About Caleb Pascual

Caleb Pascual writes love stories for people who have quietly stopped expecting one, and then hands them a happy ending anyway.

He writes about men who fall for men. Warm, funny, open-door, and built on a belief he has never quite managed to shake: that a love story can be tender and hot at the same time, and that anyone who says otherwise has never read a good one.

For 10 years he worked a corporate job he was good at and never once loved, stealing paragraphs on commuter trains and finishing sentences at one in the morning. When the layoff finally came, everyone around him treated it as bad news. He treated it as a door swinging open, sat down, and finally finished the book he had spent a suspiciously long time not writing. He has written full time ever since, which is a polite way of saying he works in the gap between the first pot of coffee and the second, with Henry the cat asleep on the keyboard and, by his own generous estimate, responsible for at least one entire subplot.

He is, by his own cheerful admission, a hopeless romantic. He believes in grand gestures, in second chances, and in the particular look two people give each other across a crowded room half a second before everything changes. He does not write tragedy. He has read enough of the real thing.

His stories all unfold in one invented coastal town, because he likes the idea of a place where everybody knows your name and somebody is always falling in love at the next table.

The pen name is deliberate. He would rather the books did the talking, and there is something freeing about being known only through the worlds he builds. He still reads every message, though, and answers most of them, usually with Henry supervising from the desk.