It's the end of the world as we know it...

And I feel fiiiiiiiiine!

If you're reading this, then the Mayans got it wrong. The world, in fact, did not end on December 21, 2012. According to timeanddate.com, the end of the world was supposed to occur at 11:11 UTC, which is 3:11 am PST. I'm not sure when exactly you're reading this, but I set it to go live at 8:00 am EST (or 5 am PST), which means if you're able to read it, rejoice!

We're all still here.

Unless heaven has internet access, of course. Which is entirely possible, I suppose.

I've been fairly amused by some of the hype this week, including the fact that NASA felt the need to engage in myth-busting. Seriously, NASA. Pretty funny.

I particular liked this answer:

Q: Are there any threats to the Earth in 2012? Many Internet websites say the world will end in December 2012.
A: The world will not end in 2012. Our planet has been getting along just fine for more than 4 billion years, and credible scientists worldwide know of no threat associated with 2012.

What?! Do you mean to tell me that the ancient astronaut theorists quoted on the History Channel aren't credible scientists?! Really? Heresy, I tell you!

Anyway, I remember the first time in my lifetime that the world was supposed to end. With countless doomsday scenarios predicted since then, it seems amazing we'd actually taken it seriously at the time, but hey, I was a sophomore in high school. Melodrama was my specialty.

I vividly remember that day, actually. It was during football season, and I was a cheerleader. My friends and I figured that if the world was just going to end that afternoon anyway, why bother going to practice?

The radio had been reporting that apparently the sun would explode at precisely 3:00 pm EST, but one of my friends pointed out that it would take approximately 8 minutes for the effects of the explosion to reach us. So when school got out at 2:20, we figured we had 48 minutes to live. So we did what any good high school girl would do, and sat on the hill overlooking the football filed and ogled football players instead.

And I have to admit, we also kind of envied the football players. With all that gear on, they might actually stand a chance of survival.

So there we sat, eating cookies, drinking Diet Coke, giggling at cute boys, and listening to our local Top 40 station on someone's boom box, counting down the minutes left until impending doom. And just a few seconds after my watch ticked 3 pm, we heard a big BOOM!

Cue high-pitched girly shrieking and 12 cheerleaders jumping up and down and hugging one another. And then, to add insult to injury, this came on the radio:



Niiiiiice.

Anyway, it took a minute or two to realize that the boom couldn't possibly have been the sun exploding, because as pointed out previously, the effects wouldn't have reached us that quickly if the sun had actually exploded at 3 pm. (I know, I know...none of us had taken Physics yet.)

And then once 3:08 passed and we were still here, we realized that, duh, the loud sound was actually construction happening on one of the portable classrooms. But by that point, practice was almost over, so we decided to just knock off early and go home.

Anyway, the world didn't end that day.  And since it didn't end today either, you might as well fill up your e-reader, and I have just the ticket for you! My boxed set, Dani Spevak Mysteries Bundle, is part of a massive promotion today FOR ONE DAY ONLY!

It's the "99 Authors, 99 Books, 99 Cents" sale!

Today only, 99 fabulous titles -- from authors such as Jillian Dodd, Bob Mayer, CJ Lyons, Juli Alexander, Laurie Kellogg, Vivi Anna, Diane Capri, Cate Rowan, and others -- are marked down to 99 cents. But that's not it!

There's also $990 in prizes up for grabs, including a $500 Amazon gift card and a Kindle Fire HD. So click on over and browse for some great reads, and when you're done shopping, be sure to click on the Prizes page and enter to win!

Happy reading and happy holidays!

On Deadline

The other lovely ladies of this blog have experienced this particular hell on numerous occasions, but as the "baby" of the group with only one book currently under my belt, this is my first time.

The deadline!

(I sort of hear scary music in my head when I read that last line.)

It's not exactly a secret that after getting tired of waiting for NY to call, I listened to my biggest cheerleaders (writing friends like the fabulously talented Gemma Halliday, Kristen Painter, Rhonda Stapleton, Gwen Hayes, and Melissa Francis) and took matters into my own hands last year and self-published my debut novel, Codename: Dancer. I've never hidden that fact.

So if I'm my own publisher, why am I tearing my hair out about a particular release date for my sophomore effort? Why don't I just suck it up and say "Gee, I've overpromised and underperformed. Mea culpa" and bump that sucker back a month or two? Any reasonable person would do that, especially when they have a newborn in the house. (Although I guess he's not really a newborn anymore at this point...going on 4 1/2 months!)

I guess all those pregnancy and new mama hormones must have messed with my system, because I'm clearly not reasonable. Or sane. Or maybe I never was.

I'd originally intended for Pointe of No Return to be a November 2011 release, just in time for Christmas. Would have been perfect, since it takes place behind the scenes of Nutcracker rehearsals. But one year ago this Sunday I got a little surprise. A wonderful one. About an hour after hitting "publish" on Codename, my husband and I found out we were expecting our second child. So between working full time as an attorney, raising a toddler, and baking the new bun, I was all tapped out. No time left for writing.

Needless to say, I missed that release date. By six months.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have a new release date. May 14, 2012, as given to me by the awesome marketing team at Barnes & Noble. Upon Gemma's encouragement, I applied for -- and was accepted into -- the NOOKFirst program, which means that Pointe will be released exclusively for the NOOK for a period of 30 days before it's available elsewhere. They only select 4 titles per month, so I'm super excited about it.

So here I am at the tail end of my maternity leave, totally stressed out. I'm going through the book one more time before sending it to the editor. I've never written on deadline before, and frankly, I'm not sure I like it. Yeah, it got me to type THE END whereas I might have meandered and wasted even more time if I didn't have a concrete target date. But man, the stress sucks.

So besides writing a decent chunk of the new book, what else have I been doing since I gave birth? I also wrote a short story called "Barre Hopping at Midnight" which appears in the super cool FREE young adult anthology, Eternal Spring.

Yes, I said "free." It will be at all the major retailers next month, but for now you can download it from Smashwords. We hope you like it!

Did I mention it's free?

The anthology includes stories from such awesome YA authors as RITA finalist Stephanie Dray, Diana Peterfreund, Tawny Stokes, Juli Alexander, Rhonda Stapleton, and others. It's got something for everyone, with contemporary, paranormal, urban fantasy, and historical stories.

Here's the blurb:
Flowers, vacation, baseball, prom…what does spring mean to you? From unicorn hunters and teenage exorcists to Egyptian princesses and aspiring ballerinas, this collection of thirteen stories by some of the most exciting authors in Young Adult fiction explores young love and new beginnings during the most beautiful time of the year.

And here's the description of mine:
“Barre Hopping at Midnight” by Amanda Brice
How can aspiring ballerina Dani Spevak concentrate on performing at a spring arts festival when her not-quite-boyfriend is in town filming the lead in a hot new vampire movie and he was seen kissing his costar?

Yes, this short story is part of my Codename world, and fits chronologically between Books 2 and 3, although it stands alone and can be read in any order.

Oh, and it's free.

It's March already?

Where have the last 3 months gone? March Madness is on the horizon, Duke plays Carolina in Cameron tomorrow, and Baby Alex is already 3 months old. Craziness!

I had originally planned to go back to work in April, but that was back when I figured we'd get a spot in his sister's daycare. Well, we will, but probably not until June, but possibly as late as September.

September! Yikes! Considering he was born at the end of November...yeah, there's no way I can stay on maternity leave for 9 months. Even June is pushing it, but is more doable.

But in the end, having the extra time at home is going to be a blessing. Not only do I have more time to spend with the cute little guy, but I've decided to put it to advantage and really get some good writing done.

At Gemma's suggestion, I decided to apply for the Nook First program through Barnes & Noble. I'm not really a huge fan of exclusivity agreements as a matter of principle, but since Nook First is just 30 days and is only for new releases, I figured it was worth an experiment.



I'm super excited to announce that Barnes & Noble has selected Pointe of No Return as the May 14 Nook First pick! B&N only spotlights 4 books per month in the Nook First program, so this is really cool.

But this means that Pointe will only be available as a NookBook for the first month, so all other readers will have to wait until June 13. So I've decided to run an ARC contest right now. Leave a comment and you'll be entered to win an ARC of Pointe of No Return once it's ready. It's still in revisions at the moment, but I'm working hard to get it ready to publish in May, so hope to have the ARC ready to be sent in April.

Pointe is the sequel to Codename: Dancer. Dani is assigned to understudy her nemesis Hadley in the Nutcracker. Which is a big honor for a freshman, except it means she won't get a chance to dance in the performance. So when Hadley mysteriously goes missing, Dani doesn't really have any incentive to try to find her. Except knowing Dani, she won't stand by when there's a mystery to uncover!

It's got kidnapping, a drug ring, dirty politicians, and the "Real Trophy Wives of Scottsdale." Throw in some great dancing and you've got "Pointe of No Return!"

So consider this an IOU. If you win, I'll send you an e-book copy in the format of your choice in April.

And for now, enjoy the first chapter!

__________________________________________________

Normally it would be pervy for a middle-aged man to touch a teenager’s rear. But there hasn’t been anything normal about my life ever since I moved to Arizona earlier this fall.

“Miss Spevak, your lines are a disgrace.”

“Point your toes!”

“Posture, Miss Spevak! Lift your carriage and lengthen your body!”

“You ladies dance like apes!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to tuck your buttocks?”

That last one might be cause for sexual harassment complaints anywhere else, but not here. I’m a student at Mountain Shadows Academy of the Arts, majoring in dance. I divide my days between ballet and biology, tap and trigonometry, hip hop and history.

“Well, Miss Spevak?” Grigor Dmilov, the legendary principal dancer from the Phoenix Ballet, towered over my five-foot-three frame. His dark eyes bored into me as he pretended to wait for an answer that didn’t really matter since the question was rhetorical anyway – dancers aren’t allowed to talk in class. He used to intimidate me when I first came here.

Oh, who am I kidding? He still intimidates me. I just don’t cry in the shower after class anymore.

Much.

The difference now is that I know corrections are an important part of the process. We spend six hours every day in the studio, striving for perfection. Sometimes it felt like our teachers loved to torture us, but they were just trying to get us to live up to our potential and beyond. Getting corrections was a compliment because it showed that the teachers wanted to nurture your talent.

Not being noticed at all was far more damaging to your career. Nobody wanted to be invisible.

I stood straighter, lifting my rib cage and tucking my derriere under as I prepared to bend my knees and lower myself to the ground in a grand plié. I have a natural tendency to slouch, so even though I’ve been dancing for years, I still have to consciously remind myself not to. It may be more comfortable, but it definitely doesn’t look very nice. Monsieur Dmilov pushed on the back of my thigh to verify that I’d engaged my gluts, then satisfied that I had readjusted my alignment, moved on to his next victim.

The class raced through the positions – first, second, fourth, fifth – skipping third since it was useless, finally finishing with a grand port de bras to stretch our bodies. As I leaned forward, dropping to the ground with a graceful sweeping motion before straightening back up again, I caught the accompanist’s eye and smiled.

It was a standard barre exercise, just like the start of class on any other day. Only it wasn’t any other day. Today was Nutcracker audition day.

The nervous energy in the theatre was palpable. The next ninety minutes would determine how we’d spend the rest of the fall semester. What roles would we dance? A soldier or a soloist?

I looked around the stage at a sea of clones. In their black leotards, pink tights, satin toe shoes, slim physiques, and hair pulled back into a tight bun, the other girls looked almost identical to me, like a genetic experiment gone awry. At first glance, the only way to tell us all apart was by skin tone and hair color.

I wondered whether this was intentional. By tamping down our individual fashion sense in class, the underlying message was that we were not prima ballerinas. Yet. Most of us would be dancing in the corps, where our only responsibility was to perform choreography in a large group, nothing more. Standing out in the corps de ballet would mean you were doing something wrong, since the group was supposed to move as one body. The only time you wanted to be invisible.

A tall order for a group of girls who all had been the star back at home.

Would I be assigned to dance in the corps this year? Probably. I was just a freshman. The soloist roles were generally reserved for upperclassmen. Except for the boys, of course. Guys were lucky, because nobody really expected too much from them since they were few and far between. Girls were expected to be perfect, but as long as a guy could point his toes, jump, and make a reasonable effort at turns, everyone got excited and turned a blind eye to any deficiencies in his technique.
And if he was both cute and straight it was just a bonus.

It wasn’t fair.

But nothing in ballet was fair, so I would just have to suck it up and deal, otherwise I would spend every waking hour making rug angels of despair for the rest of my life. Nobody wanted to admit it, but everyone felt jealousy.

Even Hadley Taylor.

Mountain Shadows’ current star, Hadley was a junior and everyone’s prediction for this year’s Sugar Plum Fairy. She was also a certifiably unpleasant person to be around.

Look up the B-word in the dictionary and they have a picture of her right under the definition.

Or they should.

Hadley commanded the place of honor at the front of the barre. It wasn’t an official position or anything. She just grabbed it on the first day of class and nobody was brave enough to challenge her for it. Not that it would matter anyway. Her dad was a major donor to the school.

A sharp clap broke my reverie and brought me back to the here-and-now. “Grands battements. Four front, four side, four back, four side. Á la seconde, you will close front first. Front, back, front, back.”

Monsieur Dmilov briefly marked the pattern of the exercise, using his arms to substitute for his legs since we were supposed to understand simply from the names of the steps. “Crisp movements, ladies. At the end of each one, bring your feet back together in a tight fifth. If I try to squeeze a credit card between them, I should not succeed.” He nodded at our reigning teen queen. “Miss Taylor, please demonstrate.”

Hadley didn’t even attempt to suppress her smug smile as she effortlessly kicked her leg high in the air. She had exquisite extension, each movement fluid. She was born to dance.

And she knew it.

But so was I. And I was going to show them.

An hour later, sweaty and feeling the burn of the workout tingling in every inch of my muscles, I dropped to the floor with the rest of the girls in grand révérance to our instructor and accompanist. I’d done this at the end of every ballet class for years, but today the curtsy was almost a prayer. An offering sent up to hopefully ensure a role. If I knew an Indian rain dance I’d probably try that, too.

We could use the rain in Arizona.

I just had to dance a solo. Clara would be great. Or Snow Queen. Or even one of the life-sized dolls. I wasn’t picky.

Normally we would exit as quickly as possible, rushing to get back to the dorms, but today we all lingered, hoping to catch a glimpse of the cast list as soon as it was posted.

“You looked great today, Dani,” my friend Maya Sapp said as I untied the satin ribbons of my toe shoes.

“You, too.”

She laughed. “Now you’re just being nice.”

“No way. I saw that triple pirouette during the adagio. It was gorgeous. So smooth you almost hung in the air.”

“Well, I fully expect I’ll be dancing Snow again.”

“Snow Queen?”

She shook her head. “One of the snowflakes in the corps. I think Ana’s got that solo in the bag.”

I had to agree. Our friend Analisa San Miguel was the epitome of elegance and grace. She’d make a beautiful Snow Queen. She hadn’t come backstage yet, but had instead climbed into the orchestra pit to chat with the accompanist and practice her Spanish.

Well, that was one solo down. No, make that two. Hadley would definitely be Sugar Plum.

“Who do you think will be Clara?” I asked.

Me, me, me, me, me, I silently chanted, as if that could actually make it come true.

Maya shrugged. “I don’t know. I think you’re probably a strong contender. Or maybe Kat?”

“But she’s a triple threat. Why would she want to be Clara?”

“Just because she wants to sing and dance on Broadway doesn’t mean she wouldn’t want a lead in a ballet.”

I wrinkled my brow. “I thought she was a senior. Isn’t that too old to dance the part of a twelve-year-old?”

“Not on stage. Kat’s short. She could pull it off. Besides, pros do it all the time in the companies, and they’re in their twenties.”

Crap.

She was right. And Kat would be perfect for the part. She had such an innocence about her when she danced. A natural actress. I could almost picture her skipping around the stage in the party scene with the wooden nutcracker, a present from her weird Uncle Drosselmeyer.

Okay, back to the drawing board.

Maybe I could dance Arabian? Or Chinese? The around-the-world dances in the Land of Sweets were always a crowd pleaser. Arabian would be super hot.

I shoved my toe shoes in my bag and was standing up to leave when Analisa joined us.
“Good class today. Easy,” she said, tucking an imaginary stray wisp back into her tight bun.

Easy? My legs hurt way too much for a supposed easy class. But no way was I about to admit that. Especially not with Hadley within earshot.

In the great scheme of things, I guess it wasn’t the most technically challenging class I’d ever taken. It seemed designed to observe us more than anything. I guess the challenge was in impressing the director.

“Dmilov was totally loving you,” she continued, looking directly at me.

He was? “No way. He kept criticizing me.”

“Dani, Dani, Dani.” Maya shook her head. “Haven’t you learned anything yet? Criticism is good.”

I knew that, but sometimes the fragile artist’s self-esteem needs a boost.

Especially when you were afraid you’d danced like a cow.

Or looked like one.

“Much better to be noticed than not,” Analisa agreed.

Maya laughed. “Like me. He totally ignored me. I could’ve just slept in and nobody would’ve been the wiser. But I expected that.”

“Why?” I asked. “You were on Teen Celebrity Dance-Off. You’re one the best dancers at the school!”

“I’m a contemporary dancer, Dani. Ballet’s not my thing. Not like it is for you and Ana. You’re the bunheads.” She shrugged and rolled her shoulders to work out the kinks in her muscles. “It’s okay. I’ll have fun dancing Snow. I already know the choreography.”

“Wanna go grab a smoothie while we wait?” Analisa asked.

I flinched, both from the question and from the pain of my bleeding toes as I peeled back the lamb’s wool I’d shoved inside my dance shoes. (I always laugh when people say that dancers probably have the nicest feet. Do they actually know any dancers?)

Did I really need the extra calories and sugar from a smoothie? I had costumes to fit into – well, I would if I got a role, that is.

Maya must have seen my hesitation because she answered for me. “Yes, she does. Let’s get out of here.”

We left campus and walked the two blocks to Groovie Smoothie. I thought about ordering a bottle of water and calling it a day, but I knew Ana and Maya weren’t going to hear of it. I knew they were worried about me, but they were wrong. I didn’t have a problem.

Really.

Sure, I’d agreed last month to see a body image counselor. And I’d been going, but it wasn’t the least bit necessary. Interesting – I was learning a lot – but not for me.

The dance department was full of hypocrites. They encouraged us to do whatever it took to be slim and trim so we would look good up on stage, but they didn’t want the liability of their dancers ending up hospitalized. So my counseling was just a formality, and everyone knew it.

Besides, I didn’t have a problem. Really.

“I’ll have an extra-large Mango Madness with a raspberry swirl.” I could just have a fruit smoothie, no need for yogurt. Lo-cal, no fat. Perfect. “Oh, and a soft pretzel,” I added with pointed look at Maya.

See, I didn’t have a problem. Really.

We grabbed our snacks and headed back to the theatre to check on the result.

No list. Damn.

We were just packing up to go back to the dorms when an excited cry rang out from the far end of the room. “The list!”

I limped down the aisle to join the crowd of girls all huddled around a small sheet of paper tacked to the wall. The list contained both girls’ and boys’ names, even though the particular audition we’d just completed was girls-only. The boys took class in a different studio, and their audition was less competitive since there were so many fewer of them so they were pretty much all guaranteed roles.

The crowd was six deep in front of the soloist list, so I checked out the results for the corps first.

My eyes scanned down to the S’s:

Maya Sapp
Talia Small
Alexa Sutton
Lydia Tsai

They skipped me. They skipped me! Which could only mean one thing.

I was going to be a soloist! Sweet!

“Excuse me. Pardon me,” I said, elbowing my way to the front of the other list.

OMG! My name, right there in bold font.

Sugar Plum Fairy
Hadley Taylor
Daniela Spevak (understudy)

Me – the Sugar Plum Fairy! As a freshman! I couldn’t believe it, but there it was in black and white. I couldn’t wait to share my news.

I spun around and saw Analisa and Maya. “I’m dancing Sugar Plum!”

“No, I’m dancing Sugar Plum,” Hadley sneered, behind me.

“What do you mean?”

Analisa bit her lip. “You’re the understudy, Dani.”

I turned back to the list and checked it again. She was right. I was the understudy.
Worse yet, I was Hadley’s understudy. How could I have missed that crucial piece of info?

“That’s fantastic, Dani.” Maya threw her arms around me and enveloped me in a bear
hug. “You go, girl!”

I shrugged out of her grasp and scanned the list again. My name didn’t appear anywhere other than that understudy role. It had to be a mistake.

“I’m not…performing?”

Hadley laughed. “Looks that way. Sucks to be you.”

Now I knew why dancers say “merde” instead of “good luck.” This was shit. For real.

But I wasn’t going to let anyone see me cry.

I looked at the cast list again. Maya was right – Analisa was going to be the Snow Queen. I was thrilled for her. I really was.

But why didn’t I get a role? I mean, I’m just a freshman, so I guess I shouldn’t have expected a solo. I was honored to understudy such a prestigious role at just fourteen years old, but why couldn’t I also be a Snowflake or even a girl in the party scene?

“Congrats, Hadley,”

I said, pasting on my happy face. “And Ana, yay!”

After the requisite round of congratulations, I sneaked out the back with the rest of the rejects while everyone else was still chattering about the upcoming rehearsals.

Hours and hours of rehearsals that I would have to attend, even though I wouldn’t get a chance to dance in the performances. Because let’s face it. Short of a tragedy, there was no way Hadley wouldn’t be dancing.

It just wasn’t fair.

Why wasn’t I good enough? Monsieur Dmilov corrected me, so I know he saw something in my dancing that he wanted to cultivate. And just last month I danced on national TV. So it couldn’t be my dancing.

Which only left one thing.

I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

Guest blogger: Diana Layne!

I'm thrilled to welcome my Ruby Sister Diana Layne to the Killer blog today in honor of her debut release, A Pirate's Proposal, a historical romance which will be out on January 18 from the Wild Rose Press, and her mainstream suspense/thriller, The Good Daughter, a mafia tale that is coming soon on Amazon. And since her guest blog is during our Killer contest, any comments left today will be extra entries for the Kindle or Nook grand prize!



So here's Diana!

___________________________

I NEED TO GET ORGANIZED…AGAIN!

Hi, everyone, I’m so happy to be here at Killer Fiction! Since we’re all friends, I have a confession for you: Organization does not come easy to me. I have to work at it and work hard…and if I’m not diligent, I find that once again clutter is controlling my life.

Unfortunately, I came out of a book editing fog right before Christmas and noticed that clutter had once again regained control.

I had just started my baking and hadn’t even begun wrapping. The mess of paper on the floor is what I dug out of the closet. I’m sure I put it up much more neatly last year. Didn’t I?

Now, in my defense, there are anywhere from 7 to 10 people living at my house at any one time. Even though I have six children, four of them are grown, and how so many ended up back home is a puzzle to me. Currently we are at 7 ¾ as my new granddaughter will be born in March.

I homeschool my youngest two (ages 7 and 9), I write, I shop and cook for the bunch. Others have pitched in with the cleaning, and I suspect this is where I’ve lost control. No one knows what current organizing system I’m using…mainly because I don’t know what system I’m using. I think coming up with a system needs to be a family affair now, right? Except they’re all in school and working and having babies…oh, when do we have time to get organized?

Still, if I can dig out some minutes in our day, (FlyLady says organizing can be done in fifteen minutes a day, more on her in a minute),there are tons of resources available. A long time ago I started with Confessions of an Organized Housewife. Yes, we were married to the house back then. At the time I only had three children, all under age five, and I ran three home businesses: housecleaning, daycare and teaching piano, and I also played piano for our church. Writing was only a longed-for, far-off dream to escape the hectic pace of life. With the hours in my day rapidly shrinking, this book was a sanity-saver back then; although, I will admit, it took me a while to get everything she proposed implemented. For example, one of her tips was to label each piece of your puzzles (like puzzle one, label all pieces, A, A, A, puzzle two, B, B, B, etc), then cut out the pictures on the lids and store pieces and picture in a plastic zip lock bag. I believe she then hole-punched the bags and stored them in notebooks. Well, we had a LOT of puzzles (this was before Internet) and I ran out of the alphabet. So then I started on numbers.

I also realized I was a piler not a filer so I tossed them all in a big bucket instead of the notebooks. (Are you a piler or filer? Take the quiz: here.)To this day, 25 years later, I still have those puzzles organized, and we made it through the years only losing a few pieces.

Once I got a system going, my life, and my family’s life, worked much better.
It seems like my organizing only lasts for so long though, and soon, I’m looking for inspiration to do it all again. This might be because at these times I’ve entered a new phase of life and need a new system. (Like homeschooling and writing and juggling a big family.)

If you Google, you’ll find plenty of organizing sites. I love organizing sites; I could read about organizing all day….

But seriously, two I absolutely love are FlyLady and Organized Home.

When I became a Flybaby, I diligently polished my sink every night prompting my husband, at one point, to question just exactly why I was doing that. (I believe his exact words were, “Why the hell do you keep cleaning the sink?”)

“I dunno,” I replied. “FlyLady said I had to.” And the FlyLady’s point is if you wake up to a clean, shiny sink, your day starts off better. The only problem with that is with so many people living here—10 at that time—I always woke up with dirty dishes in the sink. At least at my house, I guess dishes multiply like rabbits. I will admit that discouraged me so I abandoned FlyLady—at least until I get rid of every—oops, I mean until everyone moves.

As for the Organized Home site, lots of good articles and ideas and plenty of templates to print out for your home notebook, which is a notebook to help you keep things organized. I love making these notebooks, and there are templates for every kind of notebook you can imagine. After they’re made though, I tend to stare at them and turn the pages and admire their perfection. Use them though? Nah, not really.
Right now, what works best for me is my little day planner where I scribble everything down, even writing ideas. (This apparently is a piler tendency according to that test.) I decided at this time, I’m just going to try to hang on until the grown kids, spouses, and grandkids move back out, and then I’m renting a dump truck from the city and going through the house room by room and starting over. Just another year… :)

What about you? Do you have any great tips for staying organized?

Diana Layne writes in various genres, from historical romance to mainstream suspense. Her historical romance, Pirate’s Proposal will be released on January 18, 2012 from The Wild Rose Press. And her mainstream suspense, The Good Daughter, will be live on Amazon soon.

Four lucky commenters will receive an IOU for either Pirate’s Proposal or The Good Daughter (winners’ choice). For more info on each book please visit www.dianalayne.com


Pirate's Proposal The Good Daughter

New year...new baby...new works

ATTENTION KIMA! YOU'RE THE WINNER OF LESLIE LANGTRY'S $25 GIFT CARD. SHE'll CONTACT YOU WITH DETAILS. CONGRATS!!!!!

It's a new year! I'm home on maternity leave with my newborn. And I'm spoiled.

Admittedly I had a very, shall we say, challenging first baby. They always say "sleep when your baby sleeps." Well, that wasn't possible with her. She literally would only sleep every 30 minutes, morning noon or night.

But this one is a really good sleeper. He gives us a 5-hr stretch at night, followed by a 4-hr stretch. (And this is despite being exclusively breastfed, too!) And he even sleeps well during the day, too, so I can write.

Yes, that's right...I'm writing!!! I seriously doubted I would be able to, but I am, and it feels great.

I'm finishing up POINTE OF NO RETURN, which is the sequel to CODENAME: DANCER. I'm also working on a short story set in that same world that will be published in a multi-author ebook anthology this spring.

I'm pretty excited about the short story actually, but it doesn't have a title. So leave me a comment today with a suggestion for a title, and you'll be entered to win a $25 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble (your choice).

Here's the deal...the story takes place during spring break. My heroine and her friends are dance students at a performing arts boarding school and they solve mysteries in their spare time. They've gone to Sedona, Arizona (home of the famous gorgeous red rocks) for a class trip. My heroine is still flirting with her love interest, who is an inspiring actor. He's not there because he's in LA auditioning for a part in the brand new vampire movie based on the popular Midnight series (ahem, Twilight). My heroine and her friends are obsessed with vampires, btw.

I like punny titles and I make reference to the dance theme in some way, so I'd like to stick to that motif.

Any ideas?

CONTEST! SOMEONE WHO COMMENTS TODAY WILL WIN A $25 GIFT CARD TO EITHER AMAZON OR BN - YOUR CHOICE! AND...YOU WILL BE ENTERED TO WITH A KINDLE FIRE OR NOOK COLOR AT THE END OF THE CONTEST! CHECK IT OUT AND COMMENT!

Winner!! Barbara Elness you are the winner of a $25 B&N gift card from Christie Craig's Twitter contest. Please email her at Christie(at)christie-craig(dot)com with your snail mail address.

Guest Blog: Barbra Annino

Happy holidays! My gift to you is a great guest blog from author Barbra Annino. She's giving away 3 copies of her e-book, so be sure to leave a comment and you're entered to win!

Take it away, Barbra!

_________________________________________


I spent a great deal of time with my Irish grandmother and her sisters when I was young. Anyone familiar with the culture of the Emerald Isle knows it is steeped in superstition and supernatural phenomenon. Ghost stories weren't told around a dim campfire at our house. They were shared over coffee, cake and Marlboros. They were passed along like a saltshaker, not to be feared--"because the dead cannot hurt you, only the living can"--but to be revered as tiny lessons gifted to us by the dearly departed.

I used to watch the women in my family share recipes and swap stories that would scare the pants off my friends, but these women weren't fazed by the shocking tales they told. Often I would imagine--listening to them wax on about the prom date that disappeared through the cemetery bars as they whipped up batches of fresh baked bread--that they were witches implementing spells into their food.

And perhaps they were. Because I believe there's a little bit of witch in every woman. Although the potions may only be as exotic as a Cabernet and the spell may come in the form of a kind ear and chocolate layer cake, still, there is strength within us that can transcend any problem. There's something magical about that.

I wanted to create a character who had that kind of strength and that special form of magic. Stacy Justice, the protagonist in my gemstone series, is a strong woman who worries more about her family than her boyfriend. She's more interested in excelling at work than the latest shoe sale and above all, she tries to do the right thing. Which isn't always easy when your family is driving you crazy, your grandmother insists you are witch with a high calling and oh yeah, someone is trying to kill you.

The series is laugh-out-loud fun with a mix of mystery, magic and paranormal fantasy all rolled into one. You can learn more at my website: http://www.barbraannino.com. Or visit my Facebook page Barbra Annino.

Opal Fire, Stacy Justice Book One
Reporter Stacy Justice did not expect to be set on fire that night, but being raised by witches prepares one for life's little surprises. In fact, she isn't the least bit shocked when her cousin is accused of arson, or when her divorced grandparents sign up for a marriage retreat, or even when her own boyfriend hauls her off to jail. But when a decades-old corpse is discovered within the walls of her cousin's bar, even Stacy is rattled. Now, someone wants her dead and she finds herself dodging angry motorists, exploding chickens and a very creepy man who lurks around every corner. As she begins to unearth long-buried secrets, Stacy learns that even those closest to her have something to hide- and she's about to discover a destiny she never imagined.

As a special gift to readers of this blog, I'm offering three copies FREE. Just leave a comment and random.org will choose the winners. Delivery of ebooks via a Smashwords coupon.



Sincerely,
Barbra Annino

E is for Extra Large?

I was supposed to have a guest blogger today for my blogging maternity leave, but in my dusorganized state, I can't remember who'd signed up for today. Mea culpa. So you're stuck with me.

And I apologize for that, since this post may be somewhat less than coherent. You see, I'm tired. Ridiculously tired. And with good reason. I was discharged from the hospital a week ago today.

Yes, that's right, Killer Readers. I had my new baby boy last Monday (November 28)! I was actually supposed to have a scheduled c-section this past Monday (Dec 5), but the little man apparently takes after his big sis and decided to make his debut just under 2 weeks before his due date (which was supposed to be tomorrow, actually). Although he's nowhere near as impatient as his sister, since she chose to be born 6 weeks early. He stuck around in there a full 4 weeks longer.

(Speaking of his big sis...please wish her a happy birthday. She turns 2 today! Time flies!)

Anyway, even though I had a full month longer to plan and get things ready this time, invariably I ended up surprised and without anything done. Which was totally my fault, of course. I figured since I'd had a baby literally just 2 years ago (2 years ago today, actually!), there wasn't much I needed other than baby boy clothes. I had everything else -- carseat, crib, Pack n Play, bouncy seat, monitor, swing, etc.

Easy peasy. I was set.

What I didn't count on, however, was how much bigger my boobs would be this time. We're talking serious porn star range here. If I didn't know better, I'd think that the surgery I had last week included implants. Very, very large implants. If I can just lose this extra tummy fat I could probably do a centerfold in Playboy.

Yowzas!

I was totally caught off guard with this birth and hadn't even packed my bag yet. So I spent the next couple of days dictating a list of things for my husband to bring me from home. Of course, nursing bras were at the top of the list. But no biggie. He could just find them in my top dresser drawer.

Except they no longer fit. Like, not at ALL. I stopped nursing this past March and they fit me just fine then. They'd fit me all throughout the nearly 15 months I nursed my daughter. But not with my son. I was a 38 C then.

Not now.

My old nursing bras fit me while I was still in the hospital, but gradually became tighter and tighter shortly after I got home, until finally I couldn't take it any longer.

By Saturday night I was in sheer agony. What had once been a super comfy sleeping bra made from stretchy soft cotton had transformed overnight into a medieval torture device, binding me so tight I thought I would pass out. Corset? Pshaw. They have nothing on my old nursing bras.

So I took off the offending garment and was rewarded within a few seconds by two large wet spots on the front of my shirt. Niiiiiiice.

My mom offered to run out and get some new bras for me, but I couldn't even begin to guess what size I might be. No, I had to go to the store myself and try them on.

But I couldn't bear to strap myself back into that horrid contraption. But I also couldn't go out in public dripping, either.

So I came up with the brilliant solution of shoving a burp cloth under the front of my shirt. In my Percocet-ridden mind, it seemed ideal. It stopped the spreading dampness and provided camouflage from my enormous protruding nips. (I was afraid I was going to put someone's eye out with those things!)

I walked into the kitchen to grab a drink of water before heading out and was immediately greeted by the same question three different times from three different people (my mom, my dad, and my husband). What the heck was that under my shirt?

I proudly told them about my brilliant burp cloth idea. Fail. Even without hearing what each of the others had to say, Mom, Dad, and Mr. Brice all told me I looked like I was shoplifting. They begged me not to wear the burp cloth.

Fine. I put a jacket on over my t-shirt and kept my arms crossed tightly the entire time inside the store. (Needless to say, I brought along a stash of nursing pads in my purse so I wouldn't ruin the bras I was trying on.)

In the end, it was determined that I'm now a 38E. Mr. Brice is THRILLED.

Writing the Male POV with guest blogger Rita Henuber

Happy Thanksgiving!

Amanda is taking the next month or so off while she settles back in to life with a newborn. The new little man hasn't arrived -- yet -- but he's due shortly, so her buddy Rita Henuber is here today instead.

Male and female brains are hardwired differently. When it comes to love and relationships men are lousy communicators. Guys express themselves differently than gals and are not as complicated as women want to make them. Therefore writing Y chromosome dialogue can be challenging.

Take it back a million years. Females were driven to search out a strong mate to protect and provide for her and her offspring. The little woman stayed home and home schooled the kids teaching them not to play in dinosaur poop, to stay away from the fire, and quit rolling the family's only wheel down the hill. To relax, she painted her life on the cave walls and depicted how much she missed her guy.

Males were driven to spread their seed, pound their chest, protect their offspring from the dinosaurs, make the fire, and grump when the wheel got chipped. When he came back to the cave from a hunt and the little woman asked how it went, he grunted. To catch up on what happened while he was gone he checked out the cave wall and he found out how much she missed him and what she liked. -eyebrow wiggle here- .
So what's changed? Women still look for a protector and provider. Men are still driven to spread… well, we know, and they still grunt when you ask them a question. Each species has evolved and wants more from their mate. Men and women both want to be in a good relationship and find true love.

They still communicate those needs in different ways.

We as writers have to remember to put that difference on the page. Don't mess with the hard wiring and make your heroes so perfectly fit the mold we women want that they no longer fit the male species mold.

Start with the differences in the way we talk. Have you noticed we women tend to qualify what we say be ending the sentence with a question? "This color looks good on me, don't you think?" Guys do not do that.

Ask a guy a question that requires a yes or no -Do you want to ride into town with me?- men will answer yes or no. Ask a woman and she may say: "yes, but can we stop at mall first cause I want to exchange these pants I bought the other day. They're too long. If you don't want to stop it’s a no."

When writing dialogue for a guy the less words used the better. Men cut to the chase. They don't hem and haw and beat around the bush. They say what's on their mind. "Nice dress. Take it off." (From a Janet Evanovich book)

Then we have feelings- whoo O-O feel….ings.

Does your hero tell your heroine how he feels? Does he answer her when she asks how he feels? If the answer is yes then take a break and let's talk.

Even though you want your hero to be the man we gals want, having him talk about feelings early on could be asking your reader to suspend beliefs a bit too far.

Guys will gladly tell you what they think, but what they feel…? Try this experiment. Ask you DH, SO, any guy what they feel about a topic you know they are interested in. A couple of days later ask them what they think about it. In my tests the- how do you feel- got blank stares, a "huh?" and "that sucks." On the- what do you think,- I had a five minute monologue and way more information than I wanted.

What's the difference to a guy? The survey says: a guy is sure about what he thinks, but with his feelings he doesn't want to look like a fool to his woman. Men are intimidated by the fact women are born with a masters degree in talking about feelings. Also, they figure if everything is okay in the relationship she won't want to talk about feelings. Talking about feelings when things are going well, throws a guy out of the game. He gets nervous. Only after a relationship grows and he wants to make her happy does he begins to open up about his feelings. He doesn't exactly like it, but when she lets him know how worthwhile he is he becomes more willing to expose his own insecurities and sacrifice his comfort zone for her. Like, TALK about how he FEELS.

In general,a man feels his sacrifices show his love. Men love that power struggle, love to be in control and those sacrifices, big or small, will mostly center around that. It can be something as simple as letting his woman pick the radio station in the car when he wants to listen to the game. He derives great satisfaction when she acknowledges that sacrifice with a simple thank you, or a smile. I'm not saying a guy should forgo flowers on her birthday. I'm saying write smart. Show love in more than one way.

To wrap up. When writing the guys POV, use less words. Get to the point. Cut through the unnecessary. Consider subtle ways of him showing his love and showing her understanding that's what he's doing. Sounds like romance to me.

______________________________________

Rita Henuber is the author of UNDER FIRE, released this summer by Carina Press.

Coast Guard helicopter pilot Olivia Carver is on a very personal mission. Her twin brother, an undercover officer, was murdered by a drug cartel and she won’t stop until she finds the man responsible for his death.

In the course of her own investigation, Olivia meets informant Rico Cortes. He’s mysterious and sexy and despite her reservations, the two share a night of passion. But Rico turns out to be more than a one-night stand. He’s a DEA agent, deep undercover in Miami’s drug world, and possibly the one man who can help Olivia find the justice she seeks.

When Rico realizes his cover is blown, he isn’t sure whether it was someone in the cartel or an inside agent. Olivia is the only one he can trust and together they venture on a dangerous, rogue mission to infiltrate a drug lord’s inner circle…with Olivia as bait.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

It's Veteran's Day, so before I go any further I just wanted to take a second to thank our military men and women for their service to our country. You're our heroes!

Anyway, because it's Veteran's Day, I have off from work today. Which means that I got to sleep in and also take my time getting ready for things, since I don't really have any schedule today. And in the life of a full-time working mommy of a toddler, this means that I had the chance to actually wash my hair for the first time in days.

Yeah, I know it's gross, but I've found that the longer my hair is, the longer I can stretch the time out between washings. Just pull it up into a bun or in a clip or in a ponytail, and nobody knows the difference. I am supremely lazy and would much prefer that extra 20 minutes of sleep in the morning.

But today I decided to take advantage of the extra time in the shower. I'm 36 weeks pregnant at the moment, so pretty much everything on my body aches on a constant basis. (Mind you, I'm not complaining. I'm thrilled to have made it to 36 weeks! My toddler was born at 34 weeks.)

Anyway, I decided to let the water massage my back and while I did so, I looked around for some reading material. Since I was in the shower, all that was available were the shampoo bottles.

Yeah, I was that desperate.

So I'm reading the instructions and came across that cliche: Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Have you ever stopped to think about those instructions? It's like a perpetual circle.
Step 1: Lather
Step 2: Rinse
Step 3: Repeat

OK, so I go back to Step 1 and lather again. Then Step 2 tells me to rinse. And then I'm back to Step 3, so I have to repeat. And now I'm back to the beginning.

When exactly are you supposed to stop? How many times are you supposed to repeat?

And who actually has the time anyway to repeat? I know I sure don't.

Speaking of not having time, since I figure I could basically have this kiddo at any point now, I've scheduled some fabulous guest bloggers for the next couple of months while I go on maternity leave. I hope you'll enjoy them!

Happy SAFE Halloween

You may notice that this blog is LATE. Like, very LATE. There's really no good excuse for that, but here goes.

See, my almost 2-year-old daughter had an allergic reaction today. We're not 100% sure to what, but we're working under the assumption that it was the sesame seeds on her bread at lunch.

All it said on the menu at daycare was "wheat bread." It's never once said "sesame seed bread" but when I got there to pick her up after her teacher called to say she'd broken out in hives and was acting clingy (her eyes were all puffy and swollen and were just little slits), I noticed that there were seeds on the bread.

She's very, very allergic to tree nuts (life-threatening anaphylactic reaction), and mildly allergic to eggs. Sesame seeds actually did show in her bloodwork report at a very low level on the RAST scale, but her allergist said she'd never seen a true sesame seed allergy in all her years in private practice, so we shouldn't worry about it.

Well, apparently even if it's rare, you can in fact have a sesame seed allergy. And she has one. Relatively mild (thank God!) since we didn't need to break out her EpiPen and it resolved itself with Benadryl, but still.

If you've read my novel, Codename: Dancer, you know that my heroine Dani has a dangerous peanut allergy. I actually wrote this long before I ever knew that my daughter was allergic to tree nuts, so this is now a very personal subject for me.

So yeah, that was my excitement for the day, and why this post is late. Which brings me to my next point.

HALLOWEEN. Did you know that many of the most popular commercially-made Halloween candies are actually manufactured on the same equipment (and in the same facility) that processes nuts, even if the particular candy in question does not contain nuts?

It's true. For example, I'm sitting here staring at a bag of snack-size Hershey's Milk Chocolate bars. The ingredients are milk chocolate consisting of sugar, milk, chocolate, cocoa butter, lactose, milk fat, soy lechithin, emulsifier, and vanillin. No nuts, right?

Well, even if it doesn't contain nuts, it's still not safe for my daughter or any other tree nut-allergic child to eat because it was processed on the same equipment that processes ALMONDS. It says this on the label on the bag itself, but not on any of the individual wrappers, so it would be very easy for a kid to eat it and not know, and and spend the end of a happy holiday in the hospital.

Same with plain M&M's. I'm not talking about the peanut ones or the peanut butter ones. Just the plain ol' regular ones. In Canada, M&M/Mars processes plain M&M's in a safe facility, but not so in the US. Plain M&M's are processed on the same equipment that processes peanuts and tree nuts.

This is a recipe for cross-contamination.

In recent years, with the rise in food allergies making the news, many people have decided to add a nut-free option to their Halloween candy bowl. But even if you're trying to do the right thing, your supposedly safe candy might actually NOT be safe after all. According to the Food Allergy & Anaphylaxis Network (FAAN), the only commercially-available chocolate candy to be 100% safe for tree-nut allergic and peanut-allergic children is Dove.

Halloween should be a time of fun and excitement for kids. They shouldn't have to worry about not being able to breathe after eating candy that was processed on equipment that processes nuts. So I urge you to please consider some totally nut-free SAFE options in your bowl, such as Skittles, Smarties, or even pretzels. (But please check the bag to make sure the pretzels were not processed on nut-contaminated equipment. Snyders is a safe brand, and they have tiny individual snack bags perfect for Halloween. Some of the other brands are not safe.)

Happy Halloween!

Do you live in the DC area?

I'm one of the panelists at the Teen Early Reads kick-off party tonight at the Rockville Memorial Library, located at 21 Maryland Avenue, Rockville, MD. YA authors Diana Peterfreund, Stephanie Dray, and Alethea Kontis will also be there.

If you're in the DC area, come stop by and say hi! There will be food, books, and fun!

Wrong...just wrong.

Have you seen the trailer for the long-anticipated One For the Money movie, coming in January? What do you think?

Katherine Heigl? As Stephanie Plum? WHAAAA?

Seriously, what were the producers thinking when they casted this thing? I guess Heigl is a decent enough actress, but she is most definitely NOT the wise-cracking, down-to-earth Jersey Girl accidental-bailbondswoman written by Janet Evanovich. It really begs the question -- did anyone involved with this film even read the books?

Yes, I'm going to see it. (Well, maybe. It's due to release about a month after my son is born, so it's entirely possible any free time I get I'll just want to sleep instead of going to the movies. So I might have to wait until it hits DVD.)

And I really hope they don't ruin one of my favorite book franchises. (Although I admit I've been less excited about the misadventures of that ever-populr Stephanie-Morelli-Ranger love-triangle in the last few books, as it becomes more and more clear that they're headed towards no resoution whatsoever, despite Book #18 coming out in November. But the first ten or so were sheer comic gold!) But with Katherine Heigl as Stephanie, I just can't wonder what else they did to massacre the book.

Had they made this movie 10 years ago (the original book was released in 1994), Sandra Bullock would have been the ideal Stephanie Plum. Or even Marisa Tomei. But of course, it was filmed in 2011, not 2000, and they're both too old for Stephanie now.

So who would have been a better choice today? Anyone, really. Amanda Peet could have been good. Even Anne Hathaway would be a more believable Stephanie. But frankly, I think an unknown might have been a fantastic choice. Assuming they followed the Evanovich manuscript closely, the script would have been strong enough even without a household name.

But seriously...anyone but Katherine Heigl.

Let's have a look at the rest of the cast. Jason O'Mara as Joe Morelli? I loved O'Mara in Life On Mars, but who casts an Irishman as a stereotypical Italian-American cop?

Daniel Sunjata as Ranger? OK, this one I can live with. Sunjata is definitely H-O-T, although I do have a bit of a problem with the producers just expecting us to conveniently forget that Ranger is supposed to be Cuban, not half-African-American. But I'll give them a pass on this one.

Debbie Reynolds as Grandma Mazur? The jury is out on this one. I bet she'll be funny, but she just seems, I don't know, too pretty to play this wacky Italian/Hungarian matriarch with a penchant for open casket funerals. (Wouldn't Betty White have been amazing?)

I must admit that Sheri Shepherd as Lula is a pretty darn good choice. At least they did something right.

So what do you think of the trailer? The casting choices? Are you going to see it?

The Sunfire Series

A couple of days ago on the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood loop, a bunch of us were talking about the first romances we ever read. I will admit I can't remember what the first adult romance I read was, but for some reason, this whole discussion made me remember this fabulous historical romance YA series called "Sunfire."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sunfire_%28series%29

I'd actually forgotten it was a YA series, but authors Vivi Andrews, Addison Fox, and Liz Bemis set me straight. The email thread turned into one big reminiscence as we all named our favorite heroine (mine was Heather, the spunky New York Colonial girl from 1665, but I also really enjoyed the book set during the San Francisco earthquake about a girl named Nora).

The premise of the series was simple. The series was written by a group of authors. Each book featured a teenage girl who was present during a particular notable historical event. She was always torn between two potential suitors, and the book cover were total spoilers...once you knew the pattern. The cover would feature the heroine flanked by both guys, and the one she was smiling lovingly at (or even touching) was always the one she gave the boot to in the end. The true hero of the love triangle was always brooding in the background on the cover, yet for some reason I was always surprised. (Maybe because I was only 10 or 11 at the time while reading these. I hadn't read Pride & Prejudice yet.)

The titles were exceptionally clever: Amanda, Susannah, Elizabeth, Danielle, etc. ;) Considering as both my first name and middle name were both used as titles, can you guess why my mom originally bought me my first one? And I was immediately hooked. A romance reader for life!

I mean, really, how could you resist a book with this premise:
With only a silk dress to protect her from the blazing frontier sun, Amanda fears she will die on the Oregon Trail. As the memories of Boston, the nightly balls, and Joseph fade, the hardships of life on the wagon train fill her days. Changing from a spoiled city girl to a strong young woman, Amanda finds drought and death, beauty and joy, and a love that will last forever.

Between the "Sunfire" series, the "Satin Slipper" series (about teenage ballet students at the San Francisco ballet academy) and Sweet Valley High, I was definitely hooked on 1980s YA romance. :)

Anyway, Liz Bemis noticed that although the series has been out of print since the 80s, apparently you can still find used copies on Amazon. So I am proud to say that sometime next week I will be devouring the Sunfire series once again! I hope they're just as good nearly 25 years later. :)

Do you have a favorite YA series from your youth that is out of print now, but you have a yearning to re-read? What was the first romance, either YA or adult, that you ever read?

First Author Talk and Booksigning!

I'm on vacation in Hilton Head right now, enjoying some lovely beach weather (a nice change from the earthquake and hurricane I experienced last week).

My toddler seems to like the beach, too, although she's way too much of a diva to allow me to take her flip flops off. Little princess refuses to let the sand touch her precious toes. It's pretty hilarious.

Anyway, ever the multi-tasker, I decided to combine a little work with pleasure, and arranged to give a talk to teens at the Hilton Head Library last night.



I wasn't sure what to expect, since I've never done one of these things before. I've spoken to adults about copyright and trademark law on numerous occasions, but I've never done an author talk to teenagers. And with the aforementioned earthquake and hurricane last week, I didn't get a chance to publicize the talk as much as I would have liked, so I walked into the library last night fearing my audience would consist of my mom and grandma.

Fortunately there was a nice cozy crowd of teens from the Hilton Head Library Teen Board. This group meets monthly to organize book-related activities (they're in the middle of planning a murder mystery night for later this fall), so I knew I'd found the right audience.

The kids had tons of questions for me. Admittedly, most were not actually about the book itself, but more about being an author and what it takes to get a book published. We talked about teen fiction in general, high school English class assignments, publishing, and writing. Lots of fun!

Of course, my daughter was in the next room over, and we could hear her screaming "No! Mine!" every time the Blue's Clues DVD ended. (Apparently she didn't think her daddy was fast enough at putting in a new one.) But that just added to the ambience.

When I got back to the beach house last night, I discovered an invitation over email to a Teen Book Party at the Montgomery County Library (Maryland), so I look forward to doing more of these events!

What a deal!

Here I was, under the very mistaken illusion that the $2 discount on my e-book on Amazon was a great deal. 67% off!

Apparently Daily Cheap Reads, Jr. Edition thought so, too, since they featured it yesterday:
http://dailycheapreads.com/junior/2011/08/18/codename-dancer-a-dani-spevak-mystery-for-tweens-and-teens-99-cents/

But alas, $2 off is nothing. $2? Pshaw. I have now seen the light, and want to just say a big giant "thank you" to Amazon for giving us a $1558 discount on a Kindle book.

OK, granted, it's only 20% off, which isn't all that impressive as a percentage of the list price, but still, keeping the price well under $7000 was a brilliant move on Amazon's part. You can see exactly why they're the leading online book retailer. And it sure beats the alternative of coughing up the roughly $40,000 per year for four years to get a degree at MIT.

So just in case anyone has been putting off getting their own copy of "Nuclear Energy," here's your chance! The Kindle edition is currently on sale for the low, low price of just $6,232! I'm surprised Paula at Daily Cheap Reads hasn't picked up on this mega sale!!!

http://www.amazon.com/Nuclear-Energy-ebook/dp/B001C2TPWO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1313216094&sr=1-1&tag=vglnk-c1533-20

In all seriousness though, check out the "reviews." HILARIOUS!

But please don't try to sample this book. I wouldn't want you to hit "one click" by mistake. If I did that and Mr. Brice found out, you better believe it would be a nuclear disaster in my house sure to lead to WWIII.

Genre 101

As you probably already know, I'm a big fan of the indie publishing movement. That's not to say I don't read traditionally-published books -- in fact, I read way more trad books than indie books -- or that I don't ever want a traditional contract. But I really like the freedom that authors are experiencing and the ability to control their product and profits.

It's also exciting as a reader, because backlist is coming back, and you're starting to see books that NY wouldn't take a chance on, even if they're really good books.

Of course, with the good also comes the bad. It's not secret that some indie books are, how shall I put this diplomatically? A bit lacking in the editorial department. Many indie authors hire freelance editors (often these are NY editors moonlighting on the side), but some simply finish typing THE END and then put it up without running it through a second (or third, or fourth) set of eyes.

I'm not going to go into the blunders of poor editing, because that has been rehashed countless times before. Today I'm going to vent about something different, but still related to the issue of losing the gatekeepers: not classifying your book properly.

Nearly once a week, I have to explain to writers on Kindleboards.com what exactly constitutes "romance fiction." Seems lots of people want to call their book a romance (because that's a hot-selling genre) simply because their main characters have sex at some point in the book. I (and the other RWA members and romance fans) explain that for a novel to be considered a "romance," it must contain two basic elements: a central love story and an emotionally-satisfying and optimistic ending.

From the RWA website:

A Central Love Story: The main plot centers around two individuals falling in love and struggling to make the relationship work. A writer can include as many subplots as he/she wants as long as the love story is the main focus of the novel.

An Emotionally-Satisfying and Optimistic Ending: In a romance, the lovers who risk and struggle for each other and their relationship are rewarded with emotional justice and unconditional love.

If your book does not have these two elements, it is not a romance novel. Period. It may or may not contain strong romantic elements (for example, my book Codename: Dancer would be categorized as a YA mystery with romantic elements -- the romance is a subplot that will follow the arc of the entire series and will not be resolved until the end of the series, but the mystery is what is primary in each book).



Another genre that some authors seem to have trouble defining is the Legal Thriller. I read a blurb yesterday for a book that the author (a lawyer in his day job) was touting as a legal thriller, but to me, the description just read as a novel where the main character just so happened to be a lawyer. Now, admittedly, he was having some trouble with his blurb, so it's entirely possible he didn't get the full premise across.

But that's a pet peeve of mine. Just because your book may have suspense elements and the main characters are lawyers, that doesn't make it a legal thriller. Don't call something a legal thriller simply because "thrillers" are hot on Kindle.

A legal thriller is a sub-genre of thriller and crime fiction in which the major characters are lawyers and their employees. It may or may not focus on a courtroom battele, but the justice system itself is always a major part of these books. In fact, one could almost argue that the law almost functions as one of the characters. The legal system provides the framework for the legal thriller in the same way that the the system of modern police work does for the police procedural. (You wouldn't call a novel a police procedural simply because the main character is a cop, would you?)

So what about you? Have you seen any books that you feel are improperly classified lately? Or have you read any books you just want to rave about?

What are you reading?

Since I mentioned Codename, I feel like giving away an e-book copy. Just a comment and you'll be entered to win! I'll draw the winner Sunday night, at 6 pm EST.

What To Expect...

Right after I let her in on some good news the other day (which I'll share on the blog ASAP, as soon as it's 100% official), my friend Ann said something like "I'd be peeing myself if I were you! And not because of weak pelvic floor muscles, either."

OK, that made me laugh. Thankfully I didn't leak any pee, even though I do have those weak pelvic floor muscles she was talking about. And it's a good thing I didn't because it would have made my diaper rash even worse.

Say whaaaaat?

Yup. I'm in my mid-30s, and I currently have diaper rash. My internal furnace combined with rapidly increasing thighs causes friction in the worst possible places. And the only thing helping is actually slathering myself up with the super-high zinc ointment diaper cream that I keep in my toddler's nursery.

Ah, yes, the beauty bonuses of pregnancy just keep on coming...

(Yes, this is an overshare. Deal with it.)

It's supposed to get to something ridiculous like 105 here today in DC. Now, when I used to live in Arizona, 105 was nothing. 105 was the weather we'd get in October. But 105 in Arizona is NOTHING like 105 in DC, I promise you. It's not just a cliche when they say "But it's a dry heat!" about the desert.

In 105 degrees in Arizona, you step outside and it feels like 10 hair dryers pointed at you. A blast of hot air, but you can take it for the short walk from your air conditioned house to your air conditioned car to your air conditioned office. It may be slightly uncomfortable as you reach for your bottle of water to quench your thirst, but it's entirely possible not to even break a sweat.

In DC, well, first of all, you're probably not taking your air conditioned car to work since parking costs like a gazillion dollars and traffic is so bad, so you get to suffer the long walk from your air conditioned house to the Metro station, then enjoy the stop-and-go trip packed in like those business men in those Japanese pod hotels with hundreds of other commuters (not to mention the crazy tourists with the SUV-sized strollers in the middle of rush hour -- come on, people! You're on vacay, sleep in!), only to melt when you get back out for the walk from the station to your air conditioned office.

In DC, 105 degrees feels more like you're drowning in a swamp. Which isn't really so far from the truth, considering as the nation's capitol actually was built on a swamp back in the day. But seriously, the humidity is so bad that the second you step outside, you feel like the Wicked Witch of the West when Dorothy pours water on her. (Which, incidentally, I've never quite understood...why does water cause her to melt? But I digress...)

With the ridiculous heat today, it would be the perfect time to just go nekkid, but unfortunately I have that thing called a day job to go to, and I don't think that would be very appropriate. So a sleeveless dress and diaper cream it is.


Hmmm...maybe it's time for me to get back to writing that cozy mystery about an 8-month pregnant sleuth that I was working on a few months ago. I definitely have some new funny moments in mind for her.

I get my body back in 4 months...but who's counting?

~ "Baby Face" Brice

Am I ambitious, or just insane?

A week ago I returned from a lovely week in NYC at the RWA National Conference, where I had the delight of running into fellow Killers Diane Kelly, Christie Craig, and Robin Kaye.



As always, I run myself ragged at these events, traipsing all over the city going to parties, not to mention trying to catch as many workshops at the actual conference itself as possible. And you can't forget all the "downtime" (where you're actually still "on" because you're networking) at the bar.

I even managed to squeeze in some time to take in a Broadway show, and got to see my old dance school pal Cara Cooper in "Jersey Boys!"



But despite the grueling schedule, I still come away reenergized and excited. Excited to dive into the next manuscript, excited about all the new ideas I have, and excited to connect with my favorite authors and online buddies. Oh, and of course, excited for next year!

And next year definitely should be fun. RWA is heading to Anaheim for a Disneyland extravaganza! I've got a toddler, so should be perfect, right?

Except that I'll also have a 7-month-old. Am I insane for even considering this idea?

I'm a Killer

And I don't just mean this blog.

No seriously, though, I seem to be a Celebrity Killer. Beware all ye celebrities who I namedrop into a manuscript.

Famous people who I refer to into various stories of mine have this really unfortunate habit of dying on me. First it was Heath Ledger, then Natasha Richardson, then Brittany Murphy.

My most recent "kills" have been Elizabeth Taylor and just a couple of weeks ago, basketball player Robert "Tractor" Traylor.

This is really getting sort of freaky. So Katy Perry and Snooki, seriously ladies...be careful out there. I hereby apologize in advance for having namedropped you both on Page 1 of Codename: Dancer. I didn't realize what I was doing at the time!

It's BACK!

I had a whole post planned for today, but I think I'm going to just put it off until next time.

As you know or may not know, Blogger went down at some point yesterday and just came back online a few minutes ago. I have to admit, this has made me an extremely antsy girl. I've been trying since late last night to post today's blog, and getting very twitchy indeed when it wouldn't let me in.

"But, but" -- I sputtered -- "I have blogs! And guest blogs!"

I'm supposed to be the guest blogger today over at Reader Girls (http://www.readergirls.blogspot.com) to promote Codename: Dancer, but considering as yesterday's guest blogger never got featured either, who knows what's going to happen. Actually, it appears that yesterday's guest blogger is being run today, so hopefully mine will be tomorrow? *shrugs*

I can't really complain, of course. Free promo is free promo, whenever it occurs. But it's really amusing how dependent we become on the Interwebz.

Our forums go down -- ACK!
Facebook goes down -- What are we going to do?
Twitter goes down -- Oh no!!!!!!

(OK, that last one doesn't apply to me, since I have an irrational fear of Twitter, but you know what I mean.)

What internet programs/websites/social media have you become dependent on?