Moira J. Moore
I started writing my first book when I was fourteen. I was sitting in class, bored out of my mind, and I started writing a story about a girl sitting in class, bored out of her mind. Except her class was in a school of wizardry. That story turned into a book. An awful book that I tried and failed to get published. I'm grateful the internet wasn't a thing back then, because I surely would have put it online and it would be out there forever.
Since then I've continued to write books and continued to put life experiences in them. My frustration with alpha male characters, the extreme weather I experienced while living in Japan, and contract law have all shown up in my fantasy novels.
The first six books in my Heroes series were published by ACE. ACE didn't want to finish the series, so I did, by self-publishing Heroes Reward. I fell so in love with the self-publishing experience that I have no inclination to seek a traditional publisher again.
My most recent book, The CEO Can Drop Dead, is a contemporary novel that portrays common romance tropes as the abusive behaviour that they are. I mean no disrespect to the romance genre as a whole, I don't believe it's any less worthy than any other genre, but the prevalence of abusive behaviour disturbs me, so I wrote a book about it. 25% of my royalties is donated to the Ontario Coalition of Rape Crisis Centres.
“You are trying to lure us into revealing information you're not entitled to? With chocolate and wine? Are you amateurs?”
“So we waited. I felt useless. I felt like I was in the way. I wished I had some nervous habits so I could indulge in them.”
“Sometimes I was so funny I couldn’t stand myself.”
“You're sending my mind to unwelcome places, Taro.Good. It can keep mine company.”
“I couldn't be sure, and I certainly wasn't going to admit it to anyone, but I suspect I was the cause of the blizzard that hit us that night.”
“Taro came into the room, strands of hair flying free of the tie at the back of his skull, sweat plastering his cream-colored shirt against his chest and back. I wished I had an artist's skill, that I could make renderings of him in all his states of beauty. He would never want to look at them, or even know about them. I would just like them for myself. Maybe he would want to see them when he was much older, and beautiful in a different way.”
“You get irritated when I say I'm not angry and you get irritated when I say I am angry. I can't win.""Because you just saying whatever you think will shut me up," he accused me."Aye, but it's not working.""Argh!" was his response, and he charged on down the street.”
“Flown Raven is the country,"I muttered."City slave," he said."Farm boy," I shot back."I've never even seen a farm.""Don't trifle me with details.”
“There was alliteration happening all over the place in that sentence.”