So a question I am FREQUENTLY asked is whether Audible Originals forced me to include sex in THE BRIDGE KINGDOM or whether I felt that I needed to include sex in order for the novel to sell. The answer to both is a resounding NO. I asked my editor at Audible if they’d be okay with me including explicit content and she said, “Go for it!” And as far as it needing the content to sell, well… this novel sold to Audible based on the first 7 chapters, so clearly not. As to whether I believed it would increase the number of copies the novel sold… I mean, I’m not dumb — I know as well as the next person that sex sells. But that’s not why I included it. I wrote the scenes as they are because it felt true to the novel and because I wanted to. I love reading fantasy novels with good steamy scenes in them, and ultimately I want to write the same sort of content as I love to read.

 

One of the other comments I get is that readers wish I’d included MORE of these scenes. So let’s talk a bit about craft and why I chose not to have more sex scenes in this novel. All of this is my opinion based on what I enjoy as a reader/writer and is not criticism of the way other authors choose to structure their novels.

Everything I write has a lot of romance in it, but of all my novels, I’d say that THE BRIDGE KINGDOM has the most. While it certainly has a strong political plot arc, I’d argue that if you removed/trimmed the romance that it wouldn’t be much of a story. In fact, I’d argue that the romance is the dominant plot arc and the one that readers care about the most. Which means that the coming together moment, or the moment when Aren and Lara confess their love and all (or most) of the barriers between them being together have been destroyed, has to come toward the end of the novel. To do it sooner would mean that everything that came after would be hanging on the less compelling political plot and readers would lose interest.

 

Now this is a trope, but I like to have the sex occur at that “coming together moment” as sort of a physical symbol of what is happening to the characters emotionally. [Side note: this is fiction, not reality. Don’t @ me about how this isn’t how real life works]. The reason I like doing this is that when it comes to the sexy stuff, nothing packs the same punch as firsts. First kiss, first make-out session, first time having sex — those are the moments that readers of these sorts of books are clamoring for. The slow burn toward those moments is what has readers turning pages. And the moment you give them that big sex scene, the sexual tension — which for TBK is the dominant tension — gets cut in half. For that reason, I want to tie that big climax (lol) to the emotional climax of them coming together.

 

Now what about including sex scenes after the big coming together? Why not more of those? Well the deleted scene I’m going to share with you is one such scene. I kept it right until the last big round of edits because I liked it, but every time I read the novel, I knew in my gut that it was killing the pacing of the ending. And the reason for that was that it was purely gratuitous — it added nothing to the plot. Readers would know by that point that Lara and Aren were in love and super horny for each other. While it might be titillating, it only took away from the growing tension of the reader knowing that shit is about to hit the fan in Ithicana and that the relationship between Aren and Lara is about to implode.

 

Now without further adieu, here’s the deleted scene. I originally had more content with Lara and Aren living in Eranahl, and this was part of that. None of this went through copyedits, so excuse any typos/grammar errors, as well as continuity issues.

DELETED SCENE

All rational thought fell away the moment he opened the door and those azure eyes turned on him.

Even when she wore a tunic and trousers, the drab colors designed to blend into the jungle, her hair in a simple braid, Lara was beautiful. Tonight, with her waist length hair in loose coils held back by golden combs, face accented with cosmetics, her lithe body draped in a washed silk of blues and greens, she was stunning. Easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes on.

She swayed toward him, rising on her toes to kiss his lips, and the light caught on the golden powder dusting her cheeks. Likely real gold. And that silk? Probably from Amarid. His mood soured. “You’re going to have to start forgoing certain luxuries. Ithicana can’t afford to keep you in the style of a Maridrinian harem wife.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You asked me to bring this dress, Aren. I’d have been happy to leave it all behind at Midwatch.”

 Because she looked damnably stunning in them. Muttering several choice oaths at himself under his breath, Aren turned away from her, pouring himself a glass of water. Moments later, her hands were pressed against his shoulders, thumbs digging deep into his tight muscles. “Care to tell me what’s wrong? Because I suspect it isn’t related to my appearance.”

Guilt made him wish the water was something stronger, something that would wash away the sour taste. It was her first night in Eranahl, the city he loved more than anything in the world and would do anything to protect. He wanted her to love it in the same way, but instead he was quarrelling with her over nothing. “Administration. The past hours have reminded me why being at Midwatch is easier.”

“You’re constantly fighting when you are at Midwatch,” she replied. “Black and blue and covered with my stiches.”

“All of which is preferable to administration.”

“Mad man.”

Aren pulled her into his arms, kissing her, relishing the way her body pressed up against his, insistent. It made him want to peel the dress from her body and have his way with her, but the clock was chiming the hour and he wasn’t in the habit of making people wait on him.

With Lara’s hand resting on the crook of his arm, they walked through the corridors. She was several inches taller than normal due to the golden sandals she wore, the heels clicking on the stone. Her face was serene, but her fingers felt icy even through the fine linen of his shirt. “It’s only dinner,” he said.

“Is it?”

She was far too astute for her own good.

Or far too well trained.

Aren shoved away the thought.

“Many of my people, especially those of a certain generation, are unable to see Maridrinians as anything other than a faceless enemy. They remember the years of war and blockades before the treaty and how Ithicana suffered under them.”

“We were told Ithicana won that war.”

Aren laughed, though he felt no amusement. “Won? For two years, Maridrina enforced a blockade at Southwatch, preventing any merchant ships from accessing our markets. Traffic on the bridge dwindled to nothing, as did our revenues. With nothing to buy and nothing to buy it with, Ithicana suffered famine. Plague. Defection. Ending the war was half the reason my mother proposed the treaty.”

 “And the other half?”

“The other half is what she wanted to be her legacy.” He remembered the fervor in his mother’s eyes when she spoke of Ithicana’s future. “Maridrina’s people suffered under those blockades nearly as much as our own. Only your father’s sycophants supported their continuation, the rest of the people fighting and rioting for their end. You see, the Maridrinian people have never been our enemy, only their king.”

“And he remains so.” Lara’s words were clipped. Sharp. “Don’t you ever forget it.”

A humorless laugh dragged itself from his throat. “I won’t. But I also know he is only a man, and he won’t be king forever.” Stepping off the last stair, he steered her toward the clamor of voices and clinking glasses. “Very few Ithicanians have ever left our shores. Very few of them have ever met a Maridrinian. The result is that they believe your father is the sum of your people. I need you to help me change that. I need you to make them see that Maridrinians are not our enemies. To make them want more than just an alliance of paper and words between kings, but an alliance between our people. Because that’s the only way we’ll ever find peace.”

“I’m the worst choice for this, Aren.” She lowered her voice. “I was a spy.”

He watched to ensure no one was close enough to overhear. “There is more to be lost than gained in anyone else knowing that particular truth.”

Because they’d kill her if the truth ever came out. Not a clean death, but a traitor’s death. Dangled waist deep in chummed water like bait on a hook. Legend said that if the sharks let you be for a day and a night, you were true to Ithicana. Innocent. Aren had never seen anyone last more than an hour. 

“Aren…”

“It’s in the past. I need you for this, Lara. We’re at the cusp of either making an enormous step forward or falling right back on our old ways.”

“But this is only a dinner.” Her voice was dry, but the hand on his arm had gone from ice to flame, sweat from her palm dampening his shirt.

“Longing for Midwatch yet?”

Rolling her eyes at him once, she put a smile on her face, and together, they stepped into the dining room.

***

She had been right. It wasn’t just a dinner, and after it was over, Aren was finally able to admit to himself that he’d been bloody terrified about how Lara would conduct herself. Afraid she’d attempt to charm by being smooth and ingratiating, which rather than winning his people over, would’ve put them off entirely.

All his fears were for naught, for she’d been perfect.

And for Lara, perfect was being entirely herself. Brash and opinionated, as quick to anger as she was to laugh, she bantered her way into the good graces of each individual present by being wholly Maridrinian. Part of him wondered how it was possible, given she’d grown up in isolation, that she could so completely embody her people. Whether it was coincidence, design, or something in the blood.

Either way, by the time dinner had ended, his wine cellar was much depleted, but the influencers of Eranahl departed with laugher in their eyes and smiles on their faces. Leaving him alone, finally, with his lovely wife.

“Fancy a walk?” he asked.

She stretched, cat-like, and nodded. “Let me change my shoes.”

Pairing heavy Ithicanian boots with her Maridrinian gown, she allowed him to lead her by the hand through the winding paths and staircases of Eranahl, the night air thick with the scent of flowers in bloom, damp earth, and the ever-present tang of the sea. Faintly, Aren could make out the crisp scent of rain on the breeze, and as they made their way up past the outskirts of the city proper, his shoulders finally relaxed. “There’s a storm coming.”

Lara tilted her head back, regarding the black-velvet sky filled with diamond sparks of starlight, and cocked one eyebrow.

“You’ll see once we get to the top.”

Lara’s other eyebrow rose. “The top? You told me this was a walk, not a bloody hike.”

“Such language.” He smirked at her. “Does her ladyship need to be carried, or can she walk on her own two feet?”

“Carried.”

He laughed and kept walking, only to turn back to find her rooted on the spot. She smiled sweetly at him. “You did offer.”

“You will be the death of me, woman.” he growled, swinging her up into his arms.

The literal death of him, he thought when they were only halfway up the crater slope, his breath rapid pants, his shirt glued to his back. The path was all switchbacks and stairs, never mind that it was humid and hot as hell, and Lara smiled the entire time, the storm lantern swinging idly from the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his sweating neck.

Aren set her down with a graceless thud when he reached the top of the last flight of stairs, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Lara went to the lip of the crater and stood still, her slender figure outlined by moonlight. Far beyond and to the east, lightning danced through the darkness. Great multi-pronged bolts that illuminated both sea and sky, each more brilliant than the last, like great elemental gods in an escalating battle.

Aren peeled off his shirt and tossed it on a rock. “This is the highest point in Ithicana.” The breeze immediately cooled his skin, ruffling his hair with the promise of violent winds to come.

“It feels like the highest place in the world.”

Exhaling a soft chuckle, he shook his head, though she couldn’t see the motion. “Not even close. The mountains in the range that divides Amarid and Harendell are countless times higher.”

“You’ve seen them?”

“Yes.” Coming up behind her, Aren wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her against him. “I’ll take you some day.”

She said nothing.

“Things will change,” he said. “We only need to fight for that change.”

“I fear that people like my father will take advantage of the utopia you envision.”

“I don’t envision a utopia, Lara. Just something better.” Kissing her shoulder, he watched the storm racing toward them. “It’s past time we stopped allowing our enemies to dictate our lives and start living them for those we love. And for ourselves.”

“A dream.”

“Then make it reality.” Reaching into his trouser pockets, he extracted a small silken pouch. “I have something for you.”

Lara’s head turned, her eyes widening as he extracted the delicate links of gold, emeralds and black diamonds flashing in the lantern light. “You mentioned a fondness for green.”

Carefully, he brushed her hair to one side and fastened the necklace around her neck. “It was my mother’s. My father had it made for her years ago, and she almost never took it off. The servants found it in their rooms after–” He broke off, shaking his head to clear the emotion. “She always said it was meant to be worn.”

Lara trailed one finger down the gold and jewels, then pulled it away, her hand balling into a fist. “I can’t take this. Ahnna should have it.”

“Ahnna hates jewelry. And besides, you’re Queen of Ithicana. You’re the one who should wear it.”

Taking her hands in his, he lifted one and pointed it north, while at the same time pressing the fingers of her other hand against the large black diamond resting at the center of her collarbone, her pulse throbbing beneath. “Northwatch.” Then he moved down the necklace even as he drew her hand across the skyline, naming the larger islands as he went, knowing even in the darkness of night where every piece of his kingdom resided.

“Midwatch.” He paused there, kissing her shoulder, grazing his teeth against her neck, feeling her body hitch, then press against him, her head falling back against his shoulder. “Eranahl.” Their fingers trailed over the slope of her right breast, its rapid rise and fall making his body ache with need for her. He continued down the jeweled map, stopping at Southwatch, the emerald nestled in her cleavage.

“It’s yours,” he murmured into her ear. “Ithicana. Everything that I have is yours. To protect. To make better.”

“I will,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Turning in his arms, she rose on her toes and kissed him. Peeled the clothes from his body and her own, discarding them wherever they fell. Her lips were like fire on his skin, stoking his desire. Ratcheting up his need with every touch, every caress, until she pulled him down to the earth, her knees bare against the rock as she took him in. Claimed him. Possessed him. Bent him to her will.

Lightning flashed, illuminating her naked body, her face almost feral as it turned to the sky. To the rain that now fell, turning her skin slick and glistening. Like a tempest goddess, beautiful and deadly.

Her release tore at her like a wild creature, her body bucking, and it pulled him over the edge. He called her name, again and again with each surge of pleasure until he twisted, pressing her against the ground, his face buried in her neck. In her hair. In the sweet scent of her that haunted his dreams.

Because she was his queen, and no power on this earth would make him let her go.

Giveaway #3

To enter, answer at least one of this week’s discussion questions or ask me a question of your own. Then fill out this form. Open internationally. Closes at midnight on November 6th.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway