Tumperkin of Isn’t it Romance? and Jessica of Racy Romance Reviews have both written wonderfully snarky posts about smell. Romance heroes and heroines seem to recognize the most obscure fragrances. Authors also have odd ways of describing how a character smells. Vague metaphors like “sunshine” or “sin” are common.

As with many other romance clichés, I love this one. Scent is an important part of sexual chemistry. Give me a hero that smells like sandalwood, or summer rain, or hard work. Being able to recognize a fragrance, and recreate it in my imagination, sharpens the reading experience for me.

I admire the way Lara Adrian paints a sensual picture in her Midnight Breed series. The heroes are vampires who can smell unshed blood. Each heroine’s blood has a unique fragrance that the heroes find irresistible. Adrian creates something very dark and luscious with these interesting sensory details.

Shay Phillips, the heroine of Set the Dark on Fire, is a wildlife biologist, not a vampire. She smells like sage. This plant grows all over southern California, and it has good associations for me. I guess I would describe the fragrance as pleasant and herbal. Maybe a little bohemian. Shay is a nature lover who spends her work day outdoors, so having her smell like sage is logical.

The hero, Luke Meza, responds to Shay’s scent in a predictable masculine way, with much vivid mental lusting and failed attempts to resist her allure. In one early scene, Shay and Luke have to jump into Deep Creek. To dry off afterward, they stretch out on a rock in the sun. He asks her a few uncomfortable questions, and she decides to return the favor.

“Have you ever been married?”

“No.” His tone suggested he didn’t care for the topic.

She pressed on, undeterred. “Do you have a girlfriend back in Vegas?”

“No.”

“Don’t you like women?”

He shifted beside her, lifting the arm that was covering his face. Too late, she realized how provocative her question sounded. She could feel the heat of his gaze all over her body. Her nipples tightened, pebbling against the lace of her bra, and a beat pulsed between her legs. The sun was shining on the front of her panties, soaking them in warmth, and the sensation was so pleasurable she had to smother a moan.

She wanted to squeeze her legs together to ease the ache.

Instead, she sat up. Desperate to find something else to focus on, she reached out and plucked a green sprig from the plant next to her. “This is white sage,” she said inanely, because he was still watching her. “Cowboys used it for deodorant.” Like a moron, she rubbed the tiny leaves against her armpit to demonstrate.

His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared.

It was a pleasant fragrance, she supposed. Better than skunk, anyway. “Do you want some?” Twisting off another sprig, she held it out to him, moistening her dry lips.

He moved so fast she gasped. Ignoring the sage, he took her upper arms in his hands, pressing the full length of his body against hers. When the hard wall of his chest met her lace-covered breasts, the sprig of sage fell from her hand, forgotten. “Do you always get what you ask for?” he said, his eyes on her mouth.

He was breathing hard, and she could feel tension in his pectoral muscles and the tautness of his abdomen. More to the point, she could feel the exciting proof of his arousal, nudging the sweet spot between her legs.

“Yes,” she said, brushing her lips over his, answering the question his body was asking rather than the one his mouth had posed.

Do you like it when characters have a specific fragrance, or would you rather use your imagination? Is the sense of smell overused in romance?

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