Leslie Langtry, Trophy Author

My one and only trophy, 1992 Women's Winter League, 2nd Place

Our mantle is bursting with trophies. Oh, not mine. My kids have trophies, medals, etc. My husband even has a bunch in the basement - and that was back in the day before everyone got a trophy. But I only have one. This one.

It's fun when my son's friends come over and scream, "COOL GUN TROPHY (11yr old boys always speak in all caps)! Is that your dad's?" I get a special thrill when Jack shakes his head and says, "No, it's Mom's." You should see their faces. It really is precious.

I used to shoot handguns competitively. I lost out on first place to a female cop - and I don't feel too bad about that. The leader of our group was an elderly woman who was retired Secret Service - which was very cool.

Yesterday, I found out I won Blogger of the Year at The Book Boost. That is very cool. This gun trophy is lonely. It needs a friend. While I wait, I trolled the internet looking for the coolest trophies ever.

We have to begin with the classic, cartoon bomb trophy. This would be a good trophy for the Bombay Family - Best Use Of An Explosive Device In An Assassination. I'd like to think Gin has a shelf full of them in her secret Death Lab.

This trophy just screams AWESOMENESS. I don't know what it's for, and apparently it's a composite of mixed, mythical metaphors - which means AWESOMENESS. I'd like to see this trophy used for something unexpected - like BEST RHUBARB PIE or CUTEST KNITTED UNDERWEAR.

I guess this award would go to the guy who takes bites out of donuts in the break room, then puts them back when he discovers they are filled with a purple, viscous fluid. And if you work in an office with a break room, you know this guy. And yeah, he'd deserve a mouthful of purple viscous fluid.

This is my favorite. This trophy says, BEST SUPERHERO DISGUISED AS A WEREWOLF. What wouldn't you use this trophy for, right?

Now THIS one is my favorite. This trophy says, "I shot it, and I killed and I mounted it, but I have no f%#*!ing idea what it is." Now isn't that what winning is really all about?

The Assassin

Valentine's Day Contest Winners!

The first place winner of my Valentine’s Day Contest is Corrie! You have your choice of a Kindle Touch or a $99 Amazon gift card. Please contact me christie(at)christie(-)craig.com with your preference and mailing address. Congratulations!

But wait! You may be a second place winner so keep reading!

Congratulations to the five second place winners: Kristi, Brandie, Nooreensbooks, Anneliese, and Bodaisy. They all have a choice of an e-copy of Born at Midnight, the first book in my young adult paranormal Shadow Falls series or a cool Shadow Falls t-shirt. Email me at christie(at)christie(-)craig.com with your preference and mailing address. You must live in the US or Canada.

Contest! Contest! Happy Valentine's Day!

Well, I am, but I’m also talking about picking a winner for my Valentine’s Day contest. That’s right. Celebrating the release of Murder, Mayhem and Mama at Amazon, I’m giving away a Kindle Touch or a $99 Amazon gift card. I will post the winner at the top of this blog tomorrow. So make sure you come back to see if you won. I’m also giving away this really cool Shadow Fall's t-shirt!

The rules are simple. You tweet or Facebook about the release of Murder, Mayhem and Mama at Amazon; Twitter users must include the hashtag #Christie-Craig@Amazon, and then leave a comment on this blog telling me you Facebooked or tweeted about MM&M’s Kindle release, and then answer one of my five questions about romance. (The questions are below.) By the way, I answered all those questions myself. And I’m still blushing about some of my answer, too.)

1. What draws a woman to a man?

As a woman and as a romance writer I’ve given this a lot of thought. What contributes to that indefinable lure that draws one person to another? I know I like a man with wide shoulders, a sexy grin and eyes . . . eyes that twinkle with humor and heat. I remember the first time I met my hubby; what’s more, I remember the exact instant that his blue eyes met mine. My mom was trying to set us up, but I had just walked away from a bad marriage and I didn’t want to be set up. I didn’t want a man in my life--period. However, there was a little jolt of something when my gaze met his. Something that made me want to look longer, but almost a sense of rawness that demanded I look away. It’s as if I knew he could see too much in my gaze, that with just that one glance, he’d know what I felt and what I thought. And what I felt and thought was . . . Wow. I don’t want this, but if I did . . . Wow. You can guess that wow eventually won over.

2. What’s the most romantic thing a man has done for you?

I guess for my hubby’s sake, I should use him as the example, huh? Honestly, I got lucky in love—the second go round. I could name numerous things my hubby, aka my true life hero, has done over the years. I moved to California to escape an abusive relationship from my-then-soon-to-be-ex. The only thing I brought with me was a five-year-old and a duffle bag of possessions. Less than two months after I met Steve, I found a brand new car parked in my parking spot at my apartment. It was a gift from him, because he deemed the clunker car I was driving unsafe for me and my daughter.

Then there was the honeymoon cabin he rented with a fireplace in the bedroom because I’d once said that making love in front of a fireplace would be so romantic. We had to crank down the air conditioner to light that fireplace on our wedding night, but I was right. It was amazing.
However, I think the most romantic gesture he’s ever done was something he said about seventeen years after we were married. Though I have to admit that at the moment he said it, I didn’t think it was going to be so romantic. I thought . . . well, let me just tell you.

We were out having dinner and he’d been a little quiet, and then he looked at me and said, “You are not the same woman I married.” My heart stopped, I felt blindsided, and didn’t think I was going to like where this conversation was headed. I knew I’d put on a few pounds. And I’d put a lot of time in on my writing career. Had it hurt my marriage? Fear nearly had me choking on my egg roll.

With a serious look in his eyes he continued, “I married a young woman; she was a little vulnerable and a lot scared to trust anyone. She was practically a girl who didn’t really know what she wanted out of life. And look at you now. You’re a writer who has a passion for what you do, one who has faced more rejection, who has shown more courage to chase her dream, than anyone I know. I’m so proud of you.” See why I love this man? You know, I may not have given my fictional heroes my hubby’s abs (Sorry, babe), but I gave each and every one of them his heart, his sense of humor, and his ability to make a woman feel loved.

3. What’s the worse date/romantic disaster you’ve ever had?

Okay…this is about hubby, too. You see, as much of a hero as he is, when we were first dating, he was trying too hard. And you know what happens when you try too hard, don’t you? You mess up. Well, we hadn’t been dating long and he took me to his place. We were going to cook dinner together and have a quiet evening. At that time he was still doing the gentlemanly thing of opening and closing doors for me. I had a bag of groceries in my hand and when I went to get out of the car, he was already opening the passenger door for me. I stepped out and he closed the car door with a solid thud. A solid and painful thud.

I looked at him and calmly asked if he would open the door.

He calmly asked, “Did you forget something?”

I calmly nodded my head even thought I was gritting my teeth.

“What did you forget?” he asked.

Wincing, and no longer able to handle the pain, I said rather loudly. “My hand.”

He’d shut my hand in the car door. Our quiet evening was spent with an ice on my fingers.

And yeah, in spite of that, I still married him. And I would do again in a heartbeat.

4. If you’ve been married for a while, what sweet things does your spouse do that makes you fall in love with him all over again?

Hubby doesn’t drink coffee, never has. But every night he grinds my fresh coffee beans and sets up my coffee to brew at 6:30. He even sets out a cup, a spoon and my creamer. One morning I woke up and there wasn’t any coffee made. He’d forgotten. I started grinding my coffee beans and I hear him running down the stairs. “I’m sorry,” he called out as hit the bottom of the steps. He made me stop making the coffee and he did it for me.

“You know I can make it,” I told him.

“I know,” he said. “But I like spoiling you.”

And he has and does. I personally think it’s because I forgave him for slamming my hand in the car door. LOL.

5. What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for your Valentine?

Yes, I’ve done the sexy nightgowns. The whipped cream. (Hey, it was research for a scene.) I’ve baked pies that he loves, cooked his favorite foods. But as crazy as it seems, I think the most romantic thing was that whenever he would go away on a trip, I would put love notes in his pockets and hidden in his luggage. One time, he called me a few days into a trip. “You didn’t put notes in my luggage,” he said, sounding hurt.

I knew then that those silly notes had meant something to him. The funny thing was that I had put them in his luggage, but just not in both suitcases. He’d come in while I’d been hiding them, and I didn’t get to put as many of the little love notes in there as I normally did. So I told him to look in the other suitcase. He did.

Ahh, love, it’s funny how the little things can mean so much.

Happy Valentine’s Day, guys! I wish all of you love and laughter. Go hug someone today—be it your spouse, a child, a parent, or just a friend. Let the people you love know it. And make sure you enter my contest and help me get the word out about latest baby, Murder, Mayhem and Mama, now out at Amazon.

LOVE IS SCARY! by Diane Kelly

I was driving in Fort Worth the other day and happened to pass the Hangman’s House of Horrors, a former meatpacking plant that is turned into a haunted house each Halloween. The building sported a huge banner that read “Open for Valentine’s Day.” I found myself chuckling at the very idea. A haunted house on what is supposed to be the most romantic day of the year? Yeah, right. Because nothing says “love” like a traipse through an old factory full of dismembered body parts and crazy rednecks terrorizing you with a chainsaw.

But then I realized that maybe they were on to something. Love is actually scary, isn’t it? Love makes a person vulnerable. It’s terrifying to give our hearts to someone, to trust them not to toy with it or trample on it or betray it. And when it comes to settling down, to picking a partner for life, it can be frightening to wonder whether we are making the right choice.

When I think back to when my husband and I became serious about each other all those years ago, I recall the things that drew me to him. He seemed to understand me in a way no one else ever had, and he accepted me for who I am, tolerating my many flaws, irritating habits, and idiosyncrasies without suggesting I should work to change myself. He had a cat, which meant he was caring and compassionate, not a macho sh*thead. He had an understated but warped sense of humor, too, which I found to be a lot of fun. He drove a Toyota Tercel sporting a bumper sticker that read “You may not remember me, but I’m wearing your underwear.” How could I not fall for him?

But the biggest factor that told me back then that he was THE ONE was that the thought of spending the rest of my life with him didn’t cause me to suffer an anxiety attack. With my previous boyfriends, I knew deep in my heart that things could never last, at least not happily. I’d tire of them or they’d tire of me. There were things about them I couldn’t live with long term and/or things about me I knew they wouldn’t be able to live with.

Did any of you have the same experience? What made you know your partner was THE ONE? What is the most scary thing to you about falling in love?

DEATH, TAXES, AND A SKINNY NO-WHIP LATTE, book #2 in Diane's Death and Taxes Series, will be released on March 1st! Book #1, DEATH, TAXES, AND A FRENCH MANICURE, is in bookstores now and is currently only $2.99 in digit format!

Roses are Red by guest author Maria Grazia Swan

They always traveled in the comfort of a refrigerated van, but today, February 13^th they were so cramped and tightly squeezed together that they involuntarily poked each other.

            “Same ol, same ol,” said Bloom, the grand dame of them all and the number one whiner. “What’s so special about tomorrow? All those fools running out to buy flowers and candy. What for? Like bringing roses once a year is going to make a difference.”

            “Oh, you be quiet,” said Pinkie. The youngest and the sweetest, she was traveling with dozens of her sisters and found the adventure “awesome.”

            “I hope I end up with a first love,” sighed Ruby, the most colorful and romantic of them all.

Just then the van came to a screeching halt in front of a Flowerama shop, and all the traveling guests were transferred inside.

            Expert hands separated and assigned them to different spots in the store. Bloom and her followers took the place of honor, in the large window.

Pinkie and her siblings occupied the center of the room.

Ruby waited patiently for her assignment, but somehow she went unnoticed until closing time. The cleaning crew found her in the same spot she landed upon arrival and decided to move her to the storage room to keep her out of the way while they cleaned the place. She was still there after they turned out the lights and all went quiet. She called out to Bloom and Pinkie but they all had already left on assigned tasks. 

The next morning the ring of the phone and loud voices awakened her.

“Sorry, we are all out, but we have magnificent gladioli and sweet smelling carnations. Okay, very sorry.” The voice of the woman Ruby assumed was the boss.

“Can you imagine? Procrastinators! They always wait until the last minute. Good luck to them. We had a great day yesterday, and all our roses are gone.”

But I’m still here, thought Ruby from her involuntary hiding place. She remained there throughout the day, patiently waiting to fulfill her destiny. This day was what her whole existence had been about. The Valentine’s Day whisper had traveled the rumor mill of the green house for weeks. Only the best would be chosen. It was a great honor to go out in the world and make someone happy. It was all about love and giving.

During those cold February nights, the elders would tell tales of their best off- springs, and how photos of them, with the lucky recipients would make the front page of magazines, and year after year there would be stories celebrating that first romantic gift that led to splendid love stories and made legends out of ordinary blossoms. Ruby heard that some of the lucky ones even got conserved and stayed with the lovers forever and ever.

That was her dream, her reason for wanting to be a first love’s Valentine. Apparently she had failed as the day grew short and she waited alone in the cold storage. She could tell it was closing time because the two young helpers had left, and she could hear the boss lady counting the receipts of the day. When the front door slammed she assumed the owner had left, but then she heard a new voice. It sounded like a man…no, a boy.

“I only need one,” said the boy.

“I’m sorry, young man, we are sold out. And we are about to close. Why did you wait until now? Procrastinating is never good.”

“It’s not like that,” the boy’s voice, again. “I bought a box of chocolates, but then she came to school with braces. She got braces yesterday, and her mouth hurts so bad there is no way she can chew. I hid the chocolates; I didn’t want her to feel even more self conscious of the braces. I have enough money left for one rose, because your ad says, ‘$1.99 for a rose with a ribbon.’”

“I understand son. I would give you a rose for free, but I have none left. Let me see what else might work”

I’m here, get me! If only roses could be heard. And perhaps they can, because the owner came and glanced into the storage, and a slice of light landed on Ruby. She heard a small gasp. “Well, well, well. Where did you come from?”

And just like that, Ruby fulfilled her destiny and her dream. Somewhere, many years later, I’m sure Ruby is still in some young woman’s room, upright and proud having been carefully dried and preserved, and I bet she still gets affectionate glances from a lucky gal with straight teeth.

May you have a love-filled Valentine’s Day, and may all your roses be lucky in love.

~ Maria Grazia Swan

http://www.mariagrazia.tv/            

 

The Mystery of Fried Okra with guest Melissa Bourbon

I am all about food.  Seriously.  I wanted to be a chef when I was in high school.  I was determined!  The Culinary Institute in Napa was on my radar.  But my dad said, “Why don’t you go to college for two years and then you can transfer?” 



Sneaky dad.  It was a question, sure, but it was really non-negotiable.  Two years later, I  said, “Two years are up, Napa here I come!”



To which he replied, “But you’re halfway there, why don’t you just finish?”



And so I did.  I met my husband, discovered a passion for teaching, and gave up my dream of being a chef.  Quite a few years, and five kids later, I discovered a new dream: writing.  But food is never far from what I write.



In the Lola Cruz mystery series (Bare-Naked Lola comes out in April), the Cruz family owns a Mexican restaurant.  And in my Magical Dressmaking Mystery series, Southern comfort abounds...quite often in the form of fried fare.



Fried Chicken

Fried Okra

Tex-Mex, which means ReFried Beans and Fried Tortillas

Peach Cobbler (okay, it’s not fried, but it might as well be!)



I could go on and on, but you get the gist.  While there aren’t many strictly foodie scenes, food plays a bit part in an awful lot of my books. 

From A Fitting End:


     In a daze, I wandered to the kitchen.  Cornbread.  I needed    some cornbread.  And fried okra.



From Deadly Patterns (coming October 2012):


     “Hmmm?”  Her attention never wavered from the kitchen where I could see the mess of okra I’d bought at the market spilled over the counter and Josie pouring half a box of cornmeal into a gallon-sized baggie.  I didn’t have fried okra, so she was going to make some.

     Made sense.

 

In case you’ve never tried fried okra, here’s how it’s done:



Wash a mess of okra and cut into bite size pieces.

Toss okra bits with mix of egg and tiny bit of water.

Now toss in a baggie filled with cornmeal.



Fried in frying pan, taking care to let okra brown on one side before turning...or... spray with olive oil cooking mist and bake at about 390 degrees, turning, until browned.



Eat this instead of popcorn!  Really.  It’s pretty tasty.

And there you have it.  My obsession with food.  I wasn’t even going to write about okra or give a recipe, but I couldn’t help myself.  I’m a foodie at heart!

 ~ Melissa Bourbon


Blurb:  A Fitting End



Former Manhattan fashion designer Harlow Jane Cassidy has a gift for creating beautiful dresses.  But when Harlow becomes the prime suspect in a murder investigation, she’ll more than her sewing skills to unravel the mystery…

Business is booming at Harlow’s custom dressmaking boutique, Buttons & Bows, even with the presence of her great-grandmother’s ghost hanging around the shop.  But thanks to the fast approaching Margaret Moffette Lea Pageant and Ball, Harlow has her work cut out for her when Mrs. Zinnia James hires her to make her granddaughter’s pageant gown.

With the debutant ball getting the whole town of Bliss, Texas into a tizzy, Harlow knows her dress has to be perfect.  But when a local golf pro is found stabbed to death with dressmaking shears, the new deputy thinks Harlow and Mrs. James conspired to commit the crime.  Now Harlow has to finish the dress on time and clear her name before the next outfit she designs is a prison jumpsuit…


Read an excerpt

Order:

Amazon Print

Barnes & Noble


Praise for A Fitting End

“The second Dressmaker’s paranormal Mystery is a fun family affair… Fans will enjoy Harlow Jane’s amateur sleuthing with advice from her late great-grandma and the Texas posse while also seeking two degrees of Robert Redford.” ~ The Mystery Gazette

Hitting the Big Girl List

This week two very cool things happened to me. 

The first: As amanda was awesome enough to point out in her post, I hit the USA Today Bestseller list with my High Heels Mysteries Boxed set.  Woohoo!  Okay, to be more actuate, this week I learned that I had hit the list this week.  It turns out this title had actually been on it for 4 weeks without me knowing.  (insert me thunking head against desk here)  This is one downfall of self-publishing – you are totally on your own.  My agent didn’t think to look because she has no access to my sales numbers so had no idea how much this book was selling.  My publishers didn’t think to look because I don’t have any new release from either of them this month.  It was only because I mentioned something in a thread with other writers about how I hoped to “hit a big girl list” someday that someone was kind enough (Amanda) to point out to me that, “Uh, Gemma?  You already have hit a big girl list, dear.”  And while everyone was very nice about it, I’m sure they were all thinking how very blonde I am.  That’s okay.  I will take the teasing for the rest of my life.  I hit a list and that was all that mattered!

That same week, another indie published author, Catherine Bybee, announced that she hit the NY Times Bestseller List with her book Wife by Wednesday.  I was thrilled for her!  While I didn’t know her personally, I always get little goosebumps when I see an indie author hit the big lists.  While I love my publishers, there’s something cool about seeing an author do it all on her won.  So I email Catherine to congratulate her, and we chatted back and for in email about indie publishing in general.  Then when the NY Times List was published online, Catherine emailed me.

“Uh, Gemma… did you know that you’re on the list this week, too?”

Yes, my blondeness just hit a new high.  I had no idea.  But she as right.

I was on the New York Times Bestseller list! 

First, I refreshed the browser about fifteen times, making sure there was no mistake.  then I got my glasses, to make sure I was indeed seeing my name on the list.  Then I jumped up and down with sheer glee (silently, as my toddler was napping next to me).  I always thought I would cry when I hit the NY list, but honestly I was all smiles.  Big, ear to ear smiles.  ISee, ’m not what you’d call an overnight success.  This had been several long years in the making - several hours of tears and heartache over missed deadlines, lost editors, closed publishing houses, bad covers, and teeny tiny advances.  To say I was grateful was a huge understatement.  Like saying I’m only a little blonde.  ;)

Having hit two big lists in one week I had to celebrate.  Unfortunately, I’m still battling morning sickness, so dinner out was a no go.  No champagne for me either.  And I’m honestly too tired to go dancing or out to do anything physical lately.  Finally, I deiced on the one way to celebrate that could never let me down – shopping.  I went to Macy’s and bought the prettiest, coolest, best handbag in the store, making myself for once not even look at the price (which, for a thrifty Scottish girl like me is really saying something). 

Then I stopped by the jewelry department and bought a couple of sparkly things on clearance, too.   I couldn't help it. I had a coupon!  :)


~Trigger (and handbag!) Happy Halliday