SEX & The Writer Girl

Okay, let's talk about romance novels, science fiction romance, and the kinky elf sex books that are so popular now days ... what's the difference between sexy parts and sensuous parts? Or what's the difference between romance and sex?

As far as my book go, let's get this out of the way right now.  My novels are first and foremost stories.  The characters, most of them, are adults, they fall in love on occasion, and they will indulge in the physical expressions of that love.  And I write about it ... I describe how the characters feel, what they feel, and what they're doing, up to a point. (Well, except in BLOODLINES. There's one scene there that's ... well, you can read it yourself.  When I wrote it, I thought it was necessary in context.)

However, although I am a science teacher, and I have written science texts, I'm not writing detailed descriptions of the sex act itself beyond what is necessary to create a (sensuous) mood.  And nothing destroys a lovely warm fuzzy feeling than pages of detailed scientific description (sorry H.G. Wells!).  I'm assuming my books are read by adults with a higher than average level of intelligence who have had some personal experience and know what life is all about. These people don't need a biology lesson!

I don't throw my characters together in absurd situations just to give them an opportunity to "get it on."  My characters  don't need it.  They're going to indulge themselves when they can within the context of the story.  And sometimes, wanting, or just plain not having is much more titillating than detailed descriptions of physical parts and how they can be joined.

I write romances, and I try to make them as sexy and sensuous as I possibly can using every writing device I can think of.  Do I have something against sex?  ABSOLUTELY NOT!   I love reading the sexy parts, but there are some writers whose entire novel is so good, that it's just massive foreplay and has you about screaming when they finally get to the actual act itself* ... YIKES! Now that's good writing!  And it's  where I want to go with my stories.

So, with this in mind, try my books! You'll like them, I know you will. And write to me ...
jmbolton.author@gmail.com

*I was thinking of Linnaea Sinclair's Games of Command ... when Tasha finally gets Brandon into bed for the first time about  three quarter of the way through the book, it's absolutely breathtaking. Not to mention the one scene where he just holds her and keeps her warm while she gets a quick nap ... this is romance at its best.  You'd have to be dead not to respond to this kind of writing.

Dyslexia and This Writer Girl

I'm dyslexic, and was fortunate enough to grow up and be educated in a time before people started labeling and compensating for childhood ... ah, I want to say disabilities, but I think that's not politically correct.  Anyway, I didn't read until I was about 8. Oh, I had books .. I loved books and the stories my mother would read to me, and I could recognize some words, but putting them together and reading on my own was beyond me. Then I had elementary school teachers who would read to the class after lunch. We would put out heads down and sit quietly while she read a chapter from "The Little House" series, the "Black Stallion" books, or some other childhood favorite. I loved this time, and while she read, with my eyes closed, I would watch the movie her words evoked in my head. Eventually I taught myself how to watch a movie in my head while I was reading. And I still do that today.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, this is the way I write. I watch a movie in my head and write it down. I think this is what my readers like so much ... I can create the movie for them as well, and this makes my books a smooth read.

The Alien Within

Winter had turned her back on a tragic past and dedicated her life to the Federation Space Service. And ever since she had been a model starcaptain -- decisive, emotionless, and utterly committed.

But then a container carrying a live body turned up pm her ship. Suddenly Winter was a target for assassination by a powerful alien civilization, and but the Federation itself. And for the first time, Winter found herself questioning her orders.

THE ALIEN WITHIN is the story of betrayal and two live devastated. It's about 2 beings who are trying to find meaning in their lives after everything they knew has been destroyed. And it's about revenge ... 

REVIEWS

The Alien Within
“This is a novel full of the sort of adventures and characters that keep space opera entertaining.” LOCUS

The Alien Within
“Quite entertaining space opera with a suitably complex plot
and above average characterization.” s.f. Chronicle

Although it's out of print, you can still find copies of this book, and it's a very good read. I am, however, re-editing it and putting back in all the romance that was left out -- it was originally published before the romantic was acceptable.  I find this odd b/c my x, who is an avid reader of sc/fi has no objections to a bit of romance in his books. In fact, he was the one who turned me onto "Shards of Honor" - Lois McMaster Bujold! (Excellent read!)

There is a sequel to THE ALIEN WITHIN, by the way.  It's tentatively called THE DRAGON GATE. I have it outlined and bits are written, but it's been languishing in my files for a bunch of years. I need to get it out and dust it off so we can find out what happens next to Winter and Shaw.

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MOSAIC 2010

MOSAIC contains a variety of work by members of The Brooksville Writers’ Group.  There’s something here for every taste -- ancient tales, current events, science fiction & ghost stories.  Some of the stories are suitable for children, while others are definitely adult in theme. I have 4 pieces in this volume - written as JM Bolton and as Marjory Thierry.

Here are a few samples  from the book: 

Thanksgiving is my favorite human holiday ... and you thought dogs didn’t notice such things!  Our house is a big old colonial farm house, and everyone drives out here from the city for dinner.  They think it’s quaint and picturesque.  But so many people means lots  of food, and even more important, lots of leftovers and such for me!  ... turkey drippings, crisp chunks of skin ... not to mention the other bits and pieces that get passed under the table.  Yum!  I can taste it already! 
Just Your Typical Thanksgiving (from the dog’s point of view) – JM Bolton 

Detective Sgt Colin Draycott allowed a heavy sigh to escape his lips as he stared down at the body laying half in and half out of the water at the edge of Thousand Mile Lagoon. From his head to the tip of his gray green tail the half man, half fish had been close to ten feet long. 
     “Damn,” he muttered, jamming his hands deep into his overcoat pockets. “Mermen sure are ugly.”
 Fish Out Of Water – Marlene Becker

 Ever since that fateful day in April when old Bob Lee surrendered to General Grant in Virginia, Petey’d been walking. The men had been allowed to keep their weapons, but Petey had none, so he just bid his friends goodbye and started for home. It sure was a long way from Appomattox to Kingsburg, a little burg just north of Chattanooga.  
A Long Walk Home – Don Kafrissen 

The train engineer squinted his eyes to see the shape on the tracks better. His sandwich dropped to the floor as he used both hands to push buttons and pull levers. 
     “Object on the tracks!” He yelled as he rammed the whistle with his fist. The horn blasted in the air like a bomb exploding.  The train slowed, but Wayne knew it could never stop in time.
Her Last Act – Linda Welker

Buy the book HERE

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The PIRATE'S LADY

There is both love and adventure in this historical romance set against the devastating earthquake and fire that destroyed Port Royal in the Bahamas. What's different about this story? For one, the heroine isn't a stupid wishy washy simpering miss, and yet she's assertive without being totally out of character for the time and place. I really hate stories where the main female gets into situations because she just plain silly, or where she haves like a super liberated 21st century girl stuck in the 15th century and glaringly out of place.
         My heroine is named Morgana, bytheway, which  means "of the sea" and so I thought it fit her. Despite her rather fantastic name, she's a child of her time who is just a bit adventurous, but for good reasons. Read the story and you'll see

Here's a sample:

     Daniel rose to his feet and held out his hand.
    "Come," he demanded softly, his gray eyes compelling. "Dance with me."
     The musician played a saraband, a dance that had actually been outlawed by the Church for, despite the fact that it was very slow and the movements graceful and formal, it was still a dance of languorous seduction. Daniel glanced at him, an eyebrow raised in amusement, before he turned all of his attention to Morgan and to the dance.
     The Captain advanced, his eyes locked with Morgan's. She swayed back, coquettish in retreat. Back and forth, they moved gently with the music, their bodies never touching, but barely a breath apart. She pirouetted out of his arms, but he caught her to him again, his touch gentle, but his strength so apparent in the way he held her as much by his will as his hand.
     She felt him as she had never felt any man before, the heat of his body burned through her clothing. She felt weak, her bones liquid. She wanted to surrender, to be overpowered by the strength she felt in him, and at the same time, she knew he wanted her just as much.
     The music crested, peaked and then slowed more, winding to a close. His breath brushed her cheek as they froze in that last instant, and all life seemed suspended for one long trembling moment. Then his hand was gone and the music faded into the sound of the ship on the sea, the hiss and slap of waves against wood, the creak of the rigging. Morgan stood, just trying to breathe, then raised her head high and looked into his eyes.  As he bowed to her, she curtsied, but not a word spoken. The dance may have been over, but something else had started.

Yes, this is a historical romance! I wrote this story when I was 16 and madly in love with the sea. Well, I'm still in love with the sea which is why I taught Marine Science.  But this story has held up well through all those l-o-n-g years, and demanded to be written! So I did. 

Funny thing, whenever I tell someone I wrote this story when I was a teenager, they automatically expect a juvenile. Com'on, folks! I stopped reading kid's books when I was 12! That's when my mother told me I could check out library books as long as just one of them wasn't about horses.  And so I discovered historical novels, and romance, and eventually s-e-x. 

The Pirate's Lady was just a young girl's romantic fantasy back then, but now that I actually know what sex is about, it has become a lot more.  And it is definitely NOT a juvenile!

My editors liked that it was a smooth fast read ... even one who doesn't usually read historicals said she enjoyed it.

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HEADSTUDIES

I suspect an elementary school teacher taught my class to write poetry, and I've been doing it ever since.  My first poems were published when I was still in high school, and they've appeared in a number of publications including a cookbook! That was the Tomato poem (included in this volume). 

Now the tomato poem has a strange story. I wrote it when I got back from a "salon" of sorts held by a journalist who had the idea of getting all the "interesting" people she'd interviewed together so we could meet each other and share our art with one another. It was a nice idea and a very interesting evening. One gentleman, however, was a poet who read a couple of his poems Well, I can't begin to describe his method of delivery ... it was a sort of cross between the sounds a cow would make if she was caught in a fence and someone giving birth to an extremely large baby sideways. I truly didn't know if he was being funny and I should laugh, or he was serious and I should hide under a piece of furniture!

So I went home and wrote my own emotive piece of poetry.  But it turned out to be pretty good. It's actually been published four times, and it's probably the sexiest piece of poetry about a tomato you'll ever read.

Another poem, the sample below, was actually written as part of a college exam ... it was an experimental class in mathematics taught by a genius of a teacher who took us exploring mathematical concepts in all kinds of unexpected places such as art, music, and the natural world. The school couldn't stand it, BTW, and the class was discontinued, alas. (Libby, where are you?)

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Sample

Mathematics Poetically
by JM BOLTON

  I hope you can be suited
by a poem that’s computed
And writ not by pen, but machine.
Don’t depend on my meter,
sometimes stretching it’s neater,
Read on and you’ll see what I mean.

When I write, it’s laborious
and often uproarious
when you read all the nonsense
I’ve said.
And don’t think I’m not willin’
to write like Bob Dylan,
I just can’t get inside of his head.

Still, it’s fun to relate
the contortions of fate
in arithmaticalistic design.
A mathematical beat
for numerical feet
with vibrations in parallel time.

Now if I learn trigonometry
all those things astronomically
inter-related with everything real;
with calculus calculating,
logic logically relating,
Will it help me explain how I feel?

Numbers are amazing!
Although sometimes they’re crazing,
their puzzles confusing
the muse in my mind,
who’s creating, conceiving
what now I believing …
oh, where are the answers I’m trying to find?

Still light waves come swirling,
great galaxies curling
through purple, magenta, and blue in my head.
My eyeballs are tired, my muse has expired,
my circuits are scrambled,
I’m going to bed.

(c) 2008 JM Bolton
all rights reserved
In other words, steal my poem and I'll say bad things  about you.
Plus I'll get the white man's lawyer magic. 
Karma, karma!

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