MUSE MONDAY
Please join me in welcoming Angelica French to an oh-la-la day at Discover Yourself!
I am so happy to be guest posting today for Brenda. I have
admired her and her work for a long time, so this is a real treat to appear
here. When she put out the call for guest posters, the “Fearless Friday” topic
snagged my attention. Hmm! I have a pretty good life. Nothing to fear in it,
right? And then, I realized I had taken a step that was a risk.
It didn’t feel fearless when I started. After all, no one
would see it or even know it existed. It was not only my guilty little
pleasure, secret for a long time, but it had to be done. The pressure on me to
do it kept building until I could no longer ignore the necessity.
“It” was the erotic romance I wrote. Streetwalker was 180 degrees from the culinary mysteries I had been
writing. From PG to X-rated.
In large part, I wrote Streetwalker
because protagonist Carrie badgered me until I did. I’ve only written two
novels in which the protagonist took control, and I felt like I was just the
fingers doing the typing. This was one. The real work was done by my young
protagonist who gave me her story fully developed.
So, that’s not the fearless part, right? I kept it quiet
(except from DH who wondered why we were doing some, er, “inventive
engagements” as I “researched” sexual descriptions I was writing).
And here’s a confession. I’ve never told anyone this. The
sex in Streetwalker is hot and got me hot, too! I, mean, since I was channeling
my protag, it makes sense, right? I was feeling what she felt. It’s a weird
experience writing while in heat!
That confession is not the fearless part either. (Although,
I am a little fearful about your reaction.)
The fearless part was taking it public. Okay, admittedly not
fully public as I used a pen name. But I’ve never hidden the pen name
connection with my other author name. I have three names for writing. Each was
chosen with the purpose of branding not concealment. I don’t want someone who
loves Sharon Arthur Moore’s cozy culinary mysteries thumbing through Streetwalker looking for the recipes.
I told people I had written an erotic romance under the name
Angelica French and that I was seeking publication. Nervous titters from my
very conservative neighbors. Statements of disgust from my very religious
friends (“I do not write smut” I said on multiple occasions). And
disappointment in me from some family members and concern that I would
embarrass the family.
I’ve learned that few people know where erotic romance falls
on the continuum of romance. I had to educate them that what I write is not
erotica or porn. Erotic romance focuses on the relationship between characters
and uses a lot of sex while doing so. Sex is integral but so is character
development and a solid story line. Erotica and porn have much thinner, even
non-existent such aspects.
Coming out to people I respect was hard. Judging doesn’t
feel good. I don’t know anyone who enjoys being judged, especially from scanty
evidence and prejudices and not from a reading of the material.
I sought publication, and after quite a number of rejections,
a small press picked me up! Streetwalker
was born on August 1, 2013. More e-books than paperbacks sell, but that’s okay.
The anonymity of Kindle lets people enjoy my work who wouldn’t want to flash
the sexy cover about. Fearless step one accomplished.
But it was with trepidation that I took another fearless
step. I gave Streetwalker to my
85-year-old mother. And, like Mikey from the old commercial, she liked it! And
she liked it for the right reasons, not just because her kid wrote it. She got
it that the story was about Carrie’s character arc and about the relationship
with Harlan. She liked the story line very much and enjoyed the surprises along
the way. My sister never read page one. Never will. That’s okay. But, from my
perspective, she had no right to criticize me for offering the book to our
mother.
When you take risks like that, violating someone else’s
sense of what’s right, you have to live with the consequences. My sister and I
never mention Streetwalker. Her
children don’t know I wrote it. Best to keep it as a family skeleton, eh?
Sometimes when people are expressing dismay when they learn
about my other line of literature, I play along. “Yeah, I’m thinking of doing
an ad campaign like ‘Granny Does Smut’ or ‘Dirty Books for Dirty Minds. Get
Yours Filthy’ or ‘Melt your Kindle’”. They usually mutter something about
needing another drink and wander off.
So, I own that I write books that many would ban if they
could. I’m okay with that as long as you give it a read. Don’t make up your
mind about my story based on the blurb or the cover or your definition of
erotic romance. See what motivates Carrie. Find out how she comes out a winner
despite incredible roadblocks. Then we can talk. Fearlessly.
Streetwalker Excerpt
Streetwalker is the
tale of Carrie who wants more from life than to be a street prostitute. She has
convinced Harlan, the owner of an Upper East Side brothel to take her as a
minority partner for a trial period. In this excerpt from Streetwalker, Harlan
grooms Carrie for her introduction to his upscale brothel’s prostitutes and
clients.
“Your eyes get bluer when you’re
angry,” he paused, “and when you come. Did you know that?” Harlan teased her,
tugging on his shirt sleeves under his tux to pull the cuffs lower on his long
arms.
Carrie blushed. “This is my dress?”
There was little to it.
“I am a diaphanous kind of guy, I
guess.”
Carrie stared at him. “And that
means . . .?”
“Oh. Filmy, sort of see through, but
shadowed a bit, to entice them to find out what’s under all that fabric,”
Harlan explained.
“But this looks like an x-rated prom
dress. I mean, here are these sweet little straps holding up the bodice, but
then there are only two layers of fabric for the skirt, both di . . .di . . .”
“Diaphanous. Right. I want them to
want you, see but not touch. That little shadow below your abdomen--drives ‘em
crazy. Plus, I am pitching you as my virgin, saving you for the right
experience, you need to be trained in this work, blah blah. Put it on.”
She shrugged off her robe into
Harlan’s hands, and he could smell the faint aroma of cinnamon around her. He
wanted to lean into it and cover himself with her scent.
She slipped the dress over her head,
and he imagined the smooth coolness drifting over her body. Harlan zipped her
up, smoothed the skirt, and turned her around for adjustment in front of the
tri-fold mirror. The insubstantial straps held up a thin band of bodice, so
low, all but her nipples were exposed; from the bottom of the bodice, the skirt
fell away in a swirl of color. The silvery fabric caught the light and the
color kept changing, blue to silver to white. He stood behind her, his hands on
her shoulders. She took his breath away. It was exactly the image he wanted for
her to project. Innocence on the brink of discovery.
Carrie stared at herself as if in awe.
“I’m beautiful. I never thought I was beautiful. Oh, Harlan, thank you.” She
caught his eye in the mirror and smiled her thanks.
Harlan expertly applied her mascara, the lightest blush, and
sheer lip gloss. He brushed her hair into bangs (“So sweet and innocent, aren’t
they?”) and tucked the rest of her blond bob behind her ears, not at all
seductive. She looked as if she had left the barn to get ready for her big date
with the high school football quarterback. He studied her beauty, then crooking
his arm asked “Shall we?”
The room was full of the house women
when they arrived, all sipping their grape juice, and chatting with one
another. All of the women wore fabulous clothes. The room appeared to be
regular Fifth Avenue party, not at all like the brothel waiting rooms Carrie
had been in before. Still, none of the women had the fresh dewiness of her
look. Carrie would be noticed tonight.
Harlan was by her side when the first
clients arrived, scanning the room and spotting her. His arm lightly around her
waist sent a message. She wasn’t going anywhere with anyone anytime soon.
Angelica French Bio:
Angelica French is not now, nor has ever been, a prostitute
and to her knowledge, she doesn't even know one. But, Carrie bedeviled her with
the story until she sat down to write Streetwalker.
She felt like she was just the amanuensis for this tale.
However, Angelica has always been interested in universal feminine issues of self- worth and self-actualization. The "Sex Sells" series is one of redemption, recovery, and romance.
Angelica is happily married, with children, and lives in the desert southwest where she writes with a view of her citrus trees and the snoring of her yellow lab.
However, Angelica has always been interested in universal feminine issues of self- worth and self-actualization. The "Sex Sells" series is one of redemption, recovery, and romance.
Angelica is happily married, with children, and lives in the desert southwest where she writes with a view of her citrus trees and the snoring of her yellow lab.
Links:
Get your copy of Streetwalker here: http://amzn.to/12Lp95X
Website: www.sharonamoore.com
Blog: “Romance Righter”
www.angelicafrench.blogspot.com
Twitter: @RomanceRighter
Facebook: Angelica French
