Gemma’s Hollywood Adventure

I've spent last week bopping around L.A., pitching a TV pilot script based on one of my books and signing at the big huge Book Expo America convention. So much fun! Here’s the recap of my trip:

Day 1:
Drove down to L.A. and pulled up to my hotel holding my breath. I’d booked it online through one of those discount travel sites, so I had no idea what I was getting into. But it's just a couple blocks from Rodeo Drive, so can't bee too bad, right? Oh. My. God. Gorgeous! I truly felt like I had arrived in Beverly Hills. Posh glass doors, smartly dress doorman, bubbling fountains, huge suite, private hot tub, chocolates on my pillow… I could so get used to this.

After unpacking, my manager picked me up to go to my first meeting in Hollywood. Unfortunately, the traffic was horrendous, every street below Sunset at a standstill. Finally we figured out why - it was the night of the Sex and the City movie premier. (How cool! I was in Sex and the City traffic!) Once we finally made it to the restaurant, this uber chic artsy place surrounded by trees and fountains, I had dinner with my manager, a producer, and this woman with an amazing true story that they wanted to develop a TV series around. Let me tell you, she was a crack up! We had such a good time, and I’m really excited about the project. Very chick litty but with a cool, edgy new twist. Can’t wait to get started.

Day 2:
Woke up early and my lovely manager came to pick me up and take me on a whirlwind day of non-stop meetings.

First up was a visit to a big agency. And when I say big, I mean holy-crap-that-whole-freakin-building-belongs-to-them big. Just slightly intimidating. We valet the car, walk in and there’s a reception desk with, not one, but three polished looking receptionists with headset things, who told us to have a seat and they’d let the agent know I was there. So, we cross the marble floor to the marble staircase and sit on one of the sofas in front of the marble tables and watch this modern art projection piece on the marble wall. (See a decorating trend here?) I’m trying not to get dizzy watching the projection art thingie, when my manager nudges me in the arm. I look up. This really hot guy has just walked into the reception room to wait. I stare. And realize I recognize that hot guy. It’s Matthew McConaughey! I try really hard not to pull out my cell phone and take squealy fan-girl pictures of him. (P.S. He is just as gorgeous in person. Tan, blonde, cut, that lopsided adorable smile… crap, I’m drooling again.)

After the agency, we head to a couple of meetings with network and producer types where I feel so incredibly cool that we’re “on the list” to get on the studio lots. These studios are all over town, so we’re driving back and forth through L.A. traffic all day. Let me tell you, there is no better place to people watch. My list of “only in L.A.” sightings:
A hummer parked on someone’s front lawn (at least it wasn’t on cinderblocks)
A billboard for where to buy marijuana (Seriously. With an 800 number and everything.)
A long haired guy in silk robes and love beads sitting on the front lawn of an apartment building, meditating in a cross-legged position… with a cup of Starbucks next to him.
Gotta love this town.

After my meetings, I was beat. I met a friend, mystery author Jon Hargrove, for enchiladas and much needed margaritas at a hot Mexican place in Beverly Hills. We had a great time watching the Lakers come from behind to semi-final victory. (Go Kobe!)

Day 3:
Started the day off with a network meeting, then headed out to the convention center downtown for the Book Expo America, a HUGE book fair. Every kind of book or book gadget you can imagine on display. Tons of free books for the taking everywhere you turn. I was in heaven. I signed copies of ALIBI IN HIGH HEELS at the Dorchester booth, along with fab authors C.L. Wilson and Jennifer Ashley. Some incredibly brilliant person at Dorchester decided it would be a good idea to serve wine during the signing, and we just had a blast! It was so much fun meeting all the booksellers and wonderful to meet some of the Dorchester sales force for the first time.

From the Expo, I jetted out to one last TV agent meeting in Beverly Hills, then over to Chinatown for dinner with my Dorchester peeps. Round trip total miles: 20. Time to travel it: 2 hours. Serious traffic. The homeless guy with the shopping cart on the side of the road was moving faster than I was. No joke.

Day 4t:
After three days of non-stop meetings, I’m ready for a break. I meet up with some of my fun L.A. author friends – Eden Bradley, Shante' Lanay , and Dana Belfry – and we head to Venice Beach for a day of sangrias and people watching. It was an experience to be sure. Some really neat jewelry vendors and funky little boutiques, but the highlight by far was the locals. Some of my favs:



Punk with a pink tricycle (we waited around to see if he would ride it… he never did. Very Disappointing.)
The King of Muscle Beach (Flex for me darling!)
The famous roller skating turban wearing, guitar playing Venice Beach guy!


Day 5:
I pack up and say goodbye to my movie star hotel and drive back to the Expo. I get there right as it opens. Because today, I’m on a mission. There are free books inside, I’ve got a huge trunk in my car - you do the math. I grab two tote bags and scour the booths, filling both so full that I’m about to topple over. (Okay, at one point I did topple over as I reached for a book on the floor. But no one needs to know that…) I drop those books at the car, then race back in for more. At the end of the day, I have six tote bags stuffed to the brim with books. I’m a little giddy. I go back inside one last time to sign books at the RWA booth (which is set up to look like an adorable little Italian café!) with the lovely and talented Miss Sylvia Day. Then, I pack myself up into my car and head out of town (at a crawl, because, of course, there’s traffic).

Day 6:
My arms/shoulders/back are so sore from carrying pilfered books I can’t even lift my arms to my keyboard. Oy. Need a chiropractor pronto. But so worth it for all the great books. Hmm… maybe I’ll just take the day off and read instead…

So, how was your week?


~Trigger Happy Halliday

Blondes have more...moments.

Can we talk?

Okay. What I really mean is ‘MAY I VENT?’

Readers often ask me, “Is there any of you in Tressa Jayne Turner?” Confession time. More of me than I care to admit at times, that’s for sure. The most recent example of Bullet Hole’s ‘blonde’ moments came last night. You see, in order to finish my Criminal Justice degree, I need a Science credit with a lab or an upper level Math class. Not being mathematically gifted, I decide to go the Science route and I find a Field Ecology class which meets two nights a week with ‘field labs’.

I’m thinking that while biomes don’t particularly trip my trigger, I enjoy flora and fauna as much as the next person. I believe in conservation. (Plus I sure as heck didn’t want to take Trigonometry as the alternative credit to finish my degree.) I’ll do it! I decided.

Well, last night was our first ‘field observation’. I’d done the prep work. I had my little field lab notebook, pencils for drawing, jeans and sturdy shoes. I was prepared to sit and make cute drawings of birds and trees and plants and fungi to my heart’s content. And the blonde moment, you wonder? That came when I doused myself with vanilla butter crème body splash just before I headed out the door for my adventure in the wild. And the end result? It was like ringing the dinner bell for mosquitoes in the next county. I was a freaking mosquito magnet! I got more mosquito guts on my field observation notebook than observations as I swatted at swarms of buzzing insects around my ears and scratched at red welts.

For our first observation we were supposed to come up with five organisms, five probing questions and five hypotheses to go along with each question.

My organisms included: mosquitoes (naturally), red ants, poison oak, a squirrel, and a giant raccoon who lumbered out of the tall grass and scared the crap out of me as I was trying to escape the wooded area and hoofing it towards a dormant cornfield.

My most salient question?

‘Why hadn’t I doused myself with Deet instead of vanilla????’

My hypothesis?

‘Blonde moments will still occur even when those tresses are chemically treated and enhanced.’

So. What’s was your latest ‘blonde moment’? What really dumb stunt have you pulled lately? Maybe next week I’ll tell you about spilling coffee down the front of my new white jacket---and not realizing it was there until after I left the doctor’s office. Or how I managed to get the shirt UNDERNEATH the jacket stained, as well. Or how I managed to get coffee on the BACK of the jacket collar.
Right.

~Bullet Hole Bacus~

Leslie Langtry - Army of One

GOOD MORNING, MR. PHELPS...Your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is;
I’m going to be adding a fun new page to my website, Langtry’s Larcenist Lines. I thought it would be lots of fun to let you, my adoring fans, suggest a scene from Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy from a secondary character’s point of view. Was there something you thought I should have added, a scene you felt I didn’t elaborate on enough, something you’re dying to know? Suggest it! To make it even more fun I’m going to let you decide which secondary characters tells the scene. Who’s voice would you like to hear? Romi’s, Carolina’s, Uncle Lou or Grandma Mary? You decide!

Here’s how this will work:
Email your suggestion to: AuthorLeslieLangtry@gmail.com. Include the scene you would like and the secondary character you would like to tell the scene. Both the scene and the character must be from my first book, ‘Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy. You have two weeks to send in your suggestion. On June 18 we’ll provide a list of the suggestions and let everyone vote for their favorite. Voting will last two weeks, until June 30.

WE NOW RETURN YOU TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED BLOG...

For some people, turning 40 means stepping back, reflecting on your life, relaxing, taking time to stop and smell the roses.

Apparently, I didn't get the memo. You can't see it because mud dries lighter than it is when originally rolled in and the bruises haven't begun to turn the colors of a tequila sunrise, but I had a rough day yesterday. Hell, I've had a rough month. Now, when I say rough, I don't mean it in a bad way. I mean rough as in rugged.

In the last two weeks alone, I've learned how to swamp a canoe and rescue those who've been swamped; camped for a weekend, thrown 20 girls down a zipline in the forrest; fired a black powder musket and yesterday I ran an obstacle course that would've made a Marine proud.

When Leslie turns 40, she apparently means cram all the activity she hasn't done in 40 years into one month. Some people buy a Mustang convertible for their mid-life crisis. Apparently, I try to kill myself.

Still, if offers me some perspective. Yesterday was Ropes Course training day at Girl Scout camp and I managed to clear an 8ft. high wall, make it through a tire suspended 3 feet over the ground without touching said tire, swung on a rope across an imaginary canyon, tightrope-walk a thin metal cable in hiking boots - all done in the rain and mud.

And I couldn't be prouder.

This may be because my alfredo-clogged arteries didn't rise up and smite me with a heart attack, or because when I was 20 I didn't even do these things.

Someone told me last weekend that in a family, if the mother is into outdoors activities, the girls are 80% likely to love the outdoors as well. But if only the father is an outdoorsman, girls in the family are only 20% likely to be active outdoors. In my family, both parents thought "roughing it" was staying at a hotel with an outdoor pool. So, I didn't do stuff like that.

Obviously, this is my mid-life rebellion. And I couldn't be happier. I look at it as a sort of sadistic spa treatment. After all, the work-out is like a hardcore Swedish massage and all that mud is probably good for my skin. Right?

In retrospect, I probably should've paced myself. Doing all of the above in less than a month is pretty exhausting. On the other hand, by some miracle worthy of any religion, I survived. Surely that's worth something. Isn't it?

"The Assassin"

Winner, Winner, Winner

WINNER:

Flchen1, you are the winner of June 3rd's contest.
Please email me your home addy at my website email address: christie@christie-craig.com .

Thanks everyone for posting.

Crime Scene Christie


The winner for last week's blog is Pearl.

Pearl, would you please send me your home addy at my website email address and I'll get you your goodies.

I'll post today's winner tomorrow morning.

Thank you everyone for playing with us here at Killer Fiction. Keep those posts coming.

Crime Scene Christie

Laughter, Friendship & Purple Penis Envy

I know, I know, I used the “P” word. I can see my grandma in Heaven looking down at me, doing her famous finger wave and saying, “Young lady, you take that back right now.”

First, I’d tell grandma, “I can’t take it back, because I was one of the envious ones and not the receiver of the purple penis.” Second, I’d tell her, and ya’ll too, “Bear with me, give me just a little lead way here.”

Why?

Because this is truly a wonderful and heart-felt story, but I couldn’t tell the story without using the “P” word, because well, the purple penis and the envy is part of the story.

Let me start at the beginning. (I know, some of you are probably wanting me to jump right to the purple penis, but nope, you gotta hear the whole story.)

I have these friends—there are four of us. We’re all writers, varying ages, all young at heart, but all of us have racked up enough years to remember Elvis. And one of us is old enough to have actually dated him.

We come together once a month for a revival of life. While we do some critiquing, we are mainly a support group. To protect the guilty, I won’t mention names, but Suzan, Jody and Nancy know who they are.

Anyway, we meet at Paneras, a happening restaurant with Wi-fi, good food, and staff and clientele who tolerate us when we get loud. And yeah, that happens more times than not.

We don’t have a lot of rules. Well except one, “What happens in Paneras stays in Paneras.” I apologize profusely for breaking that one rule, but the purple penis story is just too good not to share. Besides, this is just with you guys, right?

So, we came together a couple of weeks ago. And as it is in life, we all bring with us our celebrations, i.e.: a new contract, a new outfit, a husband who finally found the spot (I’m talking about the spot on the floor) anyway, we all love to celebrate the good stuff. And in case you are wondering, there’s no alcohol beverages served. But only because it’s too early.

With four of us, that means we have eight shoulders, and if anyone needs one to cry on, or whine on, there’s always one available. Of course, we won’t let anyone wallow too long, life’s too short.

Some weeks we spend our whining time commiserating about how a two-pound cheesecake can pack on five pounds. We whimper a bit about teenagers being teenagers and how we wish we were like other mammals and just ate our young when we had the chance. We may momentarily mutter bad things about deadlines biting us in the butt, and spend a few short seconds moaning about doggy diarrhea. (Hey, there’s nothing we can’t talk about.)

But sometimes life throws us the crappier problems, (yeah, crappier than doggy diarrhea) and this last month, there must have been some clearance sale on crap because there seems to have been a lot to go around.

Things such as a recent loss of a parent, family issues, dying pets, job transfers out of state, health problems, and health problems of a spouse. The kind of problems that if one isn’t careful, can rob you of your joy.

Thank goodness we’re careful. Thank goodness we have each other. And for that particular day, thank goodness for the purple penis.

So imagine us, arriving at the restaurant--hearts a little heavier than usual. Suzan starts pulling out these really nice Hallmark gift boxes—keepsake type of boxes—from a bag.

“These are for you guys. Just because I appreciate all you do.”

Now, we all love gifts, but surprise gifts are the best. She hands us each our specific box. And we start opening them. Inside my box is lots of tissue, beneath I find a Willow Tree statue of an angel that I collect, and a leather bookmark. I love it! I watch Nancy open hers; she has journal books, a nice pen, as well as a bookmark. Then Jody opens her box, unfolds the tissue, and she pulls out a purple object. She holds it up in the middle of the table as we all try to wrap our minds around what it is. I mean, I had an angel and she had . . .

My mouth drops open.

Nancy just gapes.

Jody continues to stare.

Suzan . . . Suzan waits. Yeah, she knows what will happen . . . eventually.

I see in Jody’s eyes the exact second when she realizes that she’s holding a purple vibrator up in the middle of a booth in a crowded restaurant.

Her eyes grow round as quarters; her mouth goes a little slack. She throws the penis back in her box. And slams the lid down.
And Nancy and I do what I’m sure all of you would have done.

We immediately start digging around in our boxes, removing tissue, searching to see if we’d missed our own penises.

Yup, Nancy and I have a serious case of purple penis envy. Jody continues to hold her hand on the top, it almost looks as if she’s afraid the thing might try to escape, but in reality, we all know what’s going on. She’s afraid we’ll take it from her.

Hey, we couldn’t help it. It was a really nice penis. I personally think a couple of men sitting at the next table had penis envy. Yeah, we were getting quite a few looks.

Then Suzan, managing to hold a straight face, says to Jody, “Remember the time we were looking at the erotica basket at conference and you whined that you’d never had a purple penis? Well, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t afford to buy you the 12-inch, but it has adjustable speeds.”

That’s when it happened.

We all lose it and start to laugh, not the snickering, or proper lady-like kind of laughs, but those deep laughs that come straight from your toes.

We laugh until several of us have tears in our eyes.

We laugh until all the heavy burdens in our lives seem less like insurmountable burdens and more like things we can and will overcome.

And we stayed at that restaurant for almost four hours reveling in each other’s company.

You know, in this life we’ll all stumble across tough times, but those times can be a lot easier to deal with if you have friendships, laughter, and sometimes even a purple penis.

Today, because June is my release month, I’m giving away . . . no, I’m not giving away a purple penis, I’m giving away another Sexy, Suspenseful and Seriously Funny Tee-shirt, and a pack of note cards to one lucky poster. So take the time to post, tell me about a funny time you shared with your girlfriends, or tell me if you’ve seen Weddings Can Be Murder in a book store.

Oh, pop over to http://novelthoughts.wordpress.com to read another very funny post about my hubby. They are holding a contest too.

Crime Scene Christie

Your Competition As A Writer

Ever since the advent of pc's and the drop in cost so that everyone can own one, many, many people have decided they can write books. After all, there's spell check, right? I am not usually a huge joke sharer, but I received this last week and couldn't figure it out then when I read the "punch line" I laughed until I cried. So take a look at the picture and see if you can figure out what happened during this conversation. And remember, for all you aspiring writers out there, this is your competition. :)

Keep in mind this actually did happen. This is someone who was moving from an insurance claims office. (Study the picture, then read the text below it for the big revealing)

Did you figure it out??????? No. Well, here's one person's interpretation of the events that transpired to create such a monstrosity. Warning - Spew Alert!

Walmart Employee: Hello 'dis be Walmarts, how can I help you?

Customer: I would like to order a cake for a going away party this week.

Walmart Employee: What you want on the cake?

Customer: "Best Wishes Suzanne" and underneath that "We will miss you."


Have you stopped laughing yet? Can you breathe? Did you remember to put down your soda?

Deadly DeLeon

Duck and cover

This week I went on date #2 with The Firefighter. Fabulous. I would swear he got even hotter. And the requisite getting-to-know-you stuff is actually kind of fun with him, instead of the tedious chore it’s been with other guys. I learned he likes to listen to Sinatra (I love oldies!), just bought a new freezer for his martini bar (He has a martini bar in his house. Be still my beating heart.) and – this was the clincher – loves to shop at DSW (a.k.a. my shoe mecca). Yeah, you heard me right. A hot fireman that likes to browse shoe stores. Oh. My. God. Seriously he’s so cool, I’m waiting for the secret child or deranged ex-wife to pop out of his past any second.

So, to celebrate great date #2 (a rarely see but often fantasized about phenomenon) Mom and I decided to go to the mall. Ever since Mom put up her snakier than snark online dating profile, she’s been my idol. So after a good twenty minutes of me gushing in a giddy post-date haze, I asked how her dating life is faring.

“Ahn.” She shrugs.
“Hmm. Just ahn?”
“Well, okay, there is this one guy…”
So, I drag out of her that she’s met a retired former Navy captain. The first date went okay and he’s asked her out on a second for this weekend. “But,” she says, “he wants to go hiking.”
K, normally hiking might be fun. But when a gal meets a guy online, it’s probably best not to go out in the wilderness alone with him until you really know each other. I mean, even the Bicycle Thief and the Fighter with the body in the closet faked normal for the first three dates before showing their true colors.
So, I agree with Mom, hiking is not such a hot idea.
As we make our way through Macy’s, I offer up some alternatives. A stroll through the park? (Kind of like hike-light.) A walk through downtown? (Like hiking, but with window shopping.) Dinner and a movie? (Okay, nothing like hiking, but I know she hasn’t seen Indiana Jones yet.)
We’re walking through men’s wear, and I’m running out of ideas, when mom stops mid-step, abruptly veers right, and power walks the opposite direction.
O-kay.
I jog after her, catching up just as she shoves me around the corner into housewares.
“What was that about?” I asked.
Mom points over my shoulder. “That was him!”
I turn around. “Who?”
“The captain. The hiker wanna-be. He’s here!”
No. Way. What are the chances? So, I peak around the corner just in time to see a tall, blond guy paying for a pair of gray slacks. He’s slim, thick head of hair, strong jaw. Not bad, really. So, I say, “Let’s go say hi.”
Mom shakes her head. “Now way. Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m wearing the same outfit I wore on the date!”
I look down. She’s in flat-front jeans, black shirt, white cropped jacket. Pretty cute date outfit, actually.
“If he sees me in this again, he’ll think I don’t have any other clothes!”
I do a giggle/snort thing. But, I have to agree, in her situation, I’d totally duck, too. No one wants to be a fashion one-hit wonder.
So, we hide out in housewares (picking up a new set of margarita glasses and a nacho bowl) while waiting for him to finish shopping. Finally the coast looks clear, and we emerge, making our through the mall.
Only, we make it just three stores in before Mom grabs my arm and veers left again.
I look up.
And the blond guy is dead ahead, coming right toward us. Man, he gets around!
Mom propels me into Anne Taylor, shoving me behind a rack of a-line skirts.
“Oh no. Oh crap. Do you think he saw me?” she pants.
I peak out. He’s making a beeline for the exit, no sign of recognition on his face.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
She does a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God.” Then her expression relaxes and she lets out a little laugh. “You know, maybe I will go on that second date. We’re obviously a lot more alike than I thought.”
“Because he shops Macy’s, too?” Hey, I gotta admit, a Navy captain who does Macy’s is almost as cool as a shoe-shopping firefighter. (Almost.)
But, Mom shakes her head, the laughter growing now. “No. Because he was dressed in the same outfit, too!”
Mental forehead smack.

Okay, so, fess up. Anyone else ever done the duck and hide thing from a guy? What’s the most silly, ridiculous, down-right embarrassing thing you’ve ever done when running into an unexpected acquaintance?

~Trigger Happy Halliday