The Newest Baby in the Shayne Clan (Maggie)

We have a new member of the family.  This is Forest, our new baby monitor lizard.  Forest is a Savannah monitor, about 3 to 4 months old, and about 12" long.  But she will grow up to five feet, and live as long as 20 years, so she's a real committment!

Here's a photo of her, peeking out from inside her hollow log.  She spends a lot of time hiding and acting all coy and shy. But when you put food in, watch out!  She moves fast.

So far her favorite snack seems to be earthworms, but she's also eaten crickets, feeder fish and mealworms.

Forgive the way the text lines up with the photos here, Blogger's improved photo uploading softward leaves a whole lot to be desired.  Anyway, below is a closeup of Forest's face.

Now we're doing lots of research on monitors, and learning tons.  It's supposed to be tough to tell males from females at this age.  Not for us, though.  She's clearly a girl.  =)  We've also been reading up on how most experts tell you to feed rodents and things, but that in the wild, those would be a very unlikely food source.  So we're going to try to go more natural, as we do with our dogs.

Here's a wider angle shot showing the entire enclosure.  We (mostly he) worked on this for hours and hours, staying up late at night to get it done.  There's a waterfall, a mister, a pond with real fish, and a multilevel habitat.  We've added one living plant, and the rest are fake, but we fully intend to have all real plants in short order. 

So far, Forest seems very happy in her new home.  Within a year, we'll have to double its size, but that's a fun project too.  And I think it's pretty to boot.  The dogs are curious, but not overly so. 

I think we're developing quite the menagerie here.  Two mastiffs, a bulldog, an arrogant kitty, and now a monitor lizard.  If the animals ever stage a coup, we'll be doomed!  But we're having fun, and that's what counts.

Tell me about your pets!

Maggie

Good Old Fashioned Witchcraft (Maggie)

You know how I am. I like to keep things positive, happy, upbeat and not focus on anything negative. But lately, it seems like a lot of people are attacking, and while I'm sure I've attracted this in some way, I also know how to fix it, and I'm about to do so.

I'm not even going to talk about specifics, because that's not where I want to focus. I'll think about good things, like that my guy is upstairs and in a few minutes, I'll be joining him. =)

So, while I'm aware that my vibration must be a little off, to be allowing this stuff in, attracting this stuff to me, I need to get rid of it instantly and powerfully and in a satisfying, fun way, in order to get my attention on fun, positive thoughts even about this particular set of events.

There's a spell that is so perfectly in keeping with my philosophy about positive thinking, it's perfect for this! It takes any negative energy being directed at you, and transmutes the energy into something positive. The more people who are out to get you, or take advantage or whatever, the more energy you get to use! And it takes something that makes you angry and defensive, and turns it (and your entire focus with it) toward something wonderful that you really want.

The Spell is one that was published in one of the Llewellyn Annuals by Dorothy Morrison several years back, and while I don't have a copy on hand, and don't remember everything precisely as she wrote it, I'm pretty good at this stuff too, and we Witchy types are always tweaking these things.

So, from Miss Dorothy as interpreted and recalled by Miss Maggie, here's what you do.

Take a cookie sheet and line it wiith tin foil.
On it, place a black candle, a gray or brown (neutral) candle
And a white candle, centered on the sheet, with the black one furthers away, brown center, white nearest you.

Take a little piece of paper and write something you really, really want on it. Visualize it. Use a picture of it if you can.

Place the paper underneath the white candle.

Now, take some salt, and pour it to draw a line from the black candle to the brown.
Draw another line from the brown candle to the white.
Draw an arrow at the end, pointing to the white candle.
Draw a circle around the white candle, paper and arrow.

Light the black candle, and see all the energy being weilded against you, being absorbed by that black candle.

Then as you light it and watch it burn, focus and SEE that energy moving along the path of salt, and into the brown candle. Trace it's path with your hand and feel the power in your palm, pulsing. Light that middle candle now, and see that energy is just energy. It's the sender who makes it good or bad. The energy is not good or bad. The brown candle is removing the sender from the energy, so that it's just energy again. Not good, not bad. The sender's intent has been removed.

Now, see the purified energy zooming from the brown candle, into the salt highway, and speeding into the white candle. Trace it again with your palm. Light the white candle. See that energy all being contained now within the circle of salt, and directed into that image of the thing you desire on the piece of paper.

You must see it adding to that goal, making it more real, bringing it closer to you!

Now let the candles burn until the go out on their own. If they do, don't relight them. If they burn all the way down, that's fine. Either way is fine. Before the white one burns all the way out, take the piece of paper and light it from the flame. Let it burn to ash within the circle of salt.

When that's done, and the candles have all gone out on their own, gather all the bits of the spell by wrapping them up in the tin foil, and take them off your property. Bury them. Return home. Wash your hands. And it is done.

I don't do as many spells as I used to, but I think it's a good time for this one. And I thought I'd share it with you. It feels to me like it will be cathartic, and instead of worrying me, these things of late will just stop pestering me at all. All their energy will have been sent toward my heart's desires, so they won't have any power left in them to worry me, even a little bit.

I'll let you know how that goes!

Enjoy!

Maggie


Maggie

The Day The Earth Stood Still (Maggie)

Well, here it is. The day I thought wasn't coming for at least a couple more weeks. The day BLOODLINE goes on sale. Yes, the release date was supposed to be May 1st, but publishers don't always enforce those, and basically, most of the time, stores are allowed to sell them as soon as the books arrive in their warehouses. And apparently, Bloodline has arrived, because those who've pre-ordered it from Amazon have already received it. And my helpful spies around the country have spotted it in Walmarts and Barnes & Nobles at various locations this week. So it's out.

And it's selling, I can feel it selling. I can hear the registers chiming in my ears. I can see the email receipts flying like flocks of snow white geese. I can feel the covers smooth between the palms of eager readers, holding it for the first time. Be gentle, folks. She's my baby. =)

I'm wound up tight and marching like the Energizer Bunny these days. So much to do. A new book to write, and all the little stuff for the one that I've finished. Minor revisions--but time consuming. Art Information forms, which I've sent five times each now, but none of the editors seem to have received them. They went into the email void, I guess. Glitches and snafus abound right now. But I'm not going to let any of that distract me from today, the day I celebrate the birth of my newest baby into the world. It would be far too easy to get so involved in the next one and the next one that I don't take the time to savor this one. I don't want to let that happen.

So I take some time to be quiet, and think about the hard work that went into creating that story. I take some time to remember what was going on in life while I was writing it. And the the insane editing process this time around. And how hard it was to change everything again and again to get it just the way I wanted it. And the fun of creating Lilith, a vampiress worthy of Rhiannon's nod of approval. I remember racing to deadline, and finally getting to the end, and that feeling of triumph and accomplishment when it was finally finished, and how good it felt to attach the file to an email and hit that send button. Once it goes flying through the ether, it's really done.

I remember the first version of the cover (here) and how I thought it too pretty. Too tame. I said that looked more like a princess awaiting a kiss from her prince, than a dark, dangerous, desperate vampiress like my Lilith. I said she needed fangs. And cleavage, for heaven's sake. And now I'm second guessing myself. I still think this version, the first version, is a prettier cover. Prettier heroine. Prettier everything. But the second is more close to the actual story it represents.

And did I pick the wrong time to stop using "Twilight" in my titles, or what? Is that not the hottest word in publishing? I gave it up when others hijacked it. I should have kept it. I had it first. Should I be worried? I don't think so. I wouldn't want any new readers to think I was the one being a copy cat. So better to keep changing, keep ahead of the pack, be on the cutting edge, a leader, not a follower. That's worked well for me up to now, and I expect that it will keep on doing so.

I love that I got word the book was out on Earth Day. That seems a good sign. I've also received word that it will be released in audio versions in May as well, so there's that to look forward too. I haven't received a copy yet, so I have no idea how it sounds or who bought the audio rights. I'll try to find out.

And now all that's left to do is relax, and let go of the oars, and let the current I've created carry me and BLOODLINE forward, where everything we've ever wanted awaits us.

I'm blissful. The book is going to do great. I hope you enjoy it!

Maggie

Spring Cleaning! (Maggie)

Ahh, spring! It's fantastic, isn't it, to watch the planet wake up after its long winter slumber? And in springtime, my thoughts turn immediately to.....

Wait, you think I'm going to say love, right? Firstly, I covered that last week. And secondly, it's not the ONLY thing I think about. Okay,it's pretty much the only thing I think about.
And why wouldn't I? I'm madly in love with the most amazing guy on the planet. And he's madly in love with me back. And when I'm not with him, or daydreaming about being with him, I'm at work. Which means, I'm writing love stories to make very woman's heart feel the way mine does every single day. So naturally, you assume I'm going to talk about spring and love and romance . . . again.

Well, I'm not! I'm going to talk about spring and cleaning! Because the two go together just as surely as, um--as Dozer and Daisy.

So, in spring, our thoughts turn to -- cleaning. Really hoeing out. Everyone, male or female, responds to spring's call for fresh starts. The urge to obliterate the memory of the winter by sweeping away every trace of it is almost irresistible. And so we clean. We clean our houses from top to bottom. We clear out our yards with rakes and shovels. We clean out our cars as we wait in line at the car wash.

We clean out our bodies. Aside from New Year's Day, the early spring is the second most popular time for people to change their lifestyles--they quit smoking, vow to eat healthier, join gyms, and begin new exercise programs.

Spring is like the Universe's great big annual "Do-Over." Everyone gets another chance. Everything's new again. We get to start fresh, and no matter what didn't work out last year, we all feel like April is giving us another shot.

I think spring is a good time to get rid of clutter. And not just the clutter in your attic and basement and closets. Although those are great places to start, for sure. There's an energy behind it that works like opening the windows to let in a fresh summer breeze. When you get rid of things that are just taking up space and collecting dust, you create a vacuum that attracts new, better things. You have the sensation of shedding needless baggage and weight as you get rid of things you haven't used in ages. Give them away. Have a yard sale. Whatever works for you.

But we can take this even deeper. We can start getting rid of other things that have been cluttering us up and weighing us down.

So the question is, what is it that needs to go? How do you tell the difference?

It's easy. When something makes you feel bad, it's time to let it go. When something makes you feel good, you definitely want more of that. That's where you begin. Start noticing how various things make you feel, you'll immediately begin to sort the things in your life into piles of "good" and "not so good." And then you do the next logical thing. You throw out the bad pile, and focus no more time or energy on that. You turn your attention to your good pile, and lavish it with appreciation and watch it grow.

I know what you're thinking. That's very easy, in theory, Miss Maggie, but not in real life. What if my "bad" pile includes things like--I don't know, my job? My relatives? My mate?

Look, if you have toxic people in your life, people who just make you feel awful everytime you spend time with them, then stop it. Write them off and move on. It's not going to get any better.

If, however, there are people in your life you want to love, want to keep around, aren't ready to give up on yet-- then you need to sort them into piles. The good pile is all the things about them that make you love them, the good stuff, the things they do right. The bad pile is the other stuff, the stuff that drives you nuts. And I will tell you that even if you have 100 things in the bad pile and only 3 or 4 in the good pile--you can work with this. You just have to refuse to pay any more attention to the bad. Don't look at it, don't discuss it, don't complain about it to your friends, and don't stay around them when you're seeing it. Instead, focus only on the good. Point it out, notice it, praise it, brag about it to your friends, and be with them when you're seeing it. The bad will fade away and the good will multiply.

If it's your job, same rules apply. Focus on the few good parts of it, do your best not to dwell on the bad, and be open to the much much better job that's waiting in the wings for you. If you believe it will come, and expect it happily, it will. If you piss and moan over it not being here yet, it won't.

What other things need to be cleaned out of our lives besides bad habits, toxic people, and miserable jobs? Well, how about the way we think?

You know we can bring about more change in our lives, for good or bad, by the things we think about, than just about any other method I can think of. What is your habit of thought? When someone tells you how lucky you are, how do you respond? In denial? Do you start explaining that things aren't really as good as they seem? I recently pointed out to a friend that she had a gorgeous home and a lovely vacation home, and her response was to remind me that both were mortgaged to the hilt. Does that make them any less beautiful? Does that make her any less fortunate to have them? No, of course not. It just makes her unable to appreciate them. It makes me wonder if some people feel guilty to have a good life. Do they feel they have to point out their hardships anytime anyone accuses them of having something good? Is it a defense?

I might have done that in the past. When someone said, "I'd kill to have your career, you're so lucky," my response used to be, "Look, I worked ten years before I sold a book. I collected tons of rejections. I had to shovel horse stalls to buy my first typewriter. I was poor. I've earned this career."

As if you have to suffer in order to succeed. When in fact, you don't. All you have to do is be positive, believe, stop complaining, know it's coming and let it in. If I hadn't believed one had to suffer and do without in order to have any success in life, then I wouldn't have had to. I did what I believed was necessary--not what actually was.

Now, when someone says I have it made, I just smile and say, "Yes, I do. And I'm loving every minute of it!"

And I am.

So go make your lists. Notice everything in your day that feels good, and then vow to notice it more. Notice everything in your day that feels bad, and get rid of it, or vow never to notice it again. Don't apologize or try to justify your blessings. Just relish them. And more will flow. And now here's your weekly Dozer & Daisy photo. It really begs for a funny caption, doesn't it?


Happy Spring!

Maggie

I'm TIRED! (Maggie)

I am tired. I finished work at 7 or a little later last night. And it's been like that every day lately. Long, long days. And then of course, there's all the work of a new puppy, which isn't quite as demanding as a new baby, but close.

Naturally I'm writing about my pets again today, though I have a treat at the end for you that has nothing to do with dogs or puppies! Meanwhile, here are Dozer and Daisy at their vet's appointment this past Tuesday. Dozer was nervous, but eventually settled down, and Daisy stuck to him like glue in the strange office. Actually, she sticks to him like glue whenever they're together.

The verdict at the vet: Dozer weighed in at a whopping 175 pounds, and is in perfect health with the exception of a little trouble with one ear. We got some medication for that and he's on the mend. Daisy weighed in at 27 pounds, and is also a very healthy puppy. Although the vet said he needed a bigger stool sample than the one I brought. To which I replied, "Just squeeze her." ;) (All right, it was a gross thing to report, but I felt the joke was worth it.)


Daisy no longer has any fear of her big pal whatsoever. She climbs on him, chews on him, barks at him, fights him for toys, and waltzes right up while he's eating and takes food right out of his dish. And what does Dozer do when she does that? He takes a step back and lets her have at it. Honestly, I've never seen such a gentle giant as him.

He's clearly fallen in love with the pup. His play is so gentle and careful. Even so, every once in a while he accidentally bats her with a big paw. Now I've seen this happen, and it's never enough to hurt. But being the baby of the family, she yips as if he's killing her every time. I tend to think she's practicing preemptive yipping. Pays to be safe. Those paws could be considered WMDs to a 27 pound pup, after all. But mostly, she just adores him. And when they're together, there are almost no potty accidents. She trots outside whenever Dozer does, watches what he does, and does what he does. No problem. Two minutes and we're back inside. When I take her out alone, she spends most of her time sniffing new smells and tasting anything she finds on the ground--twigs, pine cones, pebbles, bark, old dead grass, snow, ice, you name it. She's distracted by every noise. Chirping birds, passing cars, a brisk breeze. It takes time and patience to get the business done. (Not something I have much of this week, but we'll get to that in a moment.)


So far, casualties are light. She's frayed the sleeve of my favorite sweater, chewed the lever on the side of my reclining chair, and ripped into the console between the front seats in my Murano. She's attempted to chew my running shoes, but so far, I've caught her in the act before any damage was done. My original intent was to train her so well she would not chew on shoes. My new approach is to just keep them out of reach. Oh, and she's discovered the poor cedar porch swing that Dozer cut most of his teeth on, and has picked up where he left off. The chewing phase ended by the age of 12 months with Dozer, and I expect it will with Daisy too, but by that time, I'll probably need a new swing.

But alas, there are other things in life besides Dozer and Daisy. There's The Book. I'm in the final stages of the first of the three suspense novels planned for 2010, and it has to be finished by Monday. So I'm spending hours and hours and hours a day polishing and layering and doing all that stuff one does in the end game. I'm getting through about three chapters a day, and am on schedule, but it's brutal. And as I wrapped up for the day yesterday, I kept thinking, "I'm tired!"

And that made me think of Lilly Von Schtupp's saloon number from Blazing Saddles. It's one of my favorite movie scenes ever, and Madeline Kahn is surely the only actress who could have pulled it off. I'm trying to put the clip here, so enjoy it, and as you listen to the words, think of them as being sung by a romance writer, about writing romance novels, and creating fictional men. (So it's I've WRITTEN thousands of men, again and again....) not real life. I may just have to re-write this with my own lyrics.

Cause in real life, I never get tired of love! But then, I have the world's greatest guy in my life. (He's the only thing that keeps me going, some days!) But in fiction--well, to quote Lilly, "Let's face it, I'm pooped!"

Lilly Von Schtupp, singing precisely what I'm feeling about romance writing as I race toward deadline!

Lots of love,
Maggie (who is tired.)

Snow and the Single Woman (Maggie)

Yeah, Rosie, we CAN do it. But that doesn't mean we always WANT TO.

I'm posting again today, even though yesterday was my day, just to keep you entertained.

Okay, let's be honest. I'm venting. And I only do it because by identifying what I don't want and don't like, I can more clearly know what I do want, and what I would like better, and that's (as you know if you've been reading me at all) the first step in getting those better, preferred things. So I'll bitch and then I'll get to work changing what I don't like while focusing back on what I do. And there is so much that I love about my life.

I think I probably get on this subject at about this time every year since I became single again. So here it is.

There are two things I hate about living alone.

There's not much I can do about the biggest one right now besides notice it, tell the Universe about it, trust that it won't be forever, and then just let it go. Good. Done.

But the second most irritating thing about my single, independent life right now, is harder to ignore because it keeps getting up in my face over and over, especially this time of the year. Home maintenance.

Just last week there was what looked like a fairly simple leak in one of the water valves on my furnace. I had to call in a pro to fix it and it wasn't cheap, though it was a minor problem. I live a long ways from anyone, and it costs money to get them out here. But since I like living in the middle of nowhere that's a fair trade off. I wouldn't trade my privacy for convenience, so that's my call and I have to live with it. Fair enough.

Then there's the constant shoveling of snow from the driveway. It's unending. Especially this year when we've had over 100 inches already. I bought a very expensive snowthrower when I first moved in, hated using it (snow blows back in my face and the thing weighs a TON) and made a deal with a neighbor. He used my machine to clear my driveway for me, and in return I let him use it to clear his own. (And, it turns out, all his other neighbors!) Result, he broke the snowblower, I can't even get it into the back of the Murano to take it for repair, because it's too heavy (I tried, believe me) and so I'm back to shoveling. I don't like shoveling. I tell myself it's great exercise and it is, but it's just too time consuming. I'm on a serious deadline here. I don't have time to shovel for two or three hours after every snow storm. So, I've shoveled all I intend to.

Solution: Find a reliable snow plowing service, pay the price, and quit bitching. Believe me, I've made that decision, and I'm going to get someone hired before this weekend is out. There's no one nearby listed in the local papers, but I'm going to drive down to the local businesses where there are always notices on the bulletin boards and business cards on the counter. I'll find someone for sure. And then that issue can stop irritating me.

And while I'm at it, I'll try to find a small engine repair guy who's willing to make a house call to come and fix the expensive snow-blower. After which I think I'll sell it and put the money toward paying to have the driveway plowed.

Next up, the plumbing. Dozer dropped a toy down the toilet, I flushed in the dark, and now it's completely plugged. It's been plugged solid for five days now. And I have an upstairs bathroom I can use, but this is MY bathroom. The one where I shower and do my hair and fuss and primp, when I do that sort of thing. I hate to get out of the shower and then traipse, dripping through the entire house and up the stairs to pee, then back down to my bathroom to do my hair or whatever. It's a pain.

Solution: Oh, I plunged, and I poured pails of water down, and I got a snake and tried to ream things out that way, determined to fix it myself, to no avail. So I was reduced to calling a plumber. Done. Did it. He's on the way as we speak. I don't care how much it costs, I just can't keep being irritated by this, and I realized last night that it was irritating me =a lot.= (And granted, I was overwrought yesterday anyway, missing mom on that particular date, but I think I'd have been irritated either way. There's just no point being irritated over and over again when you can fix the problem once and be done with it.)

Then of course, there are the freezing water pipes, a problem I have every year, and the heat tape doesn't work. The pipes go underneath one section of floor where there's no basement, and it gets very cold in there. I may have the plumber take a look while he's here and see if he has any ideas for a permanent solution. In the meantime, when it's this cold, I'm spending way too much time in the basement with a blow torch, thawing pipes. It's not fun. And when I'm down there, doing it, I resent being down there, doing it, so I need to stop having to do it, in order to stop feeling resentful, in order to keep myself aligned with positive energy. (I don't have much at all right now--I'm all distracted by all these irritations and a few others, and feeling downright grouchy!)

Anyway, those are my current irritations, (the ones I can blog about, anyway) and they were very similar in the depths of last winter, as I recall. So clearly, these are issues I need to get resolved once and for all, or they're just going to keep bothering me for many winters to come.

When you start your day out irritated, your focus is on irritations, and you end up attracting more of them, which is, I'm sure, why I've had one home maintenance irritation after another for the past few weeks. So this weekend's goal is to just get every one of them out of my face, dealt with so they're not irritating me anymore. I need to get back to being happy I even HAVE a home to worry about maintaining!

These are minor problems, they really are. I should feel lucky that my life is usually so good that I throw a hissy fit when the least little thing goes wrong. And I'm always way more emotional in the two weeks between Mom's birthday (12/28) and the anniversary of her death (yesterday). So that's probably part of it.

So there you go. My venting post for the day, enhanced by an emotional two weeks of remembering Mom, feeling quite alone in the world too much of the time, and being stuck between a series of huge snow storms and an Arctic blast of cold with no end in sight.

Everything is surely going to look a lot better in the spring!

Maggie

Here We Go Again (Maggie)

Researchers at the Family and Personal Relationships Laboratory at Heriot Watt University in Scotland have released a paper that got a lot of media attention over the past two weeks, but I was busy blogging about holiday stuff then.

Now, I'm ready to tackle it. According to this paper, watching romantic comedies can be bad for real life romantic relationships, because they raise the audience's expectations of what a real life love should be.

And I say, bullcookies.

But let me elaborate. Perhaps the researchers might want to check around before wasting their time re-visiting topics that have already been covered. See, we used to get this same kind of doom & gloom nonsense from various "experts" about romance novels. They said they were bad for women. Dangerous to real life relationships. Made woman expect far too much from real life men and left women disappointed when our relationships didn't turn out like the ones in the books.

And back then I said, bullcookies.

More importantly, so did Jayne Anne Krentz and a powerful, brilliant group of authors, including one of our Storybroads here, Anne Stuart, in a book called DANGEROUS MEN AND ADVENTUROUS WOMEN, (University of Pennsylvania Press, 1992.)

In the book, these same charges now being leveled at romantic comedies, then being leveled at romance fiction, are answered intelligently, wisely, and accurately. And one of the most important flaws in these studies, both of them, is the assumption that the general public can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality. You don't see anyone warning us to stay away from horror movies, so we won't develop an irrational belief in monsters that will damage our psyches, do you?

The big difference in the studies, then and now, is that the original arguments seemed heavily aimed at women. It was women whose expectations were being raised irrationally high by the books, women who couldn't tell fiction from real life, women who shouldn't allow themselves to fantasize, lest they enjoy it too much.

This new study seems weighted more toward men. Men will get an illogical view of how easy it is to have a wonderful, fulfilling relationship. Men will fall for the notion that there's one perfect mate just for them, and that they'll know her the minute they see her. (I haven't seen too many movies based on that premise, have you?) Men will get unrealistic notions about true love and happily ever after.

Come on. First of all, men hate romantic comedies! You have to bribe, beg and negotiate with them just to get them to watch one at all, and then they roll their eyes through most of the film. They're not going to leave the theater and change their world view according to 80 minutes of what they consider silly emotional drivel.

And secondly, if some poor man does start getting the wrong idea about love from a movie, you can believe the woman who dragged him kicking and screaming to the theater will be happy to tell him that what worked for Julia Roberts wouldn't work for her. "Personally, hon, I wouldn't make you overcome your biggest phobia, climb a fire escape and propose at the top of your lungs. For me, all you'd have to do is ask. Maybe give me a rose or a daisy or a dandelion or a package of peanut M&Ms, for that matter."

Look, these people writing these papers base their premises on one thing. "I know more than you do. I know what's good for you more than you do, I know how you think more than you do, and I know what you should be doing, eating, living, viewing, reading, thinking, and experiencing more than you do." That's the only way they could possibly justify releasing these ridiculous papers in which they tell us what's good for us.

If any human being's life is messed up by watching a movie or reading a novel, then that person had problems before walking into the theater or bookstore. Which means it wasn't the movie. And it wasn't the book. Which means no book and no film can screw up a person's life. There, I said it.

Romance novels, it was discovered after all the dust settled, are good for women. Psychologists have been known to recommend them to women who've been abused by their partners, because they are empowering. They show women facing powerful adversaries and winning in the end. They show women triumphing in the end, and finding a deep and abiding love along the way. And there is nothing bad about that.

Romantic comedies show very similar things a lot of the time. But they're not always about empowering the female half of the couple. They seem to me more about empowering love itself. About empowering relationships. About giving hope that there can be someone for everyone, and that you can have your happily ever after. And what is so wrong with that? In romantic comedies, it's love that triumphs over all. And I think that's a wonderful message!

What is so bad about depicting people who are madly in love and happy together? That's not an unrealistic expectation at all. A lot of people fall in love. A lot of people manage to be happy together.

What is with this notion that anything that gives people high hopes is bad for them? High hopes equal great expectations, and you get what you expect. You attract what you focus on.

So if you believe in love and happiness and romance, then you darn well can have it for yourself, and there's no reason not to dare hope.

And yeah, this is, admittedly, coming from someone who believes in magic, and hands-on healing, and signs and omens, and animal guides, and angels and fairies and Santa Claus. I admit it, I also believe in love, which some seem to think is the most ridiculous of them all.

Don't you listen to them! Not for one minute!

There are examples everywhere, love stories between real life people that are more blissful and perfect than anything dreamt of by Harlequin or Hollywood. And they're real. And they're true. Don't tell us not to believe in love, you burned out, skeptical, frustrated, probably very lonely researchers! We know the difference between fiction and real life. But we also know that love is real and available to all of us, if we just open our hearts and believe in it.

I'd love readers to tell me their favorite real life love stories. Or post your favorite scenes from romantic movies and tell me how they made you feel!

Maggie

Maggie's Letter to Santa

I’ve started a new holiday tradition, and it sort of combines my belief in the Universal Law of Attraction, and the old habit of making New Year’s Resolutions, with my undaunted belief in Santa Claus.

The Law of Attraction says that whatever we focus on, think about, believe in, expect, is what we get. Learning how to raise our vibration, and focus on, believe in, and expect the things we really want, is a way of creating our own reality. Before you can do that, you kind of have to know what it is you want.

New Year’s Resolutions are neat, but they put all the pressure on the person making them. With Law of Attraction work, you put all the things you feel ready to tackle on your side of your “to-do” list every day, and the things that need to be done, but that you don’t feel like doing, on the Universe’s side. And usually, both sides of the list get done. You don’t worry about how that’s going to happen, you just make your list and let it go.

So this made me think a letter to Santa Claus for the things I want and intend for the entire coming year would be a great idea. It would be my daily LOA “to-do” list for a year at a time. It would be my New Year’s Resolutions too. It would be letter to the gift giver of all gift givers. My Inner Santa. The Universal Santa. The true Santa Claus.

Last year’s letter to Santa, as I noted a week ago, brought me almost everything I asked for. I’m not going to re-ask for the handful of things that didn’t manifest yet, because I’ve already created them, and they’re already on their way. To ask again would be to short circuit that journey that’s already underway, to start again at Square One on those things. So I’ll resist the urge to re-ask. And I encourage everyone reading here to write their own letter and share it here! The only rule is, you can’t really ask for things for others. Only things for yourself, though some of mine skirt the line a bit.

So here is this year’s Dear Santa Letter, in shortened form for your ease of reading. Some of the more personal requests that appear on my actual, unedited letter to Santa, have been left off this version to protect the innocent. ;)





Dear Santa,

Thank you for all the wonderful things you’ve brought me this year. I’m in a very good place, happy and blissful, thinking about things I want without noticing their lack, just enjoying the journey and the steady, consistent unfolding, and looking forward with joyous anticipation to what’s coming next.

So let’s get right to it.

In the coming year, a lot of what I want is more of the stuff I have that I love best. More of the loving relationships with my daughters and grandkids and best friends. More deepening and empowering of my romantic relationship, which is a constant source of joy to me. More steady flowing of the money into and out of my hands, keeping debts paid, bills paid, nice things coming to me and those I love. More fabulous story ideas, more flawless inspiration, more energy to write the stories quickly and easily. More fun, more joy, more love. More, more, more!

But on to specifics.

In 2009, I need you to help me, Santa, to write four novels. Three suspense books and a vampire novel, and they all need to be brilliant, and done on time or sooner.

I’d love for my titles to occupy some of slots numbered 1 through 10 on the NY Times Bestseller’s List. (I don’t mean my titles on other people’s books. I mean, MY BOOKS. I should have been clearer last time, Santa.)

I’d love for some film or tv deals to come my way, for some of my books to be adapted to those other mediums in a lucrative and successful way.

I intend and wish for my partner and I be very productive with our side projects, which I’m not going to make public here, but you know what they are, Santa. I want them to be successful, brilliant, immensely profitable to us both, and for them to make a huge splash in the industry. Likewise, the side project with my girls.

I really want another trip to Arizona, one just for fun and relaxation and exploring this year.

I’d love to find a new, reliable, loving caregiver for Dozer, for times when we want to travel without him. Someplace where he’ll be happy, safe and adored until we return.

In addition to getting more work done than ever before, I'll have more leisure time and will enjoy it. I intend to spend more time kayaking, hiking, camping, and traveling in 2009 than ever before!

And since I’m writing this before the end of the year, and before I’ve begun my holiday shopping, I want you to help me find the perfect gifts for all on my list, things that will make them feel happy and loved.

Now, the self-improvement portion of this list.

I’ll become more and more atheletic, strong, and energized, healthy, ambitious, and vibrant this year.

I’ll become ever more and more fun, easy, relaxed, and kind-the kind of woman people feel good to be around.

I’ll grow more beautiful, inside and out.

I’ll become more and more joyful, more happy and content, more aware of and appreciative of all I see and experience.

I’ll become better at time management and money management, and more blissful all at once.

By year’s end, both my hair and my nails will be long and strong and shiny and beautiful.

Thank you, Santa! I believe in you. I can hardly wait to see how you bring all of these wonderful new gifts into my life!

And as always, I reserve the right to add to this list as the year unfolds!


Hugs and Happy Holidays!
Maggie

Enthusiasm and Age (Maggie)

Before I dive into my chosen topic for the day, I interrupt myself to bring you this breaking news! I have just the thing to get your holiday engines revved up and ready to celebrate. THE BRANDS WHO CAME FOR CHRISTMAS is exactly the kind of warm, fuzzy, family, snowy, Christmassy story I love at this time of year, and my publishers have wisely decided to reissue it just in time for the countdown to Thanksgiving. It goes on sale with this cheery new cover art, on November 11th. I'm going to re-read it myself to get into the appropriate mood for shopping and decorating and baking and tree choosing and all of that fun holiday stuff. I love this time of year!

Okay, now, onto my blog topic. And no, it's not about the historic, world changing elections we've just had, although I'm completely enchanted and excited and enthused and eager about the new administration and the new age it seems to indicate that we, as a people, have entered. People have evolved. Finally.

But no, my topic for today is enthusiasm and age. I've been noticing some really fascinating aspects of human nature this past week, and I wanted to talk about it a bit and see if anyone agrees with me.

I was asked to speak to two groups of school students in the past week. Last Friday, i spoke about writing to the senior class at Sheburne-Earlville Central School. Twelfth grade. Seventeen and eighteen-year-olds. A handful of them came to class in costume, because it was Halloween. Maybe three out of the 30 or so in the class. Most wore their ordinary street clothes. And they were very quiet and polite and extremely attentive to my presentation. There were a handful of questions at the end, posed by a handful of students, and there was a noticeable pattern. The same few students asked all the questions. The ones in costume asked the most questions. But over all, there were surprisingly few questions and very little discussion. I commented to the teacher, Mr. French, afterward, that they were extremely quiet, and he said that was a great sign. To have them quiet and attentive on a Friday, much less on Halloween, meant they were interested in what was being said. I chose to believe him, but deep down, felt they were probably bored.

Then, yesterday (this Wednesday) I spoke to the fifth graders at Otselic Valley Central, my alma-mater. And these kids could not keep quiet. But they weren't interrupting or rude. No. They were excited and fascinated and curious and creative and FULL of questions. I told them everything I could squeeze in about storytelling and they were soaking it up like sponges. Every one of them had a story to tell. Every one of them had a dozen questions. They were animated and so very very enthusiastic. Nearly every hand in the room was still raised as the clock ticked and time ran out. And I'd been answering questions for quite a while by then.

And I got to thinking, it seemed to me that the fifth graders didn't care two hoots what their peers or anyone else in that room might think of them. They told me of their aspirations to write stories. The told me about stories they'd written. They told me about stories they'd heard or witnessed--mostly ghost stories those. Every kid in that class had a real life ghost experience to share (and I swear, I did NOT bring that subject up--it's like they smelled a love of the paranormal on me or something!)

I could have easily spent a second hour and I think they'd have still been chattering. And that my firstborn granddaughter, Ella, was a member of this class, while delightful, didn't seem the reason. The kids were having FUN!

And that made me wonder what happens between fifth grade and twelfth that leaves the majority of our young people either too self-conscious to show that kind of unbridled enthusiasm, or just so generally bored that they honestly don't feel any. There were, I'll add, a couple of very enthused seniors, one girl in particular who stayed after class and walked with me to the office to sign out, still plying me with questions and thoughts, and I loved that. But it seemed sad to me that she was the exception rather than the rule. We could barely get the fifth graders to go to lunch. They didn't want to leave me.

So what happens to that free wheeling, giddy, fun, sheer life-loving state of being? When do we lose it? I'd like to talk to every class, sixth grade, seventh, right on up and see if I can put my finger on when it is that they begin to change. And whether it's boredom or an aversion to seeming foolish in front of their friends, or whether they've just had all the enthusiasm trained out of them by the grownups and rules and societal norms they're told are expected of them. Do all the years of "Sit down! Stop fidgeting! Keep quiet! Be polite! Don't interrupt! Don't be silly! Stop giggling! Don't make faces, you'll freeze that way" and all the other things we say to our kids, eventually wear them down, and push the giddy enthusiasm right out of them?

I told the teacher as I left, I think that once they lose this stage of giddy joy, and not caring what anyone else thinks, they don't get it back again until they're my age.

So that makes me think we maybe spend way too much time in life complying. Doing what's expected. Modifying our behavior to fit what is deemed appropriate and acceptable and "normal." Normal is a horrible word, isn't it? Who wants to be normal? It sort of means, "Just like everyone else." But that's totally bogus, because no two people are the same.

How can we, as parents, try to nurture that buoyant quality in our kids, rather than train it out of them? How can we, as grown ups, regain some of that childlike enthusiasm. How can we feel that good again, just to be alive? How can we get back to the point where we're bouncing in our seats because we're just too darn full of life to sit still?

I think just noticing it, and reaching for it is a start.

And car dancing. Car dancing is the first step, folks. I've been thinking alot about this, and this is one of the paths. The other day I was feeling extremely irritated and upset and weepy (hormones and a car dealership visit--enough said. I wanted to eat someone's liver by the time I left.) But I didn't want to feel that way. I put on some of my favorite "feel good" music, cranked it up loud, and bopped in my seat as I drove home, and within minutes, I was smiling again. It's a quick fix.

(My feel good music this time was Paul Simon's GRACELAND CD, which you just can't listen to and feel bad. It's impossible.)

What are your quick ways to get to feeling giddy and great? I'm starting a list!

Hugs,
Maggie

Serenity Rises! (Maggie)

Serenity is almost finished, and I have to tell you, she's better than ever. I never would have believed it. I mean, I knew on some level that the fire was an opportunity to recreate my home according to my own, unique vision. But I knew it more practically than emotionally. I never would have thought the silver lining would have been quite this silver. But it is.

The colors now, are my colors. The stencils in the living room are exactly what I imagined--I could barely believe I was able to find the patterns I was looking for. I even decorated the stairway and the upstairs hall with classic, vintage romance novel covers. No one else has a house like mine. It's totally me, and totally Serenity, and we're both extremely happy with the changes. So is Dozer, I might add. He loves being able to run laps around this huge space, after being closed up on our one little room for so many months.

Of course, we're not totally moved in yet. There is no furniture to speak of, besides a small round table and chairs in the breakfast nook. I'm expecting some living room pieces to be delivered momentarily, though. My bedroom has a bed, but no dressers as yet, and the rest of the place is still empty. But I've put food in the fridge, dishes in the cupboards, and my coffee pot and toaster on the new countertop, so it's beginning to feel like a real home again. Even though we're not really living in it yet. There's still a bit of work going on, final things, doorknobs, trim, touching up bits here and there. But it's almost done. It won't be much longer. Another week, at most.


I'm noticing more things that were lost in the fire, as I go through what remains, in hopes of salvaging some of it. There's not much. I thought I could salvage a dresser or two, but the drawers are full of mold now from being stored in the damp barn outside for so long, and some are broken too, so I might have to just scrap and replace them all. Still, most of the news is very, very good. And the house is utterly beautiful.

I'm not sleeping in my bedroom very often yet. Dozer is terrified of going up the stairs, just flat out refuses, but cries all night if I go up without him. And I doubt I'll trust him to be downstairs alone once the new furniture is here. He likes to lie on couches and chew anything wooden. But we'll both adjust, together.

It's going to take a long time to fill the place again. But I'm content to take it slow, add pieces as I can, and when I find just the right ones, and discover what is really needed and called for. I like to think my energy has meshed with the house's, and that I've redone her with her input as much as with my own. We're soulmates, Serenity and I.

And so there are a few more pictures of how the place is looking, though I have to tell you, they don't come close to doing her justice!

Life is good. And this part of the cycle is nearly at an end. I hope the next one is a whole lot less stressful!

Maggie

Look Out, Red Baron! (Maggie)

Meet my newest friend. I'm calling her Piper, because I'm a fan of Charmed, Witches, nicknames for vehicles, and besides, it says "Piper" on her tail fin. (Probably not the technically correct term for it.)

So anyway, yesterday I celebrated the first day of my favorite month, (October, of course) by taking my first flying lesson. Yep, I flew Piper! And it was amazing, exhilarating, scary, exciting, fun, frustrating and wonderful. What an adventure!

I left the house a half hour before my scheduled flight time. I'd been warned that if the weather was bad, we might have to cancel, but up until the time I left, we were still on. It had been raining on and off, but had cleared a bit. Then, as soon as I left the house, the clouds gathered, it grew dark, and within five minutes, it was absolutely pouring. I felt a rush of disappointment, but then I remembered--things always work out well for me. So I drove along, repeating that mantra, just knowing it would all be fine, and it rained and rained. And then, about five minutes before I got to my destination, the clouds parted and the sun broke through. The rain stopped, and I thought, "See that? Things always work out well for me." And I drove the rest of the way, smiling, while a little voice kept asking me if I was really going to do this thing.

I arrived, and was greeted by my flight instructor, Jim Spaller. I was nervous. I went outside and took a few pictures of "my" plane. Then Jim came out to join me, and I followed him around the plane doing a pre-flight check. And then he showed me how to climb up on the wing, how to open the hatch, how to get inside. I was a little surprised that he had me get in first, since we entered from the passenger side (I promise, I'll learn the lingo as I go along.) But he said, "Yes, that's right, you get in first, and slide over into the pilot's seat. You're going to do most of the flying."

Ooookay.
So I got in, and this is what was looking at me. (Yes, I took the camera into the plane. And my purse. Next time I'll leave the purse behind, but I don't think I'll ever leave the camera.) So I sit down, and gaze at this control panel that looks to me like it's plenty complicated enough to belong on the Bridge of the Starship Enterprise. And Jim gets in beside me, and he tells me to put on my headset and fasten my seatbelt. My first instinct was to make a joke about how little good that seatbelt was going to do either of us if he was really serious about letting me do most of the flying--but I bit my lip and buckled up. We did further pre-flight checking, and he explained some things to me, the most memorable of which was that I would be steering the thing with my feet.

My FEET. There are pedals on the floor, of course, one for each foot. If you push on the lower half of the left pedal, you turn left--right pedal, you turn right. Top portions of the pedals are brakes, which you can also use for sharp turns. I really don't intend to be making too many sharp turns. And then he has me start the plane--there's actually a key! Who knew?--and with my heart in my throat, and my hands on my thighs to try to keep them from using the--oh, what did he call the steering wheel? It had a name. Anyway, I'm to use only my feet, and drive this thing out to the runway, trying to keep it on the yellow line. With my feet. It felt like walking a tightrope for the first time. I was very wobbly and uncertain. Of course I was wobbly and uncertain, I was steering with my freaking FEET!

I got through that part, but I feel like I should practice in a big Walmart parking lot for ten hours a day for a week or so, and then I might get used to that steering with the feet thing. And then we got to the runway, and he had me throttle up, and then helped me steer and told me what to do, and we went very fast, and then we took off. We actually took off!

It was so incredibly thrilling. But mostly in hindsight. During the actual flight, I was so nervous and paying so much attention to what Jim was saying and what I was doing, that I realized much later, I didn't relax enough to really enjoy it. And I will make sure I do next time. I was flying, and the sun was shining and the rolling hills of Cortland County were spread out around and beneath me all dressed up in their glorious Fall colors. I wish I had taken just a moment to relax and breathe and look. But again, I was as tense as a cat on a hot tin roof.

We climbed, and we descended. We turned using just the wheel, and using just the pedals, and then using both. He messed up the trim and had me adjust it again. It's a handle overhead that you turn clockwise when you want to go up, or counterclockwise when you want to go down (I'm sure Jim's not going to get it if I start saying "deosil" and "widdershins," Witches' terms for those directions.) It makes it easier to pull or push on the wheel which isn't called a wheel when doing those maneuvers. He also showed me how to keep the horizon just within sight when I want to fly level.

When it was time to land, it felt as if no time at all had passed, and then it felt like, "Goddess, please don't let him make me land this thing! I'll kill us both, and Piper with us!" But he didn't. Oh, he let me think I was doing some of it, but I wasn't. I turned us around and lined up with the runway, and throttled down and lowered the plane, but he was definitely keeping it level and working those directional pedals once we touched down.

I've taught five daughters to drive. It's terrifying. I can't even imagine how much worse it is teaching someone to fly. You must want to take over constantly. But I guess some people are just good at this sort of thing. Thank goodness!

There was a lot to take in, and it's going to take a lot of time and practice to become even adequate, much less proficient at this. I took home a boatload of books and my very first flight log to keep track of my hours and things. There will be study, lots of reading, homework. But that'll be the easy part.

I'm so amazed at myself and really proud to be doing this. Excited too! You know, for years, I refused to fly at all. When the Romance Writers convention was in Chicago, I drove. In DC, I drove. In Orlando, I drove. In NYC, I took the train. Drove to Boston, Drove to Jersey. Drove everywhere. I wasn't afraid to fly. I was just fairly certain that I would crash and die if I did, and I still had kids to raise.

Then one day, while making plans for a convention in New Orleans, one of my friends asked in frustration why on earth I wouldn't just fly. And the question made me realize that the feeling of certain doom was gone. I didn't know where it had gone, or why it had gone. Just that it had gone. I no longer had any resistance whatsoever. I assumed that maybe the time when flying would be dangerous to me had passed, chalked it up to some metaphysical sixth sense, and went ahead and bought tickets. And from that first flight, I knew I wanted to learn to fly a plane myself. I loved it. I sat by the window, enjoyed the view, and felt as if my heart was soaring along with the jet.

And now I'm doing it. And it's amazing.

This is one of the things on my soon to be created "Bucket List;" the list of things I want to do before I die. I've never really given much thought to such a list before, but now that I've done this, and seen dear friends facing life threatening illnesses with courage gained from lives well and truly lived to the fullest, I've decided to make one, and becoming a good pilot is right on top. I'm going to have to give some thought to what else is going on my list.

What's on yours? What are some of the things you've always wanted to do, but never done?

Hugs,
Maggie

The Cover Art Gods Are Smiling (Maggie)

I think I have an interesting topic for you this week. A refreshing change, yes? It's all about cover art, and that is one important topic to those of us in the book biz, and often an area over which we have little control. But I've been very blessed with beautiful cover art time and time again, and almost always, with art departments who really take my suggestions to heart.

Pardon me, I just need to move this--URGH!--huge dog off of my lap. Ugh!

Okay, that's better. Now where was I? Oh, yes, cover art. I've had some beautiful covers, and I think I'm going to blow some up and frame them and hang them around my new and improved house when it gets done.

Meanwhile, the book in question is titled BLOODLINE. It's another vampire novel, and it's due for release in May of 2009. My editor sent me the initial concept for the cover, and I loved it, but I had a few suggestions.


I thought the heroine's jaw was a little too masculine. I thought it didn't really shout "Vampire" and maybe some fangs would help. I also thought there was a sad lack of cleavage where there was plenty of opportunity for cleavage, and Goddess knows, I'm all about cleavage. It's my best feature! (Insert evil grin here.) I wanted it to look a little more dangerous. And the background color looks like it would fit better with an Autumn release, rather than a late Spring one. It really is a beautiful cover, but there were these tiny things that I thought could come through a bit more strongly. So after reviewing this art with my editor and my agent, and looking it over and making notes, and trying to think of the reaction of a reader browsing through the stacks at a bookstore, I compiled my suggestions, sent them off to my editor, and waited to see what the final result would be.





Here is the revised version of the cover. I'm not sure how, but they definitely softened the jawline, even while giving the heroine a far more dangerous look. The background color is blood-red now, which I love, and even the moon, which I barely noticed in the first cover, has that blood-red tint, which, I think, makes it stand out more. The heroine has fangs, so it's obviously a vampire novel from the very first glance, and she has collarbones (which make a woman seem a little bit more vulnerable, I think) and cleavage, which just makes the book more sexy. In the first version, the heroine has the look of a princess, awaiting her prince's rescue. In the second, she looks like she's going to spring up and grab said prince by the front of his shirt (if he's wearing one) and have her way with him. This reflects the book a lot more closely. Though Lilith is vulnerable at first, being without her memory as the book opens, her true personality soon comes through. And her personality is modeled after the original Lilith-she who could not be tamed. So it fits. Although, the heroine is a bit prettier on the first one, isn't she?

What do you think? Which one do you like better? Which one would tend to make you pick up the book?

There's a lot that goes into the development of the covers. The tagline on the front, those two lines that give you a hint of the story's premise, is something we discuss at length. Ideas are batted back and forth until we all agree on one that we hope will grab you. It's HARD to put a gripping storyline into a handful of words! Then there's the back cover copy, that bit that gives you a more in depth idea of what the story is about. I usually get some version written by someone in NY, and it's often based on my original synopsis. The synopsis is the document I write before I start the book, telling the editor the story from beginning to end before I write a word of it. The problem is, I rarely stick to the synopsis. Characters tend to take off in their own directions on me, and I change my mind a lot as I'm writing. So that first blurb is usually way off, through no fault of its creator. So then my agent and I brainstorm and analyze and between us, we come up with a revised version, or sometimes a whole new one. And then my editor looks at both and adds her expertise. We go back and forth, we polish and tweak and revise. And finally, we all agree.

It's very involved, and it's definitely a team effort. And the same process often happens with choosing titles, except on those rare occasions where one of us comes up with a brilliant one right off the bat, and we all love it immediately.

What do you like to see in a cover? The hero? The heroine? The background? The color, title, author name? A piece of jewelry or nature scene on the front instead of a character? Do you pay any attention to those taglines on the front? (I think they're actually called "shoutlines" but I could be wrong. It's happened once or twice.) What draws your eye to a book on the bookstore shelf? Is there a cover that stands out in your memory? (And I mean BESIDES Christina Dodd's infamous three handed heroine on the first printing of CANDLE IN THE WINDOW. Which I'm proud to say I own.)

Let's talk cover art! I'm dying to hear points of view from people not necessarily immersed in the business. You're the ones these covers are designed to impress, after all!

Best,
Maggie

(Announcement) Fitness Challenge from Maggie Shayne

There are challenges going on all summer, with prizes, over on Maggie's Health and Fitness email list. This next one begins Monday July 7th. If you want to join in, send a blank email to Maggies-health-and-fitness-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
Details below!
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I got this idea from a challenge the Onondaga County Parks Department is doing this month.

The challenge is to exercise for 30 minutes a day, every day, for 30 days.
30-for-30.

So here's what you need to do. Get yourself a calendar or use one you already have. And begin on Monday writing down what you do, and how long you do it.

Now this includes brisk walks, swimming, biking, aerobics, weights, yoga, martial arts, running, jumping on a trampoline, and anything else you can think of. I'd really like us to mix it up and see how many activities we can include in our thirty day marathon.

We'll stay on our weight loss/diet plans, of course. We'll keep weighing in and checking our weight, and sharing that if we want, naturally. And this is going to be tough for me, because it will end AFTER the RWA convention in SF. So I'll have to use a hotel gym for that final week! Yikes!

We'll keep track of everyone who completes the challenge. (Or if no one does, we'll keep track of who managed to get the MOST days in.) And we'll put those names in a hat and draw one to win the grand prize!

The Grand Prize--it's fabulous! It's a full set of 4 workout DVDs from Beachbody.com, Debbie Siebers' SLIM EXPRESS. It includes Cardio Core Express, Cardio Sculpt Express, Cool it Off!, and 6-Minute Abs. It's close to a fifty dollar value with shipping. And appropriately enough, each workout, takes 30 minutes.

I actually just bought this set, thinking I didn't have it yet, but it turned out, I actually had already bought it. It was stored with most of my other belongings, at the cleanup crew's place. They brought my DVDs back last week, and then this arrived like the next day! It's still wrapped, brand new.

So we begin on Monday.

Also, I'm going to try to post daily "tips" that we can each try to incorporate into our daily lives to help boost our progress.

Monday we begin.
Our final day, day 30, will be Tuesday, August 5th.
We'll tally the results and pick a winner on Wednesday August 6th.

Better rest up today. Or gear up! Enjoy your Sunday and congrats on a job well done on our previous challenge!

Maggie

StoryBroads on the New York Times Bestseller List!

Cut and pasted from The List:
21 FIRE AND ICE, by Anne Stuart (Mira)
22 LOVER'S BITE, by Maggie Shayne (Mira)


In the wake of a failed love affair, brainy beauty Jilly Lovitz takes off for Tokyo. She's expecting to cry on her sister Summer's shoulder, then spend a couple months blowing off steam in Japan. Instead, she's snatched away on the back of a motorcycle, narrowly avoiding a grisly execution attempt meant for her sister and brother-in-law.

Her rescuer is Reno, the Committee's most unpredictable agent. They'd met once before and the attraction was odd— tattooed Yakuza punk meets leggy California egghead—but electric. Now Reno and Jilly are pawns in a deadly tangle of assassination attempts, kidnappings and prisoner swaps that could put their steamy partnership on ice.



Before she joined Reaper in hunting Gregor's gang of rogue bloodsuckers, privileged princess Topaz was gunning for just one vamp: Jack Heart. The gorgeous con man had charmed his way into her bed, her heart and her bank account, taking her for half a million dollars and vanishing without a word.
Now she and Jack—maddeningly attractive as ever— are supposedly on the same side. As Reaper's ragtag outfit scatters, Topaz sets out to solve a mystery that's plagued her all her lives, mortal and immortal: what really happened to her movie-star mother, who died when Topaz was just a baby? With four men claiming to be her father, why has she always been alone? And what stake does Jack have in discovering the truth about her past? Topaz is sure he's up to something—but her suspicions are at war with her desires.…