Being True To Yourself

by Brenda on April 9, 2014

The first kissAnd then it comes, the blaze of our first kiss. It is a bottomless kiss, soft and tender, hard and unrelenting, hungry, but not sated. He pulls back but only long enough to whisper, “Is this what you had in mind?” His kiss is with the agility of vast experience. As I lose myself inside of his kiss, I wonder if there is a hall of fame for ‘the best of the best’ somewhere in the Smithsonian, and remind myself to Google kisses later.

Have you been kissed like this?

I like to think everyone has known the thrill of this sort of kiss at least once in their lifetime.  I also hope it’s not a one time event, rather there multiple moments when the ground disappears.

One of my top twenty favorite songs is Passionate Kisses, written by Lucinda Williams:

Is it too much to ask
I want a comfortable bed that won’t hurt my back
Food to fill me up
And warm clothes and all that stuff
Shouldn’t I have this
Shouldn’t I have this
Shouldn’t I have all of this, and

Passionate kisses
Passionate kisses, whoa oh oh
Passionate kisses from you

I should!  I think to myself whenever I hear this song. And then, I set about to making sure I do.  But that’s another story.

I am writer with a bent for writing stories with a passionate twist, thus there is always a blank page waiting for the description of the first kiss between the lovers in my story.  While I don’t limit myself to fiery narratives, I will confess to a long standing fascination with the many facets of love.

Love is one of those themes that had endless possibilities.

Motherly love
Fatherly love
Family love
Love of music
Of words
Of ……

And on the list goes

I’ve dabbled with a few themes from the list but romantic love is what entices me. How to describe the flutter in my stomach, the rush of my pulse, the pounding in my heart, the taste of the kiss, just slays me. As much as I am enthralled with the notion of falling deeply, is how the mind loses all control and becomes a slave to the logic-deprived actions of the heart.

But this wasn’t always the case…

When I first came out of the closet and declared myself a writer I thought I should aspire to be lofty, be literary, use words that required a dictionary to understand. I believed dense, opaque writing would find me obscure fame and place on the table of contents of The New Yorker.

I know why I felt this was who I should be as writer. I succumbed to the pressure of the workshop, drank the green Kool-Aid, and convinced myself I was like my classmates—a literary-ista wannabe. Oh yes, this was my destiny. I drove home the night of my first meeting spewing platitudes believing my manufactured revelation to be my fate as a writer. I was euphoric. I had a blueprint to the table of contents of The New Yorker, maybe even The Atlantic.

The problem was no matter how hard I tried to write poetic prose I continued doodling little hearts. I drew big ones, interlinking ones. I drew on the notebooks that I carried with me at all times. Nothing was safe from my wandering pen: napkins, the inside of a gum wrapper, and even on the tops of my thighs, I drew hearts with my trusty red Sharpie.

I was not destined to be a literary-ista.

Instead, I chronicle the stories of quirky characters longing to explore love—in all it’s flavors—upon the page. It’s what my inner vixen wanted to write, although she does not prohibit me from spreading my wings.

What puts the bounce in your step and the flutter in the pit of your stomach, beside a kiss, of course?


A Writer’s Writing Process

by Brenda on March 31, 2014

My Writing Process revealed:

Thanks, Kelly Hashway–Speculative Fiction Author– for inviting me to participate in the My Writing Process, worldwide blog tour.

What the heck am I working on today?

As Rosanna Dana always said, “It’s always something…” in my case, there is always something brewing on my pages.

My current project, BIPPITY BOPPITY BOO, is a Bewitched meets Bridget Jones story. It’s a novel, and it currently looking to be complete at 82,000 words (final edits will determine actual word count.assignment4_granger_caitlin

You’re wondering how my story differs from other stories with bewitching twist. 

Charly Rivera is not your typical woman. She’s spent her life coveting Jan Brady’s life of simplicity, the very last thing she wants to do on her twenty-fifth birthday is join her mother, Esmeralda, under a full moon on the winter solstice, celebrating her gift of magick at a Wicca coming out party. But having spent her formative years peddling dreams to the broken hearted for twenty-five dollars a shuffle; she doubts she’ll be able to deny the magick much longer. Her powers are strong, but as the big day draws near, her abilities grow tenfold.

She’d also like to find a man taller than she is who is not metrosexual, doesn’t find carbs offensive, and won’t drop her like a hot caldron when he discovers she’s the daughter of the psychic to the stars, owner of, and best selling author. She lives vicariously through Lawrence, her best friend, who indulges on the delectable offerings of San Francisco’s nightlife. She’s resigned herself to running her business—Charly’s Coo-Coo-Ca-Choux Cookies, a boutique cookie provider to the baristas throughout the city—and spinsterhood, maybe a coven for retired and de-magicked Wiccans.

Artwork: Caitlin Granger—daughter and graphic design student—created the cover as part of a homework assignment. I like the bit about being a New York Time’s bestseller!

Why do I write what I do?

I don’t know, I just do. I’m not locked into any particular type of story, although I lean towards writing fiction about quirky, strong women, with non-formulaic endings because life isn’t always perfect.  But I have written for middle grade, young adult, and very recently, the trendy new adult market.

That’s all well and good, but you’re curious about my writing process?

I don’t have a specific process other than I sit down multiple times each day, and write. Since I have a day job, I don’t have a set schedule and find time in my day to write a word here, three hundred words, there.  I buy notebooks, but do not use them. I have writing journals, in fact, I have several, but mostly they collect dust on the shelf.  I have Scrivner, which is amazingly powerful but I don’t use it regularly. My preferred medium is MS Word.

I don’t go looking for a story, rather a character falls into me, which is where I start. I don’t dream up elaborate plots. I tried following a plotting process but it didn’t work for me. I don’t plan the entire story before I write. I can’t start a story until I see the character and know their name.  Once this information reveals itself, the rest materializes each day as I sit down and write.

How do you tackle big projects?  


You can read about my new novella, Loving is Good, the first in the series, here, published by The Wild Rose Press.

You can find me on Facebook and Twitter, as well.

Thanks for stopping by, and keep me posted.

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Loving is Good

by Brenda on March 22, 2014

A sneak peak at Loving is Good

LovingIsGood_resized“Wear those jeans you bought—you know, the ones that cost a couple hundred dollars—a black bra, and one of those white tank T-shirts you wear around the house.”

“The I’m easy, come and get me, baby, Latina-from-the-hood look? Seriously? That’s not a positive image for the next generation of Latinas, Mom.”

“What’s wrong with showing off your curves to sell a few extra bowls of chili? Besides, you want to look your best in case that sexy friend of yours shows up again.” She winked and ran her hand over my unruly locks.

 Gabe Mercer, the black cloud in my sunny day. He was six foot five, a solid mass of goodness, with topaz eyes that melted the skin off my bones every time he fluttered his come-hither lashes in my direction. He was the kind of guy that had you at Hello, but when he left your bed—and he’d left many—you started a blog and wrote sappy love poems the rest of your days and ended up marrying your dentist’s son, Wilber Puck, the one who wore coke-bottle spectacles, ill-fitting tan trousers, and a checkered shirt.

I rolled my eyes.

“Youth is wasted on the young. Would it kill you to wear your Wonder Bra, sashay around the park tables, and show off those pearly whites of yours that cost your parents fifteen thousand dollars to straighten?” Tia Jo said. 


Loving is Good


Brenda Moguez

Celia Mendoza is not living La Vida Loca. She put her college dreams on hold after her father died. Now she dishes out advice in her e-zine column, Luna Love, Loving is Good. The problem is, she hasn’t had a second date or a kiss in over a year. Then Gabe Mercer, a modern-day Adonis, shows up, daring her to take a chance. The string of broken hearts in his wake turns Celia off, but his relentless encouragement to pursue her dream of becoming a serious journalist contradicts his reputation, making it hard to fight the pull of his topaz, come-hither eyes. He’s everything Luna Love tells her readers to take a chance on, but Celia can’t decide if a chance encounter is worth the gamble. But life has a will of its own, and hers is pushing Celia to accept the uncertainty and run towards her destiny.


Loving is Good is coming soon!  Share the word and I promise you millions……of hugs.


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The Art of Eavesdropping

March 20, 2014

Conversations from an Urban Pub-Crawl I spent the past weekend in San Francisco dropping in on conversations and watching people. It’s a bad habit. I justify my questionable behavior by telling myself that I’m an observer of human nature, and that it’s OK. I find people fascinating, and the writer me relishes in completing their […]

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Keeping Faith

March 9, 2014

I suppose for any creative person there is doubt and fear, resolve and excitement. All equal in magnitude with each occasionally tipping the scales and wrecking havoc on the psyche at any given period depending on your level of crazy. We all have our ‘special moments’, when logic and rational behavior slip through the cracks […]

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