April 1, 2014

Dear Hotel Manager

We found ourselves in your city this past weekend, with plans to return home that evening, but as so often happens, we decided at the last minute to stay overnight and make the drive home the next morning. When we called our usual hotels (the Candlewood Suites and the Marriott), we were disappointed to learn that they were both sold out...apparently there was an NCAA game going on.  Our next preferred hotel, the Hampton Inn, was sold out as well.

We were about to lose hope (or settle for lodging 20 miles outside the city) when we tried calling your establishment.  We'd had an unpleasant experience with your chain in Tampa some years ago, when we arrived to find the hotel in the midst of a messy, noisy renovation, with the room itself looking like that of a cheap motel rather than the mid-range accommodations the rate suggested.  We ended up leaving and going to the AmeriSuites down the street.  Still, you were the only hotel left who was charging under $129, as everyone's rates, like roses on Valentine's Day, had shot up for the special event.

There were renovations being done at your hotel as well, specifically the installation of plush new carpet on the steps of the exposed staircase (the hallways had already been re-carpeted, even if the baseboards hadn't yet been replaced).  Our room itself was lovely and comfortable, but when my husband tried to turn on the television he met with a pink screen.  When we tried to call the desk, we couldn't get a dial tone.  I had to go down to the desk myself to inquire and was told that a) if we disconnected the power cord of the TV momentarily and plugged it back in, it should be fine, and b) that she would connect our telephone (I've never heard of a phone in a hotel room having to be turned on). 

When we tried disconnecting and re-connecting the TV, we were not successful in getting it to work, and when we tried to call the desk the phone still didn't work.  I made another trip downstairs, made it clear I wasn't happy with either situation, and the clerk came upstairs, got the TV working, and once more said she would turn on our phone.

I went to work out that evening.  Whoever decided that the workout room should be adjacent to the indoor pool and Jacuzzi, with a partial glass wall that did not extend all the way up to the ceiling, made a serious error in judgment.  Indoor pools require warmer temperatures while cooler temperatures are best when exercising, and the thermostat read 81 degrees.  I lasted for 12 minutes.  The exercise equipment itself was cheap, without any cup holders (and that water fountain with its lukewarm water was a poor substitute for a water cooler putting out cold, refreshing liquid) or book holders.  The weights of the bench press kept falling down.  I had to get someone from the desk to get the TV to come on.  

Before going to bed, I went to place a wake-up call...and the phone still did not work.  Instead I set the in-room alarm clock to the correct time and set the alarm manually. 

While your hotel came through in a crunch, we weren't impressed.  The problems we encountered were not indicative of a room that cost over $100.  The hotel looks quite nice, but I predict all those redecorating dollars wasted when someone either has a heart attack in that sauna of a workout room, or suffers injuries from a slip and fall when walking through the pool and Jacuzzi area to get to the sauna--er, workout room, because water and rubber-soled shoes just don't mix.  
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That's my unhappy experience this past weekend. What are some of your hotel stay horror stories?

September 11, 2013

Guest Blogger:  Sofia Harper

Today, while I'm celebrating a family member's birthday, author Sofia Harper is taking over my blog.  Sofia's eBook, Hot Knights in Paradise (love that play on words), was released this past Monday from Entangled Publishing's Indulgence imprint.

Stranded in paradise with no way to get home, Leah Smith needs a miracle, and fast. Instead, she gets Marshall Jackson, surely the sexiest man alive. Too bad he's got an emotional wall around himself--and her only hope of getting off the island...

Marshall has a strict no-damsels-in-distress policy, but there's something about Leah that makes him want to break his own rules. He agrees to let her work in his bar until she earns enough to get home. But the more time they spend together, the harder it is to deny the scorching attraction between them. Soon hot island nights provide balm to their wounded souls, but will these two flawed exiles make peace with the past in time to claim the future they deserve together--or will paradise be lost?

Sofia is here to talk about her inspiration for writing this particular book, and she brought along an excerpt for your reading pleasure.  Take it away, Sofia...and readers, be sure to share your travel horror stories in the comments!
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How A Premise Is Born

I can tell you about how the theme and heart of Hot Knight in Paradise came to be. Not down to the day. I'm not that good. The premise is somewhat more fuzzy. It was a thought, a realization after I lost my cell phone—I didn't know anyone's number. My mother tells me this is a shame because my grandmother's number has been the same for forty years. I am a child of this new technology age and I have no clue what anyone's number is.

If I were to get stranded in another country without ID, money (debit cards included) or passport...Let's just say I could send out emails for help. (Well, on one account, because I can't remember the passwords to any of the others.) Isn't that frightening thought? Well, it was for me. So I researched this very conundrum.

The results were scarier. In California, at least, it can take up to two months to get a new ID. Three weeks for a new birth certificate to get so you can get a new passport. And that's hoping that you can get your bank to send you a new bank card from an address in a new and foreign country. If you have an address you can send it to, mind you.

Now, I was troubled by this beyond reason because I know my luck. I am that person who loses their luggage whenever they travel. If X isn't likely to happen, then X happens to me within five minutes. And that's when the writer in me sat up because this idea became a breeding ground of plot bunny potential. And then I started to make my happy laugh, which sounds like mwahahahahaha.

Poor Leah. She never had chance once that idea got hold of me. She was bound to be the walking epitome of Murphy's Law. Since my laugh is only evil when it's happy, I rectified her luck. On top of that she had Marshall, which I can say is pretty darn...everything good about a man once you get past his initial grumpiness. He is a man who is sweet and is slightly dirty.

Anyway, that's how this premise was born. And if you plan to travel, remember someone's phone number.

Tell me about some of your travel horror stories, and be sure to check out the excerpt from Hot Knight in Paradise below!

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Sofia Harper started writing contemporary romance a long, long time ago. When Sofia's not spending time with imaginary people in her head, she's corrupting two little trouble makers. Currently she lives in California, where the wine is good. She also going full-throttle on the ride called publishing. These two thoughts are not related.

You can check out her out here:

Website: http://sofiaharper.com

Blog: sofiaharper.blogspot.com‎

Twitter hashtag:  @sofiaharp‎

Excerpt, Hot Knight in Paradise:

She sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got nothing else to do until the others make it.” The unmistakable scent of smoke thickened the air in the bar. That probably explained why his voice came out raspy.

To add insult to injury, his brown eyes filled with amusement. In this light, his skin was a bit lighter, but definitely very sun-kissed and beautifully, deeply bronzed. He kept his hair short, cut into a fade. His well-worn shorts, loose-fitting shirt, and relaxed temperament fit this strange place. Nothing adorned the old-school wood paneling, but there were tables, chairs, and liquor.

The place was a dive trying and failing to be a bar. And Marshall was trying and failing to be charming. She wasn’t going to tell the man her life story, not after he’d let a mugger ride off into the sunset with her purse. She’d had the situation under control until he showed up.

More or less.

She kept a tight, polite smile on her face and lifted the twenty to show him she planned to be a paying customer. “That’s for the drink.”

He shook his head. “I’m not taking your money.” She started to speak, and he talked over her. “Until you tell me how you ended up here.”

She sized him up again. Despite the seedy atmosphere and his current appearance, he had a preppy air to him. Strange thought, but she dealt with banking bigwigs with MBAs in her job as a home loan modifier, and it gave her a sixth sense for preppy. The twenty itched in her hand. Maybe she’d rubbed up against an exotic form of poison ivy when she’d done her stop, drop, and roll.

She shook her head—once, twice—and then slapped the twenty onto the counter. It surprised her when the wood didn’t buckle. The deceptively sturdy counter took up most of the space along the left wall. “I’m not here to spill my guts. Take the money.”

A smile spread across his face, and the power of the sudden mischievous quality made her blink. 

“Okay.” He straightened, leaving behind a musky, masculine scent. “If you won’t talk about yourself, put in on the poker game.”

That kind of smile could talk a woman into just about anything. Her blood sang with attraction, and it made her head swim. Down, girl. 

“No.”

Marshall shook his head. “I’m not letting you off that easy. I risked my life to save yours. You owe me.”

“Didn’t ask you to,” she said.

His jaw clenched. “Some things you shouldn’t have to ask for.”

A bitter laugh spilled from her lips. “Just like there are some things you don’t. Like bossy men with a hero complex who work in dives.”

His eyes narrowed, and she bit her lip. His gaze dropped to her mouth. She held her breath.

“True,” he said. “Now fess up. How did you end up on the side of the road getting robbed? ”

What would it hurt? He wasn’t likely to tell anyone—not when he seemed to be hiding here himself. What man would opt to live in a place that looked like this? Someone running, that’s who.  And what the hell? If she wasn't going to gamble or finish the entire contents of the glass in front of her, she might as well live a little and do something daring, like open up.

She put an elbow on the counter, placing her chin in her palm. “Where should I start? I’ve never confessed to a bartender before.”

“Start where you think your story starts.”

Her life really started the day she’d made a blood pact with her cousin Janet to never settle for mediocre and to never lose her sense of adventure. Also, whoever lost their virginity first had to retell the story in painstaking detail.

Leah settled on, “I was born in a one-room shack.”

He scoffed at the lie. “Fast-forward just a little bit. I’m more curious how someone like you ended up in my bar.”

“Dive,” she corrected. “It’s a dive.”

“I would be insulted if I didn’t agree.” He tilted his chin up, gesturing to the other side of the room, where a cluster of tables sat together. “I have regulars, and I have people who end up lost." He mused for a moment. "Or troublemakers."
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Hot Knight in Paradise is available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.  Download your copy today!

December 2, 2012

Where do my ideas come from, you ask?  Try real life...

My mom, who came up to Wisconsin a few weeks before our family reunion over Thanksgiving weekend and stayed a week after it ended, flew home to Florida yesterday.  I'm happy to say that she, plus all the other family members who came, arrived home safely.

But the details of Mom's return flight were hardly routine.  When we arrived at Milwaukee's Bradley Airport, the Departures board showed that her flight had been delayed by 65 minutes.  This was concerning because she had to make a connecting flight.  A chat with the ticket agent revealed that flights from her connecting city had also been delayed for the same reason, so there would be no problem with her possibly missing her connection.

But here's where it gets interesting:  When we arrived at the gate (I normally turn her over to an airport employee with a wheelchair, but this time I went with her to make sure she got on the plane without additional delay) I noticed that the sign behind the gate agents said "On Time."  I inquired about this and was initially told that it had been delayed, and when I asked why this wasn't reflected on the sign behind them, another agent informed me the delay had been lifted and the flight would take off on time after all.

This was fine for Mom, but my "what if" writer's mind started working overtime.  What would happen if a passenger checked, found out that their flight would take off an hour past the scheduled time, and did some things before going to the airport, only to find that the delay had been lifted and the plane had taken off on time? 

I'm already jotting down notes for a story...

Post-Travel Musings

I've been racing to keep up with the flood of ideas that are popping into my head. From the day we left for our vacation, my imagination went into overdrive. There's the snippet of conversation I heard between two people at the gate at O'Hare who learned they worked for the same organization (they each wore the logoed polo shirt) and shared what type of work they would be doing in a specific Asian country. There were the multiple black and white men I saw with Asian women on the streets and restaurants of Bangkok. The hotel we stayed in, which is also a service residence with laundry, pool, workout room, and parking. The dozens of shopping malls and open markets I saw, some disperse, others dedicated to food, electronics, or high-end retailers. Talking with people during the long plane ride and learning the reason for their travels. Talking with my husband's former classmates and learning where they live today (anywhere from Virginia and Arizona, the Philippines, Australia, or right there in Thailand) and what they do.

In addition to the sights and sounds, I also read some creative, imaginative novels during my trip, one women's fiction and one contemporary romance. Both were refreshing. The women's fiction took a very unusual premise and, although it dragged in spots for me, made a highly entertaining story out of it, and I felt like I hadn't read that story before. The romance, although with too many people for me to process introduced in the opening chapters and a character whose background remained unclear to me through most of the book, was also refreshing, as it provided realistic language and behavior, something not always seen in romance novels.

So, armed with plenty of ideas for future stories and some well-written novels to hold up as beacons, I prepare to lose myself in the wonderful world of writing. My next Bunderful Books, The Heat of Heat, should be out in a few months. The way I'm feeling, I might have it finished next week!

Isn't it wonderful?

Vacation time!

I'm at O'Hare Airport waiting to board a plane to Hong Kong (where we'll switch planes and continue on to Bangkok), and all I can say is, these people ought to be ashamed of themselves. I've been sitting on the floor for the past 40 minutes because there are no outlets near the chairs, WiFi has to be purchased (Boingo, anyone?), and this gate is fast becoming standing room only. You'd think they'd have at least as many seats at the gate as there are on the plane...?

Gone Conferencing

I'm still out of town (isn't the Internet wonderful?), but I'm over at SORMAG, participating in the Online Conference. This conference is a wonderful source of information for readers and writers alike, so click here to visit!

We have had gorgeous weather. Hurricane Bill made for some fantastic waves in a beach known for its waves. I'm writing this on the covered patio, and the sun is sparkling off the water of the pool. It's my last day here, and I'm going to make the most of it!

More Slam Jam 2008 photos

I almost didn't recognize Donna Hill. How come some people manage to not only stop the clock, but reverse it?

Me and my girl Gwyneth Bolton. I hadn't met Gwyneth before, but we've communicated via the Internet and I recognized her right away from her photo in the audience when Sean Young and I did a session with two other authors. It was such a pleasure to meet her in person.

You'll have to twist your neck a little to see LaShaunda Hoffman of SORMAG. (Sorry about that.)

Those bright smiles belong to Nathasha Brooks-Harris, Michelle Monkou, and Natalie Dunbar.

With Toni Bonita Robinson, an old friend and an ardent supporter of romance from Day One!

Sean Young, Rochelle Alers, and an unidentified reader wearing her Slam Jam T-shirt.

Photos from Slam Jam 2008

Okay, it's been four months since Romance Slam Jam was held in Chicago. Thank God I had the foresight to presume that we'd find our house right around then (we did) and arranged to participate on Saturday only. In that morning and afternoon I caught up with old friends, met people I'd become friends with via the Internet and the telephone, and met people I'd had limited contact with.

Now that I'm still struggling to finish my WIP while simultaneously entertaining my visiting mother and sister, this seems like a good time to share some of the photos with you, so enjoy! I'll post the rest midweek.

With Beverly Jenkins, my table-mate at the mass book signing (we were seated alphabetically according to first name). The fact that we each had new books out at the end of April was merely coincidental.

The literary sister act, Marilyn Tyner and Alice Wootson

With LaConnie Taylor Jones. I'm standing on my toes so I don't look too short and dumpy next to my tall, willowy friend!

With Celeste Norfleet, whom I finally got to meet for the first time!

With AlTonya Washington, whom I also met for the first time.

With my good friend Sean Young. Sean is looking fabulous, and wasn't that sweet of her to stoop (she knows I hate having my picture taken with women who are taller, slimmer, and younger than I am!)

With Radiah Hubbert of Urban-Reviews.com. Isn't she cute?

Back from Vacation

We had a great time in San Diego. We stayed at a historic hotel (built in 1886) in the Gaslamp District (the room on the left with the balcony, the second floor from the top, was where we stayed) which was home to Wyatt Earp and his wife whenever they were in San Diego.

We were part of a reunion of the high school in Bangkok, Thailand, which my husband attended for two years while his Army father was stationed there. From that first dinner at a Thai restaurant (naturally), we bonded with the other attendees, many of whom my husband did not previously know (they'd graduated before or shortly after he got there). Rarely have I been fortunate to meet such a friendly group of people. And there were attendees who walked into the room and called out my husband's name, thrilled to see him (and he them) after 36 years. Everybody is now in their 50s, and what a kick I got out of seeing how they looked in their class pictures. There's nothing like walking into a hotel ballroom and seeing a bunch of laid-back middle-aged baby boomers dressed in California casual, boogie-ing down to songs like Jumpin' Jack Flash.

The majority of the group have settled in California - a few right there in San Diego - but one person came in from Australia, another from Portugal, and a few from the East Coast. Our group also included a set of identical twins who occasionally dressed alike just to throw the rest of us off track . . . successfully.

This was my first trip to California, and San Diego is truly a beautiful city, very tourist-friendly. Most of our activities involved the reunion, but they involved places I wanted to see, like Old Town and the Coronado Peninsula. We toured the elegant Hotel Del Coronado, and I got my feet and legs wet in the Pacific Ocean. One night our group took an evening dinner cruise in the bay with dancing and even a fireworks show. We were introduced to dim sum and have become devotees. I'll be looking to see where the closest such restaurant specialty is to us here in Kenosha (probably some distance away, since our town is also known as Ke-Nowhere). The majority of our group was Asian, specifically Chinese, so it was kind of neat to eat with so many people who could actually speak to the wait staff in their language!

We wrapped up the trip after the reunion ended by taking to the road in our rented convertible for a scenic 59-mile drive around the area, much of it along the coastline. Just a wonderful trip all around. We're going to try to make the big blowout reunion in 2010, to be held in Bangkok.

Something I was struck by was how tall those California palm trees grow. They make Florida palms look like runts! And how the temperature dips when the sun goes down, something you don't feel in Florida.

While on vacation I usually have a few hours in the morning and maybe an hour or two in the afternoon to work on my manuscript, but since I forgot my power cord, I wrote for a few hours on the plane and that was it. The rest of my spare time I read, and I made an excellent choice. If you haven't read Suite Embrace by Anita Bunkley, I highly recommend it. It was a good read, got me all wrapped up in the story, and it had two elements particularly pleasing to me: One, it was a perfectly realistic story with no fantasy elements that so often strike me as silly, and two, it didn't involve a family (y'all know I can't get into family series, probably because they all seem the same to me). Actually, it is a series, but I have no idea who will take center stage in the next book, only that it will not be siblings of the hero and heroine of this story (one is an only child and the only sibling of the other is already married). I think Ms. Bunkley plans to develop romances between guests or employees at the Colorado ski resort where the story takes place. Whatever she does, I do plan on going along for the read.

I have less than 10 days to go for my deadline date for my 2009 book. This is bad news, as you can see by my progress meter:

But as you can see by the cartoon, I'm not panicked. Nor am I living in a fool's paradise. All I need is a weekend or two to devote to this and I'll get it done.

Tune in tomorrow (or maybe the day after), when we will have wise words from author Deirdre Savoy.

The Home Stretch

Once Upon A Project makes its official debut five weeks from today. I’m in the home stretch, when early reviews start coming in from readers and organizations. APOOO gave it two thumbs up, as mentioned in Yasmin Coleman’s column on Blogging in Black this past weekend. I eagerly looked at the recently updated May RT ratings online, only to find that it wasn’t reviewed for that issue and I'll have to wait another month at least to see what they say.

It’s also time to put promotion in full gear. I confess, I started thinking about ways to promote this book early on. I’ve never done of this – it’s the writing process I adore, and any illusions of being a superstar in a very crowded field were short-lived. I did know that for this book I wanted to do something. Last fall, before I even had a clear picture of what I was going to do, I started putting $15 a week (as a contract employee, I get a paycheck every week) away toward my budget.

There’s dozens of services out there vying for those author promotion dollars. I had to decide which ones to pass on and which ones to grab. Making a choice is a very personal decision, since what works for one writer won't necessarily work for the next one.

Book trailers are fun to make, but I've been slow getting the finishing touches on mine. My husband's been slowly recovering from the flu and is attending an off-site conference all this week. Maybe I can get him to finish it this weekend and get it posted on YouTube and my web site. All he's got to do is add the music and credits. I originally had this targeted for mid-February. It'll now be closer to early April. But at least it's not costing me anything.

I’m generally not a conference person for the most part. It never seemed like a good economical decision to attend RT, and I let my membership in RWA lapse two years ago when I relocated. I always suspected – and from what I’ve heard other authors publicly state, I wasn’t too far off the mark – that I wouldn’t be able to give books away at these events where black authors writing books with black characters aren’t exactly in demand. Therefore, it seemed pointless and money better spent elsewhere (and not necessarily to promote my writing).

I always wanted to go to the Harlem Book Fair, but that mid-July date has proved problematic for me. Three years ago my stepson got married that weekend. Two years ago I moved my annual Hamptons vacation to August so it would coincide with my aunt’s 90th birthday party in my hometown of Yonkers (and one trip to New York per year is, quite frankly, sufficient). Last year my husband and I went away in late June/early July to coincide with my 50th birthday, and another trip two weeks later was out of the financial question. This year mid-July will find us vacationing in San Diego and hopefully Baja California (provided my husband gets his passport) at an informal high school reunion his classmates from Thailand put together. Maybe I’ll get to Harlem in mid-July eventually, but it won’t be this year.

I did decide to attend the Romance Slam Jam (or at least part of it; since I’ve got a Thursday evening signing scheduled on the South Side and a Friday lunchtime signing scheduled in downtown Chicago), which is being held just 30 miles from my home and just a few days after my new book’s release date. The possible downside to this is the very real possibility that the book vendor might not receive my brand new book in time for the signing. That means getting on the phone and seeing if the publisher can send me my author copies quickly so I’ll have a backup . . . and since that's no guarantee either, I still might end up sitting at the signing book-less and pissed.

I’m always getting offers from people to do e-mail blasts, most of which I’ve resisted. These services can be rather costly, and with uncertain results. Many of them claim to have thousands and thousands of people listed on their databases, but I know that doesn’t mean that all those folks are reading their e-mail. How many times have I erased newsletters advertising new books from these same people without even opening them? The service I utilize to send my monthly e-mails to my subscribers offers statistics that show that a full one-third of the people who signed up have yet to open it.

In the end I decided to go with two such services because I believed they were a good bargain: SORMAG (Shades of Romance) and Romance Designs. Truth be told, I’m naturally skeptical of anything with the word “Romance” in it, since my book is women’s fiction and contains a minimum of romance, but regardless of this I felt, then and now, that I did the right thing.

I’m also trying to capitalize on a release date two weeks before Mother’s Day by making a yet-to-be-announced special offer to those who would like signed bookplates to personalize Mother’s Day gifts (or for themselves), although I’ll have to put a number limit on this because first class postage is expensive.

My final idea made me glad I’d set aside a budget because it would take the bulk of it. I decided to do a direct mail campaign targeted to a specific demographic: Fifty-year-old African-American female book buyers, since Once Upon A Project speaks most directly to them (although you can still appreciate it if you’re younger, older, or non-black). In addition to postage costs, it takes a lot of time to put together geographically-organized mailing lists, especially if it was done the way I did it (a little bit sneakily, and that’s all I’ll say about that). Because I got many more addresses than I was entitled to through somewhat fraudulent means, I ended up with 5-digit zip codes rather than the zip + 4s that are practically a requirement for direct mail, and I had to work out a way to get this information without driving myself nuts zip code crazy. I’m happy to say that it’s all coming together. I usually gather the data while watching TV, with three screens open on my computer. I have no idea how successful this endeavor will be, but two things work in my favor here – a postcard can be mailed for just 26 cents, and the price increase won’t go into effect until May. And I’ll have these contacts forever.

Of course, when I'm awaiting the release of my 15th book next April, I probably won't bother with any of this stuff.

Bettye is Baffled Again (Another One for the 'I Just Don't Get It' Category)

No, I'm not confused about the people in the pictures from my recent vacation, who are my mom with her three surviving kids, me with my niece, who wanted to ride wtih me (I wonder why?), me and the birthday boy, and the nieces and nephew who attended. Apologies if you're seeing this twice; I fouled up something earlier and aren't sure if I got rid of it.

Now, on to what has me befuddled (I always liked that word.) Can anyone explain to me why people start standing in line at the airline gate so far ahead of boarding time? When I flew out to Colorado very early Friday morning, people were standing on line by 6:20AM, before the plane even arrived at the gate. The disembarking passengers had to get off, the flight attendants had to pick up a little plus do a passenger count, and the passengers continuing on were given the opportunity to switch seats before the new set of passengers could get on. I could tell we would be late taking off, but still people stood.

On my return trip Monday, people started lining up forty minutes before our scheduled departure (at least this time the plane was parked at the gate). Southwest Airlines divides passengers into groups A, B, and C, depending on when one's ticket was purchased, plus those who qualify to pre-board (the idea is that they will be the first to get on and the last to de-plane upon landing because it takes them a little longer to get it together, but I have never seen any of them wait until the plane empties before getting off themselves – instead they hold everybody up with their walkers and wheelchairs and their three kids under age 4).

Anyway, I waited until the line for group B had reached where I was sitting before getting up. I sailed past people in Group C who'd been standing on line for half an hour.

I don't understand what the mad rush is to get on the airplane, with its stuffy air and narrow seats. On the other hand, I do understand the rush to get off, but again, I can't figure why even the people in the back get up and grab their stuff the second the Fasten Seat Belt sign goes off. Don't they realize that there are dozens of people in front of them?

If anyone can shed any light on this, I'd love to hear it. I'm truly baffled. Do you do this? Why, for heaven's sake?

I'm baaaaaaack!

Colorado was as beautiful as I remember it (I was last there way back in 1981). We spent most of our time in the suburb of Aurora rather than the city, but we did get down to the 16th Street Mall on Friday, both for lunch and dinner. My brother was absolutely shocked to see so many of his family members sitting there when my mother (who flew out a day earlier) took him and a friend to dinner. He first noticed his own children and grandchildren before he realized that my sister and I were also present. His 60th birthday was fun for all of us. I'd never been to the Mongolian Barbeque before, but I'll be going again!

I rented a PT Cruiser convertible (the weather was in the 70s) and zoomed around the mountains to an elevation of 8,500 feet, up to the historic town of Black Hawk, which now looks like a Las Vegas of the mountains, with two- and three-story casinos and saloons all over the place. I went into Fitzgerald's with $10 and left with $44 (my motto is, when you win don't stick around to give it back.)

You can't believe how close the moon looks at that higher altitude. But Black Hawk is some 3,000 feet higher than the Mile High City. I would have loved to see the moon from there, but those curvy mountain roads are not meant to be driven down after dark.

Anyway, I'm back and am working on my copyedited manuscript, which is the last chance I'll have to do any re-writing of Once Upon A Project. My editor wanted them, like, yesterday, but it's a huge work - 117,000 words - and I've already spotted several continuity errors that even she didn't catch, so I will look at it extremely carefully before sending it back. The first rule of publishing is that a rushed book is a sloppy book. Unfortunately, these edits have a way of showing up just before I leave for vacation.

Check my blog next week for a special sneak preview of the cover art. And please check out the interview I did with Gwyneth Bolton on her blog, www.gwynethbolton.blogspot.com .

Good to be back!