There seems to be a rubric for writing sex in novels. I remember an obituary for Barbara Cartland. It said her heroines didn't have sex until the end of the novel - the glorious union, on her wedding night. I'm sorry but when has losing your first sexual experience been a glorious union? Two hapless virgins fumbling about like they're working out what the buttons do on a new toy. Men need to sow their oats a bit and read a few books, get some practice in before settling down to monogamy. And Alan isn't exactly Casanova. His lack of sexual prowess and experience is something my editor baulked at.
When I got my first sex scene back from the editor I wanted to puke. It came back full of slush, the two become one scenario, Alan filling her with his body and loving. The couple are pretty disconnected. He's rusty to say the least and is more shocked and bewildered by the invitation than about to become the next Casanova.
A lot of people say they like my book because the characters are real. I sacrifice the archetypical hero for realism, so the sex is also real. Not gimmicky, and there to give the reader a bit of sensationalism. It's there to reveal very human characters, who have their flaws, and crack up when under too much pressure.
Sex is something my characters have to work at. It's very lust driven but that doesn't mean it hits the spot every time. Over time they get better at it and learn how to become connected. A strong personal connection doesn't necessarily result in it being manifest in the physical side of the relationship. My characters move towards this as part of their journey.
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