I remember my first kiss as being wet and disturbing. I remember thinking, I’m not ready for whatever this is. I was fourteen.
Recently, Miranda Baxter experienced her first kiss. She is seventeen, and because of her leukemia, has missed out on much of what teenagers take for granted. Then comes the cure, which is worse than the disease and she realizes that being alive is not the same as living. Now in the middle of the alien invasion of earth she wants that kiss.
Riley, too, having been raised as a mutant on board an alien spacecraft, has also missed out on so much. The kiss means something to these two terrified kids. It matters.
As a writer I have to reach into my past and pull that kiss out of somewhere. So I draw on my own experience. I write a moving scene and I read it to one of my writing buddies, Marianne. Marianne’s eyes get red and she glares at me. “That is sad,” she scolds. “A first kiss is about hope.”
“Hope?” I say, then nod. That may not always be true, but it should be true, and I am the author, the local tyrant in control of my world. I can distribute hope. So I go back to work and this time, I hit pay dirt. At least I didn’t make Marianne cry.

Here is an excerpt from Mutant: Miranda’s first kiss. I hope you enjoy.

He cocked his head, then gave a nod. “Yes, I like it.” Cautiously he leaned forward and he pressed his warm lips to mine. He held his mouth there and then as if guided by some instinct or curiosity, he pressed just a little harder. It was my first kiss and it was gentle and soft and it melted something cold inside of me.
The lab door clicked open and I pulled back, still looking into his eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered. Maybe I’d never wear those shoes, but I’d had this. At least I had this.
Together we turned to face our enemy.