I debated long and hard what to write about today. And by that I mean I ate a lot of marzipan, got a headache in one side of my head, hung around in my dressing gown and watched thirteen episodes of Roseanne. Which is basically my equivalent of thinking.
And then once I was done with not being dressed and crying over the fact that Dan Connor is not a dick like every other sitcom Dad since the dawn of time, I decided I would do some talking about my favourite wonky hero.
Only then I realised: I’m supposed to talk about that somewhere else and even if I wasn’t…well…the thing is…
I don’t think there’s ever been a hero wonky enough for me. I mean sure sure, some have gotten close. I’ve got one all lined up for the little thing I’m writing on my fave wonky hero, and believe you me he’s a doozy. But as orsum as he is, he’s still missing certain things.
For example, in order to be the perfect wonky hero (to me), he has to be a submissive. Which on its own narrows the field down to about five characters – in MF fiction, at least. There’s one in a book by Joey Hill, and one in a book by Jennifer Leeland, and the start of an Emma Holly book has a totally orsum one who should definitely have had his own novel.
And that’s about it.
This is what I’m dealing with, here, in my search for the Perfect Wonky Hero. I’ve got less than five people to choose from. I’ve got, like, three people. And none of them are quite as wonky as I’d like them to be. I want them to be so wonky they can’t see straight. I want them to beg for things most people haven’t even heard of!
You know that sex thing, right, that no one wants to talk about? That weird, scary thing…with the implements…and the…the stuff…that’s what I want. And even worse than all of that, I want him to want all of these insane things while looking like this:
Yeah, that’s right. I’m not satisfied with a submissive hero who looks like Gollum just gave birth to him. I don’t want some pale, sickly looking thing who recently crawled out of a cave that may or may not have featured in the movie The Descent.
I want hairy. I want big. I want a big, hairy guy to feature in a story entitled “I’m So Horny I’ll Do Anything You Say”, even if the things the heroine says often include cucumbers, Marks and Spencers, crotchless panties and some guy she met online. Hell, if it’s good for the goose, it’s good for the gander, right? I can’t tell you how many stories I’ve read that feature those very things, only with the roles reversed.
And now I’m just gagging for a guy to be the one who wears the crotchless panties, while stood in Marks and Spencers with a cucumber up his bum. Even if that exact scenario hasn’t actually occurred to any woman in any book ever, and I’m just making it up for my own perverse pleasure.
Oh, there’s no end to all the things I long for, from an erotic romance hero. Let him be daring. Let him be braver than any firefighter or Navy Seal or three hundred year old vampire.
Let him get fooked in the ass by the heroine, while begging her for more.
P.S. My latest novella, Raw Heat, comes out tomorrow! It’s got a massive, hunky werewolf who may or may not look a really lot like Armie Hammer, it’s got apocalyptic goodness, it’s got forbidden lust and love…check it out here:
And if you’ve got time, the new and v. mysterious line I’m writing for, Mischief, released a few anthologies, today. They’re packed with hot, erotic goodness, featuring (amongst others) me, Justine Elyot, Elizabeth Coldwell, Rachel Kramer Bussel…and they’re only £1.99 each. Check them out here: