How much reality do you want?

As I write, I've been trying to decide where to draw the line between fantasy and reality? That's something with which authors have always struggled, but writing erotic romance complicates matters even further. From the beginning to the end of a book, the author has tough decisions to make.

Let's start at the beginning.

With the first appearance of the hero, you're probably thinking: Mmmhmm, he's a hunk. And he is that way because, in our fantasies, the men are tall, muscular, intelligent, with good teeth, a great ass, and a package to die for. So that's what the author gives you.

Reality…well, let's just say that reality doesn't always live up to the fantasy. In the books I read, I definitely want the fantasy guy.

Next there is the romance itself. Face it, most people don't fall in love and commit to each other within a matter of days. But unless you want a book too heavy to lift, the time from first meeting to head-over-heels love has to be seriously compressed.

Then we get to the actual sex scene. We'll ignore how many times this hero gets it up in a night; very few people will complain about a little exaggeration there, right?

But should the guy wear a condom? Now there's a question. Having to slow down sizzling action to sheathe that extra-large erection in rubber can be frustrating for more than just the hero. Hell, just the retrieval of a little foil package can pose problems. Think about it…our hero has to find his jeans (probably kicked under the bed), dig through his pockets (is that where that drill bit went!) and return to a rapidly cooling heroine. Not very romantic. And then, after hot monkey-sex, when your couple just wants to snuggle, they have that annoying, messy piece of rubber to get rid of.

I drive my ever-patient editor insane when I have my characters using condoms. I get notes like this: "When does he put on a new condom for their second bout of love-making? He takes another one off at the end of the scene."

Have you noticed how paranormal romances authors avoid the whole condom problem by simply saying werewolves don't get human diseases? The lucky dogs.

So those are the issues an author has to solve in a standard romance. Unfortunately for me, I not only write romance, but I write kinky romance -- BDSM -- and that opens a whole new toy bag of questions.

Anal sex. Fun for some, not so much for others…but lubing up? The thought of going without can make the most hardened submissive cringe. Authors who consider condoms optional would give up their keyboards before skipping the grease. Yet others ignore that step, feeling it's too jarring.

Then there's safe, sane and consensual, the unwritten law of BDSM (and for heaven's sake, none of you better ignore it in real life any more than you'd skip using a condom). In an erotic romance where a reader want her dreams of romance and hot sex fulfilled, where does a BDSM author draw the line? Just as the timeline for a normal romance is compressed, can the evolution of trust between a Dom and his sub be accelerated?

Can some of the essential communication be skipped in favor of the wonderful dream that, yes, your Dom can read your expressions, your body, your mind. How much common sense should intrude in a fantasy of forced submission and complete domination?

It's a balancing act.

In my book, Club Shadowlands, the balance swings more toward fantasy; Master Z really can tell what Jessica wants…and needs. He has her bound and taken before the reader can draw a breath. Looking at the book from the standard of safe, sane and consensual, I worry a bit. And yet, from a sheer erotic romance standpoint, I say, oh, yeah, it works.

So, readers, tell me, do you want the fantasy or the reality? And authors, where do you draw the line?

Cherise

www.cherisesinclair.com