Smells like Love to Me

Edith_layton2

Miss Daisy didn’t talk to me for a whole day.

She turned her back and her tail away from me and sulked in her dog bed. It had been one of a succession of sweltering July heat wave days, and we’d been in the backyard together. I finally had to go in because it was just too hot and too humid for fragile me. And I kept smelling this dreadful stench. It wasn’t until Miss Daisy came in the house that I realized the Dreadful Stench was coming from her. She’d rolled in something she thought was delicious. It – to put it bluntly – stank. I ran four inches of tepid water into the bathtub, picked Miss D. up in a towel, and deposited her in the bath.

daises_love_sun<—Oooh that smell, can you smell that smell?

Have you ever attempted to place a 44 pound stilt-legged crab in a pot of boiling water? That was what it was like. Her toes touched water. She levitated. She fairly flew upright and over me.

PepelepewI finally had to wash her with a soapy towel and then a wet one, and then dry her. And she still stank.

Now, the purpose of this tale is to illustrate that humans aren’t the only animals that try to make themselves smell better. I hadn’t realized that. I thought it was a higher human function. Miss D. reminded me that many animals attempt to improve their smell.  We just spend more money doing it.

Good perfumes are made with vile smelling bases: extracts from sick or dead whales and polecats in heat. Pretty scents are overlaid and voila! Expensive perfume.  I guess Miss Daisy just likes to get down to the basics.

This is historical fact, and as such, I’ve researched it painstakingly. I always try to make my characters think, look and even smell according to their historical periods. But sometimes I have to fudge it because of modern sensibilities.

Dandy_perfumeFor example, in Georgian and Regency times, where so many of my romances are set, men loved to use lavender, voilet and other light floral scents. Napoleon loved cologne and rode into battle scented with his favorites, described variously as lavender water, Hungary Water, and similar.

A hero that smells like flowers? Hmmm.

My regency heroes are usually scented with fern and forest, spice and everything nice.

They say we chose our partners in love and life with our noses as much as we do with our brains. (Maybe more so?)  Modern men use aftershave. Many use too much. The other day I was driving with my windows open and could smell the aftershave of the driver in the car in front of me. Too many fellas think a healthy slap or two of aftershave and they’re ready for love. Get out your handkerchiefs. Some of that stuff is as appealing as a punch in the nose.

For generations in the last century, men smelled of cigarette and pipe smoke, and it was thought sexy. Will writers of the future realize that?  The century before that it was cigars, bay rum and hair oils too. "Hello, Rhett – have a seat. Wait! I have to get an anti-macassar for your chair back."

Boys_smelly

"Smell" is a funny word. "Scent" is nicer. "Odor" sounds bad. But that’s about it for describing good smells. We’ve got three more for the bad ones: stench, stink, reek. Yet scientists say that we’re attracted to our loves by eye, ear, and our noses. I once knew an almost perfect man who nonetheless left me cold because he smelled like shoe polish. At least, he did to me. When I met my one true hero, he smelled of sunshine, clean laundry on the line in a fresh breeze, and an ineffable something male that just about floored me.

Sirens of yore were said to be redolent of tuberose, musk and gardenia. These days women like to smell like fruit salad ( as Mel Brooks observed.) I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to remind people of a melon as I pass by.

I go for the florals, and easy on the musk, because that’s migraine city.

And you? What do you like?
What about your real-life heroes?
And your fictional ones?
I’d love to know: when I write a hero, what do you want him to smell like?

115 thoughts on “Smells like Love to Me”

  1. Oh that’s so funny about Daisy!
    We have the same problem with our little Westie rolling in ukky stuff. She especially likes to do this after she’s come home from the groomers, when she smells fresh and clean and floral.
    What do I like my heroes to smell like … interesting question. My heroines often notice the scent of the guy when they first meet him — it might be an evergreen, outdoorsy smell, or woodsmoke, or some spicy soap (really depends on the time frame!) — and often, with the good smells, there’s a touch of a horsy smell, or that hard-to-define natural manly smell, pre-deodorant days.
    There’s a strong attraction component in natural body scents and the scents gathered from activities — woodsmoke, horses, being outdoors, etc. — I want my characters to take advantage of these underlying, subtle clues, so I try to remember to mention, now and then, the drift of scent as one character gets close to the other. It’s also a way to signify that this character might indeed be The One…he even smells just right. šŸ™‚
    We tend to apply our own standards of bathing and scent to our historical romances — and this I have no quibble with at all. It may not be the most accurate choice, but it’s definitely the more romantic.
    Susan Sarah

    Reply
  2. Oh that’s so funny about Daisy!
    We have the same problem with our little Westie rolling in ukky stuff. She especially likes to do this after she’s come home from the groomers, when she smells fresh and clean and floral.
    What do I like my heroes to smell like … interesting question. My heroines often notice the scent of the guy when they first meet him — it might be an evergreen, outdoorsy smell, or woodsmoke, or some spicy soap (really depends on the time frame!) — and often, with the good smells, there’s a touch of a horsy smell, or that hard-to-define natural manly smell, pre-deodorant days.
    There’s a strong attraction component in natural body scents and the scents gathered from activities — woodsmoke, horses, being outdoors, etc. — I want my characters to take advantage of these underlying, subtle clues, so I try to remember to mention, now and then, the drift of scent as one character gets close to the other. It’s also a way to signify that this character might indeed be The One…he even smells just right. šŸ™‚
    We tend to apply our own standards of bathing and scent to our historical romances — and this I have no quibble with at all. It may not be the most accurate choice, but it’s definitely the more romantic.
    Susan Sarah

    Reply
  3. Oh that’s so funny about Daisy!
    We have the same problem with our little Westie rolling in ukky stuff. She especially likes to do this after she’s come home from the groomers, when she smells fresh and clean and floral.
    What do I like my heroes to smell like … interesting question. My heroines often notice the scent of the guy when they first meet him — it might be an evergreen, outdoorsy smell, or woodsmoke, or some spicy soap (really depends on the time frame!) — and often, with the good smells, there’s a touch of a horsy smell, or that hard-to-define natural manly smell, pre-deodorant days.
    There’s a strong attraction component in natural body scents and the scents gathered from activities — woodsmoke, horses, being outdoors, etc. — I want my characters to take advantage of these underlying, subtle clues, so I try to remember to mention, now and then, the drift of scent as one character gets close to the other. It’s also a way to signify that this character might indeed be The One…he even smells just right. šŸ™‚
    We tend to apply our own standards of bathing and scent to our historical romances — and this I have no quibble with at all. It may not be the most accurate choice, but it’s definitely the more romantic.
    Susan Sarah

    Reply
  4. Oh that’s so funny about Daisy!
    We have the same problem with our little Westie rolling in ukky stuff. She especially likes to do this after she’s come home from the groomers, when she smells fresh and clean and floral.
    What do I like my heroes to smell like … interesting question. My heroines often notice the scent of the guy when they first meet him — it might be an evergreen, outdoorsy smell, or woodsmoke, or some spicy soap (really depends on the time frame!) — and often, with the good smells, there’s a touch of a horsy smell, or that hard-to-define natural manly smell, pre-deodorant days.
    There’s a strong attraction component in natural body scents and the scents gathered from activities — woodsmoke, horses, being outdoors, etc. — I want my characters to take advantage of these underlying, subtle clues, so I try to remember to mention, now and then, the drift of scent as one character gets close to the other. It’s also a way to signify that this character might indeed be The One…he even smells just right. šŸ™‚
    We tend to apply our own standards of bathing and scent to our historical romances — and this I have no quibble with at all. It may not be the most accurate choice, but it’s definitely the more romantic.
    Susan Sarah

    Reply
  5. Oh that’s so funny about Daisy!
    We have the same problem with our little Westie rolling in ukky stuff. She especially likes to do this after she’s come home from the groomers, when she smells fresh and clean and floral.
    What do I like my heroes to smell like … interesting question. My heroines often notice the scent of the guy when they first meet him — it might be an evergreen, outdoorsy smell, or woodsmoke, or some spicy soap (really depends on the time frame!) — and often, with the good smells, there’s a touch of a horsy smell, or that hard-to-define natural manly smell, pre-deodorant days.
    There’s a strong attraction component in natural body scents and the scents gathered from activities — woodsmoke, horses, being outdoors, etc. — I want my characters to take advantage of these underlying, subtle clues, so I try to remember to mention, now and then, the drift of scent as one character gets close to the other. It’s also a way to signify that this character might indeed be The One…he even smells just right. šŸ™‚
    We tend to apply our own standards of bathing and scent to our historical romances — and this I have no quibble with at all. It may not be the most accurate choice, but it’s definitely the more romantic.
    Susan Sarah

    Reply
  6. In real life? Coffee. I absolutely LOVE the smell of coffee. Hubby worked at Starbucks for the first seven years I knew him, and for the first three years we lived together. Nothing was nicer than him coming home and me hugging him with that deliriously enchanting java smell that clung to his hair, skin, and clothes. I was very upset when he got a new job :D.
    As for in my books – I love sandalwood. Well, anything woodsy and outdoorsy, really.

    Reply
  7. In real life? Coffee. I absolutely LOVE the smell of coffee. Hubby worked at Starbucks for the first seven years I knew him, and for the first three years we lived together. Nothing was nicer than him coming home and me hugging him with that deliriously enchanting java smell that clung to his hair, skin, and clothes. I was very upset when he got a new job :D.
    As for in my books – I love sandalwood. Well, anything woodsy and outdoorsy, really.

    Reply
  8. In real life? Coffee. I absolutely LOVE the smell of coffee. Hubby worked at Starbucks for the first seven years I knew him, and for the first three years we lived together. Nothing was nicer than him coming home and me hugging him with that deliriously enchanting java smell that clung to his hair, skin, and clothes. I was very upset when he got a new job :D.
    As for in my books – I love sandalwood. Well, anything woodsy and outdoorsy, really.

    Reply
  9. In real life? Coffee. I absolutely LOVE the smell of coffee. Hubby worked at Starbucks for the first seven years I knew him, and for the first three years we lived together. Nothing was nicer than him coming home and me hugging him with that deliriously enchanting java smell that clung to his hair, skin, and clothes. I was very upset when he got a new job :D.
    As for in my books – I love sandalwood. Well, anything woodsy and outdoorsy, really.

    Reply
  10. In real life? Coffee. I absolutely LOVE the smell of coffee. Hubby worked at Starbucks for the first seven years I knew him, and for the first three years we lived together. Nothing was nicer than him coming home and me hugging him with that deliriously enchanting java smell that clung to his hair, skin, and clothes. I was very upset when he got a new job :D.
    As for in my books – I love sandalwood. Well, anything woodsy and outdoorsy, really.

    Reply
  11. Nothing wrong with aftershave as long as it’s GOOD aftershave: Farenheit, for preference.
    As for for the historicals, I kind of cringe when a writer mentions a man’s “clean sweat” aroma. Somehow I’m not convinced that even clean sweat is going to smell that great. I like the smell of pipe tobacco in its pouch; some pipe tobaccos even smell nice when they’re burning. Woodsmoke is good, and sun-dried linen. Leather; horses… yes, yes.
    Regarding that human-person smell that’s “distinctly him”… it SOUNDS interesting, but it doesn’t really evoke much for me. I don’t know how long it’s been since I actually smelled another person’s clean but un-adjusted scent. If I ever have. I have no idea what that would be like.
    I notice in some romances the author mentions the hero enjoying the heroine’s nice soap odor. Again, rather than being beguiled by the idea, I find myself thinking “how likely is that?” In my experience, scented soap leaves barely a trace on the skin, and even that doesn’t last long. Waste of money, scented soap; I don’t know why I keep buying it!
    My own feeling is that unless you’re talking about an apple orchard in bloom or frying bacon, it’s probably better just to avoid the whole subject of Regency aromas! Scent may be the most evocative of senses, but to read about it is not to experience it. Once you raise the subject you risk the audience’s train of thought zipping off down a spur, wondering (uneasily) what it must have been like to sleep in a bed above a full chamber pot!
    So to answer the question, I don’t really want to start thinking about what the hero smells like, because in reality most Regency men and women would have stunk, let’s face it. Even if they bathed daily (as many romance characters so improbably do), their outer clothing could not have been very fresh. Did those famous coats of Weston’s ever get washed? Could a delicate ball gown withstand the laundering practices of the time?
    This is simply one of those areas where fantasy and reality are going to clash badly and the only way to preserve the illusion of reality while maintaining the magic of the fantasy is to avoid raising the whole question.
    If you ask me.

    Reply
  12. Nothing wrong with aftershave as long as it’s GOOD aftershave: Farenheit, for preference.
    As for for the historicals, I kind of cringe when a writer mentions a man’s “clean sweat” aroma. Somehow I’m not convinced that even clean sweat is going to smell that great. I like the smell of pipe tobacco in its pouch; some pipe tobaccos even smell nice when they’re burning. Woodsmoke is good, and sun-dried linen. Leather; horses… yes, yes.
    Regarding that human-person smell that’s “distinctly him”… it SOUNDS interesting, but it doesn’t really evoke much for me. I don’t know how long it’s been since I actually smelled another person’s clean but un-adjusted scent. If I ever have. I have no idea what that would be like.
    I notice in some romances the author mentions the hero enjoying the heroine’s nice soap odor. Again, rather than being beguiled by the idea, I find myself thinking “how likely is that?” In my experience, scented soap leaves barely a trace on the skin, and even that doesn’t last long. Waste of money, scented soap; I don’t know why I keep buying it!
    My own feeling is that unless you’re talking about an apple orchard in bloom or frying bacon, it’s probably better just to avoid the whole subject of Regency aromas! Scent may be the most evocative of senses, but to read about it is not to experience it. Once you raise the subject you risk the audience’s train of thought zipping off down a spur, wondering (uneasily) what it must have been like to sleep in a bed above a full chamber pot!
    So to answer the question, I don’t really want to start thinking about what the hero smells like, because in reality most Regency men and women would have stunk, let’s face it. Even if they bathed daily (as many romance characters so improbably do), their outer clothing could not have been very fresh. Did those famous coats of Weston’s ever get washed? Could a delicate ball gown withstand the laundering practices of the time?
    This is simply one of those areas where fantasy and reality are going to clash badly and the only way to preserve the illusion of reality while maintaining the magic of the fantasy is to avoid raising the whole question.
    If you ask me.

    Reply
  13. Nothing wrong with aftershave as long as it’s GOOD aftershave: Farenheit, for preference.
    As for for the historicals, I kind of cringe when a writer mentions a man’s “clean sweat” aroma. Somehow I’m not convinced that even clean sweat is going to smell that great. I like the smell of pipe tobacco in its pouch; some pipe tobaccos even smell nice when they’re burning. Woodsmoke is good, and sun-dried linen. Leather; horses… yes, yes.
    Regarding that human-person smell that’s “distinctly him”… it SOUNDS interesting, but it doesn’t really evoke much for me. I don’t know how long it’s been since I actually smelled another person’s clean but un-adjusted scent. If I ever have. I have no idea what that would be like.
    I notice in some romances the author mentions the hero enjoying the heroine’s nice soap odor. Again, rather than being beguiled by the idea, I find myself thinking “how likely is that?” In my experience, scented soap leaves barely a trace on the skin, and even that doesn’t last long. Waste of money, scented soap; I don’t know why I keep buying it!
    My own feeling is that unless you’re talking about an apple orchard in bloom or frying bacon, it’s probably better just to avoid the whole subject of Regency aromas! Scent may be the most evocative of senses, but to read about it is not to experience it. Once you raise the subject you risk the audience’s train of thought zipping off down a spur, wondering (uneasily) what it must have been like to sleep in a bed above a full chamber pot!
    So to answer the question, I don’t really want to start thinking about what the hero smells like, because in reality most Regency men and women would have stunk, let’s face it. Even if they bathed daily (as many romance characters so improbably do), their outer clothing could not have been very fresh. Did those famous coats of Weston’s ever get washed? Could a delicate ball gown withstand the laundering practices of the time?
    This is simply one of those areas where fantasy and reality are going to clash badly and the only way to preserve the illusion of reality while maintaining the magic of the fantasy is to avoid raising the whole question.
    If you ask me.

    Reply
  14. Nothing wrong with aftershave as long as it’s GOOD aftershave: Farenheit, for preference.
    As for for the historicals, I kind of cringe when a writer mentions a man’s “clean sweat” aroma. Somehow I’m not convinced that even clean sweat is going to smell that great. I like the smell of pipe tobacco in its pouch; some pipe tobaccos even smell nice when they’re burning. Woodsmoke is good, and sun-dried linen. Leather; horses… yes, yes.
    Regarding that human-person smell that’s “distinctly him”… it SOUNDS interesting, but it doesn’t really evoke much for me. I don’t know how long it’s been since I actually smelled another person’s clean but un-adjusted scent. If I ever have. I have no idea what that would be like.
    I notice in some romances the author mentions the hero enjoying the heroine’s nice soap odor. Again, rather than being beguiled by the idea, I find myself thinking “how likely is that?” In my experience, scented soap leaves barely a trace on the skin, and even that doesn’t last long. Waste of money, scented soap; I don’t know why I keep buying it!
    My own feeling is that unless you’re talking about an apple orchard in bloom or frying bacon, it’s probably better just to avoid the whole subject of Regency aromas! Scent may be the most evocative of senses, but to read about it is not to experience it. Once you raise the subject you risk the audience’s train of thought zipping off down a spur, wondering (uneasily) what it must have been like to sleep in a bed above a full chamber pot!
    So to answer the question, I don’t really want to start thinking about what the hero smells like, because in reality most Regency men and women would have stunk, let’s face it. Even if they bathed daily (as many romance characters so improbably do), their outer clothing could not have been very fresh. Did those famous coats of Weston’s ever get washed? Could a delicate ball gown withstand the laundering practices of the time?
    This is simply one of those areas where fantasy and reality are going to clash badly and the only way to preserve the illusion of reality while maintaining the magic of the fantasy is to avoid raising the whole question.
    If you ask me.

    Reply
  15. Nothing wrong with aftershave as long as it’s GOOD aftershave: Farenheit, for preference.
    As for for the historicals, I kind of cringe when a writer mentions a man’s “clean sweat” aroma. Somehow I’m not convinced that even clean sweat is going to smell that great. I like the smell of pipe tobacco in its pouch; some pipe tobaccos even smell nice when they’re burning. Woodsmoke is good, and sun-dried linen. Leather; horses… yes, yes.
    Regarding that human-person smell that’s “distinctly him”… it SOUNDS interesting, but it doesn’t really evoke much for me. I don’t know how long it’s been since I actually smelled another person’s clean but un-adjusted scent. If I ever have. I have no idea what that would be like.
    I notice in some romances the author mentions the hero enjoying the heroine’s nice soap odor. Again, rather than being beguiled by the idea, I find myself thinking “how likely is that?” In my experience, scented soap leaves barely a trace on the skin, and even that doesn’t last long. Waste of money, scented soap; I don’t know why I keep buying it!
    My own feeling is that unless you’re talking about an apple orchard in bloom or frying bacon, it’s probably better just to avoid the whole subject of Regency aromas! Scent may be the most evocative of senses, but to read about it is not to experience it. Once you raise the subject you risk the audience’s train of thought zipping off down a spur, wondering (uneasily) what it must have been like to sleep in a bed above a full chamber pot!
    So to answer the question, I don’t really want to start thinking about what the hero smells like, because in reality most Regency men and women would have stunk, let’s face it. Even if they bathed daily (as many romance characters so improbably do), their outer clothing could not have been very fresh. Did those famous coats of Weston’s ever get washed? Could a delicate ball gown withstand the laundering practices of the time?
    This is simply one of those areas where fantasy and reality are going to clash badly and the only way to preserve the illusion of reality while maintaining the magic of the fantasy is to avoid raising the whole question.
    If you ask me.

    Reply
  16. Hmm. Scent is SO important. It ties in and triggers so many memories for all of us.
    People have theorized that lots can be learned about a person based on the scents (and tastes) they like.
    Truffle hunters have even gone so far to say that people who truly enjoy the flavor and scent of real truffles enjoy sex more (perhaps THAT’s propaganda ;-). I’m trying to recall if scent/flavor sensors in the brain are close to those for sex…
    Anyhow..
    I like my man to smell a little spicy, a little musky…Strong enough to be masculine (although I think Napoleon could get away with lavender water as a scent–really, who would dare argue his choice?). The smell of sweat (fresh, not from a day before) is somehow reassuring to me–Perhaps it ties to the old thought that a hard-working man is a superior provider.
    I once bought this great all-natural deodorant from sunrisesoapco.com that had a fabulous mix of scents (lemongrass, eucalyptus–I wish I could remember the others–they layered together so well and worked for hubby and myself). I’ve misplaced it due to travel, but it had a spicy enough scent that it was intriguing. Whenever I wore it people would look at me and ask, “What’s that amazing perfume you have on–It smells delicious!”
    I also find I love a smell of pine (like in Williams-Sonoma’s “Winter Forest” hand lotion. Again, works for either gender. Spicy and sort of sweet.
    I was raised with the idea that a good woman had a “signature scent”–a perfume or essence that was always part of her “wardrobe.” It was also understood that a lady wore a more light and floral scent during the day and something richer (often with musk or spice undertones) at night. Sort of like the difference in daytime and nighttime makeup, I guess. šŸ˜‰
    Now I’m running around the house sniffing everything…LOL
    ~Saoirse

    Reply
  17. Hmm. Scent is SO important. It ties in and triggers so many memories for all of us.
    People have theorized that lots can be learned about a person based on the scents (and tastes) they like.
    Truffle hunters have even gone so far to say that people who truly enjoy the flavor and scent of real truffles enjoy sex more (perhaps THAT’s propaganda ;-). I’m trying to recall if scent/flavor sensors in the brain are close to those for sex…
    Anyhow..
    I like my man to smell a little spicy, a little musky…Strong enough to be masculine (although I think Napoleon could get away with lavender water as a scent–really, who would dare argue his choice?). The smell of sweat (fresh, not from a day before) is somehow reassuring to me–Perhaps it ties to the old thought that a hard-working man is a superior provider.
    I once bought this great all-natural deodorant from sunrisesoapco.com that had a fabulous mix of scents (lemongrass, eucalyptus–I wish I could remember the others–they layered together so well and worked for hubby and myself). I’ve misplaced it due to travel, but it had a spicy enough scent that it was intriguing. Whenever I wore it people would look at me and ask, “What’s that amazing perfume you have on–It smells delicious!”
    I also find I love a smell of pine (like in Williams-Sonoma’s “Winter Forest” hand lotion. Again, works for either gender. Spicy and sort of sweet.
    I was raised with the idea that a good woman had a “signature scent”–a perfume or essence that was always part of her “wardrobe.” It was also understood that a lady wore a more light and floral scent during the day and something richer (often with musk or spice undertones) at night. Sort of like the difference in daytime and nighttime makeup, I guess. šŸ˜‰
    Now I’m running around the house sniffing everything…LOL
    ~Saoirse

    Reply
  18. Hmm. Scent is SO important. It ties in and triggers so many memories for all of us.
    People have theorized that lots can be learned about a person based on the scents (and tastes) they like.
    Truffle hunters have even gone so far to say that people who truly enjoy the flavor and scent of real truffles enjoy sex more (perhaps THAT’s propaganda ;-). I’m trying to recall if scent/flavor sensors in the brain are close to those for sex…
    Anyhow..
    I like my man to smell a little spicy, a little musky…Strong enough to be masculine (although I think Napoleon could get away with lavender water as a scent–really, who would dare argue his choice?). The smell of sweat (fresh, not from a day before) is somehow reassuring to me–Perhaps it ties to the old thought that a hard-working man is a superior provider.
    I once bought this great all-natural deodorant from sunrisesoapco.com that had a fabulous mix of scents (lemongrass, eucalyptus–I wish I could remember the others–they layered together so well and worked for hubby and myself). I’ve misplaced it due to travel, but it had a spicy enough scent that it was intriguing. Whenever I wore it people would look at me and ask, “What’s that amazing perfume you have on–It smells delicious!”
    I also find I love a smell of pine (like in Williams-Sonoma’s “Winter Forest” hand lotion. Again, works for either gender. Spicy and sort of sweet.
    I was raised with the idea that a good woman had a “signature scent”–a perfume or essence that was always part of her “wardrobe.” It was also understood that a lady wore a more light and floral scent during the day and something richer (often with musk or spice undertones) at night. Sort of like the difference in daytime and nighttime makeup, I guess. šŸ˜‰
    Now I’m running around the house sniffing everything…LOL
    ~Saoirse

    Reply
  19. Hmm. Scent is SO important. It ties in and triggers so many memories for all of us.
    People have theorized that lots can be learned about a person based on the scents (and tastes) they like.
    Truffle hunters have even gone so far to say that people who truly enjoy the flavor and scent of real truffles enjoy sex more (perhaps THAT’s propaganda ;-). I’m trying to recall if scent/flavor sensors in the brain are close to those for sex…
    Anyhow..
    I like my man to smell a little spicy, a little musky…Strong enough to be masculine (although I think Napoleon could get away with lavender water as a scent–really, who would dare argue his choice?). The smell of sweat (fresh, not from a day before) is somehow reassuring to me–Perhaps it ties to the old thought that a hard-working man is a superior provider.
    I once bought this great all-natural deodorant from sunrisesoapco.com that had a fabulous mix of scents (lemongrass, eucalyptus–I wish I could remember the others–they layered together so well and worked for hubby and myself). I’ve misplaced it due to travel, but it had a spicy enough scent that it was intriguing. Whenever I wore it people would look at me and ask, “What’s that amazing perfume you have on–It smells delicious!”
    I also find I love a smell of pine (like in Williams-Sonoma’s “Winter Forest” hand lotion. Again, works for either gender. Spicy and sort of sweet.
    I was raised with the idea that a good woman had a “signature scent”–a perfume or essence that was always part of her “wardrobe.” It was also understood that a lady wore a more light and floral scent during the day and something richer (often with musk or spice undertones) at night. Sort of like the difference in daytime and nighttime makeup, I guess. šŸ˜‰
    Now I’m running around the house sniffing everything…LOL
    ~Saoirse

    Reply
  20. Hmm. Scent is SO important. It ties in and triggers so many memories for all of us.
    People have theorized that lots can be learned about a person based on the scents (and tastes) they like.
    Truffle hunters have even gone so far to say that people who truly enjoy the flavor and scent of real truffles enjoy sex more (perhaps THAT’s propaganda ;-). I’m trying to recall if scent/flavor sensors in the brain are close to those for sex…
    Anyhow..
    I like my man to smell a little spicy, a little musky…Strong enough to be masculine (although I think Napoleon could get away with lavender water as a scent–really, who would dare argue his choice?). The smell of sweat (fresh, not from a day before) is somehow reassuring to me–Perhaps it ties to the old thought that a hard-working man is a superior provider.
    I once bought this great all-natural deodorant from sunrisesoapco.com that had a fabulous mix of scents (lemongrass, eucalyptus–I wish I could remember the others–they layered together so well and worked for hubby and myself). I’ve misplaced it due to travel, but it had a spicy enough scent that it was intriguing. Whenever I wore it people would look at me and ask, “What’s that amazing perfume you have on–It smells delicious!”
    I also find I love a smell of pine (like in Williams-Sonoma’s “Winter Forest” hand lotion. Again, works for either gender. Spicy and sort of sweet.
    I was raised with the idea that a good woman had a “signature scent”–a perfume or essence that was always part of her “wardrobe.” It was also understood that a lady wore a more light and floral scent during the day and something richer (often with musk or spice undertones) at night. Sort of like the difference in daytime and nighttime makeup, I guess. šŸ˜‰
    Now I’m running around the house sniffing everything…LOL
    ~Saoirse

    Reply
  21. Actually, *fresh* sweat on clean skin really can be quite pleasant. It is *stale* sweat, especially when emanating from unclean clothing rather than the skin itself, that is disagreeable.
    I have to disagree with Elaine about the smell of soaps: some scented soaps go on emitting quite a powerful pong on the skin for hours and hours. I dislike that almost as much as every aftershave ever invented. Synthetic ‘pleasant’ smells are not for me, even when they don’t actually make me sneeze.
    One of the interesting things about smells is that, like noise, we tend to stop noticing them if they become part of the general background ambience. Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours that would be very obvious to us at first, from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.

    Reply
  22. Actually, *fresh* sweat on clean skin really can be quite pleasant. It is *stale* sweat, especially when emanating from unclean clothing rather than the skin itself, that is disagreeable.
    I have to disagree with Elaine about the smell of soaps: some scented soaps go on emitting quite a powerful pong on the skin for hours and hours. I dislike that almost as much as every aftershave ever invented. Synthetic ‘pleasant’ smells are not for me, even when they don’t actually make me sneeze.
    One of the interesting things about smells is that, like noise, we tend to stop noticing them if they become part of the general background ambience. Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours that would be very obvious to us at first, from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.

    Reply
  23. Actually, *fresh* sweat on clean skin really can be quite pleasant. It is *stale* sweat, especially when emanating from unclean clothing rather than the skin itself, that is disagreeable.
    I have to disagree with Elaine about the smell of soaps: some scented soaps go on emitting quite a powerful pong on the skin for hours and hours. I dislike that almost as much as every aftershave ever invented. Synthetic ‘pleasant’ smells are not for me, even when they don’t actually make me sneeze.
    One of the interesting things about smells is that, like noise, we tend to stop noticing them if they become part of the general background ambience. Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours that would be very obvious to us at first, from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.

    Reply
  24. Actually, *fresh* sweat on clean skin really can be quite pleasant. It is *stale* sweat, especially when emanating from unclean clothing rather than the skin itself, that is disagreeable.
    I have to disagree with Elaine about the smell of soaps: some scented soaps go on emitting quite a powerful pong on the skin for hours and hours. I dislike that almost as much as every aftershave ever invented. Synthetic ‘pleasant’ smells are not for me, even when they don’t actually make me sneeze.
    One of the interesting things about smells is that, like noise, we tend to stop noticing them if they become part of the general background ambience. Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours that would be very obvious to us at first, from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.

    Reply
  25. Actually, *fresh* sweat on clean skin really can be quite pleasant. It is *stale* sweat, especially when emanating from unclean clothing rather than the skin itself, that is disagreeable.
    I have to disagree with Elaine about the smell of soaps: some scented soaps go on emitting quite a powerful pong on the skin for hours and hours. I dislike that almost as much as every aftershave ever invented. Synthetic ‘pleasant’ smells are not for me, even when they don’t actually make me sneeze.
    One of the interesting things about smells is that, like noise, we tend to stop noticing them if they become part of the general background ambience. Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours that would be very obvious to us at first, from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.

    Reply
  26. >> Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours …from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.>>
    Oh, excellent point, Ag Tigress! Our baseline world scent is gasoline, exhaust fumes and jet fuel. Bygone eras had horse sweat, horse dung, wood, coal smoke and human sweat. They’d have thought our world smelled as bad we might have thought theirs did!
    (and Elaine, all the best chamber pots had lids – and if you were rich, you didn’t have to empty them. ;- )

    Reply
  27. >> Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours …from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.>>
    Oh, excellent point, Ag Tigress! Our baseline world scent is gasoline, exhaust fumes and jet fuel. Bygone eras had horse sweat, horse dung, wood, coal smoke and human sweat. They’d have thought our world smelled as bad we might have thought theirs did!
    (and Elaine, all the best chamber pots had lids – and if you were rich, you didn’t have to empty them. ;- )

    Reply
  28. >> Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours …from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.>>
    Oh, excellent point, Ag Tigress! Our baseline world scent is gasoline, exhaust fumes and jet fuel. Bygone eras had horse sweat, horse dung, wood, coal smoke and human sweat. They’d have thought our world smelled as bad we might have thought theirs did!
    (and Elaine, all the best chamber pots had lids – and if you were rich, you didn’t have to empty them. ;- )

    Reply
  29. >> Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours …from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.>>
    Oh, excellent point, Ag Tigress! Our baseline world scent is gasoline, exhaust fumes and jet fuel. Bygone eras had horse sweat, horse dung, wood, coal smoke and human sweat. They’d have thought our world smelled as bad we might have thought theirs did!
    (and Elaine, all the best chamber pots had lids – and if you were rich, you didn’t have to empty them. ;- )

    Reply
  30. >> Just as most of us today don’t notice the revolting reek of traffic exhaust fumes, so people in other cultures genuinely didn’t, and don’t, notice a range of odours …from tobacco to human body-odour to horse-dung.>>
    Oh, excellent point, Ag Tigress! Our baseline world scent is gasoline, exhaust fumes and jet fuel. Bygone eras had horse sweat, horse dung, wood, coal smoke and human sweat. They’d have thought our world smelled as bad we might have thought theirs did!
    (and Elaine, all the best chamber pots had lids – and if you were rich, you didn’t have to empty them. ;- )

    Reply
  31. I personally like to smell like Chanel No. 5. As for my heroes…a little lime, a little leather (not too much horse). I am sooo grateful to live in an era in a country where there are plentiful water and shower facilities. A few generations ago my family was in the Florida Water business (which smells pretty hideous, but does have a lovely bottle). I’d just as soon men skip the aftershave though…everything seems too strong.

    Reply
  32. I personally like to smell like Chanel No. 5. As for my heroes…a little lime, a little leather (not too much horse). I am sooo grateful to live in an era in a country where there are plentiful water and shower facilities. A few generations ago my family was in the Florida Water business (which smells pretty hideous, but does have a lovely bottle). I’d just as soon men skip the aftershave though…everything seems too strong.

    Reply
  33. I personally like to smell like Chanel No. 5. As for my heroes…a little lime, a little leather (not too much horse). I am sooo grateful to live in an era in a country where there are plentiful water and shower facilities. A few generations ago my family was in the Florida Water business (which smells pretty hideous, but does have a lovely bottle). I’d just as soon men skip the aftershave though…everything seems too strong.

    Reply
  34. I personally like to smell like Chanel No. 5. As for my heroes…a little lime, a little leather (not too much horse). I am sooo grateful to live in an era in a country where there are plentiful water and shower facilities. A few generations ago my family was in the Florida Water business (which smells pretty hideous, but does have a lovely bottle). I’d just as soon men skip the aftershave though…everything seems too strong.

    Reply
  35. I personally like to smell like Chanel No. 5. As for my heroes…a little lime, a little leather (not too much horse). I am sooo grateful to live in an era in a country where there are plentiful water and shower facilities. A few generations ago my family was in the Florida Water business (which smells pretty hideous, but does have a lovely bottle). I’d just as soon men skip the aftershave though…everything seems too strong.

    Reply
  36. >>These days women like to smell like fruit salad ( as Mel Brooks observed.) I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to remind people of a melon as I pass by.>>
    Ha! I don’t like to smell like fruit either or any food really, even vanilla. I’ve only been able to find one perfume that I can wear and still like after a few hours (Jessica McClintock) and, unfortunately, its top-note drives a spike through my head so I mostly go scentless.
    My favorite male cologne is Jaguar. I like lots of male colognes (they don’t bother my head for some reason), but have no clue what the ingredients are so descriptions in books don’t mean much to me. I’m another who’s always been skeptical of the “clean sweat” description until recently. I met a man in his “natural scent” and it was very appealing! I actually began to be attracted to him even though our personalities were completely incompatible.

    Reply
  37. >>These days women like to smell like fruit salad ( as Mel Brooks observed.) I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to remind people of a melon as I pass by.>>
    Ha! I don’t like to smell like fruit either or any food really, even vanilla. I’ve only been able to find one perfume that I can wear and still like after a few hours (Jessica McClintock) and, unfortunately, its top-note drives a spike through my head so I mostly go scentless.
    My favorite male cologne is Jaguar. I like lots of male colognes (they don’t bother my head for some reason), but have no clue what the ingredients are so descriptions in books don’t mean much to me. I’m another who’s always been skeptical of the “clean sweat” description until recently. I met a man in his “natural scent” and it was very appealing! I actually began to be attracted to him even though our personalities were completely incompatible.

    Reply
  38. >>These days women like to smell like fruit salad ( as Mel Brooks observed.) I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to remind people of a melon as I pass by.>>
    Ha! I don’t like to smell like fruit either or any food really, even vanilla. I’ve only been able to find one perfume that I can wear and still like after a few hours (Jessica McClintock) and, unfortunately, its top-note drives a spike through my head so I mostly go scentless.
    My favorite male cologne is Jaguar. I like lots of male colognes (they don’t bother my head for some reason), but have no clue what the ingredients are so descriptions in books don’t mean much to me. I’m another who’s always been skeptical of the “clean sweat” description until recently. I met a man in his “natural scent” and it was very appealing! I actually began to be attracted to him even though our personalities were completely incompatible.

    Reply
  39. >>These days women like to smell like fruit salad ( as Mel Brooks observed.) I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to remind people of a melon as I pass by.>>
    Ha! I don’t like to smell like fruit either or any food really, even vanilla. I’ve only been able to find one perfume that I can wear and still like after a few hours (Jessica McClintock) and, unfortunately, its top-note drives a spike through my head so I mostly go scentless.
    My favorite male cologne is Jaguar. I like lots of male colognes (they don’t bother my head for some reason), but have no clue what the ingredients are so descriptions in books don’t mean much to me. I’m another who’s always been skeptical of the “clean sweat” description until recently. I met a man in his “natural scent” and it was very appealing! I actually began to be attracted to him even though our personalities were completely incompatible.

    Reply
  40. >>These days women like to smell like fruit salad ( as Mel Brooks observed.) I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to remind people of a melon as I pass by.>>
    Ha! I don’t like to smell like fruit either or any food really, even vanilla. I’ve only been able to find one perfume that I can wear and still like after a few hours (Jessica McClintock) and, unfortunately, its top-note drives a spike through my head so I mostly go scentless.
    My favorite male cologne is Jaguar. I like lots of male colognes (they don’t bother my head for some reason), but have no clue what the ingredients are so descriptions in books don’t mean much to me. I’m another who’s always been skeptical of the “clean sweat” description until recently. I met a man in his “natural scent” and it was very appealing! I actually began to be attracted to him even though our personalities were completely incompatible.

    Reply
  41. Miss Daisy brought home a wildly exciting scent to share and you failed to appreciate the gesture? LOL! *roll eyes* I once owned a rottie who was convinced she had to bring home a scent to share with the rest of the house every time we went to the park (which was twice a day). She got bathed a LOT!
    I try to stick to the basics with my characters, the scent of clean linen, maybe a little bergamot or sandalwood.
    I once came near to convincing myself I was physically allergic to a man I was dating before we figured out the hives were a reaction to the sandalwood body soap he bathed with. *phew* You just never think about that kind of thing . . .

    Reply
  42. Miss Daisy brought home a wildly exciting scent to share and you failed to appreciate the gesture? LOL! *roll eyes* I once owned a rottie who was convinced she had to bring home a scent to share with the rest of the house every time we went to the park (which was twice a day). She got bathed a LOT!
    I try to stick to the basics with my characters, the scent of clean linen, maybe a little bergamot or sandalwood.
    I once came near to convincing myself I was physically allergic to a man I was dating before we figured out the hives were a reaction to the sandalwood body soap he bathed with. *phew* You just never think about that kind of thing . . .

    Reply
  43. Miss Daisy brought home a wildly exciting scent to share and you failed to appreciate the gesture? LOL! *roll eyes* I once owned a rottie who was convinced she had to bring home a scent to share with the rest of the house every time we went to the park (which was twice a day). She got bathed a LOT!
    I try to stick to the basics with my characters, the scent of clean linen, maybe a little bergamot or sandalwood.
    I once came near to convincing myself I was physically allergic to a man I was dating before we figured out the hives were a reaction to the sandalwood body soap he bathed with. *phew* You just never think about that kind of thing . . .

    Reply
  44. Miss Daisy brought home a wildly exciting scent to share and you failed to appreciate the gesture? LOL! *roll eyes* I once owned a rottie who was convinced she had to bring home a scent to share with the rest of the house every time we went to the park (which was twice a day). She got bathed a LOT!
    I try to stick to the basics with my characters, the scent of clean linen, maybe a little bergamot or sandalwood.
    I once came near to convincing myself I was physically allergic to a man I was dating before we figured out the hives were a reaction to the sandalwood body soap he bathed with. *phew* You just never think about that kind of thing . . .

    Reply
  45. Miss Daisy brought home a wildly exciting scent to share and you failed to appreciate the gesture? LOL! *roll eyes* I once owned a rottie who was convinced she had to bring home a scent to share with the rest of the house every time we went to the park (which was twice a day). She got bathed a LOT!
    I try to stick to the basics with my characters, the scent of clean linen, maybe a little bergamot or sandalwood.
    I once came near to convincing myself I was physically allergic to a man I was dating before we figured out the hives were a reaction to the sandalwood body soap he bathed with. *phew* You just never think about that kind of thing . . .

    Reply
  46. a family friend who has been blending his own mix of loose-leaf tea for years finally began a tea-selling company, after visiting the hills of Ceylon to select precisely which ones produced leaves good enough for his nose and palate
    i swear that when i open the tin the fragrance gives me a rush and i would wear it as perfume if i could – one of the ingredients is oil of bergamot, i believe
    best tea i’ve ever had in a lifetime of tea snobbery
    btw – can be obtained at http://www.anisatea.com. it’s the ‘persian tradition’ blend. there, that’s my shameless plug of the day!

    Reply
  47. a family friend who has been blending his own mix of loose-leaf tea for years finally began a tea-selling company, after visiting the hills of Ceylon to select precisely which ones produced leaves good enough for his nose and palate
    i swear that when i open the tin the fragrance gives me a rush and i would wear it as perfume if i could – one of the ingredients is oil of bergamot, i believe
    best tea i’ve ever had in a lifetime of tea snobbery
    btw – can be obtained at http://www.anisatea.com. it’s the ‘persian tradition’ blend. there, that’s my shameless plug of the day!

    Reply
  48. a family friend who has been blending his own mix of loose-leaf tea for years finally began a tea-selling company, after visiting the hills of Ceylon to select precisely which ones produced leaves good enough for his nose and palate
    i swear that when i open the tin the fragrance gives me a rush and i would wear it as perfume if i could – one of the ingredients is oil of bergamot, i believe
    best tea i’ve ever had in a lifetime of tea snobbery
    btw – can be obtained at http://www.anisatea.com. it’s the ‘persian tradition’ blend. there, that’s my shameless plug of the day!

    Reply
  49. a family friend who has been blending his own mix of loose-leaf tea for years finally began a tea-selling company, after visiting the hills of Ceylon to select precisely which ones produced leaves good enough for his nose and palate
    i swear that when i open the tin the fragrance gives me a rush and i would wear it as perfume if i could – one of the ingredients is oil of bergamot, i believe
    best tea i’ve ever had in a lifetime of tea snobbery
    btw – can be obtained at http://www.anisatea.com. it’s the ‘persian tradition’ blend. there, that’s my shameless plug of the day!

    Reply
  50. a family friend who has been blending his own mix of loose-leaf tea for years finally began a tea-selling company, after visiting the hills of Ceylon to select precisely which ones produced leaves good enough for his nose and palate
    i swear that when i open the tin the fragrance gives me a rush and i would wear it as perfume if i could – one of the ingredients is oil of bergamot, i believe
    best tea i’ve ever had in a lifetime of tea snobbery
    btw – can be obtained at http://www.anisatea.com. it’s the ‘persian tradition’ blend. there, that’s my shameless plug of the day!

    Reply
  51. Oil of bergamot is the key ingredient in Earl Grey blend tea. It’s pleasant enough, but I like my tea to taste only of the leaves of the tea-plant.
    šŸ˜‰

    Reply
  52. Oil of bergamot is the key ingredient in Earl Grey blend tea. It’s pleasant enough, but I like my tea to taste only of the leaves of the tea-plant.
    šŸ˜‰

    Reply
  53. Oil of bergamot is the key ingredient in Earl Grey blend tea. It’s pleasant enough, but I like my tea to taste only of the leaves of the tea-plant.
    šŸ˜‰

    Reply
  54. Oil of bergamot is the key ingredient in Earl Grey blend tea. It’s pleasant enough, but I like my tea to taste only of the leaves of the tea-plant.
    šŸ˜‰

    Reply
  55. Oil of bergamot is the key ingredient in Earl Grey blend tea. It’s pleasant enough, but I like my tea to taste only of the leaves of the tea-plant.
    šŸ˜‰

    Reply
  56. I’m a tea fiend. LOL! For the Beau Monde tea (the Regency chapter of RWA) I brought three period appropriate teas for the members to taste (all of them pure teas, with no additional oils, etc.). It was a big hit. Iā€™m hoping we can do an expanded tasting next year in San Francisco, maybe even with period foods.

    Reply
  57. I’m a tea fiend. LOL! For the Beau Monde tea (the Regency chapter of RWA) I brought three period appropriate teas for the members to taste (all of them pure teas, with no additional oils, etc.). It was a big hit. Iā€™m hoping we can do an expanded tasting next year in San Francisco, maybe even with period foods.

    Reply
  58. I’m a tea fiend. LOL! For the Beau Monde tea (the Regency chapter of RWA) I brought three period appropriate teas for the members to taste (all of them pure teas, with no additional oils, etc.). It was a big hit. Iā€™m hoping we can do an expanded tasting next year in San Francisco, maybe even with period foods.

    Reply
  59. I’m a tea fiend. LOL! For the Beau Monde tea (the Regency chapter of RWA) I brought three period appropriate teas for the members to taste (all of them pure teas, with no additional oils, etc.). It was a big hit. Iā€™m hoping we can do an expanded tasting next year in San Francisco, maybe even with period foods.

    Reply
  60. I’m a tea fiend. LOL! For the Beau Monde tea (the Regency chapter of RWA) I brought three period appropriate teas for the members to taste (all of them pure teas, with no additional oils, etc.). It was a big hit. Iā€™m hoping we can do an expanded tasting next year in San Francisco, maybe even with period foods.

    Reply
  61. Scent is such a great sense for writers to play with, but scents for Regency-era heroes are so difficult. I’m always sure when the heroine is close to the hero she should be aware of the scent of his shaving soap or something of the sort, but I always have a hard time thinking of actual scents that sound period and approrpiate. I end up using sandalwood way too often. Kalen, a period tea and good tasting sounds wonderful!

    Reply
  62. Scent is such a great sense for writers to play with, but scents for Regency-era heroes are so difficult. I’m always sure when the heroine is close to the hero she should be aware of the scent of his shaving soap or something of the sort, but I always have a hard time thinking of actual scents that sound period and approrpiate. I end up using sandalwood way too often. Kalen, a period tea and good tasting sounds wonderful!

    Reply
  63. Scent is such a great sense for writers to play with, but scents for Regency-era heroes are so difficult. I’m always sure when the heroine is close to the hero she should be aware of the scent of his shaving soap or something of the sort, but I always have a hard time thinking of actual scents that sound period and approrpiate. I end up using sandalwood way too often. Kalen, a period tea and good tasting sounds wonderful!

    Reply
  64. Scent is such a great sense for writers to play with, but scents for Regency-era heroes are so difficult. I’m always sure when the heroine is close to the hero she should be aware of the scent of his shaving soap or something of the sort, but I always have a hard time thinking of actual scents that sound period and approrpiate. I end up using sandalwood way too often. Kalen, a period tea and good tasting sounds wonderful!

    Reply
  65. Scent is such a great sense for writers to play with, but scents for Regency-era heroes are so difficult. I’m always sure when the heroine is close to the hero she should be aware of the scent of his shaving soap or something of the sort, but I always have a hard time thinking of actual scents that sound period and approrpiate. I end up using sandalwood way too often. Kalen, a period tea and good tasting sounds wonderful!

    Reply
  66. I adore scents, but in moderation–can’t stand being around people marinated in overpowering scent. I have the blessing and curse of an exquisite sense of smell and taste. I’ve been known to get up and find another seat in the movie theater, far away from someone drenched in scent, but I’ve also asked a stranger at the grocery store what divine cologne he was wearing.
    I have a night-blooming hoya that fills the house with a wonderful aroma every night. One of my favorite scents (don’t laugh!) is Brut aftershave, just about the cheapest grocery store men’s cologne you can buy! Blushing confession: I dab a little Brut on my wrists when I go to bed because the smell makes me happy.
    I’d never thought of sweat as being sexy until a handsome construction worker walked past me. Good clean sweat smell, and my reaction was immediate and visceral–pure lust.
    Edith, I like it when historical writers describe their H/H unique scents. I especially like when they smell of soap or the outdoors, because those are clean smells. I use scented soaps and love the lingering fragrance that remains long after the shower. In fact, I’ve had an unwrapped bar of scented bath soap sitting on my monitor for months. Lovely smell, and again, it makes me happy.
    Everyone knows intellectually that in the Regency era there were numerous objectionable smells, but I don’t want to be reminded of them in a romance unless it is germaine to the story. So Edith, if your hero smells like soap, the outdoors, sweat, leather, or just smells like himself, I’m on him like a chicken on a June bug!

    Reply
  67. I adore scents, but in moderation–can’t stand being around people marinated in overpowering scent. I have the blessing and curse of an exquisite sense of smell and taste. I’ve been known to get up and find another seat in the movie theater, far away from someone drenched in scent, but I’ve also asked a stranger at the grocery store what divine cologne he was wearing.
    I have a night-blooming hoya that fills the house with a wonderful aroma every night. One of my favorite scents (don’t laugh!) is Brut aftershave, just about the cheapest grocery store men’s cologne you can buy! Blushing confession: I dab a little Brut on my wrists when I go to bed because the smell makes me happy.
    I’d never thought of sweat as being sexy until a handsome construction worker walked past me. Good clean sweat smell, and my reaction was immediate and visceral–pure lust.
    Edith, I like it when historical writers describe their H/H unique scents. I especially like when they smell of soap or the outdoors, because those are clean smells. I use scented soaps and love the lingering fragrance that remains long after the shower. In fact, I’ve had an unwrapped bar of scented bath soap sitting on my monitor for months. Lovely smell, and again, it makes me happy.
    Everyone knows intellectually that in the Regency era there were numerous objectionable smells, but I don’t want to be reminded of them in a romance unless it is germaine to the story. So Edith, if your hero smells like soap, the outdoors, sweat, leather, or just smells like himself, I’m on him like a chicken on a June bug!

    Reply
  68. I adore scents, but in moderation–can’t stand being around people marinated in overpowering scent. I have the blessing and curse of an exquisite sense of smell and taste. I’ve been known to get up and find another seat in the movie theater, far away from someone drenched in scent, but I’ve also asked a stranger at the grocery store what divine cologne he was wearing.
    I have a night-blooming hoya that fills the house with a wonderful aroma every night. One of my favorite scents (don’t laugh!) is Brut aftershave, just about the cheapest grocery store men’s cologne you can buy! Blushing confession: I dab a little Brut on my wrists when I go to bed because the smell makes me happy.
    I’d never thought of sweat as being sexy until a handsome construction worker walked past me. Good clean sweat smell, and my reaction was immediate and visceral–pure lust.
    Edith, I like it when historical writers describe their H/H unique scents. I especially like when they smell of soap or the outdoors, because those are clean smells. I use scented soaps and love the lingering fragrance that remains long after the shower. In fact, I’ve had an unwrapped bar of scented bath soap sitting on my monitor for months. Lovely smell, and again, it makes me happy.
    Everyone knows intellectually that in the Regency era there were numerous objectionable smells, but I don’t want to be reminded of them in a romance unless it is germaine to the story. So Edith, if your hero smells like soap, the outdoors, sweat, leather, or just smells like himself, I’m on him like a chicken on a June bug!

    Reply
  69. I adore scents, but in moderation–can’t stand being around people marinated in overpowering scent. I have the blessing and curse of an exquisite sense of smell and taste. I’ve been known to get up and find another seat in the movie theater, far away from someone drenched in scent, but I’ve also asked a stranger at the grocery store what divine cologne he was wearing.
    I have a night-blooming hoya that fills the house with a wonderful aroma every night. One of my favorite scents (don’t laugh!) is Brut aftershave, just about the cheapest grocery store men’s cologne you can buy! Blushing confession: I dab a little Brut on my wrists when I go to bed because the smell makes me happy.
    I’d never thought of sweat as being sexy until a handsome construction worker walked past me. Good clean sweat smell, and my reaction was immediate and visceral–pure lust.
    Edith, I like it when historical writers describe their H/H unique scents. I especially like when they smell of soap or the outdoors, because those are clean smells. I use scented soaps and love the lingering fragrance that remains long after the shower. In fact, I’ve had an unwrapped bar of scented bath soap sitting on my monitor for months. Lovely smell, and again, it makes me happy.
    Everyone knows intellectually that in the Regency era there were numerous objectionable smells, but I don’t want to be reminded of them in a romance unless it is germaine to the story. So Edith, if your hero smells like soap, the outdoors, sweat, leather, or just smells like himself, I’m on him like a chicken on a June bug!

    Reply
  70. I adore scents, but in moderation–can’t stand being around people marinated in overpowering scent. I have the blessing and curse of an exquisite sense of smell and taste. I’ve been known to get up and find another seat in the movie theater, far away from someone drenched in scent, but I’ve also asked a stranger at the grocery store what divine cologne he was wearing.
    I have a night-blooming hoya that fills the house with a wonderful aroma every night. One of my favorite scents (don’t laugh!) is Brut aftershave, just about the cheapest grocery store men’s cologne you can buy! Blushing confession: I dab a little Brut on my wrists when I go to bed because the smell makes me happy.
    I’d never thought of sweat as being sexy until a handsome construction worker walked past me. Good clean sweat smell, and my reaction was immediate and visceral–pure lust.
    Edith, I like it when historical writers describe their H/H unique scents. I especially like when they smell of soap or the outdoors, because those are clean smells. I use scented soaps and love the lingering fragrance that remains long after the shower. In fact, I’ve had an unwrapped bar of scented bath soap sitting on my monitor for months. Lovely smell, and again, it makes me happy.
    Everyone knows intellectually that in the Regency era there were numerous objectionable smells, but I don’t want to be reminded of them in a romance unless it is germaine to the story. So Edith, if your hero smells like soap, the outdoors, sweat, leather, or just smells like himself, I’m on him like a chicken on a June bug!

    Reply
  71. Scents are umm…a touchy… subject. Well, so is touch, actually. How do you describe the touch of different kinds of silk, for instance?
    But scent can be a strong aphrodisiac, so it’s as tough to leave them out of romance as it is to include them. I know my man has his own distinct scent, but heck if I could describe it. And every reader has their individual turn-ons when it comes to scent, so even if we research the subject carefully or use scents that excite us, they’re not likely to affect more than a small part of the population.
    Maybe we should do scratch and sniff books! An exciting new fragrance in every chapter…

    Reply
  72. Scents are umm…a touchy… subject. Well, so is touch, actually. How do you describe the touch of different kinds of silk, for instance?
    But scent can be a strong aphrodisiac, so it’s as tough to leave them out of romance as it is to include them. I know my man has his own distinct scent, but heck if I could describe it. And every reader has their individual turn-ons when it comes to scent, so even if we research the subject carefully or use scents that excite us, they’re not likely to affect more than a small part of the population.
    Maybe we should do scratch and sniff books! An exciting new fragrance in every chapter…

    Reply
  73. Scents are umm…a touchy… subject. Well, so is touch, actually. How do you describe the touch of different kinds of silk, for instance?
    But scent can be a strong aphrodisiac, so it’s as tough to leave them out of romance as it is to include them. I know my man has his own distinct scent, but heck if I could describe it. And every reader has their individual turn-ons when it comes to scent, so even if we research the subject carefully or use scents that excite us, they’re not likely to affect more than a small part of the population.
    Maybe we should do scratch and sniff books! An exciting new fragrance in every chapter…

    Reply
  74. Scents are umm…a touchy… subject. Well, so is touch, actually. How do you describe the touch of different kinds of silk, for instance?
    But scent can be a strong aphrodisiac, so it’s as tough to leave them out of romance as it is to include them. I know my man has his own distinct scent, but heck if I could describe it. And every reader has their individual turn-ons when it comes to scent, so even if we research the subject carefully or use scents that excite us, they’re not likely to affect more than a small part of the population.
    Maybe we should do scratch and sniff books! An exciting new fragrance in every chapter…

    Reply
  75. Scents are umm…a touchy… subject. Well, so is touch, actually. How do you describe the touch of different kinds of silk, for instance?
    But scent can be a strong aphrodisiac, so it’s as tough to leave them out of romance as it is to include them. I know my man has his own distinct scent, but heck if I could describe it. And every reader has their individual turn-ons when it comes to scent, so even if we research the subject carefully or use scents that excite us, they’re not likely to affect more than a small part of the population.
    Maybe we should do scratch and sniff books! An exciting new fragrance in every chapter…

    Reply
  76. Gosh, I’m glad you brought this up. I know (and like) exactly how my husband and two children smell.
    As for my parfum, I use Lili Bermuda, predominently Jasmine, but I like Oleander and Passion Flower, too. They are made in Bermuda (since 1928) of pure ingredients, and hence do not last long, but fade delightfully.
    Other perfumes with lots of chemicals turn (badly) on me.

    Reply
  77. Gosh, I’m glad you brought this up. I know (and like) exactly how my husband and two children smell.
    As for my parfum, I use Lili Bermuda, predominently Jasmine, but I like Oleander and Passion Flower, too. They are made in Bermuda (since 1928) of pure ingredients, and hence do not last long, but fade delightfully.
    Other perfumes with lots of chemicals turn (badly) on me.

    Reply
  78. Gosh, I’m glad you brought this up. I know (and like) exactly how my husband and two children smell.
    As for my parfum, I use Lili Bermuda, predominently Jasmine, but I like Oleander and Passion Flower, too. They are made in Bermuda (since 1928) of pure ingredients, and hence do not last long, but fade delightfully.
    Other perfumes with lots of chemicals turn (badly) on me.

    Reply
  79. Gosh, I’m glad you brought this up. I know (and like) exactly how my husband and two children smell.
    As for my parfum, I use Lili Bermuda, predominently Jasmine, but I like Oleander and Passion Flower, too. They are made in Bermuda (since 1928) of pure ingredients, and hence do not last long, but fade delightfully.
    Other perfumes with lots of chemicals turn (badly) on me.

    Reply
  80. Gosh, I’m glad you brought this up. I know (and like) exactly how my husband and two children smell.
    As for my parfum, I use Lili Bermuda, predominently Jasmine, but I like Oleander and Passion Flower, too. They are made in Bermuda (since 1928) of pure ingredients, and hence do not last long, but fade delightfully.
    Other perfumes with lots of chemicals turn (badly) on me.

    Reply
  81. In the stories–when “our hero” is close enough to whiff, we know the proximity is acute! In nostalgic scents–I remember my mom’s “scent” of doublemint gum, home-baked bread, and clean laundry, my dad’s scent of Beechnut tobacco (very sweet) and Old Spice. DH just always smells CLEAN. I’m afraid the “clean sweat” thing doesn’t make MY temp rise. Maybe if connected with a gorgeous guy?

    Reply
  82. In the stories–when “our hero” is close enough to whiff, we know the proximity is acute! In nostalgic scents–I remember my mom’s “scent” of doublemint gum, home-baked bread, and clean laundry, my dad’s scent of Beechnut tobacco (very sweet) and Old Spice. DH just always smells CLEAN. I’m afraid the “clean sweat” thing doesn’t make MY temp rise. Maybe if connected with a gorgeous guy?

    Reply
  83. In the stories–when “our hero” is close enough to whiff, we know the proximity is acute! In nostalgic scents–I remember my mom’s “scent” of doublemint gum, home-baked bread, and clean laundry, my dad’s scent of Beechnut tobacco (very sweet) and Old Spice. DH just always smells CLEAN. I’m afraid the “clean sweat” thing doesn’t make MY temp rise. Maybe if connected with a gorgeous guy?

    Reply
  84. In the stories–when “our hero” is close enough to whiff, we know the proximity is acute! In nostalgic scents–I remember my mom’s “scent” of doublemint gum, home-baked bread, and clean laundry, my dad’s scent of Beechnut tobacco (very sweet) and Old Spice. DH just always smells CLEAN. I’m afraid the “clean sweat” thing doesn’t make MY temp rise. Maybe if connected with a gorgeous guy?

    Reply
  85. In the stories–when “our hero” is close enough to whiff, we know the proximity is acute! In nostalgic scents–I remember my mom’s “scent” of doublemint gum, home-baked bread, and clean laundry, my dad’s scent of Beechnut tobacco (very sweet) and Old Spice. DH just always smells CLEAN. I’m afraid the “clean sweat” thing doesn’t make MY temp rise. Maybe if connected with a gorgeous guy?

    Reply
  86. Pat’s comment about the scratch n sniff romance novel makes me think of an unusual opera-going experience. . .about 10 years ago, at Prokofiev’s Love for Three Oranges, IIRC–each audience member was given a scratch n sniff card and at appropriate moments in the opera were instructed to smell the scent that corresponded to the action–I think there were things like “vomit” on there (shades of Bertie Bott’s beans)–sublime and ridiculous.

    Reply
  87. Pat’s comment about the scratch n sniff romance novel makes me think of an unusual opera-going experience. . .about 10 years ago, at Prokofiev’s Love for Three Oranges, IIRC–each audience member was given a scratch n sniff card and at appropriate moments in the opera were instructed to smell the scent that corresponded to the action–I think there were things like “vomit” on there (shades of Bertie Bott’s beans)–sublime and ridiculous.

    Reply
  88. Pat’s comment about the scratch n sniff romance novel makes me think of an unusual opera-going experience. . .about 10 years ago, at Prokofiev’s Love for Three Oranges, IIRC–each audience member was given a scratch n sniff card and at appropriate moments in the opera were instructed to smell the scent that corresponded to the action–I think there were things like “vomit” on there (shades of Bertie Bott’s beans)–sublime and ridiculous.

    Reply
  89. Pat’s comment about the scratch n sniff romance novel makes me think of an unusual opera-going experience. . .about 10 years ago, at Prokofiev’s Love for Three Oranges, IIRC–each audience member was given a scratch n sniff card and at appropriate moments in the opera were instructed to smell the scent that corresponded to the action–I think there were things like “vomit” on there (shades of Bertie Bott’s beans)–sublime and ridiculous.

    Reply
  90. Pat’s comment about the scratch n sniff romance novel makes me think of an unusual opera-going experience. . .about 10 years ago, at Prokofiev’s Love for Three Oranges, IIRC–each audience member was given a scratch n sniff card and at appropriate moments in the opera were instructed to smell the scent that corresponded to the action–I think there were things like “vomit” on there (shades of Bertie Bott’s beans)–sublime and ridiculous.

    Reply
  91. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  92. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  93. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  94. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  95. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  96. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  97. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  98. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  99. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  100. Try to feed a good camembert cheese to your dog… with mine, it always has helped. The cheese contains something the dogs need to stimulate their intestinals, something they find in nature only on rolling and eating S***.

    Reply
  101. Oh my but typepad is being sily today, isn’t it?
    I just wanted to say thanks for your advice, Bibiana.
    But the thing of it is… uhm… ahh… unfortunately camembert, good or bad, is also one of those Dire Smells for me.
    sigh.

    Reply
  102. Oh my but typepad is being sily today, isn’t it?
    I just wanted to say thanks for your advice, Bibiana.
    But the thing of it is… uhm… ahh… unfortunately camembert, good or bad, is also one of those Dire Smells for me.
    sigh.

    Reply
  103. Oh my but typepad is being sily today, isn’t it?
    I just wanted to say thanks for your advice, Bibiana.
    But the thing of it is… uhm… ahh… unfortunately camembert, good or bad, is also one of those Dire Smells for me.
    sigh.

    Reply
  104. Oh my but typepad is being sily today, isn’t it?
    I just wanted to say thanks for your advice, Bibiana.
    But the thing of it is… uhm… ahh… unfortunately camembert, good or bad, is also one of those Dire Smells for me.
    sigh.

    Reply
  105. Oh my but typepad is being sily today, isn’t it?
    I just wanted to say thanks for your advice, Bibiana.
    But the thing of it is… uhm… ahh… unfortunately camembert, good or bad, is also one of those Dire Smells for me.
    sigh.

    Reply

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