Sweet Tarts and High Heels

I didn't mention this project before, because it wasn't actually anything until this rousing blog post by Dean Wesley Smith this week exhorting everyone to put short stories up for sale.  Since I'm not a short story writer, I didn't immediately  think of this piece I had written a while back.

Then I remembered it and thought well, I liked it at the time and someone I respected really liked it, so maybe since it's complete, all I need is the fabulous formatting (which had me so nuts I was on the verge of buying a Kindle--maybe that's another one of Dr. Evil's plans!) and a cover and I'm there.

Wait.  I have a Tween following.  Do I want a story about a call girl under my name?  No.  I don't.
Read new blog post by Joe Konrath.
Wait.  Second thoughts.
(See, with Libra Rising, I'm happy to let anyone else make up my mind for me when it doesn't count.)
I have some name recognition and Amazon does lump my books together.  (You think this is all about me.  It could be a decision you'll face in the future, too.)  Maybe I'm better off extending my shelf space than protecting the wayward 12 year olds who happen upon this book from a little bit of language and intimations of sex more than actual sex.  Geez, I hope they didn't stay up to see Justified last night.  I was squirming over that.  They can see more on Showtime than I could ever write.

I went with keeping the fake sociologist's name on the cover for now but used my name. 

The cover I like a lot.  $3 at a stock photo site.  It was in color.  I put it in Lightroom and had downloaded a bunch of free filters weeks ago.  I was going through the list looking at the possibilities and there was a set that hangs onto 1 color and makes the rest of the image B&W.  So what looks like a big deal was really 1 click.  What was hard was to make the shadows around both breasts even.  I guess the way the photog lit her, he didn't notice one side was lighter.  It didn't look right.  Darkening shadows must not be a common function or something because there was no quick way to do it without darkening everything and that wasn't the point.

The blurb:

Noel Adrian, Ph.D. wants to know how young and beautiful women become escorts in Beverly Hills.  Of course, they meet Miss Doucette and are recruited.  The money is great, the lifestyle moving among the rich, powerful and attractive is even better.  But as sociologist, Dr. Adrian wants the backstory.

Tierney has no reluctance to sharing her story.  She’s not proud of her life but she’s not embarrassed either.  Her new world is much like her old one but now she’s not scraping by and she knows how to punch back.  But the past is more difficult to shake off than it looks and under pressure, Tierney reverts to what she knows best.  Will this time be any different.