What’s your name again?

Please welcome my fabulous guest blogger, Maria Grazia Swan...

Some American first names are very confusing to me. Take Pat for example, it is short for Patricia or Patrick? Then, do you know if it is he/Pat or she/Pat? Patricia can also be shortened to Patty or Trish or Tricia or even Patsy. In those cases, it is clearly a she/Pat, right? Then there is Toni or Tony. Yes, for a native that’s self explanatory, for somebody like me who learned to spell with an alphabet of 21 letters, it is a little more difficult. I finally asked a friend who kindly explained the difference between the two endings, “i” for the female version and “y” for the male version as a nickname for Anthony. You see, now, to me, Anthony is the simple one. Consider for a moment Miki, Mickey, or Micky. Where did the “y” come from in this case? What about Sam? And Blair, Morgan, Jaime, Marion, and dare I ask? Paris. Are these boy’s or girl’s names?

Then you have last names that are really first names. How confusing is that? There’s Lynn David, Andrew Lawrence, April Rose, Kim Lindsay, Tom Arnold, Billy Joe, Ricky Martin, Tina Louise, Marc Anthony, Marc Grace, Bruce Lee. I bet you could add a dozen more to my list.

When I was growing up in Italy, everybody had to have the name of a Saint.
There is a Saint’s name next to every calendar day and Italians like to celebrate their name day. There used to be a lot of girls and women named Maria’ It was Maria this and Maria that. Maria isn’t so common anymore. However, Italian first names are easy to distinguish because male names end in “o” like, Mario while female names end with an “a” like Maria. If I stopped writing right now, you’d probably all go on thinking how simple Italian names are for the purpose of knowing the sex of the name holder. But, there are exceptions. Quite a few actually, like Andrea; in the United States this is a girl’s name and since it ends with an ‘a’ you would assume the same of the Italian counterpart. You’d assume wrong. Andrea is a boy’s name.

And we have other exceptions. For instance, both boy’s and girl’s names ending with an “e”, like, Cesare, Dante, Davide, Beatrice, and Clarice, and what’s interesting is that these names don’t have a translation for the opposite sex.

I named my first-born in the Italian tradition, using the names of his two grandfathers: David, Augusto. I had hoped he would use these names proudly, but pretty soon he became just Dave, and at high school graduation, he bribed the announcer not to mention his middle name. So much for tradition. With the next boy I decided to find a name that couldn’t be abbreviated. Fat chance. Brian Swan quickly became BS, you all know the common meaning of that acronym.

As for myself, my given name was Maria Grazia. In a perfect world, it translates to Mary Grace, but we live in the United States of America, so, when I grew tired of people calling me Mary Thank You, I began to use Maria, just plain Maria for my first name. It’s hard to shorten or change that, I hope. If you have other ideas, I don’t want to know, leave me this small sense of security and comfort.




~ Maria Grazia Swan

Maria Grazia Swan is an author and motivational speaker who shares relationship advice and guidance for women re-entering the social/dating scene. Maria empowers and encourages single women to be bold, fearless, and sexy in their pursuit of life and love after age 45. An award recipient from the Women’s National Book Association, Swan is the author of Boomer Babes: True Tales of Love and Lust in the Later Years (Leisure Books). Visit
http://www.mariagrazia.tv/

Wood-Lovin' Nymph

I'm giving you a sneak peak at one my good friend's new book that is just out today. I've read this story and believe me, you'll need a fan as you devour it. ~CC

Wood nymph Ariana loves the Central Park oak tree in which she lives…but she craves Rick Ballentine’s hard body more. Unfortunately the sexy NYPD detective believes she’s working with a couple of muggers in the park. To avoid arrest, she must convince him of her innocence and she’s willing to use her body to do it.

Rick Ballentine resists his lust for Ariana. After all, it’s against NYPD policy for a cop to fraternize with a suspect. But when this hot fairy seduces him, his badge suddenly seems less important than satisfying his desires with her lush body.

Wood-Lovin’ Nymph by Téa Trelawny available Sept 9 at www.jasminejade.com

It's That Time of Year...

As many of you know, every Labor Day Weekend, I take my girl scout troop camping for three days. We started when the girls were in 1st grade. Now, they are 6th,7th & 8th. And we always have a great time. Always.

This year, we had a couple of new girls. Here's how I know they had a good time.

Me: Did you two have fun?

New Girls: Yes! Your troop is hysterical and very dramatic.

Yes. We had drama. I was running the zip line when one girl came to me and said another was sobbing and I should come quick.

Me: I can't. I'm running the zip line and we have all these people waiting.

Her: You HAVE TO! It's a matter of LIFE & DEATH!

Me: I'm wearing a harness and have one girl dangling by a thread, two - stories up over there.

Her: OMG! (she actually said the letters OMG) She's CRYING!

Me: Well, have her come to me, then.

Her: No. She won't come here.

Me: Where is she?

Her: (points to a spot 5 yards away).

Me: There are two other leaders, you know. Two other leaders who aren't trying to keep girls from falling to their deaths - two completely capable leaders who could help.

Her: FINE! (Huffs away.)

What happened? Remember that game, telephone, where you whisper something to the next person, and they pass it on, etc. until the final phrase is unrecognizable or frighteningly offensive? Well, one girl said something. Another girl overheard it as an insult to another girl and took it upon herself to let said girl know.

They were best friends one hour later.

I am not kidding.

There were other moments of drama too. But that's just par for the course. I remember something we thought was life and death when I was that age in my girl scout troop. One of the girls ate with her mouth open and the rest of us spent weeks agonizing over how to tell her. Of course we handled it maturely - blurting it out during an argument.

You know what the offending girl said? She said, "Thanks for telling me. I never knew I did that."

All in all, everyone had a blast. I ate way too many s'mores (you can't have one girl offer to make one for you and turn down the 13 other girls! That would be just WRONG!). I lost my voice and got no sleep. But it was absolutely perfect. I can't wait for next year.

As for being hysterically funny and overly dramatic...I don't see how you could have one without the other.

The Assassin

Can I Brag?

Can I brag? Just for a few minutes, or at least for one blog. Please…

You see, I’m awfully proud. I know, I know you think I’m about to pull out my grandmama book and show you some pictures of my precious granddaughter and probably tell you how cute she is when she says, “I wuv you” or tell you how she’s learning to count. “one, two, nine!” Hey, who needs three through eight anyway? So fine, you can bet your best pair of panties that I’m over the moon proud of that little girl. But today, for these bragging rights, I’m not going into grandmother mode. Well, no more than I’ve already gone.

The person, actually two persons—and my granddaughter could count that—I’m braggin’ on is my granddaughter’s mommy and daddy. That’s right. Jason and Nina are two very talented individuals. And I’m not talking about Jason’s cooking abilities or Nina’s gift of walking on her tip toes. Neither do I mean their making-the-perfect-grandchild talent or their parenting skills. Nope, the talent I’m touting today is their artistic talent.

Some of you probably don’t know this, but my daughter is an artist. (Some of these are at the show and some of them are from older shows.) I wish I could tell you she got all her talent from me, but nope. While I can paint pictures in my head and put them down on paper with words, my little girl could draw better than her mommy by the time she was three. “Draw me an elephant?” she would ask me. I would try and she would look at me disappointed and say, “Mommy, that’s not an elephant, this is an elephant.” She’d draw one and darn it didn’t look like an elephant. But in my defense, I did put a trunk on the stick figure.


But that little girl is all grown up now and her hubby, my favorite son-in-law (Shh, don’t tell him he’s my only one) is also an artist.
















And this weekend they are part of a group show in Houston. So, if you are in the Houston area, and are into art, pop over to the show.


And now since I’ve bragged, I want to give you equal opportunity. Who are you proud of in your life? Who makes you smile? Who makes feel warm and gooey when you think about them? Come on, share a little.

Happy Labor Day!

Don't you just love Monday holidays! In keeping with my "I hate Mondays" stance in life, I am willing to vote for a bill that moves every holiday to the nearest Monday. We can have everything observed - Christmas observed, Fourth of July observed. The actual day doesn't matter as long as it's a day off, right?

Well, sorta a day off. You know me. Always working. So today's a day off from the day job, but not a day off from working on the latest Harlequin Intrigue. I have to say though, that I am REALLY enjoying writing this format and these stories. I'm differing greatly from my norm as Intrigue does not publish humor and have delved into the arena of gothic romances. Not wildly paranormal, as Intrigue doesn't go much that direction either and neither do I, but just enough creepy to make you shiver - hopefully!

Here's a little teaser from the first book, THE SECRET OF CYPRIERE BAYOU, coming March 2011.

Olivia Markham makes her living by renting haunted houses and writing about them, but when she rents laMalediction (the Curse), she realizes it's the house from her nightmares. A house she's never set foot in before now. Olivia's determined to figure out her connection to the mansion tucked deep in the Louisiana swamp, but someone is just as determined to see that she doesn't.

Is it just me that loves the idea of a spooky house, cut off from civilization? I love those kind of movies, too. The second book is a related to the first and will finish off an overarching mystery plot.

So what are you up to today? Work? Relaxation? Both?

Deadly DeLeon

Viva Las Vegas!

With the boom in ebooks lately, I've decided to jump on the bandwagon.  This week I published a new book, VIVA LAS VEGAS, exclusively on Amazon Kindle!

VIVA LAS VEGAS was a book I originally wrote before I wrote my first High Heels novel. It won several wards, including a Golden Heart award, but ultimately my editor decided she wanted to go in a different direction and bought my High Heels series instead of this book. So, even though it has been near and dear to my heart for years, it has never been published. Until now! VIVA LAS VEGAS is not a mystery, like most of my previous books, but more of a humorous women's fiction story - sort of a cross between Sex and the City and Eat, Pray, Love. Here's a short blurb and a video book trailer:

VIVA LAS VEGAS
The Queen of Hearts: Mary Halligan can't get over her ex-fiancee, can't get a date to her little sister's wedding, and can't help being faced with happily ever after everyday at the wedding chapel where she works for an Elvis impersonating reverend.
The Full House: Ella Campbell is a former showgirl turned minivan driving mom who can't quite figure out how it happened that she and her perfect husband are sleeping in separate rooms.
The Ace of Clubs: Kit (just Kit) is a magician's assistant who wishes she could make her attraction for her married boss disappear.
The Straight Flush: David Shepard is a flamboyant showboy with only one thing hotter than his dancing career - his lover’s jealous temper.
Four friends. Four different points of view. One story of love, loss and lust in the most decadent place on earth. The only question is, what are the odds of finding true love in the city of sin?



~Trigger Happy Halliday



(By the way... Kindle books are viewable not only on a Kindle device, but also on your iPhone, iPad, BlackBerry, Android, Mac, or PC.)

Leslie Rants...

My daughter, Margaret, started junior hi... I mean middle school three weeks ago. And while I'm correcting myself (which I find myself doing often now that she's reached this age - not by choice - I might add) I should call her Meg - which she suddenly prefers.

ANYWAY, Meg loves junior... I mean middle school. I'm serious. She loves it. On the first day, the eighth graders applauded the seventh grade as they entered the gym. She's even taking Home Ec... I mean Facts (whatever that means).

I feel like I'm seriously missing something here.

Don't get me wrong. I'm thrilled it's working out for her. I'm just shocked, that's all. I've been preparing for this for a couple of years. Hell, I've even read Queen Bees and Wannabees in preparation for the terror and tears I thought would come.

Instead, Meg's experience is completely different than mine.

In the '70's, when I - ahem - went to what we then called Junior High - those two years were a nightmare. I actually tried to convince my parents to send me to an equestrian boarding school in Ohio.

Instead of applauding and supporting us, the eighth graders considered us "fresh meat" and couldn't wait to torment and torture us. There were no peer counselors, no week-long ice-breakers and fun. That kind of support was considered ridiculous. We were expected to suffer the same hazing they had. Even today, at 44, I shudder remembering the stress and strain. Now the school is made up of Stepford Kids.

And Home Ec was not a requirement. In fact, I took Art every semester to avoid that class. And I still have the bust of Inspector Clousseau to prove it. But now, it's called Life Skills or FACTS. FACTS? Well, she will be learning how to iron a shirt...so I guess that's something.

There are some "improvements" I don't like however. Back in the day, JH was where you were first exposed to a lot of team sports. Everyone made the team. Sure, your butt would be warming the bench if you sucked but you still made the team.

Now, the first two weeks are made up of auditions. And they're hard. You have to try out for the volleyball team, for example. And most girls don't make it. One of the few things you don't have to try out for is cross country track. Everyone makes the team. However, if you want to compete you have to be able to run 2 miles. 2 miles. You even have to fill out an application for the newspaper staff and there's no guarantee there. Hell, we probably won't even have newspapers when these kids graduate.

I guess it's a trade off. Middle school is a happier, emotionally (and apparently physically) safer place than it was when I was there. But it was your introduction to a lot of activities you didn't have in elementary school. Everybody could join.

So, I'm confused. But I guess if Meg is so happy, I shouldn't worry about it. I'll just open a bottle of vodka, and forget about the crap I went through. It's a new world.

The Assassin