Seriously though, I enjoy it when copies of my latest release show up at the office Christmas party as coveted door prizes, or when a former Marine brings one of my books to work and asks me to autograph it for him.  But I really enjoy it when the guys in my office ask if they were the inspiration for my most recent cover!  Sadly, none of the men  I work with look anything like those gorgeous cover models.  But that doesn’t stop some of them from auditioning for the part, like this guy, whose photo was sent to me from Afghanistan.  I have no idea who he is, but love that he is holding a copy of my book Hot-Blooded in the crook of his arm, and is wearing the same outfit and striking the same pose as the cover model!   

Who knows…?  Maybe he could end up on the cover of his own book!

Both my husband and I work for the Department of Defense, and supporting the troops is our agency’s #1 mission. We  send hundreds of civilians over to Iraq, Afghanistan, and Kuwait every year to work in a variety of different capacities, all designed to support our soldiers and get them the services and equipment and they need to do thier jobs.   Sadly, we lost our first team member in an insurgent attack just over a week ago.  It was shocking and sobering, reminding us that just because civilians don’t wear camouflage or carry weapons, doesn’t mean they don’t face the same dangers or make the same sacrifices that our soldiers do. 

I spoke with my husband via video chat the other night, as my girls and I were heading to bed, and he was just waking up to start his day.  He looked weary, so I asked if he was getting enough sleep.  He said he had worked a fifteen hour day, and that three rocket attacks during the night meant he spent his precious sleeping hours sitting in a bunker.   But he said that even with the Spartan living conditions, long hours, and near constant threat, he wouldn’t change his mind about going over.   All you have to do, he said, is meet some of the soldiers and see how appreciative they are, to realize you are making a difference in their lives.

With Veteran’s Day just around the corner, now is a good time to remember a service member, or to send a small care package or letter to a soldier.   It’s a small gesture, but means so much to them. 

Have a great day!

So this year, I tried to think of something that my husband would really enjoy, too.   He loves Irish history and our bookshelves are filled with books about the Picts and Celts and ancient kings of Ireland.  He comes from a proud Irish family that literally counts the days until St. Patrick’s Day, and I feel like we eat soda bread and Irish stew for the entire month of March.  But even more than Irish history and traditional Irish food, he loves Irish beer.  Murphy’s.  Guinness.  Smithwicks.  He isn’t partial.  So I think, what better place to go than Ireland?  

I love the movies Far and Away, and The Quiet Man, and after watching Falling for a Dancer, I knew I had to visit the Dingle Peninsula.  We’ll all enjoy the gorgeous scenery and while my guy explores the ancient passage tombs and ring-forts, the girls and I can stimulate the local economy by exploring the shops.  And then we can wrap up each day in some cozy pub with some traditional music and a pint of  local brew.  Sounds ideal, right?  Did I mention that we’re going with my parents? 

Seriously, when I first proposed that they join us, I wasn’t sure they would agree.  My mom hates to fly and both of them recently had some scary health issues that I wasn’t sure they would recover from.  But thanks to some wonderful doctors, they are both the picture of health and I’m really looking forward to spending this time together.   My mom and I planned the itinerary, which includes a week on the west coast and then four days in Dublin.  She wants to see the Book of Kells and my dad wants to tour the Guinness factory (I think they call it the Guinness Storehouse), which makes him a hero in my husband’s eyes.  My older daughter wants to see baby sheep (I don’t think that will be a problem) and my younger daughter wants to “meet a cute Irish boy.”  That could be a problem.   And for myself?  I just want to soak in the culture and beauty of the country and come back with some wonderful memories…and I wouldn’t say no to a few pieces of Irish pottery!

What about you?  Is there some place you’ve always wanted to go?  Who would you choose to go with you?  And if you’ve been to Ireland before, are there any sights that are must-sees while we’re there?  Comment here, and I’ll choose someone at random to receive a wee special gift from the Emerald Isle!   Slan go foill!

I’m dating myself here, but it’s been exactly 30 years since I went shopping for my first prom gown with my mom. I distinctly remember traipsing through the only mall within 50 miles, looking for that perfect dress. Back then, the perfect gown was a Prairie-styled, Gunne Sax gown by Jessica McClintock. The one I wanted was made of calico printed in a sweet, tiny-floral pattern, with sheer puff sleeves and ruffled wrists. Sadly, my mom refused to pay $180 for the dress of my dreams, insisting she could make me a much prettier gown for a fraction of the cost. I remember lying on my bed in tears while my dad patiently explained that my dress would be hand-made, not home-made. It would be beautiful. I was sure that I was going to be the laughingstock of the prom; the only one without a modern dress. In the end, the white-eyelet and satin dress my mother made was simple and sweet and completely beautiful.

Flash forward to today and the prom dresses are glamorous designs with red carpet appeal. Plunging bodices and bare backs, deeply slit skirts and slinky, shimmering fabric with beaded embellishments. I am completely stunned at the idea of my teenaged daughter wearing something so overtly sexy, but if I express my dismay, I’ll be seen as outdated and clueless about current fashion.

So I’ll remember the excitement of my own prom, and do my best not to seem too out of touch with the world my daughter is growing up in.

He and my mom got married just a few months after she graduated from high school , right after he was discharged from the Navy. My mom had been crazy about him for years, despite the fact her parents said he was bad news and would never amount to anything. They bought an old Victorian that needed a lot of work, and some of my earliest memories are of watching him turn that old house into a home. I don’t recall him ever having the luxury of just relaxing; if he wasn’t working on the house, he was under the hood of a car, trying to keep our two clunkers running. He worked two jobs so that my mom could go to college. He was the one who got my sisters and me ready for school in the morning , and tucked us into bed at night. I remember him on his hands and knees hunting for our missing shoes, and making us each different meals for supper because we refused to eat the Western sandwiches that he was so fond of.

When I was in middle school, he was the one who told me that since the town didn’t have a girl’s softball team, that I should try out for little league. I didn’t make the team, but by the following year the town had established an all girls league.

After my mom graduated from college, my dad put himself through school and I remember watching him receive his Bachelor’s Degree, and then his Master’s Degree and being so proud of him. That was more than 35 years ago. He and my mom will celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary next year…not bad for a marriage that most people said would never last. But that’s the kind of man he is. When he makes a promise, he keeps it.

My dad has been battling cancer for the past two years, with the same determination and dignity that he’s demonstrated his entire life…with a quiet conviction that he will not only succeed, but that he’ll come out on the other side a better man.

Who are the heroes in your life, and why? Let me know, and I’ll pick three winners to receive a copy of my book, HOT-BLOODED, the first book in the It Takes a Hero mini-series.

Happy Birthday, Dad, and many more!

This got me thinking…what would it be like for an attractive, single woman with no military background to go over to Afghanistan, to be surrounded by hardened soldiers and to live according to their standards? And what if she finds herself falling for the one soldier who believes that women have no place in a combat environment and who, despite his attraction to her, questions her abilities and does everything in his power to send her packing?

This was the genesis of Hot-Blooded, the first book in the new It Takes a Hero miniseries, out on bookstore shelves this month.

I loved writing this story and researching what it’s like to live on a remote military outpost, where mortar attacks and insurgency aren’t the only dangers, and where intimate relationships aren’t just frowned upon; they’re almost impossible to achieve. I especially enjoyed writing about Chase McCormick, the badass special ops solider who prides himself on the fact that no woman has ever made him lose control, either in bed or on the battlefield. But after meeting Elena de la Vega, the toughest battle he fights is his desire for her. He quickly finds himself becoming the kind of soldier he once condemned; the kind who would give his life to protect a woman. And while Elena initially questions whether or not she has the fortitude to cope with sandstorms, camel spiders, and the irresistible attraction she feels for Chase, she soon realizes that love is the most powerful weapon of all.

Is there anything you would love to do, but are afraid to? Share it here, and I’ll pick two random winners to receive a copy of Hot-Blooded!

I loved writing the novella, Packing Heat, which tells the story of Marine sniper, Matt Talbot. After twelve years of service, he’s ready to hang up his weapon, return home, and really get to know Megan O’Connell, the pretty schoolteacher he’s been corresponding with for the past six months. But fate has other plans for the hunky soldier. When he’s hailed as a hero for his combat actions, he finds his newfound status really gets in the way of his budding romance with Megan.

One of the things that made writing this novella so special for me, is that it’s based on a true story, and my thanks go out to the real-life hero for sharing his experiences with me. BORN ON THE FOURTH OF JULY is the perfect book to bring along on your next trip to the beach, or your next vacation, or to just curl up with on a sunny afternoon. But be sure to bring along plenty of cool beverages, because these stories are smokin’ hot!

Don’t miss my September book, HOT-BLOODED, which is the first book in the It Takes a Hero mini-series. If you like gorgeous men in—and out—of uniform, then I guarantee you’ll love this story.

Post a comment and use the word “hot,” and I’ll select two random winners to receive a copy of BORN ON THE FOURTH OF JULY. Thanks for stopping by!

My absolute favorite was the Sunshine Family dolls, a sweet hippy family made by Mattel, consisting of Mom, Dad, and Baby Sweets. My older sister had Barbies, but I only wanted to play with the Sunshine Family, and I brought them with me everywhere. I think they cost about $10 back in 1974, and I saw them on sale for about $70 on eBay.

The least favorite toy I had was a ventriloquist Bozo the Clown doll that scared the bejeezus out of me. I would grab it by a foot and, holding it at arms’ length, would fling the thing deep into my closet. My mom would pull it out and put it back on my chair, and I never had the courage to tell her how much I hated that doll. My uncle came to visit one day with his golden retriever, Molly, who had an obsession with burying things. My sisters and I gave the Bozo doll to her and watched in glee as she buried it behind our garage. After that, we were too afraid to go back there for fear that it would crawl out of the ground and come after us.

These days, my favorite toys include things like my iPod, my laptop, and my Wii. What about you? What were some of your favorite toys as a child, and what about now? Leave a post here, and I’ll select somebody at random to receive a $25 Amazon gift card toward the purchase of a new toy!;-)

This story is about a woman who works for the Department of Defense, who impulsively volunteers to do a six-month deployment to Iraq. She’s heard stories about the quality of life in the Green Zone, complete with fitness center, fast-food restaurants, and lots of soldiers to keep her safe. But when a last minute directive sends her to a remote outpost in Afghanistan, where a certain hard-bodied special ops soldier is also stationed, she realizes she’s in way over her head. Think Private Benjamin meets Call of Duty.

This story is also meaningful to me, in that a good friend of mine recently returned from a deployment to Iraq. Like me, she is a civilian with no military training or background. I thought she’d be anxious to return to the States, but she actually extended her deployment and stayed for fifteen months. It seems she met a soldier over there and they’re returning home together…

What about you? Do you enjoy stories about military heroes? What about military heroines?

I’ve just begun a three-day, 1,500 mile road trip from the northeastern tip of Massachusetts, where the thermometer now reads a brisk 26 degrees, southward to the sunny state of Florida, where I’m told the thermometer now reads…a brisk 26 degrees!

By the time you read this, I’ll have already been on the road for several hours, working my way through Boston and then west along the Massachusetts turnpike before turning south toward Connecticut and New York. If the weather and traffic conditions are favorable, we’ll reach southern Virginia by dinner.

In the van with me are my 70-year old father, and his ancient golden retriever. I haven’t spent this much time with my dad since I was seventeen years old and we traveled by train to visit relatives in Chicago. At that time, he was younger than I am now. Although we rarely agree on anything, he has always been there for me, no matter what. Even if he never lets me forget it afterwards.

So this will be an adventure for both of us.

My parents usually make this southerly migration in October, trading their New England home for their Florida home on the gulf coast. But this year, my mom had hip surgery and needed to stay in the Boston area to recuperate. So she is flying to Florida this morning on a non-stop flight, while I agreed to accompany my dad for the 3-day drive. Both he and my mom are convinced that he cannot–and should not–make the drive alone, and I’m inclined to agree. We had our first accident last night, before we even left the driveway. While backing up with the driver’s door open, the door caught on a frozen embankment of ice and snow, nearly tearing it from the hinges. We were able to wrestle the door back into place and close it, but it is now wired shut for the duration of the trip and repairs will need to wait until we reach Florida. Three long days from now.

I told myself that at least I had the warm weather to look forward to, even for a day or two, before I flew home. But my dad called yesterday to remind me to pack warm, and to bring my boots, since even Florida is feeling the effects of the deep-freeze we’ve been experiencing. It’s okay…I’m making the trip for him, not the weather. Even if I’ll never let him forget it.

Who would you most like to spend three days in a car with? Who would you least like to make that trip with? Leave a comment and I’ll randomly select one person to receive a 5-lb bag of gummy alligators (guaranteed to last for a 3-day trip). All responses are confidential!