The Hero Side of the Story
Thanks for having me on Erotica For All! For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Skye Warren, author of dark erotica and erotic romance. I’m here today to chat with you about the hero point-of-view and to share my new release, Hear Me.
All of the books in the Dark Erotica series are written in POV of the heroine… usually deep first-person POV. This is necessary to present both the psychological aspect, as well as the suspense/thriller parts. Sometimes I wonder: what would be different if we could see through the eyes of these men?
After all, these aren’t ordinary heroes, ordinary men. They’re anti-heroes. Dangerous, mysterious. Occasionally even cruel.
On the one hand, maybe it would make a hero more sympathetic if we could get inside their head, see them look at the heroine and think God, she’s beautiful, I know I don’t deserve her, but I have to have her. Or maybe we want to hear the childhood that made him this way or whatever dire circumstances led him into this situation, where he needs to consort with criminals, where he feels like he can’t rise above it.
It makes sense that would help. We can also do such things as have him save a kitten… I joke, but as a reader I enjoy seeing the softer side of a man J
I think, though, just as easily this can backfire. That sob story in his past can seem like an excuse, and then the reader is in the position of weighing the cause to the effect. The self-recriminations can be all too accurate, and the reader can be there saying yeah, jackass, leave her alone. It happens even in standard romance fare. There’s even a name for this type of hero, the alpha-hole. Overbearing, undesirable.
And I’m not even writing standard romance fare, I’m writing dark erotica. Readers want their boundaries to be pushed, they want to feel a little fear, a little pain… okay, maybe a lot.
One theme common to my books is redemption—definitely redemption for the heroine. I wonder about my heroes, are they redeemable? I want my readers to wonder that too.
It’s nice when the answer is yes. Yes, this hero is redeemable. I can understand where he’s coming from, and I like him, I love him, I desire him.
But that’s not very subversive, is it? That’s not very dark.
So sometimes I don’t try to make my hero understandable, relatable. Sometimes I don’t bother making him redeemable. His presentation is matter-of-fact: this is what he does, this is who he is. The hero is not only dangerous, but unapologetic. You might even say he’s masterful.
I’m not going to lie… sometimes it makes me hot.
If it makes you hot too, I think you’ll enjoy Hear Me, which follows a woman as she escapes from captivity and falls into the care of a man who is… kind? Dangerous? Redeemable? You’ll have to read to find out.
Her training wasn’t about how to stand or to suck, not really. She had become an expert at reading expressions, at decoding body language. He was a formidable cipher, but she only needed time.
Meanwhile, she knew well enough what those heavy lids and flattened lips meant. She saw the tinge of red on his cheeks. All of that would have told her, even if she hadn’t seen the bulge in his wet jeans. He wanted to take her and this time, it wasn’t in his sleep. It wasn’t in some awkward moment, born of pity—no. He had initiated this. He had brought her to this magical place. No dream.
He seemed to like her forwardness, like a release valve to the curious guilt he had about her status, so she tentatively reached up to sweep a wet lock of hair from his forehead. He remained still for her touch, his expression one of approving forbearance. But when she went to stroke down his neck, he caught her wrist.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to say no if you don’t want it too. I’m afraid you can’t. If I were better—stronger—I wouldn’t even make you choose, but I…” He sighed. The moisture in the air beaded on his eyelashes. “It’s been so long. I’ve waited so long.”
He pulled her in deeper, until the water climbed her thighs and lapped at her cunt. They followed the wall of the cave until it opened up onto a small beach that was completely enclosed by cool stone and reflective water. Barely enough place for both of them, but she knew that was the point. Here even the white noise of the water was reduced, and all she could hear was her breath and his.
“I never imagined a submissive as perfect as you,” he said lowly, but the words were as commanding as she’d ever heard him. “I keep thinking you’re not real, that I’ll wake up and find myself alone again. But this isn’t real, is it? You aren’t really like this. They made you this way.”
Don’t make me think about it. Just want me.
“Jesus Christ,” he said. “When you look at me, so damn trusting. It’s not right. I know that, but I can’t stop. Will you let me, subby? Can I hurt you?”
She doesn’t remember her past, only her training. She can’t talk, not that a good slave should speak out of turn. None of that matters when she wakes up in the warm, rustic room. Her new master is distant but kind. There’s only one problem: he doesn’t want her.
Longing for the shackles of safety, she pulls from the last dregs of her will to prove her worth as a slave. It seems to be working. He responds first to her body and next to her submission. The secrets of his past haunt the cabin, fraying the tightening bond between Master and slave, but it is her own memories that may finally unravel it.
This book contains a bonus short story Escape, set in the same dark erotica world.
This book contains explicit scenes of sex, including dubious consent and captivity situations. The BDSM does not conform to literary conventions, making it sometimes more realistic, and other times not. This is a work of fiction not appropriate for anyone uncomfortable with these situations or anyone under the age of eighteen.
Skye Warren writes unapologetic erotica, where pain and sex and love collide. She has been called “a true mistress of dark and twisted erotica” and her dark erotica series has reached the bestseller lists at Amazon and been a Night Owl Reviews Top Pick.