Heigh ho! Madeline Iva here. I’m off for the this week, but Adriana Anders is ready to get down and dirty with you about illicit holiday fun. Here she is —
What is it about the holidays that gets our blood boiling? Is it the eggnog or the mistletoe? Perhaps that end-of-year kiss or the pressure to get ‘er done before the apple drops? Whatever the case may be, when it comes to holiday reads, I want them steamy. Actually, let’s make that filthy.
I’ve always had this illicit sex fantasy—stemming, perhaps from early games of spin-the-bottle or seven minutes in heaven?—in which I’m not entirely responsible for my actions.
A languorous morning, a half-asleep kiss, where you’re not yet all there and dreams wend their way into reality. And the best part is that the holiday season demands it. When else do heroes and heroines find themselves trapped in a snow-bound cottage, with nothing to do but snog? What other occasions warrant stripping down to warm up by the fire? And there’s the mistletoe! Mistletoe, for goodness’ sake—it’s hanging right there, lewd and ripe with suggestion, begging us to slip some tongue.
But what about summer romance? Three months of warm lovin’ in the surf must surely trump one hot night in a remote chalet? Languorous lays on the beach, full of sun, sand and sex. Well, yeah, but you’ve got all summer—that’s what long, slow seductions are for. But, baby, it’s cold outside! There’s nothing dirtier than a little coercion—if you don’t do it, you’ll die! The storm made me do it!
I recently had the pleasure of reading Meg Maguire’s fab Holiday novella, Playing Games (Wild Holiday Nights Anthology), in which an unexpected Christmas Eve blizzard forces two unlikely people to share a car—and eventually a bed. (Madeline Iva recommended this book here). And, man, does that storm heat things up. It’s more than tight spaces, though, that the characters share, and that’s really the secret to a great holiday romance. Maguire’s couple drags out hidden foibles, hurts and past insults. As always, their intimacy brings so much more than just orgasms. She’s an expert at this scenario, by the way, which might be one of the reasons I can never get enough of her books—see Thank you for Riding, in which a man and woman are locked in a train station over night.
I also read a wonderful, fluffy little bon-bon of a Christmas short, Snow and Love, by fellow Virginian Callie Russell. The couple was forced to spend the night together in a sleeping bag—their survival depended on it—and boy did that make for some sexy times.
With the threat of death hanging over your head, why everything is heightened… What if this is your last opportunity? Oh, the chills! The holiday chills! Whatever the excuse, I love these stories, adore the premise and, even better, enjoy that it only comes once a year.
Give yourself the gift that keeps on giving: follow Lady Smut.