A book in the genre of “historical fiction”, (meaning, I suppose, that the authoress did some casual researching of the time period she’s writing about before letting her hamster roam wild and free), is a great example of literature as female porn. From the book description (h/t Randall Parker):
For as long as Arienh can remember, her Celtic people have feared the deadly Viking raids. She knows their brutality first hand, having lost the men from her own family and village to their swords. When she encounters and wounds a Viking warrior one stormy night, she has every right to want him dead. Instead, she allows him shelter in her cottage. Although she fears him, his confidence and teasing manner give her pause. He acts as if she belongs to him. As if he knows her.
Ronan didn’t expect Arienh to recognize him. Why should she? They were both just children when his uncle forced him into a raid against her village. But Ronan risked his life to protect the young Arienh from his marauding kinsmen. Now that the time has come for Ronan and the other warriors to choose wives, he has returned to claim the beautiful girl who captured his heart so long ago.
But for men accustomed simply to taking what they want, wooing the courageous, headstrong Celtic women is easier said than done. And for Arienh, who always sacrificed her own happiness for the sake of her people, trusting—and loving—a Northman may be impossible. By turns poignant and humorous, Loki’s Daughters is a stirring tale of unlikely lovers, forged in dangerously opposite worlds yet bound together by sacrifice, strength, and undeniable passion.
If you listen closely to a woman — very closely, to the subtext between the lines, and to the details that trickle from her when she’s giving her inner voice an unrestricted outlet for expression — you will catch glimpses of the true nature of her sexuality. Fleeting shadows of raw desire that flit in and out of awareness, both hers and yours. Invariably these subconscious resurrections all point in one direction — women love to be seduced by dominant men. They dream of submitting to entitled men who confidently claim rights to their quarry. The brutality of Viking violence yields to the mind capture of Viking game, apparently, in the minds of women of the vanquished tribe. This pattern — of women of defeated tribes quickly acquiescing to the rulership and the sexual privilege of the conquering men who slew the women’s brothers and fathers and husbands — is seen all over the world, and has likely evolved to preserve the female reproductive prerogative.
In other words, treacherous disloyalty of convenience is an inseparable part of female psychology. It is bred in her nature, and appeals to logic will do nothing to dislodge or amend it. The only god woman obeys is the god of WINNING.
Have you considered writing some of these books? You might be able to get rich off it. You could push more female buttons per page than the average woman writer manages.
It’s a good question why more men don’t write romantic pulp fiction (aka female porn) for profit, under a female pseudonym if necessary. I guess men aspire to greater accomplishments in life.