P is for Poop

Yes, Poop.

Heroes and heroines of romance do not have any embarrassing bodily functions.  They never smell bad, pass gas, squirt milk out their noses, etc...  Even in the steamy scenes where sweat and bodily fluids are abundant, everything is very clean and, to quote myself, "smells like apples."

Break me not in your haste, for I to none would give distaste

When I wrote my first draft of my first ms, my heroine was a 7/10, attractive but not stunning.  She drooled on herself when she fell asleep in a carriage.  She threw up when she had to much to drink.  This did not fly with my beta readers and she became a perfect 10 and did not drool.  I did, however, keep the puke scene (it was comic relief).

This sets a really unnatural standard for what is sexy.  Seriously, I was uncomfortable passing gas in front of my husband (who did not have the same qualms) until I was so pregnant I couldn't control it.  When we started sharing a bed, I would get up early to use the bathroom, re-deoderize, and brush my teeth so I didn't have morning breath when I woke up in his arms.  Maybe I was a little obsessive in this, but I have a feeling many other people did the similar weird things to disguise the fact that they were, in fact, human.

In honor of realism, I have written a short scene that you will never see in a romance.  Enjoy.

Frances straightened her dressing gown as she stepped out from behind the privacy screen and crossed to the ewer. Pouring the tepid water into the basin, she lathered her hands with the lavender soap. Henry was still in a daze, lying replete across their bed. She hoped he would fall back asleep rather than…

“God’s teeth, woman! Did that unholy stench come from you?”

Frances grimaced. “I pray your pardon, husband. I think me that last night’s boar was undercooked.”

Henry sat up, ineffectively shielding his nose with his hand. “It still amazes me that such a beautiful woman can create such ungodly odors.”

Frances merely shrugged. “I am a human, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Henry stood and walked toward her, the glow from the hearth turning the hard planes of his bare chest into liquid gold. “There is so much about your human attributes I very much appreciate.”

He drew aside the silk of her dressing gown, exposing one shoulder. Leaning forward, he lightly nipped, then planted one searing kiss on her skin.

She shivered in spite of the heat and pressed towards him, her lips on his neck then to his ear lobe.

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “Frances…”

His words were interrupted by a drawn out sound of thunder crack, then three smaller fizzes as Henry’s flatulence echoed throughout the chamber. “Now it is I who must beg forgiveness. Perhaps the boar is not sitting well with me.”

Frances gagged as the stink assaulted her and covered her face with her hands, breathing in the lingering scent of lavender soap. “There is naught to forgive. You are human as well.”