I wanna go to rehab

Sure. Why not?

No interruptions. Meals I don't have to cook. A nice quiet place to lay my weary head. Staff that will talk to me and not give me hell for mismatching their socks. No homework. No worries if my van will have a flat at the most inopportune moment.

And the pricey places give massages and gourmet meals. *swoon*
Yeah.
I wanna go to rehab. *grins*

Last night was quite an eye-opener. Had to actually go henceforth to our cellar so as not to be swept away like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. We were thisclose to a tornado. Rotation. But didn't touch down. A bit spooky. Baby chicken was upset about the whole ordeal. And I, just for a moment, almost had a panic attack when I couldn't help but think...Holy shit. If I have to start over with nothing again, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown...
But then the Mama gene kicked in, and I was good.
The tornado literally breezed by overhead. But no funnel formed. So no spinning on the house. Good deal.
Because the Lollipop Kids get on my nerves.
Grins*

The Sex Talk

I've done been over the birds and the bees with the oldest. I had planned to talk to my middle one this last summer. But she persisted in making herself scarce at every opportune moment.
Last night, it was her turn to sleep with me, and I casually rolled over and said:
Me: So. When are we going to have our little talk?
MC: *doesn't even PRETEND ignorance* Don't want to.
Me: You know that we were supposed to talk about it this last summer. You missed yours.
MC: I know. And I appreciate that.
*silence*
Me: Do you think your friends are going to fill you in?
MC: NO!
Me: You think that information is just going to filter through the air and into your brain?
MC: No.
Me: Who's going to tell you?
MC: Nature.
Me: *not knowing whether to laugh or curse*
*silence*
Me: We are going to have that talk. Being informed is the best thing.
*MC rolling over and facing her ass toward me*
Me: Um...are we done?
MC: Yes.
Me: Are you ignoring me?
MC: Yes.
Me: Goodnight, sugar.
MC: Night, Mom.
*silence*
Me: And yes. We ARE going to have that talk.

Grins*

When the words won't come

And for that writing post I promised ya...

I have a slow start, bookwise, the beginning of this year. Summer through the end of the year picks up considerably.
Just contracted a short story for Torrid's Summer Solstice Scorchers. The title is "Conjuring Cade." More details and a blurb as I um...throw them together. *grins*
I'll have two reviews and an ad in July's Romantic Times Magazine. They gave What He Wants four stars in their February 2007 issue. How exciting!
(You know...you always have that nailbiting experience when someone reviews your work. Thank God that all worked out all right.)
The two reviews will be for Perfect Timing and The Portrait. Perfect Timing is my Time Travel Romance. The Portrait is a Paranormal Romance.

I am VERY much looking forward to my Torrid Teasers due out in August by my naughtier (but not much) self...C'ann Inman. The titles are "Moon Goddess" and "Sun Goddess." They will be available only in eprint. But oh man! They are delicious stories. Full of humor and sensuality.
I'll add more about that later, also.
July brings out Fire Goddess. That is Book 1 in my Guardian series. The rest: Water Goddess, Wind Goddess, and Earth Goddess will release every five months after.
November brings Programmed for Pleasure. And yes, it's a Torrid title. How did you guess? LMAO
Next year will see my first Fantasy Romance...One Enchanted Evening. My longest piece I've written. And the one I wrote in a month. Flat. It rather poured itself out onto the keyboard. Wish they were all like that.

More details as the months continue to fly by. I'm working on another short story for Torrid due out in October. Must have it finished by the middle of May.
And that's about it. For now.
Have a great weekend!!!
Grins*

Emperor's New Groove

There are several parts of this movie that were laugh aloud funny. And two that stand out in particular are when Eazma and Krunk ride the roller coaster down to the secret lab. *insert visual of Eazma smoothing down her feathered plume after she licks her hand* OMG.
And the other one? When Krunk screws up the poisonous drinks and is trying to tell Eazma DON'T DRINK THE WINE...POISON. And he makes that little chopping motion with his hand towards his throat.
Hilarious.

What is not so hilarious is what I'm afraid to eat these days. Fresh spinach salad consumption? Down. Hamburger? Down. Peanut butter? None in my cupboards. Seems like every time I turn around...something is hazardous to my health.
Meat. Veggies. Nothing is safe. And that worries me.

Shall I shun the modern world and go Amish? Nah. But I'm extremely careful with my edibles. And that makes me wonder. What has all this food recalled done to you and your grocery shopping? Made a difference? Not?

I'll post momentarily about writing and all that good stuff. But I'm curious about this.
Grins*

Shifted In Death

I read the new JD Robb book "Innocent in Death." And here's what happened...not the plot, mind you...the mindset.
I didn't give a damn who got murdered. I didn't care who did it. I read the book because there was trouble in paradise with Roarke and Eve.
And God! Doesn't that make for great copy???

I totally shifted the perception from Murder Solving to Relationship Issues. And it works for me. I read the last one in the series and was thankful that Mavis finally had her baby. Yay! I've been waiting forever.
Do I remember who died? Whodunit?
Nope. Not a damn detail.
But I do know that I laughed my ass off at the tweaked out Eve and Roarke over the whole baby thing. Good stuff.

*shrug*
I suppose a romance writer always looks for that. I do, anyway. I remember being so damn mad after reading Ivanhoe that he didn't end up with who I wanted him to end up with. And this was DECADES ago.
"The Scarlet Pimpernel" is one of my all-time favorite books. It's historical. But I, quite honestly, didn't pay much attention to that. Because the romance plot ROCKED!!!

So there you are. I'm a sucker for romance. Its facets. All the ins and outs. And if you want to kill someone or have a fight...go for it. But don't expect me to remember any of that.
I read for the romance.
Grins*

Yeah. That's me. Okay. Except for the "waif" part. LOL

My favorite search phrase to get to this blog EVAH:

boss spunky seductress librarian waif free spirit

Back to your regularly scheduled reading.

Grins*

Are you kidding me?

We've been closed to the public this last week. New flooring and whatnot. By the way, looks good.
Anyway...what is it with people who walked through the doors, past the "We're closed" signs, and stepped over the workers to get inside here?
Seriously.

Why is it that people will NOT see what's right in front of them? Or choose not to? I would like to know. Because it confuses the hell out of me. And it's irritating beyond all measure.

A little FYI: You are NOT special. We're closed means just that. *ahem* WE ARE CLOSED. Yes. Look at the dozen men on their hands and knees putting in flooring. Yes. Look at their tools scattered all over the ground like little land mines on your way to the Promised Land (my front door). Yes. Look at the very irritated look on my face as I curse your ancestors mentally.
WE ARE FLIPPING CLOSED.
Have some respect. Read a sign or two. And for Pete's sake...WE'RE CLOSED!!!
*eye roll*

Pros and cons

Writing, as in everything, has its up and downs. Pros and cons.
Here are a few of my thoughts on the matter.

Pros:
I love it
Making other people (albeit fiction people) do my bidding...rocks!
There's always a happy ending
Fan letters
Bestseller lists
Name recognition

Cons:
Redoing my damn web page. (Yes. This IS a pet peeve. I need enough cash flow to pay someone to torture themselves with html and jpg. *sigh* That is SO not my forte. Nor do I wish it to be.)
Pressure. (Yes. Usually my own. The self-imposed GOTTA GOTTA GOTTA I give myself.)
The sagging middle. pffffffffffftttttttttt
Redoing my damn web page. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Synopsis
Squeezing a blurb into fifty words

And you?
Which is magic? Which is mayhem?
Grins*

Own it

Writers can sometimes be reticent with saying that they are, indeed, writers. When I applied for a library card at a small library, it asked for occupation. And I, boldly, wrote down "writer."
And it was rather freeing.

A young man looked me up the other day because he knew I wrote. Asked me some questions about what he was writing. Asked about resources he could look at. And then he says, almost bashfully, I'm a writer. Followed closely by...well, not really...I just write.
I l0oked at him for second and then said...
"Own it. You do not simply "write." You ARE a writer. Don't dismiss it. Don't shove it under the rug. Own it. Because it's who you are. No matter if you publish or not. No matter if no one but you ever reads your work. You. Are. A. Writer. OWN IT!"
He looked at me rather surprised (unused to my bluntness and um...stubborness), but then he smiled. And I knew I made my point.

What is the difference between Nora Roberts and I? We both like Diet Pepsi. We both write romance.
The difference is in the scope. Me=a little fish. She=a big fish.
But we're both writers.

The difference between this young man and I? We both write. We both live in the same town.
Me=progressing down the published road. He=just starting out.
But we're both writers.

Writing is a rocky path. A path with pitfalls and jubilation. Highs and lows so dizzying that we should probably all be on medication. But it's the path we choose. The path we love. The path that is meant for us. Our souls cry out for us.
Don't deny it.

OWN IT
Grins*

Writers are needy creatures

First, let me clear this up...Bryan, you are so droll. Truly.
Wish that it would have happened like that. But, alas, it's not to be.
Some facets of my life seriously inhale right now.

On with the show...

I've already confessed, many times, my issue with numbers. I must check numbers. See if they've gone up. Gone down (God forbid). Just checking what the blazes is going on with them.
Because numbers, in my mind, are a barometer of my work.
I've received a few fan letters (WHICH I LOVED!!!) from readers. But I usually receive most of my feedback from numbers.

Are any of my books in the Top Ten Hot Titles for either publisher? Did I make the Top Ten Bestsellers for the month? How am I doing on Fictionwise? Who rated my book Excellent or merely OK?
I gotta know.

Writers for the most part are solitary creatures. I'm one of those. And these words that come from me are the creative part of me reaching out to others. Did four more people rate What He Wants on Fictionwise? BANZAI!!! Excellent news.
How far have my other titles slipped? Isn't it amazing that The Portrait is moving back up the ranks?

Numbers, my friends. Numbers.

I need for my words, through my writing, to touch others. To laugh. To snort. To cry. To affect some part of their day. Their mood. I need it like I need the Diet Pepsi. Because then, and only then, will these words wrap around someone else's head and find a home.
Just a few keystrokes on the board. A few thoughts blended together. But a symbiotic relationship that affects us both.
Writer and reader. Moving in tandem toward a happy place in the story. One guiding. One trusting. But both hoping that the end will bring forth a satisfying conclusion.
Powerful and pleasing.
What a wonderful job.
Grins*

Where's Crystal???