Can Everton Jones find out how his father stole Emperor Bokassa’s diamonds and, more importantly, where he hid them; before the world and his brother get there first?
Click on the picture link in the sidebar to read an extract of my first novel, which was published by Paradise Press in August 2012.

Friday, 11 May 2012

Sleaze Sells

I was browsing the Kindle store’s Lesbian and Gay section and was struck by the large number of e-books with lurid covers promising (and delivering, boy were they delivering) rampant and graphic sex. Cool, everyone loves sex. And they do say it’s difficult to get right. Although I suppose writing sex could be considered like performing it. Some people are just good at it, some people have to practice and some people just suck. Anwyay, I was put in mind of an observation on a programme about e-books on the radio a few months back. Apparently, a large percentage of Kindle owners, when asked, said they would not want to have their Kindle returned to them if it were lost. Curious, you might think, until you realise that their Kindle was probably loaded with books they bought cheaply and of which they are not particularly proud. In other words, it was full of smut. Those graphic covers of the books on the shelves of the shops in Soho with blacked-out windows are not the sort of thing you want to be seen reading in the Tube on the way home, however much you want to dive into the steamy, sweaty coupling promised by the picture on the front. And that’s where the Kindle has worked yet another revolution in our lives. Smut can be downloaded and read completely anonymously. You might as well be reading Thomas Hardy or Jane Austin, so far as the people on the bus are aware. Always provided you can conceal the bulge in your trousers and remember when to get off …

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