Sexing Up the Classics
A couple of weeks back, I tried reinventing myself as an erotic author. I’ll be honest — it hasn’t worked. I thought I’d be a millionaire by now, but I’m sat here wearing a barrel with braces, and boiling up what’s left of the wallpaper for soup.
It’s time for phase two to kick in. There was load of waffle this week about the literary classics of Austen and Bronte undergoing a sexy makeover, having been condemed to trail as prissy old wallflowers in Fifty Shades of Grey‘s flaky, yellowing wake. Fine. I can do that too. I like money, or at least, I like the idea of it. God knows, nobody’s illicitly reading my stuff while sat in the back of a cab that speeds towards the nearest Ann Summers. That changes today.
So, here are the new, sexy incarnations of my two big brands. First, the Frantic Planet series. People often ask who the mysterious silhouetted figure on the cover is. Is it me? As you can see below, yes, it is.
Hello ladies. And then, there’s The Beach Diaries. As obsessed with lechery and sweaty, half-naked bodies as the Beach Diaries already are, I felt I could ramp up that aspect even further.
Here’s to my impending success. Cheers! *glugs a final flagon of wallpaper soup*