blog hop

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After Midnight-An LGBT Urban Fantasy #MFRWHooks

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After Midnight: The Beginning (Living After Midnight Book 2)

Book cover After Midnight

#LGBT #UrbanFantasy #polyamory #novella

Book Hooks is a weekly blog hop hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers. Feel free to hop from one book to another. Maybe you’ll find a new favorite!

Overview:

Her taboo relationships give her new life. Now there's a secret worth dying for.

Jewell spent her college years avoiding two threats: sunlight and her sadistic stepfather.

Ria hails from a family of old-world vamps who want her to fall in line. Fat chance, especially since being in that line includes not being gay.

Being in love is easy for Ria and Jewell—they belong together like vodka and tomato juice. Adding a sexy incubus to their union is the hot sauce in their Bloody Mary. The only problem? Jewell's stepfather.

He demands Jewell return home. He's supported her for her entire life, and tuition isn't cheap. She belongs to him. Her debt has come due.

If she refuses, he'll kill her. If she agrees, it could expose a secret that will result in worldwide carnage.

Jewell and Ria have until dawn to decide…

...and it's already After Midnight.

Warning: This book features spicy supernatural creatures, an attempted assault that makes the perp wish he'd just stayed home, and a secret that changes everything.

After Midnight: The Beginning is the 2nd book in the LGBTQ urban fantasy series Living After Midnight. It can be read out of order and as a Happy for Now standalone.

A sneak peek!

A finger tapped her shoulder. "Hey there. Are you all alone?"

Jewell's head snapped towards the intrusion. Interesting. The same guy’s been heading toward Ria when he approached them before.

He grinned. "I kinda hope so. Is that too forward?"

Up close, he looked and smelled even more wholesome and delectable than he had before. Her very own hemoglobin happy meal. How could she turn down special delivery?

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Forward? Yes, but I like a man who takes a risk. Take another one and dance with me." She pressed her body against his.

He walked backward into the throng of dancers. "Kyle...I mean, my name is Kyle. What's yours? I'm a grad student at Cal State Fullerton, visiting my family for the summer. I'm a psychologist. I mean, not yet. I'm getting a Ph.D. in psychology, and well, I do work too, but I'm not-”

"Don't you want to kiss me?" She blinked her eyes slowly, in invitation.

"Wow, yes, but-"

She kissed his cheek and slid her mouth to his, teasing his lips with light licks. His tongue thrust into her mouth in an exuberant response.

Slow down, Kyle. It's just a kiss. Jewell chanted the phrase in her mind, willing him to own it like it was his idea. She hated mind-fucking anyone, especially someone as naive as this guy, but she couldn't take the chance he'd overreact to a public nibble.

Just a kiss.

He inhaled deeply. After the tension eased out of his body, she pierced the pulsating artery that ran down the side of his neck.

Just a kiss.

Kyle's low moan vibrated against her lips. "Just a kiss," he repeated.

"Sweet thang, he can't handle you." Cheyenne slipped his arm around Jewell's waist and tugged her away from Kyle's arms. "But I can."

She daintily wiped the corners of her mouth with her fingers, belying the anxiety she felt at being caught with her teeth in the cookie jar. "I was just, you know..."

She glanced back at Kyle as a young girl danced up to him. He was dazed, but he started to dance with her as she chatted away at him. He was going to be okay.

Cheyenne spun her around, moving with feline grace to the music's hard backbeat. There was no anger, no disappointment. There was only mischief in his eyes. "Yeah, I know. It's all good." He took her hand from her ear and kissed it.

Cheyenne embraced her. Her breasts pressed lightly against his chest. "He didn't deserve you anyway. Why settle for regular when you could have high octane?" He rubbed his cheek against hers. "Go ahead. Take a sip."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're right. I don't need to feed right now. And Ria is waiting. "

"It's fine. Look around. Everyone's dancing, doing their own thing. You weren't thinking about Ria a few minutes ago." He gently pushed her foot with his, moving her legs apart. "Besides, I'm hungry, too." Lifting the hem of her skirt, he slowly bunched it in his fist and moved his hand under the fabric to caress her bare legs. "Say yes." He slid his finger along the small strip of cotton between her thighs. They swayed as other couples danced around them, unaware.

The lust in his voice moved through her. Jewell kissed the side of his neck, the scent of his skin causing her teeth to descend. "Yes."

Available at major retailers.

https://books.trevannrogers.com/AfterMidnight

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House of the Rising Son #MFRWhooks

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Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood.

Alexander's future is all set: finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who'd be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He's barely met the woman his father expects him to marry. Keeping the peace is his priority. Until he meets Cheyenne.

If secrets are kept, they can never be together. If their secrets are exposed, chaos will reign in both families.

Either way, life will never be the same.

House of the Rising Son is the first book in the LGBTQIA+ urban fantasy series Living After Midnight.  Warning: This book features quirky supernatural creatures, a Thanksgiving dinner that makes the Inquisition look like a tea party, and an incubus that will rock your world.

Hook:

Were-tigers were not the inconspicuous type. If they were in the club, those assholes would be right in front.

From center stage, Cheyenne looked through the dark hair hanging over his eyes. He searched the rock crowd for the hostile faces of his father’s henchmen. So far, so good. No Were-tigers in sight. Instead, he saw tears trickling down the cheeks of women, and men holding cold bottles of beer against their foreheads.

His band jammed in the background, each member a talented musician, but the fans watched only him. They screamed and begged him for a sign of favor—a glance, a smile. He bit his lower lip, concealing a satisfied grin. He could ask them for all their worldly possessions, and they wouldn’t hesitate to oblige. But he wanted nothing except their lust, which fed him, and that was already his.

“I know what you want.” He moved his hands across his body, pushing up his black T-shirt to reveal a glimpse of stomach—and the promise of more. He teased, “I said I know what you want!” The crowd roared.

Cheyenne let his desire seep into his green eyes. “But you can’t have it.” The room exploded with cheers and applause.

He brought his palms together in front of his chest and bowed his head in mock humility as he savored the sweet, creamy taste of his fans’ longing. He rewarded them with a carnal, hungry gaze, then picked up his white Stratocaster. Fuck being an incubus, he thought. I’m a rock star.

Get House of the Rising Son here:

https://books.apple.com/us/book/house-of-the-rising-son/id6445258059

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/house-of-the-rising-son-trevann-rogers/1122604899

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/house-of-the-rising-son-3

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XPZX3G5

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/trevann-rogers

 

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Gale Stanley's The Bathhouse

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Join me in welcoming Gale Stanley and her book, The Bathhouse!

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THE BATHHOUSE is a gay, multicultural, second chance romance. Enjoy!

BLURB

Reed Barton is a millionaire who can have anything he wants, except the one thing he desires most. His first love. He’s spent years trying to recreate the night they met in a San Francisco bathhouse. The image of the beautiful Filipino man who took his virginity is never far from his thoughts.

Reed’s life is turned upside down when his long-lost love reappears -- and not in a good way. Joseph Castro is not quite what he seems. Time and experience have changed both men, and there’s no going back. But maybe, together, they can go forward.

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/167085037-the-bathhouse

EXCERPT

The service center looked much as Reed remembered it. His eagle-eyed inspection didn’t miss much as he made his way around the crowded cubicles. Some workers weren’t as attentive as others and he made note of them.

Glancing up, he caught sight of a man entering a cubicle at the end of the aisle. Their eyes met and a shock of recognition hit Reed like a tidal wave.

No. It couldn’t be. Could it? Oh, God, let it be him.

The Filipino gave the barest nod of recognition and disappeared behind the wall of his workspace and just like that the years melted away and their night together seemed like only yesterday.

Reed’s heart beat fast and hard. Foolishly, he wondered if Babyboy felt the same electric charge that he did. Wishful thinking. More likely, the Filipino remembered him as just another encounter from the distant past. Did Reed want to find out? Yes, he needed to know. Reed took a few deep breaths and pulled himself together. It would be wrong to show too much interest in an employee. He forced himself to continue his tour and when he reached the man’s cubicle, he looked inside. The nameplate on the desk said Joseph Castro.

Joseph Castro had his headset on, apparently helping a customer. Reed stood transfixed, watching the Filipino at work. Joseph spoke calmly in slightly accented English that seemed to caress each word. It had been years, but Reed found himself getting hot just thinking of how that voice had whispered dirty talk in his ear.

Joseph ended his call and looked up. “Hello, Pogi.”

The words were so soft, Reed wondered if he’d really heard them. He mouthed back. “Babyboy.”

Joseph sighed, but didn’t speak another word. They stared at each other and it felt like a scene from a cheesy movie, where the room fades to a blur while the two heroes connect in a powerful silent dialog. Despite the intervening years, the emotions that washed over Reed were familiar. Caught in a time warp, Reed felt as if summer had finally arrived after a long severe winter.

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Release Blitz: Swingers Light Up Vegas, by Adriana Kraft

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Join me in welcoming Adriana Kraft!

At 90? Really?

In case you missed it, Movie Star Rita Moreno, 91, recently owned up on TV to becoming aroused while filming her latestmovie. The scene? A men’s football locker room featuring, you guessed it, virile hunks changing clothes.

Meanwhile, I was recently chatting with a librarian friend about the erotic romance my husband and I co-author under our pen name, Adriana Kraft—at our age. My friend laughed and told me about an elderly woman who came to her library each week to request specific books. When she warned the woman how explicit one of the books was, the woman drew herself up and proclaimed, “I’m not dead yet!”

Both these women – Rita Moreno and our librarian’s patron – are three to four decades older than the happily married pair who star in our brand-new release, Swingers Light Up Vegas. Dan and Ginger have been swingers since their children grew up and left home a few years back, and they’re in Las Vegas to celebrate Ginger’s fiftieth birthday.

Swinging at 50? Feeling sexy (and desirable) at 50? Hardly a stretch of the imagination. There are lots of swingers age 50 and older. In some larger cities, there are clubs specifically by and for the older swing set, who’ve often aged out of more general lifestyle gatherings.

I think our fictional couple could easily have found such a club on their Las Vegas trip – in fact, they were referred to it by somewhat older friends back home in the Midwest.

We’ve created this short story to feed reader fantasies with a taste of the swing lifestyle. If you like this teaser, we hope you’ll come back for more!

What happens in Vegas…

Swingers Dan and Ginger head to Las Vegas to celebrate Ginger’s fiftieth birthday. Through their friends back home, they’ve scored a free week at a posh Vegas resort condominium. They fill their days with every iconic Las Vegas experience they can dream up. But by night? They’re determined not to leave Vegas without sampling what it has to offer in the erotically charged swing lifestyle. A Vegas swing club beckons – will it live up to their fantasies?

Excerpt

Déjà vu, all over again.

Ginger wasn’t sure if the thought was part of her dream or part of her waking up, but it made her smile. Her full-body stretch confirmed she had some aching muscles—not really sore, but a soft ache that brought back steamy memories. What a night!

She finally opened her eyes to the sight of Dan holding out a hot mug of coffee. If the scent had awakened her, she had no memory trace.

Dan settled in next to her on the bed, a broad smile on his face that she knew mirrored her own. “What a treat,” she said, “to watch you with Lai last night. She sure is a cracker jack. High energy—wonder if she’s insatiable.”

“Pretty close, I’d say. I’m so glad they want another round before we leave. If we do decide to buy a condo here, it looks like the swinging scene is pretty promising. And you’ve gotta know how much I loved watching you and Lai together. You two were so in sync.”

“I do know.” Ginger snuggled a bit closer and clasped Dan’s free hand with her own. “When we started this adventure, it was mostly so I could act on the bi identity I’d finally become aware of. I had no clue how much watching me with another woman would be a turn-on for you, too.”

Book Information:

  • Swingers Light Up Vegas

  • By Adriana Kraft

  • Release Date: January 30, 2023

  • Length: 5,500 words

  • Tags: Short Story, Erotic Romance, Swing Lifestyle, Later in Life, LGBTQ

Buy Links:

FREE with subscription to Adriana Kraft’s Newsletter:

https://storyoriginapp.com/giveaways/d1c82f5e-9b43-11ed-8c5e-b712215e57d9

PURCHASE FOR 99 CENTS

Universal Book Link: https://books2read.com/u/bQN2lZ

Available at Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, ScribD, Smashwords

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Adriana Kraft is the pen name for a married pair of retired professors writing erotic romance and erotic romantic suspensetogether. We like to think we’ve broken the mold for staid, fusty academics, and we hope lots of former profs are enjoying life as much as we are. We believe that love is love is love, and weoften feature bisexual women and ménage in our erotic romance stories. Together we have published more than fifty erotic romance novels and novellas to outstanding reviews.

During our academic careers, we lived in many states across the Midwest. We love to travel, so when we retired, we sold our house and took off in our motor home across the country. We now make our home in southern Arizona, where we enjoy hiking, golf, and travel, especially to the many Arizona Native American historical sites.

We’ve featured the swing lifestyle in a number of our erotic romance stories. We penned this short story to give readers a quick taste of swinging – erotically charged, always, and a safe place for bisexual women to express the full range of their sexuality. We’ve written an entire series of novellas set in the lifestyle, entitled Swinging Games. We hope you’ll check them out! And as always, reviews are the lifeblood of romance authors, so we hope you’ll leave one for us.

Website: https://adrianakraft.com

Blog: https://www.adrianakraft.com/blog

Newsletter: free download of our erotic romance novella Cherry Tune-Up for signing up.

Twitter https://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/adriana.kraft.5

Facebook Fan Page https://www.facebook.com/AdrianaKraftAuthor

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/author/adrianakraft

GoodReads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1578571.Adriana_Kraft

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

BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/adriana-kraft

Extasy Books Page https://www.extasybooks.com/adriana-kraft

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Characters and Settings: How I Keep It Together #MFRWAuthors

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I stumbled around for a long time trying to work out a system of getting characters and settings settled in my mind. I usually start with an actor who could play the character I have in mind. Being able to see real people makes their physical characteristics easier to describe.But after awhile I tended to mix them up with other characters in the book—or even another book. Sometimes I totally forget what I’ve written. My haphazard records didn’t ensure that my characters eye color or hair didn’t change from one page to the next. In 2009, everything changed. I discovered a book called Break Into Fiction by Mary Buckham and Dianna Love. I worked through all the exercises and pulled all my notes together. I didn’t have to generate new information about my characters but this book gave me a record keeping system.

Since then I’ve looked at several systems for creating characters and settings but none have been as helpful as this book. Moreover, I attended two weekend workshops with Ms. Buckham which cleared up questions I had.

I’m afraid I’m not as particular about settings. The ones in my books tend to be real places I have been or seen. For example, Zander’s apartment in House of the Rising Son is modeled after Brian Kinney’s loft in Queer as Folk. Although I may change a few things, having concrete places in mind keeps me from having settings change constantly.

Today when I have a new plot percolating, one of the first things I do is to pull out my copy of Break Into Fiction and tackle those worksheets. I may not come up with all the answers when I start but this system reminds me that I need to know them to finish.

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I Like Keeping Them With Me #MFRWAuthor

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You may have heard the warning about never making a writer mad at you or you will meet a disastrous end in their book. I will admit to having desire to serve justice in writing on occasion but I don't believe I have ever done it. What would be the point? It would serve as a reminder of my anger every time I read it. I've never had a family member in a story either. They just don't fit into the kind of stories I write. Last time I checked they were all human and not a rock star in the bunch.

On the other hand, I have a few friends who have appeared on the page. Ria and Jewell are composites of people I know. Auntie Vi, a major player in Volume Two of Cheyenne's story, has been in the background for awhile waiting for her curtain call. Chance, the star of WOLVES (from my upcoming New Adult urban fantasy) is very much one of my friends. I wonder if he will recognize himself. My doctor will make an appearance in WOLVES, at his request. Yes, you read that correctly. He asked to be a character in the novel. My doctor is a very cool guy.

In truth, my characters are more likely based on actors, sports figures, or musicians who have the look I am going for. I will base my character on those looks, changing some of the details here and there as I see fit. My take on their personalities comes from what feelings their looks evoke.

Often, I'll develop a character and spend months playing in that character's world but not finish a story about him (it's usually a him). A hundred percent of the time, however, these beloved characters will appear in supporting roles in other stories--sometimes multiple other stories. I suppose I like keeping my “friends” with me.

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Finishing a Book: Complex Endings and Beginnings

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I have friends who throw parties when their manuscript is finished. One even rented a hall, catered it, and signed books for the occasion. Others unceremoniously set it aside and start the next one. And others who throw up their hands in exasperation and declare they are sick of the whole thing, refusing to look at it again. I have elements of each of those extreme reactions, with a healthy dose of relief that comes completing a big project that is personally significant, and a little bit of grief that it's over. Not that I ever finish a manuscript. Rather, I am more likely to have it taken from me before I “edit all the life out of it”. Even after it has been sent off to the editor, I am likely to keep rewriting it in my mind.My best luck at letting go seems to be when I can bury myself in a new project. I keep a notebook of ideas and rely on a gem inside to intrigue me enough to pull me away.

There is so much that has to happen to successfully launch a book I am not sure how anyone finds the time to celebrate at all. And because for me, writing is something I'm driven to do, have no choice but to do, I forget what a monumental accomplishment completing a novel truly is. Going forward, I plan to honor my achievement by buying myself something nice. Some possibilities?

  • A Barnes and Noble shopping Spree
  • An Amazon gift card
  • A new tote bag
  • A fancy pen
  • A fancy journal
  • Chocolate

Hmm. Now that I look at these all in a row like that, it seems what I want for finishing a book includes only books and writing related things. Which bring me right back to writing. Oh, well.

Yes. Chocolate is involved. Chocolate is always involved. #don'tjudgeme

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Writing Contests: An Unfortunate Peek Behind the Curtain

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I don't “do” contests, either to enter or to judge. As a newbie writer, I competed in a couple of them early on, but a few meetings of various writer’s group cured me of thinking the feedback would be worth the money they charged. A writing group I'd joined spent several meetings trying to come up with money making ideas. One such idea was to offer critiques for a fee. Although I admit that I was skeptical of this as a fundraising strategy, I listened to seasoned writers refusing to “waste their time”. I listened to people with one or two books under their belts wanting to charge hundreds of dollars to read and comment on entries. I listened to someone who had never been able to pitch a book successfully wanting to charge to critique pitches and offer developmental critiques. The entire process had me wondering if we might do more harm than good offering such services.

For my first bad personal experience, I was in a meeting where the officers were giving an update on the progress of the contest. A simple discussion turned into a tirade by members of the club’s contest who apparently thought they were unduly burdened. For more than 40 minutes people complained. They were sick of the horrendous writing and burdened by the contest rules which required them to offer meaningful critiques. On and on they lamented about wasting their time on writers who were clearly clueless and never going to be publishable. Yes, they actually said these things and worse. I was mortified for those in the room who, in good faith, had submitted their work. I vowed then to never enter another contest.

I decided to never again judge a contest due to a similar ridiculous circumstance. I was asked to help my group out and critique a few contest entries. I was skeptical of my ability as I was newly published and still learning to be a better writer myself. But I figured I'd view my role as one of a beta reader and offer my take on the author's story structure and ability to draw me in as a reader. I explained this and was assured that my plan was in line with the rules/goals of the contest. I was also assured (and in fact, the rules of the contest stated explicitly) that the judges' feedback and scores would be anonymous.

Flash forward to weeks after the winners were announced. To my horror, one of the contestants approached me and complained about the score she'd received. As you might imagine, I was stunned. I did keep my cool, and reminded her to look at my comments and not just the score because I, in fact, liked her story. I scored her in accordance with the judges' rubric and offered meaningful and kind feedback. To add insult to injury, every time we ran into each other over the next year or so, she pointed at me and announced to whoever was nearby (including agents and editors!) that "she hates my writing".

Yes, I did go back to the contest's organizers to complain. I was assured there was "no way she could know". Funny. Because she did know.

By no means do I discount all writing contests. There are many notable competitions resulting in significant accolades and opportunities for winners and runner ups. My advice to new writers would be to investigate each contest thoroughly. Just a few sample inquiries: What is the reputation of the sponsoring group? Are there many participants? What are the qualifications of the judges? What kind of feedback will you receive?

Have you entered or judged any writing contests? What was your experience? I hope lightyears better than mine.

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That Which I’d Rather Not Do

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Some things fill me with such dread that I can’t bear to think about them for more than seconds before my pulse starts to race and my brain becomes fuzzy in its retreat from facing the horror. You know the kind of thoughts we all run from. The age of our parents, siblings, pets. The health of said loved ones. To stay sane, I can’t allow myself to truly think about those. In fact, I’ll stop right here. So let’s see, what else do I avoid doing?

I procrastinate deliberately and fully when it is time to change out our seasonal clothes. I used to store out of season clothes in bins in the basement. But I got tired of the seemingly endless trips up and down the stairs. First trips to bring up the next season's clothes, then again to put away the season's. Eventually I could not face that anymore and began storing the bins in the mudroom/pantry. They still have to be stacked and unstacked and dragged through the house to the bedroom for examination. I’m really getting to old for this shit.

Each season I promise I am going to try on every piece of clothing and pass on any that don't fit or look like I want them too. But after a few bins, I am tired and start finding empty drawers to shove them into. At that point I promise to throw away anything I put on through the season and don't like. Of course I never do. I know which ones of those items is not going to fit like I want so I don’t bother to even touch them.

Winter to summer transition is easier because the clothes are less bulky and I am more likely to find a place in my drawers and closets for all of them. Summer to winter is a nightmare because I love heavy sweaters but I can only fit a couple of them in the drawer that held 15 t-shirts. There are usually several empty bins left over when summer clothes are put away.

The real problem is transition time when the weather does not know if it is going to be warm or cold and I need a variety of weights. Procrastination is at its peak. I don't want to hunt in those bins for specific pieces of clothing. So I do what any true American does.

I go shopping.

Tell me, is there something you’d rather not do, ever again?

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Island Girl? Not a Chance. #MFRWAuthor

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This week’s blog hop topic gave me more trouble than it should have. I read, “What I would invent if I were on an island?” I immediately thought about a deserted island, which is not necessarily the case at all. It could be an abandoned island resort. It could be the island home of a very rich celebrity. It could be the training ground for an elite set of assassins... I digress.

My mind went to deserted island and the immediate need for air conditioning. I hate the heat. And it would be in the tropics. Right? Who ever got stranded on a snow covered island?

Dragging myself from the idea of air conditioning and wealthy estates, I decided that it would be a deserted island without comforts. What might actually need if I were there?

My thoughts went to the television show Naked and Afraid. I’ve seen a few episodes and sat in horror watching these people with bugs in their hair, bare feet, no food or water. Naked.

Let that sink in. Why would someone want to do that? It is not in my realm of understanding.

I would need shoes at least, a water supply, a means of making fire. Even if I could start a fire, I would have no idea how to clean an animal so that it would be edible. Then again, it could be the perfect opportunity to go completely vegan. It might work if I had any idea at all how to differentiate between edible and poisonous. Did I mention I hate vegetables?

At any rate, I would not be inventing anything. If I was ambitious, I would manufacture stuff I already know I'd need. I can’t think of anything totally new I'd need to create.

I did have one take away. I would starve to death in a matter of days.

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There’s a Hole in My Bucket List

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Bucket lists seem to be a big thing these days. While I never thought of it as a bucket list there were some things I wanted to accomplish before I am too old to enjoy them. Maybe my ambitions were small. Maybe I was lucky because my goals have been fulfilled for the most part. Or maybe my bucket had a leak. The things I haven't done were set aside mostly because I grew up and decided I didn’t want to do those things after all. For instance, for a long time I was enamored with celebrating New Year’s Eve in Times Square. The outing quickly lost its appeal when i learned about the lack of bathrooms. I am both too old and too young to wear a diaper.

After realizing that I don’t have a bucket list, I decide to research them. I perused the internet to look at other peoples’ bucket lists. Many were filled with exotic places or, strangely, related to heights. I couldn’t really relate to those but I suspect I could add traveling if I gave it some thought.

It was fun to see some of the things I have done on other people’s list. It might be even more fun to look at lists and compile one of things I have done. It makes me smile just thinking about some of my adventures.

I have seen Prince live nearly 100 times. I met him and got his autograph. I stood beside him and realized he is shorter than I am. I went to his concerts on two continents. When I was in MPLS, I was nearly involved in a traffic accident with him.

But is that 5 items on just one?

I’ve met Jason Momoa three times—and he remembered me. That probably makes two.

Hmm. Maybe I could borrow some that I found on other peoples’ lists for the other 3. Let’s see. I’ve done a ride along in a police car. I’ve stood in two different states at the same time. In the same vein, I’ve stood atop two mountains that allowed me to see multiple other states. I’ve ridden in a hot air balloon. And I have driven a limousine.(No, neither Prince or Jason were involved.)

I think I’ll start keeping a list of all the things I HAVE done. My life is full. I don’t need to focus on what I haven’t done—yet. Which reminds me:

I need to meet Roman Reigns!

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If I Could Just Talk to Them #MFRWAuthor #book #authors

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The list of writers I would like to meet and talk with is long. I’ve always been an avid reader and was lucky enough to discover Ray Bradbury, Robert A. Heinlein, Anne MCCaffery, and Ursula LeGuin as relatively new writers. But before them, I had fallen under the spell of Andre Norton. Born Alice Mary Norton, she wrote at a time when publishers believed only boys read science fiction, and obviously only males could write it. She wrote other books under pen names Allen Norton or Allen Weston. Her juvenile fiction usually featured an outsider who survives challenges and becomes the hero figure, saving the day. This “rites of passage” theme appealed a broad audience making her a best seller to adults also. My love of “underdog heroes” can be attributed to her.

A little later, I discovered Barbara Michaels who I suppose would be classified as Gothic romance. Again the outsider, usually considered the “bad boy” in the beginning of the book would turn out to be the hero in the end.

I would love to talk to these women about how they withstood the prejudices against female authors (and readers) and flourished and became the leaders in their genre.

Some time between Norton and Micheals I discovered H.P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard. Both these authors wrote in the 30’s but had a resurgence of popularity. I can almost understand my attraction for Conan who was born a slave but became a king. He does loosely fit my character preferences. But my attraction to the cult of Cthulhu confused me until I remembered The Dunwich Horror in which the truly bad guy was my favorite character. He became a bad guy because the townspeople hated his family and shunned him.

So my third author would be H.P. Lovecraft. I would love to understand the working of his imagination. And I would like him to know that while he was never recognized during his lifetime, 80 years later he and his creatures are an integral part of the horror genre.

My 4th and 5th authors are still living. I would love to talk to Tanya Huff and Poppy Z Brite and ask why they stopped writing my favorite books. Tanya moved from main characters who were gay males to write female main characters in the military. And Poppy went from anguished gay males to books that seem to be about food in New Orleans. If I could just talk to them, for even a moment, I'd also beg them to write just one more book in their old style.

 

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