Tampa police officer watches through an illegal surveillance camera as a woman pleasures herself. An Ybor City-based photojournalist makes love to a woman under the pier at St. Pete Beach. Two University of South Florida professors carry on an illicit affair in the campus library, and a good Greek girl from Tarpon Springs has naked pictures of herself published in a tabloid magazine. These are not your grandmother's romance novels. They are everyday occurrences in the books of Julie Elizabeth Leto, a Tampa native whose erotic take on Harlequin paperbacks is a hot commodity, and whose loyalty to the sensual possibilities of her hometown is taking the world of category romances by tropical storm.
Leto was recently involved in the launch of the most daring line of Harlequins yet — the envelope-pushing Blaze — where a sexy premise and a kinky focus take the place of the traditional romance formula of "brides, babes and cowboys." Leto's novels are aimed directly at the Sex and the City crowd, but her heroines are choosing the sultry and seductive shores of Tampa Bay over Manhattan's high rises or the dusty plains of Texas. Her next book, Just Watch Me, due out on Blaze in March, is a steamy exploration of voyeurism, wrapped up in a quintessentially Floridian love story. It's less "hearts and flowers" and more vibrators and videotape.
Romance in the New Millennium
Even if you aren't one of the 50-million people (9 percent men) in the U.S. who've read a romance novel in the past year, you probably think you know what's inside those Harlequin paperbacks at the grocery store — the ones with the couple entwined in a passionate embrace on the cover. Leto and her colleagues are betting that you're wrong.
"It's a hard thing to get past," says Brenda Chin, a Harlequin Blaze editor, about the stigma surrounding her category line: the shorter "series" novels that are published every month and found more often in Wal-Mart than in Barnes & Noble.
Series novels are the most maligned of the genre. (Longer books published without a set quota per month, as well as those released in hardback and paperback, are referred to by the industry as "single-title romances.") Leto writes series novels for Temptation and Blaze, the sexiest and most "modern" of Harlequin categories.
Romance novels are generally considered cliched and formulaic. Soft porn for bored housewives. But the rules of romance are no more set than any other genre novel. In a mystery there has to be a crime to solve, and in a romance, there has to be a love story. Each category imprint has its particular level of explicitness or general tone (Harlequin Intrigue, for example, publishes only romantic suspense and Harlequin Duets favors romantic comedy), but, aside from those requirements, anything goes in a modern romance novel.
"Some readers associate Harlequin with things that their grandmother reads. They have no idea that it's not like that anymore," Leto says. Explicit sex was introduced to genre romance in the early 1970s. Soon "bodice rippers" and other terms were applied to novels that had formerly contained only a few chaste kisses before the heroine rode off into the sunset with the cowboy, sheik or doctor of her dreams. Fulfillment no longer depended simply on a dream lover, but also on the heroine's independent success. Leto's novels, for example, feature heroines that are tenured Ph.D.s, marketing CEOs and restaurateurs.
"These characters have very strong morals," Chin says, "but they know what they want and they're going to get it." Hand in hand with this independence comes an aggressive sexual appetite. These novels may contain the "Harlequin promise" of ending with a couple in a committed relationship, but the characters get wild before they settle down. "I think we (Blaze) have something that no one else is doing," Chin says. "Yes, there is erotica out there. But if you read it, you see that the heroine will do it with anyone. We promise our readers a committed relationship." Readers might be hard pressed to overlook the new Blaze books on store shelves. Harlequin's aim was to make the paperbacks look more innovative than the usual category romance, and thus better appeal to the twentysomething audience the publisher aims to reach. The new Blaze books weigh in at 75,000 words, 50 percent longer than similar category lines like Temptation, and, though the cover art is far more risque than the average Harlequin book, the graphic design adheres to the category standard of photo-realistic character drawings.
"I think that while Harlequin liked the idea of doing something that's more mainstream, it's so outside their experience that they just default to category," Leto says. "They don't know how to do anything else." Harlequin's recognition factor is at the same level of companies like Kleenex and Q-Tip — the brand name is synonymous with the product — so it's understandable that they would stick with what works.
Romance novelists know they can't convert everyone. They're used to being dismissed by the literary set and derided by other genre writers. Make no mistake — these writers do not have illusions that they are creating the next best thing to Dostoevsky. They're aware that they are genre writers, and that their purpose is escapism. "Someone like Maya Angelou is just awesome — there's no way around it — but she's more of an artist," Leto says.
From Catholic Schoolgirl to Sex Scribe
"I am a rare and endangered species — the Tampa native," Leto says proudly. Her Italian-American family has been living and working in this area for three generations.
She attended Tampa Catholic high school, and, after graduating with a creative writing degree from USF in 1989, returned to her alma mater. For five years she taught English and creative writing. Leto didn't allow her position as a Catholic schoolteacher stop her from penning her ultra-sexy books, although she resigned before she was published. She considers her years at Tampa Catholic, in fact, as formative in her development as an author. "The administration is much more trusting of teachers to present material they feel is appropriate for the students to be reading," says Leto, who has also worked in schools where curriculum censorship was rampant. But Tampa Catholic was a nurturing environment for Leto, both as a student and a teacher. "It's probably one of the reasons I have such a healthy attitude towards intimacy now," she says, "even coming from a Catholic high school."
Despite a few liberal trappings, a Catholic high school is still just that. Tampa Catholic librarian Susan Harrison remembers meeting Leto shortly after her first book was published and was unaware of the type of material the ex-teacher wrote. "I said, "Well, maybe we should have her book in our library,' and about eight people chimed in with "No,'" she recalls. Imagine the stampede of hormone-charged Catholic schoolkids when they discovered what was sitting on the shelves.
Though Leto left Tampa Catholic to focus on her writing career, she maintains strong ties to the school and has even given lectures there. She also remains a committed Catholic. "I had one priest who told me that I was going to burn in hell and one who thought it was the coolest thing ever," Leto says.
More important, she has family support for what she does. "My older brother and my father read all my books," she says. "My youngest brother says he doesn't want to know that I know those things, and my mom just avoids books altogether."
Her husband, Tim Klapka, who works for a marketing firm in Tampa, also refrains from reading his wife's erotic adventures. "He doesn't want to know how my mind works," she jokes. "I think that would scare the crap out of him. My father and older brother know how vivid my imagination is and they know I don't have to experience everything I put in my books. People who can't accept that would have problems."
But that doesn't stop people from speculating. Leto's first book, Seducing Sullivan (1997), was dedicated to Klapka for helping with his wife's "research." "People always ask me about that," says Leto with a laugh. "The truth is, he explained the different parts of a motorcycle (used in a sex scene atop a parked Harley-Davidson). I knew nothing about motorcycles."
Hot As Blazes
"Haven't you ever been on top before?" he asked. She grabbed his waist and moved again, luxuriating in the thick feel of Cade beneath her, inside her, his strong hands grasping her hips, his eyes dark and entirely focused on her. "I don't remember," she said. She could be selfish if she wanted, taking what she needed to reach an orgasm yet again. Cade didn't give her the chance, giving before she could take. He locked taut fingers onto her hips and pumped into her, deceptively languorous and lazy. He sparked an instantaneous fire deep inside which spread over her body like flames on dry tinder … Jillian shouted, screamed, rocked. Cade sat up, captured her mouth and pulled her down as he climaxed, as she felt him pulse inside her. Dizzy, she surrendered completely, allowing him to roll her over, cradle her, their bodies still joined as their bliss slowly receded. —From Just Watch Me by Julie Elizabeth Leto
Leto has no problem sharing the fictional exploits of her characters with the world. Though her books (in the Temptation and Blaze lines) are pushing the envelope of what mass-market media will allow, it still isn't enough for some. "I know a lot of readers — a lot of vocal readers — who, as far as they're concerned, think that if (the characters) are not doing something incredibly raunchy and taboo," she says, "if they're not having sex with animals — it's not sexy enough."
Leto does try to explore a different kink or fetish with each novel, but bestiality is not appearing on her hit list any time soon.
"The first thing we look for in a Blaze or a Temptation is the "hook'," says editor Chin, referring to a setup, or sexy premise, that the plot revolves around. "The big things with Julie's books are the hooks."
Though Chin admits that there's a certain licentiousness of a sultry Southern city like Tampa (New Orleans is another popular setting for Leto's novels), it's the sexy premise that really gets things rolling. Once Leto's characters have found their way into each other's arms, the sex comes hot and hard. Seducing Sullivan (1997) begins with a woman's seduction of an old flame at her high school reunion, and includes scenes of a sexy photography session, a torn leather catsuit, and heavy foreplay on a Harley-Davidson. Private Lessons (1999) stars a stripper who turns the tables on her conservative lover and teaches him every trick in the Kama Sutra. Good Girls Do! (2000) deals with breaking down a college professor's implacable sense of virtue — under the spray of a garden hose, in a mineral bath, and outside in the danger of a Gulf lightning storm.
With the Blaze books, Leto's kinky topics have been easier to categorize. Exposed (2001), her first, revolved around a weekend affair that reveled in exhibitionism, and in her latest, 2002's Just Watch Me, the heroine uses surveillance cameras in a way her detective agency would never approve. And if the story is as hot as Leto's are, it stands to reason that a little of the excitement will rub off on her city of choice.
Though Harlequin doesn't make their print statistics available, a "good run" consists of about 30,000 to 35,000 books sold. Leto regularly sells 32,000 through U.S. retail and book clubs. This figure does not include her foreign sales, which can be extensive. Leto receives fan letters from people all over the world who have read about the romantic potential of Tampa.
"I don't think I've increased the business at the Don CeSar or anything," Leto says. "But I love the beach and agree that our home is the perfect setting for romance novels."
Or perhaps just romance novelists. Leto's chapter of Romance Writers of America is called Tampa Area Romance Authors (TARA) and its membership includes popular authors Virginia Henley, Jasmine Cresswell, and Cheryl Anne Porter. Tampa is also a hotbed for up-and-coming Blaze writers like Joanne Rock, Jeanie London and Susan Kearney. In fact, Kearney, Leto's critique partner, was lured away from Harlequin Intrigue for a short stint in the Blaze line. She and Leto are presenting a Blaze "duet" in August titled Double the Pleasure/Double the Thrill, which showcases each writer's strength — Kearney's way with suspense and Leto's sensuality.
"I really went all out with that heroine," Leto says of the "erotic artist" who stars in the August release. "She's out there — she's got the vibrators, the toys, the nipple clamps. …" Leto discusses her characters as if they're old friends — ones who are very open about their sex lives.
"If you ask my daughter (4-year-old Alyssa) what I do, she says I work at the computer," Leto says. "She knows better than to bother me while I'm there, but she doesn't have any idea yet. She doesn't know I'm a writer."
Still, Leto has no intentions of keeping the details of her profession from her daughter as she grows up: "I have a relative who is putting all my books in a box for her daughters to read when they are teenagers. She's so proud to have an author in the family."
Leto understands that not everyone ap-proves of the books she writes. Though her family supports her career (her sister-in-law, Joy Leto, assists in editing), and her friends have been known to organize book lunches every time a new novel comes out, Leto expects questions from people in the community, especially as her daughter gets older. "You're not going to convert anyone," she is fond of saying. "People will think whatever they want to, and nothing you say will change their mind." But the steamy Blaze line is thriving, and so is Temptation, even in the more conservative areas of the South and the Midwest. In fact, the South buys 37 percent of all romance novels, a higher percentage than the Midwest, a traditional stronghold for the genre. Leto is surprised to hear those statistics. "I wonder about the South, about the conservatism in this area, in relation to the type of books I write. I wonder if they can take it."
Diana Peterfreund is a New York-based freelance writer and former Clearwater resident.
This article appears in Feb 13-19, 2002.