Dark Romance
Occasionally, I like to bounce ideas off my husband while I’m writing. He’s a good sport, and he has a lot of decent suggestions. Then…I started to write Motorcycle Club romances.“Hey honey, how many bullets are in a clip?”
“Bub, if you get shot, do you think you could still drive a bike?”
“Sweetie, how long do you think someone could hide a Meth addiction?”
Before my husband had me committed, he finally asked, “What the hell kind of romance are you writing?”
The best kind, I suppose?
I’ve never been a romantic person. No candlelight dinners or sonnets at my window; I prefer passion and excitement—any way I can get it. And dark Romances offer that tingly, dangerous excitement.
Passion comes in all forms. Fear, rage, injustice, desire. It’s a beautiful, powerful expression, and the best dark romance will recreate that passion in all forms. From capture fantasies to thrilling romantic suspense to even the darkest erotic romances—anything that challenges a reader to explore a side of the world, their personality, or their sexuality is an amazing expression of the romance genre.Love is the most powerful motivator and healer. Even the worst abuses, betrayals, and situations are tempered through the passion between the hero and heroine. That is why I love the genre. Call it a silver lining or the reluctant romantic in me, but the darker the romance, the greater the danger, the more powerful the book.
So, what are your favorite dark romances? What makes them so exciting?
Warlord by Lana Grayson
(Anathema #1)Publication date: November 28th 2014
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense
Goodreads: Click
The only thing more dangerous than the Anathema MC is the club’s president.
Trapped.
For twenty-one years, Rose Darnell’s family dedicated their lives to the Anathema MC. For twenty-one years, she’s searched for a way out.
Bound to a world of bloodied knuckles and drug money, Rose believes her musical talent will rescue her from an abusive father and overbearing brothers. A chance audition and promising gig would free Rose from the outlaw 1%, but her brothers won’t let her escape the club’s shadow.
A rival chapter threatens Rose, and only Anathema’s president, Thorne Radek, can protect her.
Betrayed.
A traitor lurks within Anathema’s brotherhood, and Thorne will burn the world to scorch the rat. When an innocent diva with baby-bunny eyes and dark secrets needs his help, Thorne offers his protection and is rewarded with the ultimate bait. He may be the only man to distract Rose from her music, but helping him find the traitor will damn more than the club.
It will tear her family apart.
“Why are you protecting me?” I hadn’t moved from the door. Thorne didn’t care. We both knew I didn’t have the courage to bolt. “Am I really in that much danger?”
He studied me. My freckles. The curls of my hair. My frantic breathing that wavered my chest and pushed it high as I savored a greedy breath of his scent. The masculine, leather and wind tease of his body suffocated me in heavy promise. The muscles of his arms tensed around me. What might have terrified me before now thrilled me with a freeing shiver.
No one would ever challenge this man and win.
He pushed away from the door with a scowl. He grabbed the gun from the table and tucked it in the holster around his waist.
“You better hope you’re not in as much trouble as I think you are.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He frowned. “Things are going to get real fucking messy, real quick.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Be glad you’re here. Believe it or not, I’m not fucking with you. I’d rather grab you now when I only have to wade through shit instead of saving your ass when we’re knee deep in blood.”
“And you think I’m going to be...what? Some sort of target?”
Thorne laughed. He grinned, the coldness of his smile binding me with lacey rime against the door.
“Target? Sweetheart, you’re the bait.”
He studied me. My freckles. The curls of my hair. My frantic breathing that wavered my chest and pushed it high as I savored a greedy breath of his scent. The masculine, leather and wind tease of his body suffocated me in heavy promise. The muscles of his arms tensed around me. What might have terrified me before now thrilled me with a freeing shiver.
No one would ever challenge this man and win.
He pushed away from the door with a scowl. He grabbed the gun from the table and tucked it in the holster around his waist.
“You better hope you’re not in as much trouble as I think you are.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He frowned. “Things are going to get real fucking messy, real quick.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Be glad you’re here. Believe it or not, I’m not fucking with you. I’d rather grab you now when I only have to wade through shit instead of saving your ass when we’re knee deep in blood.”
“And you think I’m going to be...what? Some sort of target?”
Thorne laughed. He grinned, the coldness of his smile binding me with lacey rime against the door.
“Target? Sweetheart, you’re the bait.”
Lana Grayson was born to write anything and everything to do with romance. Her favorite genres range from the dark and twisty to the lighthearted and sentimental—as long as the characters are memorable, the story is fun, and the romance is steamy. Lana lives in Pittsburgh with her husband, and, when she isn’t bundled in her writing chair, she’s most likely cheering on the Steelers or searching for the ‘Burgh’s best Italian restaurants.
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