Name and Win!

Lois Greiman



Okay, Christmas is almost here. I’ve not bought a single gift or put so much as one lonely candle on the mantle. And…I have a ton of work to do in short order. Not that that’s bad news. In this economy, it’s great just to be employed and even better to be doing something you love. So I’m thrilled to announce that Harper Collins has contracted me for two more historical romance novels.

The problem is the first book is due in four months and I don’t have a decent title. So I’m having a little contest. It’s called…Name That Book Before I Lose My Mind, Please.

Let me tell you a little about the series:

The Witches of Mayfair books are about a coven of government witches who live in Lavender House in London. It’s set in the Regency era and each book features one of the witchy women of a secret organization called Les Chausettes. The first book is called Under Your Spell, released May 2008. The second is titled Seduced By Your Spell, released Feb, 2009. And the third is known as…Book 3.

See the problem? I suggested calling this one Bound By Your Spell, but my editor thought that sounded too S&M. I told her I didn’t necessarily see a problem with that J but she was neither amused not inspired, so I’m back to the drawing board.

I’ll summarize a bit. Story three is about the youngest of the Chausettes, a little pixie-like creature called Faery Fay who’s had a traumatic past. Because of that, she’s frightened of men, but now, after three years at Lavender House, she’s determined to prove herself by taking on a mission involving dying nobility. Enter a wounded Highland warrior who is terribly out of place in posh Regency society and who seems to be the culprit and voila! you have yourself a bona fide plot. Okay, maybe you only have a premise. But that’s what I’m working with--a fragile, little witch with growing powers and a burly Scotsmen who has a few secrets of his own.

So…what’s the title? I can’t decide, but I think the word ‘spell’ should be in there somewhere. Here are a few ideas:

1. Saved By Your Spell
2. Bewitched By Your Spell
3. Spellbound
4. My Lady’s Spell

I’m giving away a copy of Under Your Spell and an ARC of Seduced By Your Spell to one commenter who is kind enough to vote…or…even better…who comes up with a new title. So please, let your imaginations roam.

And happy holidays everyone!!

www.loisgreiman.com

Cynthia Eden winner announced!!

Congratulations to "Saturnmoonie" for winning a copy of MIDNIGHT SINS!

Please email your snail address to BelleBooks AT BelleBooks . com (no spaces and use an @)

--Debra

Did You Win Eloisa's Book?

Yes, you did, if you are commenter:

Virginia
Peggy
Jane
Robynl
Nikki

Please e-mail me at christie@christieridgway.com with your snail mail addy. I'll pass it along to Eloisa so she can send along your prize. Congratulations!

Giveaway crazy!

Heads up! In December the Riders have planned a 12 Days of Christmas Giveaway bonanza! All 10 Riders will be blogging regularly, but will also have a prize to give away on their blog day. That leaves two more days to complete the 12 days. One will be just for Followers! But fear not, you Non-Followers will have your day, too.

So stop by every day in December and see what fun stuff we have for you!

Christie's Thanksgiving Report

It's just after 6:00 am where I am. The cat wanted breakfast and so I'm up. It's pouring rain here in SoCal, and for that I'm thankful. One brother (mine) and family arrived last night and the dinner I made for all was delicious. For that I'm thankful. Oh, and that the cut on my left thumb did not mean a trip to the emergency room and that we found out Son 2 does not faint at the sight of blood and can apply bandaging quite well. The smaller cut on the web of my right pinkie (from the foil around the cork of a bottle of wine) hardly needed a bandage at all--and for that I'm thankful as well.

Second brother (Surfer Guy's) and family will arrive this morning. We have the traditional T-Day movie picked out, "Quantum Force" a choice which was approved by all--thankful for that too. Now I just have to get that turkey in the oven and turn off my brain so it doesn't create images of a mummifying bird (or worse) while we're gone. We'll be 12 at the table tonight, or maybe 14, because we have a couple of maybe-shows. No matter, as the food is plenty and the company welcoming! For that I'm truly thankful.

And this moment...oh, everybody, I wish you were here with me. The house is quiet as everyone else is still asleep. It's dark and rainy outside. I'm on the couch downstairs, using the laptop. And the cat, Goblin, (remember that stray we recently adopted?) is lying next to me. She's fallen back to sleep too, but she has one paw on my forearm, just touching me there as I type. I think she's very thankful right now too. Though I know this moment of pre-holiday excitement is fleeting, it only makes it more precious and wonderful. Just as precious and wonderful as a few hours from now when the boys will be playing video games and the men will be drinking beer and the women and girls will be gathered in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal and planning the Friday shopping (okay, yeah, the females do most of the food prep, but the guys have ALL the clean-up).

My day is shaping up very happy...thank you for your part in it! Writing this post gave me a moment to breathe and think and appreciate.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Add your own holiday report or just take a silent moment to be thankful for the good and simple things.

Being Thankful - Guest Cynthia Eden (Win a Book!)

Hi, everyone! I’m very excited to be guest posting at Riding With the Top Down—convertible ladies, thank you!

Wow. I’ve got to say, I’m just in a very thankful mood today. Thanksgiving (for those in the U.S.) will be here VERY soon, and I guess my mind is focused on all the great things I have to appreciate. Like my son, my husband, my home…and my books. Oh, yes. You see, I am very, very grateful for my books.

Books have gotten me through lonely days. Through sad days. Through days that never seem to end--and even those days in-between. So, today, I thought I’d do a little post about why I am thankful to read (and write!) romance novels.

I’m thankful for romance novels because…

1. In real-life, if I had an alpha hero for a husband, I might go crazy. But I can read about those guys all day long and keep a big smile on my face.

2. I would make a TERRIBLE kick-ass heroine. The sight of blood makes me nauseous. But, hey, when I open a romance with a heroine who knows how to knock out the bad guys, I get to pretend—for a few hours—that I could take ‘em down, too.

3. I don’t have to settle for just one man. Seriously—I have a thousand (no joke) romance novels on my shelves. I’ve enjoyed a thousand heroes. Could NOT do that in real life. Not without being the topic of some serious gossip in my city.

4. In my everyday life, I don’t run across medieval knights, dragon shifters, all powerful demons, and angst-filled vampires. If only…Good thing I get to read about them, and write about them, in my books.

5. Romance novels let me get lost in a new life. Sure, that life might involve demons and murder, like my soon-to-be released paranormal, MIDNIGHT SINS, but that adventure is exciting. When I’m writing about a succubus and the detective who thinks she’s a murderer, I have so much fun as I work at the job I love. Doesn’t get better than that. No way.

6. I’m pretty much guaranteed a happy ending in my books. Real-life—um, not so much.

7. When I write, I can create the perfect hero (perfect to me, anyway). I can control him, 24/7. Such a sweet deal. No back-talk, and the guy always thinks I’m a genius, because, well, I’m writing him.

8. Every time I read a romance novel, I remember what it’s like to fall in love.

But what about you? What are you thankful for? Or, if you’re like me, why do you enjoy romance novels so much? Leave me a comment and you could win an autographed copy of MIDNIGHT SINS, my paranormal romance from Kensington Brava . (I like to think of this book as Basic Instinct meets The X-Files.)

Thanks again for having me here, ladies! Happy Thanksgiving!

Cynthia Eden

http://www.cynthiaeden.com/

MIDNIGHT SINS—Available 11/25/08 from Kensington Brava

Let your inner demon out…

Giving thanks for the power to amaze

Let’s face it. The word ‘amazed’ is often over used. “I’m amazed I finished my book.” No, I’m not. I knew I was going to do it because I HAD to do it. Another standby: “I’m amazed that I ate the whole thing!” Actually that wasn’t so amazing either. It was good. It was there. I ate it. All of it.

The point I’m trying to make is that it really isn’t often that an act or an event justifies the use of the word ‘amazed’. But I heard a story on the news the other day that touched me and made me feel all warm and fuzzy and … well … amazed. Bear with me, here goes.

This couple was traveling in their RV in the Midwest, heading north. They stopped at a truck stop for a bite to eat and when the woman got out of the RV, she spotted a monarch butterfly on the pavement. One of its wings was broken. She was so touched by the plight of the butterfly that she carefully picked it up and carried it back into the RV. She and her husband got on the Internet and did a little research and low and behold, they discovered a method of fixing a broken butterfly wing. So they did it. They mended the wing.
They got to talking with a cross country truck driver who was going south and asked him if he would take the butterfly with him to Florida. He very willingly agreed and set out on his way with the butterfly. Once there, as promised, he released the Monarch, which promptly flew away and then he called the couple in the RV and let them know that his delicate cargo had made the trip and was doing fine.

Amazing, right? An amazing act of compassion. An amazing act of kindness. Absolutely amazing that three people would go to such lengths and extremes for the sake of a tiny little butterfly that could have ended up just another bug on the highway.

I am so thankful to live in a country where there are people who would mend a broken butterfly wing and people who would transport a butterfly in an 18 wheeler clear across the United States just so it could finish its migration. Those acts are true reflections of the American spirit and generosity. It’s those same types of people who dig into their pockets and their hearts to help earthquake and flood victims and stock local food pantries and volunteer at hospitals and give to animal shelters. Those same people pull tags off Angel trees at Christmas and buy gifts for children they don’t know, or send care packages to our deployed troops – again, who they don’t know - so they’ll know someone back home appreciates what they do.

In short, I’m thankful that this world still has the power to amaze me – in good ways. In ways that justify the word to the deed. How about you? Have you been amazed recently? I really want to hear about it. And in the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Thanksgiving Traditions

Everyone has favorite holidays. Mine are usually the ones involving presents ☺ Glittery, expensive presents! But there’s something about Thanksgiving that has always appealed to me, even when I was a kid, and that’s the time spent with family.

I love everything about the holiday. The smells, the preparations, the food…but mostly I love being surrounded by loved ones the entire day (or if I’m lucky, for several days.)

When I was a kid we’d go to my grandparents, about fifty miles away. They lived in this little two bedroom house that would be jammed with all my cousins, aunts and uncles. I don’t recall a thing about the food in those days, just the smells, the crowd and spending time with cousins I only got to see on holidays.

When I got married, we shifted to spending time at my parents or my husbands’. Again we were surrounded by brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews. And it was my kids who looked forward to spending time with their cousins.

For the last several years Thanksgiving has been at my house. My in-laws and my dad and sister come and whichever of my husband’s siblings / kids who choose to. We usually have a few friends of my kids in and out all day. The house is filled with people, babies and dogs (which I could do without!) But my family is up to 13 these days so the house is overflowing for a few days.

And then there are the crazy traditions that my kids started for each special day. The thing I discovered raising four sons is that they never outgrow games. They have turned Thanksgiving into a ‘bowling holiday’. Which means in the evening after dishes we trail down to the bowling alley for a howling good time.

Which brings us to the day after Thanksgiving, the real highlight of our Thanksgiving weekend. Because my kids are sports fanatics, every holiday has to include some sort of athletics. The Friday after Thanksgiving is the annual Stud Bowl ☺ Seriously. All my sons’ friends who are home visiting (and occasionally my daughter) have a football game in the lot across the street. They even don their old high school jerseys and rag tag clothing and go out to relive the glories of their youth. It usually ends with the twenty-somethings groaning about being too old for that kind of thing, and the parents exchanging knowing looks about what’s to come if they think they’re hurting now! Later both teams trail back to our place where I’ll have several kinds of soup waiting.

That’s what I love about the holiday. A house full of people, a constant stream of visitors and hilarious times. The dogs I can do without. But that’s another post!

It seems like everything in our lives evolves in stages. What are your traditions for the holidays? Has your family come up with new customs that have become part of your yearly celebration?

Twilight. . . the Experience.

Okay, I admit it: I saw Twilight on the first night it was out. But in my defense, I see most movies on their first night. I was very curious about the phenomenon that spawned the movie and how the movie might live up to the hype surrounding this bestselling series. I am sad to report, I was not impressed or engaged.

Not much about this movie drew me in. . . not the characters, not the plot (which by ordinary movie standards was abysmally predictable), nor the special effects. But the experience of viewing was probably made worse by the reaction of my fellow movie-goers. . . many of whom were young girls and had obviously read the books. They laughed wildly at places in the movie that were not especially funny, making me wonder what I'd missed. It was clear that their reaction was an alchemy of the reader's experience AND the movie-viewer's experience. Judging from their reaction, they generally loved it.

Not to be a party pooper, but I think this film had the same problems all romances brought to the screen have. It's hard to appreciate a very "emotional" story without access to the inner workings of the characters. It's hard to provide that access adequately on film; directors who can do it are amazing and very rare. The rest substitute long "meaningful" silences and moody stares and angst-filled expressions for feelings that could/should be better portrayed.

Just because it's seen as a "young adult" story doesn't mean it shouldn't be treated seriously-- which is very different from trying to make it "serious." The director here seems to have confused the two. Adults by the hundreds of thousands had read and enjoyed these books, but I doubt they'll enjoy the movie the same way. Comparisons to the Harry Potter series and movies are natural; audiences found the HP movies dead on and fascinating in their faithfulness to the descriptions and the characterizations. Why couldn't this movie have been as good?

Add to this, the very strange hairdo's and ultra-serious expressions of those who are undead and the inexplicable (largely unexplained) reaction of Edward toward Bella. . . the nose holding, scowling, and avoidance. . . and you have unintentionally comic elements that undercut the story. It plays out more like a high school play with inside jokes than a real drama.

It would have made a lot more sense to me if there was an explanation for Edward's overwhelming reaction to Bella, like: vampires can have one and only one mate and recognize them by their smell, or there is a bonding rage at a certain age, or even that Bella smells familiar to him-- like someone he loved in his human days and lost. As it is, we're stuck with an fantastically potent attraction that is somewhat mystifying. Is he crazy about her just because she smells TASTY? Ewwww. Not having read the books, this was the only conclusion I could draw.

What did you think of the movie? What about the characters in the books made them so compelling for people? I can't help thinking now it's just nostalgia for teenage angst. And wouldn't nearly 100 years of teenage angst have matured Edward past that?

Wouldn't the moviemakers have been smarter to focus on the larger ideas that are at the center of human life-- the search for truth, for honor, for belonging-- truly heroic stuff that may have been present in the books, but somehow didn't make it into the movie.

Will somebody who's read the books and seen the movie respond with a critique, too? Enlighten us!

Debra - What I require in a friend...

I watched Grey's Anatomy tonight (which I love) and realized that I absolutely hate people that make stupid choices.

I don't mean unfortunate fashion choices. I mean the kind of choices which will never end well. The kind of choice in which the character even has a moment to reflect about how "not well" this will end and then makes the choice to do the stupid thing anyway.

Case in point: Grey's Anatomy has evolved over the years so that the lead characters, originally interns, are now residents. They are now responsible for teaching the new crop of interns and doing a pretty poor job of it. The interns, in an effort to get the medicine they feel they're being denied, have formed their own version of "fight club." Let's call it "Suture Club." What happens in Suture Club stays in Suture Club. They do procedures on themselves: iv's, sutures, catheterizations (ugh!), epidural, etc.

Last night someone had the brainstorm that they should do an appendectomy on one of them. Who needs that petrified useless organ anyway? What could possibly go wrong with such a simple we've-never-really-cut-anyone-open-before surgery?

A lot. Oh...let me count the ways.

While the episode allowed many important emotional conflicts to bubble to the top of the emotional heap, I said (to my dog, Sweetie) the moment the stupid choice began to take shape, "I do not believe this. How can any rational person think that doing an appendectomy on the spur of the moment, while looking at a text book would be beneficial or go well? How stupid are these people?"

Sweetie squeaked Bluey, her favorite blue fleece sheep. I can't be certain, but I feel my dog was trying to signal the answer, "Pretty damned stupid."

I thought about the friends in my life. There's not a one among them who would drag me into an unauthorized appendectomy. They have brains, a grip on reality, and rarely take the easy way out. They don't grab greedily at experiences they haven't earned, and yet they put themselves in the path of opportunity. Just like me they all have areas of their lives they are busily perfecting and other areas in which they shine brightly.

And most importantly they never, ever ignore the inner voice screaming, "STOP! This will not go well."

How about you? Have you managed to cobble together the right collection of friends over the years? Or do you have one that's all trauma drama and can't manage to discourage? How do you tactfully disengage yourself when you realize an acquaintance has decided you are their new BFF? We're talking friends today at Top Down! And if you want to we can talk about Little Sloane possibly entering Little Grey.

Personal boundaries

We've all stepped out of our comfort zones on occasion, yes?  Life is all about learning to move beyond comfort, experiencing new things and well, seizing the darned day.  I'm having comfort zone issues lately.  Thought I'd tell you about them.

Call them personal boundaries, or what they really are—quirks.  This weekend I'm going to spend a 'plotting weekend' with friends.  Lois is one of the culprits.  She can verify some of my stranger personal quirks.  (But please, you don't really have to, Lois.)  Anyway, I'm excited for the weekend.  Look forward to plotting out a new book I have to write, and learning by helping others work on their books.

But.  I'm freaking about the whole 'leaving the safety of my home to enter a strange environment' thing.  You see, I don't travel well.  And I really have a problem with staying at new or strange places.  I've already hit Lois with the burning questions: "Will they have clean sheets?  Do we bring our own?  Will I get my own bed?  Do I have to talk to these people all day?  What if I just want to get away from everyone?  Do we spend the whole day in the same place, just...talking?  Communicating?  Bonding?  What will I do?  What WILL I DO?  

Our own personal boundaries are set at about a three foot circumfrance around each of us.  Invade that space, and you're stepping beyond the comfort zone, or rather, into it.  Me?  My boundaries stretch out to about five or six feet.  I see a person enter that zone, I tighten up and cringe.  I see the arms spread for an imminent hug the warning lights start flashing.  "Danger, danger, Will Robinson!  Evacuate!  Get to safety!"

So going to a strange cabin, and sharing rooms with new people is going to really test those personal boundaries.  I know, Lois will pre-warn them not to hug me.  And like I said, I have no problems chatting and plotting.  That will rock.  But will they wonder what's up when I don't sleep at all at night because I'm on a strange mattress that other people have actually slept on before me?  Or have to use a bathroom that people not even in the same family as mine have used?  Aggh!  I'm getting anxious just thinking about it.

Whew.  I leave tomorrow afternoon.  I  can do this.  I really can.  But it's going to be freaky, I just know it.  

So tell about your personal boundaries?  What is truly out of your comfort zone, that you will still do, yet shudder all the way through it?

M

Hey!  Are you a Follower yet?  You can sign up to Follow to the right.  There may be something fun for Followers next month.  I'm just sayin'...  :-)

An Interview with Eloisa James--and Giveaways! (FIVE!)

If I recall correctly, I first met Eloisa James at a Romance Writers of America Convention in Denver. Several of us were leaving a dinner given by Avon Books for a party hosted by Harlequin. Somehow I found myself next to the incredibly slender, incredibly fashionable, and incredibly funny Eloisa. I laughed so hard I had to head straight for the bathroom once we reached the party…you know that kind of laughter.

Another year, another trek from dinner to party. I was wearing this dress with fabulous beaded shoulder straps. Fabulous, but fragile. As I exited the taxi, the wire the beads were strung on cut through the thread attachment to the garment on one side and I was in serious wardrobe malfunction. I made noises about returning to our hotel. Eloisa wouldn’t have it! She slipped the remaining beads off the wire (dashing them to the New York sidewalk) and then quickly used the wire and a little tuck here and there to make my sagging gown into a one-shouldered thing of beauty!

Delightful companion, impromptu dress re-designer, and she writes wonderful books, too. (Not to mention that she’s a professor and a wife and mother as well). The next in her “Desperate Duchesses” series of Georgian historicals, When the Duke Returns, will hit the shelves November 25.

In this story, Isidore, the Duchess of Cosway, faces the stranger she married by proxy eleven years ago…and must decide if he’s the man she wants for a lifetime.

I Ask, Eloisa Answers

I started this off by talking about fashion and must continue because I love reading about clothes in romances and you’ve outdone yourself with heroine Isidore’s ensembles in When the Duke Returns. (I so want her diamond shoes!) Where do you get your ideas for the clothing?

Ah, clothing… as you can see from your beaded gown story above (I remember that! It was the year that my own gown slipped off one shoulder at the Harlequin dance and I accidentally flashed 800 women) – anyway, the gowns I describe are costumes I would like to wear. That’s crucial. So I choose pictures from British Vogue or a host of other overpriced fashion magazines featuring beautiful women wearing one-of-a-kind garments. Then I imagine that fabric, the flow and beading, in a Georgian or Regency shape.

More than once you’ve written a romance about the development of love within a marriage. How does the fact that the hero and heroine are married affect the conflict and the growing relationship?

I think it makes it more interesting. I’m married. I find marriages fascinating given that the initial haze of lust has burned off. A marriage that survives fulfills the dream of romance: that two people can have an intelligent, loving, sensual relationship together. If a book just ends at the altar – well, really, who knows? I certainly have a lot of feverish memories of pure lust for men that I am truly, really grateful not to have married!

In the Desperate Duchesses series, the playing of chess has an important role. Do you play? (Confession from me: I tried to take it up when my sons were beginners because it was way better than Chutes & Ladders. Discovered they could beat the pants off me by the time they were like 8, so I gave it up.)

Nope. I can’t play worth a darn. But my closest friend in my English Department (I’m a professor) is only a few games off being a master. He lent me books and magazines and a chess board, and I learned just enough to write about it.

In your series, you have interweaving and layering threads and character relationships that continue through each book. Do you plan those in advance or do you let your subconscious do most of the work?

I’m a seat-of-the-pantser. In When the Duke Returns, for example, I certainly never planned to have my duke return from years abroad to find that the water closets (or toilets) in the ducal mansion broke long ago… but what can I say? I live in an elderly house, and that plot irresistibly presented itself to me. I couldn’t say no! And that plot twist turned out to be quite funny, so I’m happy that I’m not hemmed in by a plot I thought up in advance.

As I said above, you’re a bestselling author, a college professor, a mother and a wife. I’m certain you get asked this all the time—can you share a great time-management tip or two?

I have a long (typed) list of to-do’s. Every day I put a yellow sticky on it, with 4-5 things that I can reasonably get done. Sometimes those things are small: “write 2 pages.” Sometimes they are large: “Finish copy-edits.” But I have a sense of accomplishment when I cross things off the sticky, and I’m amazed at how just chipping away at small bits can add up to completion of large projects a few months later.

Plus, I have a great husband!

You mention on your website (www.eloisajames.com) that the Georgian period (during which the Desperate Duchesses books are set) is “naughtier” than the Regency period and that men and women’s relationships had a different tone. Can you elaborate a little?

Well, think of the Regency period as coming just before the Victorian period (when women had to cover the legs of tables with doilies so that naked table legs didn’t give them naughty thoughts). But the Georgian period was far before the Victorians came along – and social rules had a much smaller role. It wasn’t unusual for a husband and wife to live separately, especially in the higher classes. And it certainly wasn’t unusual for either of them to take a lover. Many women married later, and scholars estimate that almost 50% of them were pregnant at their wedding. So Georgians were simply naughtier!

Finally: I see that Jemma’s story is up next. I’m so excited (and worried for her happy ending). Can you give me just a little hint to keep me going through the next months of feverish anticipation?

I love the book. Is that enough? *g*.

Oh, and my editor said that it has one of the best beginnings that she’s read in the last decade. How’s that for a hint?

I can’t say too much without giving away the plot. But let me just say that I laughed, and cried, writing this book. I hope you feel the same reading it!

Riders (and readers), I have reviewed Eloisa’s When the Duke Returns for my December column in BookPage, noting: “The delight of the story is in how two very different people learn to negotiate their relationship and in doing so discover their love for each other.Appealing secondary characters who have walked through other entries in the Desperate Duchesses series add another layer of poignancy to this most excellent romance.”

If you’d like to win a sample of Eloisa’s magnificent storytelling, she is giving away FIVE signed copies of her book Desperate Duchesses (along with my own Bachelor Boss), so leave a comment!

My Christmas List. . . the unofficial version

Every year the family asks what I want for Christmas. Every year I say. . . something "homemade" or something "green and natural" or something "fun for the kitchen." And there are the old standbys. . . books and music and Bath-and-Body-Works stuff. Or the occasional spa day or pedicure or massage. Lovely things, all. And it's not like I don't appreciate that they actually want to BUY me something.

How old do I have to be to get by with telling them what I really want?

A new epidermis. Seriously. I'd love to have a skin-freshening, or whatever they call it these days. The crepey stuff on the cheeks and the brown sun-damage spots and the little spidery things around the eyes are really starting to annoy me. Isn't there a specialty catalog that specializes in "miracle cures" or something?

A trip somewhere FUN. Like the Napa Valley or Sonoma County. Preferably someplace where they have great food and tons of wine. Maybe Tuscany or the Champagne region of France. Or someplace sunny in the winter, like the Virgin Islands. As it is, the "vacations" are mostly spent traveling to see the kids. . . which, don't get me wrong, is very nice and all. They're my heart and soul. But it would be great to have some grown-up FUN in the mix.

A new retirement plan. My SEP (401K for the self-employed) is looking like it got hit by vampires on three sides. I thought I was being prudent and socking it away for the future. Now it looks like I may never get to retire. I'll be asking "You want fries with that?" until they carry me out the kitchen door of McDonald's in a pine box. Of course, the kids could just finish me a room in the basement. . .

Lower cholesterol. Right now this is my biggest risk factor for not seeing 80. There is heart trouble in the genes and my cholesterol is under control with meds. But, dang, it would be nice if I could give them a few points. . . kind of spread the pain around. I mean. . . I still have the stretch marks from carrying them, for pity's sake. Surely they could help me out here.

A really comfortable pair of stilettos. You know. . . shoes that feel great while making you look like a Hollywood babe. Don't tell me somebody in Paris hasn't thought of this. I think the shoe industry has just bought them off.

Lipstick that doesn't wear off and, yet, doesn't make me look like I've just come from a Dracula Family dinner. I've tried several of the two-step lipsticks on the market and none of them have been particularly wonderful. Maybe this is expecting too much of the family. . . inventing something that has the industrial might of the western world stumped.

And a corollary to that is permanent makeup. I'd like to investigate the whole tattoo-my-eyelids thing so I'd never have to put on eyeliner again. I'm not sure I'd like the permanent lipstick thing, but I really hate having to do eyeliner.

Fresh paint. My bedroom has been needing a new coat and a new color for the last five years and I haven't been able to decide about it. So, I've put it off and put it off. Come to think of it, the family room could use a little 911 as well. And maybe the kitchen. . . the dining room. . .

Weeding the flower beds. Now this is especially annoying down here in Florida, because the danged weeds grow 365 days a year here. Aghhhhh! You weed and two weeks later, there's a fresh crop to have to massacre. Where are the grandkids when you need them?

A new bra that fits. For the last four years I have happily worn a certain kind of bra and when I went to get a couple of new ones. . . you guessed it. . . they don't make that model anymore. Now I face the dreaded trial and error process of finding my next "favorite" style and maker. Couldn't I just turn that over to somebody? Preferably somebody who won't haul me into Nordstroms and say "Fix Grammy so she doesn't scare little children in the streets."

A self-cleaning vegetable crisper. Maybe some young genius in the family could figure out a way to hook the garbage disposal directly to the crisper in the fridge. That way there'd be none of that squicky "guess what this used to be" game. And the EPA could remove all of that yellowtape around my kitchen.

40 years worth of family pictures put in decent nice-looking albums. I know, I know. This smacks of "organization." And we mustn't get our expectations/hopes too high. Might damage somebody's self esteem.

sigh.

So these are a few of the things I won't be putting on my Christmas list, but really would beat out cucumber-watermelon body butter any day.

What about you? What would you REALLY like to have for Christmas. . . whether it fits in a box with a bow or not? It's never too early to start thinking about this, people!

Cindy's Talking LIVE on the Radio tonight - CALL HER!!

Hey all.
I'm talking live on Talk Radio - Canned Laughter and Coffee - tonight at 7:30 Central time. Please call and talk to me :o)
All you have to do is dial: 646-200-4071

I would dearly love to hear your sweet voices!

The show is also aired LIVE at http://www.blogtalkradio.com/Circle-Of-Seven and an active chat session is online if you want to listen in!!

If you can't make it, you can still hear the 15 minute broadcast. It will be available for download at http://www.blogtalkradio.com/Circle-Of-Seven


Hugs
Cindy

Too Far?

Lois Greiman

I’m going to post a photo, but please, before you scroll down, be assured that this was NOT my idea. This was not something I sought out or that I, God forbid, would ever approve of. This, my friends, was sent to me by none other than the seemingly innocent Cindy Gerard, the rider (who I once thought of as a sister) who touts herself as ’the grandmotherly type.’

Okay, I admit, I may have had a few ummmm unrefined moments in the past. The Chippendales event does spring to mind. (Frequently.) But I’m beyond that now. Mature. And quite scandalized.

This is the image.

It was sent with the message, “Perhaps this is something you could use for one of your Highland novels.”

What is the world coming to?

Not long ago I received a similar email from another ‘friend’ when I was planning a trip out west. (See image to the...well, you'll figure it out.) It said, “I told you to be careful of those cowboys.”

I’m so sorry to offend our genteel riders, but I felt it was necessary to warn you about some of the smut that may be appearing in your inbox. I also wanted to ask: What have you received via email that has cracked you up? Err, I mean, that has scandalized you?

www.loisgreiman.com


HOT GUY ALERT!!! DO NOT SCROLL DOWN UNTIL YOU'RE QUITE READY.

The little devils, Lois, Betina and Cindy, made me do this (but we can credit my SIL, Diane, for sending it to me!)

How'd you like to snag this guy's line?



Well, well, ladies, is that all you got? :-) You are forcing me to up the ante with my own nekkid guy pic. One of my favs. Hey! It's research, don't you know. Just pretend it's fisher dude up above. He's gotta rinse off afterward. And because I am so very generous, I'll include a link to the site where you can find more nice nekkid dudes in the comments section.

And the Winner of the Eloisa James ARC is...

Caffey!

Caffey, please e-mail me, Christie, at christie@christieridgway.com and send her your snail mail addy so I can send along the book.

Congratulations.

And the Winner is ...

Catslady wins the 2009 Chippendale calendar from the list of commentors this week!

Email Lois at lgreiman@earthlink.net with your snail mail and she'll send it out to you. (That is if we can pry it out of her sweaty little hands!)

Thanks everyone for hanging with us!

Games People Play...and a Giveaway!

Long ago I realized I wasn’t any good at sports. I played tennis in high school for a season, but I might as well have closed my eyes and swung at the ball. My vision was that bad and I didn’t get contact lenses until the next year. I didn’t know who the cute seniors were for all my freshman year because they were always too far away to identify!

Surfer Guy and his family are very athletic. Both his parents were high school coaches and PE teachers. Surfer Guy, his brother, and my sister-in-law (brother-in-law’s wife) all had athletic scholarships in college. After I married into this family I got by on my skills in cookie-baking and doing stuff like babysitting the grandchildren while everyone else went out and did stuff with balls.

There were still other hours to fill when I was with the in-laws and I was gratified to find I was good at Trivial Pursuit. These people don’t know as much trivia as me (though they can clean my clock on science and sports junk, natch). And hey, I found I could hold my own when it was Chutes & Ladders with the kids. But I still had a secret talent, I told myself. I was pretty darn good at other adult games. Gin Rummy. Hearts.

Well, heck no. Surfer Guy and Surfer Brother can clean my clock at that too! They remember when the aces have all been played. That kind of thing. When I win, it’s by sheer luck. For a long time my husband, his brother, my sister-in-law, and I all talked about learning to play bridge from my mother-in-law, but the Surfer Bros. say they know enough to fake it--which means I’d be left in the dust. Again.

Wonderful author Eloisa James will be joining us next Wednesday to talk about her latest book, When the Duke Returns, part of her current series of Georgian romances which includes the game of chess as a central element. I remember my dad and my brother playing that game when I was a kid. I don’t know why I didn’t learn. But when Surfer Guy started teaching our sons to play, I decided I would pay attention. We have a set on the ledge of the hot tub by our pool and we’d sit there on Friday nights in the steaming water and they’d play.

I started playing too. How hard could it be to beat a 7-year-old (or at least hold my own)?

You know the answer. I’m just not good at games! I can’t remember the moves of the horse or the castle or the queen, and when the little kid is rolling his eyes in frustration…well, you give up. Have me read a story, tell a story, make a costume, bake a cookie, then I’m your woman. But games…I need to stick with Chutes & Ladders and the Arts & Literature category of Trivial Pursuit.

Are you expert in a game or sport? Or just enjoy one or more? Share! One lucky commenter will win an Advance Reader Copy of When the Duke Returns by Eloisa James. Come back next Wednesday too, when she’ll answer my piercing questions and we’ll have more giveaways!

How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm?

It’s been well established that I’m an Iowegan. Born, raised, live and love in the heartland. Sure, I’m allowed off the farm (in our case all 4 ½ acres of it) from time to time. I’ve traveled hither and yon and manage to conduct myself in a manner reasonably acceptable in polite company (picking up strange men in bars and Chippendale episodes not withstanding BUT in my defense, there were accomplices and extenuating circumstances). In short, I can handle myself whether it be hiking the jagged rims in the Grand Canyon or storming the brick and steel girded canyons of New York City. One might say I’m fearless.

And I was, until the day my agent called, striking terror in this intrepid Midwesterner’s heart by reminding me that she had promised to visit me in Iowa to celebrate my recent appearances on the New York Times best-seller list.

Maria Carvainis was comin’ to town - um, make that the country. Now, let me ‘splain something here. Maria is the quintessential cosmopolitan New York City business women. By that I mean, she’s successful, well traveled, polished and coiffed within an inch of her city-slicker life.

“Oh, my God,” I said to my husband and I believe I said it repeatedly. “What am I going to do with Maria here, in Iowa? I mean, she probably doesn’t even own pair of jeans, let alone a pair of low-heeled shoes. And she’s a wine connoisseur. Something tells me that box of Ripple on the top refrigerator shelf just ain’t gonna cut it.”

Well, long story short and my reservations aside, Maria proved to be a woman of her word. On Halloween day, she winged her way from the masses of NYC to I-o-way and the 2500 people populating my hometown – with not a single pair of jeans to be found.

When I stopped hyperventilating, I did my homework. And I was ready for her. It was going to be uptown all the way for this sophisticated socialite who represents such literary giants as Sandra Brown, P.J. Parrish, Mary Balogh (to name a few) and … lil ole me.

Never let it be said that I don’t know how to rise to an occasion. When Maria arrived I was waiting for her at the airport with a vast array of cultured gifts – a mud ugly brown t-shirt with the word IOWA and a photo of a pig displayed nicely across the chest, a corn cob key chain, a coffee mug and a stuffed cow. Classy, huh? She was stunned speechless.

From the airport I whisked her away to the epitome of culinary delight – The Flying Weinie. (The Ritz has nothing on me).








Friday evening, it was out to dinner and clubbing with my friends - one of whom (Carol B) gifted her with a bottle of Boone's Farm, a stuffed pink flamingo and a book on the art of pole dancing. Yee Haw. Later, we got all decked out for Halloween – taste and tact all the way. There were nun costumes involved.

And what night on the town would be complete without a stop at Hamburger Mary’s, a local transvestite bar where new friends abounded. Literally – they were bounding all over the place.

The next day, we moved on with the highly cultural agenda by visiting our children and grandchildren. Since it was Halloween, all four of the little cuties greeted us in their costumes. Kayla, 7, was a beautiful mermaid, Blake, 4, was the ultimate Power Ranger, Lane, 3, was type cast as a monkey, and baby Haley, 8 months, was dressed as the cutest little frog you ever did see.
Lane provided musical entertainment by singing in his sweet, angelic voice: “Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?” over and over and over again. And when Maria squeezed Haley’s foot and inquired, “And how are you little froggie?” Blake – ever on hand to clarify the obvious – pointed out: “She’s not really a frog. She’s a baby.”

After one final rendition of “… hot like me,” from Lane, we said our good-byes and moved on to the grand finale. Hot dang, we got us some guns and went and shot somthin’. And what trip to Iowa would be complete without a visit to a corn field?

All too soon, this weekend that I had looked forward to with equal measures of concern and uncertainty was over. And you know what I found out about city-slickers – well ONE city slicker at any rate? She was a damn good sport, an easy keeper and she loved my dog and my family and my friends - and they all loved her. What's not to love about that? We had a blast. We laughed and we ate and we drank some mighty fine wine and when I put her on that plane back to the city and I heard myself saying, “Ya’all come back now, ya hear!”, I realized that I meant it! Maria (aka Sister Mary Marguerita) is welcome back any time. Heck. I might even take her snipe huntin’ on her next trip!

My question to you all is, have you ever found YOURSELF in a similar position of worrying about how to entertain visitors you assumed would be way out of their element? And if so, what was the outcome? Did you have a grand time like I did or was it the disaster you had foreseen? And the really big question - besides being down right negligent and failing to take her outhouse tipping, did I miss anything??

Lou Gagliardi - come on down!

Hey Lou
Your name was drawn as the winner of Kristan Higgin's book from Kristan's Nov 12th blog.
Please e-mail me at : cindyg@cindygerard.com with your mailing address and I'll make certain Kristin received the information.
Congratulations!!!

Guest Author: Kristan Higgins

Hey everyone. The super talented, super sweet, and sometimes wacky, Kristan Higgins is joining us in the convertible today. I had the pleasure of reading and blurbing Kristan's first HQN, Fools Rush In. What a treat! It was also a treat visiting with Kristan when our shared agent hosted a dinner in SF this past July. So please give Kristan a warm, Top Down welcome, okay? I'm sure you're gonna love her and her books.

Hello! I am so pleased and proud to hang out with the convertible-lovin’ ladies from Riding with the Top Down! I’ve always loved the name of this website…the first car I drove was my father’s red Triumph convertible, a little two-seater with a faulty exhaust system, a wooden dashboard and an 8-track tape deck (the height of cool, I assure you). That Triumph might not have started all the time, had a tendency to cough out clouds of black smoke and veer off the road if you weren’t pulling on the steering wheel with all your might…but as an accessory, she was superb!

So thanks for having me! I have to tell you, I absolutely love being a romance writer. It’s much, much better than my old jobs, which all involved getting out of my pajamas, showering and brushing my teeth. Not any more! Now I get to be that odd woman who works in a little room in the basement, talks to the dog and forgets to brush her hair. It’s a dream come true!

Another great thing…my job requires me to fall in love over and over without breaking any marriage vows. I get to play with my imaginary friends every day, and these imaginary friends tend to look like Jude Law and Daniel Craig and the like. So when my husband comes in and says, “Honey, why are you staring at that picture of Clive Owen again?” I get to say, “Sweetie, please. I’m working here.”

As a romantic comedy writer, I find myself thinking not just about handsome men, but about humiliation. I got a lovely letter the other day from someone who said, “What I like best about your writing is that you describe things we’ve all done but would never actually admit.” (I’m not quite sure what that says about me, but it felt true.) I think a lot of humor does spring from embarrassing or awkward moments…all my favorite TV shows and movies seem to center on this belief, too — The Office, The New Adventures of the Old Christine, Death at a Funeral.

So when I start writing a new book, I usually start with a question — “What have I done that I probably shouldn’t admit to?” — and then I proceed to write a hundred thousand words on that subject. Not the best way to keep things confidential, but hey. It’s a living

In my first book, Fools Rush In, the experience was stalking. Not the scary, bunny-on-the-stove stalking…the more benign type. The type where you wait in the parking lot until he drives in and then leap out of your car in an incredible show of coincidence. “Oh, hey, how are you? What are you doing here? You come here every day at 10:37? I had no idea!” (You’ve all done this, too, right? It’s not just me, is it?)

My second book, Catch of the Day, captures the cringing embarrassment of having a public crush on someone completely inappropriate — Maggie meets the perfect man, she thinks, only to find out that he’s a Catholic priest. I can’t tell you the number of e-mails I’ve received from women who’ve had crushes on their own version of Father What-A-Waste. In fact, I’m giving a talk at a Catholic church this week, since the Ladies Guild was so tickled with that idea.

Too Good To Be True (out in February), is about a woman who invents a boyfriend when her ex-fiancé starts dating her sister. Again…we’ve all made up a boyfriend, yes? Not just me? (Er…Note to the guy who sat next to me on the plane ride to San Francisco all those years ago — I was not actually engaged to a cellist in the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Sorry. I’m just not a Dungeons & Dragons type girl.)

So how about you folks? Anyone pull any stunts while in the

throes of romantic misery? Fall for someone off-limits? Go full throttle in order to attract the attention of someone who wasn’t noticing you? I’ll pick a name from those of you who respond and send you an autographed copy of Just One of the Guys as a reward for your confession.

Thanks, folks! Looking forward to hearing your stories!

All the best,

Kristan

www.kristanhiggins.com

Debra-- Thanksgiving Schedule

I'm sure many of you have fabulous, festive holidays in which the fun never stops.

We have holidays that create memories (i.e. the holiday doesn't seem like fun until sufficient time has passed and the day becomes a memory). Like the holiday we were all seated at the table and waiting for the turkey. Mother stubbed her toe on the way to the table from the kitchen. The bird shot off the platter and hit Daddy in the head. (From that point telling Daddy to "Get Stuffed" took on a whole new meaning.)

I've lost count of the Christmas trees viciously attacked by kitties strong enough to break the fishing line tying the tree to the wall. Hey, after the first decorated-tree-as-etch-a-sketch-performance-art, you always tie the tree to a wall. We use rope now and pretend we have a rodeo theme.

We had green stuffing one year. The top came off the sage. So, I guess that counts as a festive Thanksgiving! If you discount the weeping and wailing. We love my mother's stuffing and seeing green...well, it was a good thing Christmas is a do-over for Thanksgiving.

Really, don't you think Thanksgiving was invented so we could do a dry run for the big Christmas meal? Although, because of our experience with memories, we don't get too bent out of shape. The family grades on a curve and appreciates that we do both these big meals at our house. So, here's my schedule:

11-1 Find the vacuum.

11-2 Curse the vacuum and take to repair shop.

11-3 Begin negotiation of the date(s) and time(s) for the "official events" while coordinating approximately 12 family units on hubby's and my sides of the family.

11-8 Give up and say we'll have our Thanksgiving for my family on a day that is not Thanksgiving. (We don't actually care.) All are welcome.

11-9 Pick up the vacuum and curse dog hair. Take vacuum back to repair shop. Try not to take offense at the laughter.

11-12 Answer phone call from repair shop. Buy new vacuum.

11-13 Leaf through shiny, pretty magazines at all the pretty tablescapes, snort derisively at people who must not live with cats if they put turkey feathers in their centerpieces, and then get out the construction paper turkey the kid made in third grade and tape it to the front door.

11-14 Attempt to get a final count for our dinner. Plus or minus 5.

11-15 Consider rehiring a maid.

11-17 Vacuum.

11-20 Decide that only the "public" spaces and the guest bathroom need to be really clean. Vacuum.

11-21 Decide to find some activities for the little ones.

11-22 Make sure my son got the memo about our plans. Vacuum. (I have a German Shepherd-Husky mix, which is the generally accepted champion of shedding.)

11-23 Buy a turkey and more peanut oil. Fight usually reasonable people over the last 2 cans of fried onion rings for the Gawdawful green bean casserole that only 2 people eat but who cry if we don't make it.

11-24 Recover from shopping. But vacuum.

11-25 Knit sweater from dog hair that has accumulated since vacuuming.

11-27 Go to two Thanksgivings that aren't "ours." Begin fast-thawing the turkey.

11-28 Go shopping and buy a new turkey platter. (I broke ours 2 weeks ago. Seriously. This one is $ 149.99 at Williams-Sonoma. Ha!)

11-29 Clean until the last possible moment and then wait for catastrophe that will become a fond memory.

11-30 Wonder why we need a maid when the house looks this clean.

Do you have a maid? Do you want a maid? Do you clean daily? Weekly? Or just when you can't find your way to the kitchen?

A Rider Field Trip

It's all Lois's fault. Then again Cindy's to blame as well. I (Helen), of course, am totally innocent in the matter.

It all started with Cindy deciding to come up from her home state of Iowa to chilly Minnesota to visit, do a few book signings, and chat with our local writers group. And from there it digressed.

"Let's think of something special to entertain Cindy," Lois said. "To celebrate her NYTs showing."

Yeah, right. Lois has been dying to see the Chippendale male dancers her entire adult life (quite possibly even before that) and Cindy was just the excuse to get her there. But first she had to rope in a few accomplices. A Rider field trip, if you will. Research for romance writers. Tax deductible, you think?

Where do I start?

Oh, yeah. Naked men and screaming women.

We were in an auditorium with at least 1,000 other woman, most of them a good decade younger than us and several drinks ahead of us. It was like nothing I've ever seen before.

The guys come out onto the stage and, well, dance (in a not entirely synchronized fashion, but who cares, right?) women go crazy. That about sums it up. Except for the part where the guys cruise through the audience rubbing up against, hugging or kissing any woman willing to stuff a few bucks into his tightie whities.

You should have seen Lois. And Cindy. You'd think they never got out of their houses at night. Never scene a man's naked chest and, ahem, you know ... bum. Now I know why they made me stop at that gas station on the way down. They said they needed change. Ones.

Trust me, they were all over those guys. (And if they try telling you otherwise later today, don't believe a word they say.) Let's just hope their dhs don't read this blog.

This is our whole crew with some of the dancers after the show. In the front row, it's Ann Bleakley, dancer, dancer, Michelle Buonfiglio, dancer and Tina Plant. Back row, sweet little innocent me, Lois (the trouble maker), dancer, Cindy (Lois's partner in crime), dancer, Amy Kennedy-Fossen, and Marcia, owner of A Novel Place bookstore in Osseo.

Honestly, we had fun. It was a female bonding experience to remember.

So what's was your best girls night out? Ever been to see male strippers? Isn't it interesting how women going to see male strippers seems to be socially acceptable, but men seeing female strippers is considered sleazy and crude?

Here's another pic of the guys with just a couple of us. That's Lois and Cindy and I have no clue who that other chick is and what she might be doing with that male stripper.

I'm innocent, I tell you. Innocent.

And we've got a fun treat from Cindy, Lois and me. One of this week's lucky commentors will receive a 2009 Chippendales calendar. It's pretty cool. Check back Saturday for info on the lucky winner!

HOLD THE PHONE: Cindy here, Totally unwilling to let sweet innocent "why I just sat there and blushed 'til I got the vapers," Helen get by with her goodie two shoes act.
I was merely being the polite, affable out of town guest, going along with the plan and working quietly in the background on: a) research material, b) my concern, in my meek grandmotherly fashion, about those poor boys catching a chill, and c) trying to keep Helen out of the local jail. I mean really. I AM a grandmother. This 'field trip' was far below my standards (picking up strange men in bars not withstanding). Helen was OUT OF CONTROL. What Helen said about Lois, though? All true!! The woman is an animal and there might be a Chippendale or two with the the teeth marks to prove it. Do note which Riders are either sitting on or exposing themselves to, those poor defenseless boys (Hint: it's Lois and Helen) and which Rider is standing quietly in the background behaving like a lady. Just because you can't see my hands, doesn't mean they're someplace they shouldn't be.


Lois wrote:

Liars!! They’re both liars I tell you. I know I’m a little late showing up to discount their stories, but that’s not because I needed 36 hours to recuperate or anything. I’m perfectly fine. What vodka?

Anyway, okay, the Chippendales trip may have been my idea. But I felt that as writers, professional writers, it was our responsibility, our duty, if you will, to experience such an event. But let me assure you, I conducted myself in an extremely lady-like fashion all evening. I was, I admit, a bit shocked by the others. But then, Cindy is from Iowa and well…Enough said. As for Helen, the woman has more hands than an octopus. They were everywhere. Even trying to shove me forward into the sweaty, hard-muscled, nicely…Well, what I’m trying to say is she tried to force me on some of the gentlemen, but I assure you, I resisted. As for Tina Plant, I do believe I saw her with a dollar bill stuck in her bodice. That’s right. In her bodice. Don’t think I put it there. That would have been wrong. And weird!!

Marcy the bookseller--I was shocked. There was yelling…actual, rather lewd suggestions regarding what the gentlemen should do with their attire.

Buonfiglio, well, if you know Michelle of Lifetimetv.com, there’s no need for explanations. And Amy, just cuz it was your birthday…really! Ann Bleakley! Seriously, the woman doesn’t even drink, so there were no excuses.

Honestly, I’m quite embarrassed for all of them.

Kylie’s 27 Dresses---Well, okay, only 4

I think I’ve mentioned before that two of my sons got married last summer. Five weeks apart, as a matter of fact. One got married the week before I went to San Francisco for RWA, and the other ceremony was a couple weeks after I returned.

Funny how mom doesn’t get a vote on the timing of important events like this ☺ You’d think they’d care that I was juggling two deadlines and two trips already for the summer when they made their plans. Not so much.

I actually thought I’d convinced my twenty-five year old son to wait until next summer. (There was the little matter of actually paying our share of two weddings to consider, as well.) After talking to him, he said, “Well, I’ll probably do what I’m told.” A huge sense of relief swept over me and I said, “Thank goodness.” He looked at me and said, “No, I mean by Carly.”

And so it began ☺

So I climbed on board the marathon wedding train (no pun intended) and started preparing. Which thankfully, for sons doesn’t include a whole lot, since I didn’t have a ton of time, juggling all these deadlines. You know the saying, the mother of the groom only needs to wear beige and keep her mouth shut? I figured one out of two wasn’t bad! Because the dress I bought was kinda sorta beige. Well, more champagne actually. And sparkly.

At least the first dress.

See I was afraid I wasn’t going to find anything so I went shopping with my husband (usually a mistake) and tried on dresses in front of him. What’s worse, I took his advice, forgetting his general guideline of fashion sense: if it clings, plunges and or reveals, it looks great. I was relieved. I had a dress—if I didn’t find anything I liked better.

A few weeks later I was in another town and went shopping--you guessed it--to see if I could find something I liked better. I found a dress in about the same color that didn’t cling, plunge or reveal. I decided it was more appropriate (read sedate) and bought it. Dress number two.

And then a week later I bought another dress. I was kind of in panic mode by now, because I wasn’t really in love with any of the dresses. This, I thought was the one. Maybe. Even though it did kind of plunge. Dress number three.

In the end, I tried on all three for my husband. (Yeah, I know, but there was no one else around.) We agreed that the third dress was best so the other two had to go back.

And for the next wedding? I wore something I already had in my closet. The last thing I needed was yet another long black dress since I already have three. And I've never loved shopping enough to want to go through the dress marathon again!

What is it about weddings that throw us in such a tizzy? Have you ever been in such a dither over what to wear to one? Or, like Kathleen Heigl in 27 Dresses, have you ever had to grit your teeth and don a hideous bridesmaid dress for a friend? Let’s talk about wedding wear—the good, the bad and the ugly ☺