I had a lot of fun writing Lucy in the Sky - my one and only sci fi romance - erotic romance. It's based on a thought I used to have - what the hell would I do if I found a spaceship in my garden and it's a humorous story about what followed when that happened to Lucy.
The book came out a few months ago and - to be honest - has sold very poorly compared to my other books. There seems to be some nervousness among authors about revealing sales figures but I don't mind being open about it. In 3 months Lucy sold 258 copies. In one more recent month a contemporary sold 720. It makes me think - why bother with sci fi if readers don't want it.
Maybe it's not that. Maybe the blurb sucks. If anyone has any thoughts, I'd love to hear them but I must admit, as it stands at the moment, I don't see any point writing another story set in space.
For a comment selected at random - I offer a free e-copy of Lucy in the Sky. Please let me know what you think.
Lucy in the Sky - the blurb
When you wake up to find a spaceship in your backyard, what do you do? Choose from three:
Phone the police.
Scream.
Go yell at the alien for wrecking your garden.
Lucy storms out of her house to confront the inept pilot and the last option turns out to be both the right and wrong choice when she finds the gorgeous hunk’s name is Three. She’s torn between fury that he’s crushed her roses and decapitated her statue of Eros, and a longing that he enliven her boring life and whisk her to the stars. Three doesn’t give her a choice when he throws her over his broad shoulders and takes her into space. Lucy soon finds herself exploring alien territory in ways she never imagined.
Three’s efforts to hide and protect her on the mother ship are stymied by his inability to keep his hands—and other body parts—off the luscious Lucy. But the two of them are being observed, Three's friend Hyll has been in unrequited lust with Three for years and he wants what Lucy's getting. Poor Lucy looks as if her immediate fate might be a solo trip into space without a spacesuit.
