I live in a neighborhood blossoming with female writers. Cheryl Strayed lives just down the street, and Whitney Otto around the corner. My friend, Pamela Lindholm-Levy, who lives a block or two beyond Ms. Strayed, has recently published 'Count the Mountains' an interesting historical novel about life in early Colorado.
It must have been all these shining examples that caused the pseudonymous, 'Desiree Cayenne' to seek my help in publishing her stories.
"Why?" I asked.
"I'm a writer." she said. "I need to express myself."
"So?" I said, "The stories are already written, or you might say 'already expressed'. Publishing is different. Everybody and her Aunt Jane are publishing books. Amazon can't give them away fast enough."
"I don't care about fortune. I want to be famous."
"That's just silly," I said, "You're so shy even your best friends don't know your real name."
"Sorry. You're right. I don't want to be famous--I want 'Desiree' to be famous."
"So... You prefer to remain infamous."
"Ha... Ha... Ha..." she pretended to laugh. "Very funny. Are you going to help, or not?"
Sure. Why not? Desiree's books include the slightly risque, THE GARDENER'S APPRENTICE, written for women who can dare to contemplate sex and humor in the same story. She is also writing the slightly more advanced, FRANKIE HILL, for senior members of that same tiny demographic.
They were originally published at $2.99, because, as her publisher, I couldn't figure out how to make them cheaper--and (alas) $2.99 does not appear to be the right price. At least, none of them have ever sold. I feel a bit sorry for her--no artist of her calibre should be living under a bushel.
I will cheerfully send you a copy in e-mail form, for free, if you express a sincere interest in helping Desiree become famous.
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