I was in Las Vegas recently, sitting in the audience at a casino on the strip, waiting for a well-regarded cabaret show to begin. My husband and I were dressed up, slightly buzzed, and ready to watch a sexy grown-up act.
Unfortunately.
It was a dud.
There was nothing sexy about the show. It was a flaccid, anti-climatic mess, replete with bad jokes about proctologists, fake southern accents, and juvenile fantasies that left us profoundly unsatisfied. At certain moments, we started to snicker. Maybe, being from San Francisco, our tastes run a little wilder... ahem, but I suspect it has more to do with the fact that creating something sexy and alluring is more challenging than it seems. Anyone can show off their bodies or dip themselves into a gigantic champagne glass full of water, but it doesn’t mean they can turn you on.
The same is doubly true in writing. Writing a sex scene in a novel is harder than it looks.
When you decide to bring readers into the bedroom, the living room, the study, the backseat of a car, or an open field beneath the stars, you need to be ready to provide them with a gripping scene. However, you don’t want to make things too tight because that would be uncomfortable. (I’ll stop...)
As a writer, chemistry is the first thing I need between my characters. Whether it’s love at first sight or an instant dislike, sparks must fly for whatever comes next to work. Sexy starts for me in my brain. Most people need to be drawn to someone to be turned on by them. They connect with their sense of humor or intellect or how they engage with you and make you feel. Olivia, the heroine of my latest novel, The Others, immediately has witty banter with William, the almost 200-year-old vampire who becomes her lover.
He was pale, amazingly so, with a slight sprinkling of freckles across the middle of his face, and fiery-red hair that hung straight to his shoulders.
OK, I’ll admit—I was intrigued.
I was trying to put my finger on what caught my attention when the trio began to play. The moment I heard the music, I knew he was the vampire from the tunnel.
The recognition was immediate for us both. When I looked back at the stage, his green eyes were gazing directly into mine and he had a slight smile on his face, as if he also was satisfied to find me. I’ve never put much stock in love at first sight, but honestly, I was quite dazzled by the gorgeous musician making eyes at me. I was enjoying myself, but I realized that I needed to bring our staring contest to an end and leave before the vampire got the idea I was actually interested in getting to know him better.
It’s been well established (by me) that I don’t have boyfriends. I sleep with men occasionally when I feel the urge, usually the kind of men who don’t want to be called again, and this suits me fine.
Reluctantly, I packed up and abruptly set off as the band was ending its set, walking into the massive stream of people surging toward the other stages. I was allowing myself to be pushed along with the general direction of the mob when I felt a whisper of breath against my ear.
“I see you still can’t finish what you start,” he said.
Whoa. Vampires are fast. And quiet. I didn’t even hear him come up behind me. “Have we met?” I asked, using my haughtiest voice.
My remarks caused him to throw his head back and laugh. “You spent my entire set ogling me, and now you’re going to pretend we don’t know each other? That is downright cruel.”
“I was not ogling,” I said. “I was watching you play. I happen to like bluegrass music.”
“Liar,” was his reply.
We were at a standstill. As I stood watching him, it occurred to me that he was standing in the midday sun.
“Are you going to burst into flames if we stay here?” I asked, genuinely not wanting to draw that kind of attention to myself. I mean, how would I explain that to the police?
He smiled. “No, I will not burst into flames, but I would like to get my hat and my guitar and find some shade. Would you care to join me, ma’am?”
It was the ma’am that finally got me. It was delivered in a velvety drawl that sent shivers down my spine. And just like that, all of my ‘I don’t date; I don’t get involved’ disappeared, and I followed a strange vampire into the middle of a music festival.
However, witty banter is not enough to hold a reader’s attention or keep them glued to the page. Good sex scenes require sizzle. Sizzle is like alchemy. It’s chemistry and magic and requires practice to get right. Intimate moments need to be believable. The dialogue should avoid being cheesy. When clothing comes off and bodies ignite with passion, readers should be turned on. First kisses—the moments when lips touch, tongues slip through, and lips are bruised and swollen—should be accompanied by great dialogue either internal to the character or external between them. When Olivia and William finally have sex for the first time, this is what she says:
At the same moment his teeth pierced my skin, he slid a finger inside me. This is what being hit with a Taser must feel like, I thought as my body bucked and rocked. I screamed at the shock of the pain and the pleasure.
Hard to believe, but I had forgotten for a moment that I was making love with a vampire. Your imagination only goes so far when it comes to daydreams of moments like these...William climbed out of the pool, his long red hair matted against his shoulders, glistening from the water. He was beautiful and menacing to behold, pale and thin, his body marked with tattoos and ancient scars. He sat down next to me.
“Darlin’,” he said, “Are you ready? ’Cause this is the point of no return.”
“Which point?” I said playfully as I lay down, pulling him with me. “The trespassing on state property or the part where you make love to me?”
“Both,” he said, smiling as he slipped inside me. “Both.”
Creating compelling sex scenes with heat and chemistry between the characters also takes practice. I read a lot of romance novels and study the sex scenes. My interests vary from historical romances to very kinky. (It should go without saying that I don’t delve into stories that involve violence or deny any party autonomy over their body—unless they request it.) I study what turns me on and what doesn’t. I watch movies and television and dissect the scenes. I read my dialogue out loud to make sure it flows and doesn’t seem awkward. What’s awkward? What’s inauthentic? As the old saying goes, you’ll know when you see it.
I did in Las Vegas.
The bottom line: if you’re not slightly turned on when you’re writing it, don't expect your readers to be either.
***
Evette Davis is the author of The Others and The Gift, the first two installments of The Council Trilogy, published by Spark Press. The third and final book in the trilogy, The Campaign, will be released in September 2025.
She is also the author of 48 States, which Kirkus named one of the Best Indie Books of 2022. The book was also a quarter-finalist for the BookLife Prize 2023 and longlisted in the 2023 Indie Book Awards.
Davis is a member of the Board of Directors for Litquake, San Francisco’s annual literary festival. She’s been twice honored by the Friends of the San Francisco Public Library as a Library Laureate. Her work has also been published in the San Francisco Chronicle and Writer’s Digest. When she’s not writing novels, Davis advises some of the country’s largest corporations, non-profits, and institutions as a consultant and co-owner of BergDavis Public Affairs, an award-winning San Francisco-based consulting firm. Davis splits her time between San Francisco and Sun Valley, Idaho. For more information or to sign up for her newsletter, visit www.evettedavis.com.
