Did someone steal my XX when I wasn’t looking?

The chromosome, I mean.

As you probably know if you found your way here, I am a writer of erotica. My work comes—pun not intended, but that’s the last time I’m saying that! ...where was I? Oh, right: My work comes in a couple of broad categories, separated on my web page into Romance and Fetish, with subsets (and some unavoidable overlap, getting worse all the time). Generally speaking, my characters a) find what they need and/or b) get what they deserve. Getting what they want isn’t nearly interesting enough for me to bother with all the work of writing and submitting and promoting. So, generally speaking, I don’t.

But, y’know, authors are supposed to pay attention to what readers want, and besides, I was curious, so when this article popped up in my RSS feeds, I clicked through. Hey, why not? My readers are mostly women, after all.

Not sure they’d be any more interested in this new release from Chronicle Books than I am, though. Don’t get me wrong, I certainly don’t object to the odd bit of exposed rippling male flesh, even if that male should happen to be wielding an iron or a curtain steamer or what-have-you at the time, but...there are things I’d rather see. That male without the fabric-care implements, for instance.

And I write beta heroes as often as alphas. Many of my romantic leads are kind, caring, sensitive men who give fantastic foot rubs and don’t insist on taking turns, who produce breakfast without being asked, who may well buy flowers for no reason at all. I just don’t think cleaning the bathroom is terribly sexy no matter how hunky the guy is who’s doing it!

Apparently, that makes me an aberration. Okay, so I’m overstating the case, but according to the Cambridge Women’s Pornography Cooperative, at least as paraphrased in the linked article, what turns women on are these home-making scenes. Men taking on what I’d call their share of the housework are unbearably sexy.

Um-hmm. If you say so. Always knew my tastes weren’t exactly middle-of-the-road, but I really didn’t think I was that far from center. So I don’t spent much time panting over what’s-his-name from Lost, that’s not reason enough to revoke my NOW membership, is it?

Hey! If housework’s so infernally sexy, should I worry that I’ve never felt the need to drag Mr. Coffee off to bed?

pxj