declarations in the history of my black, shriveled heart. Sometimes I even get a little misty reading it over.

I’ve said before that cynics are romantics at their core, just chronically disappointed. Well, erotic romance allows my characters – be they mentally ill, dangerously power, powerfully dangerous, or sweetly normal – to have their chance at love, for someone to love them for exactly what they are. If they’re really lucky, they get to hear just how much their partner needs them, because saying it makes everything more real.


What are some romantic declarations you’ve enjoyed and got the waterworks flowing, either in your own works or other authors?


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