I’ve been a reader since I could hold a book. I’ve been a romance reader since I discovered the racy romances in the library while in middle school. I’d stay up late at night reading them with a flashlight. Talk about a great escape. Cut to twenty years later . . . The other day my youngest daughter came home from middle school, put her hands on her hips and gave me a long look. “Smart And Sexy?” she demanded. “Really?”
Well, huh. Smart And Sexy is the 4/07 title of my upcoming Brava, and I hadn’t mentioned it to her because unlike me at that age, she does not spend hours in the library reading racy romances. “Where did you hear that?”
“On your blog, mom. You have the cover there. In computer class, my friends all had it up on their screen.”
The cover is . . . hot. Definitely suggestive. It’s of a woman climbing onto a man’s lap. Oh. Oh. “And you were embarrassed.”
“Why can’t you write history books, or something really dull? Instead everyone always wants to go look at your covers. It’s . . .” She searched for the right word. “Ewwww.”
“I see.” And I did. In fact, I’ve been struggling with this for some time. As a mother of three daughters, all becoming teenagers, is it irresponsible of me to be writing such hot and sexy books? At first, given my daughter’s horror, I decided yes. I decided hey, I also write funny. I write mystery. I could do those things instead and leave out all the sex. I even wrote up a proposal for a funny mystery series about a rather quirky pastry chef whose shop has a ghost haunting it. This ghost is an old woman who runs a geriatric P.I. firm from the great beyond, much to her very alive grandson’s chagrin. And guess what happened. The steady, non-ghost believing grandson was hot and sexy and alpha, and had this insane attraction to the pastry chef, even as she drove him crazy on a daily basis. And they wanted to have sex. A lot of it. Damn it. Picture me tossing the proposal over my shoulder and plopping my head down on my desk as I gave in.
I can’t seem to help myself. I love love. I love romance. I love making characters fall in love, and yeah, I like making their stories spicy while I’m at it. I don’t know what that says about me, but there it is. I’m in this for the long haul.
But if my daughter has her vote, my covers and titles wouldn’t embarrass her in computer class … So I guess my question is, as a reader or author, have any of you had a moment’s discomfort over your reading/writing habits?