Tamora Rose

Sunday, August 3, 2025

What Makes a Romance Historical? (And What Doesn’t)

Historical romance has long been one of the most beloved subgenres in the world of romantic fiction. Whether we’re following a fiercely independent duchess in Victorian England or a stubborn healer in medieval Scotland, there’s something utterly enchanting about watching love bloom in the past.

But not every book set “long ago” qualifies as historical romance — and not every corset-clad character creates the same immersive experience. So what actually makes a romance historical? And what separates it from stories that just happen to be set in the past?

Let’s dive into the heart of the genre — lace, longing, and all.

It’s Not Just About the Time Period

At first glance, the answer seems simple: a historical romance is a romance set in the past.

But that definition alone is too broad. When in the past? How much historical detail matters? And what if there’s magic involved?

While there’s no single set of rules, most readers and publishers agree that a historical romance typically meets three key criteria:

The setting must be significantly in the past (usually 50+ years ago)
The story must reflect the norms, values, and limitations of that time
The romance must be central to the plot

Let’s break that down.

1. Setting: A Sense of Distance

To qualify as historical, a romance novel generally needs to be set far enough in the past that readers feel a sense of temporal distance. That usually means at least 50 years ago, often much more. Regency and Victorian England are perennial favorites, but so are:

The American West
Medieval Europe
The Gilded Age
Ancient Rome or Greece
The Jazz Age
The 1920s–1940s wartime era

A book set in the early 2000s or even the 1980s might feel dated, but it usually wouldn’t be classified as historical unless it's intentionally focused on capturing that time as a different world.

Why does this matter? Because readers of historical romance aren’t just seeking a love story — they’re seeking escapism, immersion, and a chance to experience love through the lens of another era.

2. Tone and Texture: The World Must Feel Historical

You can’t just slap a year on the title page and call it a day. What makes a romance feel historical is the way the time period influences everything — from how characters speak, to how they move through society, to the challenges they face in falling in love.

A good historical romance shows us:

The social rules that constrain or define courtship
The gender dynamics and expectations of the time
The political or class structures that impact characters’ decisions
The details of daily life — fashion, food, transportation, etiquette

These elements don’t need to take over the story, but they should be woven in naturally. A Regency duke who acts like a 21st-century boyfriend, complete with modern slang and feminist values, might be fun — but it breaks the illusion for readers seeking true historical romance.

That said, there’s a spectrum. Some authors lean into rigorous historical realism, while others allow a more modern tone or progressive twist. Both can work — as long as the story remains aware of its setting and doesn’t flatten history into background wallpaper.

3. Romance Is the Core Plot, Not a Side Dish

This one’s simple but crucial: in a historical romance, the romantic relationship must be the driving force of the story.

You might have wars, rebellions, family secrets, political intrigue, or even murder mysteries happening in the background — but at the heart of it all, the plot must center around the emotional (and often physical) journey of the romantic couple.

If the love story is secondary to a larger adventure or historical saga, the book might be better classified as historical fiction with romantic elements.

In historical romance, the story hinges on love — and readers expect that emotional payoff.

So What Doesn’t Count?

Let’s talk about some edge cases that cause confusion:

❌ A book set in the past with no real historical texture

If your novel mentions it’s 1845 but the characters dress, speak, and behave like they’re in modern-day New York — it’s not historical romance. It’s a contemporary romance in costume.

❌ A romantic subplot in a historical epic

If your sweeping World War II saga includes a love interest but spends most of its time on battlefields, family secrets, and political upheaval, it’s historical fiction — not historical romance.

❌ A fantasy or time-travel romance without grounding

If your story involves time-travel, alternate worlds, or magic, it can still be historical romance — but only if the historical setting is treated with depth and care. Otherwise, it might belong in fantasy romance or paranormal instead.

Subgenres Within Historical Romance

The world of historical romance is vast — and readers often have strong preferences. Here are just a few subcategories that fall under the broader umbrella:

Regency Romance – Set in early 19th-century England, full of balls, dukes, and drawing-room tension
Medieval Romance – Castles, knights, arranged marriages, and fierce heroines
Western Historical Romance – Ranches, outlaws, sheriffs, and frontier women
Victorian Romance – Industrial changes, class divides, and strong moral codes
WWII or Wartime Romance – Love forged through tragedy and separation
Highland Romance – Scottish settings, kilts, and broadswords often included

Each subgenre brings its own flavor — and its own expectations. A reader picking up a Regency romance expects elegance and restraint; a Western might promise grit and resilience.

Understanding those expectations helps writers deliver satisfying stories — and helps readers find their favorites.

The Gray Areas (And Why They’re Okay)

Genres are fluid. And sometimes, the lines blur — especially when you blend tropes or stretch boundaries.

For instance, many popular historical romances today include:

Feminist heroines who push back against the norms of their time
Interracial or queer relationships in eras where they were taboo or hidden
Characters from marginalized or underrepresented backgrounds

These stories are essential. They don’t make the book less historical — as long as the setting, conflicts, and social dynamics are still grounded in the time period. In fact, exploring those dynamics can lead to some of the most powerful and thought-provoking romance fiction out there.

Final Thoughts

Historical romance is more than just love in fancy dresses. It’s a genre that invites us to explore how love survives — and thrives — under constraints very different from our own. It asks: What did it mean to fall in love when society, family, class, or circumstance tried to stand in the way?

A true historical romance doesn’t just tell a love story set in the past. It makes that past feel alive — and reminds us that no matter the century, the human heart hasn’t changed all that much.

So whether you're a reader looking for your next swoon-worthy escape or a writer building your own historical world, remember: it’s not just about the setting. It’s about how that setting shapes the love story at its heart.

Saturday, July 26, 2025

Why Consent Is the Sexiest Thing in Romance

Romance fiction has always evolved alongside cultural conversations—and in recent years, consent has become one of the most vital and powerful elements in love stories that resonate with modern readers. We’re no longer in an era where swoon-worthy moments come at the cost of a character’s autonomy. Instead, the most compelling romances are those where attraction, trust, and agency are in perfect balance.

In this post, we’re diving deep into why consent isn’t just a box to check—it’s the very thing that makes romantic tension believable, intimacy exciting, and characters unforgettable.

The Old Tropes and Why They Had to Go

Historically, many classic romances—especially in older historical and bodice-ripper novels—relied on tropes that modern readers often view as problematic. The surprise kiss. The push-and-pull dynamic that bordered on coercion. The idea that “no” secretly meant “yes.” These stories reflected their time, but today’s audiences are looking for something different. Something healthier. Something that doesn’t glorify power imbalances and emotional manipulation.

That doesn’t mean all the fire and passion has to disappear. On the contrary—well-written consent actually makes the heat burn hotter.

What Consent Really Looks Like in Fiction

Let’s break this down. Consent in romance isn’t limited to a character saying “Yes, I would like to kiss you now” in a robotic tone. That’s not how people talk—or flirt. Instead, consent is woven through every layer of the interaction. It’s:

A pause, a glance, a moment of shared breath where both parties lean in.
A whispered “Is this okay?” or “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
A clear “yes,” whether spoken aloud or communicated with equal urgency.
Body language that shows eagerness, not hesitation.
The understanding that “no” is a complete sentence, and “maybe” means “not now.”

Consent is about attunement—one character tuning into the other’s desires, fears, and readiness. And when done right, it doesn’t slow down a scene. It heightens it.

Why Consent Makes Characters Hotter

Characters who seek consent aren’t weak—they’re confident. They don’t need to overpower their partner to be powerful. In fact, one of the sexiest things a hero (or heroine) can do is say something like:

“I want you—but only if you want this too.”

It’s respectful. It’s seductive. And it creates a deeper emotional connection that makes every touch, every kiss, every stolen glance feel earned and meaningful.

In essence, characters who respect boundaries show strength, not softness. They’re in control of themselves, and they make space for their partner to be in control, too.

How Consent Works in Historical Romance

“But what about historical romance?” some might ask. “Didn’t people have different ideas about consent back then?”

Yes—and that’s exactly why modern writers need to be creative. Even when your heroine is navigating strict social rules and your hero comes from a time when marriage laws were more like contracts than partnerships, you can still prioritize consent.

For instance:

A rake might surprise himself by waiting for a lady’s permission before taking her hand.
A headstrong heroine might say, “You’ll get no kiss from me unless I want it—and I haven’t decided yet.”
A hero might give her an escape route, saying, “If you say stop, I’ll walk away. No questions.”

Historical settings provide the perfect opportunity to show characters breaking the mold. When a man raised with entitlement pauses to ask, "Do you want this?", it signals character growth, respect, and desire all at once.

Consent in Paranormal and Fantasy Romance

Paranormal and fantasy romances often include heightened power dynamics—vampires, fae lords, witches, gods, and shapeshifters. These characters might literally hold life-or-death power over the other. That’s exactly why consent is even more critical in these subgenres.

When a powerful character respects the autonomy of someone physically or magically weaker, it flips the script on dominance. Suddenly, it’s not about control—it’s about choice. And that choice is electric.

Think about how much more tension there is when a centuries-old vampire says, “You’re free to go—but if you stay, I’ll show you everything you’ve been craving.” The choice lies with the other character. That is not just respectful—it’s devastatingly alluring.

Handling Rejection and Boundaries in Romance

Another reason consent adds richness to romantic storytelling is that it forces characters to handle rejection. When one character says “no,” how does the other respond?

With understanding and patience?
With frustration and growth?
Or by pushing forward anyway? (Spoiler: that’s a red flag.)

Characters who accept boundaries with grace become more endearing. And when they later earn that “yes,” it’s more satisfying for the reader because it feels like trust was truly built.

In this way, consent can be a plot device, a character arc, and a source of tension all at once.

Writing Consent That Feels Natural

Here’s the secret: consent doesn’t have to be an obstacle to flow—it can be the flow. Great dialogue, steamy body language, and clear emotional stakes can all convey consent without dragging the reader out of the moment.

Examples of natural consent include:

“I’ve wanted this for so long—if you have too.”
“Tell me to stop, and I will.”
“I won’t do anything you’re not ready for.”
A partner reaching out and waiting—not taking until the other responds.

And remember, consent isn’t a one-time checkbox. It’s ongoing. It can be enthusiastic one moment and withdrawn the next. Your characters should always be tuned in to that.

What Consent Teaches Readers—And Writers

Romance novels shape expectations—especially for younger or first-time readers. When we model healthy, consensual relationships in fiction, we’re offering something deeper than escapism. We’re showing that passion and respect aren’t mutually exclusive. That love thrives where choice is honored.

And as writers, it makes our stories richer, our characters deeper, and our relationships more emotionally satisfying.

The Bottom Line

Consent isn’t just about avoiding the bad—it's about amplifying the good. It’s about trust, connection, and anticipation. It transforms a physical act into an emotional crescendo. And it makes the difference between a scene that’s merely steamy and one that’s unforgettable.

So next time your characters lean in, ask yourself:
Do they know they’re wanted?
Because that’s where the real magic begins.

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?

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