Sourcebooks Casablanca Romance Authors

Okay, so who's singing? You know: "I'm Mr.... " oops, guess I can't post the lyrics. Copyright violation. So I'll just point you to this (and let them worry about the copyright): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbfgVEk-mxQ But as I look at all these summery posts, my inner Heat Miser rears his red-headed head. I hate summer. I know, I know, I'm odd. Trust me, I've heard it all. I hate the heat. I hate to sweat. I hate mowing the lawn. Give me winter and some snow to shovel and I'm thrilled, but make me have to slather on SPF 50 and carry around one of those personal cooling devices (which a Child has commandeered, so there goes that little bit of relief), actually have to wear shoes because I'll burn my soles... No thank you. Plus, we have kids home who are "bored" (seriously? how can you be bored? There are chores to do, a LAWN to mow... Really? Bored? Come talk to mama, kiddos. I'll show you how un-bored you can be) ...

We here in the mid-Atlantic region were not living the traditional "April showers bring May flowers" thing. It's been kinda dry. Well, it's no longer dry and my grass seems to have sprung up overnight (as grass and children are wont to do). It started raining Saturday night (when Stephanie Julian and I were driving home (NY to PA) from a Book Obsessed Chicks gathering/signing) and it hasn't stopped since. Bad stuff has been raining down, too, unfortunately, but I won't talk about that. Though some prayers for 2 of my extended family members wouldn't be remiss. But good writing stuff has been raining down, too. I finally got the cover for my August release, Magic Gone Wild. Isn't it pretty? This is my blurb for the book. marketing is still working on the official one: Zane Harrison opens an old trunk in the attic of his family’s ancestral home to find Vana. The genie. A famously inept genie as it turns out—which explains so much about why ...

I know, I know. 13 is supposed to be un lucky. But I've never exactly been a traditional sort of person. That could have something to do with the fact that I was born on the 13th. I consider that very lucky--that I was born, that is. You know, when you think about the odds, it's like 8 billion to one that you would turn out to be you. One quicker little wiggle by the sperm swimming beside the one that made you, and you'd be someone else. You could even be the opposite gender. Tall instead of "average." A genius instead of... well, not. Or maybe not instead of a genius. (I, personally, think all of my readers are geniuses, but that could just be me...) I always tell my kids to be thankful for what they have because, you know, one little mishap, one misplaced gene, and it could all be so different. I also remind them that they're the sperm that won. (TM) [Yes, I am trademarking that. I came up with it; it's mine. But feel free to use it with proper attributi...