Can
a romance/erotic romance heroine be bad? If so, how bad can she be?
And
by “bad,” I mean a more traditionally negative sense of the word. Not “badass”
as in a Lara Croft type heroine who can kick butt. Not “naughty” as in heroines
who experiment with a little BDSM. Not “unconventional” as in the historical
romance heroine who curses and drinks like a sailor and refuses to ride
side-saddle.
In
SEDUCING THE MASTER, an erotic historical, the female protagonist, Miss
Terrell, has it bad for Master Gallant. And she’ll go to great lengths to
seduce him. But her brazen tactics make her the proverbial
bull-in-a-china-shop. Terrell can come across aggressive, cunning and selfish. Others
might see her as assertive, resourceful, and a woman who isn’t afraid to go
after what she wants. In that respect, she is not unlike Scarlett O'Hara, the
vain, spoiled and strong-willed heroine of Gone
With The Wind.
Now,
“bad boys” abound in romance novels. The male protagonist can be arrogant,
ruthless, and coldhearted. He can be a jerk who cares more about money/business
than people. Yet we forgive these men their flaws when they fall in love with
the heroine. But can it work if the roles are reversed and the heroine starts
out with the negative characteristics? Or do we hold women to higher standards?
When
I first started out writing romances, I was told that while it was possible,
though not favorable, for the hero to stray from the core romantic
relationship, it was a definite no-no for the heroine to do the same. There’s
more leeway in erotic romances than traditional romances, but the “bad” girl
(not defined as simply a woman who is sexually active and adventurous) still
seems less common than the “bad” boy.
Have
you ever enjoyed a book featuring a “bad” girl and what made her “bad”? Do you
think there is a double standard between the sexes?
“Ravage Me.”
No man has ever resisted the charms of Miss Terrell before, but Master Gallant refuses to grant her request and have his way with her.
After losing a wager to the proprietress of the Inn of the Red Chrysanthemum, where patrons take carnal pleasures to wicked and wanton extremes, Charles Gallant reluctantly accepts an assignment to train Miss Katherine, a neophyte, in the ways of submission. His task, no easy undertaking for Miss Katherine is petrified by the goings on at the Red Chrysanthemum, is made more challenging by the constant distraction of a most persistent seductress — Miss Terrell.
A former slave from the West Indies, Terrell depends upon the Red Chrysanthemum for room and board. Her only prospect for a comfortable life is to become the mistress of a man with means. Sir Arthur, a wealthy Member of Parliament, is just such a man. Having staked his claim of her, he expects her full devotion. But Terrell cannot quell her scorching desire for Master Gallant, whose deft hand and command of rope bondage inflame her deepest, darkest cravings.
All this comes at an unfortunate time for Charles as he pursues his own election to Parliament. Succumbing to Miss Terrell would be a disastrous mistake. For her sake, he would not wish to incur Sir Arthur’s wrath. For his own, he risks the endorsement of Sir Arthur, whose support would assure him victory at the polls.
Miss Terrell, however, is intent on seducing Master Gallant. Only one thing can stop her, but it will devastate them both.
No man has ever resisted the charms of Miss Terrell before, but Master Gallant refuses to grant her request and have his way with her.
After losing a wager to the proprietress of the Inn of the Red Chrysanthemum, where patrons take carnal pleasures to wicked and wanton extremes, Charles Gallant reluctantly accepts an assignment to train Miss Katherine, a neophyte, in the ways of submission. His task, no easy undertaking for Miss Katherine is petrified by the goings on at the Red Chrysanthemum, is made more challenging by the constant distraction of a most persistent seductress — Miss Terrell.
A former slave from the West Indies, Terrell depends upon the Red Chrysanthemum for room and board. Her only prospect for a comfortable life is to become the mistress of a man with means. Sir Arthur, a wealthy Member of Parliament, is just such a man. Having staked his claim of her, he expects her full devotion. But Terrell cannot quell her scorching desire for Master Gallant, whose deft hand and command of rope bondage inflame her deepest, darkest cravings.
All this comes at an unfortunate time for Charles as he pursues his own election to Parliament. Succumbing to Miss Terrell would be a disastrous mistake. For her sake, he would not wish to incur Sir Arthur’s wrath. For his own, he risks the endorsement of Sir Arthur, whose support would assure him victory at the polls.
Miss Terrell, however, is intent on seducing Master Gallant. Only one thing can stop her, but it will devastate them both.
EXCERPT from SEDUCING THE MASTER
He
pinned her with a solemn stare. “Behave yourself, Miss Terrell, or I will
remove you by force.”
“I
should like nothing more than to receive your punishment, Master Gallant.”
He
inhaled sharply. The saucy jade. Catching her off-guard with a quick movement,
he wrapped his arm about her waist and whirled her over to the other side of
the doorframe. She landed against the wall with a soft thud. Disengaging
himself, he grabbed the handle of the door and pulled, intending to depart
without his usual civility.
To his
surprise, the door did not open. At first he thought it to be stuck, but then
he noticed that the key was missing from the lock. He turned to look at Miss
Terrell, whose lips curled in a slight but telling grin.
He
could hardly believe the woman—the chit. Did she truly intend to hold him
hostage?
“Produce
the key, Miss Terrell,” he commanded.
She
returned a smoldering stare. “Dominate me first. Do unto me as you had done to
Mistress Scarlet.”
He felt
his nostrils flare. He needed no second reminders of her, especially from Miss Terrell, who now tested his patience much
like Greta had, but for wholly different purposes.
“You
think impudence will gain you what you seek?” he asked.
She
leaned toward him. “If my impudence displeases you, then punish me for it.
Punish me…hard.”
He
stared at her in disbelief. No woman had ever made such a request of him. He
wanted to reiterate that she knew not what she spoke. She had witnessed but one
instance of the punishment he had applied to Miss Greta.
As if
guessing his thoughts, she added, “I can withstand anything you desire to do to
me, Master Gallant.”
“That
is a bold and foolhardy statement. You know nothing of what I am capable.”
Pressing
herself back against the wall, she cupped her breasts and caressed her ribs
before resting her hands near her crotch. “Prove me wrong. I dare you to.”
He
shook his head. He was done with challenges.
“I vow
I can endure more than Mistress Scarlet, more than any person of either sex. I
could be the most perfect submissive for you.”
“Unlikely.
You have already shown a penchant for misbehavior.”
“You
could correct my waywardness.”
He
frowned—because the prospect did not repulse him as he would have wanted it to.
“You
need have no reservation with me,” she continued. “You would be free to unleash
your full strength, to test the breadth of your wicked creativeness.”
His
blood pumped forcefully through his veins at her words. She cupped her mons
through her skirts, and a renewed sense of urgency swelled in him.
“Miss
Terrell, this tête-à-tête serves no purpose.
I bid you desist from wasting your time as well as mine.”
Stepping
forward, she grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled herself closer to him.
Lust burned like anger in her eyes, calling to a primal part of him that he
could not ignore. Her skirts brushed against his legs, and her corset nearly
touched where his hardened length was fast becoming visible.
“Then
ravage me.”
She
reached for his burgeoning erection, but, dropping his articles, he grasped
both her wrists and pinned them above her head to the door behind.
“Miss
Terrell, I am done with this tomfoolery. Produce the key.”
She
squirmed a little in his hold. “I should be happy to, Master Gallant, after you have had your way with me. You
cannot deny that you desire to do so.”
She
lowered her gaze to his crotch. He pressed his lips together in a grim line.
The scent of the pomade she used in her hair wafted into his nose once more.
Their bodies were far too close together for comfort. She slid her leg along
his. Holding her wrists aloft with one hand, he cupped her chin with the other
and lifted her gaze to meet his eyes.
“The
key, Miss Terrell,” he demanded, unable to keep the vexation from his voice.
She did
not blink and demanded, equally hotly, “Ravage
me.”
Her
words rang in his ears like a song of sirens. The air between them grew thin.
With a frustrated grunt, he yanked her from the door and dragged her across the
room to the sideboard where he kept the ropes.
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