Farting God Goats

I'll confess right off the bat: I can't stand to write anything but a HEA. Go on, I challenge you. Go and find one of my stories that ends on something other than a HEA. Hang on- I'll save you the slog through my insane backlist.

There isn't one. Pretty sure. And I'm only pretty sure because this revelation came to me like a thunderbolt of weird farted out of God's butt. I hadn't even really thought about it before, but it's true. I love love love giving my characters a happily ever after.

I don't even know why! It's the weirdest thing. I don't need my erotic romance novels to have a HEA. I'm quite happy for Cathy and Heathcliff to die and be ghosts and for Mr Rochester to only have one eye at the end or worse. Hell, he could have no penis and be in love with a goat at the end of Jane Eyre. I'd still adore the book.

In fact, I quite like sharp, cruel, even brutal endings to my erotic romance and erotica. A menage that's turned disastrous - because let's face it, most of them would in reality - a hot slutty romance that went sour, a man's love for his goat going horribly, horribly wrong. I can totally get into all of those things. Except for that weird goat theme I seem to be on.

But in my own writing, it's a different story. I think I crave a HEA. Even if the world's exploded because God farted on everybody (theme two), I like my hero and heroine to ride off into the - admittedly sometimes awkward - sunset together.

Maybe zombies just ate the hero's face. Could be that the heroine actually secretly has a love child with an alien warrior from the planet Blargon. Possibly that menage they've just had turns out to be fraught with jealousy and insecurities and a lack of proper etiquette. I mean, everybody knows you're supposed to say "and now I believe it is your turn, good sir". Right?

Totally.

But either and all ways, the hero and heroine love each other at the end. And I think it comes back to that oceans of time believe in the power of love Jennifer Rush is singing thing that I just can't shake. I love my characters. I want them to cross oceans of time for each other. I want them to find in each other the happiness that the world so often denies them. And probably in some syke-olojeecal ishews sort of way, the happiness it often denies me.

The world is cruel enough. Let them have love. That's what my HEAs are about.

Or maybe they're just about God farting, I dunno.