We as authors have heard this many times before. Do we write for ourselves or do we pen books according to what sells? First, before you determine what area you fall into, what do they mean?
When writing for yourself, you write what you and your muses and/or characters enjoy. In my opinion, it means the Amazon best sellers charts don’t influence anything you write. The hot tropes don’t faze you no matter how popular they are. You, as the author, do what you can to promote and make it successful.
Writing to market is following trends. You look at books in the top twenty and craft a book on that same genre or subgenre hoping it’ll be a bestseller too. When readers want another vampire who doesn’t sparkle, you write that book! And hopefully, your wonderful bloodsucker is the new anti-Twilight.
In both cases, what is the common thread? Hope. Luck. Whatever you want to call it. All authors whether they write for market or for themselves seek to have a popular release. It might not be 50 Shades popular, but being seen on bestsellers lists is a big boost for one’s already fragile ego.
Looking at myself, I can say I’m more of a hybrid. I do write for myself and my characters first, but I also pay attention to the market. That doesn’t mean I jump on the next bandwagon, unless it fits what I like to write.
In m/m, I’ve seen a lot of readers ask for more shifters. Though I’ve read a few and seen many authors be successful with that subgenre, shifters aren’t high on my try list. I have done one for an anthology, but I have no interest in doing them on the regular.
Another is MPreg. I haven’t read many, but I could definitely see this as something I’d try. Yet and still, it isn’t high on my writing list either.
More paranormal, maybe some sci-fi, speculative fiction. More crime suspense and mystery, with gay male characters. Yes, my Michael muse has been begging for it and though it means a lot more tireless research I’m game for it.
To close, I don’t feel there’s anything wrong with writing to marker or for yourself. As an author, you should do what works best for you. The most important thing is to keep writing and learning your craft and hopefully, we will all gain some readers along the way.
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On the Run is the first book in the PROTEKT series!
Aiden Moriarty is a Florida ‘herbalist’ who developed a performance enhancing drug many athletes have used. One of them is baseball star Ivan Salerno, who was caught using the drugs and is now on the brink of getting suspended. Because of Ivan’s connections with a rogue mob boss, Aiden is taken into a witness protection program, working along with baseball higher ups until he testifies.
The mob boss, Augustine Ora, has hired former British military officer and his best hitman, Devlin ‘Brit’ Crawford, to do the job. Ora has instructed Devlin to go to Miami, kidnap Aiden and take him to the local airport to be transported to Havana ,Cuba, to be executed by Ora’s top officers.
However, when Devlin receives the email, the pictures of the blue-eyed felon catch his eye and he is moved to go in a different direction. Instead of delivering Aiden to the airport, he has thoughts of taking him away and saving him from Ora’s wrath.
This move puts him, Aiden, as well as his assistant Miranda Ashley in huge danger. Will Devlin keep Aiden safe despite the odds or will he fail, causing Ora and his men come after him?
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Devlin shoved the man hard until he fell backward on the ground.
He held on to Miranda, trying to keep her calm.
“Now, now, girl, let’s go. We have way too many hours to go before we reach our destination.”
“I know, but… D…” She reached for her weapon.
“Brit, remember?” Devlin kissed her head.
“Next time have some manners about yourself, arsehole!” He straightened his jacket and pulled Miranda away from the guy still screaming on the ground.
“Hey. Hey, you come back here!”
Devlin didn’t stop even when he heard the ‘n’ word spill from the guy’s mouth. The last thing they needed was to get into a confrontation right now.
Just as they got back to the truck, Miranda wrestled herself away from him.
“Devlin, we need to go back there and fight.”
“No, Miranda. We have a certain time to be in New York to get the vehicle, right? We’re actually ahead of schedule… We—” Devlin was interrupted by more loud voices shouting at them from the station.
“Fuck! It looks like Jimbo brought his crew. We need to go.”
Devlin put his hand on the handle, keeping one eye on the oncoming mob of about four men.
“Not before I do this.” Miranda reached for her gun on the inside of her thigh and fired one shot into the sky. “Back off, you fools, or I promise I’ll use it on one of you!”
The minute the shot sounded, the men stopped in their tracks and held up their hands.
Devlin grinned and opened the door.
“Get inside, Miranda, and keep your gun ready to shoot back if you have to!” He ran around to the driver’s side and heard two or three more gunshots, as well as footsteps coming from another direction. “Let’s get out of here before they call the local authorities.”
“What the hell? Those idiots looked like they wanted to start a fight,” Aiden yelled.
Devlin smirked and stomped on the gas pedal, turning the car around to get back on the road. “Yeah, well, they weren’t going to do anything more after Miranda fired a couple of shots to keep them back. We need to hurry out of this county.”
“Hicksville? Yeah, I agree.”
Miranda harrumphed and turned face forward in her seat, still holding her gun. “I swear, you Americans. I detest you at times, you know? Your men believe they’re God’s gift to women. Did that arse really think I’d be interested in giving him any of my info?”
“Hey, don’t go lumping me into the same category with that redneck ignoramus!” Aiden pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Perhaps, Miranda. And cheer up, Aiden. No one’s saying you and that mongrel are in the same category,” Devlin added with a smile.
“Good ‘cause… Uh-oh!”
Devlin glanced in the side mirror, seeing the blue lights of a squad car close on their heels. “Bloody hell. They would be on us when I have no clue how to get out of West Virginia and back to the main road.”
“Just lose them and we’ll find our way somehow. As long as we’re back on the road before dark, that’s all that counts,” Miranda replied.
“Right.” Devlin jammed his foot on the accelerator pedal, jerking everyone in the truck forward.
“Shit. Sorry, mates!”
When the vehicle behind them got closer, Devlin shifted the car into a higher gear until the truck started going over one hundred miles per hour.
“Oh God, we’re going too fast, and they’re right on our trail, Brit!”
“No worries, I’ll have to use another method to get them off us.” Miranda flashed a wicked smile.
“Yeah, I guess you will.” Devlin grimaced and eased off the gas a bit. His heart raced almost at the same rate as the truck. “Just don’t go shooting the cops now, all right? We don’t need any more undue trouble.”
“Yeah, don’t do that. And be careful, honey. Let me help you.” Aiden held onto Miranda after she removed her seat belt.
“Yeah right, guys. How else will I get these wankers off our backs?” Miranda leaned out of the car and fired a couple of shots.
Two loud bangs and screeching tires sounded.
Devlin checked the rear-view mirror and saw the cop car skid to a stop. “Miranda, did you? Oh God, please don’t…”
“Oh fuck!” Aiden yelled.
Miranda settled back in her seat. “I don’t think they’re dead, just not able to drive.” She chuckled. “Besides, I had to, Brit. How else would I stop them from catching us? Now, we should be fairly close. They might’ve alerted border patrol before I got them…or…”
“Yeah, but maybe we can beat it. And if I know small-town cops, they won’t go past the state line,” Aiden countered.
Devlin tried his best to keep focused on his driving and not on Miranda’s act of possibly wounding two West Virginia officers. “Yeah? Well, I suppose we’ll have to do just that. Keep your gun ready, love.”
“Yes, sir,” Miranda answered sweetly while he pulled out a map.
“Hold on tight, kids.” Devlin stomped the gas again, hoping they could make it across quickly.