Well maybe not with Cliff Richard, although my mum had a huge crush on him… But I’m a fan of getting jiggy on the dance floor so yeah baby, I wanna dance. And I don’t mind at all if my hero wants to dance with me. But in the romance world, unless you’re Magic Mike, dancing doesn’t seem to be the done thing.
One of my critique partners told me I shouldn’t let my hero dance at all. “It’s too girly. Or too gay. It’s too… something anyways.” I beg to differ. When you’ve got a good thing, a good, hot, sweaty muscled thing, there’s no too much about it. Is there?
Sure, in the category romance world a gay dancing hero isn’t going to get too far, but there’s plenty to dancing that’s above and beyond the sexuality of its participants. There’s plenty to putting a body in motion that’s hot. Damn hot. There’s the thrill of your brain releasing itself to music, dropping your head back and letting yourself roar out the words to your favorite song as you spin round the room. There’s the shiver of someone’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you closer, tucking you tight into their groin as you sway into the beat. There’s the sheen of sweat on hot skin after the dancing reaches its peak. And if you’re lucky, or just feisty, dancing standing upright leads directly to leg spreading, gut wrenching climax.
I like my heroes to dance. I like them to dance with me. Channing Tatum sure gets my poetry in motion vote and that was before Magic Mike.
In The Boss and Her Billionaire, my recent release, Investment billionaire Dylan Johns is also a dancer. But one who always gets what he wants. He is used to giving orders—not taking them—until he’s forced to go on hiatus from his investment company. To bide his time and carry out an old dream, he takes a job on a cruise ship—and ends up taking orders from his gorgeous, but uptight, new boss. He is determined to loosen her up with a fun onboard romance, but their no-strings fling turns serious and Dylan is forced to confess his lies.
Cruise director Michaela Western has everything she wants—everything except a sex life. But there are no secrets on cruise ships. She risked her job once for a dalliance with the Captain, and won’t do it again for a few minutes of toe-curling pleasure. Until devilishly handsome Dylan with a body made for sin tempts her to walk on the wild side…
They’re Dylan’s dancing biceps on the cover. Don’t look very girly to me. In fact I don’t think you’d hear me complaining at all if he tried to dance with me. What do you think? Can you ever really get too much of a good thing? And what about dancing or dancers? When do they work in contemporary romance and when should they hang up their shoes?
The Boss and Her Billionaire is available as an e-book now
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