Pass the Kryptonite

by Raz Steel

Willow Bolden, a nineteen-year-old psychology major, is on track to finish college so she and her BFF can attend grad school together and open their own clinic. And Willow loves her fiancé. She’s just not “in love” with him anymore. If only she could figure out how to tell him. However, the “minor” fiancé problem pales in comparison to the brazen flirt hitting on her in cyber space. A zealous dancer hitting on her in Central Park. And a world-class psychology professor blocking graduation whom she’d like to hit. She hates one. She’s never met two. And she’s analyzing all three. She has a roommate who loves to stir the pot, a cat who pretends to be a dog, and a dog who sings with a horse. Willow’s mother calls daily, her almost-ex-fiancé refuses to give up, and she finds herself in a predictable rut. But Willow is full of surprises!

326 pages, Paperback

Published October 19, 2020

About the author

I’m a grandfather for the first time! Baby and mom are doing fine. “Dad” reports being exhausted. You can see an adorable pic of my grandson being introduced to “Captain Raz” on my Facebook page at RAZSTEELAuthor. (see the post from October 31, 2016)

Speaking of births, I was born in a chalet in Frisco, Colorado. My alter-ego was born farther east—or farther west if you go the long way. I’ve always been an incredible storyteller, and as a child, that may have been one thing my father didn’t appreciate 100% of the time. I’m a pilot, a teacher, a recycler, a dad, and the aforementioned granddad! My degree from Lafayette College is in Philosophy, and I currently reside in Pennsylvania.

My writing career began on the heels of becoming a pilot. Being terrified of heights (anything over the third rung of a ladder) the choice didn’t seem difficult: fly or write. You may be asking, why did I become a pilot? Dad always said, “Son, face your fears head-on.” So, I went as high as I could. Didn’t work.

I gravitate toward science fiction in the bookstore, and I enjoy reading romance. I just finished reading A Man Called Ove, which of course is neither.