My two cents on rape culture in romance.

One ticket to Crazytown, please.... People read romance for the thrill, for the feels, and nothing gets to us more than the image of a man's voice in a woman's ear growling, "You're mine." Am I right? It's primal. It's fantastic. It's also got limits. We want a book boyfriend, not a jailer. (Don't get... Continue Reading →

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