Erotica is Not Eww!

 By Margie Church

I admit, when I first began writing romances, I was in love with purple prose. When I was working with my co-author on Razor, we read to each other. I thought I was going to die a couple times—both listening and reading to him. And then we'd burst out laughing because we caught ourselves avoiding "those words" as we talked about upcoming scenes. I'm a pretty private person and unless we're talking shop—as in the craft of writing—you're not likely to hear me using graphic language in a conversation. Well, maybe after a couple shots of Irish whiskey, one or two might slip out.

 It took some practice to become comfortable with using graphic language in my manuscripts and some words I rarely use because they make me wince. They throw me out of the story and for me, that's not a good thing for a reader to experience.

But I'd rather use the word cock than the phrase steel love meat. My apologies to those who use molten-hot love canal and moist nether regions.

After you've recovered from choking on your beverage, you kind of get my point. Sometimes a one-word adjective or noun is more erotic than some goofy sidestep around the real word.

The more experienced we get in our craft, the better able we are to convey some of these words and phrases in a way that entices or flat out makes you throb. Erotica is supposed to do that. Skilled use of dialog and setting can make even the C word make you suck your breath through your teeth, close your eyes, and think about saying that sentence to your lover the next time the opportunity arises.

So, I write erotic romance and some of it has reached bestseller status – like Night Music, my new erotic ménage for The Edge Series. Although this is a short story and The Edge Series has some wiggle room to break out of traditional romance guidelines, this is still a very romantic story. And it packs plenty of heat. From the sexy Aussie kiss on the dock through the sexual encounter of a lifetime, you might be thinking a vacation in the Blue Ridge Mountains is something you want to book soon.

NightMusic by Margie Church

A quiet, lakeside vacation is just what Brielle needs to decompress after her busy concert season. She expects the weeks to pass uneventfully. Until she meets the men next door.

Tyler and Zeke are as adventurous and sexy as the Harleys they ride. The passion they hear in Brielle's music draws them to her.

Convinced the hunks are gay, Brielle lets down her inhibitions. That turns out to be the best decision she's made in a long time.

Excerpt: Night Music by Margie Church

Brielle had stopped at the local market to get enough supplies for a few days. She had no intention of going to town unless there was a darn good reason. After her clothing and other belongings were unpacked, she opened a bottle of wine—one of several she’d bought—and contemplated the glorious evening sun.

The rumble of motorcycles disrupted her musings. She craned her neck to see who the offenders were.

Two men on leather-bedecked hogs cruised down the neighboring driveway. She watched from the seclusion of her covered porch as they got off and parked their bikes. Leather chaps covered their jeans. Boots and black leather vests made them look badass. She waited for them to remove their helmets and reveal more of their features.

She wasn’t disappointed.

One of the broad-shouldered men had flaxen hair. The second man ran his hands through his dark hair that reached his shoulders. Even from a distance, she could tell they were in good physical shape, and probably in their late twenties. A twinge of naughtiness plucked her libido. Her vacation was already looking up.

The bike-riding neighbors unpacked their saddlebags and carried their gear into their cabin. The door shut softly behind them and returned the peace and quiet they’d interrupted.

Brielle watched the sun dip lower, streaking the sky with brilliant red, orange, and yellow against the clear blue backdrop. The deep sounds of a motoryacht’s engines mixed with the haunting sounds from the loons.

Inspired, she refilled her wineglass, and then brought her cello to the three-season porch. She moved her bow across the taut strings, warming up, wondering what she should play. She sipped her wine while searching through her extensive music collection. Her hand rested on Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. Did she dare? Could she play with even half the passion Mei Ju had the other day?

Closing her eyes, Brielle focused on the sounds and sight of Mr. Ju on stage.

Will that ever be me?

She drew her bow back and forth on the strings to play the fiery interludes and soulful chords. Brielle imagined herself in front of the orchestra, the way Ju had been, and did her best to do justice to the piece he’d played so brilliantly.

As she played the last, low note, she noticed the two men standing on their porch, watching her. Heat flared in her cheeks, whether from the exertion of playing or the embarrassment of their witness, she didn’t know.

One man began clapping.

Not expecting that reaction, she chuckled.

“Play something else,” said the man with the long hair.

Thinking they were making fun of her, she closed her music and stood. “Funny guy.”

“No, really, play some more.”

She contemplated the request for a moment. “You’re not going to call the cops?”

The blond one laughed. “Oh, hell no. Come on. Play something hot and sexy.”

Bolstered by their enthusiasm, she wondered what she could play that might fit the bill. “Just a minute.” A number of titles ran through her mind and she dismissed them all. Ah, the perfect one.

Buy Night Music at Decadent: http://www.decadentpublishing.com/product_info.php?products_id=597&osCsid=es36gda5ov6adolmon735ekvp4

Learn more about Margie at her website: www.RomanceWithSASS.com 

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