Who I am …

My name is James.

I’m a thirtysomething gay guy in London with a tedious day job that lets my mind wander.

I’ve been writing as long as I can remember, and it’s always been my escape and my passion. I remember telling my mother at six years old that I couldn’t come to dinner because I was busy writing.

(My mother was supportive in later years, but at that moment, fish fingers and carrots and peas with tomato sauce waited for no man.)

Nothing fancy; just pages and pages of scribbled notes on refill pads. Then upgraded to Word documents, then eventually, in my twenties, hard copies.

Could I get a literary agent? No. Could I get a publishing deal? No. Did that deter me? Yes. Did that stop me for good? No.

Do I hope one day for some paid professional at a publishing firm to do the bits I don’t want to, like proofreading, editing, design, and marketing? Yes.

Arden originally came to me as a pure romance novel where he had to choose between a gruff redhead, a nerdy brunette, and a snobbish blond. Somewhere, over the course of the year, I thought about the plot, a murder joined in, and then it became a murder mystery with a dash of yearning romance.

Will I write a pure romance in the future? Absolutely, can’t wait. Will I write my series away from Arden? Already on it; expect something different to come out in 2027.

In the meantime, Arden fills too much time for me already. I can’t wait for him to be joined by the other characters in my head.