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Spring has finally, FINALLY, arrived in Minnesota and stuck. I'm not usually one to complain about the weather - I choose to live here, after all - but this winter, after three that were decidedly wimpy, was downright brutal.

So I was walking my dog earlier this week, and it was perfect as it could be. All the flowering trees are blooming, and the violets are up, purple and white peeking out amongst the green. The warblers - can't identify them, but they're fun to watch - are migrating through, and all the baby geese have hatched, hustling frantically for the safety of the water when the dog and I come around the corner. There's a pond on our walk, and we startled all the turtles sunning themselves on the logs into plopping back into the water. A pure white egret stalked the far shoreline, and the swoop of pileated woodpecker made ME jump. (Those are some big birds!)

There weren't even any mosquitos. THIS, I thought, is why I live here. For days like this.

Until I got home and plucked three ticks off my dog (so much for the Frontline commercials) and two off of me.

I guess nothing's perfect. But it occurred to me that I'd have a very difficult time living somewhere there's NOT four seasons.

My dh's job is such that we could live just about anywhere, if we so chose. He'd go in a heartbeat - he misses the ocean. But I'm pretty firmly planted. I could live a lot of places for six months or a year, and I'd love to do that, but not many permanently. And priority #1 for me is proximity to the people I love - the rest is pretty flexible, though the four seasons is high, and I'd have a terrible time in someplace where it was HOT a good part of the year. I like green, and water. In the best of all possible worlds, I'd live in the mountains, but very close to a major airport. I don't think I'm going to manage that one. Beyond that, I wouldn't like traffic that's much worse than what I already deal with. But that's about it for me.

How about you? If you take jobs out of the equation, what's the most important thing about choosing a place to live for you? What do you like, and not like, about where you are? Where would go if you could go anywhere?

Susie

She's Here!

“She” being my mom, that is. That’s her on the left, with my aunt Marlene behind her. Mom usually comes for a visit from the San Francisco Bay Area once a year, but the past couple of years it’s been a bit different because other family has arrived at the same time. This year it’s just Mom and my little family, which boils down to lots of Mom and me time. Yay!

A friend of mine says that if romance novel heroines had great mothers (like mine) they wouldn’t get themselves into such fixes. That may be true, but then we’d have to read through pages of Mom-preparation instead. I’ve been cleaning and cleaning and cleaning for days. Things that rarely get cleaned. The grate at the bottom of the refrigerator. The highest shelf in the family room that’s even too tall for Surfer Guy (at 6’5”) to reach. Waaay back behind…well, you get the idea.

She flew in yesterday morning and by 3 p.m. we’d already done some errands that I’d been putting off, done some clothes shopping (two cute tops and a necklace, Mom doesn’t like one of the tops, but I did), found beads to repair another top that was missing them, gone out to lunch, and purchased a book I’ve been dying to read (Marsha Moyer's Return of the Stardust Cowgirl).

We’re meeting my niece on Saturday for an all-day shopping safari but today and tomorrow’s agenda is pretty open, except for a birthday dinner on Friday night for Son 2. I know how we’ll fill it…talk. And talk. And talk. Nothing like a mom for listening to all your stories with the proper attentiveness and the proper exclamations. Nothing like a mom for nodding her head when you hash over your concerns for your kids, your wardrobe, or your current manuscript.

So, it’s a couple of weeks after Mother’s Day, but I’m having a long mom’s weekend and enjoying the heck out of myself. (As long as she doesn’t see some of the spots I’ve missed on my cleaning binge.)

Does anyone else have a special visitor that you scrub-a-dub-dub for? Friends of ours often have their priest over for dinner and I cannot imagine what that requires when it comes to dusting and vacuuming. What’s the cleaning chore you put off? I didn’t get to hand-washing all the globes that cover the light fixtures. Shh, don’t tell!

The Winner is...

crystalgb wins an autographed book from Rebecca York. Congrats! Please email Michele at toast faery @ gmail.com with your snailmail address.

Guest: Rebecca York

Please welcome Rebecca York to the convertible today! Rebecca will give away an autographed copy of NEW MOON to one lucky commenter, so do stop back tomorrow to check for the winner's name. Now here's Rebecca....

Whose Fantasy Is This Anyway?

Back in the early 20th century, Sigmund Freud asked his famous question, “What do women want?”

Judging from my spam folder, I think guys are still trying to figure that out.

Penis enlargement is the–um–big thing. All you need is a super-sized tool, and the women will fall all over themselves to go to bed with you. Of course, I keep wondering how you’re supposed to reveal this piece of equipment to get her interested. Flash her at the office or on a bus?

Guys are preoccupied with size. And volume, apparently. How about THIS ad?

“Did you know that a recent survey showed that 85% of women actually get aroused by a man who produces ‘above average’ semen amounts? With our pills, she’ll be speechless… and definitely coming back for more…”

Yeah, she’ll be speechless, all right–when he floods her out of the bed.

Okay, I realize I’m getting a little gross here. And I also realize these ads play to male fantasies and vulnerabilities. It’s easy to satisfy your sweetie. You don’t have to be good at conversation, dancing or foreplay. Flowers, candy, and Champagne? A tender show of emotion?

Forget all that. You’ve got everything you need right in your magic wand. The bigger the better.
Any man who bothered to sit down and read a romance novel would find out very quickly that semen is pretty far down the list of what turns a woman on. Really, how many love scenes have you read where the guy erupts like Mt. Vesuvius? Or love scenes that get around to cleaning up after sex? Not many. Of course, a big tool can be a turn-on. But it’s not the be all and end all of sex. Just pointing that Maypole at her, then stuffing it into “slot B,” isn’t going to do the trick, because a woman needs her partner to turn her on before they get to intercourse. Remember that famous line from SEX AND THE CITY, delivered after a particularly disastrous sexual encounter: “Do you know what a clitoris is?”

Romance novels make it pretty clear what women want. We’re looking for a man who focuses his attention on his woman. Who charms her with his witty dialogue, then slowly and skillfully uses his hands and mouth to bring her to a tingling level of arousal before he . . . .

Well, you get the idea.

I enjoy writing love scenes where a man and a woman give each other pleasure. And when I’m in the middle of one, I’m as focused on the emotions of my hero and heroine as I am on the physical descriptions. The emotions of these two people and the building arousal reinforce each other to give the scene a depth that most male writers can’t achieve.

There are a few men who can do it, though. One guy who “gets it” is Ken Follett. In fact, he was actually one of my role models. When I read THE KEY TO REBECCA, my reaction was, “THAT’S what I want to write–two people falling in love against a background of suspense and danger.”

The hero and heroine may start off lusting after each other. They may jump into bed for the fun of it. But they end up committed to each other–body, mind, and soul.

Since I write romantic thrillers, I know my plot is going to drag my hero and heroine to hell and back. But I also know I’m going to reward them with a long, happy life together. And a fantastic sexual relationship is always part of the package.

To bring us around to the paranormal, that’s one of the reasons I got into werewolves. I love writing about the men in the Marshall family–my strong, sexy alpha male shape-shifters.

They enjoy sex on a very basic, very animal level. But when each of them finds his lifemate, the sex between them is mind-blowing–and a strong part of the bond they forge. In my latest book, GHOST MOON, even when Caleb Marshall is a ghost, he’s using sensuality to reach out to my heroine, Quinn, because he longs for a physical connection with her.

Sex is always integral to my stories. But sex in the context of a relationship where each partner takes pleasure in pleasing the other.

That’s what I’d like guys to take away from my books.

What do you want from your fantasy lover? And from the romances you read?

Rebecca
www.rebeccayork.com

Grown-Up Guys. . . who needs 'em?

Betina here. The list of
18 Things A Grown Man Should Never Have
was published on MSN the other day. It read like this:

1. a black eye (a real man is smart enough to talk himself out of any fight he's going to lose)
2. a witty e-mail signature (quotes and song lyrics, etc)
3. an empty refrigerator
4. PlayStation thumb (calluses or button shaped bruises)
5. a key chain bottle opener
6. a lucky shirt (every shirt is lucky for a man who knows that the harder he works the luckier he'll be)
7. an unstamped passport
8. Olympic dreams (except in curling or archery)
9. less than $20 in his wallet (a real man always carries enough dough to pick up coffee, bagels, and a Sunday paper without whipping out the plastic)
10. a name for his penis (ahem)
11. any beer that costs less than $20 a case
12. the need to quote The Big Lebowsky, Caddyshack, Stripes, or Superbad (reciting someone else's lines reminds people that you don't have the wits to make up your own)
13. a futon for a sofa (Never in the history of sex has a woman cried out: "Take me on your futon!")
14. code words for ugly women
15. a nerf hoop in the living room
16. a secret handshake
17. drinking glasses with logos (especially those with McDonald's characters!)
18. A recent story with the phrase "So I said to the cop. . ."

A fairly entertaining list. Thanks MSN. Did you find yourself taking inventory of the men in your life? And did they have a few of the things on the "forbidden" list?

Personally I felt like there were a few things I could let slide. The black eye thing might indicate a fight in a good cause. . . like the safety of self and female companion. In which case, the black eye would be a badge of honor. Have you ever read a hero who got a black eye? Ever written one? Think of Indiana Jones or John McClain in the Die Hard franchise. I rest my case.

An unstamped passport? Hey, a lot of countries don't regularly stamp passports anymore. I had to stand in a special line and ASK for a stamp on my passport that last time I was overseas. Not a particularly manly thing to do.

And of course, the Olympic dreams thing. Personally I don't think we need to knock a man's dreams, no matter how juvenile or out of reach they seem. They're his own private business. . . unless he's living in his parents' basement at thirty-five, still "training for the bobsled" as a full time job.

But there were a number of things that got left off the list. . . because they feared offending much of their readership. . . because everybody in the office had a different idea of what should be included. . . and because 6732 Things A Grown Man Should Not Have might have sounded a little excessive. I do, however, feel the need to point out a few glaring omissions:

1. toenails on the bathroom floor, bedroom carpet, or (shudder) in front of any TV.
2. posters of women with D cups scotch taped to the walls
3. a wooden paddle hanging on the wall. . . emblazoned with a college crest or Greek letters
4. soda cans or fast good bags filling the foot wells of the rear seat of the car
5. any athletic department t-shirt with more than three holes
6. tighty-whiteys with some parts (a-hem) not quite so tidy or whitey.
7. a beer can collection displayed in any room above ground.
8. visible nose hair (I have it on good authority that this is why God made mirrors.)
9. a name for his wife's or girlfriend's vagina
10. Penthouse, Hustler, or Playboy subscriptions
11. only one set of sheets. . . which have been on the bed since they delivered the mattress (just, ewwww.)
12. an air freshener tree hanging from his rear-view mirror
13. chains attaching his wallet to his pants
14. a subwoofer in his car that rattles fillings out of teeth
15. guns that get cleaned more regularly than his bathtub
16. more than two pizza places on speed dial
17. athletic shoes more than ten years old
18. pictures of old girlfriends in his wallet
19. pink socks and underwear (or bluish ones, as the case may be)
20. more video games than books
21. little black books with ratings or "user comments,"
whether in hard copy or on a computer.
22. a mother who still does his laundry (or other household chores) for him
(yes, Henry David Thoreau, I'm talkin' 'bout you!)

Yeah, it's probably true that my additions reflect my own values and prejudices about what makes a man mature and worthy of respect. I'm sure yours do too.

So let's hear em! What do you think guys need to grow past? What irks you to see or experience in a grown man? And to be fair, we'll have to do this with women someday, too.

Debra- The Art of Rejection

None of us like rejection. One of my favorites was the time my editor rejected something because it just wasn't Debra Dixon enough.

That's enough to make you go bang your head into a wall.

Another head-banger is the ubiquitous "not right for our list at this time."

Writers slave alone in a room for the most part. Feedback is critical to the process. Feedback assures you that you've made contact with the outside world and, if you're lucky, gives you a springboard from which to jump back into the fray with a stronger manuscript.

These days the rejection shoe is on the other foot because of my expanded role into the editorial side of Bell Bridge's horror/fantasy list. I'm the one sending rejections (instead of getting them) and sending the occasional request for more of a writer's work. This is why I'm pondering the art of rejection. Mostly I've concluded that I should apologize to every editor who's used that "not right for us" line. Never was a truer cliche created.

There is rarely enough time to give any rejected unsolicited submission a proper critique. Often the work is so obviously not right for us that saying anything else might send a writer into a rewriting frenzy with no guarantee that the rewrite will make the book any more marketable.

I've noticed writers have a very flexible idea of whether their work is right for a publishing house. "You want demons? Let me slap a demon in this title and send that sucker in!" Uh...no. But in rejecting the writer, I don't have time to point out the obvious (that I'm not stupid and they'll be published sooner if they work smarter). The time I have should be spent on writers who are right for our publishing house, who have had work requested, who might come through with a revision that can work for us. So, my rejections are normally a couple of lines.

"We appreciate the opportunity to look at your work. Unfortunately, your manuscript isn't right for our list at this time."

But the writer in me wants to say more. The common sense portion of my brain is screaming that I only have so much time in the day to give. I compromise and add that third or forth line giving more guidance as to why the project isn't working for us or at all. But only occasionally.

What's your best rejection? Your worst? Do you think it's best to say nothing rather than something brief which can be only the tip of the iceberg and ignore the more serious problems?

We're Celebrating ... Our Readers!!

It's hard to believe but Riding with the Top Down is celebrating its two YEAR anniversary this June. AND we've reached the 100,000 visitor point in mid-May.

One of those milestones alone is sufficient reason to kick up the heels or grin up a storm like this little guy, so we're doing some special stuff to thank our readers the first couple weeks of June.

To kick it off, on June 2nd, when Christie blogs, the Riders will be giving away a $100 gift certificate for Barnes & Noble to one lucky visitor. So make sure you stop by and say hello!

And then for the next two weeks, each Rider is going to give away something special of her choosing on her blog day.

All this to say THANK YOU to our wonderful readers.

We love you guys!!

Helen

WIN!

Lois Greiman

Hey! I have a new book coming out! Scheduled to hit the shelves on May 27th, it's the first in my Witches of Mayfair series, a trilogy about a coven of government witches in Regency England. Weird, yup, I know, but Under Your Spell garnered a Top Pick! from RT and a "spellbinding" from Lifetimetv.com, so I don't think it's a horrible novel. :) Anyway...in honor of Elegance St. James, my new favorite witch, I'm giving away a hot-off-the-presses copy. If you'd like to snag one please email me at lgreiman@earthlink.net. I'll throw your name in a hat and post the winner on this blog next Saturday along with another contest. So stay tuned and thanks for your support.


www.loisgreiman.com

It's Michele's Fault!

Okay. You can blame Michele for this. Her blog yesterday on her ‘green’ things got me all wound up and appreciating the beautiful flowers and birds I’ve been enjoying from my office window this spring. And since I’m in the process of writing the third of three back to back books, I’m spending a lot of time in my office these days.

Now, so you don’t get the idea that because I’m waxing soft and poetic over feathers and blooms, I want you to know that I wrote an abduction scene and edited a bombing extravaganza while watching this Baltimore Oriole sip grape jelly from the jar lid that I duct-taped (Yes, duct taped. I, too, was a McGyver fan) to my shepherd’s hook which stands 6 feet from my west window.

And the red-breasted gross beak on the little cabin feeder? I wrote a really hot love scene the day he showed up. Hey, you take your inspiration where ever you find it, right? And this pretty boy was hot! (Did that sound wrong?)

Anyway, because I'm up to my eyeballs in this @#$#$@$ deadline, I'm making this short and sweet and going 'the picture is worth a thousand words' thingy.
Enjoy the photos of my heirloom African Violets (I raised them from leaves from my mother's and my aunt's plants), our flowering crab, the red bud, and my favorite, the bleeding hearts. Have you ever seen anything so perfect?




























So, aside from the plant discussion yesterday, what are your favorite spring blossoms? Spring birds? And should I be living in fear that I'll become a crazy old flower watering, bird feeding, cat petting woman who will be content to spend my days watering, feeding, petting and blowing up embassies on paper while life goes on outside my window? Seriously, these are questions I ponder...

A little bit green, but mostly brown.

Well, I think it's official. I do believe Spring has finally settled upon Minnesota. The yard is green, yet even though it was in the high sixties today, the air was still chilly. I've been staring out the window like a kid on a rainy day who just got a new bike. I want to start playing with my plants!
I jumped the gun last week. Put out a few plants that I took in last fall. Bad idea. Two didn't make it. I only plant succulents, and those are some touchy plants. Why do I plant them when I live in the chilly North? I know, it's kinda silly. These kinds of plants belong in Arizona or California. But they are so unique and varied and just plain interesting to look at. Oh, how I envy those who live in the desert states and can have yards filled with succulents.
Anyway, I started digging around in the garden today. Did I mention my garden is a foot and a half in diameter? I do miniature gardening. I do have a strip along the south side of the house too, about five feet wide by fifteen feet long.That's as green as my thumb gets. You can see I tugged out all the old dead stuff and it's looking pretty bleak. I even took out the gate (guarded by gargoyles) and think I may have to redirect the shell path (just for something new). Last summer I had a tree in the front yard and a nice little shrub by the house. Not sure what I'll do this year. But certainly I want to please the (faery) residents. :-)  Okay, here's the after pic; but it was really from last year, which makes it before, but—well, you get the idea.

I took in about two dozen plants last fall. Most succulents don't survive in below forty degree weather, though the hardier sempervivum (hens and chicks; cats and kittens) like the cold and come back like crazy every year after a nice blanket of snow. I lost about a third of the rescued plants. Hey, did I mention I'm no green thumb? I don't know how much to water these things, and I think they usually die of overwatering because winter is their dormant time (for most; some tricky ones grow in the winter). But seriously, if they got watered a half dozen times through the winter, that was good.

This little fellow survived, I'm pleased to say. It's some kind of aloe. He stretched out his arms over winter; he'll snap them up tighter during the summer. Don't ask why. I don't know why, but it's cool to watch.

And here's my latest find. Some kind of swirly, curly, twirly thing. It's a kind of grass, and I'm hoping it stays twisty.



So what about you? Got a green thumb? Or slightly brown, like mine? Do you garden a very specific kind of plant (succulents, roses, all greens)? Let's talk plants!

Michele