I see Kathleen Turner … stoned!

It’s intriguing to consider the various subgenres that romance novelists work in anymore. Consider this passage from “Betrayed,” a “paranormal romance” written by Spokane author Jamie Leigh Hansen that is scheduled to be published in January:

“To mark her vow, she rose on tiptoe and kissed him.

“Kissing stone was just like she’d expected: hard, gritty and entirely one-sided. Her lips covered his, forming to them for one brief moment, her eyes closed against the bright room and ridiculous actions that made sense only in her heart.

“For some reason, her left hand suddenly needed to curl around the back of his neck and her right needed to guard his heart. She needed to rise to her toes and press her lips to his and hold him, promising anything to take away his pain.

“What was she doing? Kissing a statue in the basement of a church, expecting some sort of response – she was going crazy.

“Then something changed. His lips blazed against her lips, scorching hotter than the flames of a bonfire. Hard granite gave way to satin, pliant and seductive. Dry resistance gave way to wet, hot welcome and she sank into it.

“Until this moment, Kalyss had not realized a kiss could be this passionate, this full of desire – this swollen with longing …”

The novel is titled “Betrayed.” But it could just as easily have been called “Romancing the Stone.”