What Jelvia Became When Romance Was No Longer Enough

When I began writing Jelvia, I had a clear entry point in mind. A human woman meets an alien man. She falls for him. He is dangerous and not meant for her. The tension sits there, in attraction complicated by fear and power.

That shape is familiar for a reason. It works. It gives the reader something recognisable to hold on to while the world around it grows stranger. The first book leans into that expectation. A human perspective. An alien presence. A relationship that feels charged because it shouldn’t exist.

At the time, I thought that was the story.

What I hadn’t anticipated was how quickly that framework would begin to strain under the weight of everything else the series was doing.

As the books progressed, the alien stopped functioning purely as a romantic other. He accumulated history, responsibility, and guilt. The invasion itself shifted from being an external event to something embedded in memory, language, and systems people had already accepted as normal. The story became less about first contact and more about what happens after contact has been absorbed, justified, and quietly rewritten.

Romance didn’t disappear, but it stopped being sufficient as the primary lens.

That was the first real fracture point. I could either keep smoothing the story back into the shape I had originally promised, or allow it to follow the logic it was already establishing. The latter meant accepting imbalance. It meant some books would lean heavily into intimacy, while others would step away from it almost entirely.

Macy and Narcifer’s storyline carries the strongest romantic spine in the series, particularly in books one and four. Their relationship matters. It changes outcomes. It holds emotional weight because it exists under pressure from forces neither of them fully controls.

Outside of that arc, the focus widens.

Beth’s story is less concerned with romantic fulfilment and more concerned with power, consent, and survival. Courtney and Aldarn’s story is where the reader begins to realise that something is fundamentally wrong with the Jelvian world.

This was the point where I had to stop playing safe.

Developing the Wake Up Movement meant widening the lens further. James, Phil, Oliver, and Calder were not added to soften the story but to expose it. Their presence makes the system visible. It removes the comfort of seeing events through a single emotional relationship.

Continuing to present the series as a straightforward alien romance would have been easier. It would have aligned more cleanly with reader expectations. It would also have required softening characters, simplifying consequences, and pretending that affection alone could counterbalance systems designed to control and erase.

That was no longer the story I was willing to write.

I Just Wanted to Write a Book

 

Sometimes I think being an author is 10% writing and 90% staring at screens wondering what on earth I’ve just broken.

I’ll sit down thinking, Right, today I’ll write a chapter, and somehow end up three hours later comparing ad dashboards, wondering why my book is cheaper in one country than another, and questioning my life choices because I’ve just realised I haven’t updated my Goodreads profile for… five years.

There’s a particular kind of mental gymnastics involved in author life. One minute you’re deep in a character’s grief. The next you’re resizing a box set image by three pixels because Facebook doesn’t like the crop. Then you’re rewriting your bio for the seventeenth time because it sounds either too serious, not serious enough, or like you’ve accidentally joined a cult.

We have to be writers, marketers, designers, accountants, IT support, and emotional support for ourselves. We’re expected to know why Amazon ads are ‘pending’, why BookBub is ‘live but not live’, why something worked yesterday and doesn’t today, and why every platform uses different words for the same thing just to keep us alert.

And then there’s the social media dance. Be visible, but not salesy. Be authentic, but polished. Be consistent, but spontaneous. Share your work, but don’t bang on about it. Engage, but don’t live online.

But which platform should you be using? Facebook is dead, except when it isn’t. Instagram matters, unless it doesn’t. TikTok is essential, terrifying, and apparently the answer to everything. Threads exists. X exists. Newsletters are vital, assuming anyone opens them. Every expert insists their platform works, provided you post constantly, effortlessly, and with the exact right tone while pretending you’re not trying at all.

As for what to post. Reels. Stories. Possibly both. Is there a difference? Who knows.

All of this happens quietly in the background while readers are just reading our books. They don’t see the spreadsheets, the half-written posts, the ‘I’ll fix that later’ notes, or the moment you realise you’ve spent an entire morning moving commas around instead of writing anything new. They don’t see the tears, the arguments, or the frantic emails to the editor, who often becomes emotional support as well.

So if authors sound slightly unhinged when talking about ads and algorithms, this is why. We’re not dramatic. We’re just constantly one minor platform update away from lying down on the floor and reassessing our life choices.

But anyway... 

Back to writing.

Jelvia: Not Human is now available in box sets

Jelvia: Not Human is now available in box sets

After being asked, repeatedly, whether Jelvia: Not Human would ever be released as box sets, I have accepted that this was not a casual enquiry and acted accordingly.

The series will be available from 19 January in two box sets, split at the point where the story itself stops offering comfortable assumptions.

Box Set One: Books One to Three

The first box set collects the opening part of the story in a single volume.

Earth believes the Jelvias have always existed alongside humanity. History supports it. Records agree. Memory complies. This confidence is misplaced.

Control tightens gradually and then all at once. Relationships are steered rather than chosen. Free will exists, but largely as a concept people prefer not to examine too closely. None of this is immediately obvious, which is why it works.

The books were written to follow on directly from one another, so collecting them this way makes sense. It also avoids the suggestion that a change of cover somehow counts as resolution.

Box Set Two: Books Four to Six

The second box set completes the series.

This is the point where explanations lose their usefulness and consequences take over. The truth behind the invasion surfaces, resistance becomes unavoidable, and survival starts demanding decisions that cannot be quietly reversed later. Nobody emerges unscathed and several people would argue they were never given a fair chance to begin with.

This box set closes the story that began in Holding Out for a Hero. Nothing is reset, fixed, or generously reinterpreted.

Why the box sets exist

The series runs as a continuous narrative rather than a collection of stand-alone novels. Splitting it into two box sets allows readers to move through each half without interruption, whether they are starting from the beginning or finally seeing the whole thing through.

Both box sets will be available on Amazon from 19 January.

Thank you to everyone who has stayed with this story from the start. Your commitment is impressive, even if your taste for punishment remains questionable.

That New Amazon AI ‘Ask This Book’ Thing Has Made Me Pause

That new Amazon Ask This Book thing has made me stop and think.

I don’t usually rush to complain about platform changes, although I did when Amazon switched Kindle Unlimited to paying by pages read. That move hit a lot of authors’ earnings, mine included, and it was worth pushing back on. This feels like another one of those moments.

On the surface, Ask This Book sounds quite handy. Readers can ask questions about a book and get instant answers. But the more I’ve thought about it, the less comfortable I am.

I came across this after seeing A. K Caggiano talking about it on Instagram. Worth a look if you’re an author and missed it.

So what does this mean? It lets readers type questions about a book and receive automated answers based on the text itself. But they aren't the answers the author’s chosen. It’s the system’s interpretation of what the book says. 

In effect, the system reads the book and tells the reader what it thinks the answer is.

In my opinion, stories aren’t reference guides. They aren’t meant to be skimmed for answers. They’re built on voice, pacing, tension, and emotional payoff. An automated tool doesn’t understand subtext, tone, or why a story can be bleak, unresolved, or heartbreaking and still be satisfying. If it flattens a character or misrepresents something important, readers won’t blame the feature. They’ll blame the author.

There’s also the spoiler issue. If someone can ask whether a character dies, whether a relationship works out, or what kind of ending they’re getting, that changes how fiction is consumed. Stories become something to query rather than experience. That might suit some people, but it feels like a loss to me.

And what bothers me most is that authors weren’t asked.

There’s currently no way to opt out. I went onto KDP chat and asked directly if my books could be unenrolled from the feature. The answer was no. There is no unenrol option at all. My objection was logged as feedback and given a case number, but that’s as far as it goes.

If you’re an author or a reader and you’ve got thoughts on this, I’d genuinely like to hear them. Feel free to comment or message me. 

As for me, I’m still mulling all this over.

After the Ending

Now that the Jelvia: Not Human series is finished, I keep catching myself thinking about it at odd moments. Not in a dramatic way. More in the sense of reaching for something that’s no longer there.

Six books is a long time to stay inside one world. Longer still when the story is built around memory, control, and people making choices they believe are right. Some of these characters have been with me through other books, other projects, and plenty of real life happening in the background. Finishing them wasn’t a rush of relief. It was quieter than that.

I’ve been asked whether there’ll be more Jelvia. There won’t be. The story reached the ending it needed, and carrying it on would have meant softening truths I wasn’t prepared to soften. That restraint mattered more to me than comfort.

That doesn’t mean I’m done writing. I already have the beginnings of something else, circling familiar ground from a different angle. It’s still rooted in memory and perception, but I’m letting it settle before deciding what it wants to be. I’ve learned to trust ideas that take their time.

Mostly, I’m grateful. To the readers who stayed with the series through its darker turns and didn’t need everything neatly resolved. To those who trusted me to finish it honestly, even when that meant sitting with discomfort.

If you’re new to the series, it starts with Holding Out for a Hero and follows its logic all the way to the end.

I didn’t give the characters the ending I wanted for them. I gave them the one their world allowed.

http://bit.ly/Jelvia

Step by Step: From Fiction to Digital ID #DigitalID #SciFiBooks #IndieAuthor #BookQuotes #PrivacyMatters

‘When I made the Committee, it was meant to be a tool, a safeguard against chaos. It gave order, nothing more. But order is never enough for those who wield it. They asked for more control, then more still, until the tool became the master, and I let it happen.’ Aldarn’s all-black gaze dimmed. ‘Remember, it does not come in a storm. It comes step by step, so small no one notices. By the time you do, it is too late. Choice will have gone, and the people believe it was never theirs.’

If you think this sounds familiar, the UK Government is already laying the groundwork with its digital ID plans. They call it efficiency, but function creep is real. 'Step by step', what begins as convenience can become control, until you wake up one day and find choice has gone.

The Committee is here already, I just didn't realise it at the time of writing Jelvia: Not Human!

Amazon

When Your Family Reads the Naughty Bits #rudebits

So, here we are. The Jelvia: Not Human series is complete, published, and out there for anyone to buy, read, and (gulp) review. You’d think the scariest part of publishing would be waiting for strangers’ feedback. Wrong.

The real fear? Family.

It’s one thing for a reviewer on Amazon to say 'gripping story, a little too steamy for my taste.' I can live with that. What’s harder to live with is imagining my grown-up son or daughter-in-law reading the same scene and then looking at me across the dinner table. Or worse — giving me a knowing wink.

Because here’s the thing: when you write romance, or even just sprinkle in a bit of spice, you know full well that people you love and respect are going to read it. Parents. Adult children. In-laws. That nice cousin who still calls you “our Lou.” All of them, potentially, turning the page and finding themselves somewhere they’d rather not be with me.

I tell myself they’ll skim over those parts. I tell myself they’ll be too busy admiring my clever plotting and alien world-building. But deep down, I know the truth: nothing sticks in a reader’s mind like a well-written sex scene. And when the reader is your own son or your daughter-in-law, you start wishing you’d written a sweet, wholesome book about hedgehogs instead.

But here’s the other truth: those scenes belong in the story. They’re not there for titillation (well, not only). They’re part of the characters’ journey, their vulnerability, their connection. To cut them out would be dishonest. And I’d rather my son and daughter-in-law squirm a bit than cheat my characters of their truth.

So yes, I worry. I worry about reviews, and I worry about family reactions. But at the end of the day, I wrote the story I needed to tell. If my son or his wife reads a page that makes them blush… well, at least it proves they were paying attention.

And if they really can’t handle it, there are five other books in the series with aliens, explosions, betrayals, and plenty of commas to argue about.

As for me? I’ll be hiding behind a cushion at every family gathering, praying no one says the words: 'Mum, about that scene…'

Wise Books | Kessler Books