MY BABY IS COMING! -- ANY DAY NOW!!!!!


Yes, yes, it's true! My baby is coming. In fact, she will be dropped off on my doorstep, all bundled up in a box, perhaps as early as Tuesday! What, you say? Someone is dropping your baby off at your doorstep--in a BOX?

Indeed! Isn't that the easiest means of delivery? Ask any mother and she'll say she'd gladly skip labor and have someone bring that baby directly to her! Right, moms?

Trouble is--I HAVE had to endure labor pains--some rather painful, plodding, and slow going ones, others moving along at a rather nice pace. That's the way it is with we writers, especially us "seat-of-the-pantsers", who never quite know from page-to-page what's going to happen next. Unfortunately, sometimes we "pantsers" have to wait days between scenes; thus, the labor.

Well, my draft finally complete, and all those edits nailed down, they sent my "baby" off to the printers some weeks ago. But, alas! I just received news TODAY that "she" has arrived at the warehouse, Hannah Grace, that is, number one in my Daughters of Jacob Kane Series!

Oooh, wheee--I think I shall HAVE to do a "GIVEAWAY"! WHAT DO YOU THINK?

OKAY, HERE'S THE DEAL, IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN A CHANCE TO WIN A SIGNED COPY, JUST MAKE A COMMENT BELOW (click on Comments) AND, WA-LAH! YOU'RE ENTERED. I'LL HOLD THE DRAWING ON NOVEMBER 29!!!!

And now, take a look at my brief synopsis!
BACK-COVER BOOK BLURB: Raised in the resort town of Sandy Shores, Michigan, Hannah Grace, the eldest of Jacob Kane's three daughters, is feisty and strong-willed, yet practical. Between working at her father's general store and courting the town's physician, Ralston VanHuff, Hannah has her life planned out in an orderly, meaningful way. Or so it seems.

But Hannah's world turns upside down when the new sheriff comes to town. Gabriel Devlin is strong, outspoken and a Christian, to boot--but he's sworn off women, having met ones mostly interested in money and apathetic toward God.

Determined to ignore the newcomer's handsome looks, Hannah is drawn to him nonetheless by a runaway orphan boy named Jesse. While Hannah works to befriend the shy vagabond, who's living with Gabriel until other arrangements can be made, God works in her heart.

What plans does HE have in store for this young woman who thought she had it all together?

COME AND MEET MY NEW ASSISTANT!


I am a novelist, a creator, an actress of sorts, a romantic, and a generally goofy person who probably has a touch of undiagnosed ADHD. What I am not is an organizer, a plotter, a planner, a supervisor, or a multi-tasker. Therefore, I have boxes, drawers, and cabinets full of unsorted papers, ancient papers, that is, dating back to high school and college days; old report cards, outdated car insurance tabs, oil change records from autos I no longer possess, medical insurance statements from 1970 (exaggeration), and so on. In case you're wondering, Cecil has his own filing system in his office, and never the twain shall meet. So there's my filing system, which pretty much stinks, and there's Cecil's, which stinks less.

Now, as my writing career takes wing, I find my flawed, foppish filing system falling further into futility, and frankly, I'm full-out frustrated!

So, I was talking to one of my girls about this in the car the other day, telling her I'm at that stage, what with publishing contracts and other important work-related papers floating around in unknown places, business receipts lying under paperweights and stuck in corners, where I need to hire someone to ORGANIZE ME! I said, "I will pay someone $15 per hour (I don't know what the going rate is, but I threw out that figure) to go through all my files -- redistribute, purge, sort, shred, whatever it takes, and get me on the right track. She quickly raised her hand. "Mom! I can do that!"

"You can?" I almost drove off the road. This is the girl who never cleaned her bedroom as a teen, well, rarely. Only when she could no longer make a path to her bed. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I'm good at that stuff."

"You are?" Now that she's married and has a child, I will admit her housekeeping skills have changed dramatically. She hates dust, dirt, and disarray. But she likes money and the chance to make a little extra as the holidays draw near.

So, guess what. I hired her! And she is doing a great job. Well, I cringe every time I hear the shredder, but that's beside the point. "What are you shredding now?" I call from my computer.

"You don't need to know!"

At one point she did come into my office with a stack of papers and ask, "Mom, why are you saving these?" They were my gas and electric bills from the past 20+ years all clipped together. I told her I like to compare costs from year to year. She asked why. I said, "Um, I don't know really. So I can get depressed?" She shook her head at me, and 30 seconds later, I heard the shredder. There went the last 20 years of utility statements! Blink! Gone! But so much of my life was wrapped up in those utility statements. (Just kidding.)

Okay, so this will be a good thing in the end, right? I will have a system that works. Tonight she asked me if I'm going to maintain this "system" once she has it all in place, and I told her I absolutely would, but I had my fingers crossed behind my back when I said it. "Mom." She gave me that narrow-eyed, scolding look. "I'm going to have to keep checking up on you." Wait! Who's the mother here?

Well, for the past few days the paperwork's been scattered across the floor in the guest bedroom downstairs. She has already filled one HUGE garbage bag to the brim with shredded papers. (Dear Lord, what of my life is going to the dump?) And she is working on the next bag! (Help me! I've created a monster.) Anyway, thought you'd like to see a photo of my assistant hard at work, earning her 15 bucks an hour.

Oh, and she has to have this done by next Friday, as I'm having that bridal shower at my house, you remember. Never can tell who might wander downstairs and peek into the guest bedroom. I wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm not organized! teehee