Flotsam & Jetsam

What set Ellie off anyway? A thought intruded. No, couldn’t be. He checked her profile. Nah. But his mouth formed a hopeful smile, and he leaned back, humming his favorite tune. Flotsam & Jetsam

The dashing Frenchman or the handsome handyman? Who will she choose? For the Love of a Spy

Friday, November 18, 2011

Backlist Excitement: Read about Lost in His Arms and Lost & Found

You can get a refresher course in my first two romantic suspense novels at Talking Two Lips today: Leave a comment here if you do.

Free Read: 1st Chapter of Triptych

Come read the first chapter of my new release from Secret Cravings, Triptych, a tale of three sisters, their three lovers, and three spirits guarding a dangerous river—at D. Renee Bagby’s great site:

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Two more interviews

At Marketing for Romance Writers Authors blog--tell me about your writing routines and how I can improve mine J.

And stop by Linda Andrews’ marvelous site Paranormal Journey  to read a rather unique interview. Linda asks some interesting questions that caught me by surprise. Leave a comment!

The Storm Goddess & Me

Stop by and visit Nikki Barrett’s wonderful site Storm Goddess Book Reviews to read my thoughts on research and the writer’s life. Trust me, this one is different.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Reaction to disaster

I recently went through a horrendous experience--my house was flooded and I was evacuated in waist-high water. My finished basement, full of photo albums and heirloom furniture, was destroyed. I spent two months cleaning, replacing, fixing.  As a single woman in a new neighborhood I often felt overwhelmed and alone.  I wondered why my close friends and relatives didn't swarm around, helping. I could manage, and had plenty of volunteer help, but I couldn't help but wonder, what kept my close friends away? I knew them as warm, caring, helpful people. Why weren't they underfoot?
   This is my hypothesis. (1) No one had a clue just how awful the situation was. Here in the U.S. our catastrophes are manageable generally, something to be proud of. But it means we aren't familiar with them. (2) we're jaded by media hype.  We all know that the TV crew hones in on the one corner that's flooded, sliding over the parts that are perfectly fine in order to gain the maximum drama. As a result, most of us don't believe the reports of massive flooding etc. I think we've become so cynical that many presume the fat broad with partially permed hair standing in a puddle is a shill. "(Edith, I swear that's the same woman they interviewed after the tornado in Oklahoma").
    I guess you could say it's a tribute to how great this country is. Or have we lost something?

Interviewed at MFRW--Secrets Revealed!

Come visit me at Marketing for Romance Writers Authors blog today! Tell me about your writing routines and how I can improve mine J.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

More Habits of the Shell Seeker

In my earlier post I discussed some of the rules by which shell seekers must abide (it’s from some kind of Higher Authority, nameless in most cultures).

The most important rule is: You Must Not Put It Back. If you’ve found a perfect shell—an olive or murex, say, its shiny coat and all its edges intact—you have to keep it.  Exceptions: (1) You may return with impunity any shell that deceived you by only exposing its whole side; (2) If you have found three or more of a perfect item, you may offer them to other walkers.  Be advised: no proper shell seeker will accept it from you, but you might find a tourist or child as yet unschooled in the Rule.

However you try to take advantage of loopholes, most of your treasures will remain in your possession at least as far as the beach house. The problem facing you at that point is what to do with them. I have conducted an informal survey of beachgoers and found some intriguing and inventive solutions.

One young woman (single, so she has time) turned all her sand dollars into Santa Claus ornaments.  With a careless wave she described how simple it was—all you need is a glue gun and all kinds of little baubles (you know, the stuff in that junk drawer)…oh, and some semblance of artistic ability.

My great aunt glued shells to construction paper and put them in tiny frames. They’re still in my guest room. They’re all white now—even the construction paper.

The most charming solution came from a lovely Iowa couple.  They carry their loot home at the end of the season and make a small “beach” by their pool in Ames. Then they invite the neighborhood children to stop by and search for shells. Considering that many of the little guys may never see a real beach, it’s a marvelously exciting adventure for them. And the couple, without violating the Rule, have divested themselves of the treasure. Unfortunately, now they have to come each year to replenish their “beach.” The work never ends…