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  • Writer's pictureEdie Montreux

Things That Make Me Smile

I found a Harry Potter meme on Facebook this weekend, and it made me smile.

Lily Allen’s song, “Smile,” reminds me of my ex…

I love that she uses fuck in the correct context. I definitely tried to keep it to “for unlawful carnal knowledge” in my fantasy novels. Not so much in the blog, and not so much in contemporary romance. I use fuck as much as I fucking want, because it sounds right. When it sounds right, it makes me smile.

Talking about sex usually makes me smile, but something’s been bothering me about M/M sex scenes. This is a personal preference, and believe me, I’m still going to read the fuck out of every novel I find, so please, writers, don’t be offended. This isn’t a deal breaker, and it won’t change my five star rating on Good Reads to a four, but it pulls me out of the story, which I hate.


It seems really clunky and off-putting when authors identify the romantic partner with, “the other man.” That dude has a name. I get it, it’s harder with two dudes. You can’t use pronouns because they’re both he. Which he is doing the deed and which he is receiving it? Who the fuck knows. That’s why they have names. If they haven’t exchanged names, give your characters that first human quality: we name shit. Remember the story of Adam and Eve? Before they found the serpent in the tree, they named everything in the garden.

For example, let’s say our main character, Bruce, meets a guy at a bar and drags him to the bathroom after a hot grind on the dance floor. Bruce’s fling is his usual type: almost Bruce’s height, blond, green eyes, swimmer’s body. Something must set him apart, right? Make him special?

Ouch. “What the fuck?” The little fucker nipped his collar bone when Bruce was trying to find that something special. Well, yeah, that made him special in a not-so-great way. Bruce hated biters. They reminded him of teacup poodles. Ooh, but the tongue lave after the bite made it all better. Damn. Teacup found that spot behind Bruce’s ear, and this time, Bruce expected the pinch of his flesh, sending the following whisper of breath straight to his groin. His cock pulsed against his tight jeans, and he moaned as Teacup put his mouth to better use and kissed him, hard, no teeth. Teacup kissed well enough that Bruce had to ask, as they were ripping at each other’s clothes, “Name?
“Curt.” Like the sharp, staccato nips to his neck. Curt would do for tonight, and maybe all weekend, if Bruce so chose.

Okay, so that’s a mediocre example, but I didn’t toss you out of the story with “the other man.” Names are good. Names make me smile. 

How about a song with a name? “Alfie,” by Lily Allen, about her brother.

You might recognize him…

Too bad. Theon Greyjoy memes (any Game of Thrones memes, really) also make me smile.

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