Where did it go?

I've been absent for a while--not sure where the days have gone. Last weekend was the Desert Dreams writers conference. The conference coordinators (Susan and Tina) did an incredible job putting it on and it was much fun. I met a lot of interesting people but I was exhausted when I returned home. AND last Friday Calista did the follow up to our story in progress. Kaia started the story here. Erin added some humor here. Kallie added some suspense here. You'll find Calista's piece of the action here.

I'm having website issues too. I've updated the pictures page but can't get them to show up. GRRR. stay tuned. I will get it fixed soon!

Chocolate and Champagne...

Yesterday I hosted a chocolate and champagne booksigning party. My good friend Judi Barker and her wonderful boyfriend Bob Fuhriman made the day more special than I can describe. Bob is the master chef behind Holbox Bakery and when I say master...well, I am talking the best of the best. He made truffles and cakes and a chocolate fountain and chocolate covered this and chocolate covered that. And the sculpture. Lord, you should have seen, it. In fact, you can see it. Click here for some pictures. Writers--if you're looking for something to make your booksigning the sweetest deal in town, send me an email and I'll put you in touch with Holbox. They are INCREDIBLE!!!!

Friday

The days are flying. Not sure how that happened but there you have it. I've been pretty true to my resolution so far. Working hard, enjoying my family, looking forward to the weekend. I'm hosting a chocolate and champagne party for friends and family this weekend and I'm excited about it. I have a good friend whose wonderful and talented significant other is also a chef who makes fabulous chocolates and cakes. He's making all the sweets for the event. (Also co-owners of Holbox Bakery who does my chocolate baskets.)

Anyway, should be fun.

I woke up early to do some writing, but my husband is pounding on the office window wanting me to go outside and enjoy the early morning with him. Sigh, what's a conflicted writer to do?

Resolutions

So I'm coming up on another milestone (the dreaded birthday) and much as I wish I could just pretend it wasn't so the day will no doubt come, be marked by my family, and go, leaving me a year older, a little more wrinkled and hopefully, somewhat wiser.

I've been incredibly stressed these past few weeks, worrying about the birth of my baby, WHISPERS. Worrying that my readers won't love it, worrying about reviews, just worrying, worrying, worrying about things which, at this point, are no longer in my control. So the reviews have already started to come in, and they've been great. (check them out on www.eringrady.com) and WHISPERS has been solidly anchored in the top 50 to top 100 sales on B&N.com and still I worry. Why is this?

Well, I think I hit a point where that question finally penetrated my fat head and I didn't have an answer. But I do have a solution of sorts: stop. All the other stuff, not in my control. All I can do is write my next book, make it the best book I've ever written (which, just between us, I think IS the best I've ever written.) and enjoy life a little more.

So that's what I intend to do. It's a new year's resolution--the new year being my own--and I vow to bring a little more discipline into my life, which will eliminate much of the chaos. I vow to spend more time with my wonderful husband and beautiful daughters. I will cherish my friends and family and the wonderful life I've been blessed with. And I will write a great book without worrying and stressing over every word.

I'm a lover of country music and I've been singing Carrie Underwood's Jesus take the wheel all morning. I think that's a good note to close this post on. :-)

Story, Inc.

You guys really need to help us put a title to this sucker.

So guess what, it's that time. Friday story hour.

To read the beginning of the story, go to the Friday, March 31st entry on Kaia's blog: http://kaiajames.bravejournal.com/

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The man dragging the trunk gave a shout and jumped nearly three feet, spinning in midair. Leanne stared, open mouthed as he came down facing her. He had on faded blue jeans that had worn clear through to skin in places, a Bowling for Soup T-shirt with 1985 written in bright pink across the chest and an attitude that had nothing to do with the here and now. He needed a hair cut and a shave . . . or maybe not. Fashion didn’t appear to be high on his list.

“You Leanne?” he asked, assessing her with the same critical thoroughness she gave him.

His question confirmed her suspicion. He belonged to her sister. Suzy was forever dragging home this same type of man—big, bold and rotten to the core. She couldn’t get enough of them even when they took her heart, her soul and usually her money. He snapped his fingers at her.

“You Leanne?” he repeated.

Me Tarzan, you Jane. For the love of God.

“Why don’t we start with you,” Leanne said. “Get out.”

His mouth dropped open and his brows came together in surprise. He looked like he was trying to match her words up with their meaning.

“Let me see if I can make that clearer,” she said. “Get out now.”

His mouth snapped shut and he shook his head. “Suze said to meet her here.”

“Well Suze doesn’t live here. I do.”

A dark flush crept up his neck and his jaw clenched. For the first time since she’d seen the trunk disappear into Suzy’s old bedroom, common sense surfaced. It probably wasn’t wise to piss off the scary Neanderthal. She braced herself for irrational rage.

Instead she received an apologetic look from beneath lowered lashes. “I’m sorry,” he said. He had blue-gray eyes, eyes framed with thick dark lashes. They seemed luminescent in the dim lighting.

“Suzy gave me the key, told me she’d be here to meet me. . .”

He really looked sorry, too and somewhat hopeful.

“This used to be our parents house. Now it’s mine. I just never took her key away.”

“Christ,” he said, shoving his hair back from his face. He locked his fingers together on top of his head and exhaled. The action stretched his shirt over his broad chest, pulled the sleeves tight over his biceps and made Leanne suddenly, painfully aware that she was wearing her flannel Christmas pajamas, complete with frolicking reindeer and jolly snowman. She’d been too tired to take off her make up before going to sleep so no doubt it was smeared all over her face. And her hair—she stopped herself. Did she really want to consider what her hair looked like?

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To be continued next Friday on Kallie Owen's blog... http://kallieo.bravejournal.com/ Hopefully you'll have helped us find a title by then....

Tuesday, big day!

Tuesday is the official release date for WHISPERS. I've been counting down like it's the due date for a baby, but can't help it. I really hope readers enjoy it.

Yesterday WHISPERS made the bestseller list at B&N.com!!!! Yes, you heard me right, clocked in at number 70 for all romances sold today.

Also climbed the charts for Amazon romantic suspense and hit number 36.

I know, I know, it's pathetic that I should pay so much attention to the numbers, but I work at Intel in the day time and everything there is about the numbers so I can't really help myself. I've been brainwashed...or brain damaged...or both.

So did you read Kaia's first installment of our story? (http://kaiajames.bravejournal.com/) I'm thinking we need to give it a title. If you didn't read it yet, check it out . My post will go up on Friday morning. And then I shall hand it off to... haven't decided yet. Hey, if you think of a title, post it in comments.