I had three degrees before I could even find a job and even then, it wasn’t my first choice.
I guess that’s what happened when you studied archaeology.
It wasn’t the type of degree that opened doors easily although it did sound mighty impressive at boring dinner parties where everyone else was either a doctor or lawyer.
“Oh, I’m an archaeologist.”
The conversation would generally stop and people would stare at you for a minute as though you were a foreign species that had wandered in from outside their world; a sort of artefact if you like.
I guess in a way, I had.
So how the hell had I ended up writing trashy erotic fiction, more commonly known as porn in a country that was far removed from my own?
Ah, but that is a whole other story, for a whole other day.