A: (The sad face appears...exaggerated
sighs....unsettled movements) No hugs,
no silly whispers, no tender licks, not even a snuggle or a nose to nose eye
embrace.
Z: I told you Bodi is ill, the doggie will be
back to herself in a few days.
A: (Pouts) Granted, I feel lost without my gal’s
affection, but I was talking about what I am working on… I am lost there as
well. I can’t find the romance in my
erotica. It’s like eating dark bitter chocolate
rather than milk chocolate… so slam and
bam without even a thank ya kindly ma'am.
So aggressive when I want soft.
Z: (Offers his full attention and has the tone
and demeanor of a professor) Erotica has
a keener edge toward the tactile, more action, get to the meat and potatoes, tit...alation personified, while romance is
subtle, lots of appetizers and desserts and plenty of comments on the sensory
enjoyment of the meal. The goal of sex
is oft time different. Romance is about
bonding souls and erotica is more often about expressing raw, animalistic
feelings.
A: Are you hungry or something?
Z: No, just using words that are close to your
heart.
A: (Nods in appreciation then wrinkles a
questioning brow) Why do you have a handful of plastic-bead necklaces?
Z: Tuesday was Mardi Gras.
A: And?
Z: I figured in the Mardi Gras tradition...
every now and then today... I'll toss you a necklace if you flash me your
boobs.
A: Huh?
(She wiggled a finger in her ear as if clearing it out to hear better)
Z: (Repeated his wanted transaction, adding a
teasing grin) Your boobs for my
necklace. (He gave her the ok hand
gesture) You have such big fanciful
boobs and my necklaces are so shiny... see... hypnotic... you are getting
sleepy... sleepy...!
A: Really... Honestly... Truly... you thought that?
Z: Mardi Gras told me to think that.
A: Rethink, dude!
Z: But the beads for boobs is pertinent. It is a right to it... no build up... beads
for boobs.
A: No sweet talk... no longing separations of
want... no inspired closeness... just bead for boobs? (She had the look of someone who just heard
someone say the sky is falling and looked up to see if they meant it) Pertinent?
Z: Yes!
(He daggles a necklace and bounces his eye-brows as if he is teasing his
pup with a ball-ball) Necklace... come
and get it... you know what Zi wants... please me... lift it... show me...
A: STOP! (She
followed the bouncing glittering pretty beads just like the pup would the
ball-ball then seemed to pull herself out of a trance) Put those away... I need more than a flash...
I know dudes can flash into sensations of feelings but I want more... and no
way in Hell am I going to... get it!
Z: I am doing this for you.
A: (Was that cajoling she heard?) How's that?
Z: We are writing erotica and you need to be
more spontaneous... more daring... more get right to it... more audacious... be
the vampy heroine not just her inventor.
A: (Implements her timeless, redundant eye-roll
to the heavens for divine deliverance from madmen) Let's work.
Z: (He jiggles the beads with luring
suggestiveness and keeps them in easy reach)
(Time passed as they wrote...
edited... discussed motivation... outcome (teehee)... and re-edited)
A: (Sits back, contemplates out loud) Bodice
ripper...is there a time and place?
Z: Absolutely. There are times a woman wants to be taken.
A: Often after she
knows she wants to be taken, and the reader knows this is what she wants. Erotica oft assumes all women want to be
taken.
Z: Romance writing
does the same but in a more gentle way. Hell,
don't we all want to be taken? Take
me. A necklace? Come on be bold... lift that blouse.
A: No!
Z: (Zi wrote as Ang
read) Some romantic erotica.
"Leave me be," she
flashed at the soldier blocking her path.
"I've come for my kiss,"
"I have no kiss for you. Now or ever."
"You lie."
"How rude of you."
"I have watched you study me
like a cat her prey."
"I have not!"
"You lie. I've come to claim my kiss."
"Let me by."
He grabbed her arm, clenched it
tightly, pulled her close. She
struggled, tearing at his strength and bulky fingers, but could not release his
hold. She felt as if the rag doll being
flung by a playful child, but this child was playing spitefully. Her free arm found a fist and she began to
beat his chest, but that did not discourage him, leaning into her, poised to
kiss. She reached to his cheek, sunk her
fingernails into flesh and scrapped. He
did not whimper or flinch. The crimson
blood quickly followed and she knew she had gone too far.
"Forgive me that," she
cajoled, the pretence of defiance gone. Her
eyes pleading.
His mouth encroached. She knew his crave, knew her own need, and
fell willingly, eagerly into his mouth, lost in the passion she denied and he
always knew.
A: I liked that.
Z: A necklace?
A: Maybe for a
lobster dinner. (She joked... why... she
wanted the necklaces to be put away)
Z: Deal! (He feigned making reservations)
***
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.
Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com
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