I’m Robin Kaye and I’ve written two books, Too Hot to Handle and Romeo, Romeo, both involving Domestic Gods. Before the publication of Romeo, Romeo, I was concerned that my readers would view my heroes as wimps because they’re not “bad boys.” Dr. Mike Flynn and Nick Ronaldi are men who think the vacuum cleaner, dishwasher and washing machine are power tools. These heroes are what happens when metrosexuals grow up and root. All of this begs the question, what’s the difference between a Domestic God and a Domesticated Man…
Writing a hero who is a Domestic God is difficult because the difference between a Domestic God and a Domesticated Man is like the difference between a cougar and a house cat. They both purr when they get their ears scratched, they both dislike water, but you’ll never train a cougar to use a litter box. Cougars might have all the same body parts as a house cat, but that’s where the comparison ends.
The Domesticated Man does the dishes because he doesn’t want to fight about it. A Domestic God does the dishes to give you the time to take a nice relaxing bubble bath and anticipate his arrival in the bedroom.
A Domesticated Man will pick up the dry cleaning because you told him to. A Domestic God picks up the dry cleaning because he saw it on your to-do list.
Domesticated Men will grudgingly pick up feminine products only in the most dire of emergencies. Domestic Gods don’t mind buying feminine products and think to pick up chocolate, knowing it’ll make you feel better.
Domesticated Men buy take-out. Domestic Gods prefer slow cooking to microwaves in both the kitchen and the bedroom.
Mike, the Domestic God in Too Hot to Handle takes the time to make Annabelle a cup of coffee and leaves it on her bedside table before he takes off for early rounds at the hospital. He does things like stop to buy flowers on his way home and peruse the fresh vegetables at the market to make a pot of Minestra (Italian soup) for dinner. Mike works insane hours in order to get a holiday weekend off so he can take Annabelle away for a romantic weekend at the beach. Then, on his way to pick her up, he packs a cooler full of food to make their stay memorable. Can anyone resist strawberries and whipped cream after a lovely romantic dinner?
Every time I write a Domestic God, I walk a fine line between the hero being—well, a hero, and the hero being a wimp. But after looking at the differences closely, I’ve come to believe that what makes a Domestic God a Domestic God, and a Cougar a Cougar is all in the delivery.