I have been thinking for a while about how my books have failed to capture much of an audience, despite them having a very important message about how abuse has no place in romance unless the abuser is getting his balls ripped off and shoved down his throat.  This is still something important to me.  As a mother of a daughter growing up in a world where her rights are up for public vote and can be revoked by conservative politicians who believe a woman’s place is pregnant and at home under the authority of a man, regardless of what she wants, I just can’t let this go.  I’m just plain too scared to.

I need a way to get these books into a larger spotlight, and that won’t happen at the rate things are going.

Allow me to just spit this out.

After the third book in the Sacred Trilogy, the one that has been stagnating while I mull over my options, I’m going to leap over to general romance, and try to be more subversive with the messages I want to send.  I could pump those books out faster, and no one expects stellar writing.  With all due respect to Nora Roberts and Lisa Kleypas, my gateway into reading romance when I was a teen, the writing in those books isn’t the greatest, and Roberts’s work especially reads like first drafts.  At the rate she pumped out those books, I suspect they were.  Roberts, though, unlike Kleypas, didn’t usually feature weak heroines taken advantage of by a bunch of Bow Street Runners in storylines I now realize are sometimes bordering on rape, if not outright rape.

There’s really nothing to lose.

The next Grey recap will be up tomorrow.

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