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| Hello! Welcome to my
website, and thanks for the interest that brought you
here.
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| HOW IT ALL BEGAN
I started writing my first romance
novel in secret. I was working a temp job in an insurance
office in Manhattan at the time, and the office manager had
made it clear that even if there was nothing to do, I still
had to look busy-- never one of my big talents. I felt bad
about the wasted time, though, and I needed something to round
out my other chosen career, which was singing. Yeah, that's
right. Most artists choose a more practical Plan B to back
up their improbable Plan A. Me? No way. "Long Shot" is my
middle name.
So I sneakily set up a Document 1 and
a Document 2 with a spreadsheet on it. If my Boss du Jour
walked by I could quick-like-a-bunny switch screens, and whenever
the coast was clear, I went back to my story. Not that I was
slacking, mind you. If there was work to be done, I did it.
The sneakiness felt familiar, though, because I've been teased
about reading romances since I was a kid. I think the day
I finally grew up was the day I stopped trying to cover up
what I was reading on the bus, train or subway. Let people
think whatever they like.
It wasn't until I moved to Italy (details
of that Long Shot provided later on) that I got serious about
writing, though. I found myself with many long, quiet days
alone with nothing to do, so I slogged my way bravely to the
end of the manuscript and sent it out. Everybody rejected
it-except for Kensington. I wrote for them for a few years,
and then made a bid for an erotic novella for the new Brava
imprint, and oh joy, they accepted it. Then I wrote BEHIND
CLOSED DOORS. And so on, and so forth.
That's how I started. I can't think of
anything I'd rather do. I never knew it would be so scary,
and so hard . . . all that solitude and silence, a blank computer
screen, and no one to blame. But still. It's worth it. It's
great.
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| MY OTHER LIFE
I was originally convinced that
I wanted to make it as a singer in NYC, so I was temping to
support my music habit. I sang with various ensembles that
performed medieval and renaissance music, I sang lead in a
fabulous Celtic fusion band, I sang church gigs, I sang weddings
and funerals, smoky cabaret and country/blues, Christmas carols
dressed in a Dickens outfit in shopping malls, I was even
a strolling madrigal singer at the Renaissance Faire in one
of those cleavage-enhancing lace-up bodice thingies. I did
everything I could possibly think of to make the rent. Those
were my wild years. Then, Italy…which is a lot mellower than
NYC. And oh. The food. Words fail me.
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| ROMANTIC ASIDE
A brief word about the Renaissance
Faire. I never did a goofier, more ridiculous or worse-paying
gig, but I have to say, the place was a sizzling hotbed of
summer romance. Such a variety of gorgeous men in tights to
choose from, and I've always loved historical romances. Yum.
Then one day, I saw a group of Italian
musicians strolling by. They were all handsome, as Italians
are wont to be, but the lute player was just delicious. His
legs in tights surpassed all other legs, and those long, tanned
fingers twinkled so deftly over the lute strings, it just
made me quiver. His name was Nicola, and he didn't speak a
word of English, but I was undaunted. I followed him around,
dreaming up excuses to talk to him, insofar as I could. Then
I saw him at the cast campfire that night, whipping up a delicious
pasta dish over two tiny camp stoves for more than fifty people
with such grace and flair, my knees sagged beneath me. What
could be sexier than a man who can cook? After we devoured
his bounty off paper plates, he played Bach for us on his
classical guitar, naked to the waist in the flickering firelight,
green eyes flashing. Hold me back. (No one did.)
The ultimate
summer romance ensued, but he went back to Italy when
the
summer was over. I resigned myself to a bittersweet memory
of What Might Have Been, but I couldn't stop thinking
about
him. A year later, I quit my job, broke my lease, put my
stuff in a friend's basement, bought a ticket to Italy,
and went
to find him. Yeah, it was nuts…but we've been together for two decades now. Really. Passion makes you reckless. Must've
been
the effect of all those romance novels.
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Improbable though it may seem, it worked
out fine. Now I live in Southern Italy, of all things, and
oh, if I ever thought I needed a challenge or an adventure,
this is certainly that. Someday I'll write a book about it.
It'll be a sharp-edged comedy. But when it comes to love,
Nicola will always be my inspiration. |
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