Isabelle Drake's Blog, page 58

Best Friends Never, #1 in Cherry Grove series out now

Be careful who you keep secrets with, especially in picture-perfect Cherry Grove, a place where average isn’t good enough, and nothing is what it seems.
Lexi Welks wants two things—respect and a college acceptance letter that’ll get her out of too-good-to-be-true Cherry Grove. The problem is that the nasty, life-ruining secret she shares with Monica Sanders is about to go public. If their ugly truth comes out, her plans for college—not happening. And that’s only the beginning of her end.
Monica is the kind of student teachers adore—well-behaved, hard-working and always following the rules. She’s the kind of friend other girls follow—well-dressed, popular and always knowing the right thing to do. If only they knew the truth about her. The truth Lexi found out the hard way, after spending the past summer letting Monica talk her into doing things she knew could come back to ruin her.
Now it’s the first week of school and one of the seniors is missing. Lexi knows a thing or two about the circumstances of his disappearance, but she’s not talking. Neither is Monica. But wicked truths have a way of crawling to the surface and tearing through the most careful plans.~~~Buy it on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, or direct from publisher Finch Books.~~~Want a taste? Here's an excerpt:
Blood red.
And death black.
Whoever picked out Cherry Grove High’s school colors was an idiot.
Either that or a serial killer.
The hideous color combination blurred across the gym floor, spinning in the cheerleaders’ skirts, bouncing in the pom squad pom-poms and slicing through the air in the quivering band banners. Except for the bizarre Goth meets Glee effect, the scene was flawless. Even the shouts echoing off the walls were just right.
Outside, beyond the gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows and careful flowerbeds, past the student parking lot dotted with Nissans, Volvos and European SUVs, early autumn trees shaded the tidy streets with the first brush of rust, orange and red leaves. It was Cherry Grove after all—anything less than perfection would be inconceivable.
The bleachers were jammed with students, some actually excited about the annual back-to-school pep assembly, the rest just screaming like mad, glad for the chance to be crazy on the first Friday afternoon of the new school year.
From her spot at the boosters table, Lexi Welks could see it all. The teachers huddled in the corner by the wrestling mats drinking Diet Pepsis and eating popcorn, the basketball players lined up under the net, shoving each other, wanting to be the one standing closest to the podium, and the mini-mob of freshmen trying to squeeze themselves into the tiny niche that led to the empty space behind the bleachers. Apart from the chaos stood the football team, arms folded over their Cherry Grove jerseys and looking like they’d rather be anywhere but where they were—right in the center of the attention.
“Here’s your baseball fundraiser auction sign-up sheet.”
Monica Sanders, coming up out of nowhere like a giant weed that not even the deadliest dose of Roundup could get rid of. One of the wicked plants from Little Shop of Horrors.
Only this plant had a nonstop figure wrapped up in a come-screw-me black turtleneck. Half the guys in the school wanted a piece of her. The rest wanted her ACT scores.
Lexi?
Up until a week ago, she and Monica had been friends. And now Lexi was paying the price for what had seemed like fun at the time.
Monica looked over Lexi’s shoulder, waved at basketball center Eric Watson, then came back with a careful smile, showing off her bleached teeth as she slid into an empty chair. “Not that the sign-up is going to do you any good. You know, with next year.”
Lexi took the sheet, dropping it onto the table as though she wasn’t the least bit concerned. Which, of course, was a huge lie. Because getting the right names on that single sheet of paper would change her whole life.
“Can I have your attention? Students?” Dr. Guerra, the superintendent, tapped on the microphone, sending out a series of heart-thumping thuds.
It worked—even the cheerleaders shut up, dropping to the floor to sit cross-legged like a row of overgrown preschoolers. “We need a moment before we get started with the pep assembly. Could everyone please welcome Officer Davenport from the Cherry Grove Police Station?”
“Where else would he be from?” one of the newspaper nerds muttered. “7-Eleven?”
The cop slid behind the mic, adjusting his navy blue uniform tie while he waited for the losers in the back rows to catch on to the idea that he had something other than the D.A.R.E. essay winners to announce. Once the room fell silent, he started talking about Jon Eagle, the kid who’d gone missing a couple of days before. Each word out of his mouth made the knots in Lexi’s stomach pull tighter as images of that night skittered through her mind.
“We’ve been checking leads and retracing Jon’s steps. We’re in constant contact with his family—they’ll be informed as we uncover substantial information.” He flattened his square palm across his jacket lapel, pausing dramatically as he looked out at the faces. “We know how distressing this is for you all, for all of us. For those of you who’d like someone to talk with, your lead counselor, Mrs. Howell, has added appointments before and after school. She’s assured me and all your parents that she’ll do anything she can to help you through this difficult time.”
Monica took out her pretty pink leather-bound planner and wrote down the officer’s name. Then she waited, pen poised, for anything else noteworthy.
“Please keep in mind,” he continued, “that we have no evidence of foul play at this time. There is no reason to believe that anyone else is in danger.” He went on to add that the detective in charge thought that Jon had been in touch with kids who, for some reason, were choosing not to tell anyone. 
“If that’s the case, we urge you to come forward at this time.” Contact information flashed from the huge ceiling-mounted projector onto the wall behind the podium. Lexi barely held in her roll of nausea as Monica jotted down the counselor hours, the hotline phone number and email address with one hand, all the while texting with her other.
But that was Monica Sanders. Smart. Capable. Efficient. And a real self-serving jerk. Too bad it had taken Lexi three months to figure it out.
“Thank you for your attention.” Dr. Guerra was back at the mic, struggling to say something press and parent friendly. “If we all work together, we might… Maybe we’ll… Jon might…” Thank God she finally gave up, because while two band geeks in the front row were snapping pics, some of the yearbook girls over by the art teacher were starting to cry. A cloud of awkward silence filled the gym, everyone’s face tense. Everyone’s except Monica’s. She was dumping her stuff back into her bag and getting to her feet, all while looking as fresh and fantastic as ever.
“Taylor told me to ask you if you had questions about the sign-up,” she said as she pushed the chair back. This time she wasn’t even bothering to hold on to that flawless, fake smile.
“You mean like why are you even bothering with yours?” Lexi tapped her own sheet with her finger. “Because all the names that matter are going right here.”
Monica practically snorted as she spun on her heels, swinging away without a reply.
Lexi watched the girl’s model-perfect ass until she ducked through the red and black cluster of drumline kids clogging the double doors at the end of the gym.Once she was sure the girl was gone for good she picked up the sheet, staring at the empty rows and imagining the names she needed scrawled across those blank lines. Planning how she’d get them there. And fighting back the fear of what Monica would do when she did.

Torn fishnet stockings and sex in cages. Or: How I got started writing erotic zombie horror

Write about zombies? Not me. Write about zombies who feed off sex? Well, that’s more likely. Add in a horror element--now I’m all in.
January of 2011 I was about halfway through my MFA in Creative Writing. We were given a writing prompt that, we were told, was designed to push us “out of our comfort” zone. The assignment: read a tabloid newspaper, like The Weekly World News , long time supporter of Bat Boy, or the National Enquirer, currently keeping readers up to date on the happenings with Matilda, the Cat from Another Planet, then write a scene based on one of the features. Being the good student that I was, I dug right in to the assignment.
The two articles that inspired me most were Zombie Barbies! by Frank Lake of the Weekly World News and A Very Zombie Holiday also by Frank Lake. Since I was soon to be on my way to Boston, I was also inspired by a very real blizzard wrapping its way around the East coast.
Before I move on to the rest of my account of how I started to write erotic zombie horror, I should mention that prior to beginning my MFA program I had already publisher about ten novels, fifteen novellas, and twelve short stories. Give or take a few in each category. All of them were written to make readers happy, many were romances of all heat levels, and nearly all were “commercial.” And, to be honest, pretty much all of the stories were written with the end goal of selling them. Like, for money. I mention this last part about the money because in the literary community writers are often paid with contributor copies or not at all. So, I entered my MFA program with the mindset that the work I produced should be, could be, saleable. Enter this assignment.
Even before my fingers typed the first word, I was already planning to write not only one scene, but a whole story that my readers would be excited about reading. In the winter of 2011, I was writing all erotica and erotic romance. So, the story had to have sex. Problem: sex scenes with yucky rotting zombies would not be…pretty. Or alluring. Solution: attractive zombies. Logical solution: zombies that live off sex. Even better solution logical solution: zombies that live off sex with human captives. That’s right, as long as they have enough sex with their human captives, they stay attractive. Bonus to the improved solution: sex scenes will be necessary and part of the storyline.
The current East Coast blizzard intrigued me because it had shut down entire cities, halted travel. That sort of thing doesn’t, or rather didn’t, happen very often. What if zombies roamed an entire frozen city? A city held hostage to a fierce winter storm? One thing that came to my mind, zombies don’t feel the cold. That’s creepy. I took that idea and went with it. Soon, my tribe of sex zombies had extraordinary strength, from all that sex no doubt, and the ability to climb ice coated buildings. The last thing I needed was a zombie. An sexy, aggressive sex-hungry zombie. My inspiration? Zombie Barbie. Once my imagination was done with her, she was built like an Amazon goddess, wearing a mini-skirt, torn fishnets, and heavy black boots. Simply put. Mattie is a badass who takes what, and who she wants. Her victim? A tabloid newspaper writer named Hayden.
Servant of the Undeadbreaks some of the “rules.” For one thing, the point of view character is male. Hayden’s capture and subsequent servicing, read: giving her the sex she craves, of Mattie is the main storyline. The other thing, he is the captive, not her. So, to see what readers think of this role-reversal, I decided to post the novel on Wattpad. I post a new part every Friday. Each part is about 1000 words long and features a video.
The fishnet videos, like the story itself, are an “accidental” creation. I did not set out to use myself to promote Servant. But after looking for images that suited my story and uncompromising zombie Mattie, I came up empty. My solution to this dilemma: put on my own leather mini, torn fishnets, and boots, then go out into my backyard and make my own pics and videos. I imagine I looked a tad eccentric wandering around my backyard, climbing on my woodpile and such, dressed that way and with a hoodie, undone hair and no makeup, but hey–I’m a writer. The neighbors know I’m weird. 

You can check out Servant of the Undead on Wattpad, let me know what you think about that role reversal, then come back every Friday for the next part of the story. Want to be sure you don’t miss any? Add the Servant to your Wattpad Reading List.

Servant of the UndeadUndead seeking human captives. A bli...

Servant of the Undead
Undead seeking human captives. A blizzard and raw desires. Passion and fear.   ~~~Boston is hostage to a blizzard & rumors spread about zombies roaming the streets, looking for human flesh. Hayden Thomas, tabloid writer, is out to get some fresh news about the undead. At the Boston Public Library, he uncovers research about a tribe that survives by having constant sex with human instead of eating their flesh.
Mattie, one of the undead out tracking a rival tribe, finds Hayden and uses him for sex. Afterward, she discovers his research and acquires him as her sexual servant, planning to use him for information as well as sustenance.
CHAPTER ONE "Do It"
Hayden Thomas shifted on the wooden captain’s chair, trying without success to ease the stiffness in his spine. Whoever selected the chairs for the Boston Public Library obviously never sat in them. The damn things had no armrests and were crammed so close together Bates Hall looked like a cafeteria. 
Except for the green desk lamps and rows of bookcases lining the wood paneled walls of the vast, deserted room. Hayden leaned back, placing his palms on the small of his back as he stretched.
Fine, it did look like a library. And it was everything the city claimed it to be, historical, well-cared for, and a fucking architectural gem. He just didn’t want to be there, digging through old books sane people shouldn’t care about. As if on cue his phone flashed. He picked it up and read the message. That article will be done tonight. Right? You’ll have something fresh. Right?
As if he had a choice.
Hayden tapped in his reply, yes and yes, then shoved the phone in his pocket. He wasn’t going to look at it again until he had what he needed. Something fresh. What the hell did that mean anyway? A paycheck. Control over his future. Little things like that. So he’d come to the library, to look through actual books. He’d scanned through several about werewolves then set aside the ones on vampires when he found the ones he needed.
Coming to the library had been a good idea. Not only had he found fresher content than the guys only using the internet, he’d also made a video clip of the inside with his webcam. He might be able to use that on the paper’s website as part of the series. A scholarly approach to give the piece an air of authority. Bob would love the irony of that.
“Lights in this section getting turned off early. ‘Bout twenty minutes.”
The security guard had come up behind Hayden and was standing in the aisle between the rows of gleaming wood tables. He motioned toward the expansive windows that started at the top of the bookshelves and reached up about fifteen feet to the domed ceiling. “Snowmaggeddon, man. Everybody’s leaving. You should too.”
Outside, snow whipped against the glass, so fierce and bright that even though the sun had gone down an hour ago the white blast was still visible. The bloated flakes brushed against the glass, spun in circles, creating a delicate, menacing spiral. Shit. A storm. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with. He’d promised Rachelle, a girl he’d started seeing, that he’d be done with the article that night so they could “do something fun, something crazy” tomorrow. Hayden eyed the stack of books surrounding his laptop.
“Do you have a photocopy machine?” he asked, scanning the area behind the guy.
“Yeah.” The guard looked at the piles of books, his mouth twisting into a frown as his gaze skimmed over the titles. “Where’d you find those?”
“In the scary monster section, under Z for zombies.” 

Continue reading for free on Wattpad.

The Isabelle Manhattan

Dissolve the 2 teaspoons brown sugar in water. Set aside.

Put some ice in the glass (small cubes preferred)Add 2 or 3 shots of ryeAnd, 1 shot of the dissolved brown sugar Then, 1 shot sweet vermouthLastly, 5 shakes of orange bittersStir lightly (That way the taste of the drink gradually reveals itself)

Occasionally, I have one while writing.

Full body coverage, slick and dirty: Wet & Messy Fetish 101

WAM, wet and messy fetish, is exactly what it sounds like. A person becomes sexually aroused by seeing a slick mess-covered person or being messed with a streaming liquidy substance. Dirt, oil, paint, shaving foam, whipped cream, slime, ketchup…if its slick and has the potential to coat and make a mess, it’s good for WAM.
People with this interest refer to themselves as messey fun folk, sploshers, and wammers, and may prefer to have the mess applied to themself or prefer watching it be applied to others.  Those who prefer to get messy themselves enjoy the feeling of the substance on their skin, the overpowering scent of it as it coats them or the sensation it creates when interacting with others. Or, it may simply be the idea of being “a mess” that turns them on. For others, its not getting dirty themselves, its seeing the mess on others that does it.
In either case, the substance may be applied to bare skin or inside or over clothing. In the case of being applied under or over clothing, while white is a popular color, anything goes--bathing suits, formal wear, uniforms, wedding dresses, full PVC or leathers. The individual may have a specific clothing preference or maybe not.
What’s hot about girls getting hit in the face with pies or guys being covered with green slime? As this fetish is one of the less common, and seemingly less controversial than others such as bondage or pony play, there is not much research on why some individuals are turned on by WAM fun. 
One possibility is that individuals with low tactile sensitivity benefit from the extreme and unusual sensations. The theory is that an early experience became a formative one. For example, playing in the mud as a child enabled the person to feel more fully and more completely than was typical and so the mud becomes a cue for a positive physical sensation. This theory, the early imprinting of relating sexual satisfaction with a childhoodexperience is often linked to the WAM-related “wet-look” fetish in a way thatdoes not include low tactile sensitivity. So it makes sense that perhaps the WAM interest starts that simply. A guy wrestles with a girl in the mud, goofing around as a kid, and likes it in ways he doesn’t expect. Years later, he’s wanting that mud again.
Another possibility is that this fetish is linked to humiliation. In WAM, however, the humiliation is much more light-hearted than in traditional humiliation fetish acts, such as name-calling or being treated like an animal. In this way, it is = possible that there are links to from WAM to Dominance/submission interests.
Lastly, there is the obvious, that being bad, in this case by making a mess of oneself or others, is a source of rebellion and is therefore freeing and ultimately fun.
Fun appears to be one of the key components of this fetish. When compared to other fetishes this one may seem downright silly. Pies in the face, ice cream melting across thighs, hair coated with mud. The slapstick aspect of this interest is very serious. 
Wondering if you’ve even seen WAM in action? Remember thescene in Tommy when Ann-Margret gets sploshed by foam and baked beans then rolls in some mud? Or how about that time in The Swinger when she was coated with paint then rolled around on the floor? 
Prefer something less, artsy, more slapstick?  Try Taryn Maria Plays in the Mud or Messy Fun.

Chocolate Farm Cake

What could be better than a simple, quick chocolate cake? This recipe is perfect for any time you'd like something yummy and easy. 
Preparation:Preheat oven to 350'Grease and flour 8x8 pan

Dry ingredients:1 cup flour1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder3/4 teaspoon baking soda1/2 baking powder
Blended ingredients:6 tablespoons softened butter1 cup sugar2 eggs1 tablespoon vanilla3/4 cup milk 
Stir together dry ingredients. Beat butter until smooth, gradually add sugar until well combined. Add eggs one at a time, beat well after each. Add vanilla. Alternately add dry ingredients and milk, beating until just combined after each. Beat on medium to high for 20 seconds more. Pour into pan. Bake 30-35. Frost with your favorite frosting or dust with confectioners sugar. 

YA thriller series Cherry Grove, Book 1

Best Friends Never
Lexi Welks wants two things—respect and a college acceptance letter that’ll get her out of too-good-to-be-true Cherry Grove. The problem is that the nasty, life-ruining secret she shares with Monica Sanders is about to go public. If their ugly truth comes out, her plans for college? Not happening. And that’s only the beginning of her end.

Monica is the kind of student teachers adore—well behaved, hard-working and always follows the rules. She’s the kind of friend other girls follow—well-dressed, popular and always knows the right thing to do. If only they knew the truth about her. The truth Lexi found out the hard way, after spending the past summer letting Monica talk her into doing things she knew could come back to ruin her.
Preorders start this winter.

Fetish 101 Ponyplay: Tricked out in leather, adorned with plumes, trained with whips...what you might not know about ponyplay

Show pony, art by John WillieA recent reading of A. N. Roquelaure’s Beauty’s Kingdom made me curious. About what you ask. Spanking? Sex slaves? We are talking about Ann Rice, after all. But nope, I wasn’t wondering about those things. I was curious about ponies. To be more accurate, people pretending to be ponies: ponyboys and ponygirls.
If you read the second two of the Sleeping Beauty series, you know doubt remember Tristan’s fate of being forced to pull the Captain of the Guard’s cart in book 2, Beauty’s Punishment, then being sent to the stables as a punishment in book 3, Beauty’s Release. Ann Rice’s latest book, the fourth in the series, Beauty’s Kingdom, features extensive description of the stables and human ponies. It was that lengthy detail that got me wondering about real life human ponies and ponyplay.
Ponyplay is just what it sounds like, animal role-play when one or more person involved pretends to be a pony. Ponyplay may or may not involve BDSM and in some instances, it is non-sexual or involves little “normal” sexual contact. Typically, the sexual thrill comes from the fantasy created by the pony, the concept of actually being a pony under the control of a groom, trainer, or owner. The trainer, groom or owner is dominant, in control of their animal. “Normal” sex may occur if the ponies are engaged in ‘stud services,’ meaning one pony is bred to another. This studding requires permissions and arrangements of the ponies’ owners. 
One of the draws to ponyplay is that there are many opportunities for individuals to put their own creative twist on their preferred activity. Many ponyboys and ponygirls create a distinct ‘personality,’ or temperament, for their pony. They, as their pony self, are a particular breed and have detailed nice and naughty characteristics. For example, their pony self may be a hard-working even-tempered pony that thrives on praise or their pony self may be a naughty pony that often misbehaves and requires constant direction and punishments.

Cart ponies, art by John WillieMost often, all ponies wear tack and other adornments. Tack may include a bridle, with bit, saddle, designed especially for human or actual ponies, harness, plumes, and horsetails. There may also be a lot of leather or rubber suiting. Rains or riding straps are another possibility. And of course, pony shoes which are shoes designed to look and sound like horse hooves. The trainer and/or rider will also have equipment: whips and crops, for example.
Generally, there are three types of ponies.Riding ponies.Cart ponies. Show ponies.
Riding ponies are ridden by their riders who may also be their trainers and owners. Riding ponies can be two or four legged and there are saddles designed for both. Real, actual horse, saddles can also be used. Obviously, riding ponies must be strong and agile to bear the weight of riders.
Cart ponies pull carts, carriages, wagons, sulkies…you get the idea. These ponies pull something someone else rides in. The cart pony many or may not wear fancy gear but cart ponies do have tack that is designed to get the job done. Typically the vehicle pulled by the cart pony seats one or two people, but there are larger carts pulled by a team of ponies. Team ponies, most often two-legged, require specialized training and often have matching tack. Additionally, they often have matching physiques or are arranged by physique.
Show ponies are tricked out in fancy tack and ornate accessories. As the name indicates, these ponies are valued for their beauty and ability to perform. They learn human pony gaits and are taught intricate routines by their trainers. Most often these ponies who off their dressage skills, sometimes in organized events.
This video shows a lovely training session, a nice blonde show pony displaying gaits with and without boots.  Prefer something more art-y? Ponygirl Nemi.
Cart pony, art by John WilliePonyplay is not new. Historians have debated the notion that Aristotle was in the habit of pretending to be a pony for the enjoyment of his wife and/or other women. This explains why ponyplay is sometimes known as “The Aristotelian Perversion” and also reveals that this penchant has been around and thriving for a long, long time. Images of ponyplay in the US can be found in books, magazines and artwork. It’s the sort of thing that once you start looking for it, you’ll see it. One place to start looking is in decades old copies of the American fetish magazine, Bizarre, which featured ponygirl stories throughout the 50’s and 60’s. The artwork by John Willie is intriguing, to put it mildly. Were to look next? I'll leave that up to you.~~~~~~
Want some more right now? I suggest this ten minute video that offers a great overview as well as some ponies in action:  ponyplay tv5
Interested in why people are involved in ponyplay? Try: Pony and Master, interview and Addicted to PonyPlay.

I am who I am: fiction writer. Why I chose not to use a pen name for my young adult work

Before signing the contract for Cherry Grove, my young adult suspense series, the question of a pen name came up. Since I also write erotic romance, should I use a pen name for my young adult books? Would that be the better? The more I stewed on my eventual answer, the more complex the question became. Here’s how it went.

I started by…um…thinking about myself.

If I create a new name, I'll need to create a whole new online identity and wow… time? Creativity? Rather use those for writing more stories. Besides, the online identity that I do have is not all *that* steamy. I post mostly vintage pics, talk about movies I've seen, all "nicer side of naughty" stuff. No worries that YA readers or the YA community will be scandalized by what I post.

Next I thought about YA readers themselves. Will publishing a YA series under the same name as my erotic work be confusing or inappropriate?

Nah. Many YA readers have read 50 Shades, seen the movie and talked to their moms, friends and boyfriends about it. They aren't shocked by the sex and they're very thoughtful about the content and the relationship.  Also, there is a long tradition of edgy in young adult books. There are, and have been for decades, many books and movies for the YA audience that have "adult" content. My point, YA readers are already exposed to intense situations, violence, sex, drugs, abuse, in stories. Most importantly, YA readers are savvy, intelligent and sensitive to the complexity of what it is to be human.

Sexuality and the acceptance of non-traditional sexuality is the new wave of human rights. Young people are a big part of this movement. High schools have GLBT student organizations, students are "allowed" to be openly transgender in school, wearing clothes that aren't traditionally aligned with their physical sexuality (guys wearing dresses, girls wearing boys' style clothing). This is world we live in, one that is open discussing sex, sexual relationships, and non-traditional roles. Given this reality, most young people, especially those who are likely readers of my YA work, will not be bothered, confused or offended by anything I post or write. In fact, my sincere and open approach to sexual topics would be appreciated.

What about parents?

I asked around, talking to parents, booksellers and librarians. I found out parents are happy to support reading of all types and most don’t place limitations on what their teen reads. Parents are not actively trying to prevent their teenager from being exposed to “adult” books. Teens are “allowed” to read whatever draws their attention, this include adult books of all types. The benefit to a teen being exposed to adult material is that it starts or maintains a dialogue that both the teen and parent are comfortable with. Parents find this extremely beneficial. The parent and teen can discuss what to read and why. When the teen does read something, either a YA book or an adult book, the questions asked by the teen are not, “If I want to drink, have sex or quit school, what would you think of that?” Instead, the questions are “I was reading this book and the character did___. What do you think of that?” These conversations come from the content of books themselves, not from the author who has written them. If a parent is concerned about the content of a book, the concern is applied to a specific book, not to an author.

Me being me, I did some research. Here’s what I found. Teens typically select their own books. Based on numbers from a 2012 Bowker study, only 12 percent of 28 percent--roughly 3%--of YA books are purchased by adults for YA readers. And, as mentioned above, in instances where an adult does have input on selection, the focus is on the content of the book in question. If the author has written something the parent does not want to teen to read, that conversation is just as welcome and beneficial as the more common ones about the contents of books.

Lastly, I considered the publishing world in general and the YA market in particular.

The line between YA and adult readership is blurring. YA and new adult books sales are rising and not only because teens are reading more. More adults are reading YA books. Consider The Hunger Games, Divergent, Twilight and the Harry Potter series.

According to the Bowker study:

"More than half the consumers of books classified for young adults aren’t all that young. Fully 55% of buyers of works that publishers designate for kids aged 12 to 17 – nicknamed YA books -- are 18 or older, with the largest segment aged 30 to 44. Accounting for 28 percent of sales, these adults aren’t just purchasing for others -- when asked about the intended recipient, they report that 78 percent of the time they are purchasing books for their own reading. The insights are courtesy of Understanding the Children’s Book Consumer in the Digital Age, an ongoing biannual study from Bowker Market Research that explores the changing nature of publishing for kids."

Even more compelling, and, I imagine, of interest to everyone in the YA book market is this analysis from the same study:

The trend is good news for publishers as these adult consumers of YA books are among the most coveted demographic of book consumers overall. Additional insights from the Bowker study show these readers are:
Early adopters. More than 40 percent read e-books, equivalent to the highest adoption rates of adult genres of mystery and romanceCommitted: 71 percent say that if an e-book of their desired title was unavailable, they would buy the print book insteadLoyal: Enjoying the author's previous books has a moderate or major influence over the book choice for more than two-thirds of the respondentsSocially active: Although more than half of respondents reported having "no interest" in participating in a reading group, these readers are very active in social networks and often get recommendations from friends.Consider also, Megan Abbott’s Dare Me and The Fever. These books reflect the trend of blurring the line between YA and adult fiction in both content and marketing. Her books feature YA characters in typical teen settings but are marketed in a way that appeals to both adult and YA readers. This strategy is beneficial to the readers, who get the books the desire and publishers, who enjoy business success.

And so that’s how it went. In the end, I decided that potential readers won't think, "I don't want to buy/read that book because Isabelle Drake also writes Fifty Shades type stuff." In fact, I think it's the opposite. I think potential readers will think, "Cool, she wrote something for us."

What fiction should do, writer-y thoughts

Occasionally I get all writer-y and think about my creative process, goals for fiction and whatnot. Coming back to what I think fiction should accomplish and how it should be constructed helps me whenever I get stuck with a scene, plot point or manuscript revisions. I use my 4 basic assumptions to create questions. Asking myself the questions just about always solves my dilemma by helping me figure out what's missing.

My assumptions for fiction. A story ought to show, not tell.A writer ought to care about and tend to the reader and the reader’s experience with the story. The reader does not read to be impressed by the awesomeness of “the author,” the reader reads to enjoy the story.A story ought to have scope/size/texture. It ought not be a flat listing of events.A story ought to have to have conflict. Internal & external conflict for character. External for the story world (in other words, conflicts exist in the story world).

So hey writers, if you're ever in a slump, try making a list. Make a list of 3-5 "things" you think should always (or just about always) be true in fiction. Then, flip them into questions and use those questions to sort stuff, whatever is slowing your process down, out.