Tell me...WHO ARE YOU? WHY ARE YOU HERE?

Here we are, less than a week from 2016.
Possibly, like most, or perhaps not, I do a lot of soul searching by year's end.
I look back at the twelve months, and ask myself, did I do anything good?

What can I improve on?

Where do I want to be next year at this time?

For those of you who know me well, last year was particularly tough for me. This year? Better. Why? I kept my focus on my work and things that made me happy. I kept off...the internet.

Sound silly? I'm not so sure. I found the social sites, the reviews, and the chronic downer of the mass media, the cruelty, and the violence, had a profound impact on me. Maybe I'm not the powerful cop I once was? And, well, I am only human.

I ask myself this at times...

WHY AM I HERE?


Quite a big question.
We are born...we live...we die.
No one escapes that.
Some lives are only minutes long, others, nearly a century. There's simply no way to know how long you have to do...
What is it we are here to do.

Take a look at yourself as the year goes away.


Study that person for a moment. Oh, I know, we may think we're too fat, too thin, too old, too this, too that.
No. I mean, the person. Not the shell. We are a product of nurture and nature, of our genetics and our schooling, not the flesh and bones that hold it.

As you wander through this world, what do you do? Some of you are lovers and protectors of animals, fight for women's rights, battle hate and teach love. Bravo to those of you. Some of you may tell me you are here to give birth to a child, and hope that individual contributes to the world, lives the life you wish you had?

I asked myself that question. While I was a police officer, I actually thought I was 'helping people'. It seemed like a noble cause.
Then, soon after, I realized that job was so much more, or less, depen

So here I am. Writing.
Why am I here? Why was I given a chance on this planet to do something? What is it I chose to do?
In my deepest thoughts I do hope, that I teach tolerance and love. A straight woman writing gay erotic romance. I don't know why I am here doing this, but here I am, nearly 130 novels behind me, two feature films done and dusted, more on the way, and...

Could it be true that within a year after my death, no one will know my name? Will it matter? Probably not. Only a small percentage of us achieve eternity.


The rest of us are here for a flash, and gone. The mystery of the universe solved. WE ARE ALL TEMPS.

As you look at yourself, make New Year's resolutions that you most likely will never keep, ask yourself this: Why Am I Here?

And if the answer to that is; to do a little good for the world, then smile.
If the real answer is to become a weapon of mass destruction for everything you envy, hate, and cannot tolerate, then 'I' already know who you are, and so does everyone else.

Tell me now. WHY ARE YOU HERE? And, Who the fuck are you?


Have a better year than last, and be careful out there, it's a very dangerous world.

Another Year is Gone...Reflections by Mark Antonious Richfield.

Well, it's me again, Mark Antonious.
As you know, Ms Hauser occasionally asks me to fill in, simply because she is either too busy, or something has put her panties in a twist.
I don't ask. Any of you acquainted with this little spark-plug, know when to stand clear.

I see no reason for her to be in a snit. I read so many supporting words on her last post on an infamous website, (one which at times makes me quite ill at ease) you would think her mood would be happy.

But if you know me or my creator, we both agree happiness may purely be a standard too high for some to attain. So, we quit striving.
It makes for much less stress, mind you. Without expectations, my attentive lovelies, there are no disappointments. Live it, learn it. Yes, we have. There, of course, are reasons to be thankful, one supposes. In times of need, yes, friends do show up. Some unexpectedly, but always received with gratitude. And the truest of true, are forever my safety net. (I love you all, and you know it.)


Nonetheless, the world is a harsh place. So much violence, so much pain, is it any wonder writers, artists, and musicians, create beauty? They hide, my pets, to insulate themselves from a world so coated in shite, one must use a nappy to wipe it away before clarity is regained.

It may be simple for a few to ignore the trolls, which seem very insignificant at the moment. After all, their vitriol is like shooing flies in a world of angry wasps. Wasps with weapons. Hmm, is that a new name for a novel? No. It's not.

I digress.

My point, and of course we all know, I am simply an alter-ego of, well, never mind. We, 'her and I', assume readers are quite intelligent. I think that's a very fair assumption. They read, for pity's sake!


But opinions, they become as pesky as mosquitoes. Though they are many, some can be quashed with one swat, others, simply need a good dose of spray to go away. Do they make a troll-repellent? I take it, common decency isn't enough to repel the buggers. Nevermind, it's an exercise in futility. Whomever coined the phrase, "HATERS GONNA HATE" must have known them intimately.

I do have a bloody feeling I am rambling, and why do you care what I am spouting about?

Because, my dearests, the end is nigh. We shall blink and begin writing 2016. I never thought I'd live to write it. I'm not sure I am glad I am. My world would have been much simpler at 'SAYING GOODBYE'. I do think of the 12 months that have slipped through my fingers, like honey? or perhaps, more like petrol.
So reflective, isn't it? What would have changed if I had not made it beyond my intended demise in that book? That month? That year?

In the end, what we do with our lives seems quite meaningless. Do we truly remember all the little people? The small stars who have worked decades to help advance love, no. We do not.

The accomplishments we have done, yesterday, today, and even in our future, are left behind. We are all the same really; we have hearts (some cold as ice, mind), skin (of every glorious color!), lungs in which to breathe toxic air, and of course OPINIONS.

Let us never forget those. They can make one live or die, laugh or cry, yet they are that and that alone. Opinions.

Facts confuse many. And gossip and rumors are so much more fun! (I am being sarcastic.) As you know, I have been the victim of terrible slander, vile libel, and thankfully not that my creator knows of at the moment of my writing this blog, plagiarism...yet.
But the threat does loom. (someone had the cheek to write on a review, the book may have not been penned by my beloved creator. I assure you my lovelies, they are hers, her blood, her tears, and quite literally, her pain.)

Yet those horrors sound low on a priority list now. My dilemma, if you can call it that...

I am in an awkward situation. I adore police, yet I am gay, I wish for women to continue to have the right to choose, yet, I am powerless, I watch in disgrace as the high and mighty wield their power, both in the political arena, and the internet bollocks-filled pages, which forever scroll to haunt me! that I...Mark Antonious Richfield, truly have learned nothing. In the year that has gone by, I see the same issues- like a skipping LP record, (for those of you who do not know what that is, it was a vinyl item with wonderful music on it, oh, please do your history lessons. Do not ask me what band Paul McCartney was in.)


What's all this about, you may ask...that is, if you have even bothered to read this far.


NOTHING. It's about the complete lack of anything to cling to. Of a dream that cannot become a reality, of achieving one's goals in this short span we call life.

Oh, go ahead, throw your fortunes cookie philosophy at me, tell me how wonderful life is... if only...

But the year is gone. Sorry, if you missed it. Sorry if you lost someone. Just remember, your words, and your deeds, will forever mark who you are- FOREVER in this digital age, we are recorded for life, (Just ask the DOJ)

I do not pray. I do not have hope. I simply have valium.

But for those spiritual enough to believe there's a man with a beard waiting to give you treats in the afterlife, more power to you.

I shall end this ridiculous babbling and let you go.
My question will always remain...WHY CAN'T YOU LET ME GO?

Yes, I know. Steven and Adam and my son, Alexander, have made it clear. But if you want a way to destroy a human being (not a fictitious twit like myself), one who has a heart and a soul, then allow your 'opinions' your hating-mongrel-spouting, your life of giving out snide reviews, comments, and fury, to continue to harm the helpless.

If not.
Have a wonderful season of love and laughter. Because, my lovelies, it is not limitless.

We all should know at one time or another, we shall be saying good-bye.

As the lovely Ms H would say,
Be careful, it's a very dangerous world out there.

Yes, Mark Antonious Is Back For More

Number 17? Really?

Yes, Action! Series Book 17 is next. Mark and I tried to say goodbye at #15. If you're a fan, then you would have seen the little wink in that novel, me with Mark at the airport, saying goodbye.

The next book after that was a free book I only posted on my website. It was a way for me to wrap up the series with thoughts from my characters and myself. I did include a summary of their death dates, in the future, (i.e. 2025, etc) because I didn't think I would be here to write more.

Many of you don't know, but last December, I was very ill, and in the hospital. I don't enjoy posting about my private life, so the few who were close to me knew that.

Once I recovered and was able to work, I dared to look back on the reviews of 'Saying Goodbye'. I have to admit I was stunned at how many of my fans not only commented, but emailed me, 'No more Mark?' They wanted more.

So, after having many fans ask for another novel, I wrote, 'Coming Home' much to the chagrin of my haters, and of course, of Mark's haters. Right after completing 'Coming Home', I wrote 'Knowing Better'. I was deep in the Mark Antonious-zone, so I went for it, and wrote two.

I know my Action! men fans are a select group. They have to be. Good Lord, there are 17 books in the series, several prequels and satellite books, including of course 'Capital Games' (which I made into a feature film) the first meeting of gorgeous Mark and handsome former LAPD officer Steven Miller.


For a while, ghosts of Mark showed up everywhere, his TVR, Tuscan, his
Dangereux cologne, his billboards...


I don't know why there is a love/hate relationship from individuals to Mark, why I created him in the first place, or even how I came up with his birthday of November 17th. It just came with his character.

On the cusp of releasing this novel, I expect Mark fans to do the happy dance, and most likely, the trolls will roll their eyes and groan that Mark is back.

Of course, no one is forcing anyone to read them, but I do find it amusing that the trolls take the time to curse every one of the 17 novels. I think its flattering that even Mark's haters follow him like his shadow.

Mark Antonious and I, we are going to be here for a while. How much longer? I don't know.
I suppose he has become one with me, and as long as my fans crave him and his insane group of merry men, WTF. I have to admit, when I write an Action! series book, I am so into it, I can write it in a week. No other books have that kind of power for me.

Why? I don't know. But, there is certainly something about Mark that draws me to him, and some of my fans simply can't get enough of the flawed Top Model.

November 17th, Seventeen days of Action!
I hope you enjoy this next installment of the boys, and a big thank you to everyone who helped me get through a miserable era of my life, and back on my feet. You know who you are, and I adore all of you.

Knowing Better- Believe me, I don't know any better and neither does my beloved Mark.

Be careful out there, it's a very dangerous world.

KNOWING BETTER buy links:

All Romance ebooks:
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-knowingbetter-1923805-356.html

Paperback:
http://www.amazon.com/Knowing-Better-Book-17-Action/dp/1517303826/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1447524091&sr=1-2&keywords=knowing+better+ga+hauser

Kindle:
http://www.amazon.com/Knowing-Better-Book-17-Action-ebook/dp/B017QUW2HK/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1447518623&sr=1-1&keywords=knowing+better+hauser

Bookstrand:
http://www.bookstrand.com/knowing-better-book-17

Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/591488

Kobo:
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/knowing-better

Nook:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/knowing-better-book-17-action-series-ga-hauser/1122928146;jsessionid=D26FF04530A3EB50BB43E5E78029D763.prodny_store01-atgap05?ean=2940152456912

Bundle: all 16 books on Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/Action-Series-16-Book/dp/B0161WMEUY/ref=sr_1_1_ha?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1446483963&sr=1-1&keywords=dripping+hot+hauser

Writing is Not a Competitive Sport

I don't know where to begin on this one.

But it's the same old song, over and over.

I suppose it can be compared to the media's extreme reporting of right and left wing mentality, or of political candidates telling lies.
The fact is; you can never stop some things. I learned this the hard way. There will always be that evil lurking, the full-time insecure individuals, who do nothing but think life is some sort of competition, and the one who wins, gets what? A throne and a crown?

My first book was published in 2003. I have been in this 'business' a very long time. I have seen over a decade of changes, some good, most not so good.


One thing I cannot get my head wrapped around is how authors set up 'sock puppets' and anonymous profiles, simply to 'think' they are damaging a competitor. Let me tell you, my jealous troll, you aren't. No longer are readers ignorant to the tactics. The one star review without a verified purchase, the reporting of up and coming author's books, the smearing on secret sites. Ladies and Gentleman, we are aware.

All you are doing is pissing into the wind, AND, helping give publicity to the author you are so terrified of.

But when did this become some morbid competition??

That's where my confusion lies. When I began writing, oh, so long ago! We all helped each other. I was happy to put short stories into my novels for authors who struggled to get published, I was thrilled to be here to answer questions as to -how to- do anything- anything about publishing at all.

I still get queries about police procedure and self-publishing.
When did it become a competition?

Do you realize how many books readers read??? A good friend of mine has nearly 1000 books on his wish list. A THOUSAND.

I'm sorry, fellow authors, that's enough sales for all of us. I can't believe after twelve years of writing, I have the impulse to write a blog like this, again.

I simply will never understand it. I don't understand the scams of fake reviews, I don't understand giving a book a lousy review, one you have obviously not even read, and I most certainly do not understand banning a book cover off a social site, that isn't even lewd. All simply to stop an author from doing what they love, writing and publishing their work. Don't get me started on illegal downloads and the toll that is taking on many of us.

When did this industry dissolve into hatred and jealousy? I look back over the years and yes, I do see when things changed. It was like hitting a truck face on. But, there is nothing we can do but help each other. We will NEVER stop the trolls from their playfully jerking off to their one star reviews, we will never stop jealousy from trolls hitting the 'ban/report' button when a good author is about to release a book.

But good things do rise from the ashes.
We see who the authors are that are part of our COMMUNITY. Yes, our group of compassionate people, who know, THERE ARE ENOUGH READERS FOR EVERYONE. Good lord.


I know, like a few others who have recently been hit, we'll never stop it. But it's mattering less and less. We get reported? Dozens of people rise to our defense and post for us; we get nailed with a shitty troll review? Our true fans come out and tell the world, they are wrong.

A year ago, I thought there was no hope, nothing made sense to me any longer. But as life goes on, we learn.
I have learned after nearly two decades of writing, and thirteen of published writing, that shit happens. And that shit is called a troll. We can't stop them, but we can help each other when they smear their shite.

If you write only to be the first one on a list, then you aren't doing it from the heart. Some of us write because we must. Our love of the word, the story, making new ideas fun, and trying to teach, love is love...that, my dear readers, is an author.

Be safe out there-
It's a jungle.

The World Is Too Big For Me

For those of you who read this blog, which I may have a few who do, I don't often write them. Not weekly, or daily. I do wish I had the time and intelligence to write more of my thoughts, my wishes, my dreams. I envy bloggers like Ryan Field, Kage Alan, and Max Vos. They put so much time and effort into making wonderful newsworthy pages for readers, writers, and whoever catches their links on social media.

I admire those men, and women, of course, who have so much to say, meaningful, heartfelt issues, that interest us all. I am an avid reader of those men's blogs, and enjoy the links, their messages and of course, them as individuals.

Working on blogs is a very strange idea. Is it a personal venue for us to vent? Advertise? Give our opinions to social change, items of note? Or, just post naughty pics?

I do blog about things that eat at me. I'm too thin skinned for my own good. I know the social networks have their place now in our society, but so many times I log on and cringe. I no longer can handle the world as it is. If you look at it from a whole, or maybe from what are the highly over-stated news articles, it, for me, is truly cringe worthy.



The pain, killing, violence, ignorance, destruction, lack of tolerance, you name it- I simply think I have become too small to contain all of it. The world is too large for me to do anything.



In college I was so powerful. I would drive my force into causes- defied the killing of wolves and wildlife with art and protests. I was so eager to be one of the numbers who fought for women's equality, PPH, and gay rights. I marched, I picketed, I became a cop to help people, to protect the weak, to make the streets a little safer. Now, through my writing, I am hoping to open minds, one at a time.

But I am weary. I have been battling the same issues for decades. Animals are being poached to extinction, war vets are being mistreated, woman's rights are being trampled, a few heavy-handed cops are fucking all of us police officers daily...

I am very tired.
A year ago, I was going to throw in the towel. I no longer could stand the weight of the world, the issues that become more and more heated, hated, the attacks on people I adore...


I have no idea how I made it back from the abyss. Believe me when I tell you, I am hanging by a thin thread.
Yes, I have seen positive change in my life. Equal rights for all to marry, tolerance for interracial romance and love, but, its not enough. The social media makes sure I know things are a miserable mess.

Should I take it to heart? I don't know. But seeing the pain and fury rising like the flames of Northern California, burning everything to the ground...it's too much.

So, as a writer of love, of fiction, I pretend everything is rosy. I live in my fiction world to escape the terror and violence I can no longer deal with.

Am I alone in retreating behind the lines? Waving a white flag of defeat as everything I have written and produced is stolen? Lives of people are lost out of hate and stupidity?

Probably not. Why do I write about love and happy endings? Because that's what I wish life could be. Happiness. But Happiness is an illusion. What we really do daily is try not to be so unhappy we give up.

A blog. Silly words that people post to vent, share, advertise...
I look back on the decades I have lived. Maybe like most, I feel as if my world has changed. The simpler times have gone. But is that true? No. Only now, we see everything on the computer. All the angst. The hate, the murders, the tragedies.


I can't. I log on, post my links and hide in my fantasy world. I am just one peanut in an overgrown jungle of complexity.
The world is simply too much for me to handle any longer.

But for those of you with the fortitude and power, god-love ya. You have taken the mantle from those of us who are battle weary.

Be careful out there.

It's a jungle.

HATE- The everlasting emotion that never goes away.

Sadly, after a wonderful week of news that seemed hopeful and inspiring, of course the internet social sites are flooded with hate, bullying, harassment, jealousy, and out and out threats and fury.

Am I surprised? No. I wonder about human nature, always have. We are obviously programmed to be...well, what?

Haters? Lovers? Leaders? Followers? Individuals who aspire to make a greater good, or some who get off on anonymous venom? But, maybe this is humankind.

Believe me, I know bullying- it's no stranger to me- Bullied because I am Jewish, a woman, small, write gay erotica, have some success in my career, because I was a cop, when I was a cop...oh, yes. Bullied to the point of no return recently. But brought back to life once more, although I wonder if I should have been.

Can anyone know what it is truly like to live another person's life? No. We can empathize. EMPATHY. What a novel concept.

With the media warring on polar opposites of the right and left, we are bombarded with, hate- fear- ignorance-
is it any wonder its rubbing off? We have a perfect venue for anonymous hate and anger.

Though the internet is a marvel and has done so many wonderful things for us, humans, it has also created an open space for so many evils. Not only hate, but piracy, ID theft, believe me, the list is endless.

Which brings me back to human nature.

When people do kind things, videos go viral as if...OMG! someone did something kind! I can't believe it!

We feed off hate? Do we? Do we get off on demeaning others because our own lives lack in some ways? After the slight feeling of lightness at what was a step towards treating all humans as equals, am I surprised the internet is once again filled with fear and loathing? Sadly, no.

It is what I have come to expect from turning on my computer daily. Taking down illegal downloads of everything I have worked my arse off to create, and watching hate run up and down my computer wall. My answer? I hide in my stories of love. Is it any wonder authors, musicians, poets, artists, create worlds of beauty to sink into?

We obviously are programmed as creatures who enjoy hate- enjoy seeing others in pain- does it make you feel good about yourself? Adding to a miserable commentary to demean and degrade another? I don't find joy in it. I see our species as a whole, and am not very pleased. But, heck, who am I to judge? I will disappear one day, like we all will, be gone from the planet and forgotten in a few years.

What will you be remembered for? What will your contribution be? That you satisfied yourself by lashing out or that you did good by others?

I can only look in the mirror and judge myself. I am no one else's judge. And if you look into a mirror, what do you see?

Be safe out there.
Life can be hell.

The Long Road Home

Yes, it's been a while since I have written a blog post. Maybe I simply had nothing to say, or maybe nothing I felt was relevant.
I'm always surprised that anyone wants to peruse my ramblings- but, then again, maybe some people think looking inside an author's brain, seeing how they tick, is amusing.

Whatever your motivation is for reading this blog, I'm happy you have come for a visit, regardless of the reason.

I could discuss the daily topics that appear on social network walls, some which make my stomach pinch with nausea, but I won't.

I avoid controversy now. Maybe I've become jaded, or simply worn out from the squabbles. I seem to be on the front lines too much. I'm convinced I was a warrior in a previous life, destined to fight. But even the mightiest of soldiers get battle fatigue.

I thought about giving up on writing. After making the two feature films and churning out a book a month to keep an income coming in, I became very ill. I had lost so much weight,(so much, my doctor was furious with me!) and all my strength. So, I curled in bed and tried to work out the demons in my head and figure out where I wanted to go next.

Recently, Kage Alan wrote a blog about how writers must write. You can read his blog here: http://www.kagealan.com/blog/2015/an-authors-obsession-to-write/

Also, after going to Austin to the convention created by Diana Castilleja and Stella Price, I had a chance to hang out with friends, fans, and maybe get inspired to do what I love. Which is, of course, write gay erotica.

Sometimes the war gets tough, as all writers know. For me dealing with illegal downloads of all my work, including my films, seems like a losing battle. Pirates gonna pirate, just as haters gonna hate. I guess these are facts, not myths. But being a former cop, my instinct to battle everything that is wrong in the world kicks in. Guess what? I'm

not superman. I can't fix everything that is fucked up in the world. Lord knows I would love to. But railing, stomping and holding my breath until I turn blue, well, it didn't do much other than make me very skinny.

It's so easy to get bogged down by trolls, thieves, scam artists, bigotry, racism, hatred, anti-police bashing. Sometimes I simply want to vanish into my fantasy world of novels, and pretend the real world is fiction and my love stories are real.

Bennet Pomerantz was kind enough to ask me back to his blog radio show. I do adore him and after talking to him for that half hour, I feel renewed in my hope that things will be okay if I just keep plugging along.

The world seems to conspire against so many of us. I can see it all around me. How many of us are on the front lines in our own life, battling- well, everything from poverty, to ill family members, to being sick themselves, to...name it, its there.

My new 'joke' if you could call it that, is that 'This is Hell'. I, at times, am convinced our day to day living is indeed, hell, and where we go next? I can only hope its better than this!

Where the heck am I going on this blog? Well, The Long Road Home. And for me, that's Mark Richfield.

In my last few books Mark has been hovering around...if you are a fan of his, you may read about his car, his Tuscan TVR, passing in the street in LA, or perhaps his cologne, Dangereux , has been dabbed on a character's skin, or maybe they're driving by his billboards, and take note. Yes, Mark Antonious Richfield has been haunting my work.

It wasn't until I looked back at Saying Goodbye's reviews, that I realized - my fans miss him. And the most ironic part, I miss him.
Yes, when I die, Mark will die as well. But, guess what? I'm not dead yet. At least I think I'm alive. I keep typing novels.

Which brings me to Coming Home- Book 16 in the Action! Series. I'm nearly through with the rough draft, and will hopefully release it in September.

I sometimes wonder why I'm still here-No. Seriously. Why? Not only have I had close calls while serving as a police officer, (I'm convinced there are police angels and so many have saved my sad uniformed-ass- I had them working overtime.) But there are times, spiritually, mentally, and physically, I feel as if I'm already gone.

But I'm still here. Still here to see what's going on around me, either through social networks, or gossip. But for me? Drama is dead.

While I can breathe and type, I will continue to put out my love of MM romance and release it to those amazing fans who keep me going. Yes, they are my heroes. I now know whom to avoid and who will be an ally. Live it- learn it-

And like my creation, Mark Antonious- (I have seen posts about people who despise him. Which is quite hilarious since he isn't real.) But, sorry Mark-haters, he is back. I am back. For how long? No one knows. Do you know your end date to this journey we call life?

The Long Road Home...I'm making my way there. I know one day I will be 'home'. But for now, I'm here for you. To entertain you- to make you laugh or cry, but hopefully to bring out the best in you.

And on one last note. I'm thrilled to have Capital Games being released on TV. In my wildest dreams I never would have imagined living to see that. I owe a thank you to not only OutTV, but to Breaking Glass Pictures. My fans are thrilled, my haters are most likely throwing daggers at me- but sometimes you have to take the few accomplishments in life, and know, they are reasons to be thankful. To be alive.

And I am thankful. Thankful for so many friends and fans who read my work, thankful for those who take the time to post reviews, thankful for emails of encouragement. Because in this short time-span we call life, if you have touched even a few, you have lived.

Be safe out there, it's a very dangerous world.