I’m writing this letter to inform you that your sons, Heat and Snow are either confused or highly disturbed. I feel that I can tell you this because of the bond you and I acquired when I was a newly divorced woman and you sent a good majority of the hurricanes to the state my ex resides in.

You see, last week, the sun was shining and I was elated. So elated in fact that one of my neighbors accused me of being :booze: because he caught me acting out of character. I was actually nice. When I explained that it was the sun by singing the words of John Denver–”Sunshine on my shoulders, makes me happy.” He still didn’t buy it. I’m pretty sure he’s now very afraid of me. This week, however has me behaving like my true Zodiac sign–Cancer. I’m burrowed beneath the sand, holed up in my shell. I’m crabby because it’s freezing and it’s almost May!

Perhaps, Snow Miser is upset and or jealous because while I usually prefer tall men I simply can’t resist Heat’s warm personality and cozy charm. Quite frankly, Heat has melted my heart.

I would deeply appreciate it if you could step in and make your boys come to some sort of compromise like you did back in 1974. And while you’re at it, if you could tell Jack Frost that his nipping at my nose is quite old and getting more than a little annoying, I’d appreciate it.

Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.

My friend Stace and I used to be partners in crime. Where one would be, the other would follow. We were two peas in a pod and we used to get into trouble–well, usually it was ME. You see, Saturday was her official adoption day and we went to the signing and I forgot to tell her Happy Adoption Day. I feel like an ass, because this was supposed to be a thing that we did together where I didn’t end up in detention. You see, our Senior year, I skipped school with her. We hung out at her house out in the country and although my memory of what we actually did on that day is nonexistant the thing about Stace is we had fun doing nothing.

So, Stace, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I missed you yesterday after the power went out….

I’m also sorry that I didn’t have anyone take pictures of us on Wednesday. *sighs* I’m pretty sure both of us had our camera’s and not one picture was taken. Not one.

With a little help and a couple of detours, we arrived at the Hilton. We asked some very nice ladies where the signing was and headed up into a crowded elevator to our destination. And I’ll admit it was a tad overwhelming because I’m used to RWA and looking into a swarm of familar faces. On one hand, it was nice not to have a badge, on the other, I had to explain WHO I was. Because you know how famous I am, right? :spock:

Anyhow…haha

It was also kinda cool looking at the conference from a non-writer aspect. Stace sucked everything in with her usual smile. The very first familiar face I saw was Angie James. I had to tell her who I was. I also got to meet Susan Helene Gottfried and her friend–her name eludes me. I saw Susan a couple of times and it was pretty cool to put the face to the hysterical woman who graces me with her presence on the blog here. Then, I met Miss Chrissy from Samhain Publishing and Jennifer Martin. Some very nice ladies from Harlequin razzled and dazzled us with the Sony eReader. Stace got to fondle it more than I did. Then, we ventured out into the crowd where it was mixed feelings. Some people told us it wasn’t open to the public and others said it was. So, Stace and I tried to blend in as best as we could before paying for our stuff and getting out of dodge.

On the way out of the hotel, I spied this beautiful woman walking, looking like she just stepped off the runway. I have serious hair envy of this woman, plus she’s just so darned pretty. It was editor Susan Pezzack of Mira/Spice. With her, she had Lauren Dane, Anya Bast and another woman–forgive me, I didn’t spy your badge. Stace is a HUGE fan-girl of Anya, so we introduced them and it was so exciting to see Stace meet someone she loves as an author.

All in all, a fun night was had by all.

It’s in Pittsburgh this year and since I’m a hop, skip and a jump away I can’t not go to see people. Unfortunately, the entire conference wasn’t in my budget this year, however, buying some books is. I won’t be going to San Fran, unless a miracle happens, so this will be my fix. Tonight is the ebook signing and one of my best friends and I are heading down. I’ve brought her to the dark side. She reads now–a lot.

The hard part of this isn’t the Pittsburgh traffic, it’s deciding what to wear. At least it’s supposed to be warmer today. :cheer:

As writers, it’s sometimes hard when someone we know is reading our work. And by this, I mean people who may know we write, but aren’t our critique partners. It’s especially hard when we know the person reading it is going to give us the truth no matter how hard it’ll be to hear it. I’ve had a lot of great reviews from strangers for my first book. There’s no denying that getting a great review is an awesome feeling, however, when you hear things from friends or acquaintances or even strangers, it feels good–but I don’t know about the rest of you, but I wonder sometimes if friends don’t say, “Hey, this was a great book!” just because they’re your friends.

Kinda like the old question, “If this makes my butt look too fat or if I ever have lettuce in my teeth, you’ll tell me right?” We all know the friends who would and the others who’d let us walk around with lettuce in our teeth…

Kathy is a friend of mine and she isn’t afraid to tell me, good or bad. And it’s an odd friendship that we have because she’s the same age as my mom. But it works for us for the most part and the age difference doesn’t bother me in the least. She’s very honest and open and even though sometimes I don’t want to hear it–I need to hear it. Her husband asked me to get a book and autograph it for her for Christmas and I have to admit, I was nervous. As writers, I think we often wait for the shoe to drop. We keep waiting to hear how bad we suck. If I sucked, she’d be the on to tell me–delicately–but she’d tell me. Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t come right out and say, “Heather, you suck.”

Imagine my :love: flying up into my chest when I got an email from her with the subject of “I read your book, please take this as a compliment.” This is what she had to say and she asked me if it made sense and it so did. In fact, it made me cry and I had to pause a moment before I responded because I was so emotional.

I finally made time to sit down and read your book.  I started it at 2:00 in the afternoon and even with some interruptions, finished it at 11:00pm. I want you to take this as a compliment.  I’m not sure how to word it, but…

When I started reading it, it was…”I know this is going to be an ok read, because it’s Heather and she is cute and funny and I’m sure it comes across.”

The first two chapters my mind still had that thought, it’s just Heather here writing.

Then all of a sudden I realized I wasn’t thinking that anymore.  I was totally involved in the story, just as if I was reading a well established Harlequin writer, couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

So, I may not be able to convey very well what I mean, but just wanted you to know you rate right up there with those others. I can’t wait to read another.  Good luck and I hope God gives you many more ideas for your plots.

 

I totally got what she meant, totally took it as a compliment and considered it one of the best reviews I’ve ever gotten. Thank you, Kathy.

Next month, we’ll be together officially for eleven years. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like that long and other times, it feels longer. We’re both divorced and I’ve been okay ‘living in sin’. I wasn’t ready to take the plunge or regain entry into the institution of marriage, after all, I think marriage is also a state of mind and I feel married.

But.

I don’t know if it’s because the ripe age of forty is slowly creeping up on my door or if after thinking about what would happen if something bad happened to Mark…like in the event he should die…we’d not only lose him, we’d lose everything, including our home. Pennsylvania abolished common law marriages and my name isn’t on the mortgage. Or, it’s because I know I’m ready. Ready to take the plunge–deserving of having his last name after all these years? I don’t know what it is. I can’t say that I never felt this way before, because I have. Just not this strong, if that makes any sense. I mean, I’m part of his family and he is of me, but I want it to be official. And maybe it has something to do with his daughter. I get tired of calling her my future–especially since she feels like my now. In her own words, “You can really be my step mom.”

So, any time I bring up marriage, Mark gets this goofy look on his face. You know the one where their cheeks get red from their blood pressure rising. It’s also been a joke between us many times, so I think it’s hard for him to take this topic seriously sometimes. This last time was no exception. We’re on the front porch and I looked at him and said, “Let’s do it.”

Okay, so that was probably the wrong thing to say….*vbg* After I explain what I really mean, he says: “I’ll marry you if we can have sex every day for the next six months.”

“Nope,” I say.

“Okay, three times a week for three months.”

I shake my head. “I paid my dues, buddy. Besides, you’ll change the rules on me after three months.”

He gives me this big, lazy grin, the one that tells me he’s scheming.

“I can do one better,” I tell him. He sits up, leans forward and gets a gleam in his eyes. “How about until we get married…” the youngest one comes up onto the porch and asks his dad to play catch. “that instead of doing what you suggested…” I pause to think about how to word this since the nine-year-old is on the porch with us. “that I become a state.”

“A what?”

“A state.”

“What state would you be, mom?” the boy asks.

“Virginia.”

“Why Virgina, mom?”

“Your dad knows why.”

Mark groans.

• Changing this over to wordpress was  still is a pain
• I could never be a foster mom, because it damn near killed me to watch my future step-daughter pull away to go home.
• That families can really rebuild and reheal and become stronger
• Being sick with a virus when the weather turns nice and you have one more day to spend with FSD and family is here and there’s a dance….sucks.
• Trying to be quiet while violently ill is impossible and I’m still apologizing to M’s sister
• I can still surprise Mark even though I’m not there. ( They stopped to eat on their way back from Ohio and I told my daughter on the phone to make sure she told the waitress it was Mark’s birthday )
• People actually miss me when I don’t post a blog or I change links

Dee has long helped me maintain my website stuff and I asked her centuries ago to change my blog page to my home page so that I could do the majority of things instead of having to ask her–ie I’d use wordpress as my website.

Of course nothing we do ever comes out smoothly.  She also upgraded my version of wordpress that I used and it’s going to take some getting used too on my part, but I think it’s pretty cool. Everyone is going to have to bookmark the site differently. I hope you can find it. The smiley’s will be back as well. Someday. *gg*