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On Writing: Ironically, I Write Believable Sex Scenes
I’m a prolific author of women’s fiction with a bevy of beta-readers who get turned on by my books. My nine books, still awaiting publication, aren’t girl-meets-boy romances. They’re more complex, with interesting plots, diverse geographic locations, and always, a problem to solve. Some recent titles even cross over into romantic suspense. But every book contains a tasteful but fairly graphic but sex scene …
I’m a stickler for realism, sometimes drawing from life, but more often drawing from my imagination and the way I’d want to experience something intimate with someone I’m close to. But since my was-band chose another life eight long years ago, when I was fifty-four, having great sex on paper is my only outlet these days. Partly, it’s luck — partly, it’s timing.
The difficulty of dating during a global pandemic was the straw that broke the camel’s back — after four years of endlessly bad dates with a variety of men who “just weren’t that interested.” So, I’m single. I’m not a cat lady — I’m a dog lady, spending 99% of my time with my two pups, while imagining a very different life. One where I meet the man of my dreams — someone who really sees me and likes who I am — No, LOVES who I am. (Here’s a piece I wrote a few years ago. FYI, I do not look like this but I once came close, even though pink is not my color.)
