Bad Boys Give Headaches ;-)

Sorry, instead of a bad boy, a bad headache waylaid me today. So you'll just have to make do with some bad boy eye-candy for a post.

It's a hardship, I know.

We'll resume our romance hero discussion tomorrow...I hope.


The bad boy always teases well in bed.

The bad boy has a come-hither smile, esp. when he's wearing nothing but a jockstrap.

The bad boy always swims nekkid.

The bad boy always wants to play ball with you.

The ULTIMATE bad boy.

The bad boys know you're looking.

The bad boy will tie you up in knots.

The bad boy is always without a shirt.

The bad boy will take you for a ride.

The bad boy will make you look twice.

Ok, can I go rest my eyes now?

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Bad Boy Anti-Heroes in Books

Thank you for the prime examples of movie bad boys. Visual aid is so fun, isn't it? The names you came up with brought up immediate images. For example, Mickey Roarke in 9 1/2 Weeks--the scene where they were all over each other in the clocktower. I was surprised no one brought up James Dean, although his roles never did a thing for me. But he was viewed as the consummate bad boy in Rebel Without A Cause. I just saw him as an overangsty teenager in need of a week of roofing ;-).

Anyway, today, I thought we would think of books. Which was your first book when you were aware that the hero was just SO BAD? You know, he was so bad he made you squirm at what he was doing to the heroine and you want to smack her for her weakness (and yet you're weak yourself). There's always some kind of deep-seated anger in the bad boy that makes him vulnerable to our (if not to those around him) eyes.

Who won you to the dark side?

Monique mentioned Heathcliffe from Wuthering Heights. Classic bad boy out for revenge. I remember reading this book out loud in my first literature class and really, really digging this horrible, angry man. Everyone in class was horrified at his actions, especially what he did to the young couple, but me, I was enthralled. Heathcliffe's only weakness was his obsessive love for Cathy but in my head, I was already adding my take of the times he came to visit her after she was married. Of course, he was making love to her over and over to show her what she was missing, married to that sissy ;-). But this being "literature," of course the theme was all about bad boys being bad and so loving them would destroy one's life. Bah.

Wuthering Heights remains one of my favorite all-time rereads. Of course, it's hard to get Lord Lawrence Olivier playing Heathcliffe out of my mind when I'm reading it.

In romance books, I think the first hint of bad boy getting into my taste buds was Nora Robert's Michael Fury in Finding The Dream (#3 in the Dream Trilogy). Then I started glomming all of Anne Stuart's Harlequin Americans. Oh My God. Bad Boy Dietrama! She, to this day, is the queen of Bad Boy Anti-hero to me. Through the years, she has even written romances with bad boys who cheated on their heroines and still managed to win me over. Her single title, Ritual Sins, convinced me that I'm addicted to bad boys ;-).

Today you get a few bad boy vampires roaming around in our favorite paranormals. Not to mention Karen Marie Moning's Adam Black, the bad fey--so Hawt.

Which Bad Boy in a book turned you to the dark side?

You don't think I would forget about JOSH, do you? ;-P

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My First Uber Bad Boy Anti-hero

Yesterday, we were looking at our first Angsty Sexay Vampire. Most of you cited Angel, of course. Bookwise, yes, Anne Rice's Lestat seduced me but he didn't melt me. He fascinated me enough till his story in Servant of The Bones that bored me to my bones. That was my last book by Rice, I think.

In romance, J R Ward's hip hop vampires are fun to read but also does nothing to me emotionally. I mean, I don't run around going, he's MINEMINEMINE, like I did to Laurell K. Hamilton's Jean Claude before he was defanged and eunuch-tized by Anita Blake. Sigh.

Mikhail and Jacques from Dark Prince and Dark Desire (Christine Feehan) actually began my romance with book vampires. By that I mean, I "got" the angstiness. I "got" the loneliness. I "got" the curse. And I empathize for them as they look for their mates. Today's new hip hop and urban fantasy vampires just don't have that layer of pain, what say you?

But I digress. That's not today's topic. I want to know, who's your FIRST BAD BOY ALPHA MALE?

When I first saw THIS DUDE in my teens, on my little black-and-white TV, my newly making-their-presence-known surging hormones attacked me. He was the first sweaty guy I fell in love with. He was BAD personified. I didn't know what BAD was, but I knew I. Wanted. It. Him. Heh. This movie totally jump-started my female fantasy braincells.



I was watching this movie again on my old 36 inch floor model in my very unposh apartment. My then newly-acquired puppy was determined to get my attention from my Bad Boy Hero. My tongue was hanging out at the scene where he walked around shirtless, and my dog would jump up to try to kiss me. I remember yelling, "No, bad boy!" Then, my eyes would rivet back to the scene of HIM in his pajamas stalking Blanche and my hand would clutch the front of my shirt and my puppy jumped onto my lap and tried to chew the buttons off and I remember yelling, "No, bad boy! I'm watching Brando!"

But my doggie wouldn't stop bothering me and so I grabbed him under his front paws, held him to my face, glared at him, and gave him the law of Brando, "Look! I'm watching the Sexiest Bad Boy on earth seducing poor Blanche and nothing is coming between me and Brando unless it's another Bad Boy!"

And Brando licked my nose.

And that was how my puppy got the name Marlon Brando. Clearly, he was telling me he was the Bad Boy of Bad Puppies ;-).

But back to Marlon Brando in Streetcar Named Desire. His Stanley Kowalski made me "get" it, what the appeal of sweaty bad boys is about. Even when I didn't have any terms for that image. I just knew. He. Made. Me. Sweat.

I, during my teenage years, and now, in my old-hag years, understood what Stella saw in him....



Tomorrow, I'll think of the Bad Boy Hero in books that won me over to the dark side ;-).

Who was your first Bad Boy? And what did he do to your female hormones?

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Uber Vampire

I have been so busy, inundated by life, that I haven't had time to go through my loot and read. What are you guys reading out there? Any great finds?

I was talking to a friend about how historicals are taking more risks these days. Have you noticed? There are still Regency Rakes, but you also get the Victorian Buffy in the Gardella Vampire Chronicles by Colleen Gleason. There's Valdez and Campbell, two authors who wrote "controversial" historicals that got a lot of buzz. Gaelen Foley is doing historicals set in India. I include Shana Abe's dragon-historicals. Elizabeth Hoyt. Pamela Clare's historicals. Anyone else you want to add to this list?

It's good to see that! I'm tired of Regency Balls, almost as tired of new vampire series.

Of course, I'm never sick of the Original Sexy Angsty Sexy Vampire/Slayer evah, a vampire named Angel.



I love that vampire's story so, sigh. And the episode in which he could walk in sunshine again? And found that he hungered for food? And then learned that the price was the loss of his strength, thus his mission? And the sacrifice he decided to make? Best. Episode. Evah. Sniff.

Angel started my love affair with angsty vampires. Of course, David Boreanez definitely helped ;-).

Who was your first vampire?

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Food For Thought

Still resting my eyes suffering from InternetRomancelandia Word Bombardment....

But...

Here's a great article, with an interview with Nora Roberts, of the RWA conference in Dallas:

The Queen Of Romance

That is One Busy Lady, dude. All those books, traveling, interviews, and even a bobblehead of herself to boot. I bow.

I'm still hoping to have Linda Howard being called The Goddess of Romance in a newspaper article one day ;-).

It's been a hard week for me, what with coping with Brando being gone. I come home from work and no old doggy grumbling, you know? I eat my dinner and there's no old dog to clean my plate. I watch baseball and no dog to rest my feet on and cheer with me at the homeruns (Lilah doesn't like baseball). I take a shower and there's no old dog lying on the mat waiting for me. Brando used to follow me all around the house. If someone called me on the phone, I'd usually walk up and down the room while talking, and Brando would do the same, right behind me. Not any more.

Anyway, I didn't mean to reminisce, just wanted to share with you that my other mutants are grieving in the oddest way. After Brando passed on, none of them would eat. I have been TRYING--coaxing, begging, everything--to get them to eat their usual food. They have been ignoring their plates. Treats are a different matter, of course.

Do you know what they finally ate?

Brando's leftover can of diet food, that was special for dogs with kidney problems(low phos), something they all HATED when I fed them before. They would spit it out with a disdainful snarl. But last night, while I was throwing it out, I noticed them all staring at me all googly-eyed. So I sat down and spooned the food out and all four mutants ATE. And ATE. And ate it all up.

I'm totally bemused. Huh. How 'bout that? They wanted Brando's food.

Even the furbabees are grieving their own way. No old guy piddling around while they squabble, I suppose. And definitely, no dirty old man still trying to get him some last whoopie while they were in heat.

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Uber Relax Already

Blogs are getting wayyyy too wordy.

I opt for pictures today, 'kay? Let's rest our eyes. Ahhhhh.

Rested yet? No more talking needed, hmm?

Happy Hump Day? ;-)

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My Momma Said I Could

As most of you know, I have a more than passing interest in astrology. I was looking at transits last night, just to see what's going on in the skies.

I found that Venus has just moved into Virgo and is getting ready to retrograde (appear to go backwards), a rare event. Let's make it simple. Venus rules all things that has to do with the heart, including ROMANCE, ROMANCE WRITERS, THOSE in the ROMANCE industry. Venus likes to expand and generalize (lovely feeling when everyone is buying into the idea of love). However, it's not "happy" going into Virgo because Virgo, by nature, is a nit-picker. Virgo likes to pick apart the whole into details and generally drives Venus crazy with the what-ifs and how-about questions.

Now, not only is Venus going nuts with this Virgoan transit, but people with strong Virgo houses are either busy picking apart ROMANTIC details or are frustrated by being the ones picked on. Not only that, but Venus is going retrograde, so...it's not an easy happy let's-all-just-be-friends feeling. Essentially, everyone wants a say in anything that has to do with the heart, including the Romance industry and what romance writers should wear at a signing.

I know I might sound like I'm reaching to some of you. But hey. I have a strong Virgo house, so of course I'm picking at this my own way ;-).

Quote from astrobarry, a site I enjoy: "When Venus goes retrograde in Virgo, we could fixate on one isolated quality about somebody that we adore or detest (Big Ass Swan Hat, anyone? Thigh stockings?), only to ignore so many other relevant factors that will reemerge as significant later. We may also be unnecessarily critical of the ones we love, outsmarting our own good by nitpicking the beauty away." Ha. Looking at that 634 comment debate, I think he's just hit the jackpot with that observation.

********************

Next time you are criticized for acting "outrageous," can I point you to an age-old excuse? This French ad cracked me up. The kid is SO ME. Heehee.



Didn't you laugh at the evil look on his face in the show-and-tell? ;-)

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Should Every Author See The Big Picture?

Thank you for the words of comfort here and through email. I'm sorry I can't answer every one of them at this time, but please know that I appreciate your reaching out to me. It's strange how you never know how much space your loved one has taken of your heart till he is gone. My heart aches.

But I'm doing okay. So.

Let's see, while I've been preoccupied, what was preoccupying the world(s) I walk in, eh?

For those in the know:

1) Sometimes it's best not to say a word when under fire. I lurv you, Sherrilyn Kenyon.

I'm not doing any links to this particular trainwreck that has been occupying the blogosphere for the last few days, but just google "big ass swan hat" and "costumes at RWA nationals." If you want to waste away an entire day of your life, there is a comment thread that's 634 comments long in a popular blog out there. Over a swan hat and two pairs of stockings on three authors.

Question: Should I worry every time I put on a big ass swan hat that I'm giving ammo to the critics of my genre, bringing back memories of Barbara Cartland and her pink poodles? Check out these old publicity photos of eight very famous authors in 1981:

EIGHT WHO WRITE OF LOVE FOR MONEY

You see what I mean now?

OTOH, today's readers are more "diverse" because the genre has spider-webbed into other genres (there was no urban fantasy in 1981, sweeties, and a heroine sleeping with more than one man/specy would have gotten your books banished from romancedom). What IS the face of romance, barring the stupid intelligentsia who insists on bringing up Fabio with every discussion? So thirty years ago. But. The image persists. It doesn't bother ME, but it bothers a heck of a lot of people, very, very smart people who defend this genre at every opportunity.

I admire them, truly I do. Nobody wants to be looked down upon, especially by their loved ones at home, who mock them of reading "trash." I have no solution to this dilemma, since I have never been in their position. Hey, I'm a roofer. My workers can barely read. And my other friends are supportive and friendly about my writing. They may make fun of the love scenes once in a while, but I've never felt a need to defend myself. I just ask them whether they thought reading the love scenes was hotter than watching McDreamy slipping off Mere-Death's panties on TV.

2) For those who wish to know why Karin Slaughter's wishing herpes on any reader who tell anyone about how her latest book ends:

Quoting specifically from her site: "© Karin Slaughter. Please do not copy, duplicate or otherwise disseminate any of the contents of this letter. If you do, you are a total jackass and I hope you get herpes."

Since her letter starts right after that warning I'm hoping my quoting those lines exclude me from jackassdom and herpes.

YOU CLICK ON THIS LINK, YOU'RE AGREEING TO READ ABOUT ITS CONTENTS THAT MIGHT CAUSE YOU STRESS ABOUT HER NEW BOOK WITH ITS SHOCKING ENDING.

http://karinslaughter.com/spoiler/spoiler.doc

3) Talking about shocking endings, was there really one in the last saga of Harry Potter? Were you really shocked? I mean, at least there's no shocking death of a major character, is there?

Question: Regardless whether it's a romance or not, how do you feel when an author in whom you've invested, oh, ten books of your time and love kills off the beloved characters (say, Harry himself)? Would you feel horrified? Disgusted? To the point of needing to scream at the author? Lest you think what an author does to his/her character shouldn't affect the readership (and sales), let me bring up the example that when Arthur Conan Doyle killed off Sherlock Holmes in 1893 in a story published in Strand magazine, TWENTY THOUSAND upset readers cancelled their subscriptions.

So. What if J.D.Robbs killed off Roarke in Book #44 because it was time to push Eve's growth? Are you hyperventilating yet?

It does happen in romance books. Lately, there seems to be a trend. One I remember that brought about passionate cries from readers is Cameron Dean's vampire series. She killed off the hero in Book Three after two very hot books of hero/heroine growth. There was carnage in the forums, let me tell you. For those who loved this series, did Ash's death bother you?

For myself, I readily admit that I'm a romantic. I have enough pain from the real deaths of loved ones; I don't need to read about my beloved fictional characters' deaths too. Yes, me hypocrite, since I kill people, especially bad guys, in my books ;-). But I'm not going to invest my soul into creating the loving relationship of two people for a few books and then destroy it with a violent death. Why be cruel to myself and my readers?

And oh, I learned a new Web acronym. YMMV (Your mileage may vary).

YMMV, of course.

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My Baby Left Home Today

This is going to be an entirely personal, non-professional, selfish post. I'm doing it because I want to share my memories of my great friend and furbaby, Brando. I'm doing it because it's part of my grieving process. So excuse me if this makes you uncomfortable. Come back tomorrow ;-).

My dog, Marlon Brando, the sexiest dog on earth, died this morning. He was the best dog a roofer girl could ever have, always gentle because mom was always tired, seldom complaining because mom was never home, and fiercely independent because that was how mom was.

Brando came to me when I had $100 to my name, maybe less. At that time, I jokingly told him that I was fattening him up for my last meal since I was hungry all the time. He charmed me by pooping all over the apartment.

Brando took a ride with me when I could afford my first car. He enjoyed a quiet moment with me in my first house. He wasn't amused when I bought him a concubine (Magic) who was three times his size and he couldn't properly reach her where it mattered. He and his wife gave me four crazy mutant kids and my new family moved into a new house.

Brando loved the new backyard, with all that running space. He found much joy chasing after his girls when he was in the mood, or just lying under the shade of the bell tree and watch their antics. He was with me when I started writing, was the first one who heard my love scenes read aloud, and laughed with me because they sounded so stupid to a dog.

He was not an Alpha dog. He peed like a girl while his girls, including his wife, lifted their legs like a guy. He was often bullied and harried by that wife of his, and had to scarf down his treats and food really quickly or had everything stolen. He didn't mind because he always knew mom had more for him, and that even though she mocked him, she always gave him whatever he wanted.

Which was not a lot, really. Because he was, deep down, an independent old soul just like his mom. He would do as he pleased. Please mom get Magic off my bed. Please mom Magic stole my treats. Please mom I'm the oldest don't let the girls chew my toys. Please mom could you get Magic away from my bed, the woman just wouldn't let me alone.

When his wife, Magic, left us last year, Brando did something that made me cry. As I've told you, he was much bullied, especially by his wife, and had to really scarf down his food and treats before Magic got to it. That night, while I was cleaning the room and putting away Magic's things, there were all of Brando's treats I gave him that day. Brando had laid them out in neat little piles. It was, I thought, so sweet and so evil of him. He was, after all, his mom's furbabee; he had a wry sense of humor.

Brando turned eighteen this year. I had eighteen long years with the guy. He'd known me all my grown up years, celebrating with me as we built our lives together.

How do you say goodbye to a good friend? Brando chose not to. This morning, after a sleepless night and with me telling him he could lie down, I took him to the vet for fluids. Brando waited till I said "I love you," as I always do, every day, to my furbabees before I go to work. Waited till he heard me walk out of the room. Waited till I was in my truck. And then, he died naturally. Quickly and without nary a fuss.

Independent little dog, as always.

My boy left home at eighteen. I hope Magic Girl isn't bullying him too much where they're at now. I'm not there to make sure he gets his treats first. Not yet, anyway.

Yo, Magic! Give him a big kiss before you smack him around, 'kay? Cut him some slack. He might have been the gentlest soul around, but he was the only man who dared take on a mutant pom like you.

Mom and the rest of the babies miss you, my BranBran.

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Making Time

I always come home from RWA reenergized creatively, with lots of new ideas. This year, I didn't get to talk to as many booksellers as I'd hoped because of my busy schedule. The impression I did get, though, was that sales at the brick and mortar chains were up for those mid-listers whose books were affected by Walmart's new policy. That's good news and I hope readers will start to go more to bookstores again.

IMO, superstores like Walmart and Target have a business agenda of getting customers to buy into the idea of getting everything all at once in one warehouse, and thus "train" shoppers to think everything else is an inconvenience. We (meaning booksellers and authors) need to get readers back to bookstores, independents or chains, where buying books aren't just chasing after one or two titles, but also includes the pleasure of browsing through racks and racks of paperbacks and hard covers.

I'm guilty of it too because I'm "into" the convenience of Amazon and BN.com. We all lead busy lives and sometimes forget that it's not just buying this meal and this book and this gift, for dinner, for the TBR, for that function. It's also the act of spending family time together, the privacy and inner growth in reading, the cameraderie of friendship and celebration.

I think it's important to remind ourselves sometimes that everything we do is not just to survive the day, that living includes taking the time. So, if you have not been to a bookstore lately, go to one today or this weekend. Take a break and browse. Turn off the black hole called the Internet ;-). For myself, I'll drive to Barnes and Noble, which is out of my way, just to pick up Marjorie Liu's newest and check whether they have my newest, Virtually His, in stock still.

Oh, one more piece of biz news. Send some magic good vibes my way because I'm mailing a copy of Big Bad Wolf to my editor for her to read and consider as an e-download. I need all the good vibes I can get!

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Uber Lofty Goals For The Next RWA

I woke up in the creaky...

Whew. Getting better....I dreamed of Sherrilyn Kenyon's giant black swan attacking me in bed. Vampire were-swan, argghhhh. I needed feathers. ;-)

I'm still in awe of the black swan hat. Questions that I forgot to ask Sherri when I saw her the other day:

How much did it weigh?

Was it hot under that thing?

What were the comments as she walked from the lobby to the signing?

I'm in awe at how she could smile for three hours while wearing that. I would have been dying after the first half-hour. I would have been looking hot, and not in a good way. I'd have looked so hot the swan would have molted, feathers flying all around. That tail hanging down Sherri's back would have ended up being a swan feather boa on me.

Note to self: Branding must be SIMPLE. I used to just bring in a bunch of Marlena Maxwell "pearls" ;), but everyone wanted to steal all my strands to take home to try THAT SCENE...and tell me about their success. I finally decided it was TMI, LOL.

I still dream of these:

Note to self: NO EATING TWO WEEKS BEFORE RWA next year!

Courtesy of Kathleen Dante:

NOTE TO SELF: Remember to take a photo of MYSELF signing. Sigh. So much for trying to promote myself more ;-). I like this pic because it shows almost all my books. My few copies of Facing Fear and The Hunter were snatched up!

I lub the hugs but...

NOTE TO SELF: Get a photo of me without me GRINNING. Can I have a serious authorly photo next year please? Ya think that's possible?

And now, after a week with my beautiful friends and their great wardrobe, I have to deal with these:

NOTE TO SELF: Never show construction workers photos of romance models. They all start to aspire to be one themselves.

No, sweeties, that's not Ranger Buddy in those poses. ;-)

And oh, hey, when does an uber author know she's morphing back to uber roofer? When the excuse given to her for not having come to work while she's been gone: "My wife's suffering from mineralpause."

Sigh.

Do you think my editor will let me use that excuse for my late manuscript? ;-P

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Snap Back To Reality

I woke up in my creaky five-star Hyatt sofabed...

Yikes, the nightmare again. The experience must have been more psychically injurious than I'd thought!

Life is almost back to normal. The suitcase with the loot showed up, thank heavens, and now I get to pile the books on the dining table in the same spot where I'd cleared barely a month ago ;-). Think I'll be hearing complaints again? ;-)

How do I know life is almost back to normal?

Instead of wonderful writing talk, I get:

"Hey, Boss, what do you call a blind deer?"
I shrugged.
"No idea."
I rolled my eyes.
"What do you call a blind deer with no dick?"
I lifted an eyebrow.
"No fucking idea."
I rolled my eyes.
"What do you call a dead blind deer with no dick?"
"A dead dickless deer?" I ventured a guess.
"Still no fucking idea."

Ahhh...don't think you can find that conversation at the RWA conference, even at the bar ;-).

**********************

Some more RWA thoughts:

Writers and friends are asking about what one actually get from the conference, besides meeting up with friends, editors and agents. They can understand the value in the friendships and the workshops, but what else is there that can be used for the writing career?

For myself, here are a few RWA insights that I'd have gotten from nowhere, straight from the mouths of people who knew the subject or was there when it happened:

1) I had a personal tete-a-tete with Jo Carol Jones from Romantic Times Book Club magazine about the business end of the magazine as well as the duties of being an event coordinator. There was a big hullabaloo this year when an author's poster and promotional items were removed from the Houston Hyatt and many blogs talked about discrimination (the author wrote male on male erotica) and RT's disdain for the genre. It was interesting to get the story from Jo Carol's point-of-view as well as her explanation of how hotels run conventions. For example, although hotels run after conventioneers and want their business, they also keep files of all the different groups that have annual conventions. Most files have one or two pages. RT's file, she said, has thirty pages.

I came away not just with more information about a convention that I attend annually, but also with a healthy respect for the volunteers (Jo Carol volunteered for many years before becoming event coordinator) in general, and what they do for love (and this applies to the RWA volunteers too). Also, it was fun sitting there for an hour comparing RWA and RT (same authors but different feeling) and how each conference can (or not!) help the author. I had a good laugh at the shenanigans for which RT is well known.

2) You get to hear what each publishing house is interested in buying at their spotlights. Reading their websites isn't the same. At each spotlight, there are editors who will clue the author about which sub-genre she likes to read. Your job is to write their names down and make notes.

3) I asked a few very well-known authors for advice. You CAN'T buy this for a million bucks. These girls know the business inside and out and sometimes prefer not to talk business through email. If they know you're just needing the information for your career and not for gossip, they will help you in any way they can. No other group of women in the writing industry are this generous.

4) I think I understand about "branding" now, although I could be wrong.

JR Ward and her sunglasses
Sherrilyn Kenyon and her goth/black swan hat
La Nora and her classy sophistication
Linda Howard and her "no website"ness
Susan Elizabeth Philips and her humor
Anne Stuart and her nun habit (Sister Krissie)
Marjorie Liu and her so beautiful TALLNESS (and sweet, so sweet)
Jacquie D'Alessandro and her impeccable fashion and original handbags

GENNITA LOW AND HER ATLANTA AIRPORT KARMA -- Wahhhhhhhh

;-)

More tomorrow. Got to go yell at some guys now. In roofer's lingo.

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Post Conference Thoughts of Uber Moments

I woke up in my creaky five-star Hyatt sofa bed...

Whew! A nightmare.

I had Da Best Sleep in my very own bed with no lumps, no strange creaks, no weird tilt. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. My back is not throbbing this morning.

I'm sitting in my own mess with my cup of coffee, in my teeshirt and sleep pants, hair all mussed up, with no thought of make up and high heels, and getting into my roofer growl mood so that I can yell at the boys on the roof (I know they have been slacking without me....). Back to the usual. Back to writing and wroofing.

For today, lots of quick reminiscing:

BEST PERSONAL MOMENT: getting to personally talk to my editor about my situation and the book delay. Things are still up in the air but she was very positive about the electronic download offer of Big Bad Wolf at eharlequin. It would be a great way to tide readers over till Virtually Hers.

MOST AWESOME SQUEE: I couldn't go to J.R. Ward's signing and sent my girls, Su and Leiha (The Asian Persuasion), to get an autographed book for me and J.R. Ward knew me and said nice things about me to Su and Leiha...how awesome is that?!

MOST MEMORABLE MOMENT: I almost tripped Nora Roberts at the bottom of the escalators one morning while rushing to meet with my editor. Ya, that would have been a disaster if I were responsible for splatting La Nora in the hotel lobby. Fortunately for me, I didn't.

GRRR MOMENT: BOOK SELLERS BEHAVING BADLY. Watching a small group of local book sellers committing daylight robbery. They ran into each free publishers signing and just grabbed a bunch of books off EVERY table, ran out, dumped them into HUMONGOUS boxes, then ran back in over and over till the boxes were full. Every. Signing. That's a few hundred authors times three or four books, so these women made off with at least a thousand dollars worth of books. They didn't stand in line to talk to the authors or get an autograph or two. I know they were book sellers because of their tags.

These women were just there to get free books to sell at their stores/websites. So not cool. Publishers provided these free books (about 100 an author) as a way to promote the books to conference attendees, and so attendees could get a chance to talk to their favorite authors as well as meet new ones.

Most book sellers are great people, don't get me wrong, and it's a pleasure to be able to thank them personally for getting our books in their stores and being so enthusiastic about our genre. These were just a few bad apples that made me shake my head when I saw them repeating their brazen act several times in one day.

MOST FUN MOMENT: Playing pool with Samantha James (CJ Barry). That was a total blast. That woman's a pool shark, dudes.

SWEETEST THING TO WATCH: Pamela Clare dancing with her mother at the Harlequin party.

MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: Asking Gayle Wilson whether her name was spelled with two "r"s. I still have NO IDEA why I asked her that, since I knew she was Gayle. I blame it on starting the day without coffee. That must be it.

BOAST BOAST BOAST: I danced with Nora Roberts. Wheeeeeee. I did the hokey-pokey on the dance floor with La Nora, who totally owned it, by the way. It was fun boogeying with her.

SUPER YAY MOMENT: When Julia Quinn went to get her RITA, her first after finaling several times. She was so happy and brought a smile on everyone's faces. She GLOWED. Congrats again, Julia!

YIKES EXPERIENCE: For the authors whose books for the Literacy Signing had been mistakenly put in the GOODY ROOM. They had no books to sign at all, something that every author love to do at a conference. The books were snatched up like hotcakes, I'm sure, but still, it couldn't have been too fun to sit at a table for several hours with nothing to sign. A few authors affected: Marjorie Liu and Liz Maverick, which was disappointing because I'd wanted to pick up their new books at the conference.

A FEW MOMENTS OF SILENCE: For authors who had recently passed away--Kathleen E. Woodiwiss and Ronda Thompson. The world of romance has lost some bright stars these past two weeks.

CRAZY AWESOME YAY SQUEEE MOMENT: When I bumped into Nora Roberts AGAIN at the bottom of the SAME escalator and she waved and CAME TO ME and said, "I had such a great time! Wasn't that a great time on the dance floor last night?" Squeeeeeeee. Squeeeeeee. It's my fangrrr moment, 'kay?

MOST INDECISIVE MOMENTS: Hmmm...grassy knoll...nap...grassy knoll...air-conditioned room...grassy knoll...catch up with email...grassy knoll...air-conditioned bar...grassy knoll...nap... I never did make it to the grassy knoll.

MOST DECISIVE MOMENT: Walking past a store on the way to the Harlequin Party and seeing this BLUE dress and buying it for the gala. Now, that was quick shopping! ;-)

NICEST SHOCK: When a woman introduced herself as Allison Brennan's mom at my signing told me that Allison sent her to pick up THE PROTECTOR to read. Wow. WOW! Of course, now I'm sweating bullets about whether she'd like the book.

OVERHEARD NAUGHTINESS: A bunch of authors went to MEDIEVAL TIMES and had a rocking wild time. I bet! ;-)

That's all I could come up with this morning before going back on the roof. I'm so glad I have good news about a possible e-book for you guys to make up for the delay!

More later.

P/S The flight home was not delayed. However, one of my suitcases (the one with mostly books) didn't make it. Hopefully it's just sitting in Atlanta somewhere and I'll get it back today or tomorrow.

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My Atlanta Stop

I'm in Atlanta airport, layover, blah-blah. Cross your fingers for me for NO DELAYS.

Wanted to thank everyone for dropping by my blog the last few days for conference updates. I hope to post more about my reflections and conversations in the next few days.

Thank you for all the great feedback from readers and friends who took time to visit me during signings as well as stop me in the lobby and other hotel areas. The Lurv was amazing. Exactly what I needed for my soul. It's everything RWA is.

More thoughts later.

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Last Day And Last Night at RWA

Edited to add:
COMPLETE LIST OF RITA WINNERS

One more night on my creaky five star Hyatt sofabed, yayyyyy!

I have to pack for a 5am wake-up call, wahhhhh!

So, this will be another run-by post. I'll gather my thoughts about the conference and the lovely people I met in the coming days, when I'm more relaxed, after a full night's rest in MY OWN UNLUMPY BED, and between the lovin' kisses of my missed ones at home.

I had a generally free afternoon, so I went to score some books for myself!



Madeline Hunter, one of my favorite historical writers. I GOT THE NEXT BOOK, nyah nyah, nyah.


Linnea Sinclair, who thought I was there just to take a pic. Hah. I wanted a book, dammit!

Keri Arthur, whom I recently glommed.

Jaci Burton, who ran out of books by the time I got to her.

Tara Janzen, from whom I scooped an ARC of her next book, lalalalala.

My final loot.

The RWA grand gala, the Golden Heart and RITA awards, was short and sweet.

Here is your uber-roofer sucking in her tummy and posing:

The really love Lisa Kleypas

And I finally found the Smart Bitches, Candy and Sarah! They talk exactly the way they write on their blog. Lovely, wonderful chatty ladies and it was fun to say "hi" to a fellow Malaysian. I even managed to impress them by showing them my roofing bicep, ha. Candy lost Sarah's camera in the restroom, so if you found a camera in the lobby's restroom, it's the BITCHES'!

That's all for now. I really need to pack. I have to wake up in four hours. Ughhh.

See you back home, my darlings!

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RWA Day Three: OW OW OW

Climbling into my five star creaky Hyatt sofabed. Feet hurt. Early appointment with my editor tomorrow. So I'm posting these pictures first, more 'splaining tomorrow sometime, 'kay? But you'll see why MY FEET HURT.


Lining up for free books after I did my signing!

Learning how to ski from Pamela Clare in the bar....

Playing a game of pool with...

POOL SHARK Samantha Graves. She hustled me!

Heading off to the Harlequin Party--a MUST GO event.

Great Food....

Great Dee Jays

Romance Authors Gone Wild....

Here's J.R. Ward and her sunglasses....

Got a hug from the fabulously beautiful Jane from Dear Author....



Jacquie D' is always beautiful too...


This shy looking woman is the evil Emma Holly, with her smart dancing shoes....

This is Kimani line author, Jordan Wayne, surrounded by authors gone wild....

I actually danced with Nora Roberts and her friends for a two songs!!!!!!!

Fun with the talented Nalini Singh....

Good times with one of my favorite dancing partners, the gorgeous Jamie Sobrato...


and me doing A LOT of this:

Now, back in the Parlor Room: OW OW OW

I wonder why my feet hurt?

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