The phenomenal success of Fifty Shades of Grey has brought romance (of the erotic variety) into the public eye. The book series has sparked all sorts of discussions over feminism/anti-feminism in terms EL James’s plot and characterisation.

It got me to thinking about romance stories, and about the balance of power in them. Is there still room today for a damsel in distress in a romance novel? Is it accepted? Is it an integral part of romance, or a castback to a bygone era?

I think women have always been drawn to strong female characters. As an author, I know that the characters I write have to engage a reader – the reader must connect to them, and empathise with them – and this simply would not happen were I to create feeble, pathetic characters. Plus, I’ve no desire to create heroes and heroines that I do not admire and like myself!

But how far, as a romance author, do you take characterising your heroine? Must she be an ardent feminist, and demand equality with the hero in all respects to the point of never letting him shelter her, protect her, help her, save her? Can she ever melt into his arms; enjoy the fact that he is larger, stronger; wobble in the face of danger and be held up in his embrace?

I think there are areas in which, as author, I must ensure my heroine is strong, courageous, independent and free. So Coral in Burning Embers, for example, is a freelance photographer with a great career; is brave enough to start a new life in Africa; is unafraid to be mistress, alone, of a plantation; and gives as good as she gets when it comes to sparring with Rafe and looking after herself.

But when we read a romance novel, is not part of the appeal the romance – the yearning for a strong male who can challenge a female on her own terms, but also be virile and protective and yes, rescue her when she is in distress? When I read a romance novel, I love a fiery, headstrong, independent heroine, but I also love the moments when she is vulnerable and will allow the man to be her mate in the most primitive sense and look after her. But – and this is the most important part – in return, so too will the hero allow the heroine to ‘rescue’ him when required; he too will show vulnerability. So, for example, in Burning Embers Coral has a car accident, and it is Rafe who finds her and cares for her. But later in the book, Rafe is desperately ill with malaria, and then it is Coral’s turn to save him.

Every lasting relationship is based on balance, and this, I think, is the key to the modern romance novel. We need a touch of vulnerability, and a backbone of strength; a world of opportunity, and a desire to stay rooted; an abundance of freedom, and a tie to another; an ability to stand alone and fend for oneself, but also the humility to accept help when it is needed. Women do not need to be saved, and neither do they need to be dominated; but sometimes, just sometimes, the greatest love can bloom out of allowing another to be the stronger one.