The Image of a Romance Writer

Yet she’s NOT a writer but that’s an image a lot of readers have of us

The lingerie clad romance writer, sitting at her desk, typing eagerly away.  That’s how we’re perceived.  Funny, because most of my author friends write in sweats, pjs (my standard uniform) or other comfortable clothes.  Not that lingerie is uncomfortable, I bought a chemise years ago for the image of writing, and have worn it on several occasions but the truth is, I freeze in that damn thing.  It’s short, comes just to the bottom of my ass and keeps falling off my shoulders…

Does pose an interesting question though. How come we never see romance heroines in lingerie?  Oh, I mean there are a plethora of them in the Harlequin BLAZE novels and probably the Temptation line from days of yor, but heroines tend to wear less than sexy appeal unless the book has an espionage theme or something like that.

Even in my books, I can only name a few that are NOT fetish oriented where the heroine has a lingerie scene.  I’m pretty sure Angela from my contemporary romance A Christmas Favour wore something sexy for Christian (Not Christian Grey, that fucktard poseur).  In fact I KNOW she did because the night she seduced her best friend, they were headed to the Goth club.

In fact:  Here’s the excerpt where Angela dresses for The Church

His pager went off again, and he remembered that he still hadn’t told Angela about his company transferring him to Dallas. She’d be excited, certainly. The boyfriend still posed a problem, and Chris intended to interfere with her love life. He refused to accept that he had missed out on his chance to be with Angela.
He sighed as he heard the water run. Contemplating Angela’s glowing skin against his as water sluiced over them aroused him. The thought of ravishing her, running his hands through her hair to smell her only worsened his condition. Now he breathed heavier as he pictured himself kneading her flesh and her nipples became tight little buds…
“Damn it, this is ridiculous. I should go after what I want.” Chris wanted to get up. In fact, he did stand up and take two steps towards the bathroom, but he stopped himself. Right now wasn’t the right time, not after just seeing her boyfriend.
Chris sat back down and waited. Ten more minutes passed, and he’d heard her bedroom door close. He needed something to quench his thirst. His throat was dry. Chris went into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water and took a sip. “Much better,” he turned to walk back to the couch.
Angela interrupted his thoughts and startled him as he returned from the kitchen with a glass of water. Dressed in a black pleather skirt, lacy black bra and see through spider top, she could stop traffic. His glance followed her slender legs, complete with black stockings and knee-high boots.
“Well?” she asked.
Chris watched her turn around and all of the sudden, spanking her seemed like a good idea. Anything for that matter that would let him touch her ass and the rest of her seemed like a good idea. He did nothing, only smiled in approval.
Angela had thoughts of her own. She knew why she had butterflies even before she left her room. She thought about seducing Chris tonight as she remembered their past encounters, and she definitely wanted to continue exploring more with Christian
She came out of her room and looked at him.
“Are you really going to go like that?”
“Sure, why not? I don’t have any clothes here or back at the hotel, and I haven’t begun packing my things for the move just yet.”

Angela’s jaw dropped, “The move? Wait a minute, what’s this?”
“Oh,” he said, smiling as he put his hand on the back of his head, “I’ve been meaning to tell you about that, but let’s go now. We’ll talk over drinks.”
“I wanna know now!” She put her hands on her hips and saw the way it affected him by the bulge in his pants.
“Keep torturing me like that, and my surprise will have to wait longer.”
“That’s no fair,” she pouted.
“Come on. Let’s go,” he stood and took her hand in his. “We’ll take my car.”
“Okay, fine.” She stuck her tongue out at him and let him walk her out.
* * * *
The bouncer stamped their hands and Chris led Angela inside, paid their cover and headed to the right, where the bartender took drink orders. There was another set of doors that led to the patio. Chris sat at the corner closest to the doors. Ventilation was good with all the smokers coming and going. Plus, it’d get hot in the club soon. The cold chill from outside would give him an excuse to stay very close to Angela. She’d need to be warmed up, right? And not with the help of any of the freaks at the Lizard Lounge. The club was usually packed on Saturday nights with all of the technophiles, most of which worked on the lower rungs of the IT ladder.
Loud music thumped out of the speakers while bright patterns of colour flashed on the several TV screens as Angela sat next to Chris and sipped her vodka drink.
Chris looked at all the freaks in black, half-dressed or not. Some of the women had more makeup on than he’d seen ever. Some of the guys did, too. For that matter, some of the guys in drag looked better than some of the women did. But Chris kept his eyes on Angela. He’d seen the scene here before, over the years. Nothing had changed. The same Marilyn-Manson-T-shirt-wearing-sad-and-depressed teenagers came through the doors to dance and listen to artsy music. Chris thought he’d outgrown all that.
He chuckled. Hell, he had been wearing a dress the first night he met Angela, eight years ago.

Chris took his drink and paid the bartender. He took a long sip, felt the alcohol burn his throat with warmth. He needed to unwind with Angela. She’d had him hard all evening and the fact that she didn’t complain when he first cupped her ass had him anticipating something tonight.
Still, he came to this club because of Angela. The music wasn’t his style anymore. The old friends Chris hoped to run into gone, out of state, married or with new careers. Chris was only here because he didn’t know Dallas well enough to take her somewhere different.
She grabbed his hand and tried to tug him onto the dance floor, but he wouldn’t move.
“Please,” she begged.
He couldn’t resist her eyes. “Later, I promise.”
“You’d better.” She grinned.
Chris prodded her on while he sat leaning against the couch in the corner and jealously watched other men attempting to dance with her. She shunned them, and they walked outside in disgust. Angela glanced over at Chris. He was chuckling.
She smiled and returned to dancing. Angela moved her body gracefully.
Chris knew he was putty in her hands. He’d told her earlier that he’d outgrown dancing, but finally, she’d won out. He joined her on the dance floor, gyrating his hips in perfect rhythm with hers, and both became aroused. At the beat changed, Angela smirked, becoming aware of how much she’d affected him as she clung to his hardening body.
The beat changed again. Chris watched Angela head towards the bar and come back with two drinks. He’d moved to a private booth in the back where it was less crowded.
She sat down beside him, where he’d patted a space for her and took his drink from her. Both watched the convoluted dance floor until Angela looked at his watch.
“One more drink?” she asked.
“Sure.” Chris handed her money, and she brought back two more drinks. He held her hand as she laid her head on his shoulder.
He ran his fingers through her silky smooth hair, twirling the ends around his fingers. Even though she smelled of smoke and cheap cigarettes, he could still smell her intoxicating scent.

Christian licked his lips, adjusted the way he sat. His cock throbbed in his trousers. He looked down at her. “Do you want to leave? I’m hungry.” He nearly had to yell to hear himself over the music.
She nodded. He took her by the waist and helped her outside. He wondered when the last time she went dancing was, and who it had been with. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Christian cared for.
* * * *
Once they stepped outside, she took a deep breath, glad for the fresh air, but her thoughts were still muddled. Seduce her best friend, or remain loyal to her somewhat convenient boyfriend? She’d let Chris make the first move. It’d be easier to follow his lead right now, since she had a nice buzz.
Chris kept caressing her back and shoulders with his hand, making her aware of the electricity that flowed between them. She let his hand slide over her rear. Of course, he didn’t say anything about it as she got in the SUV and he pulled out of the parking lot onto the road. She put her hand in his and felt him stroke her palm. Little beads of electricity raced down her spine and towards her sex. Damned intimacy!
“What sounds good to you?” He finally broke the silence.
She set a hand against her forehead. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t feel all that great.”
“You drank too much, didn’t you, Angela?” He snorted.
“Probably. Mike brought over a crappy sub sandwich that I had half of. But my stomach is upset.”
“Are you going to be sick?” One hand continued tracing patterns down her spine, over her shoulders and the curve of her ass when she leaned forward and adjusted her clothing.
Angela backed her ass into his hand, hoping he’d cup her and make a move. Even though she felt sick, she realised that her mind was free of inhibition just enough to get what her body desperately wanted. “No, I just need to get some food then go to bed. I have stuff at the apartment.” The minor headache in the morning didn’t compare to the pain in her stomach. Or the butterflies.
“Good idea. I’ll drop you off and—”

She shot him a dirty glance. “Drop me off? Chris, please stay with me.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me, princess. Okay, I’ll stay the night.”
Angela leaned her head back against the soft headrest and took his hand in hers. Warmth spread throughout her body but only added to the melting heat between her legs.
Angela took a deep breath and released it slowly, feeling better only because she was with Christian. “You know I’m no longer self-destructive, right?”
He laughed. “You never were. You were just stupid. Now you’re older.”
“Thanks,” she chuckled. She’d definitely have to resolve the lustful feelings soon, or she’d explode.

Chapter Three
Chris filled a glass of water and handed it to Angela with some toast. “Drink this before you lay down.”
You’re going to do a hell of a lot more than lay me down, pal. She took the glass and sipped it slowly. So much for letting him make the first move. Her mind had already decided that her body would control her.
Chris still held onto her waist and stroked her back.
She sipped the water, set it down on the table and pushed Chris onto the couch, sitting herself beside him. “You’ve had your hands on my ass all night, Christian.”
“Babe, the look and feel of your tight bottom beneath that fake leather skirt has toyed with my senses and kept me hard practically the entire evening.”
She’d been watching him and knew he spoke the truth. Judging by the look on his face, Angela knew it wouldn’t take much for Christian to make a move. All she’d have to do was nudge him.
Angela uncrossed her legs and twirled a finger around Chris’ chest and over his lips. She straddled his thighs, though the skirt dug into her flesh and caused discomfort until he undid the snap in the back.
“This could come off,” he whispered.
“Done.” She slid off his legs and stepped back. Her anxiety disappeared with her shirt and skirt as they fell to the floor. She stood in front of him in matching bra and panties. Angela shuddered at the touch of his fingers over their hem.
She stepped closer for a kiss, tasting the gin he’d been sipping all night then darted her tongue between his lips and caught his playful laughter. She unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and ran her fingernail over his hard chest before biting his lower lip. Angela felt the rush of hormones when he cupped her ass and finally slid his fingers beneath the waist of her panties.
“You’re still mostly dressed,” she whispered.
“And I want to quickly remedy that.” He nipped her neck.

Angela straddled his knees and threw back her head.
He nipped her neck again.
She arched her body into his, pressed her mouth to his ear. “Good god, Christian, get this shirt off.” She reached for the bottom of his shirt and tugged it from his trousers then over his head, exposing his muscular figure. To her surprise, his chiselled figure had seen more sun. She ran her fingers over his chest and flat stomach before getting to his slacks.
He smiled when she cupped his erection through his pants and gave him a squeeze. “You’re still covered on top.”
“All right.” She steadied herself on his knees and unhooked her bra. The clothes fell to the floor and exposed her round breasts, nipples tightly peaked. She wrapped her arms around his neck and scooted closer to him, crushing her breasts to his chest before sealing her mouth over his in a kiss that warmed up both of them.
She looked greedily at Chris. He was holding out, despite his rock-hard erection. Angela slid her hand down into his pants and gripped him, feeling the silky steel flesh. She gave him a squeeze.
He moaned softly into her ear, sending vibrations humming along her skin that resonated all the way down to her pussy.
“I need this, Chris.” She squeezed him a little tighter, moved her hand up and down his shaft.
His groans became louder.
Thrilled from taking control, Angela pushed back against him and tried to make him lay against the couch, but he stopped her.
“Christian, what are you doing?”
She was pulled to her feet quickly and scooped up in Chris’ arms as he carried her, laughing, back to her bedroom.
“I’m about to remedy our problem.” Chris set Angela down on the bed gently. “Patience,” he stretched her legs out and slid off her panties, revealing her soft curls. He probed with a light touch before he parted her folds, blanketed his body over her thighs and lowered his lips to her pussy. Chris smoothed both hands over her hips and dipped his tongue into the forest of curls. She was tangy-sweet.

She shuddered beneath him when he flicked his tongue over her swollen bead.
He massaged her buttocks and thrust his tongue deep inside her, inhaling her aroma. “God, you taste good,” he muttered.
She gripped his shoulders and clenched her legs around his body as one orgasm tore through her.
Chris continued licking her clit. He trailed his tongue from the top of her sex to the bottom. Then from side to side in a wide sweeping motion that had her nails digging into his shoulders.
She looked down at him with hunger in her eyes.
He slid his tongue over the entrance of her ass, passing over quickly to excite her further. His cock bobbed between his legs, poised and ready for her.
Chris slid both hands back over her hips and grabbed her breasts. He squeezed her pink nipples slowly.
Angela took his hands and tugged him upwards. “I can’t stand any more of this, Christian. I want you inside.” She pulled harder.
Chris slithered up her body, and she grabbed his throbbing cock. “This needs to be—”
“I know,” Chris reached over into her nightstand and fumbled around until he found a foil packet.
He sheathed himself and took his cock in hand. Settling between her thighs, he set himself at her entrance, felt just how incredibly moist, how hot she was…all for him.
Thrusting deep inside, he impaled her.
Angela gasped, shoving her breasts upwards, her hips further against his.
His sleek movements brought her over the edge until he stopped thrusting completely, settling himself inside her heat.
Angela wrapped her legs around Chris’ waist and lunged against him, the sound of skin slapping against skin heightening her arousal. “That’s my baby,” was all she could muster in a husky voice.
He picked up his pace, and their rhythm quickly became a fury of thrusting and slapping mixed with grunts and pants.
“Come for me, Christian.” She threw her head back, grabbed her own breasts.

He cupped her hands, squeezed and pinched her nipples while thrusting harder inside her.
Chris’ release calmed him when he finally opened his eyes. He looked at Angela, moved the curls from her sweat-covered forehead and kissed her. The smile on her face lit the room.
“I love you,” he whispered, thinking she didn’t hear him. He rolled off, and she curled up against him. She closed her eyes.
“I love you too,” she said. Her confusion was gone for now. She’d deal with that in the morning.
* * * *
Did I just commit adultery? What a ridiculous question, Angela thought when she looked at herself in the mirror. It was eight a.m. Christian had been gone for at least an hour, and she knew roughly when he’d left. His pager had gone off, waking him. He was on his cell phone and gone before she’d known it.

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Published in: on July 12, 2012 at 1:31 am  Comments (3)  
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3 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Thank you for this sentence, “(Not Christian Grey, that fucktard poseur)”. Made my day :)

  2. I liked that line too! Love that excerpt.


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