Hi everybody at Roxanne’s Realm!!
I am so happy to be here today promoting my new release Love Spell, a YA LGBTQ Contemporary Romantic Comedy with Love Spells (a new literary genre I invented)!!
In Love Spell, Chance César, the gender fluid main character, resorts to casting love spells to make the boy of his dreams fall in love with him. His actions got me to thinking… love spells are fun, because it is as if you can have your wished magically granted. I wondered, what wishes would I have granted if I could? Yes, this is fun, but I realize it is important to choose my wishes wisely.
The following are my three wishes, and for the record, I’m not going to use them for BIG IMPORTANT STUFF like curing cancer, putting an end to war, or creating world peace. Of course I would use three wishes for those things in real life (if we were ever actually granted three wishes in real life), but this is supposed to be an entertaining blog post so I will be creative and, hopefully, fun in my choices.
NO MORE GRAY ROOTS. A Grooming Genie—I promise this will not be TMI—would magically appear in my bathroom every 4-6 weeks and with an enchanted paint brush and a pot of golden brown hair dye, with one goal in mind: to artistically cover Momma Mia’s shades of gray. (My hairdresser would say, “Hello, Mia! You already have a Grooming Genie at Refresh Salon and her name is Tracey,” but going with an actual Grooming Genie would involve far less effort on my part and provide me with a periodical, and rather whimsical, morning moment I’m certain I would come to cherish.
NO MORE COMPUTER CONFUSION. I have a lot of questions with regard to my Apple computer. Who am I trying to kid? I am completely clueless when it comes to anything with a keyboard!! And so, I would introduce to you the At-Mia’s-Service Computer Guru…
Lost files? “A thing of the past, my dear!”
Debilitating viruses? “Oh, Mia, those are but bad memories!”
Living in fear of a total computer crash, like the one I had in January of 2015? “Can you say ‘ancient history’?”
How on earth do I make a meme? “Here you go, sweet Mia—three easy steps!”
How do I save this to a desktop folder when it is in downloads? “Don’t you worry your pretty, not-at-all-gray head, girlfriend!! I’ve got your back!”
“YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!!!”
Well, you get the picture.
BLINK TWICE FOR A MOCHA LATTE *made with skim milk and an extra shot of espresso. Yes, I would have my very own—and I’m not sharing him so don’t even ask—Coffee Cabana Boy. I would only have to conjure an image of a tall, frothy mocha latte and I would soon hear the rumbling sound, and smell the rich scent, of espresso brewing. Included as a free per drink bonus in Wish #3 would be a generous helping of no-calorie whipped cream and shaved chocolate on top. And a tall spoon.
A girl can dream.
So there you have it—Mia’s whimsical wishes!!!
As I mentioned above, in Love Spell, Chance César has a far more pointed goal for the spells he casts. He wants to capture the heart of the boy he loves. See how it turns out for him!!!
Genre: YA LGBTQ
Contemporary Romantic Comedy
Publisher: CoolDudes Publishing
Date of Publication: June 1, 2015
Number of pages: 123
Word Count: 44,300
Cover Artist: Louis C Harris
Strutting his stuff on the catwalk in black patent leather pumps and a snug orange tuxedo as this year’s Miss (ter) Harvest Moon feels so very right to Chance César, and yet he knows it should feel so very wrong.
As far back as he can remember, Chance has been “caught between genders.” (It’s quite a touchy subject; so don’t ask him about it.) However, he does not question his sexual orientation. Chance has no doubt about his gayness—he is very much out of the closet at his rural New Hampshire high school, where the other students avoid the kid they refer to as “girl-boy.”
But at the local Harvest Moon Festival, when Chance, the Pumpkin Pageant Queen, meets Jasper Donahue, the Pumpkin Carving King, sparks fly. So Chance sets out, with the help of his BFF, Emily, to make “Jazz” Donahue his man.
An article in an online women’s magazine, Ten Scientifically Proven Ways to Make a Man Fall in Love with You (and a bonus love spell thrown in for good measure), becomes the basis of their strategy to capture Jazz’s heart.
Quirky, comical, definitely flamboyant, and with an inner core of poignancy, Love Spell celebrates the diversity of a gender-fluid teen.
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/Lx7mVc8846E
Available at Amazon
Not to say that I kept my phone basically right beneath my chin for the next four days, but I kept my phone basically right beneath my chin for the next four days. Yes, I was oh-so-pathetically waiting for his call, which I am aware fully explains the need for the phrase “get a life.” But Jazz hadn’t been at school on the Thursday or Friday after he had called and cancelled our playdate, and now it’s Sunday night, and I still haven’t heard from him. And although I’m frustrated that all of my elaborate plans to make him fall head over heels in love with moi have apparently tanked, I’m also growing genuinely concerned.
That’s when my cell phone, which I placed on my chest before I lay down on my now “love-spell-pink” wrapped mattress, starts singing Express Yourself.
“Yo.” I don’t check the number. It’s Emmy—who else would it be?
“Hi, Chance.” The deep voice is so not Emmy’s.
Yaaassss!!! This is what ninety-nine percent of my insides shout. One percent says quietly, “It’s about frigging time you called, asshole.”
But my voice is calm. “Jasper,” I say blandly. In my opinion, he hasn’t earned the right to be called Jazz any longer.
“Um, sorry, no. It’s Jazz.”
I try not to roll my eyes even though I know he won’t see, but it’s an epic fail. “Whatever.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch for a couple days. My mom’s been real sick. I was lookin’ after her, gettin’ her to the doctor, goin’ to the pharmacy, bringing JoJo back and forth to school, and stuff.”
“Mom caught JoJo’s strep throat and had to go to the ER because she couldn’t even swallow.” He stops talking for a second and then clears his voice. “Alls she could do was spit into a rag whenever she needed to swallow.”
Well, that’s definitely TMI, but I get the fucker-nelly revolting picture. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault, dude.”
And then there’s silence.
“Gonna take JoJo to the library after school tomorrow. But first I gotta stop by the cable company and pay up or we’re gonna lose our TV and internet at home. They already warned us like twice.”
“Want me to pick up Yolo at school and take her to the library?” I’m so freaking pissed off at him. Why am I offering to save his ass again?
“That’s cool of you to offer, but there’s a bus she can take to the library from her school. Could ya be waiting for her at the library, in case I get held up?”
“Of course.” I’m a Class A sucker.
“You’re such a cool pal.” Ugh—so not what I’m going for.
“I’m not gonna be at lunch tomorrow seein’ as I’ll probably be collecting my makeup work. So, I’ll see ya at the library. ‘Kay?”
I don’t say kkkk cuz it’s not even slightly cool. “Sure. The libes after school, it is.”
“Thank you, bro,” Jazz offers.
One more silence, and then I say, “Later.”
I have research to do.
About the Author
Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty-two years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.
Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young people and their relationships, and she believes that physical intimacy has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press, Harmony Ink Press, CoolDudes Publishing, and CreateSpace for providing her with alternate places to stash her stories.
Mia is a social liberal and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of human rights, especially marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.