Oh bloody hell, time for another chapter in the latest load of drivel. At least the drivel pays the bills and lets me have a secretary instead of having to do my own typing.

How did I get into this silly charade in the first place?

I suppose, yes, it must have been when I got out my first book and had to use a pen name 'cos it was a bit steamy, and my mum would have killed me if she'd known it was me.  She was strict and no mistake!

My Auntie Gladys told me that if I wanted to publish my stories using my real name, I'd have to clean up my act, be a lady, write about ladies and proper gentlemen.  Leave behind the muscular studs with the flashing eyes who'd have a constant trail of scantily clad girls through his bedroom door.  She was right, Mum wouldn't half have created if I'd written the kind of books I really wanted to write, so I did as the old dear suggested.

My heroes became fine upstanding, restrained gentlemen, and my heroines were, without exception, modest, ladylike, soft-spoken, and above all, virginal.

But as if that wasn't bad enough, she convinced me that my books would have little or no credibility if I didn't stop having a great time with my many male admirers, and that I should strive to be like my heroines, as pure as the driven snow.  Like Caesar's wife I should be seen to be above reproach.

Well, it was hard at first, but as the money started to roll in, and I got older, I got used to the celibacy and having to mind my manners at all times.  As a bit of a gimmick, I started wearing everything pink, and eventually my fans grew to expect it, and so I could never wear any other colour, a bit of a bugger, but such is the price of fame!  Oh, and those ghastly dogs I had to cuddle whenever there was a photographer around!

Occasionally those constraints imposed upon me grew wearisome, so I carefully planned my revenge on all those people who forced me into an unnatural mould.

In between those anaemic, antiseptic, airy-fairy books I had published, I was quietly working on a series of books designed to shock the socks off my reading public.  I've entitled the series 'The Adventures of Stan the Stud,' subtitled, 'Get Your Knickers off and Line up at the Bedroom Door'.  I left instructions for them to be published soon after my death, so if you are reading this, it means that I have passed away, and that the new 'Me' will be on the bookshelves shortly.  Brace yourselves!