Happily-Ever-After, Why Do We Love It So?

by Cindy Jacks, guest blogger and author of All the Good Men

The Disney Movie Club shipped me the wrong movie. I’d ordered “Monsters, Inc.”, but I received “Enchanted.” My upper lip curled in disdain at the sight of the cover, but my five year-old son was unfazed by the error.

“Let’s watch this movie, Mommy,” he said, finding (as children often do) the simplest solution to the problem.

Now, I’m a huge fan of Pixar, the quality of their storylines and the detail in the animation makes their movies easy to sit through over and over again. And over and over and over…well, you know how kids can wear out a DVD. “Enchanted,” on the other hand, seemed to me a saccharine piece of shlock I didn’t want to watch even once, much less dozens of times in a row should the little one develop a liking for it. But, thanks to McDreamy’s starring role in the movie, I decided to give it a go. If nothing else, I could stand watching Patrick Dempsey as the charming leading man for a couple hours.

By the second musical number in which rats, pigeons, and cockroaches helped our heroine scrub down the hero’s filthy New York apartment, I was laughing aloud at the funny and astute satire of archetypical Disney princess movies. And though I don’t want to spoil the ending for those of you who want to see the movie, but haven’t gotten around to it, I will say this—by the end of the movie I cheered right along with my son when Princess Giselle wound up with her true love. Okay, I’ll admit it, I even got a little misty. My heart rejoiced though my brain huffed, “What a load of crap.”

Given the predilection in romance and sensual erotica genres for a neat, fulfilling happily-ever-after ending, the movie made me wonder—Why do we love HEA so? In reality almost as many marriages fail as succeed and that doesn’t take into account the myriad of people we burned through just trying to find the person we’d be willing to take a chance on. With a real world full of broken hearts, dysfunctional couples, and blasé pairings, how can we willingly suspend our disbelief and seek out fiction that propagates what some would call the myth of true love?

I finished my long list of reasons why we shouldn’t buy into HEA and then the realization struck me—It is for all these reasons and more that we do crave the fantasy in our fiction. HEA endings allow us to experience vicariously the satisfaction that so often eludes us in our day-to-day lives.

What woman doesn’t want a break from work, motherhood, chores, and the tedious (and often messy) reality of an adult relationship? Somewhere inside of us is a little girl who wants to flounce around the house in a tiara and a tutu. We love to conjure up mental images of a prince who knows how to anticipate our every need, who will catch us each time we fall, and who doesn’t fart, burp, pee on the toilet seat, get cranky or forget to take out the trash.

That we have different tastes as to the form of our princes has given rise to the different icons of masculinity we romance writers use to delight our readers—the dark and brooding vamp who longs for a mate to bring meaning to his soulless existence, the uber-macho warrior who needs the softness of a feminine touch, the rebel without a pause who runs into the one woman that can ease his restlessness, and of course the regal and gentlemanly prince who finds his true, but forbidden love through a chance meeting. Just to name a few.

With our appetite for love and romance sated for a little while by the many incarnations of our princes, we are all the more ready to take on the challenges each day brings. But when the real world gets to be a little more than we can take, we’ll be back at the cinema, the video store, and of course Once Upon a Bookstore hungry for more flights of fancy

All the Good Men
Good things come in forty-something firefighter packages...

Dahlia is sure the hackneyed platitude is true: After a certain age, all the good men are married or gay. She feels her thirty-eight years put her well past that 'certain age.' Her best friend and her sisters dare her to put her fate where her mouth is. The terms of the challenge? During the month of October, she has to end her five-year-long man fast and go on dates with men of their choosing. Oh, and she also has to go out with anyone else who asks.

As the date disasters pile up, the vindication almost makes the torturous evenings bearable for Dahlia. But a handsome new neighbor, Jackson Carmichael, moves in, changing the rules of the game. Retired after twenty-six years as a pro firefighter in Boston, he volunteers with the local fire department, coaches a youth hockey team, and appears for all the world to be the perfect man. He just might throw a wrench into Dahlia's plan to die lonely and single...that is if she doesn't scare him away first.

Her fingers slid over the ripples of his abdomen. Caressing her cheek, he moved in and brushed his lips against hers. Dahlia relaxed against him.

One button at a time, she worked until the shirt fell open. Smooth, cotton fabric glided over his shoulders and fluttered to the floor. She grimaced at his undershirt; just another layer of clothes separating her from his fragrant skin. Pulling it over his chest, she was forced to break away from his embrace to liberate him from the garment. He seized the opportunity to strip her of her t-shirt as well.

Large hands skimmed along her collarbone and followed her bra strap to the swell of her breasts. He folded his arms around her again. Despite the heat that passed between them, his touch gave her goosebumps. His tongue traced the curve of her neck, making her shiver.

Slow, deliberate kisses worked up her throat, brushed past her ear, then captured her lips. A deft motion behind her unsnapped her bra. Shimmying free of it, her bare breasts grazed against his torso. More tremors of excitement darted through her.

Jackson scooped her up and carried her to the bed. Her ruffled comforter felt cool against her back. He leaned in and covered her mouth with his. The dim light filtering through the curtains, the whir of the ceiling fan, even the intrusive red light from her alarm clock on the bedside table—everything else faded away until she was aware only of his warmth, his scent, and the feel of his lips against hers. She lost herself in the rhythm of his heartbeat, her own pulse picking up speed.

A hand slid underneath her skirt and up the length of her thigh. She let out a long sigh as he settled his hand between her legs. Slow, gentle strokes over her silken panties created a throbbing ache she could hardly bear. It'd been so long since anyone had touched her much less so handsome and sensual a man.

Jackson slid down her abdomen and left a trail of kisses in his wake. Her stomach quivered with each light brush of his lips across her skin. Reaching the junction of her hips and legs, his tongue skipped along the crease of her inner thigh...

Author bio:

Prior to becoming a writer of romantic and erotic fiction, Cindy was a 'jacks' of all trades. Besides obtaining a BFA in sculpture, interning as a pastry-chef, and learning the art of furniture restoration, she worked for ten years in the corporate arena, but now happily spends her days as a full time author. Her first published work--"The Point of Distraction Series"--was inspired by a collection of short stories she wrote to entertain her best friend. Since then she's explored her inner bad girl and penchant for love stories by producing books full of humor and packed with real emotion. When not chained to her laptop, she enjoys belly dancing, international cooking, and making jewelry. She and her family call the Washington, DC area home.

email: cindy@cindyjacks.com

website: http://cindyjacks.com

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Tagged as: Cindy Jacks, cockroaches, disney princess, Giselle, leading man, monsters inc, new york apartment, patrick dempsey, pigeons, pixar, predilection, sensual erotica, storylines, true love

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