Saturday, July 19, 2025

The Tiffany Problem – When Historical Accuracy Feels Wrong

If you’ve ever written a historical romance and had someone scoff at your heroine named Tiffany, you’ve bumped into what’s lovingly called The Tiffany Problem. It’s not just about names—it’s about the broader tension between historical accuracy and what feels authentic to modern readers.

And it’s a problem every historical romance writer needs to understand.

Wait… Tiffany Is Historical?

Yes! The name Tiffany dates back to the 12th century, derived from the Greek Theophania, meaning “manifestation of God.” It was used in medieval Europe, particularly for girls born on or near Epiphany. But despite its age, the name feels modern because of its 1980s pop-culture boom—cue Tiffany jewelry, teen pop stars, and mall culture.

So when readers encounter a medieval lady Tiffany, they think: That’s not right—even though it is.

Reader Perception Matters

You could write a perfectly accurate character named Tiffany, wearing a woad-stained tunic and quoting Chaucer, but readers might still be thrown off. Why? Because authenticity in fiction isn’t just about historical fact—it’s also about emotional believability. Readers bring their own biases, references, and associations to the page.

Welcome to the Historical Romance Tightrope

Writing historical romance means constantly balancing fact and feeling. Too much accuracy, and you risk sounding archaic or inaccessible. Too little, and you lose the richness of the era. This is where creative license becomes your best friend.

  • Maybe your 15th-century heroine isn’t named Tiffany—even though she could be.
  • Maybe you skip the historically accurate hygiene habits for the sake of reader comfort.
  • Maybe your brooding duke has suspiciously modern views on consent.

It’s okay. You’re writing a love story, not a dissertation.

Accuracy Serves the Story—Not the Other Way Around

At the end of the day, historical accuracy is a tool, not a rule. Use it to build immersive worlds, add texture to your plot, and shape believable characters. But don’t let it override clarity, pacing, or emotional resonance. Your readers came for the romance, the longing, the drama—not a perfect replica of 1372.


So if you love the name Tiffany… maybe save it for your 1980s time-travel romance. Or don’t. Just know why it feels wrong—and choose what serves the story best.

Saturday, July 12, 2025

What Makes Historical Romance Feel Authentic?

A love story is only as strong as the world it’s rooted in.

There’s something timeless about historical romance. The rustle of silk gowns, the slow burn of glances across candlelit ballrooms, the impossible choices in an era defined by duty, decorum, and desire.

But for all the longing looks and stolen kisses, there’s one element that separates a truly immersive historical romance from one that feels like modern characters playing dress-up: authenticity.

So what does make historical romance feel real? Let’s explore the elements that breathe life into the past—and give your love story the weight of history.


1. It Starts With Atmosphere, Not Accuracy

Historical accuracy is important—but historical atmosphere is what readers fall in love with.

They want to be swept away to another time, to smell the beeswax candles and hear the clink of a tea set in the drawing room. To feel the weight of a corset or the threat of scandal in a single whispered word.

This doesn’t mean drowning readers in detail. It means choosing the right details, the ones that evoke a mood, a moment, a world that’s not their own—but feels like it could be.

Authenticity is found in the texture of the setting, not the number of footnotes.


2. Language That Reflects the Era (Without Losing the Reader)

You don’t need to write in 18th-century prose to create an authentic voice—but your dialogue shouldn’t sound like a modern rom-com either.

Think of it like a translation. Your characters are speaking in their own time’s language—we’re just hearing it in a form we can understand.

Use era-appropriate turns of phrase, avoid glaring anachronisms (your Regency heroine probably doesn’t “zone out”), and be intentional with your word choices. Even small shifts in syntax or vocabulary can signal a different time period.

Just remember: clarity trumps cleverness. You want your reader enchanted, not confused.


3. Stakes That Reflect the Time Period

In modern romance, a bad date or a job offer in another city might be the central conflict.

In historical romance? Falling in love could mean ruin. Marriage might be a matter of survival. A single night of passion could destroy a reputation—or a future.

Authenticity comes from understanding what mattered in that era. What were the social rules? The gender dynamics? The risks of crossing certain lines?

When your romantic stakes are deeply entwined with the historical setting, your love story gains urgency, power, and realism.


4. Characters Who Belong in Their Time

An “authentic” historical heroine doesn’t need to be passive, repressed, or helpless. But she should feel like she lives in her world—not like she’s been airlifted in from the 21st century.

Strong historical heroines are possible—when their strength fits their context. Maybe she’s outspoken in the drawing room, but knows when to hold her tongue at court. Maybe she’s a healer, a scholar, a spy—but she has to navigate those roles with the constraints of her society.

The same goes for heroes. A man who respects his love interest’s autonomy is dreamy—but in a historical context, he may have to unlearn the power he’s been handed by his time.

Authentic characters don’t fight the past—they live in it. And that makes their love stories even more compelling.


5. Emotion Is Timeless—So Make It the Heart of Everything

Here’s the magic trick: even as you build historical accuracy, your reader is connecting through emotion.

Love, longing, fear, sacrifice—those things haven’t changed. A letter slipped into a glove or a hand briefly brushing against another’s spine can say more than a hundred pages of exposition.

The emotions are your bridge. Let the setting color them, shape them, and amplify them—but never lose sight of the fact that it’s the emotional truth that keeps readers turning the page.


Final Thoughts: Authenticity Isn’t About Perfection—It’s About Immersion

You don’t need a degree in history to write a historical romance that feels real. You just need to honor the time period, choose details with care, and root your story in emotional truths that transcend centuries.

When done well, historical romance doesn’t just tell a love story—it transports us into it.

And isn’t that why we read romance in the first place?

Saturday, July 5, 2025

How I Balance Steamy Romance With Emotional Depth

When people hear the words romance novel, they often picture breathless kisses, heaving bosoms, and stolen moments behind velvet curtains. And don’t get me wrong—I adore writing those scenes. But what keeps readers turning pages isn’t just the heat between the characters—it’s the heart. The emotional undercurrent. The vulnerability behind the passion.

That’s the kind of romance I strive to write—stories where the physical connection sizzles, yes, but only because the emotional bond is so powerfully real.

The Myth of “Either/Or”

There’s a persistent myth in writing circles (and among some readers) that you can have one or the other: steamy chemistry or emotional depth. As though a book can be “sexy” or “serious,” but not both.

But real love is messy and layered. The sexiest scenes I’ve ever written are the ones where the characters are terrified of getting hurt. Where their desire is tangled with longing, fear, tenderness, and trust. Where a touch means more than pleasure—it means I see you. It means I’m choosing you.

In my stories, physical intimacy is an extension of emotional vulnerability. It’s not just about what happens under the covers; it’s about what happens inside the heart.

The Importance of Backstory

If my characters are going to fall in love—truly fall, in a way that transforms them—they need to bring their whole selves into the relationship. That means scars and all. Past betrayals, broken dreams, deeply held fears—all of it.

When I’m crafting a romantic arc, I don’t start with the first kiss. I start with what’s keeping them from love. What are they afraid to admit—even to themselves? What defense mechanisms are they clinging to? Who hurt them before? What beliefs are they holding that need to be unraveled?

When those emotional roadblocks come to the surface, the physical connection gains meaning. Suddenly, a kiss isn’t just a kiss—it’s a breakthrough. A hand on the cheek isn’t just a sweet moment—it’s a character letting themselves be seen for the first time in years.

Spice That Serves the Story

I love writing steam. Writing desire is powerful, primal, and expressive. But I never include an intimate scene just to tick a box. If it doesn’t serve the story, it doesn’t belong—no matter how tempting it is to dive into another deliciously tense encounter.

Every steamy scene in my books moves the emotional arc forward. It changes something between the characters. Sometimes it reveals how little they know each other. Sometimes it deepens the bond. Sometimes it cracks them open in ways neither of them expects.

And yes, sometimes it makes everything beautifully, painfully complicated. That’s part of the magic.

Power Dynamics and Emotional Safety

Especially in historical and paranormal romance—where power dynamics can be more pronounced—it’s essential to create emotional safety within those charged relationships.

A dominant partner might wield physical strength, magical abilities, or social power. But in my stories, true intimacy only blossoms when both characters are emotionally safe to be themselves. That means:

  • Consent is always clear and enthusiastic.
  • Vulnerability is honored, not exploited.
  • Emotional needs matter as much as physical ones.

There’s nothing sexier than a partner who listens. Who waits. Who sees past the armor and says, “I’m here. All of you is welcome.”

Building Romantic Tension That Isn’t Just Lust

Tension doesn’t have to mean constant flirting or lingering glances (though I do love a good lingering glance!). Sometimes, it’s two characters trying not to want each other. Or one character opening up, only to be pushed away. Sometimes it’s the quietest scene—a shared look across a crowded room—that holds the most weight.

When I write romantic tension, I focus on emotional stakes. Why would giving in to desire be risky? What would it cost them? What are they afraid of losing? What would they gain if they trusted?

Lust creates attraction. But trust creates longing—that deep, aching desire not just to touch, but to be held, understood, chosen.

The Payoff: When Passion and Emotion Collide

There is nothing more satisfying—for me as a writer, and I hope for readers too—than that moment when the emotional arc and the physical connection finally converge. When a character says "I love you" and means it. When the heat explodes not because of hormones, but because of everything they’ve overcome to get there.

Those are the scenes where I sometimes find myself tearing up while writing. Because the story has earned it. The characters have earned it.

That’s the kind of romance I want to read. That’s the kind of romance I want to write.

A Final Thought

Balancing heat and heart isn’t always easy. It requires patience. Craft. Honesty. It requires digging deep into character wounds, and then honoring the slow work of healing. But when it’s done well?

It’s magic.

Because love—real love—isn’t just about passion. It’s about connection. Transformation. Belonging. And when your characters finally get that moment of release—when the passion matches the emotion—it becomes unforgettable.


Have you ever read a romance scene that made you cry and blush? I’d love to hear about the ones that stuck with you—or the ones you're writing now. Drop a comment below and let's talk about the heart behind the heat.