To Pseudonym or Not? Guest post by @MistyDietz #EntangledPublishing #BuytheBookTours #Giveaway
To Pseudonym or Not?
Guest post by Misty Dietz
Good day everyone! Big thank you to Jessica for hosting me on Mark of the Stars today to talk about pseudonyms! It was one of the first questions I was asked when people first found out I was working on a book: “Are you going to take a pen name?” At first I was really unsure because at least half of my writer friends do. I felt I should at least give it some thought because my books have sex, swearing, and some violence.
The reasons for using a pseudonym are diverse. Obviously anonymity is a key factor if writers don’t want the world at large to know it’s actually them. One of my buddies is an elementary school nurse and feels that there would be parents who would be uncomfortable, if not downright appalled, that she writes contemporary romance with sex in it.
Another reason is your actual name itself. Is it hard to pronounce? Too long to fit nicely on a book cover? Does it seem to be at odds (in your opinion) with the genre you’re writing? Or do you just want something different? It can also be a way for an author to brand herself in multiple genres (Jayne Ann Krenz is Jayne Castle is also Amanda Quick depending on her genre.).
I really have no compelling professional or personal reason to take one, so ultimately, I decided to keep my real name. Yeah, not everyone will pronounce it right (it sounds like deets), but I want to take complete ownership of my stories. I’m okay with my children reading my stories when they’re older and…I am who I am. If people judge me negatively for the stories I write, that is entirely their right. And totally not my problem.
Someday I may change my mind, though, so I’m keeping all options open. 
What’s your take on pseudonyms? For the fun of it, if you were a new writer, what pseudonym would you take? Do you get confused by authors who write under multiple names, or do you appreciate knowing what type of story it is by what name they’ve published it under?
At the end of my blog tour we’ll be drawing the name of two commenters from all of the blogs to gift not one, but two fantastic prize winners. See below for details, and thanks for being here!
XO, Misty 
Come Hell or High Desire by Misty Dietz
Torn between dangerous desires…
Framed for a series of brutal murders, rebel-turned-CEO Zack Goldman must go to ground. When he discovers that sexy boutique owner Sloane Swift has a shocking gift—terrifying visions that connect her to his mentor’s missing daughter—he can’t believe her refusal to help him. Nor can he believe he’s actually falling for the frustrating woman.
Their chemistry will either find its perfect equation…
Helping an accused killer ranks low on Sloane’s to-do list, no matter how hot the attraction burns between them. But putting to rest her overwhelming guilt over the missing girl’s fate proves more difficult than she ever imagined…that is, until her heart and conscience begin to align.
…or detonate everything in its path.
As the real killer locks in on Sloane, Zack will stop at nothing to keep her safe. And as they earn each other’s trust—with danger in hot pursuit—they may just lose their hearts in the process…
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The Excerpt
Her fingernails suddenly raked at her skull. “Lord! I almost forgot. We have to go back to Ann’s. She has a diary!”
He swerved into an empty parking lot and swiveled to face her, blood pounding in his ears. “What are you talking about?”
“Ann keeps a diary. We have to find it.”
“You’re just telling me this now? You should have goddamn said something right away!”
“Don’t you dare curse at me like that, you seismic jackass!”
He had to get out. He flung the truck door open and strode onto the cracked asphalt. Her door slammed shut moments later, and within seconds she was wagging a finger in his face. “And don’t you walk away from me, either!”
“Then don’t be such a damn shrew.”
Color flooded over her cheekbones seconds before she punched him in the gut. Hard. An ancient fire lit up his nerve circuits and adrenaline had him widening his stance. His heart gunned.
His groin tightened.
And she was still shrill.
“I’m not a shrew! How am I supposed to act in a situation like this? You think I’m enjoying this? I hate it! But unfortunately I have a conscience which would haunt me for the rest of my life if I don’t follow this through until we have some answers. You came to me and wanted to rule out the church first. Then with everything that happened, I forgot about the diary until right now. That clear enough for you, you—”
Clear enough, honey.
He vised her head between his palms and kissed her. He hadn’t meant to, but the moment her mouth opened to his, he was lost. Not breaking contact with her mouth, he wrapped one arm around her, his hand splaying across her ass, locking her hips against him. Her hands were in his hair, her hips grinding, driving him crazy. They feasted on each other’s mouth, tongues dueling, daring, seeking. He felt her fingers between their bodies, slipping underneath the waistband of his jeans, pulling at the hem of his shirt. Her fingernail scraped his abs and he groaned. She leaned away from his mouth, her eyes dead sexy. Liquid brown. He was gonna—
A car horn blew, jerking him back to life. Back to the parking lot. He looked over to see a man in a black minivan at a stoplight giving them the thumbs up. He honked twice more, waved, and drove on.
Sloane burst into a fit of laughter that quickly dissolved into tears.
And that clinched it. He’d woken up this morning in some creepy-assed Twilight Zone.
About Misty Dietz
Misty’s love affair with words started in middle school when she penned dark stories set in exotic locales she knew nothing about. In college, her boy-angst spilled over into disturbing reams of poetry. After grad school, real life hit, and the writing went into hibernation until she found her own happily-ever-after with an ultra linear man who is the long-suffering counter-balance to her zig-zagging tendencies. Now, she spends her days writing emotionally complex, adrenaline-fueled stories, teaching Zumba, and praying her children don’t come home with math homework.
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