Monday, November 9, 2015

Moving and Shaking

Hello. Hello. I may be sitting at my computer all day and night, but I have a lot moving and shaking right now.

Writing. Writing. Writing.

I've been in my writer's cave for so long. I'm working on the book that won't end. But I think you're really going to enjoy it. It's the last book in the Voodoo series with Stephanie Bond. Do people die? Why, yes they do. Is there love, laughs, and mystery? Why, yes there is! I aim to please. But meanwhile, I hear there's a world out there, and I really should shave my legs. Ah, the life of a glamorous writer!

Lights! Camera! Action!

Speaking of the life of a glamorous writer, please check out my interview on Authors on the Air tonight with Pam Stack. 6pm PST / 9pm EST. I will talking for an hour, and she's taking calls. So, please call and ask me anything.

THIS IS A LIVE BROADCAST - join us by calling 347-633-9609. This LINK is LIVE at 9pm ET. / 6pm PT.

Matchmaker Goodness!

And more good news! Random House has decided to put out the first three books in my Matchmaker series in a decent-priced bundle. Very exciting. If you haven't gotten a chance to read these, I can't recommend them enough. I mean, they're awesome...And I'm being totally objective, of course. So, grab it while it's hot, hot, hot!

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Come Bite Me

Come and Bite Me

Hello and happy October! To celebrate lower temperatures—Finally!—I thought I would put BOUNTY on sale for 99-cents. Bounty was a labor of love for me. The hero Brodie is my dream man. Bounty is a funny, sexy adventure, and I hope you enjoy it. 

Get your copy today:

Here’s a little taste…

“I want to taste you.”
               “You want to what?” He bent his head down and grazed his lips over the side of my neck. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I tried to grasp onto any strings of sanity I could find. His lips were warm and softer than I had imagined, and wherever they touched, a tiny jolt of electricity went through me.
               Oops. This wasn’t a good thing, I reminded myself. He wasn’t a good man, and he wasn’t good for me.
               “This can’t happen,” I moaned.
               “No, of course not. I agree, wholeheartedly. You are trouble. I knew it the first time I saw you.” He moved to the spot just below my ear and made long, liquid strokes with his lips.
               “Me? You’re the trouble. I knew it the first time I saw you. Besides, you drugged me and kidnapped me,” I said. My head flopped to one side, giving him better access to my neck.
               “That was just part of the job.” His tongue followed his lips, licking my earlobe and down my neck. I gasped and rose onto my tiptoes.
                “You threatened me and Tased me,” I reminded him after a while.
               “I didn’t want to Tase you. That was unfortunate.” He put his arms around me and pulled me close.
“You sold me to a Chechen warlord and left me there to rot.” My breasts pushed against his chest. The terry cloth robe was all that stood between us. My nipples grew hard with the friction.
“I was going to slip you out that night. No harm. No foul.”
“Oh, that’s true. I forgot.” At least I hoped it was true. I felt his hardness against my belly. I moaned. The sound seemed to spur him on. He slipped his thigh between my legs, and I leaned against it.
               “You slapped me,” I said. I was on fire. It dried my wet skin from the bath, but it made me wet between my legs. I felt my insides melt. I reached up and parted his robe and caressed his chest.
               “I have to admit,” he said, hoarsely. “I sort of enjoyed the slapping. Later, I’ll let you slap me back.”
               My arms slipped around him and rested on his buttocks. He bucked forward a little and groaned.
               “And you bit me,” I said.
               “No, Princess. There you have it wrong. You bit me. Come and bite me again.”

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Poor Gladie!

The next Matchmaker book (book #4, now titled PLAYING THE FIELD) is coming July 28! I'm working hard to torture Gladie and make you a really fun book. Here's a little sneak peek  of Gladie's troubles. Poor Gladie. Why is life so hard for her? Oh, I know! It's because I make her life so hard. I'm an evil author. :) Enjoy!

She looked at the resume a couple of seconds and then looked back up at me. “Your resume is twenty-three pages long.”
“That’s good, right?”
She riffled through the pages. “There’s over a hundred jobs here in less than two-year period.”
I bit a nail. “That many? Are you sure?”
“I know how to count, Miss Burger.”
“You could say that I have a lot skills and talents.” Or that I got fired a lot.
She squinted and pointed her pen at me. “Aren’t you the woman that Walley’s is suing?”
“No. PETA is suing Walley’s because of me. I can see how you got that confused.”
“The snake, right?”
“Who ever heard of an assistance snake?” I laughed, but she wasn’t laughing with me. She was still squinting and shaking the pen at my face.
“And the head, right? You did something with a severed head?”
“I thought it was a lobster,” I squeaked.
“Holy crap! You’re the woman who drove through Ruth Fletcher’s tea shop!”
“It wasn’t me! I wasn’t driving!”
“I know exactly who you are, now. You’re Zelda’s granddaughter. You find the dead people.”
“Well…” I started. “If you want to get technical.”
She handed my resume back to me. “Sorry. I can’t find you a job. My liability insurance won’t cover you. You’re a disaster.”
She stood and put her hand out. I stood and shook it. “Disaster is a little harsh,” I said. “I’m very good with data entry. And I got very few complaints as a seating hostess at Denny’s. Four or five, tops.”
She pushed me toward the door. “You should probably leave before you burn down my office.”
“I resent that. I’ve never burned down an employment office.” She pushed me harder and opened the door for me, waving me outside. “I’m not bad with food. I could be some kind of taster.”
She leaned in and got in my face. “Listen young lady, nobody will ever hire you in this town. Do you understand me? One whiff of your trouble-making, and they’ll head for the hills. You’re the jinx of minimum wage jobs. You get me?”
“I’m happy to work for more than minimum wage,” I offered. But it was too late. She closed the door on me and locked it to make sure my bad luck self couldn’t infect her employment files.

What was I going to do? I had worked every job in America. I had run into a brick wall. And not just the one I ran into when I was a chauffeur in Los Angeles for three days. This was an employment brick wall. I was persona non grata for anything with a paycheck. I was doomed.

Monday, May 4, 2015

Mad Women

I loved last night's Mad Men episode with Joan and her troubles at her new job--sexual harassment, regular harassment, and them not valuing her at all because she's a woman. I related so much. When I first started out in television reporting, my boss thought I should only report on "women's issues." So, interviewing heads of state? No. Interviewing opera singers? Yes. That eventually changed, but it took a while. How about you? Have you been treated badly at work because you're a woman?

Saturday, April 18, 2015

My Life As A Writer

Just wanted to let you know that as I write nonstop today, I ate leftover meatloaf for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I wonder if Nora Roberts eats meatloaf when she's writing...

Friday, April 17, 2015

Voodoo! (Don't be scared) Sneak Peek

You might be aware that I'm writing a book with Stephanie Bond. Oh! Let me write that again...I'm writing a book with Stephanie Bond. I love to say that because I'm a huge fan of hers and so excited to be working with her. She's a fantastic writer and a really nice person (in case you were wondering). Anyway, it's great to be in a mystery, again. Whodunit? I know. In fact, I always know before I start a book. But I'm not going to tell you!

Sneak Peek:

Sheena grabbed Nathaniel by the front of his shirt with both of her hands and pulled him close. “Listen, buttinski, I’ve had a really bad week. I’m this close to cracking up. Do you hear me? I need to disappear this body and clean up my place so I can get on with my life. I have no intention of going to jail, going out of business, losing the movie contract, losing my house, and, and, and, and! Do you get it? Are we on the same page?”
“You’re getting burned corpse flesh on my shirt.”

Sheena dropped her hands and gave him her prettiest smile. “Be a pal, sugar and help a girl out.” 

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

How I Write

Here and there, I'm going to post about my writing process, the writing process, other writers' writing process....You get the picture. A question I'm always asked (and I always ask other writers) is how do I write and how long does it take me to write a book. After writing so many books, I can honestly say that I have no set process and each book takes a different amount of time to write. I call it CHAOS. But here are some quick things that I've found to be true:

1. The more I sit with a story in my head before I write the book, the easier it is to write the story.
2. Writing a story that I'm dying to tell is a lot easier and more fun than writing a story that I'm lukewarm on but figure I'll get into while I write.
3. The more I outline a book before I write, the easier it is to write.
4. My characters do what they want, often surprise me and go off the outline regularly.
5. It always takes longer to write a book than I figure it will.
6. Writing a book is a lot harder than reading a book.

So, this past week, as I'm two weeks past my deadline and lost in my book--not remembering which character said what and where I put my clues and red herrings--I decided to learn how to use Scrivener. Scrivener is a writing program that helps organize everything. Organization is the key to success! I watched 8 videos on how to use Scrivener. I almost broke all of my dishes and threw my computer through the window, but I held back (because I didn't want to clean it up) and managed to learn how to use it! Yay! I can't begin to tell you how much of a miracle it is for me to learn how to use Scrivener. But I've organized the mystery book I'm working on, and it looks great! The next book will be written entirely in Scrivener. I'll let you know how that goes. Do you attack projects the same way you always have, or is your work strategy evolving?

Monday, April 13, 2015


Happy birthday to me! Thank you, everyone who wished me a happy birthday. All the good wishes made my birthday very happy. I spent the day with my youngest son and had a great time. Where did we go?

Friday, April 3, 2015

Bring On The Poison Meatballs!

So, it's Passover, again, and that means sweet and sour meatballs for my family. I don't know why--It's probably in the bible, somewhere. I can hear Moses now: "Enough of this manna! I want meatballs!" Anyway, I call them the poison meatballs. Seriously, I can't tell you what's in them because it's a violation of everything healthy. It's...BAD. But so good! So, even though Passover will not be at my house this year, I'm bringing the meatballs to the occasion. Five pounds of them. I need to give credit where credit's due: The meatballs were my great aunt Tilly's recipe. Tilly was such a sweet woman and a good cook. She also made killer coleslaw. And she was an artist. We used to have an "Original Tilly" painting somewhere, but it got lost. Anyway, my mother took over the meatballs, and so everyone in my family now thinks of them as my mother's balls. I mean, meatballs. Since, she's not with us, it's up to me. Will I succeed? Will I fail? I don't know...but we should probably have 911 on speed dial.

5lbs of meatballs:

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Sneak Peek...Field of Screams

“So, first thing Monday morning, I’m initiating the first of several new initiatives. As of Monday, the ‘Fresh Air for Cannes’ law goes into effect. Simply said, it will no longer be legal to break wind in the town’s limits. Shall we eat?”
The mayor sat down and flicked his napkin over his lap.
“Did he say what I think he said?” Bird asked.
“Breaking wind means farts, right?” Fred asked.
“Legend. Epic legend,” said Remington.
There was a lull. No one said a word, and I imagined they were all concentrating on not farting. I jumped when Grandma cleared her throat.
“I think we could start, Mayor, by going around the table and whoever wants to, can say what they are thankful for,” she said. “I’ll start, I’m thankful that there’s love in the world, that people find their soulmates and have a lifetime of love.”
Holden squeezed my hand, and I swallowed.
The declarations of gratitude went around the table until it got to Remington. “I’m thankful for it all,” he said and smiled. I held my breath, but he was true to his word. He didn’t look my way and never let on that he and I had gone for a tumble in his sheets every day for the past two weeks.
Plus one.
Ruth’s niece, Julie was just about to say what she was grateful for – – probably for having all of her fingers and toes, despite her accident with a food processor last week– – when there was a loud stomping down the stairs. I closed my eyes, knowing full well who was making the noise and dreading what came next.
I wished for a time machine or a teleportation device, or just to be invisible or to not exist. But none of my wishes came true. No matter how hard I wished, my mother was there, her hair a rat’s nest on her head, her lipstick smeared past her lips and over her cheek, and her clothes were wrinkled, like she had slept in them, and of course she had. She was in that sweet spot before she had finished sleeping off her drunk, right before her hangover started and she had to contend with being sober. She was meanest during her sweet spots.
“What the hell?” she screeched. “You started without me? I live here, you know. What am I thankful for? It sure isn’t my daughter or my mother-in-law.”

I closed my eyes and prayed that someone would fart.

Monday, March 30, 2015

Proud Mama

My youngest son's school had a competition for best original plays. They narrowed it down to four plays and produced them. Then, professionals in the business came to judge, and....(insert drumroll here) son won best actor out of all of them! Yay! He played a mentally handicapped man in the Vietnam War.

My youngest son (on right) playing a Lenny-esqe character:

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Sleeping Beauty Did It This Way

I was walking my dog and met these fabulous ladies doing fabulous spinning. No, not on stationary bikes...with spinning wheels! They invited me to join them. I've always wanted to own a gigantic loom and weave rugs. But I have no artistic talent. Anyway, I didn't try out the spinning, because it didn't work out well for Sleeping Beauty (and I base all my decisions on Disney movies), but it was so cool!

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

A Writer's Best Friend

I think Dolly, our family dog, has become my dog. She follows me everywhere. I feel sort of guilty about it.

Here she is under my desk.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

I thought I was going to see La Traviata, But Then a Man Came Out In His Underpants.

My youngest son loves wrestling. I don't know why. He bought two tickets (with his own money) to see "Monday Night Raw" in Los Angeles and insisted that I go with him. I don't know why. You would think he would want to go with someone who liked wrestling. I know what you're thinking...mostly naked men with bulging muscles and 2% body fat, rolling around with each other can't be all that bad. Well...I can say that it was a joy to see my son so happy. We arrived four hours early to stand behind the arena to see the wrestlers come in.

Here's one. His name is Cena:

Then, we were in the arena for six hours (that's a lot of wrestling...I now know a lot about it. If you don't believe me, I'll F5 your ass, clothesline your fool self, and you can believe that, brother. Here are some men in underpants!

The Staples Center has a lot of rules. I don't understand the NO BROOMS rule, though. Why do people bring brooms to the Staples Center? Am I out of the loop, as far as brooms are concerned?

Monday, March 23, 2015

Saturday, March 21, 2015

I Am The World's Worst Mother

Today I had the joy of spending the morning with my oldest son, because I had to take my car to be serviced. He's 17 years old and about to graduate from high school. He's such a good person, and I'm so proud of him. But I'm not sure how proud of me he is.

Does your teenager do this? Did you do this to your mother when you were a teenager?...

When he drove me, if I said nothing: he would criticize me. If I mentioned his driving, he criticized me. At the grocery store, he said I wasn't polite enough. At the car wash, he said I was TOO polite. Basically, I don't know how to behave in society, according to my beautiful first born child.

Beyond that, he informed me that I yell at him all the time. I told him I didn't want him to go off to college with the memory of a mother who yelled at him for his whole life, so from now on I will never yell at him. I told him that if I wanted to yell, I would simply make a hand gesture (my hand out like a traffic cop), and then he would know that I was upset. He criticized this, and then tried for hours to get me to yell at him. First, when we went to the grocery store, I asked him to drop me off in the front of the store. He stopped and went and stopped and went, so I couldn't get out of the car. I put my hand out like a traffic cop and said: "Please let me out." He refused and drove to the far side of the parking lot and parked in the most distant parking spot. "Thank you," I told him and stuck my hand out in his face, as he turned off the car.

It went on like that for the morning. Loud rap music with the bass up to heart-attack levels. Singing old Queen songs loudly in my ear. My hand flew up in the air so many times, I looked like I was attending a Nazi meeting.

But I did it. I didn't yell.

Was he impressed? Was he proud? Nope. He told me how his friend's mother cooks better than I do.

*raises hand up*

Monday, March 16, 2015

You Can't Touch This...

How do I write? Every which way. Today I have the music blaring. Only happy music. And what's the happiest music?

Saturday, March 14, 2015

And The Winners Are....

I'm so sorry for being AWOL. I've been sick in bed with the computer out of reach. It was like living in the Dark Ages! All I was missing was a burlap dress and a case of the plague. Oh, wait...I think I actually had a case of the plague. Anyway, here I am! Finally, able to announce the winners of the Wish Upon a Stud signed tote bags. Winners, your bags will be in the mail this week. Congratulations!

Kimberley Porter
Kim Munoz
Anima-Christi Giraldez
Katy O'Leary Seegers
Lauren Raxter Reid

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Look What Came In The Mail! ...And a Giveaway

Hey, look what just arrived in the mail! The perfect way to carry my books (and my books on your Kindle!). How about I give away a few? Would you like one signed? By the way, did you know that the series is available now in a boxed set at HALF THE PRICE of the books? Leave you name in the comments on my Facebook page, and I'll randomly pick FIVE people to send a signed tote to today. (I can only do the United States for this giveaway)

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Walking to Nowhere

So...I've written while in every position and every location. Did you know that? I wrote Matchpoint (the second Matchmaker book) while lying in bed, recovering from surgery with the laptop propped on a pillow next to me, and I typed with one finger. I've written in Starbucks, like a million other writers, and even at my desk! But now I have a treadmill desk, which is pretty good, a scary, I-don't-want-to-exercise kind of way. If I write standing up, I don't get pain in my shoulders and neck. Have you tried using a treadmill desk? They say that sitting is deadly, which is counter-intuitive, right?

The treadmill desk...either the best invention ever or the worst invention ever. Can you see all of my inspiring notes on the wall? There's a list of "gags" there for books...

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Dolly's Diet

I don't know how to break it to Dolly, but she's fat...and she has to go on a diet. Since she regularly breaks into the trash to find food, I don't think she'll take the news of her impending diet well.

Friday, March 6, 2015

Leave a Light On For Me

"Where do you come up with your ideas?" I get that question a lot, and I usually reply that the ideas are easy but it's the writing that's hard. And it's true. Writing is really's like running a marathon uphill in the dark in a war zone. Well, maybe it's not that hard. But it's hard! But my mind is overflowing with ideas. Luckily, instead of being locked away as a mental patient, I write books, instead and the let the ideas out of my crowded mind. Where do these ideas come from? Anywhere and everywhere. I'm a big people-watcher, even if I spend most of my time alone at my computer. But just about everything sparks an idea for a story. The latest that's got me going are the lights on that distant dwarf planet, Ceres. Have you heard about it? There are two mysterious lights on, and no one knows why. In my house, it's always my teenage sons who leave the lights on, but I'm not sure there are any teenage boys on Ceres. Or are there???? Ah, another story!

Thursday, March 5, 2015

My Virgin Blog and The Gilmore Girls

Hello! I'm finally here, with a daily blog. Today is my first. I probably should write something serious about plot structure or character arcs to mark this milestone, but instead, I thought I'd give you my two cents on The Gilmore Girls. A lot of writers listen to music when they write. There's nothing better to get in the mood of a really sad scene than some really sad music or an action scene with some action music. Well, you get the picture. But it's hard to write comedy while listening to music. There's a certain rhythm to comedy that you can't find in music. So, ironically when I write comedy, I have to sit in sad silence... unless I have Gilmore Girls in the background. The rhythm of the dialogue is perfect for comedy writing. I've heard that the writer of the Gilmore Girls had Buffy The Vampire Slayer episodes on a loop in the background when she wrote.