Today I’m blogging about my favorite romance plots over at Access Romance. Stop by, say hi, and leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Sweeter Than Revenge.

Flowers are a-bloomin around here. I’ve been getting to know my digital camera a little better and taking some pictures, so here they are, apropos of nothing.

I’ve signed the contract, so I guess it’s really, REALLY official: I’m going to be participating in Lori Foster’s summer, 2009 anthology, Tails of Love, along with the following other authors:

· Kate Angell

· Stella Cameron

· Dianne Castell

· Marcia James

· Donna MacMeans

· Sarah McCarty

· Patricia Sargeant; and

· Sue-Ellen Welfonder.

Turns out my friend Patricia Sargeant, who knows I love cats (we have two rescue cats, Sadie and Savannah), referred me to Lori for this project, which will benefit a local animal shelter, the Animal Adoption Foundation.

I am, obviously, extremely excited and grateful.

Lori has a heart as big as Texas, in case you didn’t know. This summer’s anthology (I’m not a part of this one–*SOB!*), The Power of Love, will benefit the Battered Women’s Shelter of Cincinnati. It’s available for pre-order, so you should get your copies (note the plural!) early.

If you can stand to learn any more about my RT adventures, here’s a drive-by video of me shot by the lovely Barbara Vey, Publisher’s Weekly blogger extraordinaire. You’ll see me with author Catherine Chernow, who sat next to me at the signing…

Here are a few more pics from RT, in no particular order. Run your mouse over the pic for its description.

Well, I made it safely home from Pittsburgh, where I had the time of my life at the Romantic Times BOOKlovers Convention and won the Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Kimani Press of the Year for Just About Sex. I was thrilled beyond belief and, as I said at the time, grateful to be included in a category with so many talented authors.

The low point of the convention was the last portion of an otherwise lovely drive to Pittsburgh. There was some sort of a weird disconnect between where my TripTik ended and the hotel’s website directions began, and so, when I was nearly close enough to the city to be able to see the three rivers I’d heard so much about, I got lost.

Hopelessly, utterly, ridiculously LOST.

The more I tried to get un-lost, the lost-er I got, until finally I had to call the hotel and be navigated home by a bellman like a Boeing 757 with broken landing gear on the horn with air traffic control.

I finally arrived at 11:30 p.m. feeling irritated and sheepish, but the first person I saw was, luckily, the beautiful and funny Kayla Perrin, who told me that she, too, had found the Pittsburgh highways especially tricky to navigate.

This was the only downer in a wonderful few days. Well, that and the ten minute blackout in the ballroom at the end of the signing, which added a little additional drama.

Here, in no particular order, are some of the many highlights:

· Giving my No More Lazy Scenes workshop with HelenKay Dimon and Sasha White;

· Sitting on the multicultural authors panel and laughing my head off with the crowd and other authors, including L.A. Banks, Caridad Pinero, Marjorie M. Liu, Camille Anthony and Kimberly Kaye Terry, the multicultural genre captain and a truly lovely and fun woman;

· Attending the Under the Sea Faery Ball with Eve Silver and enjoying the, ah, myriad and varied costumes;

· Sitting on the contemporary authors panel with Lori Foster, Lori Wilde, Christie Craig and Sharon Sala;

· Spending time with my editors and publisher;

· Finally meeting author friend Maureen Smith face-to-face;

· Embarrassingly gushy fangirl moments with some of my author heroines, including Brenda Jackson, Lisa Jackson, L.A. Banks, and J.R. Ward;

· Catching up with LifetimeTV’s Michelle Buonfiglio, one of the romance genre’s greatest advocates and a wonderful woman;

· Being rescued out of the loooooong breakfast buffet line by the very considerate Gwyneth Bolton and aspiring author Felicia from Chicago; and

· Connecting with readers at the book signing.

While I’m glad to be back home with the husband and younglings, I miss my friends already, not to mention the thrill of adrenalin and inspiration that always comes from connecting with others who love the romance genre as much as I do.

So … how many days until the next convention???

Here are a few pics. Run your mouse over them for descriptions. More pics tomorrow …

Today I’m blogging about momnesia over with Michelle Buonfiglio and the bellas. Stop by and say hi. I’m giving away copies of Sweeter Than Revenge…

Today I’m blogging about hating winter over at Access Romance. Stop by, say hi, and leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Sweeter Than Revenge.

I’ve been thinking and talking a lot about my writing process recently, and have come to think of it as a giant puzzle that I need to put together—say, a thousand pieces or so—without benefit of a picture to see what the finished puzzle should look like.

The process is, in short, a frustrating mystery to me, something designed to make me want to occasionally pull my hair out by the roots.

But there is one thing I’ve figured out: I always have a tiny moment of panic when I’m two-thirds of the way through the book. A moment of wondering, what the hell happens now? I think it has something to do with being within striking distance of the end of the book and wondering about all those loose ends that still need to be tied. All those elements that I threw into the book, thinking that they’d lead somewhere and I’d figure it out later, when the lightning bolt of inspiration finally struck me. Only later is now here and I still haven’t figured it out. Two-thirds of the way through is when I start thinking about word count and all the things that still need to be crammed into, say, a hundred pages.

Two-thirds is when I ask myself what I was thinking with this book. Why did I think this book about these people was such a great idea? The synopsis is no help, because of course the synopsis, as I’ve already discussed, is a patchwork of cobbled-together ideas that lead nowhere helpful.

Two-thirds of the way is where I get hopelessly, frustratingly, maddeningly STUCK.

If you’re wondering why I’m whining about this now, I’ll tell you. It’s because I’m two-thirds of the way through my February, 2009 book, A Friendly Love Affair, and I am … wait for it … stuck. Like a saber-tooth tiger in a tar pit. Like a fly in a Venus fly trap. Like a bear with a paw in a trap.

STUCK, I tell you. Stuck, stuck, STUCK.

The good thing is that, having been through this so-called process several times before, I know that being stuck right now is normal for me. I will get myself un-stuck. I’ve done it before and will do it this time, even if I can’t, at this very moment, see HOW.

Somehow, I’ll get it done. But until then I’m … yeah, well, I’m just stuck.

My Harlequin editor has e-mailed me to say that I need to trim forty (yes, FORTY—do not adjust your screens) pages from my October book, Tender Secrets, on account of the new, reduced, word count. Oh, sure, I knew about the new word count, but I foolishly assumed it applied to books turned in after March. No dice. That’s what I get for assuming things, I suppose. And me, a former lawyer. You’d think I’d know better than assuming anything.

*Hanging head in shame*

And do you want to know the worst thing? Do you? Huh? I’d already trimmed and slashed about forty pages to get the book down to the old word count. Where’m I gonna find ANOTHER forty pages to trim? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Pray for me, okay?

So now I’m sharpening my knives and getting ready to kill my babies, which is what Stephen King calls it when you have to go in and get rid of all the extraneous, though beloved, stuff in your book. It’s for the greater good, right?

And I’m thinking maybe I can turn this lemon into some lemonade. I think maybe I’ll add a members-only page to my site for readers to see all the stuff that doesn’t make the final cut. That could be good.

This snafu has got me thinking, writers … what’s the most painful edit you’ve ever made? Do tell so I don’t feel like the only one out here suffering in the wilderness.