Why We Love
(and Love to Write) Paranormal Romance
Hi guys, I’m Ronelle Antoinette, author of the
fantasy-romance series, Elemental Trials.
As a reader, and more recently, writer, I’ve worshiped at the altar of
paranormal romance for most of my life—or at least since my mom started letting
me choose my own books—so that’s what I wanted to talk about today.
Vampires (those that sparkle and those that don’t),
werewolves/shifters, angels, demons, spirits, magic… I’ll be the first to admit
that there’s something darkly sexy about the paranormal. (Why do you think I
wrote “Errant Spark” and “Flash
Point”?) Mash it up with a steamy romance and you’ve got yourself a winner
by the standards of many a reader. People have been fascinated for centuries
and the idea of a passionate fling with an otherworldly being isn’t new,
either. The Fae, in one guise or another, have been seducing mortals in stories
for ages now. But what exactly is it
about these situations and creatures that appeal to readers and authors alike?
Feel Free to Suspend Your Disbelief
Since there’s a high level of
either fantasy or sci-fi in paranormal romance, as a reader it’s easier not to
nitpick the details. You are, after all, in someone else’s world, playing by
their rules, tagging along with their characters. So what if the hero is a bloodsucking,
shapeshifting, undead Roman soldier? He’s a hottie with aphrodisiac venom! It’s
not like there’s any ‘real world’ parallel with which to compare and/or pick
apart for discrepancies. We’re able to stay immersed in the story without our
inner cynic wondering just how in Hades that
wouldn’t have long-lasting consequences. This is something other romantic
subgenres just can’t get away with.
As an author, that willingness to ‘go with it’ is freeing. It gives us
room to explore our own realm without biting our nails to the quick over
whether anyone actually wore a corset
as a stand-alone article of clothing. We get to create, to play, to really let
our imaginations go crazy with the comfortable-ish knowledge that no one cares
that nothing resembling a zeppelin existed pre-1800. If we want our heroine to
fight the forces of evil with a werewolf army and her Fae lover, then they
will. If we think this guy should be a dragon-shifter who loves the violin,
then he is. The result of this kind of indulgence is often beautiful worlds,
complex plots, strong relationships, and deep characters. It’s just plain magical—pun
intended.
Enter the
Physics Free Zone
This one’s a biggie. Seriously, have you ever had your skin punctured by
something? I don’t care how small the needle is or how pointy your baby
brother’s teeth were, it flippin hurts! Can
you imagine how much worse it would be to have a grown human’s jaw close
tightly enough on your neck for their teeth to draw a flow of blood? Oh, and
vampires are dead. Have you ever smelled a dead body? Also, necrophilia. And
don’t get me started on the excruciating pain and probably permanent
disfigurement caused by repeatedly having your body change size and shape.
*shudder*
But if we cared about any of that, no one, aside from some extreme
fetishists, would read (let alone be turned on by) paranormal romance. Most of
us, in fact, would scream like twelve-year-old girls and run the other way.
Instead, we find the idea of being bitten by a vampire, shacking up with a
werewolf, or going to bed with a member of a fairy court quite appealing. Why?
Because of the spin. Authors don’t focus on real world physics in this genre,
but rather the eroticism of touch, power, mystery, and a touch of awe and fear.
Also, giving the creatures of the night superhuman powers in the sack doesn’t
hurt, either.
Why Not?
This was the question that got my Elemental
Trials series started. Anything can
happen in paranormal fiction (like the realm of Oblivion). Everyone
has their own space and those spaces coexist to such an extent that what
happens in one has no bearing on another, and the whole place doesn’t implode
from sheer diversity. In fiction, fairies are real and unaffected by our belief
or lack thereof. Magic works, all gods and none exist, human bodies can shift
to another form, things other than the Galapagos Tortoise can live for hundreds
of years…you get the point. Here, we can have complete and utter freedom, even
from our own inner skeptic.
As
humans in the real, everyday world, we know the need for love, for passion, for
excitement. Whether those needs are met by a flesh-and-blood person has no
bearing on our attraction to romantic fiction, though, because we have and
always will live in our heads to some extent. Romance, and especially paranormal
romance, is a safe place where we can explore what peels our bananas (or
doesn’t) without the involvement of others—or their judgements. It’s also just
as much an escape from reality. That escape allows us to go anywhere regardless
of it having existed for realsies, be anyone without the need for pesky things
like food or sunlight, and love whomever and however we choose without care for
race, gender, allegiance, or furriness
I don’t think there’s been much, if any,
specific scientific research done on this topic, because, well, AIDS and cancer
and vacuuming robots, but what are the things you love
Flash Point
Elemental Trials
Book Two
Ronelle Antoinette
Genre: fantasy romance
Publisher: Ronelle Antoinette
Date of Publication: 7/7/17
ISBN: 1537201891
ASIN: B072JNPYZ4
Number of pages: 320
Word Count: approx. 92,000
Cover Artist: Mar Fandos
Tagline: The choices of a few will ignite a realm
Book Description:
Scandal will shake foundations.
A night of careless passion leaves Battlemage Jex Xander and Adept Enari Alycon in a precarious position. Long-time lovers they might be, but the Imperial ambassador and the daughter of Egalion’s High Mage have rather public roles in the court—whether they wish it or not—and scandal couldn’t come at a worse time.
Treachery will tip balances.
When a hostile kingdom reluctantly agrees to parley, the fate of two-thousand years of peace is on the line. In the midst of negotiations, Enari becomes the target of one of the Greater Maelstrom. She and Jex must race against time to save her life and that of her unborn child. What happens when an earth-shattering secret, a demon bent on destruction, and a kingdom teetering on the brink of war collide is anyone’s guess.
Choices will have consequences.
The decisions of a few will determine the fate of many, and who or what will remain standing in the end is still uncertain. Hearts and lives are on the cusp of irrevocable change…and not necessarily for the better.
And secrets? Those will change everything.
Excerpt:
Enari Alycon and
Jex Xander were the last two mages to enter the shadowed chamber.
She hesitated on
the threshold, instinct making her clutch his hand as her eyes struggled to
pierce the darkness. The single tapers that stood to either side of the altar
were small and insufficient to dispel the thick gloom. Dizziness and nausea
overcame her as the strong incense permeated her lungs. The room felt
oppressive, claustrophobic, and her mind screamed at her to retreat.
Jex’s hand
closed around her wrist in warning.
“Remember,” he
whispered, “once we step inside, you’ll need to remain absolutely silent until
the ceremony is complete. No matter what happens, do not make a sound,
understand?”
His breath was
warm and the soft kiss he pressed to her temple made her shiver. She nodded and
hesitantly followed her Chosen inside.
He closed the
door behind them. The soft boom reminded her of the latch on the door to the
Hall of the Dead; solid and inexorable.
Final.
Jex led her up
the aisle at a slow and measured pace, their steps muffled more than they
should have been in the stone chamber. The shadows seemed to whisper words too
soft to discern, a dark susurration against her senses. The sensation was like
cobwebs and moth wings and the touch of a burial shroud all mixed together.
After passing
the last row of benches and their silent occupants, Enari discovered that what
she had originally taken for a shadow cast by the altar was instead a large,
smooth-edged opening in the floor. Her Chosen’s hands guiding her with confidence
as he directed her to kneel, adjusted the fall of her skirt, and placed her
hands in her lap. He cupped the back of her head and tilted it forward until
all she could see were the stones beneath her knees and that yawning pit. The
touch withdrew and she heard the rustle of his robes as he took his place
behind her.
It was only at
this angle she saw the faint reflection of candlelight in dark water. A pool
then, and not an empty well as she first assumed.
The realization
was not as comforting as it should have been.
“Enari Alycon,
daughter of Eryk Alycon and Tanith Hithaerien, today is the day of your
Ascension. You have entered this chamber in a state of flux, tempered from
apprenticeship but not yet forged as an adept. You are Initiate, the in-between.”
The deep, strong voice of her father issued from within the dark cowl of the
figure in front of her. “As those who came before were tried, so you shall be.
Who among you will stand witness?”
Enari was
confused. What trial? Hadn’t she passed all the tests the week before? She’d
thought the Rite of Ascension a mere formality, if a secret one, but now it
sounded that assumption had been incorrect.
“We will,” came
the unified and ringing response from those seated behind her.
Enari shivered
again, cognizant of the power behind the declaration. The touch of their voices
was the only warmth in this brooding place and she was grateful for it.
“And who among
you will hold the door for her?”
“I will,” Jex
confirmed, his voice strong and certain.
“Then let it
be.”
Her father
turned to the altar and picked up the metal fragment. Motioning for Jex to step
forward, he pressed the weapon into his hand.
Enari watched
from beneath her lashes without raising her head, seeing the glimmer of
candle-flame slide along the razor’s edge.
Her Chosen went
to his knees in front of her. He raised the shard, letting her examine it for a
heartbeat or two, then used the blade to cut her palm and his own. Enari winced
at the line of pain that blazed across her skin, biting back a hiss just in
time to keep from breaking the mandate of silence. Jex pressed their weeping
palms together and laced his fingers through hers.
She could almost
taste her own dread now, bitter as a mouthful of lemon rind.
“Blood to blood
and gift to gift,” Jex intoned, “I lend you my strength for the test ahead. I
will hold the door so you may pass and may it be with joy that I close it after
your return.” There was a hint of fear in his emerald eyes as he spoke the
final words.
“Initiate, it is time for you to face The Pool
and The Dweller below,” her father announced.
Sweat broke out
across her forehead and the back of her neck as her eyes settled on The Pool.
Jex rose to his
feet, fingers still twined with hers, and she balked, not wanting to go any nearer
to that still and menacing water. He reached behind her and seized her belt,
forcing her up and forward. His hand remained at the small of her back to hold
her in place once they stood at the very lip of The Pool.
Her stomach
knotted and a slithering nausea twisted its greasy fingers around her throat.
She swallowed hard and tasted bile.
Jex put his
mouth against her ear and began to speak.
“We have to
lower you into the water. Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and don’t be
afraid. It’ll be over before you know it.”
She turned to
him, shaking her head. More than anything, she did not want to let that black
water touch her. Blue eyes met green and she pled the only way she could.
His expression
went flat and his voice hardened. “You asked me to serve as your Chosen. Let me
do my duty.”
“Be silent!” the
High Mage barked.
Jex gave him a
dirty look, but nodded once and the two men took hold of her, each putting a
hand under one of her arms and grasping her hands in theirs. With agonizing
slowness, they began to lower her.
The first shock
of bitter cold stole her breath.
As the velvet of
her robe became wet, it dragged on her and clung to her legs. She kicked,
trying to free her feet but the heavy fabric stuck fast.
Before she was
half-submerged, she started to tremble. The water felt just short of freezing
solid and had a slimy quality that disgusted her.
Soon, only her
head remained clear and Jex was crouching at her side, still gripping her
bloody hand. His other settled on her hair.
“Deep breath,
now,” he directed.
And before she
could even think to scream, he jerked his hand free of hers and thrust her head
beneath the surface.
About the Author:
Ronelle Antoinette lives in western Colorado with her husband, two cats, and one dog-who-believes-he's-a-person. While she is a mother to none, she’s an auntie to what should qualify as a small army. She is an admitted caffeine addict, chocoholic, and hopeless romantic who has carried on a passionate affair with the genre of fantasy since she was old enough to read 'chapter books'. She dabbled in creative writing for many years and even considered it as a major in college. (She ended up getting a Bachelor's degree in Counseling Psychology.) She published her first novel, Errant Spark, in July of 2016.
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Thank you for being part of my release tour, and for hosting this article!
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