This quarantine was screwing with my mind. Frankly, mind-fucked was the only kind of fucking I’ve had in over three months. If someone had told me that a two-story, four-bedroom house could feel claustrophobic, I wouldn’t have believed them. I was sure as hell a believer now. I knew I’d hit the bottom of boredom when I cleaned, labeled, and put canisters in my refrigerator and my walk-in pantry. It had taken two days, but I hadn’t felt that accomplished in a month.

   Usually, the end of a school year brought me more joy than I could put into words, but it was 2020, and nothing was normal or usual anymore. When the buzz of a pandemic started swirling around, I was on what would become my last vacation. I don’t think I would’ve turned down a casual hook-up with Keith before heading to the airport if I knew then what I know now. Keith and I had no potential as a couple. I suppose we both knew it and it was why he’d ended it. It was more like losing a good friend, who offered consistent and reliable sex. It was hardly burning the room down with passion with us though. I didn’t typically have regrets, but I was at the stage in quarantine where I ceased being good-natured about the whole damn thing, and I was ultimately one hundred percent wrapped up in self-pity and regret.

   The stink of pity didn’t look or smell good on anyone though. So, I needed to get out, and I needed to get laid. Unfortunately, I was living in the Mayberry of Japan. Mayberry may have been fictional, but every time I went onto the base to pick up my mail or go to the commissary, I expected to see Barney, Opie, Andy, or Aunt Bee around every corner.

   It’s been months since I’ve been able to travel. I had no grounds for complaints though, not really. Everyone in the world was in the same position, so there’s nothing that made my situation special, nothing except my boredom, my singlehood, and my overactive libido.

   I’d been living in Japan for almost two years when the world got thrown off its axis. At the start, I kept telling myself that this would pass. Enjoy the extra time off, I told myself. Three months off early from school, and I would likely be back stateside by mid-summer. Mid-summer was about when I started climbing the walls mentally.

   My sister didn’t believe that the same dating apps that worked at home worked here in Japan. Hell, there was even a group on FetLife of locals into kink. This new website was bananas, though. Folks would capitalize off anything, including a global pandemic. I couldn’t wait until the site caught fire and there was a news story about it. I could hear the creator now. 

   “I was lonely and depressed and just wanted someone who could help me get through it all. The other sites always have folks focused on the future, but I knew I wanted something focused on right now. The idea came to me as I made myself cum. Poetic, right?”

   If I was looking for something serious, I could find it. If I was looking for a kink, I could find it. And, if I was looking to get my ass pounded into the mattress, I could find it. I constantly reminded my students that Google couldn’t be trusted for accurate information on everything, but secretly I knew I was lying to them. You could literally Google and find anything. Periodically I would send my sister snapshots of the more colorful posts and profiles just to prove I was right.

Hey, J.M., thanks for joining me for today’s Author Q and A.
Okay, Let’s jump right into it!
You have written so many books and novellas up to this point. Thinking back to your very first, what inspired you to write?
 
   I’ve written all my life, since I was eight and had creative writing in school. I wrote the worst poem known to the literary world, but later won an award for stories. Yet the moment I knew I didn’t want to do anything else was when I was thirteen and I read Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs. I gotten into Kesey, Kerouac, Ginsberg and the Beat Writers/Poets. I read Naked Lunch a 1950s junkie novel, the frenetic energy, the rawness and all, I said I wanted to write that.
   It resonated with my brain, it was around that time that I started dealing with Mental Illness. It made me not feel so weird and that probably makes me weird. I never anticipated writing romance, but my Body Positivity philosophy made me want to write romance for all body types, shapes and sizes. Readers seeing themselves in my books is what keeps me going, while I write my weirdness in the background.
 
I never read a story about a trans character before, at least not as a main character, what inspired you to make that choice?
 
   Transgender Men are shown in MM Romance, but what I saw of Transwomen in the romance genre were a lot of stereotypical fetishization stories. I’m not saying that’s all you can find in Trans Romance, but a good portion of it is. I wanted to write stories that put Trans Women in the starring roles where they can get those HEAs their cisgender sisters get so easily. The news and statistics show that Transwomen are vulnerable to violence. So for me, showing my Trans Sisters finding their happily ever after’s in a respectful and positive way was natural for me. It goes with my Body Positive/Diverse beliefs. Every Body is Worthy of Love and Respect.
 
Can you share briefly what your writing process is like?
   Writing for me is a part of my routine. I do forty-five minute sprints throughout the day. Sometimes writing up to ten hours a day. Strict schedules work well for me when writing and I rarely give myself a deadline only because I tend to work on several projects at once and publish whatever is finished first.
  
Do you have any advice for first time novelists?  
 
   This might be controversial advice, but right what you love and avoid the trends. I find that once you start writing to market you’re locked into that by readers. To me I believe readers can tell when you’re forcing a story you’re not feeling. Being different isn’t easy, it’s a lot of taking hits to your pride, but in the end I’d prefer to write something unique every time than write the same book on repeat. Trends come and go, what’s popular today might be totally ignored tomorrow. So, as I said, write what you love. Write your passion.
 
Ok, ok enough of all the serious stuff. What’s your favorite color?
   Blue.
 
Outside of romance, what is your favorite genre to read?
   To be honest, and I’ll probably hear the collective gasps, but I don’t read a lot of romance. I write the romance I want to read. I’m typically Urban Fantasy, Horror or Nonfiction. My weakness for political science is ridiculous.
 
If Claiming Whisper was an ice cream flavor which would it be?
   Something coffee flavored.
 
What was your proudest moment when you were 5 years old?
   I barely remember what I did yesterday much less when I was five. So I have no idea.
 
If you had a super power, what would it be?
   Not having to sleep. At this point in history, sleep should be voluntary.
 
Where would you visit that you haven’t already gone?
   There’s a ton of places I wanted to visit, but I think the one I want to see the most is Ireland.
 
What pizza topping do you hate?
   Green peppers and Onions, pizza or not, they’re not my favorite.
 
Alright now, one last question before we wrap it up. Are you working on anything that my friends and I can look forward to?
   I have so many stories in the works under J.M. Dabney and my alter ego, Siobhan Smile. I’m back in my Powers Universe, Masiello Brothers, and Yuri Sorenson Mysteries with J.M. Dabney. Siobhan has some Daddy/Mommy stories along with some Domestic Discipline stories coming. There’s so much I can’t really say what’s coming out next.
 
Thanks so much, J.M., for taking the time to answer a few of my questions! And to all of my friends out there, be sure to check back for more Author Q and A sessions in Cozy Carter Chats!

  “Asa Watkins, say yes already. You know I’m going to wear you down. I always do.”

  Bess was the only person in my life who started phone conversations like we were already in the middle of them. It was like she always started without you and expected you to catch up.

  “I don’t have time, Bess. I already explained this to Mama when she called half an hour ago. Which, for the record, was a cheap stunt. The two of you do not have me figured out so easily.”

  My mouth said I didn’t have time, but I knew she was right. Bess, my best friend since the age of five, knew me like a book, and she also knew I couldn’t refuse her. We’ve done the good, the bad, and the outlandish together, and no matter my level of initial resistance, I eventually give in every time.

  “It’s a couple of nights a week for like two weeks. You already know the songs; we just have to see what spin Maurice is going to put on it.”

  “Is he really still tinkering with the arrangements on the music we’ve all done a million times? That man is the only choir director I’ve known who can’t ever leave things straight forward.”

  She knew I already turned down my mama’s request to come back and sing in Bishop Chambers’ anniversary choir. This was their way, though. Mama used guilt, and when that didn’t work, Bess would bully me and pull the best friend card. What kind of chance did I stand? 

  I was never in a hurry to return to the fire and brimstone environment that man created. Right and wrong were extremely black and white in the Bishop’s eyes, and he made sure everyone knew that his eyes and what they saw were all that mattered. I could probably get through it, but I didn’t want to. The best part about being forty-five minutes from home for college was that I could get there quickly in an emergency, but could feign exhaustion and distance when I didn’t really want to be bothered.

  “Are you listening to me?” Bess was using her ‘do not ignore me’ voice.

  “I’m here and all ears.”

  “Now, you know Bishop doesn’t work on his anniversary Sunday, so he’s bringing in a guest preacher.”

  “So? I don’t want to hear any of them spell out why I’m going to hell, either.”

  “Oh, you’ll like this one. It’s Malik Creswell.”

  Oh, my Lord. Did she say Malik Creswell? From Mercy High School? He’d been a young guidance counselor during our freshman and sophomore years, and the basketball coach.

  “Yes, that Malik, and you already know that.”

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  Bess was full belly laughing at this point. For a best friend, my discomfort often amused her greatly. 

  “Asa, I’ve been able to read your thoughts for years, and when it comes to Malik, it’s not even a fair fight.”

  Straddling the arm of my couch was getting uncomfortable, and I had too many questions. I slid off and onto the corner cushion to begin my interrogation.

  “Why would Bishop ask Malik? He’s the anti-Bishop. Modern, forward-thinking, openly gay, and I’m willing to bet he’s not saving himself for marriage.”

  “I sure hope not. When you two finally figure it out and hook up, somebody has to bring experience to the table.”

  “You act like I’m a virgin.”

  “Oh, please. Missy Holbrook does not count in this situation, or any situation. She was showing her panties to boys for a Jolly Rancher in the second grade. You started driving before any of us, so I’m not surprised she put out for a ride. And don’t get me started on Lance. That lying closet case. Talking about, he kissed you on a bet. Whatever, we are way off-topic. I will send you the rehearsal schedule. Pick out something nice to wear. You have two weeks. I love you and don’t even think about weaseling out of this, or I’ll call your mama back on you.”

  I listened to silence for a full minute before I realized she’d ended the call.