I love Bacon. I always have. When I was growing up as one of six kids, I usually got 2 slices. Less if I wasn’t paying attention.
It wasn’t until I was an adult and could pay for restaurant meals that I realized I could actually eat 4 slices of Bacon at a meal. And then when I was out on my own and could buy it myself and cook it, I could eat an entire pound, which would make me sick to my stomach, but sometimes I still did it.
But over the years, I’ve learned that for me, 8 slices are ideal. Less than 8 and I feel disappointed, cheated. More than 8 and my mouth starts feeling greasy and my stomach rebels.
And ideally, the bacon is crispy, dissolve in your mouth crispy, not burnt and especially not soggy – ugh. In my own way, I am a bacon snob.
Now for the sex analogy, particularly sex in romance novels.
As with Bacon, we all know what is the right amount for us. Some people don’t like Bacon at all. Some want plates full.
My romances are sweet, rated G or PG. They are similar to the romantic comedies of the 1930’s and 1940’s but set in modern day. Sex is acknowledged as an important part of romance, but there aren’t any explicit or graphic sex scenes. I tend to have a closed door or fade-to-black policy. However, my characters do talk about sex sometimes, when the plot requires it, because – well, I think grownups in a romantic situation end up talking about it eventually.
So, if you like BLTs or sweet, quirky romances with smart heroines, kind heroes and the occasional hell or damn, but no Lord’s name in vain or f-bombs, welcome to my world.
Oh, and I also write Pride and Prejudice Variations under my pen name Jane Grix. In those stories, Darcy sometimes talks about Bacon, too.