Why do people love
Holmes? by Suz deMello
(tags: #sherlock #erotica #victoriana @AllRomance)
I will readily admit that I am a Sherlock Holmes fan. No, a
fanatic.
Taken the Goodreads quiz on Holmes? Try it—I got 100%
(grinning). I thought it was (ahem) elementary.
But why do people love Holmes?
The character wasn’t initially popular. According to
Wikipedia, A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of the Four (its first title)
didn’t sell well. The short stories, initially published by The Strand Magazine, were the works that
ignited the public’s imagination. The first, A Scandal in Bohemia, was published in 1891.
I know why I love Holmes—I’m a sapiensexual. I’m turned on
by brains. I’m literally repelled by men who mix up well and good or who don’t
hold their cutlery correctly. (A great face, cute smile and buffed bod are also
important, along with a sweet soul).
These days, we love hot heroes with brains as well as flaws.
Sherlock is complex. He has a lightning-fast wit but the emotional I.Q. of a
boulder. He’s interesting. The reigning Holmes, BBC’s Sherlock, describes himself as a “high-functioning sociopath.” I’d
add, with a touch of Asperger’s.
Upon publication, however, Sherlock appeared in a very
different world.
In 1888, a serial killer started a rampage in an area of
London still called Whitechapel. We do not know the number of murders committed
by Jack the Ripper. Five brutal killings are apparently linked, but as many as
six more could have been the work of the same slayer.
The number, frequency, and brutality of the homicides
terrorized London even after they ended in 1891. Unhappy with official efforts
to catch the killer, citizens formed the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee and
walked the streets searching for suspects.
Police received hundreds of letters purporting to contain leads, most of
which were useless. Though serial killers have appeared throughout human
history, the Ripper was the first to ignite a media frenzy (Wikipedia).
People cling to certainty in an uncertain world. To a city gripped
by dread, the cool, calm, logical Holmes, a detective who unerringly solved
every case, was an inspirational hero bringing comfort in a frightening world.
My version of Holmes, from Sherlock’s Scandal, isn’t so cool, calm, and logical. Here’s a
snippet to pique your interest:
After
the performance, I purchased a bouquet of red roses from one of Covent Garden’s
ever-present flower-sellers and posted myself at the stage door to see if I
could meet the lady. When she finally emerged, she had cleaned her face of
stage makeup and changed out of her costume into a stunning gown of midnight
velvet. I am no connoisseur of women’s fashions, but I will never forget the
sight. Her décolletage was fetchingly displayed by a lace-trimmed bodice cut so
low it exposed her admirable bosom almost all the way down to the nipples,
which I promised myself I’d lick that night. She must have bound her breasts
for the role, I realized hazily, trying not to stare.
I
cleared my throat. “Good evening, Miss Adler.” I offered her the flowers.
She
took them and buried her face in the petals to inhale their scent. I hoped her open enjoyment of the fragrance
betokened a sensual nature. She looked up, saying, “Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”
I
lifted my brows, fixing on her full lips and large, sparkling eyes in order to
avoid crudely ogling her breasts.
“Of
course I know who you are.” Off-stage, her American accent was pronounced but not
unpleasant.
“I
am most flattered.” I offered her my arm. She took it, and we strolled to the
kerb, where a hansom waited.
In
the intimate interior of the cab, I could scent her perfume, a flowery aroma
that blended delightfully with the roses she still clasped. “May I invite you
to a late supper?”
“Thank
you.” She daintily arranged her skirts, favoring me with a glimpse of one neat
ankle.
My
member hardened, and I blessed my dinner suit’s loose, comfortable trousers. I
drew a deep breath, hoping to calm my hot blood and racing pulse. “Uh, uhm,
Sampson’s?”
“Beefsteaks?
A fortifying meal for so late in the evening. Will I be in need of
fortification, Mr. Holmes?” she asked. Her eyes were partially shadowed by
lowered lids.
“Yes,”
I said. “You will.”
She
raised her gaze, boldly meeting mine. I leaned closer and put a finger beneath
her chin. Her skin was soft over a strong jaw, testimony of a determined
character.
My
chest clenched in a most peculiar manner. Had I met my match?
It was rude, and crude, and forward, but I could not
resist. I had to taste her mouth.
All Romance Ebooks has the best price for this short
story—here’s a link:
Hope you enjoy it! I truly loved writing it.
Here’s a
little about me:
>
Best-selling,
award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written seventeen romance novels in several
subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and
suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A
freelance editor, she’s held the positions of managing editor and senior
editor, working for such firms Total-E-Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press.
She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained
the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, her passion is world
travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working
overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
find Suzie’s books here:
http://www.tinyurl.com/SuzDeMello
(publisher’s site)
Thanks for hosting me, Barbara!
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