There are around three things that happen in my books that actually occur in my real life.
1. People say words.
2. Sometimes they have sex.
3. Occasionally there are feelings.
But I've got to be honest. None of the specifics have ever happened to me. And you know why?
Because in my books I control all of the parameters; my heroines can do whatever they like. There's no worrying about making a massive blunder or accidentally making a mess. No one has to experience a fall out I didn't endorse beforehand, everyone must check with me at the gate before they board.
In real life, things are difficult. Stuff doesn't want to happen. I don't want stuff to happen. I don't actually really like the idea of having sex with Brandon Routh in a toilet cubicle - it happened in the film Karla and frankly it looked uncomfortable.
I mean, he's just so massive. And in reality, big cocks feel like being hollowed out with an ice-cream scoop.
I don't want to be hollowed out with an ice-cream scoop. I mean, I'd love to be able to say, here, that I've had fantastic adventures like Lisabet. I'd love to tell you I'm interesting, because maybe you'll now think I'm a fraud and not want to buy my books.
I mean, really. What do I know?
Though I do at least know this: the fantasy is always better than the reality. And that's what I write: fantasy. I try to write it gritty and real and so close you can almost taste it, but it's still always one step away.
And that's how I like it.