Writing the “BIO”…aka “It’s All About ME, ME ME!”

Write a bio, they say. A fun one and a professional one.

Oh sure. Nothing I like better than talking about myself. Oh wait, isn’t that what I do here? Well, yes and no. I talk about other things here, and it’s NOT all about me. Do you know how HARD it is to talk about yourself?

It’s some kind of perverse torture my publisher has come up with to torment me.

Okay, so maybe the fun one WAS fun to write. Here it is:

In April of 2003 Ellora’s Cave foolishly offered me a contract for my first erotic romance and I haven’t shut up since. My writing is an addiction for which there is no cure, a disease in which strange characters live in my mind, all clamoring for their own story. I try to let them out one by one, as mixing snarling werewolves with a bondage and discipline master can be very dangerous territory. Then again, unusual plotlines offer relief from the demons plaguing me.

In my world, well-endowed, naked cabana boys do the vacuuming and dishes, little faeries flit about dusting the furniture and doing laundry, Wolfgang Puck fixes my dinner and I spend every night engaged in wild sexual abandon with a hunky alpha. Okay, the hunky alpha part is my real life husband and he keeps my fantasy life enriched with extensive ‘research’. But Wolfgang won’t answer my calls, the faeries are on strike and my readers keep running off with the cabana boys.

I won’t bother posting the professional one. Would hate for all of you to end up head down in your keyboards, waking with QWERTY marks plastered to your cheek *g*