Sourcebooks Casablanca Romance Authors

Gina Conkle’s blog last week, about the Cinderella twist in The Lady Meets Her Match , reminded me that fairy tales are the gift that keeps on giving. First, in their original form—whether written by Perrault, Andersen, or the Brothers Grimm, then, for all the countless variations and adaptations they inspire. Cinderella alone has more than 300 variants, which English folklorist Marian Roalfe Cox (1860-1916) compiled in a single volume in 1893. The research geek in me would love to get my hands on that book, someday. Most of us were probably introduced to the girl with the missing shoe through Charles Perrault’s version from 17 th century France, but she has also appeared throughout the ages in China, Italy, Scotland, and Germany (the version referenced in Stephen Sondheim’s fairy-tale musical, Into the Woods ). Modern authors and filmmakers have likewise introduced their own takes on fairy-tales, sometimes by changing no more than an element or two. But alter the outcome...

Not long ago, someone gave me a giant can of coconut water. This wasn’t quite as random as it sounds, because the giver knows I like coconut. Actually, I’d go so far as to say I really like it. The coconut thingies are always my favorites in a box of chocolates. I’m not fond of getting caught in the rain, but I sure do enjoy piña coladas. Have you ever learned about a person’s favorite, or collection, and made that your first association with him or her? Like—to give a totally hypothetical example that is not something I ever did—if you learn a friend collects penguins, and then every gift you give him for five years has a penguin on it.  In my circle of acquaintances, this has become true for me and coconut in all its forms. Of which this is the best. Now, I know what you’re about to say: that coconut water smells pretty good, but it tastes like dirty grass clippings.* I totally agree. But it has the magic word “coconut” in the name, and thus I am occasion...

By Robin Kaye I’ve been an avid collector of two things for as long as I can remember—Books and music. I’ve kept them with me all my life though seven states, and 35+ moves. When I was younger, I could name every move, in order, and I could have given you the street address too. I’m not sure I’d be able to remember my every move now, but when an old song comes on the radio, or the iPod, I can tell you where I lived when it was popular. It’s the same with books. I know I lived in Mount Laurel, NJ the year Elton John’s Philadelphia Freedom was all the rage and read Judy Blume’s Forever and Louis Nizer’s Reflections Without Mirrors. I lived in Reston, VA when a friend of my mother’s let me hang out at her apartment and read her prized collection of Wizard Of Oz books in exchange for walking her dog every day after school. That was the same year the songs Wildfire and Shannon brought tears to my eyes along with the book, Watership Downs. I read JRR Tolkein’s The Hobbit and Jeffrey Archer’s...