"How could a woman with thighs that still ached be so totally entranced by a glance?"

By the time Bewildered Heart had struggled through the initial one hundred pages of Under the Millionaire's Influence we finally found the good stuff, where the hero and heroine, despite constantly vowing not to sleep with each other for the good of themselves and their relationship, could no longer resist the temptation of a quickie in the passenger seat of a rental car. What the scene lacked in eroticism it more than made up for with phallicism, overwrought emotional epiphanies and a succinct conclusion. With The Millionaire's Indecent Proposal the reader need only wait seventy pages before Franco is reaching for the condoms and nonchalantly accusing his latest conquest of carrying a sexually-transmitted disease, the charmer. In the many Harlequin Mills & Boons we have endured only a small minority, The Playboy of Pengarroth Hall and The Dad Next Door, featured no sex scenes, while many, including Wild Child and The Millionaire's Indecent Proposal, seemed to contain nothing but.

Which leads us to ask the necessary question, what makes for an enjoyable, enticing literary sex scene and can Mills & Boon themselves offer up a list of helpful ideas to guide us through it, as we nervously fumble for the right words and how they are supposed to fit together? Why yes, and who better than Flo Nicoll to let the gals at Romance HQ in on all the dirty secrets. 'Mills & Boon books promise readers the ultimate in female fantasies – from marrying your childhood sweetheart to a night of multiple simultaneous orgasms with a gorgeous stranger.' It is either or, romance readers, so choose wisely. 'A great love scene is unputdownable – emotional, sexy, and exciting. But a bad sex scene can be the kiss of death for your story, and your characters – how can we fall in love with your hero if his between-the-sheets behaviour fails to satisfy?' Perhaps he was exhausted from making billions of pounds, being kind to children and respecting and adoring the only woman for him. There sure is a lot of pressure on the modern heroic man, the last thing he needs is a heroine constantly wondering if prostitution is somehow sullying her principles and refusing him the opportunity to work his magic, and then once he forces himself upon her using magnetic eye contact and height she finds the nerve to criticise his performance...

So, when it comes to throwing together a firework display in a bedroom, what are the proverbial rockets and Catherine wheels? To continue this already strained analogy a sparkler would be emotionality. 'Good love scenes happen within the emotional development of the relationship, and can be a key turning point for the couple. Use sensual encounters as an opportunity to delve into the emotional reactions of your characters, particularly the heroine.' As with any other element of your novel therefore make sure what you write has meaning and value. Sex for the sake of sex is unnecessary, according to Nicoll and the general consensus of women in the real world. Lust has no depth and mental connection must be developed through an appropriate amount of intimate conversations and meals. Thus, fornication should only be used to advance the story, as a couple moves from a man and a woman who were not having sex to a couple who now are, or a former couple who used to have sex and stopped transition back to the couple they were once again. The latter structure sounds more complex than it actually is.

Thus we learn to use love scenes for their narrative necessity, while being careful to avoid pornographic gratuity that derails the pacing of the drama. What other suggestions does Nicoll offer for penning sex scenes that actually apply to all elements of writing? 'Don’t be afraid to leave details to the imagination: in some of the hottest books, the actual consummation scene is only a paragraph.' See, good sex does not always have to last thirty pages. There is nothing embarrassing about only lasting a paragraph and then ending the chapter by writing, 'Goodnight.' A pithy footnote will suffice, as no one wants to read a meticulous description of every thrust. Just as satisfying is the simple use of phrases such as repeatedly, or until he was finished. 'Remember, nothing you write on the page will be nearly as erotic as what your readers can dream up… particularly if they read a lot of romance!' You know what your audience wants and why they want it, but bear in mind they are only after skilful touches, sultry insinuations, not full-blown explicitness, because they can take care of themselves once you have set the mood. They're not perverts.

'A beautiful sex scene can easily be ruined by the less sexy aspects of sex – disposal of condom, wiping down the heroine, even (I can’t quite believe I’m typing these words) the dreaded wet spot. It may be realistic, but it’s also a massive mood killer.' Yes, as with in reality realism destroys the beauty of everything. Still, an author is better off simply ending the scene at a civilized point, rather than pretending that these things just do not happen to gorgeous Greek tycoons and their spellbound virginal mistresses. Of course, do not allow Nicoll's shallow logic to stop you from attempting to make the disposal of a condom, the wiping down of the heroine or the wet spot romantic, sexy or a combination of the two. Just because everyone else has failed it does not mean you couldn't be the first to make post-coitus the must-read part of the Mills & Boon experience. Soon enough Harlequin fans will be demanding every Modern Romance contains an erotic wiping down of the heroine sequence.

Typically of a female journalist Flo Nicoll waits until after we have dealt with condom disposal before explaining the significance of foreplay. 'Don't forget the importance of kissing and touching! Lips, neck and ears, lower back, inner thighs and forearms etc. Because, not to get too personal, but isn’t it the men who move in straight for the grope – boobs and below – that are the biggest turn-off?' Anticipation is key for getting both heroine and reader in the right mind for literary loving. Keep your characters exchanging provocative, innuendo-based dialogue before they get down to the nitty-gritty of forearm-touching, and below-boob-groping. Readers prefer to experience the passion of the encounter, believing hero and heroine have taken a giant step towards their eventual happy ending and have furthered their eternal devotion through a paragraph's worth of physical unity.

While it is all well and good being told what makes for marvellous sex, and Bewildered Heart has learnt an awful lot admittedly, there is little in the way of technical advice in Nicoll's column. For example, when word-painting a romantic boob-grope, or a tender, moonlit condom-disposal should we, the author, censor the more colourful words and search the internet for suitable synonyms? 'The less flowery the descriptions, the better. Sometimes you just need to be able to call an erection an erection – not always a throbbing member/hard shaft etc! We’re not talking graphic descriptions of the porno variety but don’t shy away from being direct – after all, what’s the point in writing about something you’re not comfortable describing?' There you have it, gentle reader, no more euphemisms such as 'boobs and below' when the writer is referring to a lady's heavenly warmth. From now on, use depictions you are relaxed about using, and never again will a reader giggle, blushing because she knows when you wrote throbbing and hard you really meant erect.

'Let’s spare a thought for the hero who can’t control near-constant hard-ons… Everyone loves a virile hero, but this lack of control over his body risks making him seem juvenile, not jaw-droppingly hot! A little manly restraint can go a long way, ladies.' Writers should know well enough already not to base their heroes on fourteen year old boys, internet bloggers, or men in general, instead drawing the fine line between sexual prepotency and erectile dysfunction. A doting smile, or a fleeting, electrically-charged touch of the hands, a brief bout of gentle neck-nuzzling, the heroine's parade across the Olympic-sized swimming pool in a risqué bikini, or hearing a tragic sob-story concerning unresolved father issues should not result in a twitch in the trousers or a guttural feeling of arousal. No, the hero should react to these events with disdain and indifference, thus garnering the favour of women even further.

Finally, let us pretend there was an award for most annoying cliché found in a literary sex scene, what would that be, Flo Nicoll? 'The booby prize goes to the heroine’s instant nipple hardening/ tightening/ peaking/ pebbling on seeing the hero! (After two years at Romance HQ, I am well on my way to developing a complex because this doesn’t happen to me on a regular basis).' Now, either Nicoll has a severe lack of sensitivity in her nipples, her brain emotionally connects to elsewhere on her body, or the pebbling of nipples is something that does not happen to the world's women. If so, what other options are open to an author when wishing to demonstrate her heroine's stimulation, besides eyelid-fluttering or accepting money in exchange for sexual compliance? Nicoll has no ideas, but perhaps aspiring female writers could use this opening to invent a new language for sensuality, creating compelling euphemisms, more imaginative acts for their couples, discovering more realistic ways to portray desire and no longer viewing sex as a contractual requirement for Harlequin novels, instead properly lacing intimacy into their narratives. For those wanting less sex try Cherish, more sex there is Spice and for the same amount, but with the added benefit of Nicoll's unhelpful demonstration of how it has always been there remains Mills & Boon.

"He couldn't imagine a simple coat of paint could chase away his father's gloomy taint"

Some readers may find it difficult to believe but there remains a dismissive attitude towards romance fiction, despite the best work of Mills & Boon, publishing those thousands upon thousands of books, and Bewildered Heart, for we also try in our own captious way. Much like this beloved weblog there are others taking the fight to the critics who argue that the romance genre is formulaic, sexist, tawdry, clichéd, stereotypical, worthless, dumb, and written by bored housewives for pathetic idiots with unrealistic expectations of men, love and life. Without any evidence to back those statements up they still sound legitimate, so thank goodness for Australian author Anne Gracie, who wishes to stop this completely reasonable scorn with a dignified, finely-considered retort.

First of all, a popular misconception is that there exists a Mills & Boon Formula setting forth, in detail, exactly what an author must do and when to do it, yet says Gracie, 'There is not and never has been "a formula". Nor are there computer generated plots or any nonsense like that.' Mills & Boon do have guidelines which explain the differences between their many subgenres, but the guidelines merely state the preferred length of the novel, the tone, and the sexual content. 'Apply a little logic to The Formula: HM&B publishes more than 50 new titles each month. They've been doing that for more than 50 years. If there was a kiss on page 28 or a sex scene in chapter 5 of every book, do you think readers would keep buying, month after month, year after year?' Gracie may be over-estimating her overly-derided readership, but she is in no mood to contemplate the accusation that romances are blandly predictable and all the same, but their lack of drama and comforting trustworthiness are fundamental to their appeal.

For the sake of doing so, however, let us challenge that second myth anyway. Not all romantic fiction is the same. 'They are the same in that each story has a relationship between a man and a woman at its heart, and a satisfying ending, but it's like chocolate -- we all know what chocolate tastes like, but there are also many different kinds of chocolate and many ways to present and eat it. And people return time and time again to their favourite.' So, if it is good enough for chocolate then it is good enough for art. Romance novels can change the names of their characters and set each tale in a different location, and even go as far as to use different words to describe the same acts and emotions, but deep down they are stories printed on paper and they are successful and people keep buying them, so why should we bother analysing anything as if it's broken?

Next. 'Myth #3— they're soft porn for women. I don't know how many times I've heard critics of romance read out salacious passages from a sexy M&B. I dare say I could pick out passages from almost any novel and mock it out of context. Cheap laughs.' Yes, what kind of bastard uses out of context sentences from a Mills & Boon for an easy joke? 'The focus of a romance is not the sex but the relationship. In any case, how many of us would say that sex played no part in our relationships? If sex belongs anywhere, it's in a romance.' Exactly, Anne Gracie, and what would soft porn be without sex?

Against a standard criticism of paper-thin characters and simplistic writing style, Gracie argues, 'In every genre, there are novels that are clichéd and poorly written, and some books that are wonderfully written with unforgettable characters and prose that sings. Romance is no different. It's a huge genre, with an enormous range and variety. Don't judge a whole genre by a few books.' There is no conclusive proof that there is an inherent flaw in romantic fiction that causes every example to be typically base, shallow and amateurish. Gracie admits that romance is entertainment and should not be confused with literary fiction, which no one finds entertaining. People are stupid, she implies, somewhat caustically, and it is the public, not the authors, who are responsible for the shortcomings in every genre. We cannot help it if you are fools who have no idea what is good for you. Gracie goes on to include a quote from Robertson Davies, 'It is dangerous to condemn stories as junk which satisfy the deep hunger of millions of people. These books are not literary art, but a great deal of what is acclaimed as literary art in our time offers no comfort or fulfillment to anybody.' Therefore, cheer up, undiscerning masses, you are not entirely at fault. Talented authors writing great works of art should share the blame.

'Romance is for dumb or pathetic women. Yeah, and crime novels are for repressed murderers and violent types with a taste for necrophilia. And science fiction is for sad geeks who dress badly and have no grip on reality. And thrillers are for people who live dull, restricted lives. And people who read Literature are pretentious snobs.' You go, girl! Call those crime novel enthusiasts out for their secret fantasies. What kinds of sexual deviancies do you imagine Point Horror fans are into? 'There's nothing pathetic about wanting to read books that celebrate love. There's nothing dumb about reading books that makes you feel good at the end.' Indeed. Gracie has successfully countered Gracie's claims that Gracie is desperate and ignorant. Still, she has become so angry at these hurtful remarks she should probably stop making them up in the first place. Be that as it may, her statement does require a little further exploration because crime novels can be enjoyed by murderers with healthy attitudes, and even well-dressed nerds may find science-fiction is for them.

Therefore, is romance only suitable for dumb, pathetic people, or solely targeted at women of varying degrees of stability and intelligence? Does the genre render their fans pathetic and dumb, or do pathetic and dumb readers seek the genre out? Romance is seen as a woman's market, presumably because men are too cerebral for such simple pleasures. However, no one could possibly turn unsubstantiated fury into feminist tirade. 'In past centuries it was claimed that women should not be taught to read because they had small brains and the poor dears couldn't cope with all the extra learning. In the Victorian era men were warned not to let their womenfolk read because novels brought about a spiritual and moral decline in the feeble female constitution. And caused them to neglect their housework.' Still, men let it happen and look where we are today. Some women do no housework at all, instead endlessly reading romance novels, unable and unwilling to discern real from fantasy and causing fanatical medical health professionals to blame romance fiction for many of our modern psychological problems. Now, at least, we know where all this tragedy began, if only Gracie would give up the sources of her historical anecdotes.

As for filling women's heads with unrealistic expectations of life, 'Do science fiction novels make people believe the aliens are coming? Do crime novels cause people to murder? Do fantasy novels make us believe we can fly or perform magic?' Well, those examples may be as illogical as they are irrelevant, but causing females to believe love exists wreaks destruction our therapists just cannot keep up with, and is far more serious than watching the skies or wearing spectacles and waving a wand in restaurants. 'Some of the grittier, more "real life" romances often portray people coping with difficulties many women cope with — illness, divorce, death, career crises, elderly parents, problems with children , and so on. No easy solutions are presented.' As we have discovered through our reading and critiquing of the genre, no real life difficulty is a match for a wedding and the patter of tiny feet, as problems quickly disappear once the happy couple declare their love at the end, and this all-defeating power of love is the key selling point of the romance genre. Therefore, authors do themselves a disservice to argue both sides, as once you had Robertson Davies backing you up, and now you are suggesting romance occasionally offers depth beyond shallow fantasy. Clearly someone has been listening to the critics they claim to be ignoring.

There remain two myths that require dispelling, now that we have so easily dispelled the initial eight. Most importantly of all, writing romance fiction is not as straight-forward as one may think from reading romance fiction and concluding that anyone could do that. 'Even Harlequin Mills and Boon, that urban myth claims is so easy to 'crack', receive 20,000 unsolicited manuscripts each year from all over the world. They contract perhaps 30 new writers.' If by some miracle your work is selected do not expect money for jam. In fact, contrary to popular belief while there are financial rewards for succeeding in the most widely-lucrative genre of fiction the world has ever known there is no guarantee you will see any of that cash. Advances are small, and royalties are made up of a tiny percentage of the book's cover price. While Gracie ends her article with a glowing reference of romance fiction for both writers and readers, there are easier ways to make money, for example any job besides author. Passion fuels this career rather than the financial proceeds, so those thinking Mills & Boon is the way to make a quick, easy fortune are well-advised to try elsewhere. We fans can sense the cynicism within the opening sentences, and if there was ever an antithesis of romance it would be cynicism, as Bewildered Heart continues to discover to its benefit.

"He wanted her. The depth of that discovery made her forget to chew her toast for a full two seconds"

For Starr and David the journey from lovestruck teenagers in love to twenty-somethings in love has been a long and arduous voyage of self-discovery and waiting an appropriate amount of time, a decade, before getting married and making hasty babies. After three chapters of Under the Millionaire's Influence there seemed little stopping the estranged lovers from rekindling their mutual passion and ending the novel in a hurried and foreseeable fashion. Author, characters and reader clearly just wanted to get all this over with, and so on a pier over-looking the ocean after a series of tedious conversations they professed their undying love for each other and hugged, happy in the knowledge their selfish reunion had brought suffering and shame on every single other character in their lives. A happy ending if ever there was one, for Starr and David, if no one else.

To reiterate, David Hamilton-Reis returns to Charleston to tend to his sickly mother, but to his puzzlement finds the old girl surprisingly sprightly and chipper. Less surprising, however, is his instant attraction to the homespun existence of Starr Cimino, the love of his life who has a house and business next door to the Hamilton-Reis estate. As chapter four begins David resolves to make some changes in his former back yard, before returning to his day job of fighting international crime and being tremendous. Firstly, he reasons, he must not become romantically involved with Starr, knowing their relationship could never find the long-term happiness both wish it could. Secondly, he has to remove those pesky Cimino's from the beach, the gypsy villains are trouble, and he knows it, not only are they leaving Starr unhappy, but they are also driving down house prices by being unfashionably poor. Thirdly, David needs to come to terms with the long-lasting effects of his emotionally-sterile upbringing, his distant father and his snobbish mother, especially if he is going to become romantically-involved with Starr.

Starr also has to deal with some of her own deep-rooted issues. Firstly, she must not immediately jump back into bed with David, because his work and his emotionally-sterile upbringing will only cause her pain eventually. Secondly, she has to wave goodbye to her birth parents once and for all, to save her business and to save herself, because the Beachcombers business is all she has. Thirdly, once she has those scuzzy gypsies gone she could allow herself to be vulnerable and honest with someone, put her past behind her and truly begin to introduce happiness into her life, meaning she could finally become romantically-involved with David and jump back into bed with him. Watching each other do anything, or even not watching each other, but simply thinking about them while absent-mindedly operating machinery, proves too much for both hero and heroine and before you can say, 'This is predictable,' they have wrapped their arms around each other and kissed longingly, fully aware of the burning desire they can feel when their aching bodies press against each other, his muscles firm and rigid, her breasts soft and perfectly-shaped.

However, Starr is able to break the embrace and return home, leaving David with a plan and an uncomfortable walk back to his mother's house. If Starr refuses to be with him because she does not want to travel the world and wait in hotels while he completes his top secret missions, he must kidnap her and coerce his new best friend, Seth Jansen, to fly them to a suitably exotic romantic getaway where they can platonically discover how wonderful it would be to marry and travel to exotic locations together. Once Starr awakens at a deserted airfield to find her belongings packed into a bag she is confused and more than a little turned on. What about her business, her step-sisters and her estranged family committing heavens knows what kind of crimes against her business and step-sisters, and who is this stranger with his own private plane? David seductively instructs her to stop asking questions and accept that she cannot escape and must abandon her responsibilities for the sake of an indulgent vacation. With Starr still haunted by a childhood plagued with abandonment crises and enforced suffering this is more than enough to leave her a little turned on.

Seth flies them to New Mexico where David and Starr sample the delights of Taos and R.C. Gorman's Navajo Gallery, before passion cannot evade them any longer and they enjoy a series of sex scenes to bulk out the second act of the novel. While taking momentary breaks from being naked with one another, David uses the opportunity to pry into Starr's troubled early life, and has her explain all those childhood traumas the reader is already aware of. Starr reveals all, both figuratively and literally, by continuing her parade of sultry nakedness. In turn, David exhibits his own sensitive side, acknowledging respect for Aunt Libby and admitting vulnerability when it comes to Starr. Could this arrogant, chauvinistic secret agent actually be empathetic and willing to suffer eventual heartbreak for sex? If so, should Starr marry him immediately and proceed to birth his babies? Though it is fulfilling, satisfying and thankless to read about, David's wooing must end, as Starr stamps a pretty, little foot and demands he return her to the pressing narrative matters of the story. If David believes he can convince her to follow him around to world with a brief holiday, surely she can prove to him the value of staying at home and mending things around the carriage house by making him go home and fix his relationship with his mother.

They drop in on David's home, where Alice Hamilton-Reis is helpfully absent, to unearth photographs of their prom night for another of Starr's memory albums. With the crafty use of casual swearing Starr teases full disclosure from David, as he tells of his oppressive upbringing, his withdrawn father and the one time he showed the young boy the back of his hand to force him into taking over the family business against David's wishes. This shocking revelation of abuse strikes a chord with Starr and inevitably leads to sex, as anything does with this pair. Shortly afterwards Starr comes to the conclusion that she loves David and always has, even though she already knew this. Meanwhile, David decides in the aftermath of the sex that he should not walk away from all this sex, so the couple are bound in eternal union. Only three nagging plot-points remain to be resolved and those are the three plot-points that Mann opened her novel with. What will happen to the Cimino family and their vagabond criminality? What will happen with David and his mother, thanks to all the psychological damage Starr has dredged up with her womanly questioning? Finally, can the lovers overcome the differences in their personalities and long-term objectives that have always managed to wreck their chances of a relationship? Has Catherine Mann left herself too much to do in the final chapter, having put off dealing with anything of significance in the opening ten?

The reader nervously delves into the novel's climax and finds that of course everything can be tied up in a neat bow and stored out of sight to never complicate the lives of the protagonists again. Alice can be kicked out of her home and sent to a retirement community where she will linger for a couple of months and then die. The Cimino Clan cannot be charged with any misdemeanours, but they certainly can be warned to stay out of Charleston, South Carolina and continue their crime spree anywhere else in the United States, just not around their daughter. Lastly, David and Starr can kiss on a pier and what used to separate them can be entirely disregarded by the author. With Alice sent to her doom the mansion is empty for youthful reinvigoration. Starr agrees to follow David on his elusive foreign missions so long as they are close to her new university course, while David agrees to occasionally come home and never discuss where he has been because of national security, possibly, we don't know, as Mann feels it unnecessary to explain the details of David's job, even though his work is fundamental to the central conflict of her novel.

Happiness came and love conquered all, from homicidal travellers, to infirmity, to child abuse, to childhood neuroses and the inability to accept love because of repressive and irresponsible parenting. Starr Cimino and David Hamilton-Reis were free to pursue marriage and the many children they will burden with their inherited emotional deficiencies. Otherwise, Catherine Mann continued with her hackneyed prose, littered with damns and darns, and ended with an incredulous conversation that implied our hero and heroine were aware of the title of the novel, as Mills & Boon foolishly toyed with meta-fiction. Who, after all, is the millionaire in this relationship and who is under whose influence? Do these questions best represent the most important elements of Under the Millionaire's Influence? The answer, naturally, is no, but when the author seems intent on abandoning the pressing aspects of their story, because there was nothing but being reasonable stopping the characters from getting together, sometimes the only way to end a novel is to change the subject and hope the reader lacks intelligence. For example, here is a video of Hugh Jackman asking a chair to dance.

"He shuddered even though there wasn't an air conditioner or fan in sight"

Mills & Boon has mustered all the pride they can manage for their product to announce this year's New Voices competition. For the first time in quite some time the publisher has made the newspaper headlines for non-detrimental reasons. Enough with the destructive qualities of their work, enough with the psychologically-traumatised women who only wished to read a nice, relaxing novel, but wound up cracking up and complaining their own husband wasn't named Buck Rodriguez. It is time Harlequin reached out and attempted to procure a few more admirers and writers to eventually psychologically-traumatise. New Voices sets out to discover the next big thing in romance authorship, where a judging panel and the public combine to vote on best opening chapters, second chapters and third chapters featuring a pivotal moment involving said characters, where presumably the heroine is horrified to learn that the gorgeous Hispanic stranger carrying her dog up a flight of stairs and the ruthless property developer determined to tear down her beloved former high school gymnasium are one and the same. Uh oh, Buck Rodriguez!

As we have learned many times before and proven in the previous paragraph, dreaming up romance scenarios is simple, but for those potential competition entrants still unsure how to proceed The Independent on Sunday has written a Blagger's Guide to Writing a Mills & Boon Novel, in order to help improve your chances of landing the coveted winner's spot. From the previous year's eight hundred entries, the champion, Leah Ashton, and two runners-up, Lucy Ellis and Louisa George, will, or have already seen, their efforts published. Who shall it be this time? Well, tempted yet trepidatious reader, have no worries as Bewildered Heart and, to a lesser extent, a national newspaper are here to help.

Let us begin with how New Voices works. First, authors submit their three chapters before the closing date of October tenth, and the judges select a short-list, from which Mills & Boon fans can read and vote for their favourites on the Romance is Not Dead website. The initial twenty authors chosen will be given a romance mentor to improve their decisive second and third chapters. From there four finalists will be singled out, and the eventual victor shall be announced from those four by the beginning of November. This lucky writer will be rewarded with a year working closely with a Mills & Boon editor, as she or he completes the remainder of the manuscript, which will then be published, to coincide with next year's event, and then forgotten about almost immediately.

The Independent, sensing further help was needed, sought the wisdom of Penny Jordan, who has been churning out romance fiction for over twenty-five years, selling ninety million copies of her one hundred and seventy books. If ever there was someone who might be able to offer valuable insights, it would be Penny Jordan, and so she did, revealing the five top tips of writing romance that only a professional romance writer would know, and that the rest of us could merely hopelessly guess at, mourning the inadequacies of our feeble brains.

Number One, 'Grab the reader's attention in the first line and introduce the hero and heroine by the end of the first page,' says Jordan, making a solid beginning to explain the importance of solid beginnings. Make the reader know they are reading from the outset. There is nothing worse than being thirty pages into a book before you realise it is a book you are staring at. Do not allow your target audience to gaze absent-mindedly at the words you have written. Have your words stand out and demand attention, possibly by utilising bold or a large font size for your novel's first letter. With your hero and heroine meeting within the opening few pages you have set up your story's focal point, these two characters have been brought together through fate and shall be kept together by plot contrivance, until they come to the inevitable conclusion there is no escape and agree to marry one another.

Number Two, 'Convincing dialogue is crucial. Speak it out loud to make sure that it sounds right and flows easily.' Do not let every Mills & Boon book fool you into thinking that cringe-worthy, unlikely dialogue is acceptable, because according to Penny Jordan, it is not acceptable. Reading it out loud is decent advice, however, although her statement needs amending with an appendage. After you have penned your believable dialogue for your incredulous series of ridiculous situations read it out loud quietly, and make sure no one is around who might be able to hear you.

Number Three, 'Sex = Sensuality, Emotion and a certain amount of X factor. Balance the physical aspects of any sex scenes with the emotional intensity of what the characters are feeling.' There were we thinking that Sex = No Sex + Lady, when the correct equation is in fact Sex = (Sensuality + Emotion) x X Factor. Who knew Mills & Boon authors could only think carnally through the use of technical sums? When Bewildered Heart becomes an old enough blog to discuss how to write a sex scene we will hope to explain how to put into practise the lessons Penny Jordan has tried to teach us. Until then, let us assume that emotional intensity means the heroine and hero react to love-making with intense emotions, resulting in some sort of conclusion that renders them emotionally drained, naked and sleepy. However, there is little need to worry about explicit desires as of yet, because you are still only completing your opening chapter and none of your characters should be doing anything more than denying their emotions at this point.

Number Four, 'There must be a strong element of conflict between the heroine and the hero, but they will come to value their love more than their differences. Restrict the plot to the hero and heroine; there is little room for secondary characters in a story of 50,000 words.' Ah, the unwritten Mills & Boon formula and how everyone understands it, while rejecting its very existence. Occasionally, and increasingly commonly, the structure hopes to resolve these conflicts through an emotional arc, where the differences that would at first have prohibited a relationship are conquered with each character teaching the other an important lesson, helping them get over their arrogance, shyness, neuroses, self-doubt or body issues. In Wild Child by Cindi Myers Drew and Sara had to overcome their utter stupidity and literal distance by accepting their idiotic behaviour and also one of them moving. Whereas in Cathy Williams' Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience Georgie helped Pierre relax his attitude toward business, money and intelligent women while he taught her the joy of responsibilities by impregnating her with a baby.

Number Five, 'Believe in your characters, let them take over.' Not so much as to blur the line between reality and fantasy, mind, as we have already explained that kind of mental breakdown should only occur in the minds of your readers, but this standard piece of advice suggests writing a romance novel is not a short-lived whim, or a joke between friends, but actually a long-term commitment and consuming passion. You must love the genre and throw yourself fully into the act of reading and writing, conjuring up a man you would love to run into one day whilst walking past his luxurious mansion and a heroine you would be proud to call your friend. They must be real, credible and the perfect fit not only for one another, but also for your book. Of course, The Blagger's Guide and Mills & Boon have only given us one month before the deadline of their competition, so for the sake of saving time and getting on with writing this last one is probably best glossing over until you have finished.

"I had a talent, something that set me apart from all the other girls"

The Festival of Romance is the United Kingdom's only festival dedicated to romance fiction. There authors, readers and the occasional pollster can mingle and discuss their genre of choice. Ahead of this October's event the organisers have given romance writers a brief questionnaire, hoping for an insight into the minds of the women who write books about women falling in love with muscular, confident billionaires with full heads of hair and gloriously thick eyelashes. A series of characteristics were presented and the novelists then asked to rate the importance of each in their ideal partner. How would wealth, paternal feelings, love-making abilities and willingness to communicate honestly feature alongside such certainties as physique, dress sense and misogyny?

Each author was given a balanced list of personality traits and invited to score them as either Essential, Desirable or Not Important. Those most widely agreed upon were taken as gospel and will soon appear in your future romance heroes, as well as all those calculating men who read this weblog for helpful hints for dating game improvement. Do you have a pen and paper or computer nearby? If so, results are in. The essentials every male must provide are loyalty, honesty, personal hygiene, kindness, sense of humour, intelligence and principles. Preferred, but optional, are weight, bedroom skills, height, self-confidence and attractiveness. Finally, there were the choices that women deemed entirely irrelevant, such as the man's car, his religious and political persuasions, and his social and financial standings. What, no cooing at babies in supermarkets, eyelashes that flutter in the gentle breeze, enigmatic gift-buying, Hugh Jackman-similarity, steely blue eyes, Mediterranean descent, or pasts shrouded in secrecy? Nothing of his career as CEO or mysterious tycoon, and no mention of worthwhile credentials such as romantic, divorced or cool with feminism. What the hell, novelists?

The findings are eye-opening, but largely meaningless, as romance authors knew their answers would be collected and then released onto this world web and copied into newspapers, blogs and college theses. Because of this many of the more obvious buzzwords such as loyalty, honesty and kindness can be easily dismissed for a variety of reasons. What sort of woman would willingly choose a cruel, unfaithful liar, despite the quality of his car and wicked wit? Furthermore, sense of humour and intelligence can be discounted with similar reasoning. The essentials feature heavily in the creation of a Harlequin hero, and even more so in modern chick-lit. However, it is peculiar to see principles rated so highly and yet religious and political persuasions barely considered, as if the women taking part in the poll were not clear what some of those words might have meant. Personal hygiene, though, is something of a stand-out among the other imperative ingredients in husband material, but when you are fruitlessly searching for eyelash thickness and no sign of male pattern baldness perhaps personal hygiene could be considered an appropriate euphemism.

As expected of a survey where those taking part are likely to lie despite their exultation of honesty, categories such as wealth and social standing were not only not considered desirable, but in fact thought unimportant, again suggesting some confusion over the meaning of the word desirable. For this statement to be treated credibly, however, there would surely be clues found in romantic literature. Typically a heroine sees material success in her man as inconsequential to their spiritual value, yet an evolutionary study of romance titles found prosperity is regarded as highly appealing for the benefit of the welfare of the heroine and the couple's eventual children. Where a consensus formed the choices were usually predictable. Ninety-one per cent of the fifty-eight authors polled said loyalty was essential, and seventy-nine per cent agreed that a good car was not a deal-breaking factor. Curiously, however, a handful of options do not show up in the results under any category, implying split opinion over such qualities as loving his family, loving animals, being adventurous, owning property, showing a sensitive nature and being able to fix the computer and connecting the television to the DVD player.

Following on from whatever the first part of the poll was supposed to accomplish, the Romance Festival continued on to pose some serious questions. Once the day-dreaming was completed, the writers were queried over their beliefs toward notions of eternal love, whether men have become more sensitive in recent years and whether anyone wishes to share their own memories of having their heart ripped from their chest and trampled upon, figuratively-speaking. Surprisingly, eighty-six per cent of a small selection of romance writers admitted to being romantic at heart, although half of them confessed to having been disappointed in love. Still, the majority proved themselves modern and progressive, saying marriage was not the only way to declare love, and accepting that eternal love is something of a myth. However, many said they retained hope of finding life partners, which while showing faith in love, does not show a keen understanding of the concept of eternity. Sixty-four per cent said the best chance of finding romance was between the pages of one of their books, although they would say that, wouldn't they? They are shameless self-publicists even in anonymous online questionnaires, each and sixty-four per cent of them.

With the writers out of the way the Festival of Romance can move on to the thoughts of the public, and invites anyone, including yourself, gentle reader, to take part in the same discussion and see if we are that different from professional romantics. A week remains before polling is closed and the results stand, forever defining the attributes of the ideal partner, so time is not the only matter of utmost importance. 'The Festival of Romance is calling on the nation's women to let the novelists know what they think makes the perfect man,' says event organiser and novelist Kate Allan. 'This vital poll could change the way that romantic novels are written!' You heard the lady, Bewildered Hearts. If enough of you make Technology Literate an essential requirement of the perfect man perhaps we can at last see an internet blogger into the world of romantic heroism. Failing that we can still achieve the less ambitious aim of changing the way romantic novels are written.

"The metaphorical beer keg exploded and she didn't have a clue how to stop the spewing mess of her emotions"

The good news at reaching the end of The Millionaire's Indecent Proposal was immediately tempered with the bad news that we had only completed one of our first ever Desire 2-in-1's. How would the second compare, thematically and possibly otherwise? After all, Emilie Rose had given us a timid heroine, an arrogant millionaire, poorly-written sex scenes, misogyny, a deluded interpretation of prostitution, an exotic coastal location, and countless supporting characters for endless spin-off value. What to expect from Under the Millionaire's Influence by Catherine Mann? Would there at least be a millionaire? Well, impatient reader, your wait is over. Thank you for waiting.

There is indeed a millionaire in Under the Millionaire's Influence, and his name is David Hamilton-Reis. David is back to his exotic coastally-located home to look after his ailing mother's health. His family, the Hamilton-Reis's, are as wealthy a clan as many a Harlequin family, but David has not merely resorted to inheriting from his father and helping the business to flourish while secretly yearning to pursue his real passion of bedding virgins with matriarchal neuroses. No, David has chosen an entirely less well-paid career, as your run-of-the-mill super agent spy. Now he spends his days gallivanting across the globe, saving nations from themselves, killing undesirables, filing reports and wandering glamorous locales, shirtless and effortlessly gorgeous.

Like all millionaire families, of course, the Hamilton-Reis' live in a large, beachside mansion next door to a home for troubled youths. One such troubled youth is the inexplicably-named Starr Cimino. Starr was saved from her itinerant family of murderous gypsies and sent to live with kind Aunt Libby, although Libby was no aunt, but rather an aunt in the sense that Uncle Bewildered Heart is an uncle. There Starr met other troubled orphans, the responsible Claire, who had her romantic tale told already, and the young, intelligent accountant Ashley, who had her own novel shortly thereafter. Together the three step-sisters run Beachcombers, a beach-side restaurant and hotel. Starr lives behind the restaurant in a carriage house and harbours dreams of being an artist, making her a terrible choice for restaurateur and hotel owner.

Unfortunately for Starr and her aspirations for a life of sexless regret, her thieving travellers of parents, uncles and aunts have turned up in their RVs with mischief on their minds and David has returned to try to have sex with her, as is their custom. As teenagers Starr and David had enjoyed a serious, explicit relationship they never recovered from, emotionally and possibly otherwise. Naturally, David's mother disapproved, as any mother would of a girl named Starr Cimino, but this only fuelled the young lover's fervour. However, a life-time of wedded bliss and being sexy was not on the cards for the couple. David wanted to experience the world as the United States' least secretive secret agent spy, but Starr was tired of nomadic slaughter, having had her fill from her folks, and wanted to settle down in wherever Under the Millionaire's Influence is supposed to be set.

Yes, once again there is that classic story we have grown so sick of reading, where the woman wants a home to call her own and the man wants to shoot people for his government and sleep with beautiful ladies in fancy hotels. No amount of physical attraction and emotional retardation can overcome such stubborn personalities wanting different things and Starr and David have become no longer synonymous with each other, but rather memories in their respective back stories. That was until one year ago, though, when reuniting for vague reasons, they enjoyed a weekend of 'incredible, heart-searing sex (author's words)' until the weekend ended and they returned to their understandings of what a relationship entails. Still, no amount of physical attraction, love and emotional retardation can make David and Starr an item that will promise marriage to one another at the book's conclusion?

Yet is it possible there is a specified amount? There are only two ways to find out, reading on or not reading on. There are downsides to the preferable option of not reading on, however. How shall Starr and David contrive a way to rid the beach of Starr's family, and just what are Frederick and Gita up to? Another scam involving herbal remedies and flower-trampling, or have their ambitions grown to actual ambition and do they have something dramatic planned, because the novel could use someone doing something dramatic. What will happen with Ashley, returned from college, now Claire's husband's cousin, Seth, has also turned up to build a business and house with his bare hands, out of sheer willpower and masculinity? According to Rich Man's Fake Fiancée, not a thing.

Those Bewildered Heart loyalists, such as Bewildered Heart, may recall an encounter with one Jill Shalvis last year. By all accounts it was not a satisfactory experience, and Roughing It With Ryan had until now remained something of a novelty Mills & Boon example. However, with Catherine Mann's 2008 Desire the author has abandoned any pretence of quality and the first three chapters contain numerous unwarranted attempts at Shalvis-style eloquence, with the littering of darns and damns throughout the prose to give it a chatty, informal air. Mann does not stop there, and ineptly adds long-winded sentences where a simple description of a sand dune becomes a prompt to mention Starr's tragic childhood or sexual past with David. The reader is constantly reminded of character history, implying the majority of the action took place before Chapter One, and there is little to read about in the present. This is a typical fault of the genre, where the lovers previously shared a brief fling, a marriage, or a one night stand that resulted in pregnancy and the billionaire returning to his Greek palace.

Here David and Starr cannot be in each other's company without wanting to touch each other, believing this will inevitably lead to inappropriate public displays of pornography, which they both want, but cannot have for reasons they have no intention of knowing. Mann cleverly uses this to suggest sexual tension, as Starr's blonde, curly hair harkens back to that time David laid her on the golden sands and made love to her. Furthermore, when Starr stands in a room she cannot help but think of the time she and David made love in a room, and when fantasising about having sex with him she immediately recalls all the times she had sex with him. If this sounds hopelessly bombastic and one-note, then you share Bewildered Heart's trepidation of reading the remaining eight chapters.

The question of whether this pair can turn their mutual passion and lack of emotional depth into a successful union seems easily resolved with either David agreeing to stop travelling the world spying enigmatically, or Starr agreeing to tolerate him travelling the world spying enigmatically. This difference of opinion appears to be their only stumbling block, as it was when they were youths when the story should have taken place. How Starr's estranged relatives figure into the plotting is a mystery. Surely they cannot have resolved to change their wicked ways, and presumably they will not have the desired effect on Starr's aversion to travelling the world enigmatically, and therefore they exist solely as a complication for David to fix using willpower and masculinity, proving to Starr he is the upstanding, noble hero she has always known him to be.

This leaves us with one final issue. Will Mann continue to swear non-threateningly, and relate everything to the two central issues of the narrative without any semblance of literary expertise? You can surely bet your bottom damn dollar, damn her, that Mann won't be able to resist gossiping unceremoniously for the rest of the novel, even when she describes Starr and David making love, like all the times previously they'd made love, like that time on the bathroom sink, that had helped Starr forget all those times her parents had betrayed her and left her for dead in the back of that car with the windows rolled up on a sunny day, as sunny as when David and Starr had made love on the beach having gone for a drive, in a car, with the windows rolled down when they were mere teenagers and this loving each other conundrum was a breeze.