A lot of writers tell great stories about being wild, imaginative children with life-long ambitions of sharing their fantastical daydreams. That was never me. As a little girl, I was so dyslexic that I could barely read a book. The only reason I had any exposure to Tad Williams, Isaac Asimov and JRR Tolkien was because my mother would read them to my sister and I every night before bed. I struggled through every single English class in my entire life. I had nine majors in college, finally culminating in a Communications degree and a short, disastrous journalism career. To this day, my resumé is so toxic that I can’t even get a job at Starbucks. That’s probably a good thing… I can burn anything edible or potable. Anything.
But at some point in college – with the help of my then-boyfriend and now-husband, Aron Christensen – I began writing Anvil of Tears. It took two years to draft and then several more to edit. I still can’t tell you why I had to write that book, but I did. When it was done, I started on Sword of Dreams and butchered it spectacularly. I scrapped the manuscript and figured I should work on something else for a while. That’s when I wrote In the House of Five Dragons. That book had a whole new crop of problems, but at least most of them were different ones than before. I had learned something! Yay!
It was just two books, but for a girl who nearly flunked the fourth grade because she couldn’t even write a 500-word short story, it was amazing. I could not believe that I had actually managed to write a pair of novels. Nothing else in my life prepared me for the rush of joy and satisfaction I felt the first time that I held one of my creations in my shaking hands.
I’ve been writing with Aron ever since.
Aron’s the one with the day job. So in addition to all of his contributions, he also keeps us fed. His coauthoring began simply as input on Anvil of Tears, then more emphatic advice on In the House of Five Dragons that resulted in scrapping 100 pages of work. I just about tore out his throat for that one, but Aron was absolutely right. I had a major plot hole that was going to ruin the whole book if I didn’t fix it. After that was Sword of Dreams. I told Aron that he better come be my coauthor from page one. I didn’t want to get months into a manuscript just to discover that I had overlooked something simple. Aron agreed.
Despite being the more sociable and prolific writer of our little duo, he’s almost silent online. You’ll probably never see a blog post from him, a tweet or even very many Facebook posts. But he’s the vital backbone to all we do.
Want to say more than that, Aron? Then write your own dang bio!
Natalie & Eric Severine
Natalie and Eric are really just Aron and I, but those are the pen names we use to write erotica. Why bother with a different set of pen names? Well, we don’t want any of our Erica Lindquist and Aron Christensen readers accidentally ending up with smutty stories in their hands. It might be a rather rude shock to go from mainstream fantasy and sci-fi to the forest of cocks that is our Natalie and Eric Severine catalog.
Why Natalie and Eric Severine? That part is our secret. Unless you’ve gamed with us.
So if you like our genre fiction, but want a lot more steamy bits, try out Natalie and Eric Severine. If not, consider those names a warning label. Enjoy!
Oy & Trogdor
These are our cats. It’s a little hard to tell in this picture, but Oy is about twice as big as Trogdor. He’s a 20-pound bengal/tabby mix with sharp claws, long teeth and a bite that can crack bones. Not as ferocious as it sounds, though… Oy is kind of a wuss. A friend made me a fleece Baymax blanket and Oy freaked right the fuck out. Wouldn’t get near it for days. He still regards it warily. As a kitten, the big dork once failed to corner correctly and smashed his face into a wall, breaking his nose. As a result, he’s got the loudest snore in the entire house.
Oy is named after the billy-bumbler in Stephen King’s The Dark Tower.
Trogdor is a little orange slip of a tabby cat. He’s tiny and friendly and dumb as a post. He gets into head-butting contests with the wall. He insisted on wrestling with Oy, who is – as previously mentioned – twice his size. Dumbass. But Oy is – also as previously mentioned – a complete pansy. So Trogdor wins more often than you might expect. Maybe he’s not so dumb after all…
Trogdor’s full name is Trogdor the Purrinator.