I’d like to welcome my guest Marie Rose Dufour, whose debut novel was released just this month. Welcome Marie!
“So what type of romances do you write?”
A writer asked me while we were getting together for dinner. This question always has me shaking in my shoes. You never know how people are going to react to the answer.
“I write erotica.”
A nervous laugh went around the table.
“Hmm…It’s always the sweetest looking ones who write erotica.”
So here is a question. Do writers of certain genres look a particular way? I think it’s like saying all phone sex operators look the girls in the commercials. What should an erotic romance author look like? Should I prance around the house in a black leather dominatrix outfit, cracking my whip, making my husband call me, Mistress? Although it might be a fantasy of my husband’s (don’t get any ideas Mr. Marie), it’s not going to happen. I’m sure I’m not bursting anyone’s bubble here but I’m usually writing in my yoga pants and a t-shirt.
Writers are regular people who just gravitate towards a particular genre. Barring Stephen King (who is probably a very nice person but definitely looks like he should be writing horror), you really can’t tell who writes what by looking at them.
In order to be a better writer, you have to write what you’re passionate about. Speaking for myself, I’ve always loved romances. Maybe, my love of romance comes from my mother who is never without a Harlequin Romance novel in her purse; or blame it on Disney fairy tales like Snow White or Sleeping Beauty.
Whatever or whoever is “to blame”, it has made me a better writer because “Happily Ever After” is a passion of mine. It may not always happen in real life but it will always happen a t the end of my books.
Finally, why erotica? You’ll just have to read between the lines on that one and read the books. 😉
Marie’s book, Fated Mates is available through Secret Cravings Publishing
We know that we are no longer alone in the universe. Descendants of Earthly ancestors have returned to find the other halves of themselves, their destined mates.
Dragon, a scarred Serralian warrior drawn to the planet of his ancestors, never believed the Goddess had a mate for him but no matter what he believes, he’s unable to resist the pull of the planet deep within in soul.
Liz, a curvy teacher who escaped an abusive marriage three years earlier is afraid to take another chance on love. Tired of being a bystander in her own love life, she participates in an ancient ritual to identify Serralian mates. Taking that chance changes her life forever. Can these two people overcome their pasts to become each other’s true Fated Mates?
Liz woke up with the sounds of waves crashing in her ears. Confident of the lack of beachfront property within her condo, she wondered what destiny had in mind for her now. She sat up looking around at her surroundings. Lying under a beautiful canopy tent draped with yards and yards of gauzy royal blue material swaying gently in the breeze, and keeping the rays of the sun from beating down on her body. Liz ran her hands over the bedding beneath her. It felt softer and smoother than the highest count Egyptian cotton sheets bought in Bed, Bath, and Beyond.
The beautiful beach reminded her of pictures of exquisite Caribbean beaches with turquoise waves and miles and miles of powdery white sand. The gentle breezes lightly ruffled her hair as she walked down the beach to the edge of the water which rose up to meet her feet, tickling her toes.
“Well, Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore,” she said looking up at a foreign sky with two moons in the distance.
“I must be dreaming. I read so much information about Serralia I’m dreaming about it in Technicolor. Damn! This is one realistic mother of a dream.”
Suddenly, her senses went on high alert. She didn’t know if the air around her had changed or if her body sensed another person behind her, but she knew she was no longer alone and somehow her mate stood behind her.
Two strong bronze hands slowly encircled her waist, pulling her gently back to into a lean, hard body. Liz sighed. This felt right. She snuggled deeper into the embrace. Nothing ever felt this right before. She could stand here in the safety of his arms forever.
“I’ve been waiting for you. I thought you would never get here,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry it took so long. I never let myself believe you existed.”
“I read your file.” The hands moving on her stomach stilled. “I’m sorry for what you had to go through alone. I would have been there for you if I had known.”
“I wouldn’t have been there if I had faith I would find you someday.” Dragon’s chest expanded letting her love and comfort wash over him. “So you know?”
“About everything that happened to you when you were taken prisoner? Yes, I know. I know you lost an eye and still wear an eye patch. I bet it makes you look rakishly handsome.”
She felt the chuckle in his chest before she heard it. The heat of his body warmed her back and aroused her body.
“I have never been told such a thing.”
“Well, I’m sure it does.”
She stroked the muscular forearms at her waist with light caresses. His body trembled behind her.
“We’ve never met in person, but I already feel connected to you. Is it normal?”
“The bonding happens when we are connected as mates. Normal. I don’t know. Right, yes.”
“Do you know about me?” she whispered.
“I know you are perfect.” He leaned down and sweetly kissed the top of her head.
Liz stilled, she might as well tell him about her marriage. She didn’t want any secrets between them.
“I was married before,” she blurted out nervously. “He was not a nice man. He hurt me, not only physically, but verbally too. It took a long time, but I left him.”
Dragon fully stilled behind her. All the wonderful stroking stopped. Her stomach dropped down to her feet. Shit! I’ve ruined this already. She knew her mistake of a marriage would follow her around for the rest of her life. She knew it.
“You don’t know how much pain it causes me to know how much pain you had to endure. I would gladly be tortured again if it meant taking it away from you.
You never have to be afraid with me. I would sooner cut off my own arm than hurt a hair on this beautiful head.”
Liz nodded, the lump in her throat making any physical speech impossible.
“I realize it might be a while before you believe this, but it is true.”
“I do believe you. I don’t know why, but I do.”
“Good. Now, we can continue what we started here.”
Callused thumbs again stroked her stomach making it quiver and her pulse quicken. If this was what he could do to her body with only his thumbs, she might actually die from pleasure. She smiled thinking about what her obituary would say. Woman dies from having the most intense sexual experience of her life, then her brain stopped working; her body took over and went into overload.
Marie Rose Dufour grew up reading romances. She secretly attributes, or blames, her mother who would have romance novels delivered to the house monthly while she was growing up. When she is not reading or writing romances, you can find her working tirelessly in urban education. Marie Rose Dufour lives in Rhode Island with her high school sweetheart and two very curious cats. You can keep up with all her newest releases on her website or follow her on Facebook.