The compulsion started soon after my marriage.

Long before e-books and audiobooks, I furtively read paperbacks whose covers of bosomy maidens and bare-chested men would have outed my obsession. Then, on a family car trip, my husband told my young stepdaughters why I liked sitting alone in the back seat.

“Diane is reading bodice rippers,” he said, citing the old-fashioned name for sexually explicit romance novels. Back then, they were my guilty pleasure.

More than 30 years later, I remain a fan of romance novels, but it’s no longer a craving I feel compelled to hide. In fact, I value the window it opens to my research interests in pop culture, religion and gender.

I’m not alone. Romantic fiction makes up almost 25% of books sold in the U.S., and the genre earned US$1.44 billion globally in 2022-23. The Bible may be the bestselling book of all time, but annual sales of romance novels even outpace the Scriptures.

Written by women, for women

Among scholars, there’s a range of opinions on the genre’s enduring popularity.

Some describe romantic fiction as the literary equivalent of Marx’s “opium of the masses.” They argue that these books are perennial bestsellers because they offer escapism and the promise of “happily ever after” – a quick sugar high to distract from the struggles of everyday life.

Other scholars cite the genre’s pedigree. Though they’re canonized as literary classics, 19th-century novels such as “Pride and Prejudice,” “Jane Eyre” and “Wuthering Heights” can also be read as romances – stories written by women and centered on women’s emotional lives, courtship and desires. In a world circumscribed by the era’s narrow gender roles, these books featured clever, often headstrong women who exercised some agency over their love lives and their fates.

In my view, this explains their popularity: 19th-century readers may have found vicarious pleasure in Jane Eyre’s journey from timid governess to independent heiress and happy wife. Likewise, Catherine Earnshaw’s decision to marry the wealthy Edgar Linton, thus abandoning the penniless Heathcliff, may have struck the female fans of “Wuthering Heights” as an understandable choice.

Nineteenth-century women had limited pastimes. Books that reflected on their own circumstances, albeit with more intrigue and drama, were catnip. But as readership grew, male authors wanted to cash in on the expanding market.

As men penned their own novels, their perspectives dominated, pushing women’s fiction to the side. Changing social mores also made the once popular “woman’s novel” seem dated.

The romance genre was revived in the 20th century when authors added more oomph to their plots and edgier characters. Daphne Du Maurier’s 1938 classic, “Rebecca,” breathed new life into gothic romances – love stories set in dreary, desolate places, intermingled with horror and suspense. And Georgette Heyer revitalized historical romance with smoldering stories such as “The Grand Sophy,” set in England’s Regency period (1811–1820).

Bodice rippers debuted in the 1970s. The name came, in part, from the covers, which often depicted a woman in a half-torn dress being embraced by a buff male. A racier take on the romance genre, they were often set in early 19th-century England and ended in happily-ever-afters. But the characters were sexually active in ways that would have shocked and scandalized Jane Austen’s heroines.

Kathleen E. Woodiwiss’ “The Flame and The Flower” (1972) is widely credited with launching the modern bodice ripper: The first romance novel published in paperback, it became a huge bestseller, despite its graphic rape scenes.

These novels, which debuted in the midst of the sexual revolution, were more explicit than their precursors, and heroines enjoyed more agency in their life choices. That said, the sex was male-driven and often implied that a “throbbing member” could send the heroine into paroxysms of ecstasy.

Lovestruck mafiosos and bull breeders

The digital revolution further transformed romance novels.

Self-publishing, digital publishing and BookTok brought new and younger readers into the mix. Anyone could become a romance novelist, leading to an array of new characters, plots and sexual adventures.

A genre that once mainly featured straight, British aristocrats now embraced Black, Latino and Asian protagonists. There were wanton witches, voracious werewolves and vampire lotharios. Some stories explored alien pairings and lovestruck mafiosos, while in others, LGBTQ characters and professional athletes took center stage. Readers drawn to bawdier fare could dive into erotic fiction, with plotlines featuring women mating with bulls, reverse harems – one woman with several men – and women consorting with multi-limbed aliens.

Many of these innovations have something in common. Rather than sticking to the male-driven plotlines of 20th-century bodice rippers, most contemporary romance writers focus on the female orgasm. Men are far less likely to rush penetration because, before seeking their release, they want their partners to experience multiple climaxes.

But contemporary female characters are not just sexually satisfied. They also enjoy successful careers and close female friends. True to real life, some are plus size or have disabilities. Others were burned in past encounters. They need suitors to scale their emotional walls before blowing their minds in the bedroom.

Women in control

Put together, the genre has undergone a 180-degree turn from the books I hid in the 1990s.

Today’s romantic fiction is less about horny couplings and happy endings and more about exploring emotional connections and power dynamics. Stories also play out the impact of race, class, gender and sexuality on relationships.

Consider the bestselling book and breakout hit HBO series “Heated Rivalry,” which explores the complicated romance between two gay hockey players. It’s beloved by straight and gay female fans for depicting a blossoming relationship characterized by emotional vulnerability rather than toxic masculinity. And it reveals a trend previously underreported: Women like watching gay men enjoying sex.

While the “Heated Rivalry” phenomenon is intriguing, readership also has skyrocketed for romantasy.

Romantasy features unconventional women navigating make-believe worlds populated by magic, faeries and dragons. Some heroines are timid, others are brazen, but they share a drive to succeed on their terms.

The genre took off in 2015 with Sarah Maas’ “A Court of Thorns and Roses,” the saga of a beautiful but impoverished teen who finds herself in the faerie court. Eleven years and two series later, Maas’ books have sold more than 75 million copies. Each novel is kinkier than the last, and they’ve even inspired some readers to spice up things in their own bedrooms.

The success of these new romance subgenres reflects a striking societal shift: Women are no longer shy about being on top. As writers and readers increasingly see powerful women in C-suites and boardrooms, they expect similar strength in the bedroom.

Although what women want has not changed over time, our ability to achieve it has. That’s why the popularity of books by, for and about women is as fervent today as when Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine in “Pride and Prejudice,” fell for Mr. Darcy. But Lizzie Bennet lived in a world where she could do only so much, hemmed in like her real-life counterparts.

Thankfully, women today enjoy more power, agency and pleasure. And thankfully, too, we have a lot more books by, for and about women as we contemplate what lies ahead.

Diane Winston does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.