Condoms in Romances?

Let's talk about sex for a few. Okay, the condoms involved (or not!) with the sex.

The couple has been through all of their drama stuff: sexual tension between the two, outside issues, internal issues (its a romance, of course!) and finally decided to come together. It might be rip-my-clothes-off-and-take-me-now

kind of sex that is filled with so much fire and passion it could burn the building down. Or might be the take-your-time-and-discover-every-part-of-me kind of sex. Both are great and work well in romances. So we get the characters to this scene. They are kissing, touching, yearning for each other. One character pulls out a condom or mentions the use of one. Do you think it ruins the scene? Takes away from the fantasy and sensuality that romance novels bring?

I don't remember adding condom use in any of my books, but I've read some of my favorite author's books that have included condoms. The scenes were done with class and only a few words were added to show that the sex was protected. I didn't mind a bit because it fit with the character's personality. I do think the action of pulling out a condom or denying the other sex would throw me off if the character had been some careless risk taker unless he/she were paranoid of having kids.

So what do you think? Condoms or no condoms? I think I might want to add one in a book somewhere to mix things up a bit. Hm, something to think about for sure.

Wendy Ely

Writing Prompt!

I love writing prompts so I thought I would post one in favor of Halloween! If you'd like to share what you have written feel free to do it in the comments section or email me at authorwendyely@gmail.com. I'd love to read them!

Talk to you soon,

Wendy Ely

Dreaming of Him Excerpts!!

Hiya, friends! I have the excerpts for Dreaming of Him. Can you tell I'm excited?!? Anyway, enjoy the reads....

Dreaming of Him blurb:

The dark brings romance…and death.

Loneliness has clouded Amber Addaire's life, but now she's ready for a change. After a complete makeover still leaves her unhappy, it's only when she starts dreaming of an oddly familiar - and extremely handsome - man that she begins to feel happiness.

Trace Elkson is a spirit stuck on earth long enough to let his childhood friend, Amber Addaire, know how much she meant to him before he died. He can't tell her what he is, or that he's watching over her. He can only communicate with her through her dreams and hopes she will eventually realize who he is.

In the dream realm, Amber falls in love with Trace but can she figure out who he is and join him before his spirit is forced to move on?

WARNING: A deep friendship, impending death, and a life saved.

Excerpt 1:

The man of my dreams stood there, his back to me this time, giving me the opportunity to look at him for any hint of memory. His straight brown hair had recently been cut. Despite the cool temperature, he wore an old t-shirt that seemed to fit over his broad back. The jeans he wore were faded and cupped his ass as if that style of denim had been invented only for him. My stomach fluttered as he turned around, offering a large grin. Had he been waiting for me?

“I’m so glad to find you here,” I said, walking over to him.

He held his arms out and I eagerly stepped into his embrace. It had been so long since I’d experienced this warmth from another person. “I was waiting for you.”

“Can you tell me your name now?”

He shook his head and stepped back. I wanted to stay against his chest. Having him against me washed all of the negativity from my life. “Remember what I asked of you?”

“Yes. You want time.” I turned my back to him. “I never feel this sensation with anyone else.”

****

Excerpt 2:

The sun had begun to sink behind the rippling water of the lake. My favorite time of the night had arrived, along with my favorite season--fall. The cool breeze made me snuggle deeper in my coat. I sat on the large rock, watching the moon glitter over the inky water. This place had been my favorite spot. Always the place I had gone when a problem chewed at my brain, since about age seven.

I felt him approach the rock, but didn’t turn toward him. My gaze stayed fixed on the grooves over the water’s surface. Even his sliding over the rock to sit next to me didn’t steal my attention. At that moment, he didn’t matter to me.

“Amber?”

“Mm hm?” My gaze remained on the lake before me. I had the sense that I had been in this exact situation before. But I didn’t know this man. I was certain of it, even though he felt familiar in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.

“What is bothering you?” He slid his arm around my shoulders and hugged me close, and I rested my head against his shoulder without hesitation.

“How do you know something is bothering me?” Tears of frustration threatened to spill.

“I know you, Amber.” He slid his fingers through my hair. “I can tell when you’re upset about something. What is it?”

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Was he someone I could trust? He must be. Being in his arms felt so right, even without knowing his name. “I’m trying to be someone I’m not.”

“I see.” He really didn’t. He couldn’t possibly understand what a fake life I lived outside of this dream. But he washed away the tension that had been bundling my nerves into tight bands.

“I don’t know what to do about it. That’s why I came here.”

“Because this is your favorite spot to think. Right?”

I pulled from the comfort of his arms. “How do you know that?”

“Because I know you, Amber Michelle Addaire.” He turned to me and clasped my hands in his. “I wish you would realize that.”

“But do I know you? What’s your name?”

His eyes. In each dream, those rich chocolate brown eyes drew me in as though I had once looked into them. Not in the dreams, either. In real life. Had I? Would he tell me this time?

“You’ll know soon enough. Sometimes rushing things ruins the situation. Time, my dear, is everything in this case. Give it all the time warranted.” He stood. “And Amber?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry about trying to be someone you’re not. Everyone does that once in awhile. It helps us discover who we really are.” A piece of hair fell down against his tanned forehead as it had the first time he’d joined me at the lake.

The man of my dreams disappeared then, leaving me sitting alone on the rock.

I woke up with a start. Why had he just left willingly this time? It wasn’t as if I had somewhere to go. Saturday morning had arrived, meaning I could sleep in all day. And be with him in my dreams. But nope. He had to disappear, leaving me to wake up in the dreary bedroom, dreading the day ahead.

There really wasn’t any reason to dread the day, either. Things weren’t so bad in my life. Many people in the world had it a lot worse than me, so why couldn’t I see it like that? I tried, damn it, but couldn’t.

***

I don't know about you, but I can't wait for this novella to be released (1-23-12)!!

Talk to you soon,

Wendy Ely

Tis the Month for Ghouls, Ghosts and Wickedly Witches

I love, love, love October!

As a child, no month on the calendar could quite compare to the crisp, fallen maple leaf smell of October. Growing up in Michigan, the fall really was the most wonderful time of the year. Only a month into the new school year and the Halloween decoration were up on the bulletin boards, recess talk was about costumes. Weekends were devoted to apple picking at orchards and watching the mills make cider in the press. Fires in the fireplace were usually the norm as the days grew colder. Huge piles of leaves in the front yard that were perfect for jumping in. With memories like those, is it any wonder that I grew up to love this month of changing colors?

But it's more than that. I've always loved a good ghost story. I can't seem to help myself. The mere thought that people can come back from the other side and communicate with the living is one that has been with me all my life. See, I grew up in a haunted house. My mother, who really isn't a firm believer in anything paranormal--a stark contrast from my father who believed in everything paranormal--saw shades of people who may have once lived on our property. Not the house itself since from the way she described the clothing of the man she saw leaning against a mantle that wasn't like ours, it was a spill over from another era. But something about that man, saw into our world, our time and he looked directly at my mother and smiled then faded away.

Ghosts have followed me all my life. I don't think I've ever not lived in a haunted place, though in all fairness they are benign spirits who make more noise than nuisance of themselves. I'm fine with that. And given recent theories of time-space, whose to say that time isn't curled in on itself and the past and present, along with the future do not touch along some great cosmic helix. If that's the case, they have as much right to be in my house as I do--though I wished they'd do a little more around the house and perhaps help pay the mortgage.

At this time of year, I like to curl up with a scary book and read about ghosts, ghouls and wickedly witches. It's that same little kid in me wanting to relive my childhood and drink mulled apple cider with cinnamon sticks and sit in front of a fire. I do love scary movies, but sometimes nothing beats a great scary book on a cold autumn night.

By the way, I am looking for recommendations. Let me know if you have any. I'm about ready to get my Halloween TBR pile together. Oh, and the story doesn't necessarily have to be set around Halloween, but it does help.

Until next week,

-Kate