A second chance at a perfect love - #JaneAusten #LesbianFiction #Historical @JeanetteAWatts

Blurb

What would you do for a second chance at a perfect love?

Anne's privileged family forced her to break off her romance with Freddie Wentworth, an Air Force pilot; they didn't approve. Almost eight years later, Freddie is back in her life. Can they rekindle an old flame? Or is there too much hurt and misunderstanding in the way?

Excerpt

A Moment of Clarity

She looked in the mirror at the result of eight years of self-neglect and self-hatred, and she didn't like what she saw. She wished Freddie could have looked at her and seen that she had improved over the years. It didn't even need to be about her physical appearance. If she would have had three Master's Degrees and a PhD to her name, or a Pulitzer Prize, or an Oscar for Best Screenplay, or a byline in The New Yorker, that would have been something. But she had nothing to show for all the intervening years.

She wondered if Freddie had said the words out of spite, calculating that Henry and Louis would repeat them to her, or they were merely said honestly, not thinking that they might get repeated back to her. She could only assume that Freddie expected the hurtful words to reach her ears. Freddie had not forgiven her.

Well, could she blame her? Her feebleness of character, her inability to stand by her loved one in the face of adversity, wasn't something Freddie would respect. Being in a relationship with a soldier in military service took dedication and courage, not weakness and timidity. Anne couldn’t blame her for being hurt, even disgusted. She was not worthy of the love Freddie had offered her.

The eyes that looked back at her in the mirror confirmed what she already knew. She was going to have to change. It was too late with Freddie, but she needed to be a person she could respect. She wanted her self-respect back.

About the Author

Jeanette Watts was happily writing historical fiction when she got the idea for her first Jane Austen-inspired novel, Jane Austen Lied to Me. Going to a JASNA event to work on selling that book, she attended a lecture that asked, "Why does everyone rewrite Pride and Prejudice so much more than her other novels? Why doesn't anyone rewrite Persuasion?"

So she had to...

Buy Link

https://www.amazon.com/Womans-Persuasion-Jeanette-Watts-ebook/dp/B07ZR8165R/

Contact Links

Website: http://www.jeanettewatts.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AWomansPersuasion

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JeanetteAWatts

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6967936.Jeanette_Watts

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jeanetteamlwatts/

Jeanette Watts will be awarding a Cameo Necklace to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

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Let’s Get Real - #censorship #hormones #teensex

 Image by lisajules from Pixabay

A while ago, I received the welcome news that a short story of mine had been provisionally accepted into an anthology. The editor wrote:

“I love your story, but it will need a little bit of amending: we cannot have any mention of anyone under the age of eighteen having sexual thoughts or masturbating. (I know this is absolutely silly but we are not in a position to risk it.)”

Let me make it clear that this story (which would probably be categorized as literary erotica) does not feature underage sex. The main character has an unusual and rather dangerous fetish, which first appeared after an experience in his mid-teens. The story includes a flashback in which the protagonist describes those early events and how they shaped his current, adult sexuality. Like most teens, his reaction to arousal was to masturbate.

I didn’t fight with this editor, first of all because I really wanted to be part of the anthology and secondly because she recognized the ridiculous nature of the prohibition. However, this state of affairs still makes me fume. I mean, let’s get real. Nobody masturbates more often than teenage boys! And sexual thoughts? As I recall my high school years, it was pretty difficult to focus on anything else!

It’s hard for me to understand the logic behind this rule. We’re not talking about pedophilia here. We’re discussing private sexual stimulation. Who is being hurt? Why should this be a forbidden topic?

The first time I remember masturbating, I was four. I didn’t have any idea what I was doing, but I knew it felt good. I had erotic fantasies in grade school (about being kidnapped at the beach by a classmate who wanted to pull off my bathing suit). It’s an accepted scientific fact that children have sexual urges, and that in the years right after puberty, hormones run rampant. What purpose does it serve to pretend otherwise?

Does anyone still cling to the myth of childhood purity and innocence?

In fact, fetishes often have their roots in childhood experiences. Changing my story probably won’t do great violence to its main points, but it does reduce the authenticity of the tale.

People write, and read, erotica for many reasons. As for me, I’m simply fascinated by sex. My personal motivation in writing is to explore the way sexuality complicates, illumines and transforms human existence. I want to realistically portray the experience of desire and to show its varied impacts on the lives of my characters. If I can arouse my readers in the process, I’m pleased, but that’s a side effect rather than my primary goal.

It become quite difficult to achieve this goal when I’m forced to deny power and importance of teenage sex. Confusing, scary, wondrous, indescribably intense—our earliest encounters with sex strongly influence our adult fantasies and needs.

Anyone who says otherwise is either a liar, or out of touch with reality.

Review Tuesday: Walk on the Wild Side by @Archer_Larry #swinging #lesbian #ReviewTuesday

Walk on the Wild Side by Larry Archer

Self-published on Amazon KDP

Co-workers Sandy and Kim are desperate. They have done everything they can think of to get their husbands to pay them some sexual attention. They’ve lost weight, purchased new, provocative wardrobes, tried to arrange intimate times together, to no avail. Sandy’s husband is a workaholic, while Kim’s spouse seems to view her as nothing more than his personal maid.

Frustrated and annoyed, the best friends decide to attend an introductory, educational session on the swinging lifestyle, organized by the notorious strip club The Fox’s Den. Under the expert direction of club co-owner Foxy, the women-only workshop soon turns into a lesbian orgy. Kim and Sandy, horny from neglect and ripe for new experiences, discover an unexpected affinity for their own sex. But pussy-eating and strap-on dildos are only the beginning of their adventures.

Soon they’re happily competing for the sexual attention of club owner Larry as well as the shy but hunky security guard Steve. Foxy continues to guide them in their increasingly outrageous explorations of the dark side, though to be honest, they need very little encouragement!

Walk on the Wild Side is the most recent book in Mr. Archer’s series about swingers Foxy and Larry and their no-holds, no-holes, barred strip club. Anyone who follows my blog will know that I’m quite a fan of Larry’s smutty tales, to the point that I’ve set five of my own books in the same fictional world. I thought that Walk on the Wild Side might well be the best installment yet. The first half, in particular, in addition to being sexy as hell, is also really well structured. Sandy and Kim are distinctive, sympathetic characters. Actually, I feel that the book’s subtitle, which describes them as “bored, cheating housewives” is quite unfair. (For one thing, they’re not housewives, but career women!) They’re enthusiastic about their journey over to the dark side, but the two women approach the prospect somewhat differently. Kim actually starts to fall in love with Steve – though of course that doesn’t stop her from doing the nasty with practically every other woman and man in the book.

This book gives a more central role to Foxy than many of the previous titles I’ve read. She’s the ringmaster (or perhaps ring-mistress) for everyone’s escapades. Although she’s still an insatiable slut (as are most of the other characters), she comes across as more intelligent, intuitive and responsible than in some of Larry’s other books. At least, that was my impression.

The plot spins out of control a bit in the second half. In particular, there are some continuity problems, where characters mention activities that I, at least, missed. For instance both Kim and Sandy mention that Larry (the character) had popped their anal cherries. I certainly didn’t remember that happening.

And I do wish Larry (the author) would learn how to use question marks correctly!

Overall, though, I really enjoyed Walk on the Wild Side. If you like outrageous, juicy, guilt-less sex with a wide range of partners, you will, too.

Escape into Kinky Fantasy.... @kay_jaybee #BDSM #erotica #femdom

 

Need some time out from reality?

If ever there was a time to indulge in some kink-laden fantasy, then this is it.

What better way to escape from the world for a while, than by enjoying a daily, bite-sized, morsel of erotica?

Each book in Kay Jaybee’s A Kink a Day series provides eight hot reads. One for each night of the week and a spare in case you fancy a weekend lie-in.

Blurb

From a restraint fantasy in a dusty South African quarry, to the soap-frothed kinky reminiscences of a soldier; the sexy end-of-the-line activities of a bus driver, to the hidden world where willing men do “Just As She Says”, A Kink a Day Book Four, provides a bite-sized moment of lust-fuelled distraction for each day of the week- with an additional erotic fantasy to enhance your Saturday morning lie-in.

Available from:

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2o6ED5R

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2nctzUT

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1133876869?ean=2940163348657

iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/a-kink-a-day-book-four/id1481859237

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-kink-a-day-book-four

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/960583?ref=cw1985

 

Here’s an excerpt from the beginning of Brick Dust:

‘Tell me. What else did he want to do to you?’

‘He...’ A layer of dry dust landed on Liza’s lips, making it difficult to reply.

‘Come on girl. We’ve got you this far, and hell; you don’t half look good.’

Liza could sense Mick’s urgency. Before he’d tied her up his tone had been methodical and controlled. Now, as the quarry foreman towered over Liza, observing her as she discovered what it really meant to be spread-eagled, naked, exposed, and vulnerable, his Praetorian accent crackled with barely suppressed lust.

‘He...’ She licked her lips, tasting stone grit on her tongue, ‘...he wanted to force me into begging to be fucked.’

With her arms at right angles to her body, and her wrists and ankles roped to parallel winch shafts, Liza had the strangest idea that she must look like an open pair of scissors.

After accepting the temporary job as administrator at the South African sandstone brick quarry, Liza’s main worry had centred around coping with the extreme heat after years of living on the cool English coast.

Once she’d arrived however, Liza had moved on from considering how she would keep cool to how she’d manage to keep her hands off her boss. Within half an hour of meeting Mick, Liza had been fantasising about what it would be like to sit on his lap; slowly rising her arse up and down, as her body engulfed his thick, solid cock...

That afternoon, sat at office desks, Liza had been struggling to coat the back of her neck with sun cream, and Mick had offered to help.

If Mick had stopped applying the lotion once he’d covered her neck, then perhaps nothing would have happened. But Liza hadn’t wanted him to stop. She’d daydreamed so often about the site foreman giving her a more thorough lotioning than was strictly necessary, she hadn’t complained when Mick lifted her vest top over her head and began to anoint the rest of her back.

It was only when Mick moved to her front, that the reality of discovery had invaded Liza’s brain. The idea that someone could walk into their office had dragged her fantasy fuelled imaginings from the tug Mick was creating at her crotch, and caused her to defensively cover her white bra with her hands.

‘What is it with you?’ Mick sat back, more amused than annoyed. ‘One minute you’re asking me to run my hands all over that hot body of yours, and the next you’ve gone cold. Who you hiding from?’

‘What makes you think I’m hiding? I just don’t want anyone to walk in and see me with your paws all over my chest.’

‘Come off it. You’re hiding. Why else would you be working in the middle of nowhere for six months when you could be running some nice clean company back home.’ Mick winked at Liza, the fact she hadn’t complained about his hands being on her tits silently hung in the air between them.

‘Anyway, you’re not the first. Nearly everyone who takes your job is avoiding something somewhere else. What’s your excuse for turning up here? Not just to give me wank dreams surely?'

 

Perversely pleased that she’d been having as much an effect on Mick as he had on her, Liza gave him a half smile. ‘You wank about me?’

‘Believe it. You’ve done some unbelievable things in my head...’

(A Kink a Day Book One, Book Two and Book Three are already available as eBooks from Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, and all good retailers.)

About the Author

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO

Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee has over 180 erotica publications including, A Kink a Day- Books One-Four (KJBooks, 2018, 2019), The Voyeur (Sinful Press, 2018), The New Room, (KJBooks, 2018), Knowing Her Place-Book 3: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (KJBooks, 2018), The Retreat- Book2: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2018), Making Him Wait (Sinful Press, 2018), The Fifth Floor- Book1;The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (KJBooks, 2017), Wednesday on Thursday, (KDP, 2017), The Collector (KDP, 2016), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress), 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

You can follow Kay on:

Amazon- https://www.amazon.co.uk/Kay-Jaybee/e/B004O0S9GO/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1534155776&sr=1-1

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook -http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

BookBub- https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kay-jaybee

Kay also writes contemporary romance and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

A bit of holiday romance - #Homelessness #Self-publishing #ChristmasRomance

 

For my post today, I have a bit from my story Slush: A Holiday Romance. This title represented my very first foray into self-publishing, nearly five years ago.

A lot of books under the bridge since then! I’m still fond of this gentle tale, though, about a rich guy who’s rescued by a homeless young woman.

You can get a copy (only 99 cents!) at Smashwords, Amazon, BN or Kobo.

Blurb

Hot shot Boston lawyer Ian Pierce has everything but peace of mind. Christmas Eve finds him alone, wading through the slush to his BMW so he can drive back to his lonely luxury apartment. Then everything goes black. He awakens with an aching skull to find himself in a freezing, boarded-up garage occupied by a street kid. At first he blames the dodgy-looking youth for his troubles, but before long he realizes the raggedy girl who rescued him from the gutter may well be a Christmas angel in disguise.

Excerpt

“Hey, mister – you okay?”

The youthful voice filtered down the deep, dark hole to Ian’s flickering awareness.

“Urgh.” That was his own voice, a groan that kicked up pounding echoes in his head. Irritated by his own incapacity, pushing the pain aside, he tried again.

“I – uh – I don’t know...” He forced his heavy eyelids open, blinking to dispel the maddening blurriness, and tried to focus on the pale face hovering over him. “What – what happened?”

“I think you were mugged. I found you unconscious in the alley, lying in the gutter next to some fancy car.” The teenager had a thin face with a toothy grin. A knitted Bruins cap pulled low over his ears hid the kid’s hair. His breath condensed into white clouds when he spoke.

A shiver wracked Ian’s body. Even that slight movement exacerbated the throbbing at the back of his skull. Damn, it hurt! And it was freezing in here!

“Where am I?” Ian tried to sit up, impatient as always with any kind of weakness. “Ow – shit!”

He sank back onto something yielding, breathing hard. A damp smell of mold assailed him, mixed with hints of motor oil and wood smoke.

“Better not move,” the kid counseled. “You might have a concussion.”

Ignoring this advice, Ian managed to work himself into a half-sit. The softness beneath him was an old mattress, covered with a stained woolen blanket. He leaned against a plywood wall. Cold seeped through the thin barrier from the winter night outside, all the way through his coat and his shirt. His back muscles cramped and he shivered again. He glanced around the dim, crowded space, noting that the other walls and the floor were bare concrete.

“Here – try this.” The younger man grabbed a thick wad of newspapers from a pile in the corner

 

“Tilt forward – yeah – that’s right.” He slipped the papers into the space between Ian’s back and the wall. They worked surprisingly well as insulation. The kid smiled, showing those even white teeth once again. “Better now?”

Ian nodded, then regretted it as the pain in his head surged. “How did I get here?”

The teen’s laugh was high and girlish as he gestured toward a rusty supermarket cart parked near the door in the plywood partition.

“You’re joking!”

“Nope. A sled might have been better on a night like this, though.”

“But how... why...?”

The kid gazed at him, hands on his hips. “I couldn’t leave you there in the slush, could I? You would’ve froze to death, no question.”

Ian peered more closely at his savior. The teen – well, he might have been twenty, twenty one at most – looked plump in his miscellany of sweaters and sweatshirts. Underneath the bulky layers, though, he was slightly built. His hands, wrapped in orange mittens, were small. Bright red long johns showed through the holes in his ragged jeans. Despite the inclement weather, he wore no boots, only dirty sneakers, which looked soaked through. That observation made Ian realize how wet and cold he was in his own clothing.

He shivered again. “Don’t you have any heat in here?”

The kid shrugged. “I could light a fire, I guess. I don’t like to do that too often – makes it more likely someone will figure out I’m in here. But I suppose nobody’s going to be prowling around on Christmas Eve, ‘specially when it’s so miserable out.”

He dragged a battered oil drum with a deeply dented lid into the center of the room and started piling on bits and pieces of wood from a box near the newspapers. Then he crumpled some of that paper onto the top and struck a match.

The merry flames made Ian feel marginally better. The ache in his occipital region faded a bit and the numbness shrouding his brain cleared. He began to remember, brief impressions at first, then whole scenes.

Jack Steel trains for the impossible - #Thriller #BlackOps #Giveaway @geoffreysaign

Steel Force : Jack Steel Book 1

Serve justice. Discover a secret. Find his daughter. Repay betrayal. Jack Steel trains for the impossible, and it looks like it found him.

On a black op to neutralize terrorists, elite specialist Steel puts honor and integrity ahead of orders when he spares a monk. He just never expected his decision to put crosshairs on his back.

Hunted by a twisted killer, a vengeful billionaire, and the highest levels of government, Steel races to discover who’s behind a conspiracy that will decide the fate of two countries—and why one monk is the key to it all.

Aching from a missing daughter, Steel finds it easy to fall for Christie, a beautiful counter-terrorism analyst who offers to help. But he isn’t sure he can trust anyone.

To have a chance at love and a new life, and to serve justice, Steel just needs to stay one step ahead of a bullet…

Steel Assassin: Jack Steel Book 2

Revenge. Love. Family.

To protect their families, Jack Steel and Christie Thorton must become assassins.

Deadly Blackhood Ops specialist Jack Steel has moved on from his bloody past, but his past won’t let him go. He has it all; his partner Christie, his daughter Rachel, a protection agency he’s proud of, and his head on straight.

But it’s all torn apart when a madman blackmails him and Christy. Their skills are pushed to the limit as they are forced to become assassins to save those they love. The Mexican cartel, terrorists, and people from Steel’s past force them into a non-stop fight that they can’t walk away from.

To protect his country, and everyone important to him, Steel will be forced to trust the very people he swore to kill.

And he might have to walk away from those he loves…

Excerpt (from Steel Force)

The last time Steel remembered kneeling he was ten years old in church with his mother. This time his feet were pressed against the north wall of the barn, with his hands zip-tied behind his back. They had Tasered him, but now they held guns.

He looked up at fat-faced Yellow and mustached Blue. He was close to the sensory deprivation tank and the shower room door. The cement floor was uncomfortable beneath his knees. Frustration welled up inside him that with all his security and a gun in his hand, he had allowed them to capture him. He hadn’t been focused. Distracted by Christie’s presence.

He felt for the OTF knife in the belt-sheath—it wasn’t there.

Blue smiled. “In case you’re wondering, we found your knife. It’s by the computer.”

Yellow put away his gun, took a quick step, and kicked Steel in the stomach.

Gasping, Steel fell to the floor on his side. He had expected the kick and was ready for it.

“We’ve been told to keep this up until you talk,” said Yellow.

“Even a couple of days if we have to. And we don’t mind. Do we?”

In answer, Blue put his gun away. He kicked Steel in the right thigh. “Yeah, we’ve got plenty of time.”

Steel groaned. Spinner barked.

About the Author

Award-winning author Geoffrey Saign has spent many years studying kung fu and sailed all over the South Pacific and Caribbean. He uses that experience and sense of adventure to write the Jack Steel and Alex Sight thriller action series.

Geoff loves to sail big boats, hike, and cook—and he infuses all his writing with his passion for nature. As a swimmer he considers himself fortunate to live in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, Minnesota. See what he’s up to at http://geoffreysaign.net.

Website: http://geoffreysaign.net

Twitter: https://twitter.com/geoffreysaign

FB: https://www.facebook.com/JackSteelBooks

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46864257-steel-force

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/755980.Geoffrey_Saign

Sign up for the newsletter to receive a free copy of STEEL TRUST: https://geoffreysaign.net/newsletter-free-steel-trust/

STEEL FORCE Buy Link; https://www.amazon.com/Steel-Force-Action-Mystery-Thriller-ebook/dp/B07V52VYSY/ref=sr_1_1   

---  On sale during the week of the tour for $0.99

STEEL ASSASSIN Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Steel-Assassin-Action-Mystery-Thriller-ebook/dp/B07YZV5BWK/ref=sr_1_1  

--- On sale during the week of the tour for $2.99

Geoffrey Saign will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Joy is a signal you can trust - #epiphany #fun #intuition #joy

 Image by Artturi Mäntysaari from Pixabay

A few months ago, I had an “aha!” moment. I’d been feeling terribly stressed due to increased demands at my job and my author commitments, plus some impending travel that was going to make it even the more difficult to fulfill my obligations. I was obsessing about everything, when it hit me: even though I have way too much to do, I enjoy almost all of the tasks on my long list —writing, teaching, research, making covers, reading, writing reviews, creating blog posts, entertaining friends, sending birthday cards, cooking, even exercising. When I asked myself what I’d give up, if I had to make a choice, I really didn’t have a good answer.

That realization flipped my thinking and drained some of the stress. First, I felt a surge of gratitude that my life is so full of meaningful activity and so rich in joy. Second, I understood that joy is a reliable signal as to whether you’re on the right path.

If it’s not fun, you’re doing it wrong.

Am I talking about sex? Yes. Writing? Yes. Keeping fit? That too.

The Calvinistic/Puritan tradition views life as bitter and hard, an exercise in self-denial, a continuous series of trials one must endure in order to reach the promise of Paradise in the hereafter. I just don’t buy that. It doesn’t make sense, and it doesn’t match my personal experience.

For me, life is something to celebrate, a continuous unfolding, a twisting and often surprising path. And when I’m wondering which branch to follow, I’ve learned to turn within first, to ask myself how the path feels. Does it feel right? Does it generate joy?

I remember when I got my first job in my second career. (I’ve had several since.) I had no prior professional experience in this field, just a couple of university courses. I got hired on the strength of my academic credentials. When I started working, though, something clicked. I really “got” the concepts. I found I had an aptitude that I would not have expected. The job tapped into my creativity and developed my interpersonal skills. It was definitely the right path at that time.

When I met my husband (at a technical conference), I tried to give him the brush-off. We lived on different coasts and I didn’t want a long-distance relationship. Besides, I was already juggling four lovers. When he persisted, however, I discovered that being with him felt inexplicably comfortable. We spent the first three weeks of our life together driving across the US, a trip that could strain even a well-established couple. We had a fantastic time—and despite the newness of our relationship, the whole process turned out to be incredibly easy and natural.

Thirty nine years later, I understand: it was so much fun because we were obviously doing it right.

Note that joy is not exactly the same as happiness. It’s not about pleasure or entertainment. Joy is something deeper, a spiritual quality, a sense of satisfaction, order and symmetry. Sometimes it’s a quiet, soothing warmth humming under your solar plexus. Sometimes it’s laughter bubbling up out of nowhere, an urge to sing or to dance. Joy can be wordless, or it can spill out in poetry or paint.

I believe we are meant to feel joy and that when we do, we can trust we’re being our best and truest selves.

The fact that something kindles your joy doesn't mean it will be easy. Climbing a mountain, running a marathon, getting a degree, raising a child, or writing a book all take a huge amount of effort, but joy is the ultimate reward. And of course every life has its pain and its tragedies. But joy makes you more resilient.

Writing can be tough, frustrating work. We all complain when the words don’t flow or the characters don’t obey. We fight with incompetent editors, flinch at poor reviews, feel discouraged when our royalties don’t even begin to reach the level of minimum wage. In the face of all these negatives, why do we—why do I—keep writing? Out of love. Because of the joy.

Almost nothing compares to the sense of delight when I am in the groove, the words are flowing and the story is unfolding just as I’d imagined. It’s worth every bit of aggravation and every ounce of effort.

At least that’s how I feel. Your mileage may differ. But if you are truly suffering for your art, why bother? If what you're doing doesn't fundamentally satisfy you, give you that deep level feeling of rightness, maybe you are doing the wrong thing.

Not that I’m counseling my fellow authors to give up. Just stop and ask yourself: is it fun? And if not, what can you change so that it will be? 

For another take on this same topic, check out excellent Nicole Tierra's article on trusting your intuition: https://lifeclub.org/idea/intuition-trust-your-gut

I think she and I are saying the same thing, in slightly different ways.