And now Control is done. Of course it's not completely done, because now my editor has to read it and probably shun me for all eternity and cast me down into the bowels of Hades or some similar thing, for writing the worst book ever written.
But it's written, at least. 74,200 words. Bucketloads of sex. Too many sweater-vests to count. One pair of pink knickers, many, many dom/sub games, a parcel of menage stuff, a gaggle of made up smutty book names, very little seen of the city of York and a patridge in an up the bum pear tree.
I don't know what to do with myself, now. But I do know that it's very fitting, that today is the day my book went up on Amazon:
It's only available to pre-order on the UK site, at the moment, but I don't care- I'm just relieved it's there. And that the blurb on the US sight resembles the book I handed in, because I couldn't remember what I'd actually written! What if the blurb had said: Madison Morris likes to eat hamsters and shits rainbows? Madison Morris likes dudes who are entirely neutral on the whole dom/sub thing? Madison Morris owns a supermarket and is having it off with a trolley dolly?
Phew. Dodged a bullet, there.