My Valentine’s Day Trifecta

Three Hearts (sm)

Valentine’s Day is my kind of day.  I was a romantic before I ever wrote a single romance, and once I did that – and discovered that people loved reading what I wrote – there was no end to my hearts-and-flowers imagination.  All told, I wrote fifty romances, sometimes eight a year, I was that into it.  But being a romance writer wasn’t, in fact, entirely hearts and flowers.  There were friends who politely told me that they didn’t read “that kind of book.”  Worse, there was the family member who actually told me she didn’t read “that kind of trash.”  There were booksellers who hid me in a back corner when I came for a signing, rather than up front, where other visiting authors sat.  And then there were people (male, usually, like the one selling me my first computer) who blithely said, “So now all you have to do is cut-and-paste different names, and you have a new book.”

But do you like my book?

And so comes the Monday after the first weekend you’ve all have with my newest book.  I sit on tenterhooks wondering, worrying, hoping.

Sweet Salt Air  has actually been out and around for the sake of getting early reviews.  Part of the promotional campaign leading up to its publication entailed sending Advance Reading Copies to more than a hundred book groups around the country.  In return, they’ve posted reviews in blogs and on Facebook, Goodreads, Amazon, and the like.  Excerpts of some of these reviews appeared in a New York Times Book Review ad on Sunday, June 16.   Here’s the ad.  Pretty, huh?

LOW PRESSURE: a book recommendation

LOW PRESSURE

Sandra Brown and I go way back.  We started in the field of romance together, actually met at the first ever Romance Writers of America conference.  We raised our kids, saw them marry and have their own kids at roughly the same time.  Both straying from the romance genre, I entered the field of women’s fiction, while Sandra made her mark writing thrillers. Her novels are beautifully written, exquisitely plotted, and deeply sensual.

Low Pressure, her latest book, is no exception.  I had the pleasure of hunkering down this weekend to read it, and while you know that I don’t do book reviews but simply tell you what I like, I gotta say I like this one.  Where to begin?

Dealing with the loss of my characters

Readers feel this.  You’ve been engrossed in a book for however long it takes to read it and then, suddenly, the characters are gone.  You write me asking what they’ll do now and whether they’ll ever be back. But if you miss them, think of what I’m feeling when I finish writing a book.

Take Sweet Salt Air.  I’ve been living with Charlotte and Nicole and Leo and his dog Bear for a year and a half, so finishing the writing and having to let them go is bittersweet for me, too.

Why I love FIFTY SHADES OF GREY

Surely by now you’ve heard friends talk of this book, and if you haven’t yet, you will.  Consider me a friend.  And here’s my talk.

I love the characters.  Ana may be sexually naïve at the start of the book, but she has spunk and wit.  She takes on Christian as no other woman has; the email between them is priceless.  Christian is flawed, but for a reason.  Discovering that reason is cause enough to read on.

A watershed moment for SWEET SALT AIR

I do try to blog several times a week, but it’s been ten days since my last post, and you loyal readers have Sweet Salt Air to blame.  I’ve reached a critical point in the book – three hundred pages done, with the final climactic hundred ready to go.  But … but … but …

Several sticking points.  First, there’s a medical angle to this story, and though I’ve been working with a doctor in the Midwest since last summer, it’s suddenly showtime.  That means re-reading everything he sent, making (another) list of questions for him, and, most importantly, firming up my timeline.

How to write a sex scene

I’ve written sex scenes, oh have I written sex scenes.  I’ve written twelve-page ones, six-page ones, one-page ones.  I’ve also written two-paragraph sex scenes, and they’re just as special as the longest of the long.  The reason?  It’s all about the feeling behind the sex.

My post traumatic weekend

I had oral surgery last Thursday.  I wish I could say that I’m an adoringly appreciative patient, but when I’m not feeling well, I just want to be left alone.  So here I had an army of friends and relatives wanting to help, and there wasn’t much they could do.  I couldn’t talk, couldn’t eat.  I slept mostly at first, until I switched from prescription meds to Tylenol, at which point I could think again.

DH was actually away with the grandkids for the weekend, a date arranged long before my surgery was scheduled and one that couldn’t be changed, since it involved tickets to the Patriots’ game.  So I was (dum da dum dum) home alone.