On Writing Romance (23 page)
If, however, the problem between the hero and heroine is still so deep and so threatening after they have made love that they may not reach a happy ending no matter how good their lovemaking is, then the sexual tension still exists. In fact, it may even be stronger, because they're no longer just fantasizing about what it would be like to be together. They know exactly what's at risk, and that raises the stakes even higher.
A
delayed
love scene is nearly always a more effective love scene, one that keeps the readers eagerly reading as they wish for more.
But don't break off a love scene just to frustrate the readers, or just to keep the story from progressing too fast. There has to be a darned good reason why two people who are ready to make love â or even kiss, for that matter â suddenly change their minds.
Delaying a love scene doesn't mean avoiding the subject. Don't send the hero off to fight in the wars, leaving the heroine knitting at home. Instead, dangle the idea in front of the readers: Show the lovers' feelings developing; show them sharing their questions and their doubts; play on their uncertainties about each other, using every moment they're together to heighten their desire for each other. If the hero and heroine don't know whether they can trust the other person, the readers don't know either â and they have to keep reading to find out.
Keep in mind that a couple's second sexual encounter is seldom as exciting as the first for the readers. You may be tempted to set the scene in an unusual location or add a slightly kinky twist to keep the excitement level high, but many times the result of that approach isn't exciting at all to the readers â just disquieting. It may be better to delay the important first lovemaking scene than to try to pep up a second one in order to maintain anticipation.
An alternative is to delay the
second
lovemaking scene. Sometimes after the hero and heroine make love once, they have good reason not to repeat the experience, and this too can increase the sexual tension. Because they know what making love together is like, their desire is piqued and the readers' interest level is even higher.
In her single title
You've Got Male
, Elizabeth Bevarly's heroine attempts to entrap the villain through online sex, but she and her partner in the investigation lose control and make love. Then they have to deal with what's happened:
“We should talk about that,” she said. “⦠about what happened between you and me last night.”
“We had sex,” he said flatly. â¦
“And that's all it was,” she said emphatically. ⦠“It won't happen again.”â¦
That remark seemed not to surprise him at all. It also seemed to piss him off. Not that she cared.
Nevertheless he sounded agreeable enough. ⦠“Sounds like we're both on the same page then. Let's get to work.” Gee, Avery thought, it was just so great when two people could talk like grownups and get right to the heart of a matter. â¦
Because their lovemaking was unforeseen and unprofessional, and a repetition would interfere with their investigation, this couple has an excellent reason for calling a halt to further intimacies. Does she really think it's wonderful? Is he really agreeable? Of course not â and every time they look at each other for the rest of the book, they (and the readers) will remember that night.
Love scenes are most effective when they build in intensity from the start of the book to the end. If your romance novel will contain several consummated love scenes (as erotica and short contemporary category romances often do), the first one should not be the most exotic, the most titillating, the most intense. When you plan the first love scene, think about where you're going to go from that point in order to build the emotional intensity between the couple â and for the readers. Save some of the good stuff for later.
No matter how sweet or spicy the level of sexuality in the story, the most important factor in a love scene is the emotions experienced by the lovers. It isn't who puts which hand where, it's how their feelings â and those of the readers â are touched. The goal of the love scene is to make the readers feel good, warm, and cherished.
That can best be done by using sensual language â words and images that evoke the readers' five senses. Sight, scent, sound, taste, and touch are all important and can be used to great effect.
Avoid euphemisms (
his throbbing shaft
or
her womanly fullness
) and clinical descriptions (it's hard to make words like
cervix
and
scrotum
sound romantic).
The very best love scenes aren't expressed in generic images of fire or lightning but in terms and images appropriate to each character's outlook, mindset, and past experience â even his hobbies or job. A gymnast will think in physical images, while a chef may compare lovemaking to food.
In her chick-lit novella
Return to Sender
, Lisa Cach uses all five senses to create an effective seduction scene:
Ten minutes later a fire was crackling happily, sending heat and an amber glow into the room. He found the sound system, tuned the radio to a station playing Christmas carols, and turned the volume down low. The first flutter of a nervous tremor went through me as he then started turning off all the lights in the room. He left a single dim table lamp lit in the corner, then ignored the vacant rocking chair and sat down beside me, his weight making the cheap futon creak, his body beside me large and warm. He stretched his arm over the back of the futon, his fingertips draping down to brush my shoulder.
Half-lit room. Wine. Fire. Quiet music. Couch. The classic setup for a smooth slide from conversation to kissing to petting and to that moment when he drew back with a question in his eyes, wanting to know if tonight meant sex. â¦
But oh, he did smell so very good.
Sight, sound, taste, touch, smell â all are used, some of them multiple times, to create a picture the readers can relate to on many levels.
The level of sensuality and physical description in love scenes varies from category to category, and even more from category books to single titles. But no matter what the type of story, the emphasis in romance is on feelings rather than on technical description. A catalog of body parts is pornography, not a romance novel.
How much detail is too much? Sometimes even well-established authors aren't sure where the limits are. Jacqui Bianchi, editorial director of Harlequin's Mills & Boon division in the 1980s, told of sitting down to lunch with an experienced author at the Ritz Hotel in London, in the early days of spicy romances. Just as the waiter was setting her appetizer in front of her, the author leaned across the table to her young editor and boomed,
“So tell me, dear, just how much sex can I have?”
The answer, of course, depends on the publisher and the type of romance. But it depends even more on the kind of story, the age and experience of the characters, the setting (for example, a couple stranded alone in the wilderness vs. a couple staying in a family member's house, where respect for the host and the lack of privacy have an impact), and the readers' comfort level (for instance, many readers are uncomfortable with unmarried lovers when there is a child nearby).
Today's heroine â no matter where her story falls in the spectrum of romance novels â is far more likely to go to bed with her hero before the wedding than was a heroine of twenty years ago. (Inspirationals are the exception here; in that case, “bedding before wedding” is forbidden.) But common sense is the key. An older and more experienced heroine is more likely to have premarital sex than a younger, virginal one. The heroine's actions must be consistent with her character and her circumstances.
Safe sex can be a troublesome issue for authors of contemporary romance. Should your heroes carry condoms? Should your characters talk about birth control, use it without discussing it, or ignore the subject? Should you give the details or assume the readers will fill in the blanks from their own imaginations?
Some readers are touched by the hero who looks after his lady by asking if she's protected. Others are turned off by the idea that these people have gotten as far as the bedroom and still know so little about each other that they have to ask.
Not only do categories vary on these issues, individual editors have distinct views on the subject of birth control and safe sex. How birth control is addressed will also depend greatly on your specific characters, their history, and their story. If a heroine already has a child from a failed relationship, she's likely to be very careful about birth control in the future.
Study books in the category you're aiming for â or books similar to your style, length, and subject matter, if you're writing single title â and then decide what your characters would be likely to do. And remember, however you opt to handle the birth control problem, your readers are looking for fantasy and escape, not instructions on how to avoid HIV.
In her romantic comedy
Catch and Keep
, Hannah Bernard uses humor to make sure we know that her characters aren't taking any chances with birth control:
“Jake ⦔ she muttered and he kissed his way up her body to her mouth, then knelt and reached for the foil package on the bedside table and ripped it open with his teeth.
“Let me ⦔ She grabbed the condom away from him and sat up, the rosy look of sensual excitement suddenly replaced by a serious look of determination. “I know how. I practiced on a cucumber.”
Bernard doesn't just add birth control because of some sort of author's checklist; instead, she uses this intimate moment to develop character, showing the unique way this heroine has prepared herself for her first lovemaking experience.
A trouble spot both in terms of political correctness and reader reaction is violence. Many historical periods were very violent, and the historical romance often reflects that. Contemporary romantic suspense plots also frequently involve violence.
How the violence is handled is important. Detailed descriptions that dwell on torture and pain are not appropriate in the romance novel. Violence is more likely to happen offstage than in a fully described scene, and it often happens before the story actually begins.
Violence within the story is more easily accepted by the readers if the characters (especially the heroine) are portrayed as resourceful rather than helpless when faced with a threat.
In her historical single title
The Warrior
, Claire Delacroix shows the villain attempting to rape the heroine:
He roared and leapt upon her, seizing her hair in his fist before he kissed her brutally.
He was heavier than she had anticipated. ⦠She rolled him toward Nissa's hiding place with an effort, fighting against her revulsion. ⦠He was harsh enough to ensure that she felt a welt rise upon her lip.
When he lifted his head and fingered the swelling with satisfaction, he had only long enough to smile before Aileen spied Nissa. The maid lifted the brass candlestick high. Aileen kept her expression demure so that her assailant would not be warned, then Nissa brought it down upon his head with a loud crack.
Though the heroine is threatened and even injured by the assault, she's still in control of herself and the situation. She doesn't fight the villain; she even plays along so she can get him into position to be taken out by the candlestick-wielding maid.
In her category romantic suspense
High-Heeled Alibi
, Sydney Ryan shows a contemporary heroine defending herself against a couple of very bad guys:
Holding her bound wrists, the gorilla nudged her forward. ⦠The creep behind her was so close, she could feel his erection pressing into her. Her wrists were bound behind her back, but her feet were free.
The thug gripping her arms released one to open the car door. As he pushed her in, she aimed her spiked heels at his groin and got off a couple good shots to his shins. â¦
“You wanna play rough?” He came at her, his shaved head ducking her flailing feet. His hand came up, struck her hard once, twice. Her head whipped right and left. Her brain rattled.
“Cut out the social niceties,” the other man growled as he slid into the driver's seat. “There'll be plenty of time for that later.”â¦
She gingerly prodded with her tongue several teeth loosened by the blows. â¦
She squirmed against the tight muscles in her upper back, and there, on her right hip she felt it â the barest weight of thin metal. The scalpel still in her lab jacket pocket. ⦠Carefully, staring straight ahead, her clasped hands began pulling the right side of her jacket behind her, quarter inch by quarter inch, until she felt the scalpel beneath her fingers like a magic wand.
“What do you want with me?” She twisted in her seat and stared boldly at the mound of a man next to her. But all her focus was concentrated on the small of her back, where her wrists met and rubbed, soundless millimeter by millimeter, against the blade of the scalpel. â¦
The scalpel sliced through the last filament of wire. Her wrists were free.
Ryan's heroine is a very cool customer, and the villains aren't quite real-life thugs; when it comes right down to it, they're more talk than action. Still, showing the heroine freeing herself helps offset the high level of violence in this scene.
Violence occurring between the hero and heroine is a particularly difficult issue for the modern romance writer. As society becomes more aware of the dangers of domestic violence, some of the action that was considered acceptable in romance novels in the past takes on a dark and uncomfortable aura. So-called bodice rippers sometimes included the rape of the heroine by the hero, but modern readers find it difficult to believe that a heroine could ever find happiness with a man who abused her, no matter how logical the author's reasoning or how true to the historical period the action may be.