Chapter One

by Michelle M Pillow & Mandy M Roth

Interview with: Ellen Fisher author of Isn’t It Romantic?

When Mandy caught up to Michelle, she was near the large dance floor.  She was sure Michelle would be good and mad at Dmitri’s overbold comments.  She grinned.  Foolish Lycan.  If he thought he was going to get Michelle into bed, he’d have to try harder than that—a lot, lot harder.

            Instead of the tirade she expected, Mandy heard Michelle ask, “Is that Ellen Fisher on the floor with…oh my, is that Kipling Stanton?”

“The Kipling Stanton?  The most gorgeous to-die-for actor in the entire universe, Kipling Stanton?  America’s hottest actor, Kipling Stanton?  Where?” asked Mandy, eagerly trying to crane her neck.  “You had better not be teasing me, Michelle, or so help me….”

“I’m not, they’re right there,” said Michelle, squinting through the rapid movements of the dancing couples.  “Do you see—?”

“No,” cried Mandy, desperately.  She began to climb up onto a chair and Michelle pulled her back. 

“Look, right there,” said Michelle, pointing.  “See Ellen in the red dress?”

 “No,” said Mandy with an excited giggle.  “Where is he?  Do you know how long I’ve daydreamed about him?  Sure, he’s human, but for him I’d make an exception.  Do you know how long it’s been since I had a hu—?”

“Too much sharing,” stated Michelle.

Mandy laughed harder.  “Ellen Fisher?  Didn’t she write Love Remembered?”

“Yeah,” said Michelle.  “We just got her new comedy in last week for  review.  The girls were fighting over it.  I think it’s called Isn’t it Romantic?  I haven’t read it but I’m told it’s a hilarious romantic comedy.”

“How can a girl with so little adventure in life have such an adventurous reading habit?” asked Mandy.  She leaned her head on Michelle’s shoulder and made a move to snap playfully at her jaw while making a mischievous growling noise.

Michelle flinched, pushing Mandy off.  If not for Mandy, she’d be at home curled up in a warm blanket watching an old horror flick.  Mandy laughed harder.  Dryly, Michelle said, “Sex is safer when you have it in books.  And at least they don’t try to eat me right after.”

Mandy’s mouth opened.  Michelle held up her hand and shook her head.

“You dragged me out of the house,” said Michelle, “the least we can do is make a contact for work.  Look, here Ellen comes, let’s see if we can’t get a quick interview lined up for next week’s edition.”

“You get the interview,” purred Mandy, eyeing the famous actor as if he was popsicle and she was suddenly standing on the sun.  He stood over six feet tall, all muscle, with the most lusciously soft shoulder-length hair of dark gold.  If seeing his picture made a girl weak, the real life version could make you nearly swoon.  “I’ll get an autograph.”

As Ellen neared, she began to smile.  A Lycan stumbled drunkenly out from the crowd, nearly knocking her over.  Kipling gently swept her out of harm’s way.  Mandy sighed, loudly and dreamily.  The Lycan lifted his hands and backed off.

“Hey,” called Michelle, “aren’t you…?” 

Kipling looked over nervously, expecting to get mobbed by rabid fans—again.

“…Ellen the author?” finished Michelle.

Ellen turned her attention and smiled.  She walked easily over the dance floor.  Kipling lifted his hand, unconsciously guiding her as she moved.  “Yes.”

“I thought that was you,” said Michelle.  “I’m a writer for the Nocturnal Journal.  We just got your latest release in for review and I recognized you from the bio.  We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for an interview.”

“Oh, that would be great,” said Ellen, smiling.  Her chin length brown hair swung lightly as she moved and her blue eyes shone brilliantly.  Suppressing a chuckle as Mandy practically drooled over her good friend, Ellen said, “I haven’t been in the office as much as I would’ve liked.  Kipling here has been in town for the week visiting, and we’ve been sight seeing.  He leaves to shoot a movie tomorrow.”

Kipling gave a bold grin and bowed his head.  His captivating amber-green eyes glimmered sexily, as if he couldn’t help himself.  Michelle reached and quickly shook his hand.  Mandy smiled dreamily up at him and didn’t let him go so easily.  Kipling frowned at her and sharply drew his hand back, stating he wasn’t interested.  Mandy frowned and made a ‘your loss, buddy’ face.

“We go way back.  Actually he’s been my inspiration for my latest novel,” said Ellen, chuckling at Mandy’s infatuation.  “Well, him, and my friend Cody.  She runs a bookstore for children.”

“Oh, how interesting!”  Michelle exclaimed.  “And are you two dating in real life?”

Before he could answer, a loud song sounded on the jukebox.  Michelle and Ellen both flinched.  Kipling leaned over and whispered into Ellen’s ear.  She nodded at him in return.

“We were just on our way out,” said Ellen.  “It was great to meet you and your…”  Ellen looked around and shrugged, “your friend.”

Thinking of her friend, Michelle noticed it was a little too quiet.  She turned, only to see that Mandy had struck out with Kipling and had turned her attention elsewhere—to a table full of beautiful, albeit pale, creatures.  For some reason she was compelled to glance over to the bar.  Armando stood there with the rude Lycan, Dmitri. 

Armando’s eyes stared pointedly at Mandy’s back.  If she didn’t know better, Michelle would have thought him jealous.  Then, seeing the grey eyes of his wolfish friend on her, she grimaced and quickly looked away.

“Well, you guys have fun!”  Michelle shouted to Ellen, ready to tell Mandy she wanted to go home.  The noise was starting to get to her, not to mention the attention of Dmitri.  “Make sure you contact the office for that interview.”

“Oh, I sure will!  I love your guys’ work!” said Ellen with a big smile.  She threaded her arms into her escort’s and winked. 

Michelle smiled politely.  When she turned to look for Mandy, she saw her friend was no longer at the same table.  Sighing, she looked at the next logical place—the bar.

With a groan, she found Mandy leaning on the bar shooting her teasing glances at Armando.  He smiled back at her and handed her a drink.  Sighing, she went to tell Mandy she’d booked the interview with Ellen.  It would be a great feature for their magazine.

Suddenly, a large chest loomed before her face, blocking her path.  Michelle instantly frowned, trying to artfully slide past without looking at who it was.  When he stepped in front of her, blocking her path again, she uttered in irritation, “Do you mind?”

When she looked up, Michelle grimaced, for before her stood old lover boy, Dmitri.  She should have known.  She’d probably injured his enormous ego when she walked away from him.  Flatly, she grumbled, “Oh, you again?  Isn’t there someplace else you could— do you mind?”

“No, I don’t mind the view at all.  How about a dance?”  Dmitri said, glancing down at Michelle.

She rolled her eyes and looked over at Mandy.  Armando leaned forward and smiled at her friend, saying, “What a good idea.  Would you like to dance?” 

Mandy wrinkled her nose and let out a small laugh.  “Silly, who’d watch the bar while you’re out cutting a rug?”  With that, Mandy gulped the rest of her drink and headed back to the table full of vampires.

Michelle watched as Armando’s brows drew low in irritation.  He was jealous, that was plain to see.  She made a move towards Mandy and was met with Dmitri’s persistence.  “So, how about that dance?”

 “I would rather have hot pokers rammed through my eyes than dance with you.  Now, move!”  Michelle let out a grunt as she pushed the overbearing, sexy lycan out of her path and headed straight for the door.

 A:  I’d be a vampire, assuming I could drink from some species that had Mountain Dew running through its veins.  A girl can’t get enough Mountain Dew in this life, and a free source would be a terrific thing to have, particularly if the neck involved were masculine.

 Oh, you mean a vampire that drinks blood?  Well, ick… who wants to drink THAT?

Q: How do you come up with character names?

A:  “Balance” is not a good description of what I do.  I tend to ignore my writing until my characters are beating at the inside of my skull, begging to get out.  I then throw myself at the computer in a frantic fit and write maniacally while neglecting the cleaning, the cooking, the kids, and the husband.  When I finally wrap the story up, I then go back to ignoring the computer for as long as humanly possible.

 “Balance” is a nice word.  But alas, “split personality” would probably be more accurate.

Q:  Why do you like writing romance/erotica?

A:  It’s fun.  There is always a happy ending.  In real life there aren’t always happy endings, and you can’t always control what happens, but as a writer you have power.  It’s not unlike being the deity of a teeny little universe.  The scary thing is that my characters sometimes seem to have free will—they occasionally take the plot and bend it in an entirely different direction than I had intended.  But I don’t mind, because they seem to know what they’re doing.

 Which is pretty scary, now that I think about it!

 Q:  What would you do if you weren’t a writer?

 A:  I’d be incredibly boring.  Been there, done that, and I can assure you, I was in fact incredibly boring.  Before I was a writer (well, before I was a serious writer; I’ve always dabbled in writing) I was an insurance underwriter.  I worked in the insurance industry for five years, and spent my extra time during those years earning my professional designation so I could park the initials CPCU (Chartered Property Casualty Underwriter) after my name.  A glamorous, exciting occupation for a globetrotting executive type, you might think.  Well, no.  Actually what I did was sit at my desk eight hours a day and field phone calls from whiny agents (“I sent this yesterday… are you SURE you haven’t gotten it yet?”).  On the up side, at least I got PAID for dealing with the whining.  As a stay-at-home mom I now have to cope with whining children without getting paid for it, which doesn’t seem quite fair.

 Life as a writer isn’t exactly glamorous either, but when the story I’m working on finally starts to come together it IS exciting.  And when one of my characters whines I can always write him out of the story in an unpleasant, nasty fashion.  My characters have learned not to mess with me!

Q:  What is your favorite color M&M?