I signed my first book today, a paperback proof for my mother. She hugged it to her chest and told me proudly she will start reading it tomorrow. I’m not sure how I feel about that. “It’s a vicious read,” my husband warned her. She doesn’t care. I wrote it; she wants to read it. When I warned her it contained very mature content and not the romantic sort, she proudly told me she used to read Rosemary Rogers and another author (sorry, don’t remember the name) who wrote romances “but not the nice kind like those Harlequin books that Grandma used to read.”
Yeah, I’d let my twelve year read all of Rosemary Rogers’ books before I’d let her read a chapter of Blood Toy. I’d be more worried about what my mother will think of me after she reads it, except that I did
read sneak her copy of Nine and a Half Weeks when I was about ten years old. What can I say? I was a voracious reader, but a little lazy. I needed another book for my Pizza Hut BOOK IT! reading award, and that happened to be the slimmest volume on my mother’s bookshelf.
For better or worse, my mother will be reading my book tomorrow. And if you pre-ordered, you can be too!