And today I’ll share with you 13 reasons I think chocolate is better than sex.

1. There’s no such thing as bad chocolate.

2. A bag of M&M’s brings you multiple pleasure… every time.

3. I never had to pretend a cheap piece of chocolate was “the best I ever had”.

4. No busy day, foul mood, menstrual cramps or headache ever kept me from eating chocolate.

5. A hersey’s miniature never tried to pass itself off as a full-sized candy bar.
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With Easter on it’s way, I couldn’t resist a list of why chocolate is better than sex.

1. There’s no such thing as bad chocolate.

2. A bag of M&M’s brings you multiple pleasure… every time.

3. I never had to pretend a cheap piece of chocolate was “the best I ever had”.

4. No busy day, foul mood, menstrual cramps or headache ever kept me from eating chocolate.

5. A hersey’s miniature never tried to pass itself off as a full-sized candy bar.

6. I’ve never woken up in the morning with a strange box of chocolates in my bed.

7. You can share another woman’s chocolate without feeling guilty.

8. I never had to wait until the kids were in bed to enjoy chocolate.

9. I’ve never pretended chocolate satisfied my craving just to spare someone’s feelings.

10. A box of chocolates lasts a really long time.

11. Let’s face it… you can have chocolate anywhere. Even your grandma’s house.

12. I’ve never been embarrassed that someone overheard me enjoying a piece of chocolate.

13. I’ve never had an awkward moment of silence after eating a Dove bar wondering if it was a good decision.

I started reading romance in the late 19th century … well, okay, not that long ago, but suffice it to say I’ve been hanging out with sexy heroes and the woman who love them for a really long time.

I’ve always enjoyed the culmination of the romance with the sweet and tender (or very hot) sex scene. But I’ve noticed, as no doubt you have as well, that these scenes in main stream books have become *ah hem* very detailed.

It’s not that it surprises me. What’s been allowed on the big screen without an “X” rating being slapped onto a movie has changed exponentially since I was a kid. I really don’t remember specific titles, but I recently watched a movie and remember thinking that I was glad I wasn’t watching with my children or *gulp* my mother-in-law. It was less the yards of flesh and more the actions, explicit actions, that when watched with Mr. Nina were hot, but I was definitely surprised by how much they got away with. And now that’s translated to the small screen. Less with naked bodies and more with language.

So it’s not really surprising that romance books are following suit. It used to be the hero and heroine would have that one sex scene described in euphemisms. Now it seems like authors are being asked to put the sex in often and graphically. Like … really detailed.

Now here’s the interesting thing. In movies, woman can be shown naked. Everything. Breasts, butt, genitalia. For a long time. Men on the other hand can be shown in all their naked frontal glory for less than a second. And absolutely NO hint of arousal, otherwise the movie loses its “R” rating.

But books seem to go in the opposite direction. All the graphic euphemisms for men’s genitalia are found within the sex scenes. But the women? Nothing. They’re “entered” or “filled”. They have “most sensitive spots” and “tender flesh”. Because this isn’t erotic romance, it’s main stream. I’m currently editing a short novella that I “thought” was an erotic romance. But I think if I just change some of the intimate wording that my story will fall into the realm of just romance. Sexy romance, but not erotica.

But I wonder. how far can an author push the love scenes before a reader decides they’re reading erotica? At what point does it push the line from just sexy to over the top? Has the line become so blurred that even readers aren’t sure what they’re reading? Are there words/acts that you just don’t want to see? Because this whole thing is certainly confusing me and I’d love to hear what you think.

Last I heard we lived in the twenty-first century not in seventeenth century New England in the middle of the Salem witch trials. Still, a group of smallminded individuals with very little to do but stir up trouble decided that a 10th grade teacher in Pennsylvania needed to be hunted ambushed crucified outed. It seems this English teacher with 33 years experience teaching in the same school was doing something shameful behind the backs of the townspeople … she was writing erotic romance under a pen name to keep her private life–well, private!.

Oh, the horror!

Because you know all erotic romance authors are thinking about sex alllll the time. She probably was thinking each and everyone of the young men she was teaching was a possible research opportunity … yeah right! Where the hell would any parent in their right mind come up with that idea?

I started writing erotic romance before Little Boy Blue was out of high school. My children knew what type of books I wrote. Their friends knew what type of books I wrote. And trust me when I tell you there wasn’t one of them that wondered if their friend’s mother was thinking lurid thoughts about them. Ever imagine your parents “doing it”? Ewww … right? This falls in the same category IMHO.

The story broke two days ago. I must have read about it just a short time after it was released. I was in tears for Judy Mays. I wondered if the administration of the school was going to suspend her or worse. As a former teacher in a small town I know how rumors take on a life of their own and often steamroll over people and leave devastation in their wake.

But happily for Judy and her family, none of that happened.

What followed was a tidal wave of support on twitter and Facebook from the romance community (and many others) that warmed my heart. Judy’s situation went viral and authors all over stood up and shouted at the top of their lungs “Oh hell no!”. Within hours support on the facebook page topped 1,000 followers. Within 24 hours it had gone over the 5,000 mark and it’s still climbing … exponentially! Students, former students, parents, authors, heck people who only saw the story on the news, have all banded together to say that a teacher has a right to a private life. But it’s the romance community circling the wagons that just makes me smile. Despite the difficulty of acquiring contracts, romance authors support and encourage one another.

I know Judy. I had the privilege of meeting her at Romanticon in 2009. The woman is funny and kind. I have no doubt she makes English come alive for her students. And 33 years? Well, she’s got to love her job to stay with it that long. Despite the rough bumps she may have had to endure as this was unfolding, I suspect the publicity has give her sales a veeery nice bump.

I sure hope she and her family are able to take a nice, long summer vacation on someone’s small-minded stupidity!

Rock on, Judy!