Since I write erotic romance, the question I’m asked most often is “Do you
write about real-life experiences?” And, if it’s a guy doing the asking, this
question is often followed by “If you need any help with research...” then, a
wink and a sly smile. Initially, I found these questions annoying, thinking
them unfair. I mean, would these same people go up to my literary hero, Dean
Koontz, and ask him if he was really a schizophrenic psychotic with paranormal
endencies? And if they really thought so, I doubt they’d offer to assist him
with research. So why, then, do people assume that just because I write about
sex, I live a life overflowing with it?
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