Light streaming from an open church door across the snow, a priest in full vestments standing at the door to shake hands with his parishioners as they muffled their faces against the winter cold and headed for their cars, their breath steaming in the frigid air and snow crunching underfoot.
My ninth book is hitting the shelves in December. I was recently nominated for best Silhouette Romantic Suspense for 2010 by Romantic Times magazine for my first romantic suspense, To Catch A Killer, and I've just finished writing my 13th book (which will come out in 2011). My publisher seems to really like my work and in a difficult business, I'm doing a good job of carving a name for myself. I have my first true speaking engagement (I'm being paid!) in February where a group of people will gather to listen to what I have to ...
As I look over the last 50-plus years of my life, I am grateful I was born into the male gender of the human race. I'll gladly accept the daily chore of shaving or grooming facial hair over the responsibility of childbirth, I can take my shirt off at the beach without worry of arrest or gawking, and there are rarely, if ever, lines for the bathroom in public venues. In fact, depending on the setting and crowd, all that may be needed for a guy like me is thick brush, a wooded area, or shaded wall.
Winter arrived the other day, just in case you weren't paying attention. It really seems like we went straight from our 90-degree weather to pouring rain and wind from one day to the next, with no time to prepare.
Like many people, I'm fascinated by the idea of time travel. I'm the furthest thing you can get from a science geek but I get giddy at the theory that time travel is possible because it sets in motion all sorts of cool scenarios in my head, like where I would go and what I would do if it were possible.