Alpha heroes vs. alpha heroines: Share the love

Amy Andrews, author of Ask Me Nicely, asks why we're sometimes harder on alpha heroines than we are on alpha heroes. Introducing the alpha heroine of her new release …

Amy: I'm a little nervous about Sal. For those of you who've read No More Mr. Nice Guy (Josie and Mack's story), you'll know who I'm talking about. Sal is Mack's kid sister. She's bossy and feisty and hurting and knows what's best for everyone else and isn't backward about telling them. She feeds Josie too many fruity cocktails then makes her write a sex list. She nags Mack about getting back on the horse, the need for rebound sex and buying a new bed. And when she catches Josie and Mack sneaking around, working their way through that list together (in his new bed), she yells at them and inquires as to whether they've been dropped on their heads.

In Ask Me Nicely, Sal gets her own story. And I'm nervous. For a couple of reasons.

Firstly, Sal is incredibly damaged, so it's a much darker book as she finally works her way through the traumatic events that shaped her into the woman she is on page one. In NMMNG she was a secondary character with sass and snark and was a lot of fun. But, in her own book, there's not so much of that as she fights her demons and Doyle from dragging her toward a HEA she's utterly terrified of letting herself have. She's a different person in a lot of ways from what she was the first time around, a much more emotional one. Although the book does, of course, have its lighter moments. There are puppies and kittens and a foul-mouthed Galah. Plus there's very imaginative use of fairy floss (cotton candy) that probably should not be tried at home …

Secondly I'm nervous because, Sal's an alpha woman.

You see she ... uses men for sex. She sets the pace and she makes the rules. She says where and when and how. She crooks her finger, has her fun and sends them on their way. She doesn't do repeat performances, and she refuses to care what others think about her behavior. She certainly refuses to be ashamed of it.

She's hard. She's unapologetic. She wears the pants.

And I'm not sure how that's going to go over with readers. Because, the fact is, women are hard on other women — even fictional ones. I mean, it's OK for a damaged hero to be out there messing around but not the heroine, right? She's supposed to curl up in a ball, become catatonic with grief and never have sex again. Or save herself until the next hero comes along, anyway.

Well, I say BS to that and so does Sal. I say if a heroine has been through the kind of tragedy that Sal's been through, she gets to cope with it whatever damn way she sees fit as long as it's legal, consensual and not hurting anyone. I say that heroines can and should be able to use sex as therapy and not have to apologize or pretend they're not sexual beings even if it's psychologically unsound. I say heroines should be able to sleep with as many men as they want, prior to the hero arriving on the scene, and not have to justify themselves — even the non-screwed-up ones.

Just like heroes.

I say sexual equality for our heroines should be applauded and encouraged. If it's good for one, it should be good for the other.

And I say that a hero who can't cope with that shouldn't let the door hit him on the way out.

But yeh … I'm still nervous … because whilst Sal is hard, she's also broken and I hope readers can see past her past and all her bristles and shields to the damaged woman underneath and root for her HEA with Doyle who, let me tell you, is not only hawt but more than a match for all her alpha-woman crap.

So, what say you? Are you OK with an alpha heroine who has a past she refuses to be ashamed of? Or is that a big hot button for you?

Find out more about Amy and her books at www.amyandrews.com.au.