Brainstorming a New Book

In between regaining my sanity after meeting my book deadline, I’ve been brainstorming new book ideas. At the moment, I’m trying something new this time. Whether or not it works remains to be seen, but the beginning stages of an idea are really fun. You never know what will come up.

I love list-making. I started by thinking of really strong, bold characters and what archetype they would be. Then next to that, I listed what their worst fear was. I’m hoping to mix and match some interesting heroes and heroines. Just for fun, see if you can guess these movie characters:

1. The Flirt–a southern belle who always needs to be adored by men. Worst fear: Being left alone by the man she loves.
2. Everyman–a young boy with an ordinary life is asked to leave his comfort zone for a magical one. Worst fear: That he lacks the power to be someone special.
3. The Loner–a man who thinks everyone hates him because of his appearance is asked to save his people. Worst fear: Rejection and failure.

I think 1 and 2 are a little obvious because I threw in some clues, but I made 3 a bit tougher. See if you can figure them out!

Today is the last day to enter my newsletter contest. I’ll pick a random number and that subscriber will win an autographed copy of Her Irish Warrior and an autographed favorite book of mine by Julia Quinn When He Was Wicked. Good luck!

And There was Great Rejoicing Throughout the Land…

My book is in London! :cheer::scream::streamer: There is great happiness in my household tonight. Yesterday I was planning to mail that puppy, but almost as soon as I wrote my blog, the most vicious stomach flu had to smack me down. Nonetheless, I persevered and managed to e-mail the book to my editor this morning. Hooray! And I think we have a title for it, too. No longer is it Patrick’s Book or Her Wild Irish Rogue (I thought that one was clever, but I am now 3 for 3 on not getting my titles, so I may have to just start coming up with hokey titles to entertain and amuse myself since they never really fly). I could call the next one The Book that Must Not Be Named. Or maybe Swords, Castles, and Sexy Men, Oh My!.

So, incidentally, the new title is Her Warrior King. I think that’ll work just fine. Patrick is very much a yummy warrior king, and it brings the trilogy titles together nicely.

In the meantime, I get to catch up on some much-needed television. I am six episodes behind on “Lost,” people! I feel so..so…out of touch with the universe. But I plan to remedy this ASAP. And I should probably figure out what kind of book/trilogy/series I’m writing next. I also need to update my website with the new back cover copy for The Warrior’s Touch among various and sundry tasks. You will note that housecleaning is NOT on my list of things to do.

Then, too, the minions of middle school are facing the last 16 days of the school year and are starting to get a little antsy. Throw in some standardized testing, and it’s a wonder we don’t have mutiny on our hands. But with a little chocolate and patience, we’ll get through. To those of you who are done with school in the next few days, let me just say that I am so jealous!

I am considering taking my 5-year-old son to his first movie, after school gets out. Have any of you seen “Shrek 3?” Is it appropriate for a boy of that age? Or should we skip it?

The Universe is Laughing at Me

Clearly I have problems when it comes to container gardening and peppers. I am a complete addict to jalapeno poppers, and last year I got the not-so-bright idea to grow my own jalapenos. The results were here. This year, I bought green bell peppers, the mild variety that get nice and large so I can slice them up for salads, fajitas, or you name it.

Yesterday I was watering my plants when I thought I’d take a closer look at the pepper tag. I wanted to be sure I was giving it the right sunlight and water. Imagine my shock to learn that my green bell pepper, was not, in fact, a bell pepper. Apparently, I am growing a Habanero pepper. How in the world did those get switched? And what am I going to do with a Habanero pepper? If I couldn’t handle the heat of a home grown jalapeno, there’s no way I can do a Habanero. So clearly, someone up in the sky is laughing at me.

Has anyone here ever grown a Habanero? What do you do with them? (Aside from stepping back and hoping that you don’t get burned alive just by touching the pepper.)

P.S.–I am going to Lowe’s today to buy ANOTHER bell pepper plant. Oh, and if I can finish my proofreading, I hope to email my book to my editor tonight. Hope so!

Pregnancy Craziness

I am at the stage where I stare at my wardrobe and no longer wonder about what I want to wear. I’m at the stage where I question what FITS. And that, my friends, is very limited at the moment. I think I am likely a fashion disaster at the moment because I am doing whatever it takes to avoid maternity wear. At 13 weeks, this is a losing battle, but I do not want to wear the elastic belly pants until I absolutely have to. Thank goodness for the hip-hugger pants that came into fashion. I am living in those, and trying to find various tops that will actually cover the baby bump.

Maternity wear is an evil trick on mothers-to-be. They tell you, “Oh, just buy whatever size you wore normally and just buy it in maternity, and you’ll be fine.” Right. When I was 8 months pregnant with my son, 6 weeks left to go, not a single pair of my maternity pants fit. I remember sobbing like an idiot to my husband that I was too fat to wear maternity clothes and I just couldn’t take it. Being a man, he suggested that I go out and buy a larger size. I contemplated throwing a stapler at him for the remark, because when you’ve outgrown your maternity wear, things are pretty darn bad.

But I learned that there are three stages. The first trimester stage where your pants get tighter, but you can basically get by. The early second trimester when maternity wear sags on you, but nothing else fits. And then there’s third trimester when your hips get to be the size of a dump truck and you have to revert to the Extra Large Maternity Mama San Pants.

I’m beginning to think that dresses are the way to go…:banana:

For those of you mothers out there, what were your favorite maternity clothes? Most hated?

A little celebration

My book is done! Now I’m going to take the next week and wrap up revisions and line edits, then send it off to Merry old England for my editor’s feedback. But it feels so good to have the book finished. I thought it would be 360 pages, but as luck would have it, I ended up with 376. I’ve written about 20 pages in the last 3 days. That’s typical for me. Once I have it all laid out and ready to go, I can blast my way to the end. The downside is, the ending is never where I think it’ll be. On my other book, Wedded to the Enemy, I thought I only had 10 pages to write and I ended up writing 26 that day (because I swore I’d finish it). Today’s total was 10 pages. Thank goodness for weekends and chocolate doughnuts. Always inspiring.

And speaking of inspiring, this photo of Christian Bale seems pretty close to Patrick. He’s not perfect, but he has that rugged look I was going for. I don’t like pretty boys for heroes. For me, I want gritty, a man who has seen the rougher side of life.

Now that the book is done (except for pesky revisions), I get to treat myself by doing some reading for fun. I adore reading and it’s crazy because now I feel guilty if I spend a few minutes reading instead of writing. I’m enjoying my friend Jan Kenny’s western romance One Real Cowboy right now. Jan is one of the nicest people I know, and it was wonderful celebrating her first sale last year when I met her in Atlanta. Her book is funny, sexy, and just a great read.

Another book I finished recently was Liberty by Kimberly Iverson. It’s about a female gladiator and the Roman nobleman who falls in love with her. I enjoyed it very much, and I eat up Roman-era stories like M&Ms.

When you read historical romance, what’s your favorite time period? Do you have more than one? For me, it’s medievals, American-set Victorians, westerns, and a select few Regencies. I burned out on some of the Regency stories, and it takes a really good author (e.g. Julia Quinn) to reinvent them for me.

A less than stellar motherhood moment

We have a system in our household. My husband is always the one to drop the kids off at daycare and has been since they started. This is mainly because the children know that Dad is completely unaffected by tears, so why bother? They are accustomed to a hug and a wave goodbye, and they happily go off to play.

When Dad is on travel for work, however, the children have another scenario in mind. My son is fairly low-key, but my daughter, aka Drama Queen, knows exactly how to push my buttons. The first time I dropped her off, she gave me a pitiful look and said, “Mommy, I need you.” This was followed by the most heartfelt sobbing and thigh-gripping you can imagine. My mother guilt was going on overdrive, and I felt like a rotten person when I handed her off to the daycare teacher.

Most of my guilt was not from leaving for work, but because my little monster had decided to invoke her wrath upon the daycare teacher. The tantrums would last almost half an hour after I left. Unbelievable! And at last, the day before my husband came back, I solved the problem with a sticker. A stupid sticker was enough to ward off any tears and Little Miss Chipper would skip off to her teacher with a happy, “Bye, Mommy!”

I thought we were past this. This week, she started off great–no need for stickers, just a hug and a smile. Then she started deteriorating until on Thursday, she threw herself kicking and screaming on the floor. What a turkey.

Today, I went through every drawer, every supply I could think of, and I couldn’t find any stickers. Nothing. I think I would have gone with a Chiquita banana sticker, if needed, but there was nada. Then I spied a bite-sized Snickers candy. I didn’t say a word, but pocketed it, along with a hard candy for her brother (You cannot give candy to one child and not the other–otherwise another world war breaks out).

The fateful moment arrived. Drama Queen poised for her greatest performance, armed with tears and flailing arms.

Me: “I guess you won’t be getting any candy then, huh?”
[Her arms froze in motion as her gaze snapped over to mine. I could see the wheels turning as I handed her daycare teacher the Snickers candy.]

Daughter: “No, I DO want candy!”

Me: “Then you can’t cry. Otherwise Miss Lorna gets your candy.”

She looked appalled at this. Her little face screwed up as if she were about to cry, and I shrugged. “It’s up to you. I have to go to work now. If you want your candy, don’t cry.”

Her face grew worried, but she pulled herself together and gave me a hug. I half-way pushed her toward the daycare teacher, and she went off to get her candy.

And yes, I feel like a rotten mother, because I KNOW this is not solving the problem. But if bribery keeps a three-year-old from making a teacher’s life a living misery, then I’m all for it. And on Monday, my husband can go back to dropping them off.

Looking back on my own childhood, there are only a few things I remember being bribed with. One is one of those sugar cookies, coated in yellow frosting with a chocolate smiley face. Not an ounce of nutrition in it, but I still adore them. Were you ever bribed as a kid? Was there something you’d walk off a building for?

I need a hero (okay, another one)

Thanks to everyone for your good wishes about the new baby. It’s nice to be able to share it with folks!

This has been an incredibly busy week for me, with my husband out of town and trying to get this book wrapped up and out the door to my editor. Sometimes I feel like the closer I get to the ending, the further away I am. I get caught up in what I *want* the book to be, and when it turns out differently, I have to decide if I messed up or whether this is genuinely the correct path for the characters to take.

I also have to do the art facts sheet for my characters, and I found this photo of Uma Thurman from the Pink Heart Society blog. When I saw it, she definitely looked like my heroine Isabel MacEgan. The book I’m finishing, The Warrior’s Kingdom, is the third in my Irish warrior trilogy. Ironically, it’s a prequel and not a sequel. And like before, I’m trying to decide upon the right male hero for my book. I thought about Eric Bana, but his eyes don’t have quite the right intensity. Pierce Brosnan is a little too playboyish, and my old stand-by Daniel Day-Lewis just doesn’t quite have the right look. I wish I could just do a google image search for hot Irish men, but I’d probably end up finding er…porn. And let me tell you, there are some frightening Internet images out there.

So, if you could recommend a gorgeous black-haired movie star, preferably with gray eyes, who would you suggest?

Mother’s Day Wishes (and a little bit of news)

Today I had my second booksigning at the Newport News Borders with Judi McCoy. We had a very nice turnout with co-workers who came to see me, parents of some students, and even a former student of mine who is now a junior in college and is an English major. I really enjoy seeing former students and finding out what happened to them. It means a lot when they take the time to come and say hello.

Another surprise guest was someone visiting from out of town who went out on a few dates with my father. Neither of us knew each other, but when she saw my dad (who had come in with my mom to help out with the kids while my husband was out of town), we discovered the connection. It was amazing to see what a small world it really is.

Judi and I gave out red carnations to customers in honor of Mother’s Day, and I think the kids enjoyed giving a flower to their mothers as well. Also, since it’s Mother’s Day, I wanted to announce a little news of my own. I am going to be a mother again for the third time. This time, I’m not going to find out whether it’s a boy or a girl, but I’d like to be surprised. The baby is due around the end of November, near Thanksgiving (I am not cooking this year!).

Anyway, I’d like to wish all of the mothers a very Happy Mother’s Day, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the weekend!

Graduation Thoughts

I went to school in the traditional route, straight to college after high school, and my master’s degree after that. I was very lucky in my own education, but sometimes I think it would be interesting to go back to school. I wonder if I would have made the same choices in which courses I took. I was an English major and while I do think that was the best choice for me, college gives you a chance to explore some fascinating subject areas. Art history turned out to be one of my favorite courses. Professor Rosenberg was a powerhouse of information. My hands were literally smoking, I took so many notes in his class. And later, when my husband and I traveled to Italy on our “real” honeymoon, I had a better appreciation of what I was seeing. Some other classes I really enjoyed were astronomy (loved looking at close-up pictures of the moon and the planets), and of course, Fiction Writing. The strangest class I took was a semester of Irish Gaelic. My parents thought I’d lost my mind, but you know, it’s actually been quite useful in my Irish medieval romances.

I bring up college studies because my sister-in-law is graduating from college this weekend, and I’m so very proud of her. She got married, worked for many years, and just a few years ago went back to school. I have the deepest respect for someone who can brave the college campus again, after having a full career. It takes courage and I applaud anyone who ever goes back for their degree. It’s hard enough being in college the first time, but there are new sets of challenges when you go back. So congratulations, Marie, and know that we are all behind you 100%.

Yesterday my local newspaper wrote up a nice article on me. I had to laugh because (although you can’t see it in the article), there’s a photo of me in my classroom. My students came into the classroom, beaming because their DESK was in the photograph. And one of them gleefully told me that her preposition frog made it into the photo. She felt quite famous. Kids are great.

Anyway, back to the college discussion. If you could go back to school and be completely frivolous, taking any course you wanted, what would you take? For me, I think I’d love to learn painting or pottery.

Plant Killer Extraordinaire

I have a bad habit of killing plants. I don’t mean to. I start with the best of intentions, offering them fertilizer, water, and lots of sun. And my grandparents were farmers, so you’d think I would inherit the green thumb. Um, not so much.

So, it was with a fearless heart that I bought annuals at Home Depot the other day. I’m sure the other plants were quivering, screaming, “No! Don’t pick me! I’m not ready to die yet!” What, you think I’m kidding? In the past week, two of my plants committed suicide. No, really. I went to pull weeds and my gardenia bush was lying on its side, roots exposed. One of my double-knockout roses was also lying outside the flower bed. No animal tracks were evident.

My husband (engineer) claims that likely it was the combination of the ground freezing and thawing that made the root ball pop out of the ground (we had that strange weather where one day it was 40 degrees and the next 75 degrees). I choose to believe that my plants chose to find that Higher Path to Heaven, a place where their owner wouldn’t forget to water them or weed them.

But in spite of my losses, I am persevering. Here are a few shots of my garden for you to enjoy. Probably a week from now they’ll be dead and shriveled, but for now, they look okay.

How about you? Do you enjoy planting a garden, or do your plants try to commit suicide also?