I've Gone To the Pink Side

I wrote a book. In fact, I wrote two. I queried agents. I collected rejections. In desperation, I went to Romania. Erotica agent Lori Perkins tracked me down. A publisher decided he liked my work, but it didn't fit his company's erotica line. In fact, it likely wouldn't fit any publisher's erotica line because there wasn't enough sex in it.

He told my agent to have me read authors Kristina Lloyd, Olivia Knight and Carrie Williams, who write for the label he wanted to fit me into. I went to Borders and found Asking for Trouble by Kristina Lloyd, under Erotic Romance.

It was pink.

Well, it was sort of pink. The title was pink. Or the author's name was. And the rest of the cover had a faint purple glow, which is practically pink. I'm not a pink kind of girl, and I don't read romance. At least I didn't. I fear I may have gone over to the pink side.

I bought the book just after my reading group adjourned for the night and just before they re-journed for drinks at a nearby restaurant. As I had not yet seen the light, I moaned and complained about the pinkness. The others insisted on taking a look. They discovered the casual use of words like “fuck” and “cunt.” It cheered me up, especially since they were my spirituality reading group and seemed to get just as much enjoyment from the discovery as I did.

I read the book. Let's just say I'll be reading more Kristina Lloyd in the near future, just as soon as I'm finished with A Girl's Guide to Vampires by Katie MacAlister.