"So, you write porn?"
No, dear, I don't or your mum wouldn't read it. Actually she would read it, she just wouldn't tell you she does. Sigh. The porn/smut debacle follows erotic romance writers everywhere, usually with the air of disdain.
Look, if I did write porn, why not celebrate my liberation? There wouldn't be such upturned noses if I was a man. I'd get a slap on the back, a nudge in the ribs and a "can I get a copy?"
My femininity has much to do with the 'eww, porn' stance. Why are women prevented from owning their sexuality? Reading and writing something that will not only stimulate their mind and hearts but what goes on below the waist as well? What's so wrong with enjoying the risqué? The open bedroom door? The tingle in the nether regions? Is it because I'm not waiting for a man to teach me, my husband? Probably not the best idea considering I lose keys very easily and I don't want to be the one to call the fire brigade to cut said man out of the handcuffs I put on him.
In any case, I don't write porn. My words are not solely geared to sexual titillation. When I write, I want to share a story, a truth, a secret. Said the Demon is about empathy and the link between a person's humanity the spirit world. Playing Dead is all about a dying medium solving a 40 year old murder. If it was all sex, I'd be more bored than you and I write to entertain myself. Sex? It's just icing on a cake of horror, thriller, intrigue and above all romance. When I read, that's what I look for first - the romance. It comes well before the kiss kiss bang bang and always will. I still enjoy it. Maybe that's what really concerns people. A woman enjoying a bit of sex without any guilt. (Waits to give a damn. Could be here a while.).
Said the Demon to Little Miss Eva and Playing Dead are both in the Mocha Memoirs Anniversary sale at $2.00 each. Get to it!
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