Bianca Reagan: Where the Action Is! Now available!

BIANCA REAGAN: WHERE THE ACTION IS, the sequel to STEVE THE PENGUIN, has been published! It's now available in paperback on Amazon.

For autographed copies, please send requests to mrjmedia [at] gmail [dot] com.

The eBook format is coming soon. More details to come.

I'm so excited and proud! Hooray!


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"Alpha Beta más"

As I have said before, writing is hard. I only have six chapters left to complete in Bianca Reagan: Where the Action Is, but for reasons big and small, they are not yet done.

When talking about my book, one of the chapters I often describe is Ch. 14, "Alpha Beta". The themes discussed by Bianca and Beck reflect issues that I have experienced over the past few years. No, I have never gotten divorced, nor have I dated a married man. Not that I know of, anyway. But I have swum with the sharks in the treacherous waters of the dating pool in Los Angeles, and I escaped metaphorically beaten, bruised and worse for wear.

Since I do not yet have a publication date set for the sequel to Steve the Penguin (available on Amazon!), I don't want to deprive you readers from enjoying what I have already written so far, especially when I am proud of what I would like to share.

Hence, another excerpt from Ch. 14. (It's lengthy, so if you know how to make a click-through page break, please let me know in the comments. Thank you!):

“I liked your story about you and Jean-Luc. It’s inspirational.”

“It’s a fairy tale,” Beck declared with a somber tone. “I got divorced from my first husband, met Jean-Luc, and got remarried. My life tied in a neat bow. I call it my resume gap story. Whenever I tell it, the listeners become beguiled by the meet-cute and the happily-ever-after ending. Their minds skip over the four-year period between nuptials.”

“Why don’t you tell them about those four years?”

Beck lowered her eyes. “I don’t want to sound weak and bitter and depressed.”

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”

She looked up at me. “You know those sayings about relationships, like love will find you, because it will arrive when you’re not looking? Men are like buses: another one will always come around? There are plenty of fish in the sea?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nonsense.” She kept her arms folded across her chest. “For certain people, it is that easy. Suitors fall in their laps, again and again and again.”

“Like a crappy romantic comedy playing on a loop.”

“For the rest of us who aren’t that lucky for whatever reason, it’s horrible. I never thought I’d end up divorced by 31. My ex-husband was a not-half-bad-looking newly single rich guy. He had a string of girlfriends lined up before the ink dried on our papers. I, on the other hand, could not get arrested in this town. On the nights I could find a babysitter, I was going out to clubs, chilling at bars, looking foxy, or so I thought. No men younger than 50 were picking up what I was throwing down. I tried speed dating, and I might as well have been invisible. ”

“That’s sounds disappointing.”

“Summer suggested I try online dating. Some of our friends were doing it and having a blast. They were going out every night of the week. I figured, why not? I signed up for a few reputable sites, the ones who overadvertise their success stories. I waited for the magic to happen.”

“How did that work out for you?”

“I fell further down the rabbit hole of dating, or, more accurately, not dating. At first I thought I was doing something wrong, like my matching settings were turned off, or my profile wasn’t posted, or I had mistakenly described my interests as serial killing, because I wasn’t getting any responses. So I had one of my dating expert friends redo my profile. Still nothing. I’d send out like 15, 20 messages a week. Not a single reply, let alone unsolicited interest from anyone who sounded like they had all their marbles.”

“The crazies are out there.”

“Then I realized what was going on. Success in dating, online or in-person, depended not on who you were, but on the perception of who you were. It was just one big great giant competition for the most desirable players, and I, with my formidable baggage, had not been dealt the most attractive hand for dating in LA. Despite the fact that I was well-educated and independently well-off, I was still a single mom, over 30, with two kids and some junk in the trunk. I looked like a walking statistic for my black and Hispanic communities. I was the package that no one wanted to open, even the guys who had the same traits I did. The single dads, the guys over 30, the Hispanic ones, the black ones, the guys who were way fatter than I could ever imagine, all of them wanted not me. They were looking for someone young, thin, ‘not too ethnic and no drama.’ I saw that all the time on guys’ profiles, as if ‘ethnic’ people come pre-programmed with a drama microchip.”

“My microchip must be on the fritz.”

“After a year of this, I thought, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was just me and my fiery, intimidating, out-of control personality. I couldn’t be the victim of some societal racism/sexism/fat-hating hybrid, could I? It’s the 21st century. Society was different now. Dating was hard for everyone, right?”

I scrunched my face and gave her a shrug.

“To confirm I wasn’t losing my mind, I arranged a get-together at my house with my black woman friends, all two of them, and a couple of their black friends. I asked them what they thought about my dating situation. I discover that it was not just me. Each of them had similar stories of rejection to tell, or worse.” She shuddered. “Much worse. One of my friends showed up to a first date where the guy pulled out a brown paper bag, and it wasn’t for leftovers.”

My body recoiled. “No way.”

“He wanted to make sure she could pass. Which she could, but she was so creeped out, she left before their drinks arrived. The thing that cracked me up in a sad way was when my friend showed me a picture of the dude. His own complexion was more Wesley Snipes than Ice-T.”

“Self-hating.”

“So this dilemma was indeed, at least partially, a color issue. I hadn’t lost my mind. Instead, I lost hope.”

Poor Beck.

“I felt like I was a house for sale, but no one wanted to purchase me. Like every potential homebuyer passed me over, because they thought I was too old or stout, or the wrong color, since they wanted a house painted white. Or Asian.” She clasped her hands. “My depression only grew deeper when I tried to talk about it with some of my friends who weren’t black. They didn’t believe me. They thought I was making a big deal out of nothing. They swore no one ever treated us differently because I was black and they were the right color. Listening to their incomprehension and disbelief and denial of what was happening to me made me physically ill. I felt more alone than ever.”

“If I had known you back then, I would have believed you.”

“Thanks. The whole process was soul-destroying. I stuck it out for another year, during which I was matched for compatibility with literally over 5000 different men, who almost uniformly wanted nothing to do with me. I went on a handful of dates that went nowhere, and came out the other side, emotionally battered, discouraged, questioning my existence. Why had I been chosen to go through this life unloved? I wondered why I was on the planet if no one wanted to be with me. Like I was an alien from another galaxy that had been accidentally left behind by the mothership.”

“E.T.! Or Independence Day.” Or the episode of Are You Afraid of the Dark? with the brother of that Canadian guy who was in X-Men. I kept that last observation to myself.

“Thank goodness I had Huey, Blossom, and Summer to keep my head on straight.”

I had neither children nor a reliable sibling. What was I supposed to do with my lopsided head?

“Gosh, I am being such a downer.” She shook the long brown curls around her head. “Back on track now. I was going to say before that Mike or no Mike, you will find your match, even though you haven’t found him yet.”

“I’m supposed to believe that after your tales of woe?”

“That’s me, not you. I think he’s not ready for you at the moment. He’s still baking in an oven, like the cupcake you ate. Very soon, the timer will go off, and he will emerge fully formed. He knows he couldn’t step to you half-baked. Bianca don’t play that.”

“I do have high standards.”

“I’m not going to let you settle. Been there, done that, got the divorce papers. When you think you’ve found The One, I want to meet him and make sure he’s good enough for you.

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"The 'Bu"

I finished another chapter in Bianca Reagan: Where the Action Is! Six more to go! An excerpt from Ch. 17:

“I have to put my whole hand in the scanner? I thought it was a fingerprint.”

“New company policy. Sign here please.”

“Which of the many forms is this?”

“It releases the company, the testing center, and the test administrators from liability for any injuries you may incur while at the facility. This includes, but is not limited to, falls, sprains, broken bones, eyestrain, seizures, cancer, and/or death, and you are present in the facility and are taking the exam of your own free will.”

I looked at the form. “To apply to business school, I am required to take and pass this four-hour-long exam. It is only administered on flickering computer screens instead of in paper form. And, at 25 miles away, this is the closest facility to my home. To enter and exit the exam room, I have to repeatedly place my hand on a radioactive machine. So yes. I am exposing my body to eyestrain, highway collisions, and cancer by my own free will.” I signed the papers and handed them back to the administrator.

“This way, please.”

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"Luv U, Baby Girl"

I finished another chapter in Bianca Reagan: Where the Action Is! Seven more to go! An excerpt from Ch. 06:

Jenny adjusted each person’s spacing. “Let’s do it!”

We heard the intro of the song. The synthesized melody crept over the background drum machine. Then came the lyrics. Maggie’s part was first.

“I will never break your heart
I promise from the start
Baby girl”

Her moment in the imaginary spotlight was halted by the ringing of my desk phone.

“Who is interrupting the magic?” Maggie demanded.

I picked up the receiver.

“It’s your mother,” I told Stacey. She took the call at my desk.

“She hasn’t moved out of Stacey’s house yet,” Maggie whispered.

The Intern shook his head. “That’s rough.”

Stacey busied her right hand by clicking her retractable pen. “Mami, I am having a very important business discussion . . . Si, that is ‘Luv U, Baby Girl’ . . . How do you know about Five Guys? . . . No, I don’t think that would . . . Why do you want . . . Fine, Mami, fine.” She switched her mother to the speakerphone.

“Hello, Stacey’s friends,” her mother greeted us with her Argentinean lilt.

“Hi, Mrs. Maguire,” we replied.

“Por favor, girls, we’re all family. Call me Mami.”

Stacey gripped her pen so hard it bent in half.

“My baby doesn’t know about Five Guys and my Teddy B like I do,” Mrs. Maguire said. “Sometimes I like to throw my hands in the air, and wave them around like I just don’t care. Turn the music back on.”

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"Dance Party USA"

13 chapters completed in Bianca Reagan: Where the Action Is! Eight more to go! An excerpt from Ch. 07:

“Teddy.” He shook my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

As I held on to Teddy, I daydreamed about telling our children the story of how I met their father. They would have Teddy’s wavy black hair, dark eyes, and musical ability, along with my nose, dimples, and math skills.

I noticed a familiar logo peeking from behind the lapels of Teddy’s blue blazer. “Are you wearing a NOW t-shirt to impress the Shake audience?”

“It couldn’t hurt, but no,” Teddy said. “I have been an official spokesperson for the National Organization of Women since I played at their conference last year. However, I’ve been a feminist since my mother taught me how to talk.”

“That’s impressive.” I poked Mike in the arm. “You should take note.”

The Good Senator inserted, “We are all taking note, which would please my wife. She’s a big, big feminist.”

A big feminist?

“Not big in size,” The Good Senator dug himself in deeper. “Not that there is anything wrong with big sizes.”

Why was he looking at me when he said that?

Benjamin inserted the correct wording. “Alley is a strong supporter of women.”

“She and I both are,” The Good Senator told us. “In fact, Alley and I were at the NOW conference last year, too. Were you there?”

Me? “I’ve never been to one before. I thought the conferences were for important people. I’m not quite a member either.”

“You’re not a member of NOW?” Teddy asked me.

“It’s expensive.” Well, maybe. “Last time I checked it was.”

Teddy pointed to himself. “NOW member.” He pointed to The Good Senator. “NOW member?”

“Proudly,” The Good Senator concurred.

Teddy moved his index finger in my direction. “Not NOW member.”

“Or,” Mike pointed at The Good Senator, then at Teddy. “Good feminist, good feminist.”

“Bad feminist.” Teddy waggled his finger at me.

The Good Senator and Mike shot exaggerated frowns in my direction. Benjamin looked bored.

“I’m a good feminist.” I racked my brain for proof. “I voted?”

“Did you vote for him?” Teddy gestured towards the senator.

“How was I supposed to vote for an Illinois senator when I live in California?”

“You hear the excuses this one has?” Teddy asked the room.

The Good Senator put his arm around Mike’s shoulders. “You really ought to be more careful about the kind of women you run around with.”

Mike grinned. “I’ll try harder next time, sir.”

“Cassandra!” Teddy called across the room as she walked through the doorway.

“Teddy B!” she called back.

“Are you a member of NOW?”

Cassandra strolled over next to Teddy. “Who’s asking? And, yes.”

Teddy turned to pat my back. “I take it we’ll be seeing you at the next meeting.”

Benjamin yawned. “Will this love fest never end?”

“Benji, shush,” The Good Senator said with his arm still around Mike.

Benjamin’s head drooped. He shuffled over to the other side of the room, mumbling to himself, “Don’t call me Benji.”

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"Alpha Beta"

Ten chapters completed in Bianca Reagan: Where The Action Is! An excerpt from Ch. 14:

Our waiter arrived with the National Velvet cupcake I had ordered.

“Cream cheese frosting,” Beck lamented. “To be in my 20s again.”

I dug into my crimson dessert. “In your quest for this extensive knowledge about relationships, have you ever dated a married man?”

Beck held up her index finger. “Once. In my defense, I did not know he was married at the time, because his wife lived in Switzerland. When I did find out, though, I ended it with the quickness. I was too old to be up in that mess.”

I kept eating and listening.

“Granted, I was 22 at the time, but there is no fool like an old fool. I didn’t want to wake up 10 years later, looking back on the energy I had wasted in a man who wasn’t even all that, because I had spent a decade being a fool. So that was done and done.”

All of a sudden, my plate was empty. Time flies when you’re having cake.

“I liked your story about you and Jean-Luc. It’s inspirational.”

“It’s a fairy tale,” Beck declared with a somber tone. “I got divorced from my first husband, met Jean-Luc, and got remarried. My life tied in a neat bow. I call it my resume gap story. Whenever I tell it, the listeners become beguiled by the meet-cute and the happily-ever-after ending. Their minds skip over the four-year period between nuptials.”

“Why don’t you tell them about those four years?”

Beck lowered her eyes. “I don’t want to sound weak and bitter and depressed.”

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m a good listener.”

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"Lunchus Interruptus"

Ten chapters completed in Bianca Reagan: Where The Action Is! An excerpt from Ch. 05:

“What is your role in The Good Senator’s office?” I asked Benjamin.

“Bianca.” He took a chomp of his Philly cheesesteak.

I waited for him to chew and swallow. “Benjamin?”

“I’m The Good Senator’s right hand man.”

“I thought you were Cassandra’s assistant.”

Mike snorted grains of garlic rice out of his nose. Cassandra tried to hide her amusement by looking away from Benjamin and fixating on her meal.

“I don’t like to limit myself with labels. I work with Cassandra, so it’s a team effort, per se. She rocks out the day-to-day stuff. Right, Cassandra?”

“Yup.”

“On the flipside of that coin, I’m more the action guy. Innovation. Synergy. Git ‘er done. That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Hmm,” I packaged the rest of my food in an eco-friendly take-out box for later.

“I’m a forward thinker. In other words, I move the team forward,” Benjamin gesticulated. “Inasmuch as I’m involved with The Good Senator during that point in time, and so forth.”

“Very important work,” Cassandra winked at me.

Benjamin ingested more of his greasy sandwich. “At the end of the day, we make laws.”

We? I didn’t consider myself a C-SPAN enthusiast, but during the few times I had watched what I liked to call The Men’s Wearhouse Security Camera network, I had never seen Benjamin deliberating on the Senate floor.

“I’m taking The Good Senator to a whole ‘nother level.”

“What level would that be?” I asked him. A squeak escaped from Mike, followed by a series of forced coughs from Cassandra to cover her guffaws. Benjamin was too busy building momentum to notice.

“We're going viral. We're taking it to the streets. He’s going to be a national figure on the main stage. I want every family in America talking about Senator Nate Summerfield, make him a household name.”

“Ambitious.”

“Coke. Nate Summerfield.” He drew Venn diagram circles in the air. “Nike. Nate Summerfield. McDonald’s. Nate Summerfield.”

“Just do it,” I said with a straight face. “I’m loving it.”

“We’re shooting to the top, Bianca. President Nate Summerfield.” His pointer finger stabbed the tabletop with each word. “That’s what I’m talking about. Like I always say—”

“So, Bianca,” Cassandra cut in. “Mike tells us that you work at Shake?”

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"Coitus Interruptus"

Eight chapters completed in the sequel to to Steve the Penguin! The tentative title of the second novel is now Bianca Reagan: Where The Action Is. An excerpt from Ch. 03:

SandyBeachGirl99: my nephew's birthday party wasn’t that bad. most of Mormon people were nice.

DannyOcean1112: we usually are

SandyBeachGirl99: it was more the not fitting in with my own family

SandyBeachGirl99: they moved to a new town without telling me

SandyBeachGirl99: not to mention the wedding they had 15 years ago without inviting me

DannyOcean1112: do you really want to play the Compare Families game?

SandyBeachGirl99: you win every time

DannyOcean1112: sister was in the pokey. brother with the gambling addiction. both still on probation, wondering what to do with their little ones at home

DannyOcean1112: now my sister is back on house arrest with the ankle bracelet.

DannyOcean1112: can you beat that?

SandyBeachGirl99: let me think. no.

SandyBeachGirl99: but I still wish I could be closer to my niece, considering she only lives an hour away

DannyOcean1112: you are making an effort. I know your niece appreciates it.

SandyBeachGirl99: I’m taking her and her friend to see a movie next month. the remake of Dance ‘til Dawn

DannyOcean1112: that TV movie from the 80s?

SandyBeachGirl99: yep, but this time it’s on the big screen, starring the usual suspects from every teen show on the primetime lineup. I think we’ll have a good time.

DannyOcean1112: well there you go. you’re the fun aunt

DannyOcean1112: i don’t get to be the fun uncle. i’m the responsible one. i am the one stable role model my nieces and nephews have.

SandyBeachGirl99: I know they appreciate you.

SandyBeachGirl99: hold on. phone call.

SandyBeachGirl99: talk amongst yourself

DannyOcean1112: give me a topic

SandyBeachGirl99: Rhode Island is neither a road, nor an island. Discuss.

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