HOT OR COLD? Phew! It Can Be So Confusing!

 

When it comes to sensuality ratings in books, the hot or cold designations have always confused me.

 I’ve read wonderfully sensual passages where the couple reached the bedroom door and then..well, the rest was left to the readers’ (often very fertile) imaginations.

And I’ve read scenes where the writer has tried so hard to be outrageously hot that the love scene reads more like a sex ed manual.

And then there’s the totally I’ll-write-erotic-or-die scenes where I’ve wound up giggling in amazement and thinking, gee, that would be physically impossible unless you were eight feet tall and built like an Orangutan.

And who but another Orangutan would find that kind of sexy description hot?

Yep, in my humble opinion, writing really hot and sexy scenes that make the reader all hot and bothered is an art form and is done well only by really exceptional writers who have a knack for it. These scenes are usually highly emotionally charged as well as very physically hot.

I write romantic suspense, so the sexy hot and the murderously hot have to balance. It's also a mistake to try to forcer oneself to write hot - at least, it never works for me. Possibly because when I get to a certain point where it’s obvious I’m trying too hard to get  erotic - I’ll read it to my DH and we both fall about laughing.

My books usually have a couple of sensual scenes in them, but also a lot of banter between the hero and heroine which is both funny and sexy. I’ve been amazed when a couple of reviewers have described my heroines as bitchy, when they’ve actually been showing irritation or standing up for themselves with an Alpha male who’d swamp them if they didn’t. I wonder if these reviewers think women should always be meek and submissive and hide their true feelings?

Still, I’ve always considered my books to be in the ‘mild’ rather than ‘hot’ category, and I’ve often wondered if I should make them hotter. I’ve been surprised when publishers have put them in the ‘sensual’ category. And even more so with reader response. Here’s a few of the reader comments I’ve got:

“Phew – that book is sooooo hot!” Reader fanning herself with said book.

“Gee, I didn’t know sex could be like that!” Uhmmm, wistful reader….

“I marked the sexy parts in yellow highlighter to read to my partner.” What could I say to that?

"Hey, if you ever want help with the research, you know where to find me." Yeah, and I know where to find your wife, as well.

And the all-time most embarrassing of all? “I just loved the sex in that book. Do you think your husband would give mine some tips?” Okay, my poor DH is still squirming from that one, spoken loudly at a party.

Going sort of off-topic: when I was a kid, I used to watch old war movies with my dad. (Yes, I was a Daddy’s Girl). One of them involved a battleship slowly sinking in the freezing cold Atlantic. The Captain talks to the crew about abandoning ship. “We can either wait and hope we get rescued before she blows up, or we can take to the life boats. Would you rather freeze or fry?”

Freeze or fry. Be cool or hot. It’s a question I’ve wrestled with ever since.

Maybe I’ll solve it in the next book.

I'd love to hear comments about how other people feel on the hot/cool/cold issue! To get an idea of how I'm coping with the 'heat', click here to read the first chapters of  some of my books. :-)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cold I got, but... Where is the HOT?

by Jena Galifany

Winter this year has been something else. In the east, it has been horrible from what I've seen in the news. I'm in the west, in the high desert. It's been cold, but not like back east. I feel so sorry for those that are in it.

I should feel guilty that I complain all year round that I'm cold. Winter is cold, in the 40s and 50s which is nothing compared to what some of my on-line friends endure. We have summer weather around 100 to 110, so when it gets to the 50s, I'm freezing.

Our summer can last from May until well into November (I once went water skiing on New Years Day) so when winter gets here, I'm cold. I'm also cold all summer. I know it sounds silly but I have 3 blankets on my bed all summer and another couple on top of that in the winter. My husband works as an auto mechanic. He is outside all day in that 100 to 110 degree heat. When he gets home, he wants it cold in the house. Once it gets down to 65, I'm cold. I wear a jacket in the house all summer.

I live in a brick house that was built by my husband's grandfather when Steve's mother was 12 years old. Steve was born into this house and has lived here most of his life. Grandfather had A.D.D. and did some rather creative things when he built the place. I was told that he never completely pounded in any one of the nails in the place. Someone had to go along behind him and finish the job. Anyway, there is no insulation in a brick house other than the thickness of the paint on the walls. I can now appreciate tapestries mentioned hanging in castles of old. I don't have any but I can appreciate them.

Don't get me wrong. I love my husband, the Ice King. He screams like a little girl when I put my frozed hands under his shirt and touch his sides. I love my house and the 2.5 acres of land that came with it. I love where I live. But I'd really love to be warm at least one month out of the year. Is that too much to ask?
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A snow storm brought Ty Synclair and Alexis Rivers together. Spending time working with the men of ShadowsForge are one of the few ways I can get warm.

Alexis Rivers

Ty Synclair

ShadowsForge 1: Three Times a Hero

Bass player Ty Synclair is discontented with the women that come through his life who love him for his money, image, and fame.  He believes there has to be one woman, somewhere, who will love him for who he is, not the package sold to the public.

Alexis Rivers is finished with her abusive boyfriend and finished with love altogether.  She wants a man who would simply love and appreciate her.  Since he doesn't seem to exist, she wants to remain alone for the rest of her life.  The problem is her heart doesn’t agree with her decision, a decision that crumbles fast after literally running into Ty Synclair in the middle of a blizzard.

Can two cold hearts spark a fire, when they collide on a snowy mountain road and spend three days alone together in a snowbound cabin?

____________________________

Excerpt:

Ty jogged through two hundred feet of calf-deep snow at the side of the road, to where tracks went over the side. The Nova had continued its uncontrolled slide off the road, dropped about fifteen feet, and slammed dead center into a fair sized pine tree. The front end hugged the tree, keeping the vehicle from falling into the gorge. It was on a greater incline than the Honda with only one lone pine to hold the much heavier vehicle. Ty couldn't see anyone moving or trying to get out. Not a good sign.

Ty lowered himself carefully down the hillside to the driver’s door and found a dazed young woman behind the wheel. Blood trickled down the side of her face from a cut across her forehead. Her lap belt was snug around her heavy lavender coat. She was looking around, quite confused.

“Bloody hell,” Ty exclaimed, at the sight that met his eyes.

With the fender pushed back over the seam of the door, it took several tries to get the door opened. Ty wedged his boot against the edge of the fender, gripped the door handle, and pushed as hard as he could. The metal screeched in protest before it crumpled out of the way. Ty was thankful that he found the strength, thinking it had all drained from him in tonight's performance.

He searched through her car, trying to locate something to press to her bleeding forehead. Seeing nothing, he unbuttoned the bottom of his jacket long enough to rip the tail from his yellow shirt.

With the door open and the windshield broken, the warmth from the interior was quickly escaping. Ty unbuckled her lap belt and gently moved her over. He slid in beside her, pulling the door closed to preserve what heat he could. She proved to be very light as he settled her, getting her to lean her head back. He carefully brushed a few strands of blue-black hair from her delicate face and pressed the cotton material against the cut, trying his best to remember what to do for a head injury. Her eyes searched the ceiling of the car, wandering aimlessly.

“Do I look like a bleedin’ Boy Scout?” Ty spoke to himself, attempting to calm the anxiety that was creeping up, trying to overwhelm him. “They’re always prepared. I’m not. Come on, Synclair, stay calm.” He moved closer to her. “Miss?”

Ty hoped to bring her back to coherence long enough to find out who she was or where she was coming from. Hopefully she didn’t live too far away. If he could get his car up on the road, he could at least get her some help. Or walk there if it wasn’t too far.

The mobile phone.

Duh.

He quickly searched his jacket pockets with one hand. Gone. Must have fallen out when he hit the trees. Have to check when I get the bleeding stopped. He pressed firmly against the material held to her brow.

A moan escaped her lips, startling Ty from his thoughts. He shook back his thick hair, placing his mouth close to her ear. “Miss?”

"Oh, Lord.” She turned toward him. “You’re up already?”

The girl stared at him with deep, brown eyes. But in those dark pools, Ty saw something he didn’t like.

Terror.

She gave a startled cry, sliding from his touch, pushing his hand away as she grabbed the handle of the passenger door, tugging franticly. Her knit gloves would not allow her to get a good grip on the handle, her hands slipping continually from the metal lever.

“Calm down, lady.” He tried to hold her, fearing she would hurt herself further as she pulled with futility at the door handle.

“Don’t hurt me, Les.” She screamed in breathless terror, using the last of her strength to pound her fist on the glass. Panic quickly overcame her. She slipped from consciousness.

Ty heard a crunching sound. The car lurched to the side, swinging around the tree about a foot before it stopped. It was obvious that the car had no intention of staying where it was for very long.

Ty caught the girl as she slumped against the door, leaning her against his chest. He had to get her out of the car before it decided to give in to gravity. Ty grabbed her bag from the floor, placing it on her lap. Carefully, he pushed himself backward to the door, gently pulling the girl along by her coat. He tried to move as smoothly as he could, not wanting to make any jarring moves that might set the vehicle into motion.

Pretty daft of me to climb in here in the first place.

Her struggle had apparently upset the balance of the vehicle and he had no intention of making it worse. He reached behind his back, pushing the door open as slowly as he could while holding on to her.

With the angle of the car, it was difficult to push the door open. After several tries, he turned, giving it a shove. When he did, the door sprung all the way open. He jammed his boot against it to keep the door from rebounding closed again. He cursed as the car shifted again, another foot toward the gorge.

Ty held his breath until he felt the car stabilize. He slid out of the Nova, planting his boots as firmly on the snowy hillside as he could. Now that he was standing, he dragged the girl across the seat. He grabbed her bag and threw it behind him while holding on to her collar. Once he was sure of his footing, he tugged gently on her jacket, sliding her slowly out. She was dead weight and he didn’t know what injuries she might have, so he feared moving her too quickly.

He had her upper body clear of the car when there was a creaking sound and the snow beneath the tires crunched in protest as the heavy vehicle began to slide in earnest. Ty wrapped his arms under hers, leaning uphill away from the car, digging his heels in as he tried to pull her clear.

Her booted foot caught on the steering wheel as the Nova gave in to gravity.
____________________________

ShadowsForge 1: Three Times a Hero

http://whiskeycreekpress.com/authors/Jena_Galifany.shtml
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Cheers!
Jena

8 Things That Should Always Be Hot

1.     Tea – I’ve been hung up on peppermint tea this winter and simply must have it piping hot. Like, scorch-your-throat hot.

2.      Chicken soup – Soup is of no use unless you can hover over it and completely steam your face in the wafting vapors. My grandmother would not be pleased if I served her recipe in a lukewarm or—God forbid—cold fashion.

3.      The fireplace – Nothing says cozy like a roaring fire on a frosty winter night. Where I live, there have been a multitude of these this winter. I’ve spent many hours warming myself by both gas and wood stoves, and I love them both equally.

4.      Sunshine – I always find it interesting that even in the middle of winter, I can sit in a sunny spot near a window and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. The sun doesn’t let you down in terms of hot. The air, on the other hand, can be brutal.

5.      UPS delivery guys – I don’t know if it’s just my neighborhood or what, but these guys in brown are always attractive. Many of them are bearded (sigh) and when they are hauling boxes around, they are just plain sexy.

6.      Tropical islands – It’s nice to know that while I’m freezing my bottom off in the north, somewhere near the equator the temperatures are hot and palm trees sway in a balmy breeze. I can imagine I’m on a beach blanket and escape for a little while.

7.      Cookies straight from the oven – I don’t think this one needs explaining. All it needs is milk.

8.      Romance novels – I read these because they are hot. I write these because they are hot.

What would you add to this list?

 

For some hot fun, try my book Firefly Mountain. It’s got a hot firefighter, a hot photographer, several really hot secrets, and an arsonist bent on making a hot mess of a cozy Vermont town.

 

Toodles!

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

Suspense and Adventure Create Heat in August by Rolynn Anderson

Hot is relative.  A hot August on the Pacific Coast of British Columbia, where I am presently cruising aboard INTREPID (picture, below), is somewhere in the upper 60 degrees.  Smoking hot is a day that reaches the 70’s.  As I write this blog post, what’s really hot is the fishing up here in Ocean Falls, B.C.  It’s a ghost town, a company mill town peopled with 5,000 in the 50’s; presently six people and lots of bears call it home.   My brother, Brian, is with me and he always brings out the fisherwoman in me.  The salmon are running up the Martin River, so we’re catching those lovelies in the day (in the ocean) and smacking down salmon for dinner.  Now, salmon fight on your line…nothing hotter then playing a salmon, especially if they get the notion to head out into the deep, deep ocean.

Hot also is the halibut fishing up here at Ocean Falls.  I’ve been gathering gear and strategies for catching halibut for the last ten years and I’ve practiced by catching all sizes of flounder (which is the halibut’s family).  It seems that the stars and moon are aligned for me to catch one this year, I can feel that heat. (I'm worried about catching too large a halibut, because I'd have to 'subdue' it before I could safely bring it aboard.)  I will report next month about my success (length and poundage cited; subduing described).

We’re having an especially hot old time with dolphins and whales.  Seems like the White-side Pacific Dolphins are particularly playful this year.  When the hum of our boat catches their attention, they ride our bow (we travel 7.5 knots) with glee.  I love it when they turn sideways to look up at me standing on the bow-sprint of our boat.  I wonder what they think of the blond-haired tall woman waving madly at them and squealing when they perform acrobatics.

In the end, I guess it isn’t about temperature as much as it is about the intensity of the fun we have in our summers.  Something new and different…something to write home about.  That’s what’s hot to me.   How about you?
Follow our boat adventures  on http://steveandrolynn.blogspot.com/

You can follow our daily progress, or lack there of, at http://tinyurl.com/3mhj7gz

Check my website at http//www.rolynnanderson.com