Showing posts from March 15, 2009

Pride vs. Prizes or Why I'm too Logical to Compete Properly

His Secret Past, my May 2008 Superromance, has been invited to the Big Dance. It’s one of the 64 lucky books chosen to compete in the Smart Bitches/Dear Author March Madness Tournament (DABWAHA—Dear Author Bitchery Writing Award for Hellagood Authors).


The author in me is delighted. What an honor.

I must immediately go to the contest site, fill in my bracket, and crown my book the ultimate champion, right? Because it’s all about pride and I am proud of my book. (Look, I devoted an entire page of my website to it!)

So yeah, I’m proud.

The trouble is, on the tournament page there are prizes. Really good prizes like a Sony Reader and fantastic gift certificates and more. You win those prizes by guessing correctly about which book will ultimately win the tournament. Of the more than 400 people (as of this writing) who have so far filled out a bracket, not one has picked His Secret Past to win.

(Umm…Mom? Hellooo? Too busy for the internet today?)

So that’s my dilemma. If I pick my book, I…

Excerpt: The Boyfriend's Back

Thought I'd post an excerpt from my upcoming book, The Boyfriend's Back. It's available from Harlequin Superromance in May 2009.

Here we go:

Church, bar, church, bar. Statlerville was exactly the same as the last time JT had been here. But he was lost. How did a person get lost in their own hometown?

Move away and stay away for fifteen years. That’s how he’d done it, anyway.

Now he was late which was just perfect. He was only coming because his brother, Charlie, said he couldn’t do this without him and now he wasn’t going to make it in time. He glared at the empty expanse of dashboard. Of course his rental didn’t have a GPS—why use technology when you can keep right on making the same stupid mistakes forever?

He should never have agreed to this. But Charlie had asked him. JT rolled down his window and took a good look at the streets of Statlerville. Something would ring a bell—show him the way.

There. St. Pete’s, his high school. His mom’s funeral was being held at the Statlervi…