We've all heard the gloating comments: when all other book sales are down over the last year or so, romance sales are up. Theories on why that's true abound, but it comes down to the old phrase, "Sex sells."
So how much sex is enough? How many ways can the act be described, and how many times can a reader get a charge out of the vocabulary, the phrasing, the details of who did what? I can't answer that, but I think that maybe "Sex sells" might not be quite right. It's the promise of sex, the courting ritual that builds as a book progresses, that requires the most effort from an author. Anyone can name the body parts and put them together with a little sweat and panting; it takes skill to create a situation where it's inevitable and oh, so right.
And for me, knowing exactly what happened isn't necessary at that point. You can turn off the lights and let them go at it. I'm not fourteen and clueless anymore.
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