Pavlov-wise, anything of an erotic nature is going to tend to lead to obsession. It's as simple as A-B-C; if something feels good, you will try to repeat it. The repetition reinforces the association of that act with pleasure, and there you are: obsessed.

This is the simple psychological explanation for a lot of things in your life and even more in mine. If you read a lot of romance and/or erotica, this is why (and it's why I like to write both). It's also why many of us have folders full of images on our computers labeled "Robert Pattinson" or "Peter Petrelli." It explains our hobbies, where we expend our free time, how we rank our priorities, and so on. And sometimes, you and I ask ourselves, "Am I obsessed?"

I don't know about other erotic romance authors, but in my world, the stories always start with a guy. A guy whose personality, demeanor, appearance, character...oh, let's cut to the chase, a guy who turns me on.

Only occasionally do I think, "Oh now here's a cool plot line with all kinds of erotic possibilities I could develop." Nope, it starts with a guy. A guy I can't resist, a guy who makes my heart flutter, a guy I would love to take me to bed. So where do I find these sexy heroes?

One of my most popular columns here on Novelspot was my essay "Shirtless or Naked?" So obviously people enjoy having these terse, racy questions posed of them. It occurred to me this morning that there is another terse, racy question we might enjoy asking ourselves, and that is...

Sex or kisses?

I think we can bet what the average guy will say to that, but the average woman, well, that's hard to say. I'm not even sure how to answer the question myself. There are so many ways to look at it. Okay, let's try some of the ways:

If you ask a writer of erotic romance if there's any way to come up with a story all readers will love, she'll tell you--no way. Reading is always a matter of taste, and of all the fiction genres, there's nowhere that is more true than in erotica. That said, in my experience there may be one exception to the "matter of taste" principle: it seems to help if the sex comes from the heart.

What do I mean by that? Well, I've published three novels and thirty-five novellas and short stories, and it's interesting which of the tales seem to have the greatest impact and get the most fan mail. They are the ones that I sat down and wrote for myself, out of passion, not necessarily even thinking about anyone but the hero and myself.

Fortunately for you, dear reader, my family members never read this particular column of mine, so I can pretty much be candid with you and bar no holds. Because face it, it would be a little weird to read about your mom or daughter as a thirteen-year-old girl writing erotic fiction.

Well, I suppose I was bound to start at that age. I was a fiction writer from the time I could write in cursive, and at thirteen I passed puberty. Hand paper and pen to me, throw hormones in the mix, and what are you going to get? Erotic fiction.

Many a time I've talked about the challenges of writing erotic romance when you are simply not in the mood. It's no different then when your significant other gets that look in his eye and you just don't think you can comply tonight. (Fortunately, your computer will not be as disappointed as your significant other.) Having written several dozen spicy stories and novellas, I about a year ago I found myself very happy to be writing in a genre that didn't require me to find a way to work in a sex scene on a regular basis.

…to write your erotic romance, that is. To put it another way, at what age is a woman best suited to write about sex?

If you happen to be aware that yours truly is 51, you're no doubt expecting me to make a case for "cougars." Older women indeed have a lot of credentials when it comes to a full understanding of the erotic. We've experienced it all: Stage 1, when sex still seems a little creepy but it's starting to appeal for some mysterious reason. Stage 2, when your shyness and squeamishness is past, but you haven't sorted out yet what you need to feel emotionally before you want to be intimate. Stage 3, when love and sex come together and actually, wonderfully, work in tandem to bring you joy. Stage 4, when you find yourself thinking about sex all the time and looking at males with a new appreciation. Stage 5, when other aspects of life become more important than sex and you wonder if your libido is in trouble.

I’m not really saying men can’t write about sex. I’ve probably read twice as many sex scenes written by men as by women, and very rarely said about them, “well, that sure was a poorly written love scene!” It’s just that, generally speaking, men describe sex in a very different manner than women do, and it’s from a very male perspective. Well, they’re guys, who can blame them?

I typically get the sense from these scenes that for males, sex is a reward unto itself. That is, simply getting to have it is great enough. That makes sense, I guess, in view of the fact that for guys, having sex is pretty much inherently fun, whereas for women, it can fall anywhere in a spectrum from nightmarish to glorious. Consequently, in order to judge the point of the sex in fiction, women need more information as to what went down and how it felt, and even what it meant to the participants.

When it comes to erotic romance, are you a city mouse or a country mouse? That is, what turns you on more, an urban setting or the charms of nature?

It’s an interesting question, and your preferences in fiction probably hinge more upon the matter than you realize. Personally, I can see certain advantages to both types of locales. And it’s fun to consider what each has to offer, seduction-wise.

Well, readers...I post this month from my recovery room at home, where I am nursing myself back to health from a gall bladder disaster and the resultant emergency surgery. You know you're in a bad way when your surgeon tells you, "No sex till further notice" and you don't mind hearing it!

But the show must go on for Diana Laurence, and therefore it seemed a good time to post about the flip side of erotica: not being in the mood.

So I thought I would update you on the situation. Almost a year later, what's bringing people to my blog these days? Well, the answer is not shirtless, or naked...it's (wait for it)...

Erotica...and the holidays...is there any way these two themes can be tied together?

That was the question I asked myself as I sat down to write this December column. And you know what? An answer leapt immediately to mind: "Love Actually." If you've not yet seen this awesome holiday movie, rent it now. I haven't yet met anyone who has seen this film and not loved it.

So why did "Love Actually" seem the answer to my question? Well, first of all, it is just about the most cozy, festive bit of cinema since "It's a Wonderful Life." You get Christmas music, singing kids, snow, Christmas cards, holiday shopping, an office party, the family around the tree, the whole enchilada or should I say yule log.

As comfortable as I've always been about sex, as much as I have enjoyed reading and writing erotic fiction, as cool as I am with activities like going topless at parties and watching "those movies" with my husband...okay well, maybe I'm a prude.

What instigated this "prude awakening"? As I do every year at this time, I'm helping with the judging in the Eppie Awards (aka the Oscars of ebooks). Due to a clerical error, I was initially assigned four books entered in the Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transvestite category, aka GLBT, or in Eppie-speak, Category K. While I waited to hear if I might be excused to judge another category, I skimmed through the books. I am sworn to secrecy as an Eppie judge, and of course I wouldn't share details anyway, but this skimming experience was, for me personally, not a pleasant one.