Wicked Wednesday Takes a Wicked Left Turn

Posted by Meesh in Uncategorized | 5 comments

We are out of Wicked Wednesdays authors, so all y’all lucky people get to read another rambling by me. If you would prefer to keep Wicked Wednesdays truly wicked, and not filled with my silliness, we have a sign up form for authors to get on board. So if you want to write a one shot and be our Wicked Wednesdays feature, go to the Wicked Wednesdays sign up form and put your name in the metaphorical hat. C’mon! You know you want to write some lemons and be interviewed by one of the fan fic people at MVF.

Now, on with the show. This is my first Wicked Wednesdays post, and while I don’t have an author I’ve interviewed or a one shot to feature and talk about, I still have the very fun task of writing something naughty. I like naughty. I read a lot of wicked vampire and paranormal fiction, and I really love to talk about it.

I recall my high school years and reading every Harlequin romance I could get into my (sickeningly) romantic little hands. Back then, they weren’t so dirty and the formula went as such. The woman thinks she is strong and independent. She has a really rough event occur in her life so she goes out west to a ranch to get away and clear her head. She gets to Wyoming and finds that Mr. Perfect-but-Aloof owns the ranch next door. They meet and immediately hate each other. He’s a jerk. She’s a cold shrew. Except, his eyes twinkle in the most enticing way, and she does have really cute dimples and a smile that could melt snow. They fight and make up, then fight and make up. They find a million excuses why they aren’t right for each other, except … And then they fall in love and he sweeps her off her feet and they live happily ever after. The most heat I saw was a few steamy kisses.

I spent the next 20 years or so of my life reading absolutely no romance at all. I was so tired of the formula, the same dramas over and over. It was all so boring and predictable. So I stuck with the horror novels I love so much, and non-fiction, lots of books that were without love stories. I didn’t know that such a dramatic transformation was going on in the world of romance novels. If you had asked me 3 years ago if I would read a romance novel, I’d have laughed at you.

Cue 2008. I’m 40 years old and just fell in love with Twilight. I meet some awesome women on Chatzy and someone asks me if I’ve ever read the Black Dagger Brotherhood (oh, Jess, how I love your face for opening my eyes to the brothers!). I bought the entire series, six books at the time, and I read them in 5 days. From the moment I started with Dark Lover and met Wrath and Beth, I was hooked. But imagine my surprise when I read the first sex scene. I had no idea at all that romance novels had gone so blue. I was reading the scene before the one where Beth gives Wrath a special present with her mouth and I was visibly wincing. My daughter asked me what was wrong and I told her to come read with me. She stood behind me while we read along. We got to the same sentence at the same time, when Beth put Wrath’s penis in her mouth, and she jumped away from me and I threw the book down. Oh. My. Gods. I felt like a voyeur. The sex scenes in that book are hot, but more than that, JR Ward writes them in a way that made me feel as if I stumbled upon a very intimate scene and that I shouldn’t be watching, except I must. It is not sex for the sake of sex, even though there is a lot of it. The sex is just such a natural part of the flow of the books that it felt to me as if I was peeping in someone’s window.

Since that night, I refer to my new addiction as soft core vamp porn. My daughter thinks it’s hard core porn, but I just pat her on the head and tell her she’d know hard core when she saw it. I got back on Chatzy and voiced my surprise at the sex scenes and Jess laughed at me. She didn’t realize I hadn’t ever read adult romance like these.

In the year and a half since that fateful week when I first got my hands on the Black Dagger Brotherhood, I have been immersed in naughty goodness. I have run through Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, and the Merry Gentry Series by Laurell K. Hamilton with a fervor. I read the Dark Hunters by Sherilyn Kenyon, Lords of the Underworld by Gena Showalter, the Fever Series and the the Highlander series by Karen Marie Moning. I estimate that since August of 2008, I have read at least 50 or 60 adult paranormal romance novels of one type or another, and I’ve read most of them over and over, and that doesn’t count the fan fics I’ve read. I am telling you, I am more than enamored.

I have often said that my husband owes these authors some serious thank you notes because he has gotten a lot of loving thanks to the effect these books have on me. He complains a lot about how much I read, about how many books there are hanging around the house (so many he bought me a Kindle), about how I “ignore” him and sit on the couch with a book in my hand for hours and hours. I read two books the day after Christmas – Born of Fire and Born of Ice – Sherilyn Kenyon’s series. I don’t think I moved off the couch except to pee. But while I’m reading, he is doing his own thing and I have to remind him that before I found this love, he still was doing his own thing. It’s just the thing I’m doing that has changed. And now after I’m done doing my thing, he and I get to do our thing and wow, do those books make me want to do our thing. He should be happy as a clam that he reaps the benefits of someone else’s work. Much as I thank the Victoria’s Secret show for the bounty I get once a year due to the hotties parading in skimpy outfits. Who cares where he gets his erection as long as it isn’t used anywhere but home, right?

These characters are fantasies and can’t ever do the job. Yes, they are perfect lovers who allow their women to orgasm again and again before they even consider taking their own pleasure. Yes, they have no physical flaws. Yes, they have enormous dicks (that’s not his arm, right Jules?). The feelings they elicit are real, but the men aren’t. The writers create a perfect fantasy world for us to get lost in, with gorgeous men who never tire in bed, after whom I never have to clean up, who never mouth off to me or tell me they worked too hard to pay any attention to me. But when I put the book down, I am thrilled to death to be able to roll over and have my very real man there to take care of my very real needs these wicked dirty books cause. What more could any woman ask for?

PS- Just a few notes. My daughter is 24, a grown up, so know that I don’t share porn stories with my underage kids. Also, my love of the brothers runs deep enough that I have seriously considered having Rhage’s name tattooed down my ribs. And lastly, I am not the least bit ashamed of my adoration of these books. I spend enough of my life in a harsh real world. A little escape is a very good thing.

Don’t forget to sign up to be a Wicked Wednesdays author so you never have to read me ramble on about sex again. :) How’s that for motivation?

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