Vicki Batman has sold many romantic comedy works to magazines, several publishers, and most recently, two humorous romantic mysteries. Along the way, she has picked up some awards and bestsellers. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Women’s Fiction Writers Association, and several writing groups. Avid Jazzerciser. Handbag lover. Mahjong player. Yoga practitioner. Movie fan. Book devourer. Chocaholic. Best Mom ever. And adores Handsome Hubby. Most days begin with her hands set to the keyboard and thinking “What if??”

Beverley: Which genre or genres do you write or prefer to write? And why?

Vicki: I write off the genres of mystery and contemporary romance, specifically romantic comedy. It’s just the voice that comes from me. 

Beverley: Who influenced you the most in deciding to become a writer?

Vicki: A friend told me to write; so I did and kept working and working. From my first critique came the suggestion to Write Tight and I embraced the book. Learned a lot. 

Beverley: What gets your creative juices flowing?

Vicki: I love when a new idea comes along and type and type and type to get those initial thoughts down. Since I am a pantser, the work begins after that to revise and edit and make the story into something, well, like a story.

Beverley: Do you have a favorite cartoon character? Why?

Vicki: Bugs Bunny, hands down. He’s sassy. He torments the tormentors. He makes the “wrong turn at Albuquerque.” He munches on carrots and says, “What’s up, Doc?” He dances and flirts. I could go on and on. The cartoons are masterpieces.

Beverley: Who would you love most to meet ‘in person’ and why?

Vicki: Not so much meet someone alive now. I wish my grandmother was still alive. I learned so many things from her. I loved how her eyes danced in merriment. She could tat, knit, crochet, embroider, sew, and all the farm things. Baked great cakes. Her husband died when my mom was five, and she carried the family during the Depression without taking handouts.

Beverley: If you had an unexpected free day what would you do with it?

Vicki: I sandwich in me-times now because life is short. I Jazzercise, yoga, play mahjong, read, stitch, watch tv with Handsome, watch movies with Handsome, eat lunches with friends—all that and sit at the computer for several hours every day. Besides, I might hear a nugget for a story.

Beverley: What are you working on now?

Vicki: Too much. Still working on my third Hattie Cooks’ mystery. A short story, Christmas Romeo. A short story, Pixie Trixie. I turned in an essay recently. And turned in a short story for the Whispers of Winter holiday anthology…coming soon!

Blurb for The Great Fruitcake Bake-off from Whispers of Winter

Winter may be rolling in, but that doesn’t mean your days and nights must be cold.

The Great Fruitcake Bake-off: When a five-time champion Samantha Greene teams up with her new neighbor, Dixon Roberts, for The Great Fruitcake Bake-off, they discover baking a prize-winning entry is complicated, bad guys are plotting to take the crown, and first prize isn’t just about a ribbon.

Excerpt for The Great Fruitcake Bake-off from Whispers of Winter

  “I’m not entering this year.” I pinned an unbreakable stare on Bethany, my co-worker and long-time friend who lived in the same apartment complex as me. Standing firm, I crossed my arms. “Period.” 

We’d arrived early for work and were piddling over coffee in her cubical like we always did before diving into the nuts and bolts of company business. She rolled her eyes in the “I’m so not believing this” fashion and tweaked the Santa garland decorating her cube’s walls. “Why not, Samantha? You should be proud to be the five-time winner of The Great Fruitcake Bake-off. You’re a-a”–her words trailed off as she searched the ceiling for the ultimate in descriptive–“legend.” 

 I dropped my arms to twitch my black skirt in place, then I tucked my shoulder-length hair behind my ear. I let loose a long exhale, “Is being a legend in the fruitcake world a good thing?”

“What’s your point?” Bethany asked.

“Alright already, it’s exhausting. Finding the perfect recipe, then bake and exhibit it. The tension comes close to killing my holiday enjoyment. Besides”-–I shoved my finger in her direction—-“shouldn’t the love be spread? Shouldn’t somebody else win the Bake-off?” 

 “Oh, by golly, Sam.” Bethany’s hands covered her eyes. A few seconds passed, then she clasped them to her chest, inhaled, and composed her annoyance before saying, “We’re talking fruitcake here. It’s not groundbreaking like-like the Declaration of Independence. Or the Pyramids.”

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