Back by Popular Demand…Judi Fennell

February 2nd, 2010

My friend Judi Fennell is just cranking out books and so, as one of my fellow members of the Girlfriends Cyber Circuit (as well as a good friend), she’s back to tell us about her latest novel, Catch of a Lifetime.

Here’s a little bit about the novel:

She’s on a mission to save the planet…

Mermaid Angel Tritone has been researching humans from afar, hoping to find a way to convince them to stop polluting. When she jumps into a boat to escape a shark attack, it’s her chance to pursue her mission, but she has to keep her identity a total secret…

When he finds out what she really is, they’re both in mortal danger…

For Logan Hardington, finding a beautiful woman on his boat is surely not a problem—until he discovers she’s a mermaid, and suddenly his life is on the line…

And plenty of high praise for Judi’s writing:

Fennell’s got detailed worldbuilding, creative secondary characters and an impressive use of mythology in this great read. While this title is part of a series, it works well as a stand-alone. Angel and Logan are both incredibly textured characters.

-RT BookReview Magazine 4 Stars

“Judi Fennell has extraordinary imagination and has certainly used it in creating this exciting and colorful story. Her characters are wonderful.”

Fresh Fiction

“The best blend of both worlds. I… love each and every character in Catch of A Lifetime (and) found (it) well worth diving into.”

Long And Short Reviews 4.5 Books

4 Stars!

Affair de Coeur Magazine

Catch of a Lifetime is a heart warming tale. Ms. Fennell Ms. Fennell has created a delightful world that, I have enjoyed escaping to. It is both dangerous and fun.”

Anna’s Book Blog

JG: Tell me a little about your book.

JF:  Angel Tritone, Mer princess, wants to become the Director of the Mer-Human Coalition that her High Councilman brother, Rod, is putting together. But Rod won’t let Angel even interview for it, so she sets out to prove to him that she can handle herself with Humans.

Sadly, it’s the sharks she can’t handle and when Hammerhead Harry chases her onto a Human boat and she has to hide out (and her tail turns into legs), she decides to use the opportunity for first hand knowledge to strengthen her position.

Logan Hardington wants nothing more than Normal in his life. But with a six year old son he never knew who was suddenly dropped on his doorstep, he’s not quite sure what that is, and figures deep sea fishing with the boy will yield some results.

It does, but not quite the ones he wants. Turns out, his son has hooked a mermaid.

Of course, Logan doesn’t find out Angel is a mermaid until after he and Michael, his son, have both fallen in love with her. Except that a mermaid is as far from Normal as he can get and Logan, who’d run away from the circus as a teen, can’t figure out how to make it Normal and banishes her.

When Michael goes in search of Angel and some hammerheads get involved in the search (hey, it’s a two-fer! Appetizer and a main course!), things get dicey. Toss the biggest sea monstress of all times into the mix, and well, Normal it definitely is not.

JG: Favorite thing about being a writer?

JF:  The blue Disney princess tiara my brother in law got me for Christmas to go with my blue fluffy robe and Hello Kitty slippers. Now all I need is a feather boa.

Seriously, I love everything about being a writer. Even the thirty hour days as deadlines loom. And I’m not a procrastinator!

JG:  Least favorite thing about being a writer?

JF:  Those thirty hour days. It’s a love/hate relationship.

JG:  What is the most interesting thing that’s happened to you since becoming a published author?

JF:  The reader email. As writers, we sit in front of our computers (in the aforementioned fluffy robe and tiara) and take these voices in our head and put them on the screen. Then we round them out with scenes and actions, and pretty it all up with grammar and punctuation and send it off. You never know if it’s good until people actually read it and let you know. So that’s the best part - hearing that they liked it.

JG:  What’s your favorite type of pie?

JF:  Always will be apple. Mine. Thanks to my 9th grade Home Ec teacher, I have a killer recipe. I’ve gotten my kids into the habit of peeling and slicing the apples, so I make the pies more than I used to since they’re labor-intensive. But it’s a nice family time activity and we get to enjoy the fruits (ha!) of our labor.

About The Author:

Judi Fennell has had her nose in a book and her head in some celestial realm all her life, including those early years when her mom would exhort her to “get outside!” instead of watching Bewitched or I Dream of Jeannie on television. So she did–right into Dad’s hammock with her Nancy Drew books.

These days she’s more likely to have her nose in her laptop and her head (and the rest of her body) at her favorite bookstore, but she’s still reading, whether it be her latest manuscript or friends’ books.

A three-time finalist in online contests, Judi has enjoyed the reader feedback she’s received and would love to hear what you think about her Mer series. Check out her website at www.JudiFennell.com for excerpts, reviews and fun pictures from reader and writer conferences, and the chance to “dive in” to her stories.

Contest

To celebrate the release of each of her books, Judi Fennell and the Atlantis Inn (www.AtlantisInn.com) and the Hibiscus House (www.HibiscusHouse.com) bed and breakfasts are raffling off three romantic beach getaway weekends. All information is on Judi’s website, www.JudiFennell.com

Be sure to check out Judi’s other novels in this series, Wild Blue Under and In Over Her Head.

Sourcebooks, Inc. (February, 2010)

ISBN#:9781402224287

Now That I’ve Recovered from the Wild Weekend…

January 23rd, 2010
Last weekend I had the great good fortune to be part of one of the most creative (and fun) book-related events on the planet.

When Kathy Patrick invited me to attend the Pulpwood Queens 10th Annual Girlfriends Weekends, I was thrilled to take her up on the offer. I’d heard it would be an entertaining weekend, but little did I know you really have to live it to know how very much fun it is.

Founder and hostess Kathy Patrick—dressed as Tippi Hendren Barbie (note attacking crows)—with author Melissa Conroy (Little House on the Prairie Barbie)

It was my first time in Texas (apart from flight delays in DFW airport, which definitely don’t count) and what a place in which to be initiated, suthuhn stahl, y’all: Jefferson, Texas, a lovely little town rich in history with a cache of fabulous shops and antiques stores that could keep you busy for weeks (more on that later). The town—affectionately dubbed Mayberry on the Bayou-–boasts a bevy stunning historic homes converted into bed and breakfasts. I enjoyed a delightful stay at the Hale House Inn, thanks to my lovely hosts Timm and Karen Jackson, who provided sumptuous meals each morning for both me and my new author friend Mary Kay Andrews, who is a stitch.

Mary Kay Andrews trying not to spill gumbo on herself

The weekend commenced Thursday evening with an author dinner in which the 30 or so guest authors served and bussed a mouthwatering meal prepared by author chefs Debbie Thornton (Any Blonde Can Cook), Janis Owens (The Cracker Kitchen), and Lynn Frederickson (Lynn’s Specialities of the House). The keynote speaker for the weekend was an author who has held a place in the pantheon of Great Southern Writers, Pat Conroy (The Great Santini, Beach Music, Prince of Tides, South of Broad and others).

me, Pat and Melissa Conroy

me, Pat and Melissa Conroy

Pat has long been one of my favorite authors, and I was hoping to possibly get a glimpse of him maybe from the back row in the auditorium while he spoke to the group on Saturday (it ended up being a lovely little room, no inhospitable auditorium at all). Little did I know that Pat fully intended to get his hands dirty, however, and he did indeed roll up his sleeves, don his apron (signed by all attending authors), and graciously pour wine and serve up gumbo to the Pulpwood Queen Book Club members in attendance.

Prior to our serving the Pulpwood Queens, we got to enjoy the meal ourselves (I’m buying their cookbooks; it was that good), while Pat regaled us with tales of his youth. He’s quite the raconteur, and held all authors—many of whom are highly regarded NY Times bestsellers in their own right—rapt in his spell. Pat had accompanied his sweet daughter Melissa, who has a most charming children’s book out titled Poppy’s Pants.

Meanwhile, having been a waitress in my heyday, I enjoyed taking up the tray again (well, not really a tray, I just carried plates), and was thrilled I didn’t drop food on anyone (college dining hall flashbacks, anyone?). Our evening ended at the bar in town, Skinner’s, a honkey-tonk speakeasy sort of bar you wish every town had (with a fabulous waitress who even remembered my drink two days later!).

Friday we all convened at the visitor’s center for two days of panel discussions led by Kathy and the hilarious and debonair author Robert Leleux with a host of amazingly talented and interesting authors, including: Ad Hudler, John Pritchard, Jamie Ford, River Jordan, Shellie Rushing Tomlinson, Kathi Kamen Goldmark, Sam Barry, Tracy Lea Carnes, Karen Harrington, Kerry Madden, Judy Christie, Mary Kay Andrews, Kathryn Casey, Nicole Seitz, M. L. Malcolm, Lauretta HannonRon HallPatti Callahan HenryJanis Owens,and Hester Bass, among others.

Tracy Lea Carnes (Cougar Barbie) & Mary Kay Andrews (Bitter First Wife Barbie)

Tracy Lea Carnes (Cougar Barbie) & Mary Kay Andrews (Bitter First Wife Barbie)

Friday night was a Happy Birthday Barbie! party, with authors strolling the “catwalk” posing as their favorite Barbie. Mary Kay Andrews dressed as Bitter First Wife Barbie; Ad Hudler was Obsessive Compulsive Ken; I forget the other costumes. Pulpwood Queens’ costumes were incredible–ranging from the Threesome Barbie to a svelte gal doing an exact replica of The Original Barbie. Since Parrot Barbie didn’t seem to be a viable option, I went instead with June Cleaver Barbie. I forgot to pack a dress however, and my signature rubber gloves I take to signings got signed by authors the previous night, so I spent a short while in an amazing vault-from-the-past antiques shop across the street from the visitors center, a store with five city blocks worth of vintage everything. I was able to accessorize after finding a slightly musty black dress, adding in white gloves, a clutch purse and perfect June Cleaver velvet hat (complete with netting) and chandelier earrings, all for under $20. My bargain of the day. I was pressed for time or I’d have spent all week in this store–as I wandered around I found several things that we had in our house growing up–books, toys, even a dress I swear my mother owned. Talk about blast from the past.

Some Wild Pulpwood Barbies

Some Wild Pulpwood Barbies

The Original Barbie (doesn't she look like her?)

The Original Barbie (doesn't she look just like her?!)

Saturday found us back for panel discussions, the first one showcasing an author whose writing informed my own, Elizabeth Berg. Her bestselling novel, Open House, was one of the first books I read after having abandoned reading anything more mentally taxing than People Magazine when my kids were little. She tackles relationships in a very different way than I do in books, but I love how evocative her writing is and that taught me a good lesson in how to write to draw in the reader’s emotions. I was lucky enough to have my picture taken with Ms. Berg before she departed for the airport—a picture I’ll be thrilled to add to the photo album (as soon as I get that copy!).

Pat Conroy spoke to the group during a fabulous locally-catered Texas brisket lunch on Saturday, again holding us all spellbound with his tales. Other compelling speakers of the day included Jamie Ford (Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet), Ad Hudler (Househusband), River Jordan (Saints in Limbo) and the hilarious Shellie Rushing Tomlinson (Suck Your Stomach in and Put Some Color On). I had the pleasure of sharing a delightful lunch with Kathi Kamen Goldmark (founder of the literary rock band the Rock Bottom Remainders and author of My Shoes Keep Walking Back to You) and her new husband Sam Barry (talented and funny harmonica player and author of How to Play the Harmonica: And Other Life Lessons, and also brother of Dave), along with M.L. and Tracy.

During the entire event Pat Conroy was entirely approachable and hugely supportive. He thoughtfully and generously made sure to purchase (and have signed) books from every author in attendance. He was indeed the anti-Diva author, a sheer delight and an example to all authors of how not to let success get to your head.

me, Pat Conroy and Kathy Patrick

me, Pat Conroy and Kathy Patrick

Throughout both days Patti Ramey, a manager with Barnes & Noble in Tyler, TX, worked tirelessly to sell-sell-sell authors’ books to a very enthusiastic and generous audience of Pulpwood Queens, all of whom clearly have a passion and abiding respect for the written word. I don’t think Patti sat down the entire weekend. I enjoyed visiting with her during my frequent forays into the makeshift bookstore for yet one more book acquisition. Later Saturday afternoon, there were also awards handed out to those working hard to advance literacy, and Kathy, so generous in spirit, ensured that local organizations got in on the act by selling concessions to benefit local organizations. Each author supplied a silent auction item, the proceeds of which went toward providing books for the Dolly Parton Imagination Library Project to promote literacy in an area of the country (East Texas) with a high illiteracy rate.

Kathy Patrick really knows how to put on a party. Here's she dressed as a Texas tornado

Kathy Patrick really knows how to put on a party. Here she's dressed as a Texas tornado, and what a force of nature she is. I was blown away but what this Texas tornado was able to put together for the weekend, and the lengths to which she goes to support both authors and literacy projects. She's the real deal.

Saturday night was the infamous Great Big Ball of Hair, with this year’s theme being Over the Rainbow. And what a ball it was…The lengths to which the Pulpwood Queens went to outdo one another in spectacular costuming was mind-boggling. Each time I saw a stunning Wizard of Oz-themed outfit I thought I’d seen the best of them, until I witnessed yet another. One group came garbed in ethereal white gowns as Glinda the good Witches, complete with white wastebasket-turned-jeweled crowns atop their heads, wired with glowing lights. Their coordinated table was topped off with a mojito-flowing fountain (a very popular destination that evening) served in neon-flashing shot glasses. Another group dressed as singing bluebells. Another still, Wizard of Oz in hot pink (and anyone who knows me knows my affinity for all things hot pink, so I did love their costumes). I could even get used to a hot pink flying monkey—far less creepy that way.

I loved these costumes--I mean they found hot pink flying monkey costumes. How clever is that?

I loved these costumes--- they even found hot pink sequined pumps for Dorothy, which I coveted

Are they the most amazing munchkins?

Are they the most amazing and adorable munchkins?

The best costume prize was awarded to a hilarious mother/daughter team who dressed as munchkins and they really could have walked right off the set of the movie, they were so authentic. (Oh, and my costume? I went with the easy-to-pack Judy Garland: the Dark Years and simply tied my hair in a scarf, strung a host of pill bottles around my neck, and sucked on a cigarette holder while toting a wine bottle all night. Judy Garland, Liza Minelli, I felt very interchangeable).

Ad Hudler as the Wizard of Oz (fabulous costume created by his daughter)

I can’t talk about a trip to Jefferson, Texas without mentioning incredible pie. I knew I had to stop on my way out of town Sunday for a slice of the Hamburger Store’s famous pie. I was yearning for something meringue but knew it wouldn’t travel well, so instead opted for triple berry, which was the perfect layover dinner in the Houston airport later that day. Those who know me know I am a pie snob, and I wouldn’t lie and tell you the pie was good if I didn’t believe it. Trust me, the pie alone is worth the trip to Jefferson.

I swear, y’all, I came home with a thicker accent. Having lived in Virginia for more than half my life, I have co-opted the word y’all, much to my kids’ chagrin; but for the most part I don’t usually sound like much of a Southerner. But for one weekend this January, I couldn’t help but feel as if I was part of the Deep South, heritage be damned.

***I had planned to put a whole host more pictures up here (including White Trash Dorothy and Auntie Em, the ethereal Glindas, and more) but I had such problems uploading images that I finally had to give up and leave it as is. Maybe if I have time I’ll try to add some more, but I have many of them posted here if you’re interested (and will put up the rest of them there as soon as I can).

This Little Piggy…

January 20th, 2010

Yup, that's me...

Yup, that

Have you noticed the trend these days to seize upon the January price markdowns to acquire those gifts that somehow failed to show up under the tree on Christmas morning? I know I’ve contemplated it a bit….Kids, too, aren’t immune to this desire—often lobbying for that one little thing that they didn’t receive, even if they got most all they’d wished for.

This year that item is Wii Fit, which didn’t Fit into our holiday budget. All in my family got plenty of lovely gifts, though, so Wii Fit would have to wait for the coffers to be replenished.

At least that’s what I thought until, on the day after Christmas, we visited my brother-in-law’s house and my teens became captivated by their game. Normally, kids being fixated on a video game is reason enough not to purchase it. Who wants their children to be perpetually tuned out, clamoring for the controllers, spending all waking hours in pursuit of mindless video game obsession? But Wii Fit actually has a purpose: to eliminate the sedentary nature of gaming, at least to some degree.

And this piqued my interest: if it could motivate kids to work out, might it also impel slacker middle-aged moms bored with their normal exercise routine to get off their butts and exercise more? So I struck a deal with my kids: since everyone wanted it so badly, we’d split the cost and get one as a post-holiday motivator. Which seemed like a great idea, until my sister-in-law Martha exposed the ugly truth about the game: the game platform—the Wii balance board—is actually a scale. As in: the thing that I’ve been hiding in my closet for years with the notion that out of sight is out of mind and thus can’t be true. Denial thy name is Jenny.

Martha went on to tell me that not only does the balance board accurately and undeniably determine your weight (probably more so than the precise scales they use to glean poundage of each item loaded onto the Space Shuttle), but the higher your BMI (body mass index), the fatter you Wii “Mii” icon gets. Seriously. So to add insult to injury, you have a Tubby Tessa avatar staring back at you from the television screen. Can we get more humiliated? It’s like a chase-me-beat-me workout. Or maybe that hairbrush spanking for getting a D in handwriting in second grade (not that that ever happened, mind you). To me, exercise really should not be mortifying, it should be gratifying. And a public flogging was not what I signed up for.

note skinny kid, wider mother...

note skinny kid, wider mother...

So my grand plans to get on board the Wii Fit train were immediately keboshed. Yet I’d already committed to spending my own cash to help buy the damned thing, which has led to all sorts of scheming on my part to circumvent this unpleasant, uh, shall we say, side effect of the game.

Fortunately necessity is still the mother of invention, especially when it comes to truths about which we choose to remain blissfully ignorant (despite those rotten harbingers of reality that are unavoidable, such as tight jeans). And I’ve got a plan: I’m going to make one of my kids (or perhaps one of my dogs) mount the board in my stead each time I use the game in order to get set up with the dreaded “body test,” and then I will simply ignore the taunting evidence: Wii Fit telling me I’ve got the fitness stamina of a great-grandmother, for instance. I’ll just do my thing, flap my arms, hula my hips, or whatever other silly games they have that will make me actually move, and not worry about the true number of calories burned or exact fitness level.

I felt a reprieve from the guilt when I saw on Twitter a number of other women whose children had gotten Wii Fit for Christmas also trying to figure out how to outwit the scale dilemma. Clearly when evolving Wii Fit Plus into Wii Fit Plus Plus, the Nintendo engineers should consider the vanity of women world-wide and provide a way to turn off the scale temporarily, or at least, as we all do with the elliptical machine at the gym, simply lie and enter in 120 pounds when asked our weight.

Does this diminish the point to the game? Well, sort of. But can it enable me to remain cloaked in ignorance and retain some faux dignity where I so choose? You bet.

Wii Fit? No way! Wii Fat is more like it, at least if the public weigh-in is the only “weigh” to go. And in that case, this little piggy might just go wii wii wii all the way back to the gym, where I can easily lie about my weight when the exercise equipment demands an answer.

Stress Yoga, Anyone?

December 23rd, 2009

This is SO not me LOL

This is SO not me LOL

I’ve always loved to exercise, though unfortunately my lifestyle has not lent itself to nearly the level I once enjoyed, nor the amount I now require, for that matter.

One of the activities I have found most gratifying both physically and mentally is yoga. So much so that for a couple of years I practiced yoga daily. And it was then that I was probably my most chill, as I conditioned my mind to find a quiet center, and so many little life annoyances—traffic, obnoxious people, an out-of-control life–just stopped bothering me.

But as my schedule somehow grew more demanding, yoga became one more added stress in my life—a have-to that I felt guilty if I missed, but anxious if I attended, knowing as I did I was failing to perform some other mandate in its stead.

So while yoga at first presented itself as downright medicinal, it became, well, I don’t want to say toxic, but it became contraindicated. I know, I have people in Yogaville right now wanting to injure me upon reading my suggestion that yoga is anything but peaceful, except that it’s so un-yoga-like to want to injure someone. What I mean by that statement is that yoga became part of my stress. But it wasn’t yoga’s fault! It was all my doing; I was simply incapable of letting yoga do what it was supposed to do: relax me. Instead, my yoga practice became a practice in managing high blood pressure, because the longer I was at yoga, the more I was internally freaking out about what I had to do but wasn’t doing because I was doing what I wanted to do which wasn’t what I should be doing because I needed to be doing other things. Yoga=Peace became Yoga=Internal Strife.

Finally I had to bid farewell to yoga, much to my chagrin. Which of course has caused more stress, which, I know, would be ameliorated by just practicing yoga. But I’m trapped in a Type-A-need-to-earn-money-to-send-my-kids-to-college-and-god-forbid-dream-of-retiring-some-day-without-having-to-hand-out-smiley-face-stickers-at-WalMart-till-I-keel-over vicious cycle, the tail wagging the dog and the dog eating the cat (or in my case, the parrot) and who knows what else.

But I think I have a solution to my quandary that will enable me to return to my practice without feeling one iota of anxiety: Stress yoga! I want to become the Doyenne of Stress Yoga. I will be to yoga what Jane Fonda is to aerobics. Or what the Hamburglar is to McDonalds. You decide.

Now hear me out. For years Hollywood has masterfully hybridized something good-for-you with something usually ludicrous, just to test the limits. In the lingo of L.A., they’ve taken exercise and made it High Concept. For the uninitiated, High Concept is flipping something on its head to make you say “Huh!” Like blending Jane Austen with zombies in a novel (bet you never thought you’d read that one, did you?).

Some of the quirkier Hollywood workout trends? Paddle surfing (canoeing and surfing). Budokon (a fusion of yoga, martial arts and meditation). The Katana sword workout (à la Kill Bill, only with foam swords). Hoopnastics (hula hoop, yoga, ballet and pilates). Boogie Box (hip-hop and kickboxing). Piloxing (pilates and boxing). Or how about Bollylates (Bollywood dancing with Pilates). (I confess, I just made that last one up, but it probably will be a fad soon enough). But Naked Yoga is indeed a reality that could only be gotten away with in Hollywood—with any lesser physiques in attendance, the entire class would have to be conducted blindfolded. Although I would argue that seeing Nicholas Cage engaged in naked yoga is enough to make me run the other direction.

picturing what lies beneath this caped crusader doing yoga scares me

picturing what lies beneath this caped crusader doing yoga scares me

And in a cruel reversal of the trend, someone is making a killing on a new L.A. fitness craze called Celebrity Jogging, which doesn’t involve celebrities jogging, but rather everyday schlubs running from hotspot to hotspot, cameras at the ready, trying to spot celebrities while elevating their heart rates. They should call that the Stalking Workout.

Hollywood types are known for launching all sorts of trends in the name of health and fitness (or at least thinness)—the latest being weeks-long cleanses in which you ingest only a concoction of maple syrup, lemon juice and cayenne pepper. Or vinegar, if you really want to be wild. By comparison my workout will be downright healthful. Besides, you’ve already heard of Power Yoga, right? I’m just taking it one step further.

Stress Yoga might well be my salvation, since I can readily market it to an ever-busier population that just might have no choice but to multi-task being extremely stressed while being centered and ultra-chill. All I need to do is market this class (which is, if nothing else, slightly ironic) to the right people and I’m guaranteed if the power-workout fiends in Los Angeles take to it (and who wouldn’t? Those folks have to be as stressed as they come) I am bound to strike it rich. And if I become rich, then I’ll have time on my hands and voila, I’ll be able to return to yoga, stress-free.

Hey, at least it’s not Naked Hula-Hoop-Swordplay-Hip-Hop-Kickboxing Pilates, right?

Finally! Welcoming Wendy Tokunaga!!

December 14th, 2009

I’ve been remiss in getting my friend Wendy Tokunaga’s guest visit posted up here–tis the season to fail in many to-do’s  I think. But I wanted to be sure you all got to meet Wendy and check out her latest novel, Love in Translation (love the cover!), which I think you will really enjoy (and you should definitely check out Wendy’s totally cool song she wrote and sings about the novel here

Tell me a little about Love in Translation.

After receiving a puzzling phone call and a box full of mysteries, 33-year-old fledgling singer Celeste Duncan is off to Japan to search for a long, lost relative who could hold the key to the identity of the father she never knew. This overwhelming place where nothing is quite as it seems changes Celeste in ways she never expected, leading her to ask: What is the true meaning of family? And what does it mean to discover your own voice?

What got you writing in the genre in which you write?

I started writing fiction after I took a job as a technical writer. Many of my colleagues wrote fiction on the side and I decided to join them. I took a creative writing course at a community college and ended up writing a number of short stories. Eventually I got a few published and then I decided to tackle writing a novel. How hard could that be? Well, after hundreds and hundreds of rejections I finally sold my first novel, which was the fifth one I’d actually written.

What’s your favorite thing about being a writer?

That I get paid for doing something that I love and can devote a good chunk of time to the creative process.

Least favorite thing about being a writer?

Being asked when I’m going to be on Oprah. Thank goodness her show is ending.

What is the most interesting thing that’s happened to you since becoming a published author?

Meeting people who read my books who don’t know me personally.

What’s your favorite type of pie?

My mother’s lemon meringue.

The Lovely Melissa Senate Stops By…

December 2nd, 2009

It seems as if I’ve known Melissa Senate for years—we’ve been on a few of the same online writing groups since we were young and innocent writers…As if we ever were! I’m excited to have her visit today to talk about her newest novel, The Secret of Joy (don’t you love the cover).

Welcome, Melissa! Tell me a little about your book.

A: 28-year-old New Yorker Rebecca Strand is shocked when her dying father confesses a devastating secret: he had affair when Rebecca was a toddler—and a baby he turned his back on at birth. Now, his wish is that the daughter he abandoned, Joy Joyhawk, read the unsent letters he wrote to her every year on her birthday. Determined to fulfill her father’s wish, Rebecca drives to a small town in Maine—against the advice of her lawyer boyfriend who’s sure Joy will be a “disappointing, trashy opportunist” and demand half her father’s fortune. But when hopeful Rebecca knocks on her half-sister’s door, Joy—a separated mother who conducts weekend singles tours out of her orange mini-bus—wants nothing to do with Rebecca or the letters her father wrote to her. Determined to forge some kind of relationship with Joy, Rebecca sticks around, finding unexpected support from Joy’s best clients—the Divorced Ladies Club of Wiscasset—and a sexy carpenter named Theo . . . .

What got you writing in the genre in which you write

A: My voice, and the book inside me for years, was very much chick lit. The timing on the market opening up for it and my sitting down to write my first novel, See Jane Date, was just pure happy luck. As my life—and my writing—has changed, so has the market. I’d say The Secret of Joy is a happy hybrid of chick lit and women’s fiction.

Favorite thing about being a writer?

A: Figuring out how I feel about something via a fictional character. I was inspired to write The Secret of Joy because I didn’t know how I felt about an email I received out of the blue: I think you might be my half sister. I was. Am. I fictionalized the scenario and sent my characters off to help me answer my burning questions. Love that about writing fiction. You can really explore how you feel from the safety of someone else’s life. Well, fictional life.

Least favorite thing about being a writer?

A: When the words won’t come!

What is the most interesting thing that’s happened to you since becoming a published author?

A: Since my debut in 2001, I’ve: been taped for Oprah (but ended up on the cutting room floor), had my debut made into TV movie, gotten married, had baby, gotten divorced and a few more interesting things, but maybe the most unexpected is that there’s a question about me in the 20th Anniversary Edition of Trivial Pursuit: Which 2001 Melissa Senate title attempts to lure young female readers to romance by hearkening back to Dick and Jane. Answer: See Jane Date. That was unexpected!

What’s your favorite type of pie?

A: Pumpkin pie and the season for it is here!! It’s always pumpkin pie season for me, but the best bakeries and restaurants will have it for the next few weeks. Yum.

Welcome Jessica Brody!

November 19th, 2009

Jessica Brody’s back with Love Under Cover, which I know you will love. Her debut novel, The Fidelity Files, a smart, sassy comeuppance to every cheating man out there, has done gangbusters and is in development for a television program, so keep your eyes out for it. The story continues in Love Under Cover:

In her job, she’s an expert on men…

In her own relationship, she doesn’t have a clue.

Boyfriend behaving badly? Suspect your husband of straying? Jennifer Hunter can supply the ultimate test. She runs a company which specializes in conducting fidelity inspections for those who suspect their loved ones are capable of infidelity.

An expert on men, Jennifer can usually tell if they’re single, married or lying… Unfortunately, her new boyfriend, Jamie, is one of the few men that she’s never been able to ‘read.’ Has she finally found the perfect man or is he too good to be true?

A captivating new novel from the bestselling author of The Fidelity Files.

Available November 10, wherever books are sold.

Praise:

Currently in development as a TV series by the executive producer of Crash!

“With a complicated, sympathetic protagonist, worthy stakes and a clever twist on the standard chick lit narrative, Brody will pull readers in from the first page.”

– Publisher’s Weekly

“Those who enjoyed Brody’s debut will be eager to catch up with Jennifer, but newcomers will be intrigued, too…an honest, witty portrayal of modern love.”

- Booklist

“With her usual smart, deft, and witty prose, Brody delves deep into the psychology of a woman who tests the fidelity of strangers for a living but struggles with commitment in her own life.”

- Joanne Rendell, author of Crossing Washington Square and The Professors’ Wives’ Club

Thanks for stopping by, Jessica! Tell me a little about your book.

LOVE UNDER COVER is the compelling story of a woman who runs a “fidelity inspection” agency, hired by suspicious spouses to test the faithfulness of their loved ones. Although at work she may be an expert on men, in her own relationship, she doesn’t have a clue…

What got you writing in the genre in which you write?

Helen Fielding is the reason I’m writing today. When I read Bridget Jones’ Diary back in college, my life changed. It was the first book I’d read for “pleasure” (rather than for a school assignment) in a long time and I’d forgotten how entertaining and fun books could be. I knew right then and there that I wanted to write to entertain people. Just as Helen Fielding had entertained me.

Favorite thing about being a writer?

Pulling your first author copy out of the box.

Least favorite thing about being a writer?

The waiting. It’s brutal . You wait to get published. Then you wait for revision notes. Then you wait for comments on the revisions. Then you wait to see your cover. Then you wait for the book to come out. Then you wait for royalty statements. Then you wait to see if your publisher buys your next book option. Then you start all over again.

What is the most interesting thing that’s happened to you since becoming a published author?

When my first book, The Fidelity Files, came out in France last year, my French publisher actually flew me out to Paris to promote it! It was a dream come true! I speak French almost fluently so I was able to conduct all my interviews in French, which was both nerve wrecking and exciting at the same time. Paris has always held a special place in my heart. I was a French major in college and I lived in Paris my junior abroad. Plus, I spent a month in Paris in 2005 finishing the novel so it was all very magical and kismet to be back there to see it in French book stores!

What’s your favorite type of pie?

Okay, random question! I had to read that twice to make sure my eyes weren’t glazing over. I’ll have to say anything a la mode.

Trailer:

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About the Author:

Jessica Brody graduated from Smith College in Massachusetts with degrees in economics and French. In 2005, she left her job at MGM Studios in Los Angeles to become a full-time freelance writer and producer. Jessica currently lives in Los Angeles, where she is working on her next novel. Visit Jessica’s website at:www.JessicaBrody.com

- Commercial Fiction -November 2009 - St. Martin’s Press

The Karma Club - Young Adult Fiction - April 2010 - Farrar, Straus, Giroux

The Fidelity Files - Commercial Fiction -Available Now! - St. Martin’s Press

______________________________________________________________

Book trailers, reviews, excerpts and more at: www.JessicaBrody.com

Relax Your What?!

October 27th, 2009
Ommmmmm....

Ommmmmm....

Sometimes I’m startled that I am as old as I am. Because despite the maturity that comes with age, I can’t help but occasionally revert back to juvenile middle-school behavior that I’d thought I’d outgrown.

In my attempt to be mature and worldly, I enrolled several years ago in my first yoga class. I needed to learn how to chill out a little bit, and figured being in touch with my inner Zen would help to center my balance, achieve yin-yang, and maybe I’d get a little feng-shui thrown in for good measure.

It was great. First class, I learned my sun salutation, stretched limbs so tight from lack of use that they deserved to snap like tree branches. My teacher, a former type-A New Yorker-turned-Yogaville devotee whose chosen Yoga name, Suraya, more closely resembled that of an Indian guru than someone from the Bronx, was very serene. His soothing voice tranquilized even the tensest of class members: me. In his calm coaxing tone, he encouraged us to rid our minds of any pollutants, to focus on our center, and be at peace within. Fine, I was on the same page at this point. I’d really started feeling that I could change, become a woman unfettered by the stresses of life.

The final fifteen minutes of class were devoted to complete relaxation. Cool, I thought. That is right up my Type-A alley. We all lay on the floor, eyes closed, focused on our own inner universe. The mesmerizing music on the boom box washed over me as Suraya talked us through letting go of whatever tensions remained. He began with the toes, worked his way up ever so gradually to calves, knees, thighs.

And then came the clincher.

“Relax your anal sphincter,” he said, as serious as an executioner, not even remotely cracking a smile.

What? That’s impossible. First of all, It defies the laws of nature. And secondly, even if we could, just think how nasty that would be! We can’t do that, I thought. Like a naughty kindergartener whose head is supposed to be face down on the desk during naptime, I snuck glances all around me. No one but me thought that was the funniest line ever uttered.

I could feel my laughter erupting, and from my unrelaxed belly it rose. I tried desperately to suppress it, but it was of no use. I cackled so loudly that the entire class opened their once-relaxed eyelids and glared directly at me. Even Suraya looked a bit uptight.

As the class drew to a close, the peaceful silence destroyed, I slunk from the room, somewhat embarrassed at my level of immaturity. But I actually felt more relaxed, having belted out a good belly laugh.

Yes, I realize I have gone from middle school to middle age, but isn’t it nice to know that you don’t always have to totally grow up?

Less than five months till Winging It wings into bookstores!

Less than five months till Winging It wings into bookstores!

I’ve Priced Myself Right Out of the Market

October 21st, 2009

***I’m sorry I’ve been absent lately but have been slammed with work and lots of rounds of edits and copy edits etc, so time seems to slip by without my getting to a lot of things these days…I’ll try to be more on top of things and look for a website overhaul soon!

I can no longer afford to be me. At least not the me I wanna be. All those luxuries I’ve added to my life over the years—the highlights, the pedicures, the nice nails–were all rooted in a little dabbling here, some experimenting there. But now they’ve become needs, adding up to more than my limited budget can tolerate.

hair just like mine, only mine was blonde. When I was 12 at least

hair just like mine, only mine was blonde. When I was 12 at least

The hair coloring began innocently enough, ages ago. As I sat with my hair cooking in a bath of chemicals to achieve that “natural” wave my Irish setter-like hair lacked, I stared across the salon as a mousy-haired woman transformed from caterpillar to butterfly with just a bowl of colored paste, a handful of foil, and an skilled hairdresser. While I ended up with yet another bad poodle perm, this woman was leaving the place looking like a million bucks.

“Oooh, I want that,” I told the girl doing my hair, pointing at blondie. I soon “divorced” my stylist in lieu of the one who did good color, and–realizing that God invented hair coloring for a reason–I became a devotee for life (or so I’d hoped). I justified the quarterly expense, because I’d have been paying for the poodle perm anyhow, so I just traded one set of chemical costs for another. But no one told me the older I got the more I’d need to “use.” Yeah, like a junkie with an expensive habit, this four time a year gig needed yet more upkeep. It didn’t help when a drunken guy at a party called me out on my emerging roots while towering over my scalp at the bar, waiting for a drink he clearly didn’t need.

trust me, my poodle perms looked way worse than thistrust me my poodle perms looked wayyy worse than this

“Whatsh with the giraffe look?” he slurred, pointing at the definitive color change at the top of my head as he spat in my direction, unable to control his spittle.

“Um, I think you mean skunk,” I snarled, wishing I had the moxie to toss a drink in his face for his rudeness. Nevertheless, I took the hint: I could no longer conserve cash by holding out on highlights a few extra weeks.

Then came the pedicures, which started innocently enough. And took on a great urgency after considering my husband’s grandmother’s feet. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t recoil in horror just a bit the first time I saw Grandma Jo’s untamed honkers. After regaining my composure, I duly vowed to never neglect my feet till they crusted up and had to be jammed awkwardly into orthopedic shoes like hers. Surely a pedicure could help to maintain them.

Really I was going to use a nice pedi pic but then this was there and how could I not?!

Really I was going to use a nice pedi pic but then this was there and how could I not?!

Little did I know that the older you get the more a regular pedicure is essential for both body and spirit (okay, maybe in a vain and superficial way).

Then came the nail gels, which started innocently enough. A couple of years ago, my daughter tried to quell a nail-biting habit by getting gel nails, which are impossible to bite. When she began sporting attractive fingernails like you’d see on a hand model, I couldn’t stop the nail envy that crept in, because I’d always had weak, wimpy nails. An added bonus? That wonderful nail-tapping ability I was sorely lacking in my life. So I got a little hooked.

Then came the brows (to avoid the brow-less look), which started innocently enough, at the behest of a neighbor. My eyebrows are fair (proof I really was once blonde), and so you can barely see half of them, leaving the other part to look like Hitlerian mustaches perched above each eye. The results of that first brow tint were, uh, eye-opening, like a mini stitch-free face lift. Cue the waxing, which really did become a necessity as my middle-aged vision deteriorated–who can see to tweeze those tiny stray hairs above your eyes if you can’t wear reading glasses? And then my eyebrow expert suggested the eyelash tinting. I was a skeptic. But not keen on mascara. In fact, you know I’ve gone all out if I show up at your event with mascara on. So the idea of dark and luxurious lashes without annoying mascara was very tempting. And wow, what a difference! Is this starting to sound familiar? I won’t even get into the gym habit at this point. Suffice it to say it’s hardly in my limited budget.

I actually have a serious point to convey while poking fun at my vanity. My expensive habits make me especially sad for so many other people, and not because they might soon witness the unadulterated (i.e. more like Grandma Jo) me. But because my costly indulgences are superficial ones. So many others these days who once could afford groceries, mortgages, even health insurance are having to make hard decisions—like whether to “splurge” for food or shelter–in order to keep their lives together. I’ve seen them waiting patiently in line at my church’s food pantry, and lined up for dinner when I’ve helped at the Salvation Army.

So while I hate having to make choices that mean I might not be the me I want to be on the outside, I remain mindful that these are small sacrifices by comparison to many others in these tough economic times.

Of course the hard choice now will be whether I want to more resemble a giraffe, or Grandma Jo. Ugh, do I hafta choose?

Welcome Author Hank Phillippi Ryan

October 5th, 2009

I’m happy to have Hank Phillippi Ryan, and friend and fellow Girlfriends’ Cyber Circuit Author visiting here today to talk about her new book, Air Time, in which star reporter Charlotte (Charlie) McNally enters the glamorous and high-stakes world of high fashion and soon discovers when the purses are fake, the danger is real.

To break her latest big-money blockbuster, Charlotte must go undercover—but what if the bad guys recognize her? This savvy TV journalist must face more than her fear of flying when her inside scoop on designer duplicates suddenly  turns deadly.

Carrying a hidden camera and dressing to deceive, Charlie finds she’s not the only one disguising her identity. Nothing—and no one—is what they seem. And that means nothing—and no one—can be trusted. In her high-risk job and in her suddenly steamy love life, how can she tell the real thing?

Charlie is forced to make some life-changing—and life and death—decisions. With only a split-second to act and with her own life in the balance, Charlie knows if she chooses wrong it will be the last decision she ever makes.

Real-life investigative reporter Hank Phillippi Ryan devises a scheme so timely and innovative you’ll wonder why someone hasn’t tried it. AIR TIME takes you behind the scenes of TV news—and reveals what can happen when a savvy, sexy journalist turns from hard-working reporter into becoming a killer’s target.

“Sassy, fast-paced and appealing. First-class entertainment.”

–author Sue Grafton

“I love this series!”

–author Suzanne Brockmann

“AIR TIME is a fun, fast read with a heroine who’s sexy, stylish, and smart. I loved it.”

–author Nancy Pickard

Hank shared with us an in-depth interview she did recently.

Q: Charlotte (Charlie) McNally is an investigative TV reporter, and so are you! What qualities do you share with Charlie, and how are you different?

A: When my husband talks about Charlie, he calls her “you.” As in—when “you” are held at gunpoint, when you track down the bad guys, when you solve the mystery . . . and I have to remind him, “Sweetheart, it’s fiction. It didn’t really happen.”

Q:  But a couple of things: I’ve been a TV reporter for more than 30 years. (Yes, really.) And so it would be silly, in writing a mystery about TV, not to use my own experiences. Think about it—as a TV reporter, you can never be wrong! Never be one minute late. Never choose the wrong word or miscalculate. You can never have a bad hair day, because it’ll be seen by millions of people! It’s high-stakes and high-stress—literally, people’s lives at stake—and I really wanted to convey that in the books.

And everything that TV people do and say in the books is authentic and genuine. (Of course, Charlie can say things I can’t say, and reveal things I can’t reveal.) We’re both devoted journalists, and over-focused on our jobs.

But Charlotte McNally is different, too. She’s single—I’m happily married. She’s ten years younger than I am, and so is facing different choices and dilemmas. She’s braver than I am, certainly. Funnier. And a much better driver.

Q:  Charlie has some exciting adventures in your mystery series—going undercover, confronting some really bad guys. Tell us about some of your adventures as an investigative reporter.

A:  There’s a huge been-there-done-that element to the books—I’ve wired myself with hidden cameras, confronted corrupt politicians, chased down criminals . . . been in disguise, been stalked, and threatened and had many a door slammed in my face. I’ve had people confess to murder, and others, from prison, insist they were innocent. So when that happens to Charlie, it’s fair to imagine me. Although the plots are completely from my imagination, those are real-life experiences.

Q:  Your job sounds very demanding. How (and when) do you find the time to write? Do you ever take a vacation, and, if so, what do you do with your time off?

A:  Short answer—no. I don’t take vacations anymore. We used to! We love Nevis, a tiny island n the Caribbean with empty white beaches and nothing to do. We love to go to western Massachusetts, to Tanglewood, to go to plays and the symphony and museums. We love to go to Cape Cod, to Truro, to sit on the beach with pals and read, then go out to wonderful dinners. All in the past. Now, I write. And Jonathan lounges in the back yard. Luckily, we have a lovely yard, with a pool and beautiful gardens.

Q:  Charlie is afraid of flying, and the airlines are constantly losing her luggage. When you write in Charlie’s voice about these dilemmas, you sound like you’re writing from experience. Is this true?

A:  Sigh. Yes. I am a luggage-loss magnet. If they can lose my bags, they will. It’s almost funny. Almost. As for fear of flying, yes, I am afraid. (Although not as much has I used to be. I’ve worked very hard and tried a lot of things to get over it.) I was once covering a very bad plane crash, in a major airport, and was in a room with a lot of the bleeding and upset survivors of the crash. I often wonder if that bad energy someone affected me.

Q:  Even though Charlie has a love interest, basically she’s married to her job. You are married to a very successful criminal defense and civil rights attorney. Is it difficult to maintain a balance between the demands of your careers and your relationship, or do your exciting careers help “keep the fire going.”

A:  Fire? Well, hey. We both really respect each other, and we each think the other is really attractive and funny. We each understand when the other is immersed in work—in a story, or a writing a book, or handling a big case. We think each other’s work is fascinating. Jonathan is incredibly patient. An endlessly interesting. It’s wonderful for me to have in-house counsel to make sure my books are authentic when it comes to legal issues—and it’s fun for him to have a writer-wife who had advised him on his dramatic closing arguments.

Q:  Since you write about what you do, do you ever have ethical dilemmas of your profession that cause conflicts between Hank, the author, and Hank, the journalist?

A:  Ah, no. The closest I’ve come to an ethical dilemmas trying to make sure that no one is the books is a representation of a real person. I’m careful about that. There’s no real Franklin. Or Josh. Or Penny. (Is there a real Charlie? Well, that’s possible . . .)

Q:  You have won 26 Emmys and 10 Edward R. Murrow Awards. Tell us about the stories that won a couple of these distinguished awards for you.

A:  Here’s a list! We proved the state’s 911 system was sending emergency responders to the wrong addresses. We found there was not one person of color on the federal jury pools in parts of Massachusetts. We discovered why thousand of people were never called for jury duty. We found there were thousands of warrants for peoples’ arrests that were never served . We found people convicted of drunk driving who were still on the road. We found unsafe big rig trucks on the highways and found they were illegally ignoring the weight limits on the state’s bridges, thereby causing expensive and dangerous damage. We found school buses with massive mechanical problems. We found the unit pricing in stores was completely incorrect. We found unscrupulous mortgage companies luring people into foreclosure. At least four—maybe five?—laws have changed as a result of our stories and people have gotten literally millions in refunds and restitution.

Q:  Tell us about your writing process. Are you a plotter, or do you wing it when writing? Do you work on one book at a time or more?

A:  Such a great question. In PRIME TIME, I totally winged it. I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going, so I just blithely typed away. I typed The End, and then took it to be printed. It was 723 pages long! I had to cut half of it. Yikes.

It was a real editing education but also taught me I needed to be a bit more organized. And a lot tougher as a self-editor. (Now, I outline. Like crazy. My outlines are 60 pages long. I loathe writing them, but I adore it when I’m finished.)

I must say, though, that in writing PRIME TIME with no plan, I surprised even myself. I got about half-way through the book, and realized I’d chosen the wrong bad guy! I literally (as I remember it) sat up in bed, and thought—wait! The person who I thought did it—didn’t!—and it just dawned on me who the real culprit was. It as all I could do not to run downstairs to the computer and see if I was right. The next morning, as I read over my 40,000 words—I barely had to make a change.

The real killer had been lurking in my very own pages—I just hadn’t realized it! Talk about a surprise ending.

And yes, I only work on one book at a time. Well, no, not really. The next book is always forming in my head and just pushing to come out. Sometimes I have to hold it back!.

Q:  In addition to the demands of your two successful careers, you seem to have close friendships with other authors. How do these friendships nurture you?

A:  It’s been a long time since I was the new kid! My paIs in the mystery world have opened doors and shown me the way. I could never have figured out his new world without them.

Q:  Were you always a public person, comfortable in front of the camera and with a microphone in your hand? Or is this a skill you had to develop? How early did you know you wanted to be a TV journalist? When did you have your first inkling you wanted to be an author?

A:  You know, I have a funny juxtaposition of desire to be in the spotlight—and sheer terror of being in the spotlight. I love my job in TV—and have to go live and unrehearsed all the time. Confession: I’m still terrified every time. I want to be perfect, and when you’re on live, you can’t possibly be. That’s one reason why I love investigative reporting—there’s more time to work, and dig, and polish, and produce. It’s like making a little movie, and I can make it as perfect as possible.

My sisters and I used to create shows when we were all young and perform for our parents in our back yard. I did acting in high school and college. I wanted to be a DJ on the radio for a long time!

My mother says she always knew I would be a television reporter—but I think that was just her way of rationalizing that all I did as a pre-teen and teenager was read books and watch TV.

I knew from my first Nancy Drew that I loved mysteries. Nancy was my first best friend—I was a geeky unpopular kid, and it was such a relief to go home and hang out with Nancy. She was smart and made it be okay to be smart. She was confident and inquisitive and resourceful. I loved that.

I got into TV by chance. I had worked as a radio reporter (hired because, as I informed the radio station, they didn’t have any women working there! Hey. It was the seventies.) But after a few years working in Washington D.C. (on Capitol Hill as a legislative aide and then for Rolling Stone Magazine), Rolling Stone closed its Washington office, and I needed a new job.

I went back home to Indianapolis and applied for a job as a TV reporter. It was 1975. I had covered politics in Washington, and the news director of the station figured he could teach me to be a TV reporter. (This was incredibly risky—I had never taken journalism and didn’t know one thing about TV. But I wasn’t afraid—and knew I could do it.)

Problem was, I should have been afraid! I quickly learned I had no idea what I was doing. I went home every night for the first two weeks—sobbing. Because I thought I would never understand it. Soon after—it hit me—oh, I get it! And I have adored it ever since.

When I do seminars and classes, students ask me how I got started. I tell them, I’ll tell you the story, but it won’t work that way anymore!

Q:  Your career in journalism has taken you to several metropolitan areas. Tell us about your odyssey and what brought you ultimately to Boston.

A:  Ah—I worked in television in Indianapolis for a year. As these things sometimes happen, a news director from Atlanta was in town, saw me on TV, and offered me a job in Atlanta. I packed up my stuff, left all my friends and family, and moved to a city where I knew absolutely no one. I stayed there for five years—loved it—and then got the job offer in Boston. Same deal—packed up and started anew. TV is very nomadic—all reporters work to move up the ladder. I’m very happy in Boston!

Q:  Which authors do you admire? What books are on your nightstand to be read? Is your husband a reader? If so, do you have a two-person “book club” where you discuss what you’re reading? If so, what book have you recently discussed?

A: Let’s see: Thomas Wolfe. Tom Wolfe. Mark Helprin. Edith Wharton. I pretty much majored in Shakespeare in college and still love to read the plays. Stephen King. (I called in sick in 1980 so I wouldn’t have to stop reading The Stand. Don’t tell anyone.) In mystery world, Alafair Burke. Julia Spencer-Fleming. Sue Grafton. Margaret Maron. John Lescroart. Michael Connolly. Alex Berenson. Oh, way too many to tell!

Q:  Yes, Jonathan is a big mystery reader! And sometimes we do read together. (We’re reading Girl with the Dragon Tattoo now—but he’s way ahead.) I’m judging books for a contest now—so my TBR pile is stacked with entries! Can’t talk about that right now.

Q:  What do you wish readers knew about you?

A:  I’m a pretty good cook! I love arranging flowers. I’m…nice. I have such a tough persona on TV—I’m always confronting someone, asking tough questions, being just a tad pushy—so people are always surprised to see me smile. I think I’m pretty funny, too . . . but that may be just me.

What would you like to know?

Q: What is your idea of a relaxing day?

A:  A relaxing day? I must say, haven’t had one in a long long time. (I’ve had some very exciting ones, but not relaxing.)

Q:  Let’s see. It would all start with coffee . . . no, wait. The alarm is not set. I can wake up whenever I want, no responsibilities. I smell . . . coffee. My husband comes in and says—amazingly, Starbucks has delivered lattes! Oh, I say, how lovely. We go outside with our lattes and sit at the patio table. There are blueberries and peaches. Our garden is in full bloom, hydrangea, lilies, the first of the dahlias.

A:  We read all the newspapers, and I play with the New York Times crossword puzzle. I remember to check the best-seller list and I’m on it.

Q:  Friends come over, and we loll around the pool, floating on inflatable rafts, and reading our books. We do that for, lets say—all day. (Someone brings lunch, magically, somehow. And someone cleans it up. Somehow.)

A:  Cocktails and appetizers on the patio. A lovely dinner—maybe at our local wonderful restaurant. We think about going to a movie, but decide to watch one on TV instead. I fall asleep in the middle of it, as usual.

Doesn’t that sound nice?

Q:  Tell us about Charlie’s fourth outing, Drive Time, which will be published in February.

A:  Drive Time brings Charlie’s impossible decision. What happens when you get everything you always dreamed of—but it all happens at the same time. And you cannot possibly do it all?

She’s successful at work—so successful she’s offered a wonderful new job. In another city.

Finally, at age 47—she’s successful at love. But if that’s to continue—she can’t leave town.

And it seems, everyone has a secret. And they’re all asking Charlie to keep them. Does she tell? And when? And how does she balance her loyalties to her job and to her personal life?

And as her decisions unfold, parts of her life become dangerous and threatening: Someone dies. And then someone else. And someone she loves is accused of murder. What if that person is guilty? What will that do to her hope and fears.

There’s blackmail. Extortion. Murder. And a deadly scheme so diabolically clever—you’ll wonder why someone hasn’t tried it! (Yes, perhaps I should have chosen a life of crime—well, I guess I did. It’s just fiction!)

Suanne Brockmann says: “I love this series!”

Q:  What is your work in progress?

A:  Balancing my life! Okay, really—I’m working on two other ideas for series . . . but my first love is Charlotte McNally. Will there be more Charlie stories? That depends on you readers! What do you think? Let me know, okay?

Q:  How can readers contact you?

A:  Just go to my website http://www.HankPhillippiRyan.com and click on contact. Your email will come directly to me!

Award-winning investigative reporter Hank Phillippi Ryan is currently on the air at Boston’s NBC affiliate, where she’s broken big stories for the past 22 years.  Her stories have resulted in new laws, people sent to prison, homes removed from foreclosure, and millions of dollars in refunds and restitution for consumers

Along with her 26 Emmys, Hank’s also won dozens of other journalism honors, including 10 Edward R. Murrow Awards, and highest honors from Investigative Reporters and Editors (IRE) and The National Association of Science Writers. Hank’s been a radio reporter, a legislative aide in the United States Senate, and in a two-year stint in Rolling Stone Magazine’s Washington Bureau, worked on the political column “Capitol Chatter” and organized presidential campaign coverage for Hunter S. Thompson. She began her TV career in 1975, anchoring and reporting the news for TV stations in Indianapolis and then Atlanta.

Hank and her husband, a nationally renowned criminal defense and civil rights attorney, live just outside Boston.