My Secret Life as an Author
Hello, my name is Stacey Harlowe. That’s me, in the white SUV idling behind you in the long line of cars waiting to drop off kids at Emerson Elementary this morning. I’m just another soccer mom stationed in suburbia U.S.A. I’m a touch overweight (who isn’t?) and wear the standard uniform issued to all women with children; Capri pants and a polo shirt. I blend in nicely with the rest of you if I do say so myself.
But that is where the similarity ends. I have a secret identity, a disguise that I put on once the children have left for the day. I am a writer of erotic fiction. That’s right, the bodice ripping historical romances that you see on the shelf at the supermarket. I write for ‘Betsy’s Boudoir’, a successful publishing company that specializes in erotica for women. And I make a pretty good living at it.
The world at large believes that I spend my days at my home computer, processing insurance claims. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. I am busy putting my innocent heroines into dangerous situations that will ultimately lead them to love and plenty of hot sex with the man of their dreams. Oh, yes, and a happily ever after ending, can’t forget that part.
The sexual tension is always thick, the word choices explicit and the plot points often laughable, but when my books hit the shelves at Barnes and Noble that doesn’t seem to matter. They sell like hotcakes.
My disguise is necessary to keep my ‘normal’ life secure. I am positive that my services as Sunday School teacher for the three year olds would no longer be needed if my real employment were known. And do you think I’d be up for election to the PTA presidency for the fourth time in a row if the word got out where my paycheck comes from? I think not.
I can just imagine the look of surprise and horror that would come over your face if your neighbor, the minister, broke the news that Stacey Harlowe from down the block writes ‘pornography’.
“But my children play with her kids,” you stammer. “They’ve been to her house for birthday parties and Girl Scout meetings! She just seems so…normal.”
Well, here’s the deal—I AM normal. I’m just like you in every way except for my job description. So before you make any moral judgments about me, answer this question truthfully. Have you ever read a romance novel? Odds are good that you have and it might even have been one of mine. Someone buys them…and it’s probably you.