What, When, Where, Why, How with Laurel Bradley

Good morning and WELCOME Laurel Bradley!!

What danger would you choose: the three sadistic mob hit men about to drag you back to the evil twisted drug lord or the gargoyle with blood dripping from his talons?

Oh, that’s easy...the gargoyle with blood dripping from his talons. The dripping blood tells me he’s already eaten and since humans are the only creature that kills for the heck of it, I’m safe. Right? Besides, I’d really love to spend some time chatting with that gargoyle. What does it eat? How does it breed? They’ve been around for centuries and have a long world view. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to hang on the sides of buildings. What has he seen? Why do gargoyles always have such pained expressions on their faces? Are they in pain? Is there something I could do to help? I’d love to invite this one to live at my house if it’s not too big. Maybe it knows of a little one that would like to relocate.

I have a friend who has a small faux rock gargoyle that sits in front of her house holding a sign that reads, “Go away.” I think it’s hilarious.

When do you wake up in the morning?

I wake up at seven o’clock in the morning when my husband puts a steaming cup of coffee on my bedside table. The coffee is exactly the way I like it: scalding hot with more milk than coffee. I know I’m spoiled. My husband is wonderful. It doesn’t happen every morning, maybe two of three times a week. I never expect it, so I’m always pleasantly surprised. And, as you can imagine, I’m always very appreciative. Yes, my husband has brothers. Five of them, but they’re happily married, as well. Sorry.

Where is the best tourist spot in your town?

I live in a lovely small town. While we have a cool, newly reconditioned, 440 Union Pacific train engine, caboose and station on the main drag and a fair ground with stock car and snowmobile racing, our best tourist spots are the surrounding lakes and a small ski hill located out of town. Let me tell you about the ski hill. It’s amazing. It costs $2 for children (6-14), $3 for a student ticket, and $4 for an adult. It’s run by volunteers and open Saturdays and Sundays when there’s enough snow. The chalet was built using donations. It’s a testimony to community spirit.
The funny thing was, I asked two of my kids this question. My sixteen year old daughter raised a brow and said, “McDonalds?” Did I mention that we live in small town?

Why is that man wearing RayBans kept staring at you?

Because my future is so bright he needs to wear shades to see me. ((laughing))
Actually, it’s my seventeen year old son. I have the car keys. He and a buddy are doing a Blues Brothers number for the talent show at the high school tonight. It’s a reprise. When they did it last year, girls swooned. Did I mention he looks like his father?

How would you react to a meteorite crashing into your Jacuzzi?

Funny you’d ask.

My darling husband and I enjoy sitting on the deck watching the stars from our hot tub. You can see a lot of stars out here because nights are dark thanks to the low light pollution.

We have a running joke about UFOs. A national radio show highlights such things. It’s the only station the old radio in the bathroom gets. People call in to describe what they’ve seen. Invariably UFOs are described as being a color never seen before. My hubby likes to spot the odd airplane, adopt an accent, and point out the “UFO.”

So, there we sat one night, trying to identify constellations, teasing each other about UFOs, and catching glimpse of the odd shooting star when, “plop.”

“What the...! Something just fell from the sky.”

I look at my husband, certain he’s teasing me. “Oh, yeah. That darned UFO dropped something. Nasty outer space polluters.”

“No, really.” He fishes around the tub, earning a few giggles and hand slaps before finally coming up with a pebble from heaven.

He flips on the underwater lights.

We examine his find. I’m tempted to say it was combination of colors we’d never seen before, but really it’s an irregular, roughly oblong shape, about half an inch long by maybe a quarter inch across. It’s glossy, silver, and smooth. Frankly, I think it looks suspiciously like the remnant of smelting.

I have it around here somewhere.

Really.

Would I make up something like that?

Laurel Bradley lives in Wisconsin with her husband and five children. She is a liaison for Wisconsin’s Romance Writers of America and a frequent contributor to their newsletter The Write Touch. She enjoys talking to book clubs and writing classes about her writing, publishing and marketing experiences. When she isn’t reading or writing, she enjoys painting with watercolor and creating Ukrainian eggs.

To book an appearance or find out more, visit her online at www.laurelbradley.com