Sitting in a local wine bar, I am writing a sex scene in the midst of people who are likely 10 or so years older than I am — I look at the words on my computer screen and wonder if sex is really that much fun and that dangerous. Who knows? I don’t. I only know my characters are real people, and this is what they know, and what they want from each other.
Who wants to read a book about an evil man, anyway? I guess not many are particularly interested in learning about the oppression of umbrella authority Christianity and its devastating effects on the family, especially on female members of the family.
No one wants to be brought up short by sexual abuse and murder.
I realized again today how difficult it is to promote IN THE SEVENTH DAY. I don’t know what to call it – a crime novel (is it?), erotic literature (is it?), an investigation of the evils of religion (is it?), an exploration of the damned (is it?)… or something else? Or all of these?
I’m fascinated by the characters I’ve created; excuse me – by the characters who seem to create themselves! And I pity all of them (with the exception of one; and no, it’s not Kevin Hillar).
If you read the book, I imagine you’ll realize who I can not pity.
I read through IN THE SEVENTH DAY this morning, and cried again at my ending. Erotic? Somewhat? Tragic? Definitely. Engaging? Assuredly.
The first 3 copies – yep, only 3 – arrived yesterday. I’m sure they were delivered to the wrong address because they showed up late last night on my doorstep. I do hope UPS doesn’t work its delivery drivers after dark – like – after 9 p.m.!
The red color of the font works! Yes, I was worried. Unfortunately it appears a tad dark online, but in person it’s vivid enough and conveys blood quite well.
Re-reading the back cover description, I found myself running through tag-lines again! A Twisted Religion came through this time.
Settling down on my couch with my coffee to read through IN THE SEVENTH DAY – book in hand. What a delight!
Despite being the author of IN THE SEVENTH DAY, I discover – here and there throughout my days – that I shudder when I think of my main character Kevin Hillar, a ‘religious’ man who is profoundly lost.
I can’t recall if I’ve told you that I cried when I wrote the Epilogue.
Apparently little ol’ ladies like erotic fiction – or so says a small bookstore owner in a small southern Indiana community. He used to put a certain highly popular piece of erotica behind the counter until little ol’ ladies came into the store to ask if he sells it. Now he puts it out, low on a shelf, almost out of sight, but not –
I told him he ought to carry IN THE SEVENTH DAY.