Monday Mayhem – Vacation – all I ever wanted…

Vacation – I need to get away…

Later this week, I will be on vacation for a few days. That means I’m scrambling to tie up loose ends at both the day job and on the author gig. I’m not taking any work with me. This time I mean it.

Okay, so I’ll have my laptop. And my thumb drive. I do have a galley to proof…I could convert it and put it on my Kindle…There will probably be some airport time…I could use to write a few paragraphs just to make the wait go faster…I’d really like to finish this bit up by the end of the month and the flight is two hours long…I could get a few hundred words in before beverage service begins…

Yeah. Have I mentioned that I’m a bit of a control freak?

How about you? Have you got this relaxation thing covered, or does downtime make you nervous?

See you next week! (If I don’t spontaneously combust…)

Monday Mayhem – Kissy-Kissy Edition

Last week you got my tragic blind date story. Didja like that? Yeah…good story.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and I have a little love story for you. It’s much nicer than the blind-dates-are-hazardous-to-your-health story, I swear. It even comes equipped with a happily ever whatever.

Ready?

In the spring of 1999, Margaret, a spinster from Illinois, went on a business trip to California. Not much of a hook, I know, but get this… She wasn’t supposed to go to that meeting that year. One of her co-workers was scheduled for the trip, but had to bow out. That’s when fate stepped in.

Dun-dun-dun!

Margaret’s business card was pulled from a hat, and she was awarded a trip to yet another conference. Oh, yippee skippee. In the fall of 1999, our heroine boarded a plane bound for Washington, D.C. Over six hundred miles away, a dark eyed man from Little Rock, Arkansas took off in the same direction, and…

Their gazes met across a stuffy conference room in rural Virginia…

They flirted….

There may have been adult beverages consumed…

And a game of Pictionary… (Uh, yeah, that’s what the kids call it these days.)

Some attendees claimed they spotted a couple kissing on the roof…

(Wait. What? You thought Pictionary was code for kissing? No, it’s charades with paper. Kissing is kissing. Sheesh. Have I taught you nothing? Read more smutty books!)

And our heroine said, “Oh, shit.”

True story.

By the end of the week, Margaret knew she had met THE ONE, but she wasn’t exactly ecstatic about it.  

Falling hard and fast for a stranger seven hundred miles away from home was not part of her plan. It was supposed to be a harmless flirtation. Some laughs, a few stolen kisses, a little excitement to break up the monotony of eight hours of seminars each day over the course of five long days.

But, he was so sweet. How could any spinster resist those big, bittersweet chocolate eyes? And the drawl! Not the twangy, annoying kind, but the soft, slow slurring of syllables that was just enough to make a northern girl melt into a puddle of goo….

Margaret knew right away she was in trouble. She also knew that resistance was futile.

On their wedding day, her hairdresser stood her up, but her groom didn’t.

And they lived happily ever after – so long as he continues to provide Route 44 Diet Cokes, crack her up daily, and say sweet things in that slow, southern drawl.

The End

Now it’s your turn to tell me a love story. It can be your love for Nutella or the nut job you married. Either works. Ready? Go!

Oh! And Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope it’s a sweet one!

Monday Mayhem – Frog kissing

Everyone knows you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince. Lord knows I puckered up a few times, but I’m proud to say I never got warts. And I never gave up hope. As Valentine’s Day is still a bit over a week away, I thought I’d share an anti-love story with you this week, and then next week I’ll share my real-life love story.

Sound like a plan? Just a heads up: I’ll be asking about yours too, so start mining the memories…

Because I don’t mind being the subject of your amusement/derision, I am going to give you the sad tale of my one and only blind date.

Let me preface this by reminding you, that I spent many, many years firmly ensconced in my spinsterhood. There were some, uh, dating dry spells. Many, many dating dry spells. This story takes place in the spring just after my first annual 29th birthday, a time so arid I could hear the air around me crackle….

A friend wanted to set me up on a blind date with the really cute new guy in her office. After some none to gentle prodding, I relented, and the numbers were exchanged.

I am sad to tell you that I can’t even remember my date’s name now (it has been more than a dozen years), but the events of that evening are indelibly etched in my mind.

First of all, he lived up to the hype. Hel-lo hottie man!  

After a surreptitious Snoopy dance, we went to dinner at the local Mexican restaurant. The plan was to go to a comedy club for the 9PM show, but we were early, so went to the bar next door to pass the time.

I would love to blame the booze for what happened next, but even I am not that much of a lightweight. Stone cold sober, we were walking the approximately 100 yards from the bar to the comedy club when I tripped.

Over nothing.

Nothing at all.

Did I stumble a little? Did I flail and catch myself? Did my knight in a black leather jacket catch me and press me to his manly chest?

Alas, no.

I took a flying header on the sidewalk just outside of the club, landing on my arm and bouncing my forehead off concrete. The fall itself was so spectacular, that people waiting in line for the club left the line and hurried over to help me up while my date stood staring at the clumsy lump on the ground.
Of course, I was mortified. I brushed myself off, insisting that I was fine and trying to laugh about it. Did I mention it had been a couple of years since I dated?  Yeah…So…The date must go on!

Fighting back tears of pain and humiliation, I excused myself to the ladies room to clean up where I promptly fell apart. The other women in the room, some of whom had witnessed my Chevy Chase pratfall, were sympathetic and consoling. Luckily, many of them worked at the day spa that occupied space in the same strip mall. Cool paper towels were pressed to the growing knot on my head. They whipped out massive cosmetic bags and fixed my face. My hair was combed to cover the lump. Finally, I was handed a cup of ice water and given a gentle shove back out into the lion’s den.

There were three comedians scheduled that night. We laughed along with the crowd, but I noticed that my head wasn’t what was bothering me as much as my growing inability to lift my left arm to applaud. By the time the last guy was finished, I’d also lost my ability to keep up any pretense.

When my date asked if I wanted to go somewhere else, I told him that I really didn’t feel well, and that I thought I should call it a night. Oddly enough, he seemed slightly peeved. Not so strange was the fact that I didn’t care.

My roommate was staying at her boyfriend’s that night, so I called her and sobbed the entire story—leading with the headline, “I think I broke my arm!”

She assured me that it was probably just a sprain and told me I should ice it, elevate it, and if it wasn’t better by morning, she would take me to the emergency room. Since it was already after 1am, I thought that it seemed reasonable. I propped my arm on the extra pillow, plopped an ice pack on it and tried to sleep.

By 6am, I was calling her back and saying, “I’m sorry, but I think I need you to take me to get an x-ray.” We spent a lovely morning hanging out in the waiting room, my arm supported by a makeshift sling created by a chiffon scarf patterned with sailboats which I paddled up the river Denial.

When the x-ray tech told me to turn my arm over for another angle and I almost peed down my leg. Finally convinced that it was indeed broken, I was plastered up, given a prescription for Vicodin, and sent on my merry way. The girlfriend who instigated the set up and my faithful roomie were at my side for the rest of the weekend.

Mr. Blinddateman? Never heard from him again.

When my friend saw him at work the following Monday, she mentioned something about my arm being broken.

His response? “Wow, really? Well, she did fall really hard.” 

My thought? “Luckily, it wasn’t for you.”

The moral of the story?

Blind dates can be hazardous to your health.

Just a reminder.

Okay, your turn! Tell me your worst date scenario. Ready? Go!

Monday Mayhem – Lightning round!

Enough about me, let’s talk about you!

1) How’s your Monday going?

2) What are you wearing?

3) Seen a movie lately? Good? Bad? Ugly? Too many naked people? Not enough naked people?

4) Read any good books? (Not fishing for anything but suggestions to add to my ‘To Be Read’ pile, I swear.)

5) If you could be a shape-shifter, what animal would you be?

6) Tell me the name of at least one of the celebrities who would make your ‘Freebie List’.

7) Quick! A memorable quote! Any quote. Doesn’t have to be verbatim; just something that has lodged in your mind.

8 ) What would your dog name be?

9) If you had to choose the shoes you’d be buried in, which pair currently in your collection would win?

10) Condiments. Beneficial addition to the flavor of our society, or imperialistic sauces hell-bent on camouflaging the evil that lies beneath bun? Discuss.

Happy Monday, my friends. I think you’re awesome regardless of your answer to #10.

Monday Mayhem – Meet Maggie and Tom!!!!

Just in case you haven’t heard me shout it from the rooftops…It’s release day for COMMITMENT!!!

All digital formats are now available – trade paperback coming later this week.

The ebook is only $3.99 at the TMP Bookstore, Amazon, B&N, All Romance eBooks, and Smashwords . Whew! That was a lot of links. I hope I got them all right.

Okay! Let’s talk about Maggie and Tom…

We first met these two in Contentment,  but their story is not truly a sequel. Commitment runs concurrent to Contentment. That’s a fancy way of saying, the timelines overlap. If you’ve read Contentment, you know what’s going on with these two, but you don’t really know how they got there or how it will turn out for them. Well, now you know…

Author true confession #1: I did not read Paramour or Contentment after they were released.

I mean I never sat down (or in my case, crawled into the tub) and read them like I book I just picked up. It’s not that I don’t love the stories or the characters. If you had any idea how real these people are to me, you’d call the men in the white coats. It’s just that by the time a book gets to market, I’ve been through it at least 6 times since I turned it in to my editor. After a while, the words begin to blur.

True confession #2: The first draft of this book took  me a total of 9 months to complete. Getting to the point where I could type ‘The End’ almost killed me.

Those of you who were around when I was writing Commitment know. It was so frustrating. I loved the characters. I loved the story they had to tell. I knew exactly where it was going to go and how I wanted to get them there, but something kept holding me back. I simply could not force the words from my fingertips. Thankfully, I have one of those painfully honest friends who pointed out a few areas she thought I could improve. In other words, she gave me all the reasons why she hated my book. I didn’t agree with her, but the feedback lit a fire under me. I went back in to make a few changes, determined to prove her wrong. Voila! It all clicked. For that, my painfully honest friend will receive extra kisses of gratitude.

True confession #3: I adore Tom and Maggie.

These two crack me up. Their story is much more light-hearted than the one I hung on poor Sean and Tracy. There’s nothing I love more than two snarky people in lust. Or love. Or both. LOVE these two together. I love the steam that rises between them. I think of all the couples I have ever written, Tom and Maggie are the most evenly matched in tone and temperment. That makes their tug-of-war more fun to watch.

True confession #4: I started reading Commitment on my Kindle last night.

I didn’t mean to, honest. I opened the file to re-read the dedication (because I couldn’t remember what I wrote) and thee next thing I knew, Mr. Man was snoring away and I was five chapters in.

True confession #5: In a roundabout way, I may have dedicated this book to myself.

Want to know how?

Buy the book. 

Happy Monday to you all, my friends. I hope your mayhem is marvelous. 

 

Monday Mayhem – Slo-Mo Dream Sequence Edition

It’s Martin Luther King Day here in the States. That means that most government offices, schools and banks are closed, but most of the rest of us are at work. The morning radio personalities were talking about how many people are using MLK Day as a service day—volunteering their day off from work or school at shelters, children’s programs, etc. I think that’s one of the coolest things I’ve ever heard.

Of course, they played parts of Dr. King’s ‘I Have a Dream’ speech. It got me thinking about dreams, both large and small.

We all have them. Our dreams may be for the greater good, or they may focus on personal gratification. Some may be pie in the sky, and some are easily within our grasp. We all chase them. We work through the ins and outs until the impossible seems merely improbable, and the improbable simply a quest to be undertaken.

Need a truth that proves to be self-evident?  Dreams change. The ultimate goal may remain the same, but the path one takes to get there fraught with twists and turns. Our dreams are shaped by experience and circumstance, they’re subject to whim and whimsy, and they can be rooted deep or disappear in a puff of smoke. Don’t worry; another dream will form to take its place.

The good news? We have an unlimited supply of dreams, and each and every one of them is absolutely free. And dreams are forgiving. Like a pair of perfectly worn sweatpants, they are elastic, stretching to fit our needs at that moment and molding to the shape of our life experiences. They expand like that crazy foam stuff my hubby buys at the Home Depot, filling in the cracks in our lives and sealing in our hopes for the future.

Today is THE day to celebrate your dreams—big or small, serious or silly. Today and every day embrace those dreams and chase after them at a full-tilt-boogie.

No one else can catch them for you.

Do you have a dream? Care to share? Go ahead, we’re all friends here.

Monday Mayhem – Begin as you mean to go on…

Did you hear? It’s a new year. Yep, 2012 slipped in while I was sleeping. Sneaky little bugger. Oh well, I’m glad it’s here at last. Not that 2011 didn’t treat me right. I think we can all agree that it did. Even in the end, 2011 kept giving and giving. It was incredible!

Contentment was named Most Memorable Story of 2011 by Another Look Book Reviews, and Paramour made a couple of end of year polls, and was ranked #3 in Top 25 books or series of 2011 by Heather Brewer at Everybody Needs A Little Romance. I’m still a little flabbergasted. The past couple of years have been a whirlwind—of the very best kind.

And now, a fresh new year. It’s hard to believe 2012 is here already. So much to do, so many things to look forward to already! What’s my plan of attack? I will begin as I mean to go on—head-first, full speed ahead, damn the torpedoes, and watch out, here she comes!

There’s tons of good stuff coming our way this year, so here’s a quick rundown from my little corner of the world:

Week of January 23: Commitment from Turquoise Morning Press

 I got cover art – wanna see?

 

Isn’t it pretty? I cannot wait for you to spend a little time with Maggie and Tom. These two are fun, sexy, and oh-so-delicious together. And they’ll be available soon! Squee!

Week of April 23: Spring Chickens from the Wild Rose Press

Oh my goodness, Lynne and Bram. I hope you fall for them as hard as I did. I loved writing this book. I love that this hero and heroine aren’t exactly spring chickens. I love that they fell in love, despite the fact that they can’t see each other clearly when they get up close and personal. Who says presbyopia can’t be sexy?  Certainly not me.

Week of June 4: Inamorata from Turquoise Morning Press

He’s baaaaack! The sexiest ghost ever to be stuck in a 60s-era light fixture is back. I’m editing now and preparing to send this baby off to my editor, but I can tell you that a new family has moved into the Stafford house, and Frank DeLuca seems destined for a new love. That is, if he can let go of the past and learn to trust in the promise of eternity.

(Cover art to come)

Whew! Pretty cool, huh? Well, that’s not all. I’ve been huddling with my editor and publisher about the possibility of finishing out the Long Distance Love series. That’s right; there will be more Jack and Ellie to come! The plan is to combine all of the published stories with five or six new short stories to round the series out and bring them full circle. I’m working on them now, and I can’t help looking at this for inspiration:

I love that cover. It’s sooooo them. Anyhoo – stay tuned for details.

That’s what I have on the docket for now. I plan to start chasing the plot bunnies running around in my head, and hopefully will have a new novel or two completed in this brand-spanking-new year. Perhaps I’m being a little ambitious, but I don’t see the point in aiming low.

Whatever happens, I’m excited for 2012. How about you?

What are you looking forward to in the coming months? Any goals or plans you care to share?  Happy Monday, my friends. Thank you for making 2011 a banner year for me. I wish you and your loved ones a healthy, happy, and prosperous 2012.

Now go out there are kick some ass!