I read a Dear Abby letter that hit close to home for me as a writer. For the record, I don’t always subscribe to her advice (nor that of the self-proclaimed Goddess of Love, Amy Alcorn), but this one letter made me think “Been there, dealt with that.”

It was from a woman who writes romance novels as a hobby and side business. (Hmm, sounding familiar yet? Read on). She pointed out that she’s happily married to the man of her dreams. It seems that her husband becomes sullen and irritated after reading depictions of the men in her stories, believing that they’re based on an actual person or former boyfriend, even though she insists that they aren’t.

Dearest Abby’s advice was that if the man of her dreams couldn’t accept her explanation, he should stop reading her books. Gee, why didn’t I think of that?

This brought back a few flashbacks for me, and possibly for some of you. Like many of us, I have recited the “This is a work of fiction…” speech so many times I don’t have to be fully awake to launch into it. Some people ignore the disclaimer we all put after the title page, and that’s the danger of your friends and family reading your books. They become convinced that you used a mutual acquaintance or relative as the basis for a character. I don’t mind answering that question, but when they ask if any of the intimate scenes were based on personal experience, I merely smile and keep my mouth shut.

I’ve gotten so cautious that in one of my crime thrillers, I went one better. The publisher included the usual warning, but I added one of my own. I stated that while the location of the story was real, the characters, places and events I depicted were not intended to resemble an actual person or occurrence. I had a good reason for taking this extra step: the story had my hero going up against the Mafia. I didn’t want to answer my door in the middle of the night and find two guys inviting me to go for a ride.

The Dear Abby letter reminded me of an anecdote I read about Ian Fleming. His James Bond adventures were very popular in the 1950’s but apparently, his wife was a literary snob who didn’t think much of her husband’s work. She was quoted as saying “I wouldn’t soil my hands with that filthy rubbish.” This likely explains why Fleming had a mistress. I have a friend who has been successful with his erotic fiction, but his wife also refuses to acknowledge or talk about it, even though it supplements his retirement income.

This brings up the deathtrap we all have to cope with regarding content. There is currently no formal rating system for books like there is for movies, music, TV shows, and video games. As writers, we should be responsible enough to alert readers if our books contain adult material. This is not only considerate, it’s good business. I don’t want to lose potential customers because one reader became offended and told their friends not to buy my stuff because I write “dirty books.” I have also tempered my sales pitches at book signings when I’m approached by younger readers.

I’ve been fortunate that I’ve never had to answer the dreaded question about character similarities from anyone I’ve been romantically involved with. They’ve all read my books and while they may have picked up on a personality trait or physical characteristic, I’ve not been asked if they were inspired by someone real. If the question had come up, I would’ve been honest —“Why no, of course not, honey! You know what an active imagination writers have.” If that didn’t work, I suppose I could always fall back on poetic license and hope for the best.

It reminds me of the feud between Mario Puzo and Frank Sinatra over “The Godfather.” It was widely assumed that the character of Johnny Fontaine, a mobbed-up pop singer, was based on Sinatra’s life and career. Naturally Puzo denied it, saying it was a composite of several entertainers, but Sinatra refused to believe it. (And I thought I was overly sensitive!) The whole thing might have died down had it not been for Sinatra’s pal, Dean Martin. When asked about it during an interview, Martin gave a wink, a smile and said “One never knows, does one?”

Fiction writers endure a lot of grief from our friends and family members about characters. We all claim that they’re completely fictional but inevitably, some joker will read one of our stories, corner us someplace, then insist with a lascivious grin “That was really based on so-and-so, wasn’t it? Come on, you can tell me! It’ll be our little secret.”

I’m sorry to burst their balloon, but my characters are not—repeat, not!—based entirely on people I know. I usually take bits and pieces from different acquaintances or people I encounter, then use them to form a whole person. It’s sort of like following a recipe—take one physical attribute, mix in a unique hairstyle or color, add a dash of cute smile, a smidgen of speech pattern or a catchphrase, an eye-catching style of dress, blend them all together, and voila!—you have a character.

I know writers who will compose complete biographies and backstories before they even write the first line. One of them is a good friend who writes cozy mysteries. She works out all the details in advance—age, body type (including height, build, hair and eye color), glasses or contacts, how they walk, clothing preferences, speech patterns, occupation, and background. She relies on this to help build a realistic character, and it’s effective.

One writer sent me a list that they complete when creating a character. It included the things I mentioned above, plus these other details: Do they live alone or with others? What is that relationship like? Do they have children? What are they like? Does the person own a home or live in an apartment? How is it furnished? Tidy or sloppy? How often do they change their clothes? What is their favorite and least-favorite food? What kind of music do they like?

There are a total of 20 questions she answers in detail before starting the story. Many of them resemble those asked by an online dating service. Granted, this guarantees a well-defined character, but if you did this for every person in your story, and you have a large cast of supporting players, this could consume a lot of time.

I discovered early on that part of the joy of reading a good story was populating the cast with my favorite actors and actresses. Reading a Phillip Marlowe or Mike Hammer adventure when I was in high school was more enjoyable when I envisioned people like Bogart, Ladd, Bacall or Stanwyck essaying the lead characters. After watching the Sherlock Holmes movie series from the 1940s, I can’t read one of Doyle’s stories without Basil Rathbone coming to mind.

When I first started writing fiction, an editor gave me some valuable advice—when you introduce a character, include a brief physical description. This turned out to be something I do with every character I conceive. Even if they don’t have much to do and will be gone by the end of the chapter, I usually have something in mind. It can be detailed, or something as simple as “He sported several days’ growth of beard, and his potbelly hung over the waist of his soiled khaki cargo shorts.”

The scenes I write all play out like movies on a giant screen in my mind. When I settle on a plot, I’ve usually assembled my dream cast of favorites to play the parts. Sometimes, this comes in handy when writing physical descriptions, but it wasn’t something I always did on a regular basis. In one of my early romantic comedies, “Anywhere the Heart Goes,” the female lead kept reminding me of someone the more I wrote. I finally realized that I had to settle on who it was, and it came to me. What I had created was a clone of one of my favorite TV actresses. That made it easier for me to describe her moving forward.

The balancing act is to provide just enough detail to give the reader a visual cue, without spoiling their fun. There’s a story about Ian Fleming, the creator of James Bond. He was alive to see the first two Bond movies being filmed in the early 1960s, and was still writing new 007 adventures. Fleming visited the set of “Dr. No,” and became entranced by actress Ursula Andress, who played the first Bond girl, Honey Ryder. So enamored was Fleming that in his work-in-progress, he referred to a female character as looking “just like Ursula Andress.”

Talk about a spoiler alert! In one sentence, he destroyed my own concept of what the woman looked like, and replaced her with his personal dream girl. My imaginary goddess might have been Diana Rigg or Raquel Welch for all I remember, but it definitely wasn’t Ursula Andress.

I hate to rain on the parade, but here’s the cold sobering truth: you can include all kinds of details in your characters, the setting, the atmosphere, and the action, but sadly, most people won’t pay close attention or remember it. When it comes to reading, we’ve become a society of skimmers with short attention spans. To prove my point, here’s a personal experience.

One of my mystery/thrillers contained a big fight scene at the climax between the hero and the primary bad guy. It was like something you’d see in a Marvel or James Bond adventure. I visualized it in my mind, playing out on that mental movie screen I mentioned, and I worked very hard to convey it in words. It took me a long time, because I fussed over every word and bit of action to make it realistic. A friend of mine read the book, complimented me on that particular scene, then deflated my balloon with the following statement.

“I’ll bet it took you a long time to write that, but it only took me about a couple of minutes to read it.”

Sometimes, I can’t win for losing.

I keep running across interesting quotes that make me think. I suppose that’s the idea behind them, to get your brain working and provoke meaningful conversation. Our local newspaper publishes these under the title Thought for Today. Here’s a recent one, credited to Dame Edith Sitwell, English poet (1887-1964).

“Good taste is the worst vice ever invented.”

I read this in the morning and was distracted for the rest of the day, because I wasn’t sure how to take it. What did Dame Edith mean? I always thought good taste was a preferred quality in a person. It’s certainly better than bad taste, which we seem to be experiencing in abundance these days. For an example of what I’m talking about, check out social media and cable news networks.

A weekly column I follow touched on a subject I’ve blogged about before. The columnist had seen the newest reboot of “A Star is Born,” and penned an open letter to Hollywood screenwriters, suggesting that they could effectively tell a love story without dropping so many “F” bombs. I haven’t seen the movie, but I could relate to what he said. I’ve made the same observation about literary works, and I’ve never been a fan of radio Shock Jocks or some stand-up comics for that reason. Several years ago, there was a terrific film called “American Hustle.” The fact-based story was interesting, but I was distracted by the language. In fact, this was the first film I had seen that received an R rating because of the ‘F” bombs that seemed to fall with every other line of dialogue.

Is peppering your daily discourse with four-letter words an example of bad taste? I was raised to think it is. So is telling dirty jokes in mixed company, unless you’re with friends who won’t be offended. During my job as a newspaper editor, the publisher felt it was his daily duty to berate the office staff, using every variation of the “F” word imaginable. He even came up with some new uses for it. When my birthday rolled around, it was the first time I had ever gotten “Happy f****** Birthday!” as a greeting.

To be clear, I’m no prude. I know most of the bad words, but I exercise caution when I use them. The same with off-color jokes. As the late Milton Berle once said, “I’ve got a million of ‘em.” I’m not sure if I know that many, but when I tell them, I check the crowd first.

I’ve found it’s prudent to read the room before stating an opinion or starting an in-depth conversation about anything topical. This habit really came in handy over the past couple of years, thanks to something called a presidential election. I spend a good deal of time visiting friends in a small suburban community nearby. The folks who live there are very conservative and I’m not. A close friend, who leans the same direction as me, cautioned me about the local political climate when we began hanging out. As soon as I hit town, I put my opinions in storage until I leave.

I’ve known people who were obsessed with showing what good taste they thought they had, whether they actually possessed it or not. This includes an ex-wife and a former sister-in-law. In every instance, it boiled down to how many material things they owned, and how they could let everyone know about it. Cars, clothes, jewelry, homes, vacations they couldn’t afford—it was all for show, something to make up for a basic insecurity. It was a spotlight they shone on themselves, a sort of “Hey, look at me! Like the flashy bracelet I’m wearing? Want to know how much it cost?”

You know, I think I’ve figured out what Dame Edith meant by that quote. Perhaps if you’re fabricating good taste to cover up your inherent bad taste, it really is the worst vice ever invented.

Your thoughts?

I’ve heard the term “facing the music” for years and never gave it much thought. My research revealed that it means “To accept the unpleasant consequences of one’s actions.” The phrase has been used by writers to the point where it’s become a cliché. Irving Berlin even wrote a popular song called “Let’s Face the Music and Dance.” Why he thought dancing was the best way to atone for your sins is a mystery to me, but Fred Astaire choreographed it beautifully in a movie.

It is thought to have originated in mid-19th century America, and came from the tradition of a soldier being “drummed out” of their regiment. Another popular theory refers to actors taking the stage facing the orchestra pit (i.e. facing the music). Still another theory claims roots in British culture, where common peasants had to sit in the west end of a church, facing the higher status folks in the east wing when singing hymns.

I have long been influenced by music in all phases of life. I studied it in college, taught it for a few years, and even had a brief professional fling as a jazz trumpet player and singer. When I hear a particular song, it often brings back a memory. Some are good, some not so pleasant, but they comprise the soundtrack to my life.

When I hear Sinatra lament “I’m a Fool to Want You,” I find myself remembering someone from the past. Elton John’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” will forever be associated with a sensuous turn on the dance floor many years ago. I’ve never been one who laid claim to a melody and claimed it as “our song,” but I used to joke that Marvin Hamlisch had me in mind when he wrote the James Bond tune “Nobody Does it Better.”

I’ve brought this love of music into my writing by working it into a scene to enhance the atmosphere. You will often read references to some of the piano jazz masters in the Nick Seven series, and the reason is simple. I like that kind of music, therefore my leading character does, too. I’ve dropped in little bits like “Nick scrolled through pages on the computer while the soothing sounds of Oscar Peterson’s piano jazz played in the background.” In my mystery “The Other Woman,” the action takes place around Christmas, so naturally I had to include holiday music to set the mood.

I actually did use the song-as-a-memory thing in one of the Nick Seven spy thrillers. He requests a certain song to be played by the jazz trio at his club, and when Felicia asks him why he chose it, he reminds her that it was being played the first time they went on a date several years earlier. It forged a prominent place in his memory, and was forever associated with that special night. Yes, I know that’s straight out of “Casablanca,” but at least he didn’t request “As Time Goes By.”

I’ve also used my knowledge of the music business as fictional fodder. One of my recent thrillers, “The Neon Jungle,” tackles the dark underside of the entertainment industry in Miami. The person Nick Seven is helping is a popular local musician trying to get out from under the control of a supposedly legit music mogul who is using his business as a cover for criminal activity. Do these things actually happen? Maybe, maybe not. Is any of it based on my personal observations and experiences? I’ll rely on the disclaimer at the front of the book.

This story gave me the chance to include song references within the plot, and some of them were used to enhance the action. A character longing for the gal that got away? I trotted out the ballad “Here’s That Rainy Day” to emphasize what he was feeling. When it was time for the happy-for-now ending, “Never Gonna Let You Go” is featured. When I was writing the action sequences, I loaded the stereo with CDs by Buddy Rich and Henry Mancini to help me set the mood and pace. If only I could transfer those tracks to the book.

Times and tastes change with each generation. There’s a scene in the comedy “10,” where Dudley Moore played a successful middle-aged songwriter lusting after a much younger Bo Derek. At one point, he’s lamenting to a bartender about changing musical tastes. He says “One day, a couple will be listening to a band and the woman will say ‘Honey, they’re playing our song!’ And the band will be playing ‘Why Don’t We Do It in the Road’.”

We’ll always have Bogart, Bergman and Paris.

“The things you regret are the risks you don’t take.”

I wish I could claim credit for that bit of wisdom but the truth is, I heard it in the movie “Grumpy Old Men.” It was spoken by Ann-Margaret to Jack Lemmon about relationships, and it seemed like good advice.

As writers, we’re obligated to take chances and push boundaries. Some of us pushed our limits simply by finishing that first book and getting it published. That’s not as easy as some people seem to think. It requires a lot of commitment and hard work, and that’s just the creative part. Once you decide to make writing a career, you really have to push your personal limits with regards to promotion and marketing. Some of us also push the limits of our bank accounts.

I like to try new things with my writing. I become bored easily and if I don’t flex my creative muscles, that malaise will find its way into my stories. It also keeps readers on their toes. I’m really happy when I come up with a unique “Gotcha!” that catches people off-guard.

With one of my early books, “The Vendetta Factor” (Nick Seven series), I went retro by using chapter titles. Since it was a pulp fiction-style crime thriller, it seemed like a good fit. One of my romantic comedies, “Anywhere the Heart Goes,” took the title thing one step further. I began each chapter with a quote about love and relationships, to set the mood. Some of them were funny, while others were poignant.

When I wrote the Vic Fallon private eye mystery “Lido Key,” I pushed my limits with the sexual content. I made the female lead bisexual, enjoying a relationship with her cute Latina housekeeper, and both of them are attracted to the hero. Naturally that scenario called for a threesome in a hot tub. In looking back at that book, it’s probably the sleaziest story concept I ever came up with. Not only is the heroine a switch hitter, she’s a former lap dancer turned rich trophy widow. She needs the help of my hero because she visited a swinger’s club and is now being blackmailed. During his investigation, he encounters a nasty strip club owner and a famous writer with a taste for booze and women. As I said, a sleazy concept with a cast of characters to match. I think Mickey Spillane would’ve been proud.

Speaking of characters, that’s another way I push limits. I like creating personalities that are unique and off-the-wall. I constantly study people and make note of their fashion statements, physical characteristics and speech patterns. I don’t limit people watching to those I see every day, but will often pick up on something an actor did and make a mental note. This habit has gotten me into trouble on occasion, when someone I know becomes convinced that I based a character on them. This is patently false, because my characters are composites. What people want to think beyond that is up to them.

I really like to see how many fireworks I can set off when I give interviews. I have a lot of fun when I can be outrageous with my responses, whether it’s print, podcast or TV. It plays into something I learned a long time ago—any publicity can be good if it gets people talking about you. As proof, search the name Kardashian and see what pops up. One print interview I did nearly cost me an invitation to a family reunion, though, because a relative was embarrassed by my answers to certain questions. They dealt with my opinions of sexual fetishes, some of which were unconventional, and I felt obliged to give honest responses.

The biggest limit pusher for me resulted in my becoming a published author in the first place. I had recently gotten out of a bad marriage, I was at loose ends and restless, and I recalled an idea for a story I had always wanted to write. I challenged myself to either write the damn thing or stop talking about it. The result was the first entry in my popular Nick Seven spy series, “Memories Die Last,” which continues to sell many years later and has cultivated a nice fan base.

The second-biggest was my decision to use my own name to publish contemporary erotic romance with explicit sex. That was nearly 20 years ago, and there have been many occasions when I felt I should have ignored Ann-Margaret’s advice. Sometimes I think this was one risk I definitely regretted taking.

There has been a lot of discussion lately about how things have changed in the past year because of the pandemic. I’ve gotten weary of reading analyses, op-eds and social media ramblings about what could have or should have been done. It reminded me of something my dear old dad used to say—it’s easy to quarterback the game from the bench.

It occurred to me that what we really need right now is more romance and sex in our daily entertainment, especially in the movies. In the past 15 or so years, the romantic comedy and the sex movie have pretty much disappeared. I’m not talking about online porn flicks, but intelligently-written mainstream films aimed at adults that combined romance, sex, and laughs.

Do you remember “You’ve Got Mail,” “Bridesmaids,” “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” and “When Harry Met Sally”? These were cute romantic sex comedies that weren’t crude, controversial, or obnoxious. They contained humor that people over 21 could appreciate, combined with the realistic ups and downs of contemporary relationships. There was enough sexual inuendo to make things interesting, along with romantic tension and the burning question “Will they or won’t they?” Buried somewhere in the script was a message about what it takes to make a relationship work, but they didn’t beat you over the head with it.

Go back about 50-60 years for even better examples. The sexual revolution in the 1960s gave us sophisticated bedroom comedies like “Pillow Talk,” “Lover Come Back,” “Move Over, Darling” and “Who Was That Lady?” The plots usually revolved around a guy with seduction on the brain chasing a beautiful woman, with some zany plan to get her between the sheets. Adult situations and sexually-charged dialogue abounded, as much as the censors would allow. Luckily, we had charming actors like Rock Hudson, Doris Day, James Garner and Tony Curtis who could pull it off with a wink and a smile, without being offensive.

Most television offerings lately have shied away from this concept as well. Older romantic comedies like “Moonlighting,” “Cheers,” and “Who’s the Boss?” contained enough sexual tension to keep you tuning in every week to find out what happened between the lead characters. While their humor appealed to everyone, these shows were geared more toward grown-ups, as opposed to family fare like “Full House.” An earlier example of a sophisticated romantic comedy is “The Dick Van Dyke Show” (1960-65). The happy couple may have had separate beds because the censors dictated it, but there was definitely something going on after lights out.

What do we have to take the place of these witty bedroom comedies today? Action-packed shoot-‘em-ups that mandate one car chase and one gunfight or explosion per hour. Reality shows with preposterous concepts vie for our attention, along with intense dramas like “Downton Abbey,” “Breaking Bad,” and “The Walking Dead.” Some current network sitcoms may include romance, but there isn’t much in the way of teasing. It’s interesting that recent cable hits with the most sexual content have been set in historical or fantasy worlds, like “Game of Thrones” and “Outlander.”

Romantic sex comedies at the multiplexes have been pushed aside in favor of loud, splashy spectacles featuring buff superheroes and explosive action. Regarding the modern blockbuster, film writer R.S. Benedict noted “Everyone is beautiful and yet, no one is horny.” I used to enjoy films like those when they weren’t so commonplace, and seeing one was like a major event. There was something magical about watching them on a big screen with surround sound. That was a special experience you couldn’t get at home.

Luckily for everyone, romance and sex are alive and well in books, including those written by the talented contributors to this blog. During the past year, e-book and audio book sales increased 51%. The same study that produced that stat also noted that divorce was down 22%. That surprised me, because with all that forced up-close-and-personal time, I’d have thought it would be higher, not lower.

Perhaps those couples read our books or watched a few romantic sex movies and took notes.

Recently, my good friend Lisabet Sarai posted a testimonial about the late Larry Flynt, publisher of Hustler magazine. This reminded me of a similar piece I wrote several years ago about the passing of Hugh Hefner. I was working as a freelance writer for an alternative newspaper at the time, and was assigned to write an op/ed about whether Hefner made a significant impact on modern culture. Many people labeled him as a flesh peddler who exploited women and promoted sexual freedom, but his legacy goes much deeper than that.

The question before the board isn’t whether or not Hugh Hefner objectified women. I won’t dispute that, because his signature magazine and its spinoffs showcased the female physique, with and without airbrushing. He introduced the word centerfold to the lexicon, and exemplified a sophisticated Libertarian lifestyle. But he also promoted open dialogue on a wide variety of subjects that would become a part of the American fabric.

Many people overlook the fact that Hefner took chances and pushed the boundaries of what was considered “the norm” in conservative America beginning in the 1950s. With Playboy magazine, he made a point to feature not only attractive women, but thought-provoking ideas and cutting- edge fiction from some of our best writers. He also pushed the civil rights agenda and tolerance in an era when those weren’t popular notions. He continued that push into the new millennium when he supported same-sex marriages and transgender rights. Hefner claimed to be politically independent, and his editorial stance rarely favored one side over the other.

Hefner was color- and gender-blind when it came to his magazine’s contributors, and he chose to put talent first. Writers featured in Playboy over the years included Saul Bellow, Joyce Carol Oates, Anne Sexton, Germaine Greer, Kurt Vonnegut, John Updike, Shere Hite, and Alex Haley, who contributed some groundbreaking interviews. Haley’s interview subjects included Malcolm X, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and George Lincoln Rockwell.

The Playboy interview set a new standard and soon became the hot ticket for celebrities, athletes, and political figures. The reclusive John Lennon and Yoko Ono sat down for a lengthy talk that touched on subjects that were far removed from their music. In an eerie twist of events, the issue featuring Lennon’s interview was on newsstands when he was assassinated in 1981. Presidential candidate Jimmy Carter was interviewed during his 1976 bid for the White House, where he raised eyebrows and the blood pressure of his campaign staff when he stated “I’ve committed adultery in my heart many times.” Even the media-hating Frank Sinatra agreed to an in-depth chat in 1965. If you think Trump has a toxic relationship with the press, check out Sinatra’s pedigree and you’ll understand why this was a noteworthy event.

Over the years, Hefner expanded his empire to include nightclubs, merchandise, and television. He encouraged new talent in the entertainment field, and two of his early TV shows, “Playboy’s Penthouse” and “Playboy After Dark,” featured musicians and stand-up comics in need of exposure. In 1963, he gave a career boost to a young Black comic named Dick Gregory by hiring him to work at the Playboy Club in Chicago. Gregory later claimed that his career took off after that gig. Hefner also sponsored the Playboy Jazz Festival, where lesser-known performers were given a chance to play before a large audience.

Hefner may have promoted sexism through his magazines, clubs, and Playboy Bunnies, but in retrospect, he was simply going with the times. He didn’t start the sexual revolution in the 1960s–he just took advantage of it. To the current generation, Hugh Hefner will likely be remembered as the Botox- and Viagra-addicted old man in the silk pajamas and bathrobe, surrounded by young women who were paid to act like they were having a good time. In reality, he should be remembered as someone who got people thinking and talking about issues that they normally wouldn’t.

And that’s significant.

I’m pleased to announce the release of “The Nick Seven Bundle” from Extasy Books. This volume contains the first three installments of my popular series about a former CIA spook who fled to the Florida Keys in an attempt to start a new life for himself. Along the way he finds romance and more adventures than he cares for.

“He’s as cool as a Pina Colada on a Key West beach, he’s the kind of guy your mother wouldn’t let you play with, and he’s every bad guy’s worst nightmare.

“Nick Seven left the CIA to escape the painful memory of a personal tragedy. His peaceful life in The Florida Keys is disrupted by the sudden appearance of a nemesis from his past, one he thought was buried alongside that unpleasant memory. Nick decides to come back to resolve this unwanted conflict and finally achieve the inner peace he has sought for so long. He’s pleasantly surprised to find himself paired with beautiful Felicia Hagens, a former co-worker from Barbados. As they track down their quarry, they realize they have unrequited feelings for each other. The time might not have been right before, but this is now. When the job is done, Felicia decides to share Nick’s good life in the tropical serenity of Key Largo. Their new life is soon interrupted by a former colleague with a personal score to settle, and a friend of Nick’s who is being manipulated by the covert agency he once worked for. Can Nick and Felicia get past these interruptions and reclaim their personal corner of paradise?”

The set includes “Memories Die Last,” “Never Look Back” and “Warning Shot.” Although the books don’t need to be read in order, this is an excellent way to see how Nick and Felicia got together, and the continuing evolution of their relationship. The debut story, “Memories Die Last,” explains in detail why Nick left the CIA in the first place, and what prompted him to come back for one last assignment. It also explores the unavoidable attraction between Nick and Felicia, his sexy former co-worker from Barbados.

The intrigue continues in the second book, “Never Look Back.” Nick and Felicia are pitted against a rogue agent from their past who shows up in the Keys for no apparent reason, and is soon followed by another CIA operative who used to be Nick’s partner. These unexpected appearances raise a lot of questions. Are they working together? Why is someone following Nick everywhere he goes? Who is responsible for a couple of attempts on their lives? Spoiler alert: the ending to this one will take you by surprise.

The third story in this volume, “Warning Shot,” is a personal favorite of all the books I’ve written. It shows a different side to Nick, something more compassionate that he keeps hidden. He tries to help a friend and former mentor who has gotten caught up in a potentially dangerous situation, one that could have international political impact. There is vivid atmosphere, intrigue, action, quirky characters, and plenty of romance. This is a fast-paced story from start to finish, with some real surprises along the way.

These stories contain something for everyone. There are interesting characters, vivid tropical atmosphere, action, humor, romance, and sizzling sex between Nick and Felicia. It’s safe to say that these two generate more heat than Key West in July.

If you haven’t read any of the other stories in this series, do yourself a favor and pick up this set. It’s priced cheaper than buying all three books separately, and can be found at Amazon and all major book sites. Happy reading!

https://www.amazon.com/Nick-Seven-Bundle-Tim-Smith-ebook/dp/B08LCTHRGF/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=nick+seven+bundle+1&qid=1613159194&s=digital-text&sr=1-1

A group of scholars at a local university recently released a list of words they feel we should use on a regular basis. The study they performed actually focused on ten words that can make you sound smarter. I’m glad they included definitions, because some of these were unknown to me. Perhaps I didn’t attend the right college.

Just think, my friends—within this blog you’ll find ten words you can use to dazzle your friends! Drop some of these into your daily interactions and they’ll be positively beaming at your newfound intelligence. Either that, or they’ll wonder which meds you took this morning. Read on.

Acedia – Spiritual or mental sloth; apathy.
“When she broke up with him, he fell into a state of acedia and didn’t go out for two months.”

Anfractuous – Indirect and containing bends, turns or twists; circuitous.
“The road to the castle was anfractuous.”

Blithering – Senselessly talkative and babbling; used chiefly as an intensive to express annoyance or contempt.
“His Twitter posts were the confused ramblings of a blithering fool.”

Bombinate – Buzzing, humming or droning to the point of distraction.
“A fly bombinated in the sun porch, making it difficult for John to relax.”

Bucolic – Of or relating to the pleasant aspects of the countryside and country life.
“Sitting in his office, Jack felt a twinge of longing for his bucolic childhood on the farm.”

Effulgent – Shining brightly; radiant; emanating joy or goodness.
“Her beauty was enhanced by her effulgent personality.”

Gauche – Lacking ease or grace; unsophisticated and socially awkward.
“His gauche demeanor made Tom stand out at the party.”

Guttle – To eat or drink greedily and noisily.
“As the man sitting across from her guttled his meal, she knew that the blind date was a mistake.”

Mugwump – A person who remains aloof or independent, especially from party politics.
“Ever the mugwump, he refused to take a side in the partisan bickering.”

Stultify – Cause to lose enthusiasm and initiative, especially as a result of tedious or restrictive routine.
“The stultifying clerical work robbed the young intern of the enthusiasm she’d felt on the first day.”

There you have it. Ten words to a better you through an enhanced vocabulary. Personally, when I write, I tend to shy away from words that necessitate a Google search. I do that on purpose, not because I think my readers are gauche or bucolic, but because when I read something with uncommon words, I find the experience stultifying.

To represent the flip side, I have my own list of words that I wish we would stop using so often: witch hunt; fake news; misinformation; recount; tweet; very, very bad; terrible, terrible thing; biggest, most awesome crowd ever; impeachment.

On a final note, I would like to apply a few words to our elected office holders. You can insert whichever names you want.

“I wish our politicians would be more like mugwumps instead of blithering on social media and bombinating on cable news shows.”

Wow, I feel smarter already!

I have a confession to make: many of my stories were inspired by personal experiences.

I’m sure you’re as shocked to hear that as I was to admit it. Writers hide behind the disclaimer “this is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual people and events is unintentional.” While that’s true in my case, I must concede that many of my characters are composites of people I’ve met. They’re not exact clones, but I’ll take a physical trait from one, a speech pattern from another, an interesting quirk or habit from someone else, mix them all together, and presto—I’ve created a character.

The same is true for many of my plots and situations. Something may happen and I’ll play the “what if” game. I’m reminded of a story about the creation of the classic ‘60s sitcom “Get Smart.” When Mel Brooks and Buck Henry pitched the idea, they said “What if James Bond and Inspector Clouseau had a child together?” Thus was born bumbling secret agent Maxwell Smart.

One of my holiday romances, “Mistletoe and Palm Trees,” was inspired by something that happened to me. I had planned a trip to Siesta Key, Florida to do a few book signing appearances and spend a week on the beach. At the last minute, my traveling companion was unable to go, and I took the trip alone. I thought “What if a guy ended up in the Florida Keys alone during the Christmas holidays because his girlfriend broke up with him and he met a woman in a similar situation?” That experience was good for a book and a sequel.

Another romance, “Who Gets the Friends?” resulted from something that happened during the break-up of my marriage several years earlier. I discovered that once we split, some of the so-called mutual friends we had didn’t want to associate with me any longer. I had to start all over, not only with my life but in making some new friends. This was the plot for my story.

Many of my spy thrillers and private eye mysteries may not reflect actual exploits of mine, since I’ve never held either occupation, but some of the situations in those stories incorporate real events. My romantic mystery “The Other Woman” (Vic Fallon Book Four) is an example. At the beginning of the story, Fallon runs into a politician from his hometown while on a layover in an airport, and the man is murdered shortly after they speak. In my own case, I once had a long layover in the Atlanta airport. I saw our state’s Attorney General at a departure gate and we spoke for a few minutes. He wasn’t killed afterward, but again I played the “what if” game.

The Nick Seven spy thriller “Catch and Release” is another example. I was having lunch at a restaurant that had waterfront dining. Many boats were docked nearby, including a yacht. Servers from the restaurant took food to the yacht for four people, but I only saw three. One of the trays was taken into the cabin where the curtains were closed. “Hmm,” my devious mind thought. “Who’s inside? Is it someone who doesn’t want to be seen? Possibly a celebrity, or a criminal in hiding?” That jumpstarted the story and my imagination took over from there.

I’m always amused when someone says “I’d better not wind up as a character in your next book!” It also tickles me when I get asked if the sexual exploits of my characters were inspired by personal experiences. In both cases I just smile and remain silent.