Archive for August, 2007

An Exclusive Plotmonkey Excerpt!

Tuesday, August 21st, 2007
Leslie Icon

Celebrate with me…my newest book, OVEREXPOSED (aka The Cannoli Book!) should start hitting stores this week. Woo hoo! This one is super-sexy and is the story of Nick Santori, the ex-Marine brother from the Santori family of Chicago. He is trying hard to become like his brothers–normal, middle class, good and wholesome. But it’s becoming really difficult since he’s wildly attracted to a sexy siren, The Crimson Rose, a stripper who’s taken Chicago by storm.

Fortunately, he’s also wildly attracted to Izzie Natale, the “girl next door” who runs the neighborhood bakery.

Unfortunately for him…Nick doesn’t realize they’re the same woman.

Check out the excerpt, then read on to learn more about a super-fun Plotmonkey contest that Janelle and I are hosting. We have a little secret…and we’re revealing it here first!

This scene takes place early in the book. Nick has just run into Izzie, the kid sister of his brother’s wife. But he doesn’t recognize her…which, uh, doesn’t make her very happy.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++==

The woman had flour in her hair. She smelled like almonds. Her apron was smeared with icing and whipped cream. Food coloring stained the tips of two of her fingers.

And she was utterly delicious.

The hints of flavor wafting off her couldn’t compete with the innate, warm feminine scent of her body, which assaulted Nick’s senses the way no full frontal attack ever had. Though they were in a crowded restaurant, surrounded by customers and members of his own family, hers was the only presence he felt. He’d been drawn to her, captured in an intimate world they’d created the moment their eyes had locked.

“You’re name’s Nick,” she said, as if making sure. Her voice was a little hard, her dark eyes narrowing.

Worried she had an ex with the same name, he replied, “I’ll answer to anything you want to call me.”

“Anything?”

He nodded, unable to take his attention from that bit of flour in her hair. He wanted to lift his hand and brush it away. Then sink his fingers in that thick, brown hair of hers, tugging it free of its ponytail to fall in a loose curtain around her shoulders. His fingers clenched into fists at his sides with the need to tangle those thick tresses in his hands and tug her face toward his for a brain-zapping kiss.

She had the kind of mouth that begged kissing. One that promised pleasure. God, it had been a long time since he’d really kissed a woman the way he liked to kiss a woman. Slowly. Deeply. With a thorough exploration of every curve and crevice.

Recently, his sex life had been limited by proximity and his active status. He hadn’t had any kind of relationship in years. And the sex he had was usually of the quick, one-night variety, where slow, indulgent kissing wasn’t on the agenda.

He could kiss this woman’s mouth for hours.

Nick didn’t understand why he was so drawn to her. All he knew was that he was attracted to her in a way he hadn’t been attracted to anyone for a long time. Not just because she was beautiful under the apron and that messy ponytail. But because of the wistful, lonely look she’d worn earlier that said she didn’t quite belong here and she knew it. Just like the one he’d had on his face lately.

“You’re single?” he asked, wanting that confirmed.

She nodded, the movement setting her ponytail swinging. It caught the reflection of a candle on the closest table, the strands glimmering in a veil of browns and golds that made his heart clang against his lungs.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked.

She arched one fine eyebrow. “We haven’t settled on what we’re going to call you yet.”

He turned, edging closer to her as a group came into the restaurant. The brunette slid along the wall, further away from anyone else. Nick followed, irresistibly drawn by her scent and the mystery in her eyes. “I guess you have a Nick in your past?”

“Uh huh.”

“It didn’t go well?”

“I’d have to say that’s a no.”

“Bad breakup?”

“No. We never even dated.” One side of her mouth tilted up in a half-smile. It held no happiness, merely jaded amusement. “He barely even noticed my existence.”

“Then he was an idiot.”

The other side of her mouth came up; this time her genuine amusement shone clearly. “Oh, undoubtedly.”

“He didn’t deserve you.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re better off without him.”

“Nobody knows that better than me.” She sounded more amused now, as if her guard was coming down.

“Enough about him,” Nick said. “If you don’t like my first name, call me by my last one. It’s Santori.”

He watched for a flare of surprise, a darting of the eyes to the sign in the window, proclaiming the name of the place.

Strangely, she didn’t react at all. “I think we’ve already determined what I should call you. You said it yourself.”

Puzzled, Nick just waited.

Idiot,” she said, tapping the tip of her finger on her cheek, as if thinking about it. “Though, honestly, it doesn’t quite capture you now. It might have sufficed years ago, but for today, I think we’ll have to go with…complete shithead.”

Nick’s jaw fell open. But the sexy brunette wasn’t finished. “By the way, that number you wanted? Here it is, you might want to write it down…1-800-nevergonnahappen.”

And without another word, she shoved at his chest, pushing him out of the way, then strode out the door. Leaving Nick standing there, staring after her in complete shock.

“I’d say that didn’t go well.” Mark stood right behind him, watching–as was Nick–as the brunette marched off down the street like she’d just kicked somebody’s ass.

Well, she had. Namely his. He just didn’t know why. “No kidding.”

“I see you haven’t lost your touch with women.”

“Shut up.” Shaking his head in bemusement, he lifted a hand and rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know how I blew that so badly.”

“But you sure managed to do it.”

Hearing his twin chuckle, Nick glared. “At least I’m not wearing a ring. I can still try to pick up a hot stranger.”

Mark just laughed harder. Which made Nick consider punching him. Only, Mama was standing behind the counter, glancing curiously at them as she waited on the customers. If Nick went after his twin, she’d come around and whack them both in the heads with a soup ladle.

“Hot stranger…oh, man, you are going to hate yourself when you figure out what you just did.”

His eyes narrowing, Nick waited for his twin to continue.

“You really didn’t recognize her, did you?”

Oh, hell. He should have recognized her? He knew her?

“Still not getting it?”

“Tell me how much trouble I’m in,” he muttered, praying he hadn’t just come on to a cousin he hadn’t seen in years. If they were related–and he couldn’t have her–that would be a crime worthy of a military tribunal. So he prayed even harder that she’d been some girl he’d known in high school.

“Pretty big trouble.”

He waited, knowing Mark was enjoying watching him sweat.

“She is family, you know.”

Damn. All the blood in his body fall to his feet out of embarrassment…and disappointment. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“You shot out of the booth like your ass was on fire.”

Rubbing a hand over his eyes and shaking his head, Nick mumbled, “Who is she? Mama’s side or Pop’s? Please tell me she’s not one of Great Uncle Vincenza’s thirty granddaughters. Otherwise I just might have to re-up and hide from him and his mafia buddies for the next decade.”

Mark’s eyes glittered in amusement. The guy was enjoying this. “Not Great Uncle Vincenza. Think closer.”

Closer. Christ. “There’s no way she’s a first cousin…”

“Not a cousin.”

Oh, thank heaven. “So who?”

“I’ll give you a hint. Did you happen to notice the icing and flour all over her apron?”

Had he ever. He didn’t know if he’d ever smell anything as good as all that messy, sugary stuff combined with the brunette’s earthy essence. “Yeah. So?”

“You’re not usually this dense.”

“You’re not usually this close to death.”

“Think…the bakery….”

“Natale’s? Gloria’s folks?” And suddenly it hit him. “No.”

“Oh, yes.”

No. Impossible. It was out of the question. “Not Gloria’s baby sister. Tell me that wasn’t chubby little Cookie.”

“She ain’t chubby and I think if you called her Cookie to her face she’d slug you.” Mark threw a consoling arm across Nick’s shoulders, his chest shaking with laughter. “To answer your question, yes, my brother, that was Isabella Natale.”

Nick couldn’t speak. He was too stunned, thinking of how she’d changed. It had been at least nine–ten years, perhaps–since he’d seen her. She’d still been in high school and he’d run into her at a Christmas party at Gloria and Tony’s when he was home on leave. She’d still blushed and stammered around him. And she’d still been girlishly round–pretty but with such a baby-face he’d never taken her crush on him seriously.

Oh, he knew about the crush. Everybody knew about the crush. His brother Tony had threatened to break his legs if he so much as looked at her the wrong way at the wedding.

Huh. He hadn’t looked at her the wrong way. He’d just landed on top of her in a pile of cookies. And had been unable to get up because she’d wrapped her limbs around him like she was drowning and he was a lifeguard trying to save her.

He started to smile. “Izzie.”

“Izzie. Formerly chubby sister of our sister-in-law, turned sexy-as-hell woman, now back in town working at the bakery.”

“Her parents’ bakery up the block?”

“That’s the one.”

“Is she here for good?” he asked, already wondering how things could have turned out this perfectly.

“I don’t know. She’s been home for a couple of months, since Gloria’s father had a stroke. With the new baby, Gloria couldn’t help much, and the middle sister’s a lawyer.”

“So the youngest one came home to take over.” Not surprising. The Natales were much like the Santoris—family meant everything.

It almost seemed too good to be true. He’d finally come across someone who not only made his nerves spark and his jeans grow a size too tight, but who also came with a pre-made stamp of approval from the neighborhood. She was gorgeous. She was feisty. Her smile nearly stopped his heart. She’d had a crush on him forever–and was obviously still affected by him, judging by the way she’d taken off in a huff.

And she was not a faceless stripper behind a mask.

Enough of that. The Crimson Rose was every other man’s fantasy. At this point in his life, Nick wanted reality. He was ready for what his brothers and sister had. And he had just stumbled across a real woman who he sensed could both drive him absolutely wild with want and be someone he could truly like.

“I think I’m feeling a need for some fresh cannoli,” he murmured, smiling as he looked out the window at the sky, streaked orange by the setting sun. Izzie was no longer in sight…she obviously wasn’t too desperate for pizza.

Maybe he’d deliver it to her.

“Judging by the way she bolted, you’d better think again.”

Nick shrugged. He wasn’t worried. After all, Izzie had had a thing for him once upon a time…she had practically chased him down. He just needed to remind her of that.

And to let her know he was ready to let her catch him.

#####

If you like it please feel free to make my day and order it!

Now, some contest news…

Janelle and I have a fun “insider” treat in store for our readers. Our upcoming September books have a super-secret “shared scene” and we’re challenging you to find it!

Just purchase your copies of OVEREXPOSED by Leslie Kelly (Harlequin Blaze, available late August 2007) and BORN TO BE WILDE by Janelle Denison (Berkley, available early September 2007). Read them, find the shared scene in each book, and send an email to: plotmonkeyscontest@gmail.com listing the scene and the page numbers from each book.

A grand prize winner will be selected at random from all correct entries and will receive a $50 gift certificate from Amazon.com. Two runners up will each receive a backlist book of their choice.

The contest runs until September 30 so you’ll have time to read–and enjoy–both of these sexy, fun and exhilarating books.

Good luck and have fun!

What’s in YOUR Bag?

Monday, August 20th, 2007
Carly Icon

Early Sunday morning I was indulging in one of my favorite pastimes: reading a fashion magazine. This was September 2007 ALLURE. I came across an article on another of my favorite things: handbags.

This study is from ALLURE Magazine readers:
52 - Percent never go out without a handbag
10 – is the number of handbags owned by the average American woman
3.4 - is the average weight in pounds of the contents of a handbag
10 – Percentage of body weight your handbag should not exceed

It all got me thinking … I am a purse addict. I need to refresh my bag every season with something new. I need to match color scheme which means basically I need a black and a brown. I change my purse based on day or night. And I never have enough handbags.

What’s IN my bag? Well, that’s another story. So I decided to share a few tidbits with you and encourage you to do the same:

Do you use a handbag every day? Yes

Do you remember your first handbag? If so, what was it? I do. A LeSportsac classic rust, double handled bag. The fact that I remember tells you something about my obsession. Boy do I remember this bag fondly although at the time, when I carried it to school, I felt awkward and out of place, embarrassed (like if I were wearing a skirt and didn’t call my friends to ask one of them to wear one too!)

Big purse or small purse? Luggage size. Just kidding. But big. Definitely.

Now for the key question. What’s in your bag? In other words, what can you not live without? I admit to being anal. Totally. There are certain things that if I don’t have them, anxiety kicks in. This despite the fact that I might never use it.

1. Wallet – no small French Purse for me. A long, envelope shaped wallet filled with credit cards, license, health insurance card, and change. In the change purse part are my frequently used cards like the supermarket, Borders, etc.

2. Leather envelope – contains extra frequent buyer cards, coupons, etc.

3. Tissues

4. Pill case – I take the Fifth on what’s in there. If you know me well, you can answer this anyway.

5. Makeup case – must contain lip gloss, lip liner, a lipstick, cover up, and a mirror

6. Extra lip gloss that I can just reach in and pull out of bag

7. Mini calendar – I have a huge calendar at home that keeps track of the whole family but this one is to make dr. appts, etc. I have to synchronize the two a few times a week.

8. A (hopefully) mini water bottle – to take said pills – I hate when I have to use the 8 or 9 oz. water bottles because they’re extra heavy.

9. Pen – maybe two.

10. Sunglass case – with sunglasses inside so I can swap my real glasses for sunglasses and visa versa and have a place to put them without scratching them.

11. Hair tie and hair clip – not always but usually have one or the other … just in case.

12. Nail file

13. Cell Phone

14. Paperback book (sometimes)

15. Bandaids

16. Lipton Decaf Teabags and Equal – because don’t you know not everyone has the Lipton or Equal brand?

17. Digital camera (sometimes)

18. iPod Nano

WEIGHT of my bag? I don’t want to know.

Clearly I don’t know how to pare down to the bare minimum. So what’s in YOUR bag? Inquiring minds want to know!

Sunday Winner and Killer Video…

Sunday, August 19th, 2007
Julie Icon

Congratulations to Beth, comment #9, who is the winner of the margarita, lemon drop OR appletini mixer…please send me an email (julie @ julieleto . com) with your snail mail address and your preference! And don’t forget you must drink one for me!

I don’t have a funny today, but I have this amazing video that my 13 year old niece showed me, not knowing that I am a huge fan of Bob Fosse and think his one-time wife, Gwen Verdon, is one of the coolest chicks ever. You may have seen this, but if you haven’t, the video was shot years ago…but the music was just added. It’s amazing! They were not dancing to this music originally, but it sure looks like it. Enjoy!

Point of View–A Primer

Saturday, August 18th, 2007
Julie Icon

There are few subjects in the craft of writing that are more perplexing to writers than Point of View. Most simply defined, point of view is the perspective through which a story is being told. Metaphorically, it’s the camera lens through which the reader experiences a story. Except in the oral tradition, telling a story is not the author’s job…showing the story is.

And to show, you need Point of View.

Here’s a quick breakdown of point of view types:

First person limited
First person omniscient
Second person
Third person limited
Third person omniscient

You should remember that from English class.

First person means that the narrator of the story uses the pronoun “I” when describing what is happening to her. Or him, as the case may be. Second person uses “you”–and is rarely used, except in self-help genre, because YOU is the focus of the piece. Third person uses “he” or “she.”

Easy, yes?

Okay, then there is limited and omniscient. Omniscient is pretty self-explanatory…it’s the type of narrative point of view that knows everything every character is thinking. Limited point of view focuses on one character, or at least, one character at a time.

For contemporary fiction, limited point of view, either first or third, is used most often. If you use something else, you’re putting yourself at a disadvantage.

Romance novels, specifically, use the third person almost exclusively–almost. When chick-lit, which is usually first person, became popular, some romance authors adopted first person narration into their work. So it’s an option, but still one that isn’t used in romance all that often.

Some of my favorite books, by the way, are told in first person. Julie Kenner’s DEMON-HUNTING SOCCER MOM series, for one. Diana Peterfreund’s SECRET SOCIETY GIRL series for another. But these aren’t romances. They’re women’s fiction. The focus is on the women and their experience, so no one really cares what the other characters are thinking, which is why the limited first person point of view works so expertly.

Julie Kenner used both first person and third person points of view in the series she did for Pocket that started with THE GIVENCHY CODE (followed by THE MANOLO MATRIX AND THE PRADA PARADOX.) She used first person for the heroines and third person for the heroes. She even switched tenses. (That’s another lesson for another day.) She pulled it off beautifully.

But for new romance authors, my suggestion is this: Use third person limited point of view and stick to it.

Head hopping is the act of changing points of view multiple times during a scene. Some authors, Nora Roberts for instance, do this expertly. Most authors, especially new ones, do not. By remaining in the point of view of a single character for one scene, the author is forced to fully explore the emotional revelations of one character, thus connecting the reader closer to the action. It’s like the difference between those rollercoaster simulators where you’re sitting in the seat and experiencing the action right there or standing outside the simulator and watching all the different people react to the action. You can see which one is more immediate. More compelling.

I’m not a Point of View purist, believe it or not. I believe that certain scenes need the point of view of more than one character to be highly effective. But those scenes are few and far between. I must prefer to stay with one character at a time, focus, get under their skin so to speak. Then in the next scene, switch to the other character and you can get their perspective on the situation. But always with moving the story forward.

How do you choose which point of view character for each scene?

Well, that’s a sticky wicket. Some people say you choose the person with the most at stake…and sometimes, that’s a good answer. But other times, it’s not. I think it’s best listen to the writer’s gut on this one…and if the scene doesn’t work, switch and see what happens. I’ve fixed many a scene by simply changing point of view.

Okay…got questions? I hope I’ve got answers!

Julie’s Jungle Madness Friday!

Friday, August 17th, 2007
Julie Icon

I’m buried under in revisions, but am coming up for air to offer what I need most right now.

Guess what that is.

No, really.

Guess.

Okay, I give.

If you guessed booze, you’re right. But I can’t ship booze, so I’ll provide the mixer and the sugar rimmer for the glass. Winner gets to pick ONE of the following and must promise to drink one for me.

Traffic Jam

Thursday, August 16th, 2007
Janelle Icon

I’ve lived in Southern California for most of my life (other than the 8 years I lived in Maui, Hawaii, when I was a kid). So, I’ve learned that traffic, and lots of it, is to be expected. Especially on the freeways. And truly, that’s the one thing I hate the most about living in a huge city area – bumper to bumper traffic. Especially on the freeways. :evil:

When Don and I got married twenty years ago, we bought our house out past a place called “Rancho Cucamonga”, which at that time was fairly equivalent to “Timbuktu” for anyone living in the Los Angeles area. Seriously. It was out in the middle of nowhere - - and because it was out in the middle of nowhere, it was a nice big house that we could AFFORD, which was key. We were young (I was 21, Don 25), so in order to afford a house at our age, we basically had to live in Timbuktu, LOL.

But I learned to love being out in the middle of nowhere, even if I did have to drive 7 miles to the nearest grocery store. It was quiet and far away from the rat race of Los Angeles. Our major freeway was and still is the 15 Freeway, and we live about a mile off that freeway. Twenty years ago it was pretty much deserted. There were five lanes going each way, and you could literally run across both portions of the freeway without getting hit by a car, because there was hardly anyone who used the freeway! For the most part, it was a freeway to use if you wanted to go to Las Vegas, and that was about it, because the freeway, once it passed us, led to the dessert and not much else. It was wonderful and we loved it. Back then, it only took Don 25 minutes to drive to or from work, with no traffic. And it was a freeway that took me anywhere I wanted to go, and quickly, because no one used it.

Fast forward 20 years. We’re still living in the same area and house (which we truly still love), but everything else around us has changed so much. There are huge shopping centers going up all around us, as well as upscale malls. And because all of the major cities leading up to where we live have used up their land on houses and commercial buildings, they keep building more and more where we live, and even further up the 15 freeway into the desert area. As a result, more people are commuting on the 15 freeway and it has become JAMMED PACKED every single day of the week. There is bumper to bumper traffic for MILES, especially during rush hour – and we can see it all from where we live! What used to take Don 25 minutes to drive to and from work has now turned into an hour and fifteen minute drive because of all the traffic he has to deal with on the freeway! I absolutely hate it, because I’ve had to find alternate routes to get home – back streets and such. But, it seems like everyone else is using these back routes because even those are heavily congested! It’s gotten so bad that I just don’t leave the house from 4PM to 8PM because I know I’m going to spend so much time sitting in bumper to bumper traffic! I know there are many people who make the long drive to and from work in rush hour traffic – sometimes spending up to 2 hours a day going just one way! I can’t even imagine.

Just recently, Caltrans opened a brand new freeway near us that gave us what should have been a quicker route home, instead of taking the jammed packed 15 freeway. But a week after opening the NEW freeway, it’s almost as bad as the 15 freeway! So, there truly is no easy way home! I love my house and where I live, but I honestly can’t wait for Don to retire so we can move somewhere quiet again. Maybe we really will move to Timbuktu for peace and quiet and no rush hour traffic!

So, all this got me thinking – do you live in the city where you have to deal with crammed freeways and rush hour traffic? Or do you live in a place that is nice and quiet and traffic free? And how do you feel about the traffic where you live?

Here’s your chance to either commiserate with me – or make me envious!

Odd Jobs

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007
Julie Icon

It’s time like these…when I’m buried deep in revisions, managing to red-line less than 50 pages in 7 frickin’ hours of work with nothing but Diet A&W Rootbeer to keep me company that I start thinking about other jobs. Not that I don’t love my job. On ordinary days, I love it beyond measure. But today? Not so much.

I started my work-for-hire life in retail, like so many other people. I was just 16, I believe and let’s just say that the highlight of my day was grabbing the intercom at the store and saying, “Attention Kmart shoppers, if you look up and around, you’ll see that blue light flashing in our men’s wear department…”

Yup. I worked at Kmart.

Actually, this was not my first job. My first job was working for my grandfather at the manufacturing company that my father and now my brothers run. I was the “official pencil sharpener.” I think I was 8. I went from office to office, taking everyone’s pencils, sharpening them, then putting them back. I also opened the mail. I didn’t actually take the mail out of the envelopes, but I used the opener to slit them open.

As I got older, my job responsibilities grew. I counted hours on the time cards. I did punch cards for the computer–a computer that took up an entire room, by the way, and had a name that was very long…I know it ended with Magillicuddy…my mother’s idea of a joke. I typed address labels with all the wrong fingers.

When I was a teenager, I drove the forklift. I also worked in the mold department, which has nothing whatsoever to do with that creepy stuff that grows on cheese or in the walls of humid houses in Florida. We make sand castings and they’re filled with sands that are baked into molds…you know what? It’s not that interesting, so I’ll leave it at that…but it was hot.

This is a photo from our real plant Then when I turned 16, you can understand why I decided that working at Kmart was a whole heck of a lot more appealing than working in the back of a manufacturing plant where layers of black dirt coated EVERYTHING. (The sand turns black when it is mixed with hot, molten aluminum and brass…in case you’re wondering–the photo to the right if from our plant.)

My next job was at an upscale boutique called Just Juniors. Talk about a step up! I had the best grades of my high school career during that job because I worked nights…alone (ahem…so not happening for my daughter!) and all I did was homework when we didn’t have customers.

Before college, I worked at a department store then called Burdines, but now swallowed by Macy’s. I loved that job. I was barely eighteen and was so good in training that I was bumped up to a higher position that meant I could handle returns. I had no idea then that this was NOT a good thing. I worked the whole summer, but when I pledged a sorority, I realized that an off-campus job was going to be more trouble than it was worth.

In college, I worked at the university’s television and radio station. I was in the fundraising department. After college, I was actually promoted to a full-time position, which I kept while I was in graduate school. Then came teaching. One half year internship and then a year at a public high school. In between, I took a job at a print shop…a job I kept during a good portion of the four years I taught in the private Catholic school that was my alma mater. Then two years at a private Catholic school in Georgia.

Then…

Secretary. Guess where? Yup…at the manufacturing business that started it all. I was there that day on March 14, 1997 at 11:14am when the call came in that I’d sold my first book.

Oh, and a month later, I found out I was having my baby.

So shortly after the birth of my daughter, I became a full-time mom and writer.

Long road. Fun jobs. Some not so fun…but nothing I quit quickly. No fast food joints. No restaurants (though I always wanted to be a bartender…he, he, he.) But I had lots of interactive jobs before I found myself buried in my hidey-hole, staring at white paper and black print and red pen for seven-hours straight and chatting up my 10-year-old neighbor because my daughter was at a playdate and I had to talk to SOMEONE.

So…revision craziness aside…what kind of jobs have you had? Which was your favorite? Which was the worst?

Family Reunion

Tuesday, August 14th, 2007
Leslie Icon

First, I want to say thanks to Carly for switching days with me. Mondays were becoming really difficult…now that I’m in my own house again and am doing different things on weekends, I was finding myself scrambling on Sunday nights to come up with something for the next day.

Yesterday would have been especially difficult because we had our first official party at my new house on Sunday! I had such a ball welcoming my two “local” sisters & their families here and repaying some of the marvelous hospitality they’ve shown us for such a long time. Plus, my father & stepmother were in town, as were my sister from Florida, her hubby & their two kids. My brother & his wife and my nephew came over from D.C. So yes, we had a houseful. Add some friends to the mix and we were a group of well over twenty.

Bruce did most of the hard work by cooking a fabulous pulled pork & ribs dinner in the smoker in the backyard. We had a ton of food and lots of beer and wine and just loads of fun. And we spent part of the day doing something you probably wouldn’t expect at a backyard bbq…we watched home movies.

You see, for several years, we’ve been having family reunions, but they’ve been kind of sporadic. There haven’t been too many when we’ve all been together. (In case you haven’t realized it, I have a very big family. Four older sisters & a younger brother. There are, of course, in-laws, plus 13 grandkids and 1 great-grandkid. And I’m not even going to talk about the aunts uncles & cousins…these reunions are just for the immediate “Smith” family.)

Anyway, at these reunions, the grandchildren have gotten into the habit of doing talent shows. Usually Broadway-based talent shows (since I used to be the director and now my girls have taken over the job.) But since they’re all older now, and didn’t have time to put something together this year, we made do watching the videos of previous ones.

They were just wonderful…but wow. Talk about getting smacked in the head with the passage of time. As we watched these movies, some with my youngest toddling around at age 1, and my other two daughters just beautiful little girls, I couldn’t help looking around the room at the faces, realizing just how much they’ve changed. My girls are all teens now, one really an adult. My nephew, the cute, funny little boy on the video was sitting next to me, 6’2, muscular, handsome…and asking his Mom if he had ADHD when he was little and she just never told him.

The adults had all changed, too…weight lost (or gained). Hair lost (not gained.) More wrinkles, more of us. And a few less of us…which made for a few poignant moments.

One thing was the same: the smiles. And the laughter of those of us watching the videos sounded just like the laughter on them.

Believe it or not, we get to do this all over again in a week’s time. You see, the sister from Florida is leaving on Saturday…and my eldest sister & her sons are coming to visit from Africa next Sunday! Talk about your lousy timing for those two sisters, but I, for one, am very excited. I think this one is going to rank as the longest-running family reunion we’ve ever had.

They’re loud and expensive and crowded and insane…but I wouldn’t trade these get-togethers for the world. Honestly, my family is utterly amazing and just so much darn fun. We all actually like being together.

As I was forcibly reminded by the home movies, we’re all getting older. We already know firsthand about loss because of the death of my Mom so many years ago…and that loss has left us all with a genuine appreciation of every wonderful moment we have with the people we love. Because there might not be a next one. Which makes these group moments…and those lovely home videos…even more wonderful.

Anybody else here do the family reunion thing? Are they wonderful for you…or stressful? Any traditions that have continued from year to year?

New Mondays

Monday, August 13th, 2007
Carly Icon

First, for those of you who like consistency, we need to let you know of a Plotmonkey change. Leslie will be taking Tuesdays and I’ll be blogging on Mondays, for whoever keeps track.

So for my first Monday blog, Janelle’s pics of hot guys (we can always count on Janelle for hotties) got me thinking of my upcoming book, SEALED WITH A KISS.

Who is Hunter? Who could play Hunter in a movie?

Well I know who I envisioned as I was writing it: Matthew McConaughey (the Matthew who showers and isn’t playing Bongos naked in his trailer). Well maybe a naked Matthew wouldn’t be so bad. Why did I choose him? Because although when you met Hunter in CROSS MY HEART, he was neatly dressed and cared about making an impression, the Hunter in SEALED WITH A KISS had a tough time in the eight or so months since Molly’s been gone. He’s picked up some of his old habits: eating pizza out of the box, drinking beer instead of high falutin’ Vodka brands, and he bought himself a motorcycle. So you can see when I fell over a picture of him on a bike, Hunter immediately came to mind. Unfortunately when I went to find it again to show you all, it was gone. But this one works for me too:

What about you? Who do you think could play Hunter??

Winner and Sunday Funny

Sunday, August 12th, 2007
Carly Icon

The winner of the bag of Hershey’s Kisses and a signed ARC of SEALED WITH A KISS and a signed copy of CROSS MY HEART is:

Leslie in GA (Comment #10)

Be sure to contact me at carly@carlyphillips.com with your full name and address so I can get your prize package in the mail to you (after I return from my vacation! )

And now for fun, here’s MY Outrageous Name:


Your Outrageous Name is:


Ivana P. Now

Outrageous Name Generator

WHAT’S YOUR OUTRAGEOUS NAME?
For the record, I put in my first and last name (Carly Phillips)

HAPPY SUNDAY!