Sex. The title alone had you clicking over here as fast as you could. Lets face it. Sex sells.
I had a brief twitter conversation with my writer friend, Lani Wendt Young a few days ago. Lani recently released the first book in what has become my favorite new series. The book is called Telesa: The Covenant Keeper. For those of you MANday followers, she also wrote one of the hottest MANdays ever on Somoan Rugby Players and their tattoos.
So the question was, How much sex is too much sex? How should we handle sex in our books? Both Lani and I write crossover fiction. Our characters are young adults, so the books will fall into the young adult categories, but are being read by adults too.
My book, That Boy, follows a character from 4th grade to age 22. I kept the book pretty clean from a sex standpoint. I didn’t really do it on purpose, it just fit the character. She didn’t lose her virginity until freshman year of college (not that she didn’t try!) and sex really isn’t part of the story until the very end when she finally falls hard for the boy she should have been with all along. Plus, she would DIE before she told hard core details about her sex life. She loves sex. She likes to giggle with her friends about sex, but she’d never give out down and dirty details.
The sequel, That Wedding, has to be different. Jadyn is now 22. She’s engaged and getting married. Sex is pretty much her life. It doesn’t help that I’m in love with Phillip. My dirty little mind could wander for days thinking about all I’d like Phillip to do to me. I could even go into great detail about that. But I don’t. It doesn’t fit the character.
I’m also working on a new book series. The main character is 17. She’s sexually active and there are some scenes in the first book where I feel like I’m pushing the edge a little. I thought for fun, I’d share a little scene from this new book. It’s not edited and still a bit rough, but you’ll get the idea. The girl, Keatyn, is at a boarding school. She meets a guy and sleeps with him way too fast. Like they have known each other for two weeks. She’s not a virgin, but the boy that she had lost her virginity to, and who she thought was the love of her life, broke her heart. She’s still reeling from that.
He tells everyone we’re tired and drags me into the house.
Then I think his hormones kicked into overdrive or something.
He’s kissing me, like fast, hard, long kisses. He pushes me up against the counter in the kitchen, then against the wall in the hall. We finally get to the bedroom, where he quickly shuts and locks the door, then pushes me up against it, kissing me, like ravaging me. I say ravaging because I have snuck quite a few of my mom’s Harlequin Romances, and this is the kind of thing I have always pictured.
Always dreamed of.
A boy that wants me so bad, he can barely stand it.
It wasn’t like this with Brooklyn. It was some intense kissing and then a brief, It’s about time we did this, and then up to his room. It was fun and sweet, not this barrage of kisses.
We start frantically undressing each other, kissing, hugging, breathing.
At this point, I think my hormones kicked in too, and honestly I’m thinking, Just do me, keep going, don’t stop. I’ve never felt such desire in my life. But just when I’m ready to speed things up, he decides to slow them down.
He’s wearing nothing but boxers and all that is protecting my virtue is a skimpy lace thong.
He kisses me. My shoulder, my chest, my stomach, and then slowly strips away what little clothing is left on me.
I can’t even tell you how hot I am.
After he slowly slides off my thong, he’s back to a full scale assault on my body.
He’s kissing, touching, rubbing, licking, well, everything.
And it feels very, very good.
I feel like he’s standing outside my front door, knocking on it. No, make that ringing the door bell, repeatedly, and I want to invite him in. I really want to. My body is definitely in agreement with me on this. My body has been pleading it’s case, begging, saying, Please, please, can he please come in and play, be our our friend, make us feel incredible? But my brain is arguing back, saying, You have only know this boy for a little over a week. It took you three years and all summer to let Brooklyn in and now you want to let this virtual stranger in??? Shouldn’t you be in love with him? What if you get pregnant? What if he’s just using you? What if this ruins everything? Then my body yells at my brain and says, Shut up!!!! Seriously, shut up!!! I don’t freaking care if he’s using us, I want him NOW!! Freaking right now!!!
My body wins this round. My brain shuts up for a bit and lets us feel. Feel the electricity running between us, causing every nerve ending I have to practically fizzle and spark. He moves between my legs and, ohhhh, what he’s doing is feeling pretty amazing, and pretty soon I’m trembling and breathing hard with pleasure. And I really don’t think I can take much more. My body screams, OMFFFFFGGGG!!!!! LET THIS BOY IN, NOW!!!!!
I say breathlessly, “Dawson….”
He stops and looks at me, tilts his head at me in question.
I just give my head a little nod. A barely perceptible teeny little yes nod.
And invite him in.
I’d like to know how you feel about sex in the romance books that you read. What do you like? What is too much? I think I write the way I like to read. My preference is to hear about what leads up to the sex. The romantic hot part and then cut away and let my imagination work the rest. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this, so please comment. Do you like to hear about emotions, feelings, the way he touches you? Or do you prefer to read about throbbing body parts and moaning?