First off, I want to thank Madison for having me as a guest today. Yes, some things are meant to be naughty and that’s okay. I’ve held a similar philosophy as I’ve struggled to share my novels with my kids, all over twenty years old. They’re very excited and supportive to see their mom published, but there’s a big ick factor around naughtiness. Understandably.
When I received a copy of Love of Her Lives, my first novel, I was so excited I started to read the first chapter aloud to my twenty year old son. He sat through it looking politely supportive. I asked if he’d like me to read more. He cringed. “No. It makes me really uncomfortable to hear my mom say balls.”
Balls? Oh, come on. It’s an innocent reference. Really. Set in 1907, a married couple argue over women’s rights. In Bethany’s point of view, it goes like this:
“I will gladly go to prison before I abandon the fight for women’s enfranchisement.” She took a second to gulp a deep breath. “If you think to force me to cease this cause,” one more deep breath, “then you are no husband of mine.”
“No husband? What sort of husband doesn’t protect his wife? Do you wish to cut my balls off too, so you can be married to a eunuch?”
It was just like him to overlook her point. “This isn’t about your balls, you bloody man!”
The sound of bleating sheep grew closer. Glancing over her shoulder, she flinched to see them moving toward her at a quick advance. Dear God, they looked agitated. She took a step toward her insufferable husband.
I think the naughtiness in Love of Her Lives is pretty tame relatively speaking, but my daughter pointed out that since I read to them throughout their childhood, she hears my voice in the words. Of course parents cannot be seen as sexual creatures. I had parents, I get that. So as a safeguard, she skips pages where things get intimate.
I’ve suggested my kids not read my paranormal novella Rhapsody. The premise is just too naughty. When their tropical resort disappears, Jonathan and Isabelle must play a game of seduction to win their freedom from the Elvin world where they are trapped.
I do struggle a bit with how far to go naughty-wise, but at the same time, it’s a fun place to go.
Here’s an excerpt from Rhapsody where Isabelle’s throw of the die leads to a magical bondage scene:
He inched her skirt up slowly, let the fabric glide over her perfect thighs. Silky fabric she’d chosen for the sensual feel of it against her legs — women did that, he imagined. Damn, he’d never seen thighs as firm and flawless and sexy as hell. Smooth. Kissable. With little effort, he gave into the urge to have another taste of her now. He leaned down and nibbled the side of her knee, nipped at her skin lightly. Her feel, her taste, her scent invaded his head all at once.
“Oh.” The one word drew out of her slowly like a soft moan. Her response was fire streaking through his veins. Her bonds only fed the flames. Her willingness to explore and take a risk was more of a turn on to him than he’d have guessed.
“Do that again … but … ”
Her breath eased out softly as he stroked her thigh with his fingertips. “But … you should do your sketch quickly, so we can finish the game.”
“Sketch here? I’m not even halfway to my canvas. I’m going all the way up, baby. Did I mention I play to win?” Touching her gave him a sensual charge beyond anything he’d experienced.
She made another sound and now he wasn’t sure if it was one of pleasure or annoyance, and he’d be damned not to know the difference.
“I’ll need to spread your legs a little further apart, so I have a decent expanse for my artwork.” As he nudged her legs to expose more of that delectable thigh, he felt the tremble. Again. Nothing like a tremble to spur a man on.
“Mmmm hmmm. This feeling of being able to do nothing but accept what you choose to do is driving me wild.” The rough sound of her voice was confirmation, but her admission surprised him.
And made him grow hard in his pants. Ah, perhaps she was playing with him, the little minx.
With a dip of his head, he brushed the inside of her thigh with his lips. “Tell me more. When you’re fantasizing about silk ties, are you naked first or do you prefer to have a man slowly strip and expose you?”
“What makes you think it’s a man in my fantasy?”
For more information on my books, please visit: sharonclare.com
Thanks again, Madison! And to thank your readers for visiting today, I’d like to offer the chance to win a small travel gift since Rhapsody takes place on a tropical vacation. Please leave a comment with your email address and tell us if you’ve had any naughty-wise struggles. I’ll randomly select one commenter to win.
Sharon Clare lives in Ontario with her husband and three wonderful grown-up kids who come and go from the nest. She fell in love with writing at the University of Toronto where she graduated with a science degree in psychology and professional writing. She writes paranormal romance and has published short stories, art reviews, newsletter and magazine articles. Her favourite place to write is outside under the maple trees beside the lily pond.