While Zilla (my husband) and I were dating he worked at a local zoological park.  That summer they had LOTS of babies – 1 lion, 1 tiger, 2 bears, 2 cougars and some lemurs.  Because the owners had their hands full, Zilla took over raising the cougars for several months. Zoya and Asia were adorable and sooo mischievious.  Zoya even managed to break her leg…which started our long relationship with a local vet.  When you walk in with a baby cougar people tend to remember you.

I have to admit that this experience was one of the coolest of my life.  Not many people get to say they’ve hand raised cougars, played tug-of-war with a tiger and rubbed their face in a baby lion’s fur.

Seven - named for the 7 deadly sins. As you can see, he liked attacking furniture.

Yes, there is a tiger trying to eat my pants.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

George - a male lion cub. He was adorable, but man those little teeth are sharp!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zoya & Asia. Can't remember exactly how old they are, but not more than a few weeks. And their eyes reallly were that blue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Me feeding one of the girls. This was before we had to start adding meat to their milk and things got MESSY. P.S. Yes, my hair was that long.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nibbling on my toes.

 

On the other hand, my girls and I adopted a schedule that was very relaxed.  Aside from the holiday meals, I rarely cooked dinner.  Instead, we would eat out or order in, or I would throw together a salad and we’d eat in the family room while watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother.   If I wanted to go to bed at eight o’clock, I did.  If we wanted to stay in our pajamas all day on a lazy Sunday, we did.  Not that my husband would have objected to any of this, but our schedule when he is  home is much more structured.  And while I love all the manly things about my husband, I didn’t miss stepping over his toolboxes or his workboots, or having to constantly remove some grease-covered boat part from where he had left in on the  kitchen counter.

I did notice that my social life suffered quite a bit.  I received fewer invites to house parties, and would frequently have to decline an invitation to a girls’ night out because I was on call to pick up a child from work, play rehearsal, sports, etc.   Then there were the crises that I had to handle on my own, like the frantic phone call I received while on my way home from work, that our dog had been struck by a car (thankfully, he survived).  Or the day my daughter was in a car accident that totaled her father’s Jeep (thankfully, she and the boy who struck her walked away without any injuries).  Or the call I received from my mother-in-law that she had been diagnosed with colon cancer, but she made me promise not to tell my husband until after she had undergone surgery.  Then there was the long, emotional process of our oldest daughter applying to college and choosing where she would go to school.  All of these things were made more stressful for not having my partner there to shoulder some of the burden, and I have an enormous amount of respect for every woman out there who is doing this on her own, every day.

But I also  learned a lot about myself these past six months, most importantly that I appreciate my husband and everything he brings to our lives.   We’ve been together since we were teenagers and he always knows how to make me laugh.  I have a tendency to overreact about the smallest things, and he has the ability to help me put things back  into perspective.   A big trunk arrived yesterday from Afghanistan containing his uniforms and personal items, and he’ll follow in exactly one week.    So our lives will change, but I think the biggest adjustment will be for him, as he realizes that all of his girls have grown a little stronger in his absence.

I’m excited about my May release, Coming Up for Air, which features one of my favorite heroes, Chance Rawlins.  He’s deployed as an Apache helicopter pilot, but the woman he’s crazy about is deployed alongside him.  And he’s about to discover for himself just how strong she is.   I hope you’ll pick up a copy and read their story.   Happy April, and thanks for stopping by!

There are some rare moments when the stars align, the muse cooperates, and the writing goes right. I was on a plane headed toward RWA’s national conference. I had just finished reading a Blaze book–one of Vicki Lewis Thompson’s, I think–and I started to doze. Now it wasn’t Vicki’s book that sent me off into dream land. No, I think it was her hero that had me closing my eyes and thinking about…well, that’s not imp

ortant. Anyway, about two minutes into my fantasy, another idea started scrolling before my closed eyes.

Shared dreams between hero and hero, night after night. Two strangers who share erotic dreams. What exactly would you say to the guy when you saw him in the morning? “Oh hi, studmuffin that I did amazing things with last night. My name’s Christy.” No, that wouldn’t be me. And what would he be thinking as he watched her pin up her hair in the hallway? And how long would it be until one of them confessed the truth?
Let’s just say, I was hooked. I saw Brenda Chin in the hotel lobby about 3 hours later and mentioned the idea to her. She said yes then and there. Woo hoo! It had just gone right! Sadly, the writing wasn’t quite as easy, but that’s typical. But when I turned it in, Brenda told me it was my best book to date. Big woo hoo! Nearly a year later, the book is coming out! Gorgeous cover, isn’t it?

Well, now it’s your turn. Tell me a story of when it went right for you. Doesn’t have to be writing. It could be anything. And the winner gets a copy of In Good Hands, my earlier blaze. Sorry, but you’ll have to buy Night After Night… My author copies aren’t with me at the moment.

I’d never watched the show because I’m a lily-livered wussy.  I’m perfectly willing to own that, but I didn’t want to sit in my room sucking my thumb while my buddies gathered in the sports bar.  I figured I could order a stiff drink and sit on a swivel stool.  When the gore started, I’d turn my back.

Unfortunately for the success of my plan, the sports bar accommodated us in a private room with flat screens ON EVERY FLIPPIN’ WALL.  Yes, I could have left, but by then I’d committed to watching, and let me tell you, peer pressure still works with me.  I ordered an appletini and braced myself.

I made it through, although at one point I had to go fetch the waiter who wasn’t bringing those appletinis fast enough.  Out of the entire show, I probably saw about . . . oh, maybe three minutes, tops.  Staring into my drink didn’t work as well as I’d hoped because I could still hear the screams, groans, and curses – and that was just audience participation from my friends.  On screen the noise was even more horrific.

Now I’m back home where I can reestablish my rainbows and butterflies view of the world.  As I dream up my next Blaze, there’s not a zombie in sight, which is exactly how I like it.  How about you?  Are you feverishly awaiting the third season of The Walking Dead?  Or are you a liver-lilied wussy like me?

into my husband’s car…

and did this.  And then the very next day, my husband drove my car to work and did this…

(He hit a deer. :/  I’m sad to report that the deer did not survive and the jury is still out on our wallet.  =(  )  Also–and this has nothing to do with the car woes, but since I’m whining, anyway–I’ve had a HORRIBLE virus the past few days (one that literally closed our school system city-wide) and have taken so much anti-nausea medicine I think it should be classified as a food group.  I’m getting on a plane this morning and am a bit queasy at the thought.  On the plus side, I’ve lost four pounds. :-) Bright side!

What about you?  Have you ever had one of those months where you just wanted to crawl into a hole with a carton of ice cream, a bag of peanut M&M’s and a gallon-sized fruity alcoholic drink?

Today I want to talk about an affliction I’ll bet ninety-nine percent of us suffer from.  As for you amazing folks who neverprocrastinate, feel free to talk among yourselves.  The rest of you, gather ‘round.

I contend there are two kinds of procrastination. The first one is easy to understand.  We put off doing something because it’s unpleasant, maybe even gross.  Examples are cleaning up dog poop in the back yard or confronting your neighbor about his dog’s poop in your front yard.  The job’s physically or emotionally icky and you don’t want to do it.  End of story.

But what about dragging our heels on a project we actually enjoy?  Most writers I know are guilty of this.  You might not be a writer, but you might be a
scrapbooker, or a photographer, or a knitter. Think about whatever creative pastime you love, but continue to push aside.  Makes no sense, right?  Oh, yes, it does!

Thanks to a wonderful little book called THE WAR OF ART by Steven Pressfield, I get it.  Turns out that making decisions causes stress.  Creative projects are all
about making decisions.  Writers make decisions every second they work, from choosing character traits and plot points to the very words themselves.

Decisions are part of every creative pursuit, whether we’re picking out the decorations and pictures for a scrapbook or the color of yarn for a sweater.  Deep down, we know we’re in for the stress of decision-making so we resist working on the project.

I don’t know if that helps you, but I was so relieved to discover that procrastination is not a character flaw.  It’s natural resistance to the stress of making decisions.  That doesn’t mean we can let procrastination win, or we’ll never have that soul-deep satisfaction of creating something that didn’t exist before.  But at least now I know what I’m up against!

How about you?  What creative project are you putting off?

Happy Birthday, Brenda!  Thanks for all you do to put out great books each month for all of us.  Here’s to a Blazingly good day and a celebration of wonderful you.

And not to beat a dead horse but while Brenda doesn’t seem to age, if  you want to post your favorite beauty secret or product, well, some who shall remain nameless would appreciate it.  Really…it’s not about me…I’d never try to get beauty secrets for myself on Brenda’s special day…but you know, there could be someone out there who needs it….

Or, you can just wish the inestimable Ms. Chin a happy day.

Here’s to ya, Brenda….

That’s my 2012 motto. I figure it’s somewhat appropriate for a romance writer to adopt KISS as their motto. Now for years I’ve heard KISS referred to as Keep It Simple Stupid. Uh, I’m rolling with Sweetie instead.

My goal is simplify, simplify, simplify and that goes hand-in-hand with if it is negative — “it” being people, places. things, or situations, let it go. Hence, my decision to go with Sweetie as opposed to Stupid.

Okay, yeah, I know there’s maybe some eye-rolling going on like, that’s cool Pollyanna but I hate my (circle one or fill in the blank)  boss/job/co-worker/husband/ex-husband/the neighbor whose dog poos on my lawn/_______.  Do the best you can.  Change what you can and let the rest go.

A friend jokingly told me I was a hoarder.  Uh, hardly, but I have noticed a tendency to hang on to things “in case I might need them one day.”  No more.  I’ve culled and cleared quite a bit, trusting that if I need something obscure in the future like the round table with the glass top that I recycled, well, it’ll come back to me.

I figure it’s better to de-clutter my house, my closet, my life, my emotions so I can really enjoy what I have instead of always search through the mess — be it clothes, “friends”, or emotions.

And then there’s the physical aspect of KISS — as a verb, rather than an acronym.  I’m going to KiSS more, both literally and figuratively — whether it’s my dog, my daughter, my family, or my friends.  You just can’t tell people too often that you love them or give a hug or kiss.  Well, actually, I guess there are some instances where you just begin to look like a weirdo if it’s some stranger on the street so you’ll want to employ good sense but for the most part, I’m going to tell and show the folks I love more often that I love them.

In the spirit of KISS, I’d like to say thanks to all of you.  I know some people write for the sake of writing. I write to tell a story.  It’s you, the reader, who makes my circle complete.  So, thank you.  Thanks for reading and loving the Blaze books.  That’s my KISS to you!

Roll on with your day and remember — Keep It Simple Sweetie!!!

Yeah, I love it like that. I’m a traditionalist when it comes to Christmas, and I’m allowed to be, which makes me very lucky. I think about all those who have similar traditions handed down from generation to generation and who treasure those rituals as much as I treasure mine. But they’re employed as a nurse, or a firefighter, or a cop, or a soldier on patrol.

So as I watch my daughter unwrap the special present I found for her months ago and snap a picture of her happy smile, I bless those who are hard at work during the holidays. As I sip cocoa by the fire and gaze at the sparkling tree, I’m aware that the moment is made possible by all those who aren’t celebrating Christmas this morning or couldn’t enjoy Christmas Eve with family because they’re busy tending to the jobs that must be done, no matter what day it is.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Whenever and wherever you’re finally able to enjoy the holiday, have a very Merry Christmas!