Jeni Lynn was born on Triton, Earth year 2132. She’s a Scorpio. Well, okay, not really, except for the last part. But she can dream. She’s worked as a journalist, editor, news photographer, photo director, and communications specialist. She’s covered almost every topic in these roles, most recently technology, cybersecurity, and, luckily, new tech at NASA. That last part has led her to a new chapter: writing futuristic romance.
Her first novel is set in 2172 in Bel-Air, California. When she’s not writing or traveling to outer space, she’s in Los Angeles, learning to needlepoint, trying to figure out how to grow the best vegetables – fruits are easier – and hanging with her rescue dogs.
Bel-Air Confidential was a finalist in the 2025 Pacific Northwest Writers Association's Unpublished Writing Contest
A surprising number of famous pink resorts can be found around the world. Many stories exist why they’re pink, ranging from pink being fashionable when they were built—Art Deco, Mid-Century, Spanish Revival—or their builder came from a country where pink was popular or the builder saw the color’s elegance elsewhere and wanted to emulate it. I personally suspect that each builder felt pink would encourage a feeling of lightness and happiness, or they just simply knew that they and their guests would feel good when they surrounded themselves with pink.
After Bel-Air Confidential, the first in the Confidential Series, the following books will travel to other famous pink princesses. Stay tuned to see which will be next.
These are the pink resorts that I know about:
When you use a traditional publisher, you loose a lot of control, including the rights to your book. Even though it was a big learning process, today’s tools as well as the easy access to professionals, such as artists, editors, and cover designers, make it possible and a heck of a lot of fun to create a book. It helped that over the years I’ve worked with many graphic designers, and as an editor and proofreader, and laid out newspapers—one of my first jobs was laying out the comic section for a newspaper—and magazines. Figuring out the other parts of building a book for me didn’t require a new skill set.
Another reason was the agents who were interested in representing me wanted me to cut a lot of words—some wanted me to shave off 40,000 words—because the traditional route dictates shorter is better, at least for new authors.
I also have some significant heart issues, including hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, that at times require that I rest. Having worked on deadline for many years, I knew it would have been too much pressure to adhere to someone else’s timeline or schedule.
I’ve always liked pink, even when pink wasn’t fashionable. To me, pink symbolizes independence. My grandmother’s best friend, Ruthie, loved pink. Looking back when, as a little girl, I would visit Ruthie in her all-pink apartment, I realized that you don’t have to pay attention to what other people think or follow the latest trends. Ruthie didn’t and she was a wonderful lady. She showed me that a person can do whatever they want, including live in an all-pink apartment.
I believe we will make our planet and universe better in the future. We are already working to solve so many issues and significant problems. I like thinking about how much better our universe will be. Sure, there will always be greedy, evil people, but I also believe in humanity’s innate goodness.
I’ve always been fascinated by space, humanity’s exploration, and discoveries. I became hooked on science fiction when I was little and read all the classics. Then, when writing for an international tech company, I was privileged to interview engineers and scientists at NASA and visit several NASA bases. Los Angeles, where I live, also contains a big space community. It’s not unusual to run into people who work at JPL, SpaceX, Space Force, or a space-focused start-up. In fact, at least one-fifth of the people who went to the moon before the Artemis II launch were from California, and Victor Glover, who’s from So Cal, was Artemis II’s pilot.
Today we’re living in a Space Renaissance. So much has happened in the last sixty years, starting with humanity’s first presence on the moon to our current race to colonize the Moon and Mars. The images returning from space—from Mars and the Moon, and through all the different telescopes, like James Webb, are giving us mind-blowing views, such as a Martian sunrise. How beautiful is that?
I grew up near Bel-Air, which is in Los Angeles, Calif. Not the part where the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air lived, but in the other, lesser known part. The part filled with small California ranch homes and families who didn’t travel round the world and shop in Beverly Hills. The part nestled in the Santa Monica Mountains where wild creatures, such as mountain lions, deer, and skunks roam, and that had space to dig in the dirt, grow zucchini in the summer, and play with the neighborhood kids.
To get to our house, we’d pass what I called the wealthy part of Bel-Air and its mansions, many hidden behind huge gates and pillars topped with eagles and lions. I’d look at the gates and wonder, what was behind them? Who lived there? Were they happy or sad? Were they in love? And I would write stories about them in my head.
It made sense to start the Confidential Series with the Hotel Bel-Air. It’s one of the world’s more glamorous pink resorts, a secluded place full of history of the famous and elite, while nearby government space organizations, such as the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and Space Force, along with start-ups and corporations work to build the infrastructure needed for exploration and life among the stars.
My family also has a long history with the area. My great grandparents lived nearby on Sunset Boulevard. My great aunt and her friends used to rent horses from the stables that operated where the hotel now sits and ride to the Pacific Ocean for tea. (The riding ring is now the swimming pool.) My great-grandfather displayed his prize roses in the local garden club’s shows, which took place at the site that later became the hotel. I have a picture of my mother dressed as a Dutch girl for one of the shows. Once the hotel opened, my family would visit for meals, and occasionally the hotel’s swans would chase my cousins when they crept too close. Hidden in one of the biggest cities in the world, only those in the know understand the magic of the Hotel Bel-Air.
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