Friday, July 26, 2013

Working on the sequel to The Getaway Girls: A New Orleans Tale of Monsters. Mayhem and Moms. Unfortunately, right about now it should be titled, The Getaway Novel: A Book That Can't Make Up Its Mind Whether To Take place in Jamaica or Dallas.  Books are like children sometimes - very stubborn and one day they seem glorious and you're in love . . . and the next you're wondering what the hell to do with them for the next hour.

So, here's my list of pros and cons - I'm taking suggestions, so if you have a comment, feel free to leave:

Pros for having book take place in Jamaica:

1. The book ends with a hint that the women will reunite in Jamaica
2.  The lush tropical setting and relaxed ambience . . . or as the Getaway Girls would put it: beaches, boys, and booze
3.  Ian Fleming wrote James Bond books in Jamaica - how can I go wrong?

1. Only one, but it's a biggie. I've never been there.  Was supposed to go there on a tenth anniversary trip a few weeks ago, but those plans had to be canceled for multiple reasons.  Filing a passport application with my destination listed as Jamaica was as close as I got. I have Red Stripe beer in my fridge right now, does that count?

Pros for having book take place in Dallas:

1. I live here, I could describe this place blindfolded. Except that would be pretty dull, so I won't. (It was hot. Real hot. It smelled hot.  It felt hot).
2. The lush (mosquito-plagued) 102 degree scene outside my window right now would make an excellent place for mayhem and murder. Not that I'm planning anything, just pointing out the obvious.
3. Did I mention the heat? Seriously, if you were a flesh-eating scavenger, wouldn't you want to romp through the woods, taking out sweaty joggers and heat-crazed soccer moms?  Again, perhaps that's just me.

1. It's not Jamaica. Sniff.

You see my dilemma.  Of course, the most obvious choice of venue would have been New Orleans again, but I'm saving that for Book 3. (And of course, I'll need another NOLA visit to refresh my memory, won't I?)

Happy Friday - and remember, nothing says TGIF like a book about flesh-eating scavengers, kickass moms, some snippy vampires and a cocky Irishman.  Well, except maybe that Loverboy song about working for the weekend, but that's not gonna last you the weekend, is it?  Get yourself a copy of The Getaway Girls: A New Orleans Tale of Monsters, Mayhem and Moms  and a bottle of cheap vino - voila, instant Friday fix. You won't be sorry, I promise!

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Top Five Reasons Not to Take a Scavenger to 4th of July

So it's a little late, but after spending a week or so on vacation, I thought of...
Top Five Reasons Not to Take a Scavenger to See 4th of July Fireworks

1.  Um, there's fire? And if you've read my book, you already know they loathe fire.  And you know what's worse than random fire shooting into the air? A bloodthirsty maniac with a healthy fire phobia.  Either he'll eat everything in sight or cling to you like a kid to his blankie. Either way your night is screwed.

2. Port o'potties = easy pickings for a flesh-eater.  And really, aren't portable toilets bad enough without worrying that your date for the night is chomping on anyone inside?  Yuck. Plus, afterwards you know they'll just ask you for hand sanitizer.

3. Sand in your shoes means it's way harder to run for your life - and really, having to race from a flesh-eater is bad enough, without picking mosquito bites and bits of shell from your toes.  Is it too much to ask for a flat surface?

4. A crowded beach full of folks is simply too much temptation for anyone with a tendency for homicide, and your flesh-eating pal is no exception.  Do you really think Carl would wait for the grand finale to wipe out half the shore? Talk about a holiday buzz-kill.

5.  Scavengers are notorious for many things.  Knowing the words to the national anthem is not one of them. They cannot carry a tune to save their lives - or yours - or anyone else's. Frankly, they're tone-deaf and it's just plain painful. As is having your throat ripped out.  'Nuff said.

Saturday, July 6, 2013


So - on vacation, suffering sunburn and drinking wine and cooking. The upside? After you go to Florida and see that everyone and their grandmother wears bikinis, you are suddenly no longer so self-conscious about wearing one yourself. Despite the "yeah, I had 2 kids" belly.  Which I am trying to tan in the hopes it makes everything look smaller.

Saw a fantastic movie, which I have to recommend - The Heat.  Why don't they make more female-driven buddy cop- movies?  Melissa McCarthy kills, as does Sandra Bullock. Also, that hot Hispanic dude who was in Weeds. I think.  Only thing that would make this movie better? Um. Dwayne Johnson or Channing Tatum. Just sayin'. But seriously, the movie rocked.  And I say this after going to a new and uber-overpriced theater in Naples where they obscenely overcharged for the privilege of sitting in a theater where I could order cocktails.  Which I didn't because - see price o' movie tickets.

But you know what I watched on Netflix from my condo this afternoon? Double Jeopardy. New Orleans. No matter where I am on vacation, that magical city remains magic.  Laissez le bon temp roulez!