Smut ... isn't it about time?

I started writing my new book last night.

 

I decided that it was going to be a Fantasy/Fiction Romance (smut) Novel and so far I have torture, death, magical seer stones, symbiotic healing, mental bonding, love and loss, and it's leading up to another great murder scene... and I'm only 1K into the story.

 

I do need a name for the Romanic interest that will be coming up soon. So far I just have Anna who is the protagonist and Diggery her poor husband who will die shortly. and the bad guys... so far all I call them is "They" I haven't really decided who or what they are yet. They do have some really cool weapons though. :)

 

I'm not sure how much of a smut novel it will turn out to be though, it really depends on who is going to get to read it and whether or not I want to be totally embarrassed by people reading it. But then again, stories often take on lives of their own and I don't know what will happen between the pages.

 

And that brings up the interesting question of: are people who write romance novels ever embarrassed by their work thinking that their parents may pick up their book one day? I have wondered that off and on through my existence. I have read my fair share of Harlequin Romance novels and once in a while I'm embarrassed to admit that I read it, let alone admitting that I wrote one.