December 3, 2013
I always face a bit of a dilemma whenever an author friend's book is released. On the one hand, I want to pimp the hell out of their book because I want it to do well. On the other hand, I know that if I do that, there's a decent chance people won't believe me when I say “This book is awesome!” because “She's just saying that because her friend wrote it.”
My friend Stephanie Dray has a book out today called "Daughters of the Nile," and yes, I'm going to pimp the hell out of it. And in the interests of full disclosure, you get the full story of this author friendship so that you understand why I am telling you to buy this book, and why I am not
just saying that because she's my friend.
Stephanie and I are both Berkley Books authors, but we lived on opposite sides of the country and had never met. She had a book about Cleopatra's daughter coming out, called “Lily of the Nile” - and she'd apparently read and enjoyed my book “Mistress of Rome,” so she asked her editor if I might consider reading “Lily” for a cover quote. My editor asked me (the deadline was tight), I said “Sure, I read fast, send it over.” And the book apparently vanished in a puff of smoke from the Berkley mail-stream, disappeared into the ether, and reappeared forty-eight hours later in exactly the same place, faintly singed and smelling of brimstone and definitely NOT in my hands. By then it was too late for a cover quote, even if they'd re-mailed it. So I didn't blurb “Lily of the Nile,” and Stephanie was merely told “Yeah, the quote's not happening.” She later told me she plunged into a gloomy “Kate Quinn hates my book!” funk, and ate a pint of gelato for dinner.
But I read “Lily of the Nile” when it hit the shelves, and I liked it. The heroine was smart, and I love a smart heroine. She was just a teenager, but this was no YA chick moping about her love triangle; Stephanie had made Selene the survivor's-guilt-ridden heir to the complicated legacy of Cleopatra and Mark Antony: bitter, damaged, ambitious, devious, and proud. I liked that even better. So I dropped Stephanie an email about how much I'd enjoyed the book, and told the story of the post-office snafu, and she jumped on that and asked if I might blurb the second Selene book. I read “Song of the Nile,” and I liked it even better. Selene had grown up into a vengeful, passionate, seductive, scheming priestess-queen, and if that weren't enough, she had the world's creepiest love-hate relationship with Emperor Augustus (who “I, Claudius” fans will have a VERY hard time identifying as affable Brian Blessed from the mini-series). So I was happy to write a cover quote for “Song of the Nile,” and when the hubby and I moved out to Maryland a year or so later—Stephanie's state of residence—she took me out for a thank-you lunch.
Authors are always a little nervous on meeting each other in person. “I liked your books so much—what if I don't like you?” Or “I like you a lot, but I've tried your books and I just hate them . . . what do I say?” So Stephanie and I eyed each other over the napkins at an Indian restaurant with a certain unease at first, but that wore off fast. Because we'd both read and genuinely enjoyed each other's books before either meeting in person or ever needing a favor like a cover quote out of each other, and that's a good place to start. Soon enough we were gabbing it up about Isis worship, Emperor Augustus, Latin profanity, Bernard Cornwell, crazy Amazon reviews, and everything else under the sun. Lunch turned into coffee turned into a Barnes & Noble run, and it was the start of a beautiful friendship. (Stephanie blogged her own version of our meeting here
, and I will state for the record that I don't drive that
fast, and we were nowhere near being arrested, and I said the exact same thing to the cops.)
Fast-forward a couple of years, and Stephanie is now one of the best author friends I've got. We get together on book launch days, and forcibly stop each other from checking our Amazon Sales Rankings. We've complained about sales trends, crazy hate-mail, and headless-heroine covers. We missed a plane flight at 1am, coming back from the Historical Novel Society conference, and like a pair of Roman empresses we planned evisceration and crucifixion for the hapless cretins of United Airways who caused the screw-up. We've bitched about one-star reviews. We have a running joke about hippos that never
I was there at Ground Zero when Stephanie wrote “Daughters of the Nile,” the concluding book to her trilogy about Cleopatra Selene. I talked her off a ledge when she was convinced she couldn't write a metaphor anymore. I commiserated about an early version of her cover, which we called “Troll of the Nile” because Selene looked like a hunchback. I beta-read her rough draft: “This scene in the reeds is swoon-worthy! But your epilogue needs work; what about this . . .”
“Daughters of the Nile” is out in stores today, and I feel like a proud auntie. I want to see which of those three different endings Stephanie put in (I voted for Version #2, when the panicked “Which of these is the best???” email went out 12 hours before deadline). I've read this book in rough-draft form, and even without the final polishing it's since received, I can tell you it's dark, mesmerizing historical fiction: the final gut-wrenching act in the twisted car-wreck of a relationship between Selene and her mentor-suitor-madman Emperor Augustus. There's tragedy to punch you in the gut, and tenderness to make you cry, and moments that will just plain prickle your hair. I'm taking Stephanie out to lunch today, and after lunch we're heading to B&N so I can buy my copy of “Daughters of the Nile.”
And I tell you with zero fake “I'm supporting my friend” enthusiasm that you should buy it, too.
From critically acclaimed historical fantasy author, Stephanie Dray comes the long-awaited new tale based on the true story of Cleopatra's daughter.
After years of abuse as the emperor’s captive in Rome, Cleopatra Selene has found a safe harbor. No longer the pitiful orphaned daughter of the despised Egyptian Whore, the twenty year old is now the most powerful queen in the empire, ruling over the kingdom of Mauretania—an exotic land of enchanting possibility where she intends to revive her dynasty. With her husband, King Juba II and the magic of Isis that is her birthright, Selene brings prosperity and peace to a kingdom thirsty for both. But when Augustus Caesar jealously demands that Selene’s children be given over to him to be fostered in Rome, she’s drawn back into the web of imperial plots and intrigues that she vowed to leave behind. Determined and resourceful, Selene must shield her loved ones from the emperor’s wrath, all while vying with ruthless rivals like King Herod. Can she find a way to overcome the threat to her marriage, her kingdom, her family, and her faith? Or will she be the last of her line?
Read the Reviews
"A stirring story of a proud, beautiful, intelligent woman whom a 21st century reader can empathize with. Dray's crisp, lush prose brings Selene and her world to life." ~RT Book Reviews
"The boldest, and most brilliant story arc Dray has penned..." ~Modge Podge Reviews
"If you love historical fiction and magical realism, these books are for you." ~A Bookish Affair
Read an Excerpt
Below me, six black Egyptian cobras dance on their tails, swaying. I watch their scaled hoods spread wide like the uraeus on the crown of Egypt. Even from this height, I'm paralyzed by the sight of the asps, their forked tongues flickering out between deadly fangs. I don't notice that I'm gripping the balustrade until my knuckles have gone white, all my effort concentrated upon not swooning and falling to my death.
And I would swoon if I were not so filled with rage. Someone has arranged for this. Someone who knows what haunts me. Someone who wants to send me a message and make this occasion a moment of dread. My husband, the king must know it, for he calls down, "That's enough. We've seen enough of the snake charmer!"
There is commotion below, some upset at having displeased us. Then Chryssa hisses, "Who could think it a good idea to honor the daughter of Cleopatra by coaxing asps from baskets of figs?"
The story the world tells of my mother's suicide is that she cheated the emperor of his conquest by plunging her hand into a basket where a venomous serpent lay in wait. A legend only, some say, for the serpent was never found. But I was there. I brought her that basket. She was the one bitten but the poison lingers in my blood to this day. I can still remember the scent of figs in my nostrils, lush and sweet. The dark god Anubis was embroidered into the woven reeds of the basket, the weight of death heavy in my arms. I can still see my mother reach her hand into that basket, surrendering her life so that her children might go on without her. And I have gone on without her.
I have survived too much to be terrorized by the emperor's agents or whoever else is responsible for this.
If it is a message, a warning from my enemies, I have already allowed them too much of a victory by showing any reaction at all. So I adopt as serene a mask as possible. My daughter blinks her big blue eyes, seeing past my facade. "Are you frightened, Mother? They cannot bite us from there. The snakes are very far away."
I get my legs under me, bitterness on my tongue. "Oh, but they're never far enough away."
Available now in print and e-book!
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo | Powells | IndieBound | Goodreads
Available now in print and e-book!
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo | Powells | IndieBound | Goodreads
STEPHANIE DRAY is a bestselling, multi-published, award-winning author of historical women’s fiction and fantasy set in the ancient world. Her critically acclaimed historical series about Cleopatra’s daughter has been translated into more than six different languages, was nominated for a RITA Award and won the Golden Leaf. Her focus on Ptolemaic Egypt and Augustan Age Rome has given her a unique perspective on the consequences of Egypt's ancient clash with Rome, both in terms of the still-extant tensions between East and West as well as the worldwide decline of female-oriented religion. Before she wrote novels, Stephanie was a lawyer, a game designer, and a teacher. Now she uses the transformative power of magic realism to illuminate the stories of women in history and inspire the young women of today. She remains fascinated by all things Roman or Egyptian and has-to the consternation of her devoted husband-collected a house full of cats and ancient artifacts.
November 26, 2013
Happy Turkey Day! Guests are about to descend on us all like locusts devouring everything in their path, and I'm sure we're all starting to sweat about the oyster dressing and the pumpkin pie and the turkey, my God, it will never be done in time. Me no exception. What I'd love to have for Thanksgiving is the services of my last book heroine, a pro chef who could whip out a Thanksgiving dinner for thirty without even breaking a sweat. Even if they didn't have Thanksgiving in Renaissance Italy.
Still, a Renaissance Thanksgiving Day feast from Carmelina's talented hands would be quite a spread. And if you're bored with the usual turkey-and-mashed potatoes fare, why not throw yourself a Renaissance-themed dinner instead? Here you are, complete with recipes straight from The Serpent and the Pearl
Most of my recipes for this book were culled direct from real-life Renaissance chef extraordinaire, Bartolomeo Scappi—and il maestro
had very specific directions when it came to the pre-dinner spread:
The side-board should be furnished with these things: with jellies, visciola cherries, morello cherries, quince and quince pastes, Neapolitan and Roman mostaccioli, several shapes of marzipan creations . . . always rolled wafers and small ciambelle of raw dates, pistacios, pinenuts, and Milanese almonds, dried figs of various sorts, several sorts of olives and small capers, compote of fennel and other fruits . . . caravella pears, papal pears, acciole pears, riccardo pears, rough pears, bergamot pears, Florentine pears, and other sorts of pear . . .
Clearly seven kinds of pear aren't enough to fill up your guests, because he goes on to list the types of cheeses (March, Florengine, Romagnola, Roman, Ligurian, Majorcan, fresh and dry, ewe's milk, mozzarella) and salamis (salsiccioni, mortadelle, prosciutto, sowbelli, salt ox tongues, buffalo tongues, pork tongues, semi-salted cow meat, salted steer meat, salt pork belly, and pork jowl) you should stock up on as well. By the time a typical Renaissance side-board was set up, your guests would be full and waddling home without even touching the meal.
For your Thanksgiving, keep it simple and stick to a classic tray of cheeses, meats, fruits, and nuts. Come to think of it, Scappi is probably where we got the idea in the first place.
Try the asparagus soup in beef broth which Carmelina serves to a visiting archbishop. Heather Webb (of upcoming debut novel on Empress Josephine) made a wonderful creamy modern version
for a blog hop.
Renaissance salads couldn't be simpler: a big dish of lettuce sprinkled with bright blue borage flowers, like the one Carmelina muses serving to the College of Cardinals. (Borage gives you courage, according to legend—just what scheming cardinals and family get-togethers alike both need). Dress this lovely simple salad with a plain vinaigrette.
Elaborate entrees are par for the course in Renaissance cuisine, where meals were set to impress as much as nourish. If you're feeling ambitious (and have a good butcher on hand like d'Artagnan's or Savenor's) try this gorgeous shoulder of boar with dates, prunes, and cherries,
as cooked by food blogger Deana of Long Past Remembered in my last blog hop. Or if you want to stick with something fowl for Thanksgiving, go with a capon or big free-range chicken instead of the usual turkey. Just cook two if you've got a crowd coming, and then you can cook both the Capon in Coriander and White Wine
recipe which is Carmelina's favorite (replicated here by Lori of Little White Apron) and the Capon with Lime
version Carmelina plans for Cardinal Borgia (replicated by Sara at Cupcake Muffin, and it's delicious).
A cheese and onion tourte
like the one Carmelina made her first five minutes in the Borgia kitchens will fill the bill nicely, and Theresa of Outlander Kitchen and Island Vittles made a beauty! Round things out with a dish that makes an appearance in the forthcoming “The Lion and the Rose”—baked macaroni layered with provatura cheese and butter. Kitchen apprentice Bartolomeo offers to make it for Carmelina when she's feeling blue “because pasta with a great deal of butter and cheese cures all.” Amen—so dust off your mom's tried-and-true mac n' cheese recipe.
They loved their sweets in the Renaissance, and they weren't afraid to get fancy! Marzipan, molded sugar subtleties, cakes and tarts of all kinds . . . but keep things simple at the end of a heavy meal with these light and autumnal desserts: the peaches in grappa
Giulia Farnese eats at her wedding feast, the spicy baked apples
she comfort-eats the next morning to get over a disappointing wedding night (another recipe from Lori), and the milk-snow
(a sort of glorified, stiffened medieval whipped cream reproduced gloriously at Inn at the Crossroads) she takes to bed with a much more satisfying lover later down the line.
A hot posset with red wine and spices,
of course! Chelsea from “Inn At The Crossroads” has a lovely recipe. And to go with, how about some sugared Renaissance biscotti
from Christiane at “Taking On Magazines”?
Happy eating, and happy Thanksgiving!
November 16, 2013
“Write what you know” is probably some of the worst advice for writers ever. Even authors of modern-day fiction have their problems with that old chestnut. Tom Clancy may have set all his books in the same 20th century America in which he lived, but he didn't write about writers, he wrote about spec-war operatives, even if he'd never been one. And historical novelists do a special kind of hair-tearing when we hear “Write what you know” because we really
don't know what we write about. No amount of research will make me know
what it's like to watch slaves die in the Colosseum, and Margaret George will never know
what it's like to be Helen of Troy either, and that didn't stop either of us from writing about it anyway.
I sometimes like to think “Write WHO you know” instead. As long as I can remember, I've indulged in an idle game called “When Should They Have Been Born?” Any serious fan of historical fiction harbors the conviction from time to time that we were really born in the wrong century. So whenever I was bored to tears in class, or weekly meetings, or family gatherings (which was most of the time), I'd go around the room deciding what century everybody really belonged in, according to their personality. And boy, did the book ideas start flowing.
My acerbic librarian mother who prefers dogs, books, and herbs to the company of people? A Benedictine nun in medieval England, brewing up herbal tinctures and illuminating manuscripts and breaking her vow of silence to coo at the dog she isn't supposed to keep in her monastic cell. A great character for a Middle Ages novel.
My husband, a Navy sailor who'd have made a great Viking raider, swinging a sword over one shoulder and taking his longship out to the edge of the known world and never, ever getting seasick. A made-to-order hero for an epic battles-and-blood Norse tale.
My long-deceased feminist grandmother with her paisley scarves and her wry wit: a born reformer who should have been a 1912 suffragette. She'd be chaining herself to the railing of Number 10 Downing Street and going on hunger strike at Holloway Prison; a dowager in a fabulous hat and a “Votes For Women” banner who could have mentored Lady Sybil from “Downton Abbey.”
My much-tattooed kickboxing instructor has a streak of benign sadism that could definitely have belonged to a Roman centurion . . . my other grandmother is one of those Depression-era Steinbeck matriarchs in black and white who keeps her family together through disaster after disaster . . . my jazz musician father could have doubled for a handsome court musician under Empress Maria Theresa . . . how many book ideas have I gotten, just from looking around at a family gathering or a gym class?
Now, I may not end up writing all those books. I don't really see myself writing a blood-and-battle Viking epic, largely because Bernard Cornwell with his Saxon Stories (among many others) has already covered it so well. But sometimes you do get a solid book idea out of a real person. Case in point, my husband's grandmother: a fiery Sicilian whose cooking could make angels weep, and who would absolutely smack you on the head with a wooden spoon and threaten excommunication if you committed the crime of breaking the pasta into the pot instead of folding it. I had a “eureka” moment and transplanted her personality more or less intact to Renaissance Italy. My husband's grandma ended up personal chef to the Borgia Pope in my last book—and she may be in her nineties now in the 21st century, but she's absolutely tickled to think that in some alternate life she got to cook for a Pope, defraud a convent, and have a one-night stand with Cesare Borgia.
Don't write what you know—write who
you know. Look around you at the next boring board meeting or family gathering. What century do these people really belong in? Maybe you'll find the hero of your next historical novel.
November 9, 2013
The Lion and the Rose
will be released in less than two months on January 7—and I've included a New Year's treat. Tucked in the back will be a teaser chapter from the forthcoming sequel to Empress of the Seven Hills
. Not just any chapter, either. Lots of readers have asked me the following questions: “Will Vix ever go home to Britannia?” and “Will we ever see Arius and Thea from Mistress of Rome
Yes, and yes. That's the scene tucked into the back of The Lion and the Rose
. And for you now, a snippet from Vix's eyes when he goes home for the first time in nearly twenty years:
My feet were soundless on the grass as I approached the garden, but the man whipped about before I got a step further, one gnarled hand dropping his trowel and drawing the dagger at his waist instead. He was up in a crouch and ready to face me in an eyeblink, and his shoulders were bent and his hair entirely gray, but that crisp secutor stance could have graced any arena in Rome. And had.
“You haven’t gotten slow with age,” I told my father. “But you still can’t garden worth a tribune’s arse.”
The rest of the scene awaits you at the back of The Lion and the Rose
. Hope you enjoy!
October 17, 2013
It's about two and a half months until “The Lion and the Rose” is released—the second half of my Borgia duology about papal mistress Giulia Farnese and her two friends, the cynical dwarf bodyguard Leonello and the sharp-tongued female cook Carmelina. If you'd like to get your hands on an early copy of L&R, here's your chance, because I'm running a very special kind of giveaway.
Lots of readers have written to tell me how much they swooned over all the delicious food in “The Serpent and the Pearl” - I even set up a virtual potluck with food bloggers cooking dishes straight out of the book. I had such a blast seeing the food pics that came out of my own pages that I'm extending a challenge: any reader who cooks a dish out of “The Serpent and the Pearl” will be eligible to win an advance copy of “The Lion and the Rose.”
So, here are the rules:
1. Choose a dish out of “The Serpent and the Pearl” that hasn't been made yet.
2. Cook your chosen dish. Just be aware that some of the things my Renaissance heroines eat are illegal in the 21st century—don't get fined for trying to cook a swan!
3. Email a pic of you with your finished dish to email@example.com, along with a few words on how you cooked it and how it turned out. (Even if it's a disaster. Because kitchen disasters can be hilarious!)
4. For every dish you cook, I'll enter your name into a random drawing. And if you attempt something truly awesome, I'll enter your name in twice. Because let's be fair—if someone makes a stab at spit-roasted peacock or whole truffled sea bass in champagne-caviar sauce, they deserve a double entry.
5. And that's it! On November 1, I'll pull two names out of the hat and mail my two winners an advance copy of "The Lion and the Rose."
So, who's ready to start cooking?
October 4, 2013
By the time this posts, I'll be in Bermuda on the first vacation out of the US that I've had in four years - to Bermuda, where I was four years ago on my honeymoon! But I've got a guest blog post scheduled on Campaign For The American Reader, this one "the Page 69 Test." Namely, what would any reader think, if they opened your book to page 69?
Anybody who did that that for "The Serpent and the Pearl" would probably think "Why's this chick talking to a severed hand?" Or maybe they'd think they wandered into an Addams Family spin-off. Who knows? But to read more, click here!
September 25, 2013
Guest blogging over at Enchanted by Josephine/HF Book Muse today! Topic? One of my pet peeve cliches in historical fiction:
"So here's a pet peeve of mine when it comes to books: I'm tired of drop-dead gorgeous heroines. I have nothing against attractive characters in books, mind you. We watch movies in part to enjoy the sight of pretty people, after all, and books have a similar escapism. But too often in bad books, we have to wade through a lot of repetitive rhapsodizing about the heroine's flawless profile and perfect skin, and she can never enter a room without every man in it falling with a thud at her feet. In real life, beauty that spectacular is rare—so why does it have to be so common in books?"
(Wish fulfillment, anyone?)
To read the rest, click here!
And be sure to check back tomorrow, because Lucy's doing a review and giveaway (thank you, Lucy!)
September 24, 2013
Busy week! I've got the Baltimore Book Festival this Friday - come see me at the Maryland Romance Writers tent for a panel on the ins and outs of writing historical fiction! (1pm sharp; see you there.)
And today, I'm over at Writers Read, talking for a nice of pace not about my own book, but about other people's. What's on my reading list? Tudor spies, Venetian glass, Elizabeth Bennet, and nanobots. Yep, that's how I roll.
For titles (and these are some great titles), click here!
September 16, 2013
I don't know about you, but I adore food blogs. I've got an entire list that I
follow. And the fun part is how food and books are mixing these days: food bloggers are hitting the pages, cooking favorite recipes out of food-heavy books and blogging about it.
So when I wrote my own food-heavy book, I knew I had to at least try to set up a virtual pot-luck. I never dreamed the result would be so mouth-watering: six fabulous food-bloggers dove into "The Serpent and the Pearl" in search of recipes. Theresa from Outlander Kitchen and Island Vittles, who cooks from Diana Gabaldon's fabulous Scottish saga; Chelsea from Inn At The Crossroads, who recently co-authored a fabulous cookbook based on "Game of Thrones" recipes; Christiane from Taking On Magazines, who cooks her way through the likes of "Better Homes and Gardens" and "Bon Appetit" utterly undaunted; Lori from Little White Apron who is a pro chef as well as a blogger extraordinaire; Deana from Long Past Remembered who recreates food from myriad centuries gone by; and Heather Webb from Between The Sheets who took time off from her upcoming debut novel
on Empress Josephine to indulge her foodie hobby.
And today, we're all posting our results! Recipes included.
Inn At The Crossroads
- The crostata
of summer peaches that Carmelina is making when Juan Borgia decides to make a pass at her. (Big mistake: cooks always have cleavers on hand.)
- The tourte
of sweet cheese and Genovese onions that Carmelina cooks for Giulia's wedding feast.
Little White Apron
- The baked apples that Carmelina serves Giulia the morning after her wedding, and the capon with garlic, coriander and white wine that is her favorite chicken recipe.
Long Past Remembered
- The shoulder of wild boar that Carmelina ponders serving a visiting archbishop.
Taking On Magazines
- The sugared biscotti that form a staple munchie throughout the book, and the elderflower fritters Giulia tries to make (and ends up nearly destroying Carmelina's kitchen)
Between The Sheets
- The asparagus zuppa
and the zabaglione
which Carmelina's apprentice Bartolomeo whips up on a country trip to impress her.
As for me, I donned my sous chef
apron and did a lot of "Oui, chef"
fetching and carrying from the fridge as my husband (he's the culinary genius of the family) tackled a recipe from Chapter 2 of The Serpent and the Pearl
Hot Sops With Cherries
From the book:
It's a bit tricky, knowing what to send up to the bride's chamber the morning after her wedding . . . If you hear giggling and whispering through the door, you send up something light than can be eaten by two, preferably fed to each other with the fingers while making a great deal of mess that can be kissed away with more giggles. A hot sop with morello cherries works well--strips of butter-fried bread and a dipping sauce of cherries and sugared wine always goes down a treat with hungry young lovers.
This is a recipe I got direct from that classic Renaissance cookbook "L'Opera di Bartolomeo Scappi." Hot sops are a dish that has gone out of fashion in the modern era: toasted bread with some kind of dipping sauce that could be meat-based or fruit-based; sweet or savory. It was a popular Renaissance snack, and a staple food for those who had trouble eating (the old, the ill, the very young). Happily, this dish is just as delicious in the 21st century for gourmets of any age. The cherries are both sweet and spicy, and the bread fries up crisp and mouth-watering. Carmelina is right: this is a dish to be shared between two, with kisses in between bites.
Serves 2 -- Prep: 15 minutes
1 can cherries in water (NOT cherry pie filling)
4 slices good fresh-baked artisan bread
1 cup red wine
4 tsp sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
1. Butter the bread slices on both sides, and fry in a skillet over medium heat, flipping once. Set aside.
2. Reduce heat to medium. Drain the cherries and add to a medium saucepan (we improvised with a wok) and add the wine plus 4 tsp sugar, and 1 tsp each cinnamon and nutmeg.
3. Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently until liquid reduces down to thick syrupy texture, adding more sugar or spices to taste.
4. Serve in a bowl with fried bread for dipping. Messy in the best possible way!
Be sure to check in on the others for some more great recipes! And as for the food bloggers who kicked in on this project - Lori, Heather, Christiane, Chelsea, Deana, and especially Theresa who was chief in helping put the whole thing together - thank you all so much!
September 13, 2013
Color me nervous--somehow I ended up in a joint author signing tomorrow. And who am I sitting down with? Mary Blayney, Elaine Fox, Mary Kay McComas, R. C. Ryan, Victoria Roberts, Leslie Kelly, Suzy Duffy . . . and Nora Roberts! (First order of business? Don't hyperventilate upon meeting the great Ms. R.)
I'm even getting interviewed by the Herald Mail in advance, talking about everything from tomorrow's signing to the 121 pages of pure awful that was my very first book. Best of all, I love the article's title: "Living In The Past To Pay For The Future." Yep, that's a pretty good description of what I do.
to read, and get details on tomorrow's event in Boonsboro MD! Forget coming to see me, come see Nora Roberts . . .