Don’t get me wrong, I’ve written before. Part of my evil day job is spent writing some kind of thing or another. I’m pretty creative with blank greeting cards, too.

But write a book?

I’ve dabbled at writing stories since I was a kid, but I never really thought about putting in all the time and effort required to write a book other people might buy.

That’s a big deal! I’m creating something with the hope that people — readers — will like it enough to pay for it.

Now I’ve never been so well-off that even a dollar wasn’t a prized possession. Everything’s gotta be worth it.

Am I worth it?

That…I don’t know. I hope so. I hope what I have to say in these books is worth the price of reading them. Because that’s why I’ve decided to go from being a reader to becoming an author: I feel like maybe I have something to say.

Now I’m not doing anything groundbreaking or speaking some truth the world needs. Don’t make me laugh! I know they’re fluffy little romances about gay guys falling in love with monsters and aliens and mythological creatures. And the sex is pretty incendiary if I do say so myself. But they’re still feel-good fiction and probably won’t win any awards.

Well, maybe? That’d be nice.

What I have to say is really about my imagination when it comes to these beings and the men who love them. I want to share my take on tentacles and fur and fangs and why they might be what turns some guy’s crank past a hundred.

I hope you’ll come along and that you’ll think my books are worth it.

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