5 Reasons Life is Not a Romance Novel


  1. Romance novel heroines don’t seem to have a monthly cycle. The only time the issue of a heroine’s period seems to arise is when she skips it. i.e. the super virile hero got her pregnant that time they used a condom but his man junk burst so forcefully from his member that it broke and voila! There’s a secret baby. The rest of the time h&hne are free to do the down and dirty.
  2. There’s no PMS in romance novels (see above). When the hero says “You’re beautiful” the lucky girl in question melts. She doesn’t say “Beautiful? You’re just saying that because you think I’m fat. You were perving on that woman, weren’t you? She’s beautiful. I’m a cow! How come you never buy me flowers anymore?”
  3. One night stands routinely lead to relationships in romance novels. Because every guy who picks up a stray woman in a bar immediately thinks “Hey man, she’s totally easy. I’m going to pull out all the stops to romance her and then introduce her to my mother.” If life were a romance novel, you could forget perfectmatch.com. Just head to the nearest bar, throw back a few margaritas and wait for the gorgeous undercover cops/millionaire CEOs/hunky race car drivers to come a-sniffing. You’d find a husband like that, guaranteed.
  4. In romance novels, your best friend is always a bigger slut than you (that’s quite a feat, given point No 3).
  5. Does anyone in real life get to say “Oh my God, I don’t think I can fit that all in!”

Waking up next to him after a drunken night out? Priceless.




















You have a great weekend now :).


Lexxie Couper’s Writing Tips


Everyone has one good story to tell. Some of us have more than one. The tricky bit is not finding the story to tell, but getting the story out of the noggin’ and onto the page – or in today’s technological age, into the computer.


Here are FIVE tips I write by every time I start a new book:


Tip One: Write What You Love To Read/Read What You Love To Write


It’s no good writing romance if you love reading horror. Don’t try and write a crime thriller if you rarely read anything but family dramas. I know this sounds obvious, but you would be surprised how many readers think they’ll write a “bodice ripper” to make some money cause “anyone can write one of those” even though they haven’t read one since the 70s. If you don’t love the genre you are writing in, no matter how good you are at structuring a sentence or devising a plot, it will show. If you’re not emotionally involved in what you are writing, how can you expect your hoped-for readers to be?


Tip Two: Write EVERY DAY. And I mean, EVERY DAY.


Even if you delete every word you’ve written, it doesn’t matter. The story won’t leave your head by itself. Set yourself a daily word count goal (mine is 2000) and try and write that many each day. It can be a daily word count of one hundred words (and sometimes, that’s all I achieve if I’m lucky) but the very magic of forming words and sentences contributes to the addictive magic of writing your story. Accept some days forming those words and sentences will be like pulling teeth and other days will be like drowning in a flood. And again, don’t stress if you delete them all. No word written is ever wasted, even the ones you trash.


Tip Three: Buy A “How To” Book. No, Buy Two…No, Three!


Seriously, there are some brilliant “How To” books on writing. Buy/beg/borrow as many as you can and devour them. If you can, highlight bits that you feel are important and read them again. Some of the best “How To” books for romance are Alison Kent’s The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing Erotic Romance and Vanessa Grant’s Writing Romance (I still read both once a year. My very good friend, Dawn Montgomery said to me once, “Never stop learning, Lexxie. Never stop learning.” And she’s so very right.)


Tip Four: Watch People


You’re not being a voyeur; you’re being a writer. Writers are observers of people. Our characters come from those around us (yes, even the soul-sucking demon who wants nothing more than to tear your hero apart). The tiniest glimpse of a couple smiling at each other can set off a story in your head before you even know its there. Oh, and carry a notebook with you at all times. You’ll be surprised how many times you’ll need it.


Tip Five: Join A Writers Group


Surround yourself with people who love writing as much as you do (preferably in the same genre if possible). Listen to them, share with them, support them, encourage them and reap the benefits. My first writers group introduced me to not only friends I now have for life, but opened up a wealth of information I didn’t know was out there, as well as gave me the chance to have someone apart from my husband read my work. If it wasn’t for that writers group, I never would have written and submitted my first novella to my very first publisher.


Tip Six: (Oops, wasn’t there only meant to be five?) Rejection Will Hurt


But it will never kill you. Don’t let a rejection letter from a publisher/editor or agent stop you. Put your manuscript aside, let it sleep for a while and then see if it deserves another go. And while it’s sleeping, start your next book.



One last quick word – accept you will be scoffed at, laughed at more than once. Writing is a wonderful wonderful career, but it’s not an easy one. But when you are laughed at don’t give up. Smile, nod, and get even later…some of my favourite villains are people who scoffed at my dream. And you know villains always get their comeuppance, right?



Doing Logan is out today!


Well, today US time. *grin* Which means as I’m writing this I still have about another 40 minutes to wait. *sigh*

I’m really excited about this quickie, I’m told by those that have read it that it’s super hawt and it’s the first contemporary I’ve released at Ellora’s Cave so I’ll be interested to see how it goes. So far I’ve had great success at EC and I’m hoping Logan receives the same.

Doing Logan by Rhian Cahill

Logan has been in love with Meredith for as long as he can remember. Seeing her with another had been its own brand of torture, but now that she’s free, nothing can stop him from claiming what is rightfully his.

The magnetism of Logan has never been lost on Meredith, but crossing the line between friend and lover scares her, even after dumping her slimeball ex. When Logan kisses her, an attraction like she’s never known ignites, sweeping her into an affair she can’t walk away from.

As Logan fights to win her heart, Meredith wages a battle of her own. Is she willing to admit her interest stretches way beyond merely doing Logan?


Meredith couldn’t believe they talked about the weather. She was trying to get up the courage to ask Logan inside for coffee and all that came out was “nice weather we’ve been having”. If it wouldn’t make her look more of a twit she’d slap herself upside the head. The closer they got to her house the more tense she became. It didn’t help that the man oozed sex. From the way he moved to the way he smelled, Logan Foster projected dark forbidden pleasure.

Over the years she’d found him attractive but ever since her world had turned upside down her body had gone on hyperalert whenever he was near. Meredith had never experienced this type of arousal before. Not even in the early days of her and Dirk’s relationship did she have this intense need burning through her. She licked her lips and fidgeted in her seat, squeezing her thighs together to ease her throbbing clit.

A groan drew her gaze to Logan. His fingers curled around the steering wheel in a death grip that bleached his knuckles white. The muscles and veins in his arms bulged and tension vibrated along his biceps until it reached his rigid shoulders. He was staring at her. His nostrils flared and he sucked in a deep breath.

“We’re here,” he ground out through his clenched jaw.

She hadn’t noticed the car stop, never mind that they’d arrived at her house. Logan’s gaze held hers captive and in the toffee brown depths she saw desire so great her insides shivered. No man had ever looked at her in quite that way and the nerve endings already sparking blazed to life. Heat rushed over her skin and she found it hard to catch her breath. Her mouth was dry and her tongue refused to form the words she longed to say.

Meredith knew it was now or never and she really didn’t want it to be the latter. Taking a deep breath, she licked her lips and mentally crossed her fingers.

“Would you like to come in for coffee?” A rush of air left her chest and she sagged back against her seat.

He didn’t answer—didn’t move—and Meredith feared she’d just made a complete fool of herself. Embarrassment bloomed and flooded her cheeks with warmth. She reached for the door handle, ready to bolt inside and hide until he drove away, but a hand on her arm stopped her before she could pop the latch.

“Look at me, Meredith.” His voice was scratchy, like gravel under boots.

His hand tugged her arm until she turned to face him. What she saw in his eyes sent her pulse racing and heat flaring in her belly.

“If I come in there, it won’t be for coffee. I’m too old for games so I’ll tell it to you straight. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” He leaned closer. “And if I come in for coffee I’ll have you.”

Hot breath fanned over her lips and Meredith couldn’t stop her tongue from slipping out to taste it. Logan made a strangled sound before his lips touched hers—a feather-like brush of flesh on flesh. He jerked back and let go of her arm. His pupils were so dilated there was no trace of their creamy brown color. She sat frozen in place, hypnotized by the look of want in his eyes.

With jerky movements, she yanked on the door handle and pushed it open, her gaze still locked with his. She swung her legs out of the low sports car until her sandals hit the ground. Not once did she look away. Feet firmly planted on the curb she stared at him for what seemed like hours but could only be seconds.

Meredith turned and pushed herself out of the seat. The black car so low to the ground she had to bend almost double to peer back inside.

“So, are you coming?”

Logan’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. Naked lust burned in his eyes and she was pleased he hadn’t missed her blatant doubleentendre. Straightening, she stepped back and closed the door. Unable to wait and see what he would do, Meredith headed up her front walk. The rumble of the engine behind her died and her heart skipped a beat before powering back at double speed. Gulping hard, she made her way to the door, one hand frantically searching for her keys in the bottom of her purse.

She fumbled the key in the lock as Logan joined her on the porch. The lock clicked and the door swung inward. They were a step apart as they passed the threshold. Meredith pulled the key free and tossed the key ring and her purse on the small entry table. With one hand on the door she turned and closed it.


There was no time to wonder what Logan was apologizing for. Her back hit the wall and his mouth slanted over hers. This kiss was nothing like the one in the car. Hot lashes of his tongue had her opening to him. He swept inside, touching, tasting, devouring. Wet velvet ribbons unfurled inside her and rolled out until every inch of her melted against his hard body. With lips, tongue and teeth he ate at her. Consumed her in a fiery lip-lock that incinerated all memory of previous kisses.




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