Romance Meets Horror, or "Can You REALLY Be Nora Roberts and Stephen King At the Same Time?"

I'd like to start by thanking author Meljean Brook for the link to this Science Fiction Romance Online article by Joyce Ellen Armond. Armond has many good things to say about combining true horror with romance/eroticism. For example:

Author Mort Castle reminds horror writers, and now romantic horror writers, that, "When the ordinary is invaded by the terrifyingly extraordinary, horror happens." That's why in romantic horror, character and setting must be drawn as realistically as possible. If you want your readers to believe in, and be horrified by, your masked murderer who doesn't die, they first have to completely believe in your heroine, your hero, the street they live on, the taste of their coffee, the frost on their windowshield in the morning and how they're going to be late for work because they have to scrape it off, how there's a run in her pantyhose or pit stains on his white shirt -- all the details of their literary world must ring absolutely true, so that when you introduce the discordant note of the supernatural, it rings true by association. Stephen King is a master of creating a world that, if taken from the pages, could translate without hitch into reality. Except, of course, for the evil clown living in the sewers. When you read the premise of IT -- evil clown living in the sewers – you tend to laugh. Pshaw. How unbelievable. Evil clown, indeed. But King pulls his readers into the alternate reality of his story by making the characters and their secrets so real, and the town and the sewer underneath so believable, that when the evil clown comes along, the reader believes in that, too. As Mr. Castle says, "It's reality's 'what is,' not imagination's 'what if"' that can transform horror premise into horror story.

All I can say is YES. And YES again. And throw in a little blatant self-promo...

In writing my upcoming erotic horror release, "Moondance," I strove mightily to capture exactly what's described above -- that verisimilitude of mundane detail that makes the creepy shit kick the reader in the gut that much harder.

Armond goes on to say:

I think that the cornerstone of romantic horror is the premise that romantic love, complete with expressed sexuality, is the best weapon we have to defeat evil. Paula Guran believes that "the deeper, transformative aspects of sex are still taboo" in horror fiction, and in Western culture. When a heroine accepts the vampire's kiss, she's transported out of humanity. Even when she willingly bares her neck to her vampire lover, she's stepping outside of cultural norms and transforming our definition of what love and sex can be. I suppose the cynical path is open, and our monstrous heroes can be dismissed as just the ultimate "change the bad boy" fantasy. But I prefer the more romantic, and more introspective, perspective. Horror stories, from The Brothers Grimm to The Ring II, ultimately are about how we deal with Lovecraft's "weirdly horrible" situations that challenge our understanding of consensual reality. Fiction has pitted maternal love, fraternal love, love of country and love of deity against those challenges. It is the task of romantic horror to convince readers that romantic -- and erotic -- love is the best answer to fear. And to me, that's one of the most moral message we can send.

Amazing. I wish I'd read this article before writing "Moondance." I might not have struggled so much with the over-arching premise. Armond's nailed it -- the redemptive power of Eros in the face of paralyzing terror. Ultimately, it saves my heroine's sanity, and maybe her life.

Fascinated? Intrigued? Mildly interested and got ten minutes to kill? Check out my webpage for "Moondance," which will be released next week in ebook form by Phaze. (WARNING: site not necessarily work-friendly.)

Have a marvelous weekend!