My dad was an excellent hustler. He excelled at getting you to buy random crap you didn’t need, before you even opened your mouth. He taught me how to play pool when I was five. Unfortunately, that skill did not stick. I do love a risk, and will take just about any dare. Hasty to act, without weighing the odds. Falling flat on my face, breaking bones, plunging into fifty degree water for the hell of it. I am an adrenaline junkie like my dad. I take risks. It may not be the most cautious way to live a life, it’s the one I was shown. Leaving home at 18 to follow the yellow brick road of modeling dreams, chopping off my hair because I hated being stuck in a chair with some artist tugging at it for hours (freaking hurts), dyeing it blond, moving to Europe, never looking back. Seemed cool and decadent at the time, I don’t regret seizing the opportunity. I learned a lot of valuable somethings between then and now. I prefer my hair red, I don’t like breaking bones and being stuck in the ER, and modeling is not a great self-esteem builder. Without that crazy, off-color life I’d have little to write about. So I use it all, every single descriptive detail, every moment, every exchange cramming onto the page. I let my protagonists take the risks now, while I sit back and play less pool.
Harrison is a badass with spiked red hair and Georgia Pine rocks long, enviable waves of crimson.
The release of Georgia Pine is only weeks away, I hear she wields a mean stick.