You’ll never believe what sub-genre is one of the best-selling in romance. It’s paranormal, specifically the werewolf variety. Actually, that would be werewolf and vampire romance, and if you’ve ever seen Underworld and/or its sequel, well, you’d be very close to seeing what the genre is like in romance.

In werewolf romances, the hero is typically, well, a werewolf. He looks human one moment, and in another he’s a beast—lots of fur, lots of teeth, lots of claws, and lots of growling and howling. It’s really quite romantic.

When the male werewolf happens to meet his mate—and I don’t mean just any woman; she’s got to be The One, the one life mate—he knows it immediately. No doubt in his mind at all—this is the one. And how does he know? The werewolf is irresistably attracted to her scent. It’s both calming and arousing, and the muskier she is, the more he likes it. He likes the smell of her, the taste of her, and he can have no peace unless he’s with her or around her. When he gets extremely excited, he tends to bite or revert to his beastly form.

I didn’t know all this until I started reading a few of the werewolf romances myself … and I read them because, naturally, I had to see why my royalty statements were the way they were. But every time I read these things, I realize more and more that, oh my goodness, H.E. is a werewolf, and I didn’t even know it. And I must be the one because he sure acts like a werewolf who has met his mate.

Only, I’m the one who usually bites.

So I guess that kind of wrecks my theory.

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