Seven Things I’ve discovered in writing Erotic Romances:
(1) It’s not just about sex—really! It’s actually secondary to the characters and plot. If your story isn’t solid, readers won’t buy it in any genre. And with the influx of new writers in this or any genre the field will soon weed out weak storytelling.
(2) While I’m on the topic of genre: mixed genre is all the rage. Can you tell a great sci-fi story with spicy, explicit scenes added in? Or perhaps a gothic horror erotic fantasy? Mixing it up makes it original and unique and can be your ticket in.
(3) Know your target audience which is the same advice you would get in any genre. And be specific about who you are writing for when approaching a publisher.
(4) Perspective is pivotal: The female point of view in the first person is powerful in this kind of writing. If you do go for she says/he says, make sure it’s in separate chapters to avoid head-hopping as frowned on here as in any other kind of writing.
(5) Be original: readers of this genre are very astute and are as aware of cliché plot lines as anywhere else. Maybe in fact more so as they are usually avid readers looking for something different to take them away from the mundane aspects of real life.
(6) Let the sexual tension build. A book like this usually requires foreplay. Sex on the first page doesn’t normally work. Give a couple of chapters at least of build up the tension to make the fantasy grow.
(7) Enjoy the journey. It can be rewarding in many ways!
Happy reading, Angelina J. Windsor
Dragonstone Wolves Series
Angelina J. Windsor
Genre: Gothic Paranormal Historical Erotica
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Date of Publication: August 2015
Number of pages: 73
Word Count: 23,000
An ancient curse. A darkly handsome lord. A desperate woman.
Hungry and homeless, Isobelle refuses to sell her only possession, her body. When she is finally driven to end her suffering, Lord Bram Snowdon rescues her.
Bram lives under a curse, one that's driven him to become a creature in hiding, knowing every full moon will turn him into a monster.
Bram and Isobelle both have demons to fight, and their struggles soon turn to lust...and love. But destiny awaits them: they are fated to help the Dragonstone clan reclaim its birthright. This mission puts Isobelle's life in peril and worse, puts Bram's trust in her at risk.
Morganas, daughter of the Merlin, mage of Dragonstone and Avalon, offers to be a source of the purest help to Isobelle but also becomes her darkest temptation.
An adult historical romance from Ellora’s Cave
Inside Scoop: This story contains a scorching-hot f/f scene.
Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the Earth,
Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep.
John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book IV
A sound. A shadow. The breath stilled in my lungs. I froze mid-stride, icy tentacles of fear twisted around my desperate heart. I waited with every fiber of my body alert to my surroundings. This close to my goal I could not, nay, would not, be denied. A board creaked. The certainty I was not alone slithered through my mind. Evil surely awaited in the rising mist of the gloaming. It crept silently in over the water and beclouded the bottom of the river below. I had to hurry. I willed my body to move and lurched to the dark wooden railing, grasping it with stiffened fingers. Looking down, I could see the mist rising thicker and settling on the cold rushing water. I shuddered. I fancied the swirling mist forming itself into the searching fingers of death. A macabre welcome surely awaited me with absolution for my sins, an end to the agony that my life had become. I felt no hesitation in my mission.
A creak. Someone was on the bridge with me. I panicked and looked back towards the muffled footfalls and barely discernible creaks that echoed loudly in my head. The mist felt a living entity as it pursued me over the wide wooden planks and obscured my view. Wait. The deep voice pierced my head a split second before I threw a leg up over the wooden railing and hoisted myself upwards. No time to waste. Just a couple more seconds and my pain would be over forever. The devil would not win my soul.
Strong arms pulled me off balance and I tumbled off the railing against a hard body. I screeched with anger and agony, fighting the interference tooth and nail with my clenched fists. Food and shelter cost too dearly. I wanted no part of any rescue.
“Let me go! I want to die!”
“Hush, no one wants to die,” a low throaty voice soothed.
His body radiated heat and calmed my tormented mind. I found I wanted to stay within the confines of his arms and be warmed. What had happened to my death wish? Was a warm man enough to turn me away from a choice that had seemed inevitable and well-chosen only moments ago? That I had promised myself this very night. I couldn’t go back. No one could make me. I would not, could not let that happen, but still I did not struggle. I let myself be embraced by the stranger while my mind raced.
He held me for an indeterminable amount of time ’til my thoughts finally quieted. I could hear the water as it rushed over the rocks fifty feet below. I breathed in his fresh woodsy odor of pine and wood smoke and I began to recover. I become aware that he was far taller than I for my head was tucked in well below his chin. As he held me thoughts came into my mind, thoughts of not being hungry and not having been reduced to consider begging for a single hard crust of bread in exchange for sexual favors. Thoughts instead of what it felt like to have a full belly and lie in a warm bed. Luxuries I had not had thought existed for me anymore. The man’s arms were indeed magical if they could offer such comfort, fleeting though it might be.
“Are ye feeling better, lass?”
His lilting accent further soothed me as I recognized a fellow countryman.
“Aye,” I answered simply, surprised that I was. I should have pulled away but I found I could not. I wanted to stay in his embrace. My arms crept around him of their own volition and I hugged him closer. His breathing slowed while his lower body pressed hard into mine. I felt his manhood firm against my stomach and it sent the first real excitement I had ever felt for a man coursing through my body. I was alive. Life was still possible. My body wanted to celebrate its victory.
About the Author:
Angelina J. Windsor, Sugar & Spice and Everything…Naughty, hails from Canada. Married to the love of her life, she has combined her love of romance and the paranormal with her interest in exploring highly charged erotica in a historical setting in her newest book, Seventh Son, first book in the Dragonstone Wolves Series.
A love of reading and writing sent her on her life’s quest to connect with others over the written word, “for having our voices heard is akin to sharing our souls”. She hopes her characters will touch your heart and help you escape the bonds of this Earth as she surrounds you with an otherworldly experience where werewolves and goddesses roam freely and break all the rules. She loves to be approached about the journey of writing.
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