As I’ve written before, I really, really don’t enjoy writing sex scenes. I have zero issues with other writers who do; in fact, I have been known to feel the slightest nibble of envy toward those brave authors who so effortlessly leaven their romance with the erotic.
With each romance novel I’ve written, the amount of sex slumps ever-so-slowly downward, till my last novel, The Tithe, only includes one brief glimpse, and it’s not even between the main protagonists.
And then. And then, the other day, I stumbled across a website that featured a top-ten list of sexless romance books. Sexless. Romance. Books. I knew not all romances had sex in them, but… but was sexless romance a thing?
Maybe I’m not the only one who prefers the sweet to the salty.
Upon reflection, sure, I can…
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