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Page 25:

I had stayed with my mom for awhile right after my dad died. I lasted three weeks and was just now getting over the trauma of it. My mother had answered my cell phone, read my email, critiqued my show scenes, made me half-sandwiches—looking pointedly at my stomach—and wouldn’t let me drink what she still called “pop” after five o’clock. I still regret snapping the day she asked me if I had brushed my teeth. “It’s not you, it’s me,” I had to break up with my own mother and move out.

I sneaked a look at my watch. “Mom, look. I’m sorry. We’ll do more stuff together, I promise. You’re starting your workout class on Monday, right?”

She nodded.

“So, how about it? Dad’s computer?” (Win the grand prize! The 2nd secret word in the 25-word sentence is: to)

“Ellen, I’m sorry. You just have to trust me here, but I cannot let you use your dad’s computer. It just wouldn’t be right.”

“Give me one good reason why not.” I glared at her, feeling like an adult scolding a child, almost wanting to add, “young lady,” just like she always used to do to me when she busted my chops over something.

She twisted her fingers, and wouldn’t look at me. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she finally said.

Duh – duh – duh . . .

Keep hopping! Click here to return to the list of blogs.

All My Restless Life to Live —Life is a soap opera, especially for Elle Miller, who writes for one. (Ellen dropped the “n” in her name in hopes of finding a better ending for herself.) When her laptop crashes, she borrows her recently deceased dad’s computer and gets way more than she bargained for.
Elle unravels mysterious communications from his computer, while her mom decides to give Internet dating a try. As Elle tries to save her career at I’d Rather Be Loved with a storyline featuring a trip through Atlantis, she takes a trip to the Emmys, and finds herself in the middle of a romance between a real doctor and a hunk who just plays one on TV. Friends, family, and clues from “the other side” all help Elle figure out the difference between living the good life and living a good life. Available Tuesday, June 4th!

Ooooh!

Hmmm . . .

WTF?

FML.

Sigh.

Is it safe?

New to blog hops? Want to learn how to win the grand prize? Find complete information here.

Page 25:

I had stayed with my mom for awhile right after my dad died. I lasted three weeks and was just now getting over the trauma of it. My mother had answered my cell phone, read my email, critiqued my show scenes, made me half-sandwiches—looking pointedly at my stomach—and wouldn’t let me drink what she still called “pop” after five o’clock. I still regret snapping the day she asked me if I had brushed my teeth. “It’s not you, it’s me,” I had to break up with my own mother and move out.

I sneaked a look at my watch. “Mom, look. I’m sorry. We’ll do more stuff together, I promise. You’re starting your workout class on Monday, right?”

She nodded.

“So, how about it? Dad’s computer?” (Win the grand prize! The 2nd secret word in the 25-word sentence is: to)

“Ellen, I’m sorry. You just have to trust me here, but I cannot let you use your dad’s computer. It just wouldn’t be right.”

“Give me one good reason why not.” I glared at her, feeling like an adult scolding a child, almost wanting to add, “young lady,” just like she always used to do to me when she busted my chops over something.

She twisted her fingers, and wouldn’t look at me. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she finally said.

Duh – duh – duh . . .

Keep hopping! Click here to return to the list of blogs.

All My Restless Life to Live —Life is a soap opera, especially for Elle Miller, who writes for one. (Ellen dropped the “n” in her name in hopes of finding a better ending for herself.) When her laptop crashes, she borrows her recently deceased dad’s computer and gets way more than she bargained for.
Elle unravels mysterious communications from his computer, while her mom decides to give Internet dating a try. As Elle tries to save her career at I’d Rather Be Loved with a storyline featuring a trip through Atlantis, she takes a trip to the Emmys, and finds herself in the middle of a romance between a real doctor and a hunk who just plays one on TV. Friends, family, and clues from “the other side” all help Elle figure out the difference between living the good life and living a good life. Available Tuesday, June 4th!

Haole Wood is a 2013 Next Generation Indie Book Award Finalist, AND a finalist for The San Diego Book Awards Association!

A couple of falls, followed by a medical crisis with her boyfriend, “The Colonel,” (who lived with her and took care of her) and she spiraled into needing twenty-four hour care. My husband went into a series of “lasts” . . . the last picture taken in her own home, and possibly the last one with him. We took her house keys out of her purse, she won’t be needing those anymore. We threw away her soy sauce, brown sludge that must have been in her refrigerator since 1999.

We took her to breakfast, and a (final) walk through the park next to her house. We stopped at a water fountain and my husband, who was trying so hard to squeeze every moment of now out of the day, held his mom’s arm. He gave her a penny and told her to make a wish. She tossed it and we watched that penny make its arc in slow motion. She didn’t have any wishes left. Fucking Alzheimer’s.

Reader Unboxed Book Review:

All The Lonely People — Jess Riley

Where do they all come from? In All The Lonely People, main character Jaime, who has lost her mother to cancer, realizes she and her siblings do not like each other: “We weren’t that family. We didn’t organize rummage sales together, we didn’t send one another birthday cards . . . We carried entire bowls of chips on our shoulders, with dip.”

Even her sweet husband gets the short end of the stick: “There will come a day when the idea of having sex feels like going to the gym—you know you should do it even when you don’t feel like it, you’re usually glad you did afterwards.”

A classic fight at Thanksgiving dinner leads Jaime to take drastic measures. She takes out an ad on Craigslist for a new family for Christmas, creating a list of demands for ideal relatives. Number seven? “Please be funny and don’t take yourself seriously.”

Set in Wisconsin, all the lonely people who answer the ad first meet for Christmas dinner, bringing their own hurts and hearts to the table. Jaime creates a new bond with this ragtag group of outsiders, as she realizes she is not blameless in manufacturing disappointment. As the story plays out over Jaime’s least favorite time of year, “. . .that frozen, dreary long night that lasts from January to March . . .” all the lonely people try to figure out where they all belong.

Author Jess Riley pulls off a refreshing look at the vulnerability of family dynamics, with all the charm and fierceness of a Midwesterner “shut in during a three-day howler piling snowdrifts against the front door.” Underneath the very funny dialogue that reveals the human absurdities of the loneliness and dysfunction hiding in families, Jamie gets a chance to look for tribal connections through her niece Hannah, the superglue of the family. Quirky characters with insights about life and love make me wish for more MidwestLit!

Bonus: Cool author alert! The virtual Jess Riley is as charming as you would suspect by reading her book.

Up next: July 16th, Mandatory Release (mandatory read!).

Fish are jumpin’ and the bookworms are nigh . . .

(Sorry.) Please go check out the Summer Reading Road Trip to see what all the cool kids will be reading!

So hush, little baby, don’t you cry!

Please do not read any farther. (Note: I Grammar Girl Googled farther vs. further. Now both words are stuck in my head and neither sounds real.) If you do need to take a quick break from getting on your giddyup for The Winds of Winter (2015? Really?) you may want to check out what your fans are saying on Goodreads.

I, on the other hand, obviously have plenty of time to kill. Thanks to some crazzzzy Amazon algorithms, we were hanging out—Cheers from Ros.

Give my best to Jon Snow! See you soon—Game of Thrones, Sunday, March 31st!

From Mrs. Drinkwater, who’s name somehow highlights both her lack of cooking skills and fondness for stealing India’s liquor, to the stinky Vincent, who’s still not allowed on the cushions due to his eau de filth, India is at her smartest, most sarcastic self. Through twists and turns among the villainous anarchists, India reveals just enough to let us wonder what she’s up to.

The spy stuff is brilliant, but those tantalizing personal pieces of the puzzle—moments with French, the mystery surrounding her mother, and oh, those notes to and from the Marchioness Tullibardine, (which could be a short story itself!)—tie the whole adventure together. We are amused.

Rating: Inhaled!

Still not convinced? Then check out her short story, India Black and The Rajah’s Ruby.

Meet my BFF, whom I’ve never actually met, for Pete’s sake, author Jess Riley. In Closer Than They Appear, a chance encounter at a stop light begins the quest that had me Midwestern rooting for her charming, quirky characters.

But let me back up, for Pete’s sake. Jess had me at her intro, up through and all the way to the bonus vegetarian recipes at the end, (that I will never, ever make), best served with Tostitos and cabana boys named Gustavo!

Hey Jess, I will see your Festival Bingo (you’ll have to read about it yourself!) and raise you my adult relationship-building coloring book, Men Are From Jupiter, That’s Why They’re Stupider!

I am sure Ms. Semple isn’t sitting around Googling herself (like some insecure misfits I could name), but if she was, I’d like to think that maybe she saw me raising a fruity, pineapple toast in her direction.

“No, you need to listen,” I said automatically. Turns out he was confused by who’s who in Game of Thrones. Fair enough.

“We need to talk,” he said. I was perhaps taking my parenting skills a trifle too seriously.

“I don’t have time,” I said. He was trying to convince me to drink more. Fair enough.

We need to talk, about books with Mr. Perfect. There is no such creature. And if there was some sap out there brave enough to spout sweet nothings: “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you,” or “You are my soul mate,” I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face, let alone want to show him my undies.

Fantasy pillow talk: (Woman lying in bed with hair in rolled up tube sock from YouTube tutorial who may have forgotten to brush her teeth.)

Prince Charming: “I adore you, you are mine, I can’t live without you, my beautiful everything.”

Normal pillow talk:

Real Guy: “Nice hair. Do you wanna?” (If he can make me laugh, he knows his odds are pretty-pretty good.)

“We need to talk.”

“How about I get you a cup of shut the eff up?”

The fabulous Carol K. Carr kicked off this year with the second historical romance in her series, India Black and The Widow of Windsor. We are amused! India Black (Tres) and The Shadows of Anarchy will be out in February. Go behind-the-scenes to see how it all started, with Carol’s eshort, (to be released New Year’s Eve) India Black and the Rajah’s Ruby!

Off to the south Pacific, please meet the lovely Kiana Davenport who is as gracious as she is talented. Start with her Opium Dreams —one of the most beautifully imagined, well-written collection of short stories I have ever read. “Because love, the search for it, the failure of it, and especially the loss of it, is how we progress and mature, how we attain an inner nobility.” Mahalo, Kiana!

I went all in early on when Apron realizes that “Laura Ingalls Wilder was the nicest girl I’d ever not known.” The heartache of middle school? Check: “But brains didn’t need bras, so boys never noticed me.” Girl Unmoored is a beautifully written, amazing read. And Jennifer Gooch Hummer better be working on a new novel!

Three generations of women. Four secrets. One stage. (And a beautiful cover.) In Something New, Malena Lott expertly intertwines four romantic stories in this page-turning contemporary novel, for readers in love with love! I’m also checking out her other novels—le sigh!

See Jane Date. See Jane Dine. See Jane Dash. In A State of Jane, see Plain Jane, as she finally listens to her heart in this very well-written chick lit tale.  Awesome author Meredith Schorr delivers, right up to the very last page!

Goddess Marian Keyes is working on a new novel, working title: Project Karma. Pinch me now!

Happy Hula Days to All!

Here is a crazy good getting-to-know you video bio – not a boring frame to be found, from the co-star of MTV’s new show, Catfish:

Max Joseph, Catfish

So how to translate that to an official bio? While it wouldn’t hurt to be an award-winning film director and star, don’t be afraid to make an ass of yourself, because you are. I know you are but what am I?

————————————–

DEE DeTARSIO is considering a nom de plume, believing that Delilah could come up with better steamy scenes.

Catfish crew hard at work on John’s Birthday (that he unsuccessfully tried to keep secret).

Behind-the scenes production on MTV’s new reality show, Catfish, starring Nev Schulman and Max Joseph, was an all-encompassing, emotionally draining, huge-hearted adventure of intimacy, vulnerability and love. Or as I like to call it, one big Testosterone Festival. My husband, John, was the Director of Photography, and had way too much fun.

I don’t know what it was about Nev and Max, and John’s HOR, (Husband on the Road) Executive Producer David Metzler, that turned John into an uncouth, boorish teenager. I’m thinking the grueling schedule spent working together through the summer must have led to DBS (Deadly Buildup of Sperm). Or as the penis-less call it, Don’t Be Stupid.

I can’t order a deli sandwich with a dill pickle without it turning into a sexually charged situation. That’s what she said is so 2000-never. (I didn’t even bother to ask for help to caulk the shower.) John came home with some cockamamie (Oh my gosh, now I’m doing it) fist bump, with a sound effect *bleep* thumbs-up that just needs to stop. (He blames Nev.) He also seems to think he can say something ridiculous, honk my boobs, then add, “M’lady,” as if that makes everything charming. It does not.

I can only imagine what those poor guys, Nev and Max and David had to put up with, to say nothing of the rest of the crew. For the women on the mission, please accept my deepest apologies and know that John was not born in a barn.

Catfish premiers on MTV MONDAY, NOVEMBER 12 AT 11:00 P.M.
Cat·fish [kat-fish] noun — a person who pretends to be someone they’re not,
using social media to create a false identity, particularly to pursue deceitful online romances.

Success is such a strong word . . .

Five books, seven covers, hundreds of reviews and a kabillion category changes later, I am applying for a spot on the Amazon Success Story scoreboard. Full disclosure: while I am not making enough to pay for Lululemon writing pants, I could probably spring for a pair of LuluLychees. (I would buy those.)

I lost my ego along with the placenta of my first-born, making writing a natural career choice. More than seven hundred rejections, three agents, and close-but-no-cigar publishers toying with my affections, I perversevered. (I know that’s not a real word, but it should be.)

Two years ago I pulled Amazon’s finger and brought forth on this continent, a new book, conceived in loneliness and dedicated to the proposition that all writers are weird. Now we are engaged in a great uncivil war, testing whether any book so conceived can long endure . . . (Please stop picturing me in a homespun Laura Ingalls Wilder dress, churning butter. I’m trying to thank Amazon here.)

Prototype of the new Fondle logo?

I owe Amazon a debt of gratitude, or at least a 70% royalty.  Amazon’s cast and crew is conscientious and kind, and it feels great to be welcomed into their creative vortex.

I am on the edge of my seat, as both a reader and a writer, waiting to see what happens next. Suggestion box: Say someone was reading her kindle, drinking a glass of wine, and eating a chocolate brownie bundt cake, which resulted in a juggling mishap–with a happy ending. Siri suggests you call it the Fondle. (I’d tap that app.)

Sincerely,
Dee DeTarsio

Goddess Marian Keyes

Happy Birthday to Marian Keyes, Best Author on The Planet! Only 3 more days to her new novel, The Mystery of Mercy Close, and I 5-Star recommend her Mammy Walsh family history!

I fangirl double-heart Marian Keyes because her books shine with the magic of laughing at the sadness of life.

I dedicated my novel, Ros, to Marian Keyes—#FREE this week.

To Marian Keyes—and to the Marian Keyes in every woman—that smart, funny, sad, put-upon, brave part of your soul that makes this world a brighter place.

Amanda McKittrick Ros

This teacher/novelist/poet provided hours of entertainment to fellow writers—an Oxford literary group, which included C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, held competitions to see who could read her work the longest without laughing. When a critic sarcastically called it “the book of the century,”  Ros suggested he was so hostile because he was secretly in love with her.

“. . .He found himself, altogether unconsciously, clasping her to his bosom, whilst the ruby rims which so recently proclaimed accusations and innocence met with unearthly sweetness, chasing every fault over the hills of doubt . . .”