Hey there, stargazers and spell-slingers—Kendra here, and I hope you brought your fairy wings and your sassiest dice set, because today's guest is straight magic.
Let me introduce you to Stefanie Santone: fantasy devourer, D&D enthusiast, mental health warrior, and the brilliant mind behind the Goddesses, Inc. series. Stefanie took one look at reality, gave it a wink, and chose storytelling instead—building whimsical worlds powered by resilience, glitter, and the occasional Sailor Moon fanfic origin story (yes, really).
She’s lived through battles bigger than any villain she could invent—bipolar disorder, anxiety, fibromyalgia—and she’s come out the other side not only still standing, but writing stories filled with wonder, warmth, and women who don’t need to turn into frogs to find their power. You’ll find her wielding a pen like a wand, infusing every tale with wisdom hard-earned and joy defiantly chosen.
So pour the coffee (or hot chocolate—extra marshmallows optional but encouraged), and dive in. Stefanie’s got things to say, secrets to share, and goddesses to unleash.
Let’s do this.
Star Trek or Star Wars?
I was raised on both of them. My first convention was when I was 12—a Star Trek convention. My first, and last, viewing on the big screen theater The Cine Capri was at different “Star Wars” events. It was my favorite theater! It was old-fashioned, a single screen theater, and even had curtains. I loved going there, but it was torn down years ago.
I can’t choose!
A book that pleasantly surprised you?
“Lamb” by Christopher Moore. It’s the story of Jesus as told by his best friend, Biff. It starts from when they’re both 6 and goes until the Crucifixion and a little past. You laugh a lot, you cry a lot, and you have to be really okay with swearing.
Coffee, tea, or cacao?
You can pry my coffee from my cold dead hands. But I won’t ever say no to a cup of tea or hot chocolate.
When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?
I was 13 and Star Wars was huge. It had been released in 1995 on VHS and I watched all three until the tapes wore out. I started to write an epic space opera, just like Star Wars. A little too like Star Wars. I was mocked by some peers for wanting to write so I stopped. However, the seed was planted and I would get a push by my Dad a couple of years later to write Sailor Moon fanfiction, of all things. I knew when I was 13, it was a couple of years later that it was cemented in my mind that I was going to do it.
What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
I love to play Dungeon & Dragons! It’s a great way of creating new stories and characters without any real high stakes. Maybe your Dungeon Master’s wrath, but not much else. I read, of course, and I like to play chill video games like Stardew Valley.
Is there a trope you find yourself going back to in multiple works? Or one you avoid?
A few of them. Time travel and immortality for my writing. I don’t explore time travel in “Tangled Magic,” but it is so much fun to play around with. Immortality, however, is something that I bring up in “Tangled Magic” and in other works I’ve written in the past. But I’m always looking at it in new light. Is it good or bad? Does forced immortality make it different, such as vampires who are made that way and even demons who are born that way? I’m also a sucker for a good enemy to lovers’ story, but terrible at writing them.
What does your family think of your writing?
I am so lucky. My family is more supportive than I have words for. Since day one I have felt that someone had my back and was helping me hold my pen on days when it was too heavy. My mom has probably been my greatest cheerleader. I know I’m lucky, and I’m grateful for it.
Who shot first, Han or Greedo?
I was so mad about that edit. Han!
If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?
“You’re going to do it, Stef.” Even coming from my own mouth I probably wouldn’t believe it, but it would have given me hope.
What is your writing Kryptonite?
My own mental or physical health. I have several conditions including anxiety and fibromyalgia. The first can leave me crying and in a self-made panic. The second is a physical illness that causes me to limp and massage my hands on good days or be in bed on the worst. When either one of those is really acting up, I can’t write, or do much else productive, either.
What is the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything?
42, of course. Also, be kind.
What is your work schedule like when you’re writing?
I try and have a routine every day, and that doesn’t change when I’m writing. Except that sometimes I get into the ‘zone’ where I write past my normal stop time. Also when I’m up late writing. There’s also when I wake up in the middle of the night to jot things down. Come to think of it, when I’m writing, I am always adding things when I least expect it.
What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your books?
Viking women were allowed to initiate a divorce and had some surprising rights for a culture with an image for pillaging and plundering.
Do you have any suggestions to help someone become a better writer? If so, what are they?
Never give up and keep practicing. Write for fun, write for work or school. Just write and you will get better. Read books, watch movies or the stage. They will help you understand the dynamics of plot and characters that are needed. Go to your local library and look for their ‘writer in resident’ and if they don’t have one – put in a request that they get one. Never give up.
As a child, what did you want to do when you grew up?
A doctor. My grandmother was a nurse and one time I said I wanted to be that, and she told me to do the extra school and be a doctor, so I listened. Until I started writing, then it was ‘author’ the whole way.
What do you have coming next?
Next? I have a short story being published in an anthology by On The Wings for Writers! It takes place during the book from another characters point of view. It’s an extra scene, not an alternate view of a scene. After that is the currently untitled book 2 of Goddesses, Inc., which I am writing right now, with the hope that it will be out next summer.
OH! And she brought presents! Stefanie Santone has gifted us with a tantalizing excerpt from Tangled Magic—and trust me, you don’t want to miss it. So pour another cup of coffee (or tea, or cacao—you do you), settle in, and keep reading to catch a glimpse of the glitter, chaos, and pure heart that fuels her story.
While you're at it, go show her some love and follow her here:
🌐 Website: stefaniesantone.com
🛍️ Shop: shop.stefaniesantone.com
📸 Instagram: @stefaniesantone
📘 Facebook: @stefaniesantone
☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/stefaniesantone
Because magic doesn’t make itself, and neither do stories this powerful. 💫
It was past dinner time before the goddesses, Isa, and I said goodnight. I dropped Isa at her car and then continued on north to my house. There were no streetlights after I left and without a moon, I put the brights on.
I loved to drive and mull over events, but night in Cora Alma was not the time to do this. I took the mountain path slowly but fast enough so no one would run me off the road. Tonight, a fog lingered low on the ground, hindering my view. This time of year was typically too warm for fog.
Damn, it was so hard to see.
That’s why when the elk came into view, I had no time to brake. Cold horror flooding my veins, I gasped loudly and waited for the impact. I still slammed on the brakes by instinct, because this was going to be horrible.
It didn’t come.
Bessie came to a screeching halt on the side of the road, but the elk wasn’t in front of me, or anywhere nearby. I glanced around frantically to find a man sitting next to me.
Screaming, I then cried out, “Who are you?” while reaching for my seat belt.
I hadn’t heard the door. Hell, as I opened mine, I heard a click of the door unlocking. But there was no time to wonder about my hearing, because the door suddenly shut and my seatbelt came around me again, clicking into place.
Magic.
I stared, slack-jawed, at my ‘visitor,’ who calmly, patiently stared back at me.
He was tall, lean, and easily over six foot. His blond hair curled along the nape of his neck, perfectly long and well-groomed. His hazel eyes were haunted, but there was a dangerous sort of mirth in them. Something I did not want to test.
“Hello, Aspen.” His voice slithered around me and I shivered. “It’s so nice to meet you at last. I’m Loki.”
Maybe he thought telling me who he was would calm me down.
Though he had unleashed his children on Asgard killing them, the gods, and himself at the same time.
So, I screamed.
“Well, you’ve heard of me,” he said as I took in a breath for the next round. “Ah, stop stop stop!” he yelled while simultaneously putting his hand over my mouth to muffle me. When I stopped for a moment, he pulled his hand back, a look of relief washing over his face.
I put my gut into screaming, desperately trying to think of an actual plan. Once again, his hand clapped over my mouth. I tried to bite him and he pulled back, which only made me keep screaming. Trying my door again, I found it jammed.
It was dark. No one was passing by and no one would know I was missing until the morning. What did he want? To kill me? To torture me for information I didn’t have? Or something I couldn’t even fathom?
“If you stop screaming, I’ll tell you why I’m here!” The pleading in his voice wasn’t lost on me and I will admit to taking some pleasure in that now. How often does a girl get a god to plead with her?
Listening, or pretending to would give me more time to cultivate a plan of escape. The picture the goddesses painted of him didn’t give me much hope. After all, he was holding a stranger captive. I had been willing to give him a chance.
Congratulations on blowing that, Loki.
“You’re feisty.” He chortled, far more amused than I think a killer god should be. I continued glaring at him and opened my mouth.
“You said you’d tell me—”
“I will. Drive.”
Excuse me? I puffed up, trying to look taller than him. Because we all know supreme beings are like bears.
“Why would I—”
“Drive, or I will drive for you,” Loki threatened. There was an edge to his voice that caused the hair on my arms to stand up. My legs shook, but I planted my feet firmly on the mat below me and crossed my arms.
“Who do you think you are?” I ignored his question and stared daggers at him, using my anger and terror to keep up my bravado. He changed the question. “What goddess do you think you used to be?”
My back hurt from the tension, but I sealed my lips, barely able to stop myself from trembling visibly. I don’t think it fully worked, but I was determined to not give him even a iota of information after he frightened me and ordered me around.
He smirked, which pulled slightly more at his right than his left, giving him a slanted look. “Obviously not Fulla.”
I jerked my head slightly in shock, trying to recover quickly. How did he know? “Obviously.” I kept my tone clipped.
“Are you going to drive?”
I swallowed and didn’t let my voice squeak or shake. “I will once you get out.”
Chuckling at my defiance, Loki flicked his fingers, purple lightning dancing off of them. The car lurched forward. I grabbed the purple-glowing steering wheel, trying to take control back, but it glided perfectly back into the lane.
I continued to gape at the steering wheel as it turned, before turning back at the smirking jerk, then back at the wheel. It straightened and then turned a bit. A perfect curve.
“What kind of magic is that?”
He snapped his fingers and a small sprout of purple fire ignited. “A location spell mixed with a bit of telekinesis. I don’t need an object or rune to cast it.”
“Why not? The others have used runes.” I remembered the carved wood that Eir had used to trap the fae and save my ass.
“Maybe I’m stronger than them.”
“I take it humbleness wasn’t an Asgardian trait. Hey!” I yelled as we passed the turnoff to my home. “That’s my house!”
“I know,” the ever-so-humble god said, continuing to drive the car north.
In this time, I came up with exactly zero escape plans. Jumping out wasn’t an option, and the creep also knew where I lived. I could try to smash a window, but he would be able to stop me before I did it.
“Then who, dear, who?”
“Are you also an owl in your spare time?”
Oooh, good burn there, Aspen. You really showed him your wit and strength. Say something about his mother next.