I hadn't realized it until recently...
But the majority of my erotic romances are multicultural. To me, my hot alpha heroes are not men of "color"...just steamy and sexy and totally yummy. What makes me want to write about a hot guy with long black hair and copper skin making hot love to a sexy redhead? I suppose it never occurred to me to think of my Native American heroes as non-whites. I think of them as gorgeous men.
Take Azrael Thunder Horse, from Woman on Fire...
She shook her head and picked up the books the kids had not returned to the bookshelves like she’d asked as they had trooped out of her last class of the day. It would take a few more classes to get them into the habit of being kind to their teacher. As she placed the books on the shelves, she saw the classroom door open and glanced up expecting to see Mr. Wyatt, the principal, and found herself staring at a man she could only describe as the primest piece of oh-my-god-beautiful masculinity she’d had the pleasure of ogling in a long time. Her belly fluttered a joyful salute to his delicious, hot looks. Sheesh! Down girl. It hit her on a primal level that she couldn’t quite define…
“Can I help you?” Her quickly pasted-on smile was polite and pleasant. Probably a parent, checking out the new teacher. Damn. They didn’t build single males like him these days.
Night-dark eyes slid past her, wandered around the classroom slowly, and then returned to her. Eyes that would normally have set her pulse off like a shot, but these held a cold, aloof quality that let her know she was beneath his interest.
“Is Ms. Red Wolf still here?” The dark-chocolate voice held a quiet, tense note.
“I’m Cheyenne Red Wolf.” She repeated the polite smile. “How can I help you?”
The look of shock in those obsidian eyes made her bite back a grin. It wasn’t an unusual reaction to her definitely un-Indian looks attached to a very Indian name. But the desire to grin dissolved the instant those eyes turned angry.
“You are Cheyenne Red Wolf? Our new Native American Studies teacher?” Every word was clipped and reflected a fury that was barely held at bay.
She moved away from the bookshelf and resisted the urge to cross her arms defensively over her chest. The animosity rolling off that man was enough to choke her. It was only through sheer willpower that she didn’t cut and run. He took a step toward her and she had to crane her neck to meet his glare. She drew herself up to her tallest possible height which wasn’t much over five foot six in shoes and lifted her chin slightly in answer to his unspoken but clearly heard challenge. Damn! She wished now that she’d worn heels.
Azrael has a bit of trouble getting past the fact that the new teacher he hired for his Native American Studies program just happens to be...white.
I have always had a "thing" for Native American men, Asian men, and Latino men. I guess I never really saw my characters the way readers or reviewers see them. To me, they are simply people falling under each others' spells.
What is your favorite IR/MC book? (Not counting werewolves as another race). LOL! What kind of guy turns you into a puddle of jelly? Gives you chills?