Sunday, May 31, 2015

Falling Off the Wagon

“I’ve got friends in low places…” okay, the falling off the wagon referenced in this week’s blog title isn’t about alcohol or drugs. I’ve fallen off the New Year’s resolution wagon. And I’m not even counting my weight loss resolution. No, I’m talking about my romance reading goals.

I started with such great intentions, no buying any more books until I finished all of the unread ones on my Kindle. They were piling up like crazy and truly driving me crazy thinking them. For the sake of my sanity, I had to reduce their ranks. It was definitely an ambitious goal (you do remember The Craving right?) but then I got realistic and immediately amended the goal so free books didn’t count.

 Well, I did pretty well. I didn’t break my word until last week—kinda. Actually, the wheels started falling off my resolution pretty early. In January I bought a paperback. The book was almost twenty years old and I got in a half price bookstore while on vacation. What am I, a saint? So that didn’t count. Amazon Prime kept reminding me of my monthly free books and in the grips of the The Craving, I picked up a few books. Hey, I didn’t buy them, so that was okay. But the guilt set in, and the books weren’t that great, so back to Amazon they went. I promised myself no more Prime slipping. Two months ago I convinced myself library books weren’t cheating. Bad idea. And of course, I needed to support my friends, so I bought five of their books a month ago. Oy. Last week I finally cracked, really cracked. It was only 99 cents, practically free. But that slip led to me buying a paperback of a favorite author. It had been a rough week and the book had been on my wish list for weeks—don’t judgeJ But, I’m sliding down a slippery slope, so I’ve decided to put the brakes back on. I’m almost at goal, just seven more books to go. I just need to hold on a little longer, read a little faster and stop opening those damn Book Bub offers!

So how are your New Year’s resolution’s coming along? I hope better than mine. If not, it isn’t too late to recommit, 2015 is still young.

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Memorial Day and My Dad

My father was a Vietnam Veteran. Like many who served during this era, he was ambivalent about his service and was conflicted about war in general. To be honest he didn’t really speak of his time in the army. Almost all that I know about his time in Vietnam came from pictures of a cute younger version of my dad and short snippets that I heard from my mother and grandmother. I learned he was never in combat, but I took greater pride when my grandmother explained that my dad was too smart to be on the front lines, instead he worked with confidential documents. Unfortunately, I never did find out some of our country’s secrets from him J

This is my first Memorial Day without my dad. And just as we think about those men and women who gave their lives for their country on this day, I can’t help but think of my dad. I hope everyone has a wonderful Memorial Day weekend and between barbeques and parties with friends, you give a thought to those important to you, whether they served in the military or not, whether they have passed away or are still with you.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Tattoo My Heart, or My Sleeve

I don’t know if it is a mid-life crisis or what, but I want a tattoo. No, I’m not turning 40 (been there, done that) or getting divorced (I hope not) but I do have the urge to shake things up. I’m a pretty mundane person but I do have an alterna streak that runs through me and every couple of years the craving to do something different takes over. At 24 I found bellydancing, at 29 I got my nosed pierced, by 35 I got my first tattoo and now I want a third.

I love tattoos. I love their artistry, I love their sexiness, and I love how they can be unexpected and so out of the box. Okay, I love how they make me feel like a bad-ass. So I’ve been thinking of getting another one. I was a good girl when I got my first two tattoos, I made sure they were in places they couldn’t be seen unless I wanted them to be. Now I want one in a more visible spot, one I can admire on a daily basis. The problem is, of course, my 9-5. But I’m so tempted. As I get older the more I appreciate the idea that life is too short and that you have do what makes you happy. A visible tattoo would make my simple soul happy. And the young'uns are making it hard to resist temptation. They are getting more and more obvious tattoos, jobs be damned. In many ways they are winning. I see tattoos while being served in restaurants, in my doctors’ offices, and barely peaking from suits. Even my new boss has a visible tattoo. I know, it shocked the shit out of me. And again the temptation rears its ugly head.

Perhaps I need to write a bad-ass character with lots of tattoos everywhere. I would give my newest love interest Eli tons of tats, but she’s a professional and can’t have any visible ones either, drat. Oh well, maybe the hero of my next book. Meanwhile I’m still debating whether I should be good or just enjoy being bad—in long sleeves at work J

Saturday, May 9, 2015

Mom, What's Not To Love?

Drip, drop

Rain flip flops

Pitter, patter

Skitter, scatter

Plops, plops, plops

Behold the first poem I ever wrote. I was either in the second or third grade. After reading it, my mother thought I was a writing genius. I kid you not. Now, for an elementary kid’s class assignment, it wasn’t bad. But the reason mother loved it so was because I wrote it. She was being supportive of me, and hopeful that her enthusiasm might turn into my promise. My mom’s faith in me is one of the reasons I am a writer today.

 When I was thirteen my mother and I were in a drugstore where I spied a book that caught my attention and wouldn’t let go. A hard bodied blond man on the cover clutching a beautiful scantily dressed female is definitely an eye opener for a teen. I saw that book and had to have it. My mother was used to me asking her to buy a book every week. I suppose she’d rather spend her money on reading materials than clothes or whatever else teens desired. However, this was the first time I had asked her for a bodice ripper. Jane Austen this was not. And yet with almost no hesitation, she put it on the counter with the rest of her purchases. Captive Caress (yes, she bought me a book titled Captive Caress) opened my eyes to romance novels and I haven’t looked back since. It is a love that has lasted me for decades and for that I must thank my mother.

Seymore’s belief that I could do anything (including write) and her willingness to indulge me in a new passion (Captive Caress wasn’t the last romance novel she bought me, as you can guess) has molded me into the writer I am today. On this Mother’s Day I’d like to thank my mother for being a great person and an even better mom. Hopefully she’s reading this blog post and smiling down on me.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of the moms out there, you deserve every accolade you receive!

Saturday, May 2, 2015

All About Mila

This week I had the pleasure of being interviewed by contemporary and paranormal author Constance Phillips. Stop by her blog and learn a little more about me and some great romance writers at .