It became crystal clear to me after sampling several popular movies in these genres that most "tough" women, the bad-ass women, the ones that didn't need men to save them, were colored with a different color pen. Virtuous girls, the girls that these hot macho men couldn't resist, always defaulted to the victim who needed saving because they were too "good" to save themselves. (Queen of these useless babes was Kelly Lynch's character in Road House. ICK... and no.)
Granted, these were bubblegum movies that didn't necessarily need to have a point. They were written by men for men, defaulting time and again to the patriarchal socialization we all share, whether we like it or not.
It was, and still is, a sticking point for me.
This imbalance influenced me so strongly that it bled into my first full-length novel, which I began in 1989. Many of you already know how the idea came to me. I was 19 years old and living out of my car in Los Angeles. "Welcome to the Jungle" came on the radio and I began to see it in terms of a story. Of course there would be an innocent teenager, and of course she would wind up on the mean streets of Hollywood. And of course, a noble biker, a tough anti-hero, would ride to her rescue. (Another major Dan influence.)
And then it hit me...
Who said that biker had to be a man?
Thus, M.J. Bennett was born. In truth, she's the daughter Dan and I never had. She's fearless and tough as nails, like him. And she's devoted and loyal and refuses to back down from a fight... like me. M.J. knows who she is and what she can do, and she does it all without apology.
It's taken me 26 years to fully bring this complicated character to life. Things have changed a lot in the meantime. We now have some badass female characters everywhere we look, on TV and in the movies. Writers like Joss Whedon bravely embarked on this exciting new frontier as early as the 1990s, which paved the way for heroines like Katniss Everdeen. Tomorrow, at long last, M.J. joins the ranks of some badass lady characters who have changed the way we see women. I couldn't be prouder or love her any more.
Here's a sneak peek of what's to come, with the first confrontation between M.J. and Dominic Isbecky, the man she suspects is behind the brutal murders of underage sex workers.
Get your 1-Click fingers primed and ready. #mjisalmosthere!
They reached the door to his office and he shoved her inside. He locked the door, lowered the lights, and kicked on the sound system with the touch of a button. “Make yourself comfortable, Miss Bennett.”
He assumed his position behind his desk, so she walked to one of the chairs on the other side. She flopped down and kicked her boots up on his expensive ebony desk. He immediately scowled, which made her smile. “You wanted me here and I’m here. So what’s up, buttercup?”
“You’ve been interfering with my business, Miss Bennett. And I don’t take kindly to that.”
“I don’t take kindly to your business,” she told him bluntly.
He leaned across his desk. “Too bad there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it,” he said. “Slick operates as a legitimate business. According to the law, and a litany of lawmakers, I am above reproach.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Even the second floor?”
“The second floor is not part of Slick. It includes private residential quarters for a few close friends. And I am a man who takes care of his friends.”
“Unless they’re female and underage, right?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t make a practice of hanging out with underage girls. But I’m sure you can tell me all about it. How is your young friend from the alley?”
It was her turn to shrug. “Dunno. Got her on a bus and got her the hell out of here the very night I met her. Just like I’ve done for at least two other girls who’ve spent time within these hallowed walls.”
He chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. “It’s amusing that you think I don’t know.”
“I figured you knew,” she corrected. “Come on. A smart guy like you? You just never cared until now. Which makes me even more curious why you’d care about this last girl at all. She was on the streets for a day, so she couldn’t have been one of yours. Unless it was some initiation gone awry,” she added, scouring his face for any tell. He was stoic, and his smile never changed. M.J. stood from the chair and sauntered around his office, taking in the details of his décor. “So of course I have to ask myself what makes this girl different. Why is she suddenly so important?”
She stopped in front of his marble chessboard. Dominic watched as she studied the pieces thoughtfully. Finally she reached down and moved a piece before turning toward the window.
It took a minute or two, but finally Dominic slid from his chair and walked over to the chess board. He spotted her move almost immediately, as this particular game had been at a stalemate with his latest opponent. He grinned as he took the piece with ease. “It’s amazing what one day can do,” he commented. “Just one day in this jungle and that pristine young girl will be a tatted-out junkie giving blowjobs at chain restaurants near freeway on-ramps. Call me a romantic, but I thought I could help.”
“Help,” she repeated. “That’s a nice word for it. Do you have an upstairs room set aside for her, too?” His eyes glittered, and he let the comment slide. She glanced down at the chessboard. Within a minute or two, she made another move. Again, he took it with ease.
“But you were right about one thing,” she said. “A lot can happen in a day, an hour . . . or even a minute.” She quickly moved the knight into position. “It can even dethrone a king.” Her eyes met his. “Checkmate.”
There was a flash of irritation in his eyes and the barest hint of a scowl as he realized what she had done. She had set a trap that he had overlooked, simply because her original move had been so easily conquered. He scanned the pieces on the board to figure out how she had unlocked a previously unwinnable game so quickly. He crossed his arms and stared at her, trying to figure her out. Was this another game? Another trap?
If so, he had to sniff out her vulnerabilities. Where were her weaknesses? What mattered to M.J. Bennett?
She made her way to the door, and he crossed the two feet between them. “Impressive,” he said softly. “But no matter how clever you think you are, if you are hiding this girl here in Los Angeles, I will find her.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “We have unfinished business, and I am a stickler for loose ends. That means no matter where you send her, I can find her.”
Her eyes gave nothing away as she stared back at him. Finally he bent forward. “The same way I’ll always be able to find you.” He sniffed the air around her. “I’ve got your scent now, Miss Bennett. Believe me when I tell you that you don’t want me on this hunt. I won’t stop until I take it all.” His hand slid down the side of her face to grab her throat. The tighter his grip became, the bigger his smile grew. “Think about that the next time you put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
She broke the hold easily, almost too easily. He laughed. “You entertain me, Miss Bennett. Such fire,” he murmured, touching the wild red curls that fell over her shoulders. “Now that I’ve met you, I might even consider a trade.”
“Bad move for your business,” she replied.
He stepped closer. “And why’s that?”
Her voice was smooth as silk. “Your clients can’t afford me.”
He trailed a finger along her arm and over her chest, just above the lace trim of her shirt. “And how much are you worth, M.J.?”
“I’m priceless, motherfucker,” she answered, her hand landing on the button on the side panel that controlled the door. It unlocked with an audible click.
He made no move to stop her as she left his office. But he followed her, and stood, arms crossed, at the end of the hallway and watched her depart, ensuring that the mysteries of his private rooms remained undetected by the meddlesome troublemaker. He didn’t go back into to his office until she had disappeared from sight.
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