(with thanks to Beth Williamson for the reminder of this awesome video)

Even though I love Ms Osborne’s Silver Lining (review here), I had not sought out any of her other novels—I’m not exactly sure why. However, Super Librarian Wendy has talked about loving most of what Ms Osborne has written¹ and… well, when I saw a copy of Shotgun Wedding at the USB last week, I just couldn’t resist it.

Set in the late 1800s or very early 1900s, the novel details events occurring during the few months between late Spring and early Fall in the small Kansas town of Marshall.

Here’s the back cover blurb:

Annie Malloy is in a fix. She’s gotten herself into the worst kind of trouble, and there’s really only one way out. It seems the town’s handsome new sheriff, Jesse Harden, has taken a shine to her—and has offered her a way to end the scandal once and for all. But Annie soon finds that the quiet life she once lived has been exchanged for one full of chance, desire, and the breathtaking possibility of true love.

Jesse John Harden has always followed his instincts and has no doubt that he can turn this marriage of convenience into a true marriage of the heart. With each day that passes the bond between him and his pretty new wife grows stronger and the spark between them gets hotter. But Annie is hiding a secret that could destroy their delicate happiness. Now Jesse must convince Annie to let him stand beside her to face the past so they can have a chance at a happy future.

The first thing that struck me as I began to read the novel was that once again Ms Osborne’s writing drew me into the story so deeply that I couldn’t stop reading—even when at times I wanted to.

As the novel starts, we learn that Annie Malloy has been having an affair with a rather not-desirable sort of man and that she finds herself pregnant. He offers her marriage, but since he’s a bank robber, she realizes that she can’t marry him.

Which leaves her in a rather difficult position.

See, Annie Malloy is twenty five years old, a spinster, only child of one of the premiere citizens of Marshall. She’s well read, rather opinionated, independent in her actions and thinking—and pregnant and unwed in a small town, without personal means to support herself.

After several weeks of outright denial, and once it’s evident even to Annie that the pregnancy will not disappear like a bad dream, she is forced to tell her parents. Her life as she has known it starts to truly unravel at this point: her father, who has indulged her outrageously all her life, slaps her face—twice—demanding to know the name of the blackguard who impregnated his daughter. When Annie refuses to reveal the identity of her lover, her father banishes her from his presence. Her mother, who has to this point allowed Annie a level of independence most single ladies wouldn’t achieve until well past middle age, can’t forgive Annie’s abuse of her trust—nor the damage the scandal will cause the family’s social standing.

Everything in Annie’s life starts to crumble once word of her pregnancy starts, inevitably, to spread around town: from her erstwhile friends at the Modern Woman Association to the library’s book club, neither Annie nor her family are welcome anymore, even before the pregnancy shows. Once it does, social ruin starts to veer into shunning, and Annie’s misery seems complete.

All, however, is not lost, because the town’s sheriff has been showing interest in Annie for a while—and things definitely look up for her when he offers her marriage.

Jess Harden is a total dream of a man, and I love Ms Osborne for not making him two-dimensional. Jess is handsome, honest, decent, hard-working and considerate, but at no time does the reader feel that he’s too good to be true. From the beginning, his reasons for accepting Annie’s pregnancy and offering to love her child as if it were his own ring true. His relationship with Ione, his mother, is loving and close without being cloying or smothering (on either side).

As the story starts, the reader sees Jess as an adult, grown man, sure of himself, his opinions and his life, but at the same time he’s self-aware enough to indulge in introspection regarding his attraction to Annie and the potential for a reasonably happy future for the two of them, considering her pregnancy, her refusal to name the father, and the scandal of their ‘shotgun’ wedding.

There are a number of secondary characters in the story who, in their own way, have an impact on both Jess and Annie, and in their developing relationship. Ione, Jess’ mother, is the embodiment of many of Annie’s notions of what a New Modern Woman should be, without being shrill, bitter, or so independent as to cross the line into stupid. This is a woman who owns her mistakes with the same heart as her triumphs, who knows her own mind and heart, but who isn’t so set in her ways as to be incapable of bending.

Annie’s parents, Ellen and Harry Malloy, are also engaging in their own way—those two slaps notwithstanding. Their reaction to Annie’s pregnancy is not only motivated by the damage to their social standing, but also by the sense of betrayal they feel: they trusted Annie, they allowed her an, at the time, unheard-of independence. They love her, have always wanted the best for her—even when what she wanted flew right in the face of what they wanted, such as her marrying and giving them legitimate grandchildren—and her betrayal of that trust and that love is all the more painful for it.

Interestingly, another well-developed character is the villain of the piece (aka, the father of Annie’s baby). As the novel starts, Bodie Miller is portrayed as your typical too-handsome-for-his-own-good, ne’er-do-well man. He is selfish to the bone, and while he’s willing to ‘do right by’ Annie by marrying her, he is adamant about not letting any ‘skirt’ dictate how he’ll live his life: she either marries him as he is, or she can go have ‘her bastard’ by herself. When Annie marries Jess instead, Bodie’s already twisted perception of honor, reality and ‘the right thing,’ compounded by the knowledge that if the law got its hands on him he’d hang, slides into an accelerating spiral into madness.

At the same time that I applauded having a three-dimensional villain for a change, I had to stop and ponder why so much time was devoted to Bodie, and my sad conclusion is that this was the only way Ms Osborne could find to justify, at least to some degree, Annie’s actions, reactions and decisions throughout the novel.

The premise of this novel is excellent and Ms Osborne delivers on many levels, but I just couldn’t get past the fact that Annie annoys the hell out of me. Honestly, she does. There is this see-sawing she does, when one moment she seems finally grown up, then the next she goes back to being childish, spoiled, and—much worse—stupid¹. It boils down to this: I am having a very difficult time believing that any woman in her circumstances wouldn’t have understood the consequences to her family—let alone herself and the child—once she turned up pregnant out of wedlock.

Therefore, it is with great regret that I give Shotgun Wedding a 6.75 out of 10

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¹ Coincidentally, I agree quite a bit with SLWendy’s assessment of Annie: she’s not quite too stupid to live, but she is stupid, and when she does stop to think, she doesn’t seem able to see beyond the surface of things, events or people.

It would seem that someone is suffering from withdrawals, not getting enough attention lately.

Seriously, people, this is the new comment on a two years old post:

I don’t see what the big deal is with Chancery Stone. I read some of her writing, and it’s not that bad. It’s not my favorite style, I’ll be honest–I prefer less of the sparse Hemingway-esque prose and more lush descriptive language–but the premise is interesting, the characters are interesting, and her writing got that across to me.

Heck, if I was her and I was constantly getting shit for what I wrote, over petty things such as “incest is WRONG OMG” and who-knows-what-else, I’d be bitter too. Luckily, I’ve grown up in an environment where the internet and all its…fuckwittery…is obvious. The web, some iconoclastic haven of free thought? Yeah right. I’ve seen more tolerance and nonconformity in some northeast Ohio trailer parks. Where Chancery Stone went wrong, I think, is not seeing internet forums for what they are. She was too idealistic. Having one’s idealism trampled to the ground by people who miss the point and don’t want to get the point at all…I don’t blame her for getting disgruntled.

I think it’s amusing, and by amusing I mean sick, that much of the criticism against her (fandomwank and the like) say little to nothing about the writing itself. Aside from one grammatically-imperfect sentence and vague buzzwords of the parts people found unpalatable, I couldn’t find anything to judge on my own.

That said, she should have thought before she typed.

P.S. Maybe I’m being oversensitive, but what’s with calling her “Ms. Stone” in a pejorative tone? What’s with calling disdained female authors in general “Ms. XYZetc?” I don’t see disliked male authors being referred to as “Mr.” anything on a regular basis, and not with implied condescension.

So many things here to address…

One big deal is the mislabeling: the romance genre has a few definite conventions, such as a happy ending with the distinct and believable possibility of a happily ever after. From what little I’ve gleaned, this drivel doesn’t have that.

Another big fucking deal is the equating of incest with romance–the injury to victims of incest everywhere is… well, no words for that.

Further, calling people’s concerns or objections to the above ‘petty’ says more about the person commenting than I care to type. (Then again, this fuckwit apparently thinks Ms Stone was too idealistic to understand what she was getting into by promoting her shit in online forums…)

*

PS Maybe you are being obtuse: I use Ms Whatever equally for authors I like and for imbeciles such as Ms Stone.

I find that we—those of us who blog, blog-hop, participate in message boards, readers/authors loops and groups—tend to forget that we are, in fact, a minuscule percentage of the total of readers.

This is, of course, not an original observation—Super Librarian Wendy has often talked about this—but it seems to be a frequently held belief that online readers are, in fact, the majority of romance readership.

What brings this on, you ask?

Well, when news that author Anne Stuart will have books under a different pen name with her new publisher, Janet W. said (among other things) that “…we always know that Jane Smith is now Sally Jones when she’s not writing as Judy Smart …”

Yes, we—people who are active online or are avid followers of Ms Stuart—may know this from the get go, but there will be many readers who will not have a clue. Readers who shop primarily at brick and mortar stores, and whose method of choosing something to read is check out the covers, then read the back cover blurb. Those are the readers the publisher is hoping to entice to read these books by the same author under a different name.

As Jayne Ann Krentz aka Amanda Quick aka Jayne Castle mentioned during her speech at RWA’s Awards Luncheon, it was the change of pseudonym (which included different marketing by herself and the publisher) that allowed her to keep her career alive whenever the previous one… well, flopped.

Yes, now we know that all three writers are the same person writing contemproraries, historicals or fantasy romances (hell, now she’s making a point of tying all three together through her Arcane Society novels!) but at the time? No one knew¹, and that was what saved her bacon.

On top of that, there is the little fact that publishers tend to be old, well established corporations (read: lots of inertia to overcome) who, as far as we can tell, are not keen on change. In their view, if it worked twenty years ago, then of course it’ll work now!

Unfortunately for many a publisher, this doesn’t quite hold true anymore—people are people now as they ever were, but we communicate more and much faster now than we did just a decade ago. It is not only young tweens who spend hours glued to Facebook, and it is not only teens who twitter and text constantly. The likelihood of keeping Ms Stuart’s new pseudonym under wraps for long is much smaller now than it was for Ms Krentz in the eighties or nineties.

Which doesn’t have to be bad news—as a matter of fact, these days many authors are using different pseudonyms as marketing tools, to reach out to different audiences: Ann Aguirre aka Ava Gray; Beth Williamson aka Emma Lang; Jennifer Ashley aka Allyson James; Margaret Rowe aka Maggie Robinson—and many more. Whether or not a reader of Ava Gray (romantic suspense) knows that she also writes as Ann Aguirre (futuristic urban fantasy, contemporary urban fantasy and young adult) is not indispensable to the success of her career, as each subgenre has its own audience. Of course, she won’t cry if there is overlap and readers of romantic suspense find her Skin series by reading her Corine Solomon series.

This means that what Pocket is planning on doing with Anne Stuart (i.e., having her ‘debut’ as Kristina Douglas) may very well work for both author and publisher, but not necessarily for the same reasons it did for Ms Krentz twenty plus years ago.

However, generally speaking, what does work is when the publisher knows its market and it’s willing to follow—or even herd along—its customers in profitable directions. A perfect example of this would be Harlequin: in a troubled publishing world, it has continued to post profits without noticeable hiccups. Harlequin has made their authors’ backlists available digitally and promoted that catalogue to all its readers, traditional or digital. Harlequin has also expanded its horizons with the launch of Carina Press, its digital-first venture.

In contrast, Dorchester’s seemingly impromptu decision to go digital first, POD² (trade size to boot!) later seems… well, off the wall at best, and doomed at worst. If the company actually knew its market, it would have realized that there are many readers who will simply assume the publisher disappeared once they don’t see the novels and the authors on shelves at their local brick and mortar bookstore.

Yes, of course some readers will head online to a favorite author’s website to find out what happened to that ‘upcoming’ book that was never released, but as I said at the beginning, many more won’t—in my real life experience the percentage of avid readers that actually keep a running list of upcoming releases is still relatively minor. Most simply wait until they see something new by a favorite author at the bookstore.

I guess now it’s basically a wait and see situation—while keeping fingers crossed for the many authors who are caught in the crossfire.

(For a more detailed and articulated piece on what Dorchester decision means for readers, go to Super Librarian Wendy’s blog; also, check out Dorchester’s email to Jane at Dear Author)

Update: via Ann Aguirre’s blog, Jim C Hines on The Death of Print Publishing Part MCCLWTFXVIII

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¹ In fact, please raise your hand if you knew Ms Krentz also wrote under Jayne Bennet, Jayne Taylor and Stephanie James all through the 80s, and had one book out in 1989 as Amanda Glass. Yeah, neither did I until I checked her website while writing this piece—go figure, huh?

² Print on demand

Two quick caveats: this novel contains quite explicit depictions of sex and is not suitable for minors (or people who are easily offended, by sex¹ and/or adult language), and it is one of the many shiny books I got at the RWA National Conference last week.

This is the first novel of Ms Warren that I’ve read—and I realized too late that it’s actually part of a series (in fact, it is the expanded and revised version of the previously published second story in the world of The Others). It follows unassuming kindergarten teacher Missy and hot werewolf Alpha Graham during their whirlwind… courtship? marathon to HEA? (if I understood correctly, the novel takes place in exactly seven days).

Here is the back cover blurb:

Missy Roper’s fantasies have revolved around Graham Winters since the moment they met. But the imposing leader of the Silverback werewolf clan always seemed oblivious to Missy’s existence. At least he was, until Missy collides with him at a party and then abruptly runs away—arousing Graham’s interest…and wild desires.

Lupine law decrees that every Alpha must have a mate, and all Graham’s instincts tell him that the sensual, beguiling Missy is his. Trouble is, Missy is human—every delectable inch of her. Convincing his clan that she’s his destined mate, and keeping her safe from his enemies, will be the biggest challenge Graham has ever faced. And now that he is determined to have her—as his lover and his mate—Missy’s world is changing in ways she never imagined…

The first thing I have to mention is that Ms Warren excels at the difficult art of writing believable (and yes, arousing) sex scenes. In them, there is some internal dialogue going on, from both of the protagonists’ points of view, but it doesn’t get in the way of the (heh) action.

Pretty early in the story it is made clear that Missy and Graham have met more than once during the previous couple of months, which would make the whole “her scent told him she’s his mate” a bit iffy for me, if Ms Warren hadn’t made a point of explaining it: each time they have met before, they’ve been surrounded by many other humans, whose perfumes, soaps, etc. have all but obliterated Missy’s own natural scent. It is only when alone with her that Graham identifies her as his mate.

Given the really short time frame, it shouldn’t surprise anyone that things move really, really fast—from attraction to sex to mating, zero to sixty in less than thirty seconds. Still, I was honestly enjoying the novel—even if at times I felt a bit lost about some issues that clearly derive from the previous story—but there were some stumbling blocks.

Okay, well, mostly one big stumbling block: Missy herself. Or rather, her humongous case of the poor self-esteem.

Look, I understand a woman wondering whether it can be true that a gorgeous, successful, attractive, sexy hunk of a guy (also the man of her fantasies and dreams) is as interested in her as she is in him, but it’s not as easy to believe that she’s still fixated on ‘men like Graham Winters couldn’t like, let alone lust after, women like Missy’ after Graham has told her—very explicitly—that a) she’s his mate, and b) that for Lupines mating is for life.

Now, if her internal conflict had been more focused on the free choice (or lack thereof) aspect of the situation, I would have liked her better.

On the plus side, Graham’s reaction to Missy’s incredulity is really, really good (perhaps good enough to make Super Librarian Wendy rethink her aversion to the “fated to be mated” trope?)

Humans, he reminded himself, were contrary beasts by nature. They wrote books and made films and told stories about the concept of love at first sight—what Lupines would call mating—and yet expressing a genuine belief in the concept often met with derision and scorn. Apparently, it was acceptable to fantasize about an instantaneous and lasting connection with a romantic partner, but not to actually make one. (page 184)

In the end, I found the sexual chemistry between the protagonists quite believable as I did, in somewhat of a reversal of the usual order of business, Graham’s feelings for Missy (both lust and love). However, I found that the addition of the external conflict with Curtis not only didn’t add anything to the novel, but actually distracted from the character development.

Big Bad Wolf ends up with a 6 out of 10, but I’m sure I’ll read more of Ms Warren’s books in the future.

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¹ Particularly when it’s sex between hot, furry werewolves and humans

She’s too busy indulging in her Josie and John James obsession on this year’s UK Big Brother. She’ll be back when one or both of them gets evicted. It’s the nearest she’s been to a romance book all summer!

She’ll see you in a couple of weeks…Maybe…

Sunday

It was a very sad (and still exhausted) aztec who dragged her ass out of (a very comfortable) bed around thirty minutes past oh-dark-hundred along with Kristie(J) and SLWendy. Both of them and Rosie had ungodly early flights back home, so the plan was to vacate the room, check out downstairs and be in a taxi (along with Rosie’s roommate, L.B. Gregg) by 5:30am. Despite the fact that no bellperson was available (I don’t think the management of the Dolphin realized how many of the 2100 conference attendees were leaving before dawn…) we managed to drag ourselves and our possessions downstairs and to the front desk without incident.

There I stayed with the bigger suitcases while Wendy and Kristie got in line (yes, in line—did I mention a bunch of people checking out before dawn?) to check out—and managed to catch a greeting, a goodbye and a hug from Beth Williamson, who was also leaving.

Once Wendy and Kristie had straightened their hotel bills out, we took thirty seconds for a picture, and then it was time for schlepping books, boxes, backpack and weary body to the car for the half hour drive home—then crash for something like six hours straight.

Exhausted and sleepy aztec, Kristie(J) and SLWendy

In no particular order, all the things I forgot in previous days’ recaps (or, memorable moments throughout the conference):

Chatting with the lovely L.B. Gregg (still have a crush on you, missy!) during the first Blogger Bar Bash, about life and kids and books and… some good news I’m hoping to be able to share soon.

Stopping for a moment at Alyssa Day’s table during one of the signings and getting a signed bookplate for my copy of Atlantis Redeemed—while pouting at the fact that she didn’t have any handy ARCs for Atlantis Betrayed (I wonder how many writers I scared during these short four days…).

Walking from the Berkley signing to the lobby, talking with Vivian Arend, who is both gorgeous and cool—she didn’t even mind that I kept knocking off her hat every time I hugged her (yes, more than once).

Learning that SBSarah (aka Sarah Wendell) is letting her gorgeous black hair grow long in order to donate it to Locks of Love. I love this—I have done it every two years or so for about a decade now, and my daughter has done it twice as well. Also, watching her amazing video of the Literacy Autographing—many of you, I’m sure, have already seen it, but I can’t resist:

I actually forgot to mention before that I spent some time with Ann Aguirre in her room, after the Berkley signing on Friday, sharing in the excitement of some really good news (once again, details when I’m free to share them). By the way, Ann can dance like nobody’s business.

Having the lovely May give me a precious little doll/cell phone charm to commemorate having met.

Visiting the goody room, repeatedly, every day (greedy beast that I am!)

Finally, getting away without paying parking ($12 a day—which may not seem very expensive to some, but which I had not budgeted for) for all but one day—Friday—due to a combination of factors, including equipment breakdown.

Oh, and the books—pretty, shiny, wonderful, exciting, new books! Wanna see?

Most of the loot (holy shit!)

(Of course, this doesn’t show a few duplicate titles which I have already mailed out to my sweetie—look forward to more joint reviews!)

To console myself I drove out to my coworker’s house to pick up the lovely kitten—who, by the way, has conquered the new shiny book pile…

“All your books are belong to us”

…and got himself a name too!

Intrepid explorer and avid hunter, he’s been christened Pounce de León—Pounce for short. What do you guys think?

* * * * * * * * * *

Gratuitous Pounce pics:

“All your shorts are belong to us, too!”

(blurry) size comparison: Pounce and Alana

No fear

“I iz gorgeous, yes”

Yes, that is my shoe.

Being gorgeous is HARD work.

Saturday

Mapquest tells me that I live some 37 miles from the Dolphin, which makes for a good forty minutes drive on weekdays—plus, the fuel gauge in the rental car was dipping perilously close to the big E—so I got myself up and ready at some truly ungodly hour in order to be at the hotel on time for… yeah, you guessed it: the second edition of continental breakfast, Dolphin version.

Adding weight to my desire to be on site early was the fact that there were going to be five (yes, you read that right: FIVE) publisher signings on Saturday, the first (Ballantine) starting at 9:00am—and the line, oh yes, the line! was bound to be fierce. I confess that it made me a bit sad that I had to skip Writing Fight Scenes, a workshop given by Angela Knight that started at 8:30—but priorities are priorities, and this is where it’s truly clear that I’m a reader, first, last and foremost: the lure of books! shiny! books! free! books! signed to me!

No contest, really.

So I called Kristie(J) while fueling, and about forty minutes later, after dropping off my overnight bag in their room again, we got back down to the ballroom, ready to tackle the lines for the donuts. We talked a bit about our plans for the day and I promised to save her a spot in the line for the St. Martin Press book signing later in the day (two words: Lisa Kleypas). We were joined, surprisingly enough, by SLWendy a little later—and I finally got to take the picture I had been waiting for since Tuesday:

I’m not sure you can see it clearly (will someone explain my camera to me, please?—in words of one syllable, thank you) but our very own Super Librarian is wearing… Karen Scott!

*ahem*

With that bit of business out of the way, I went back to the well known hallway with the couches and the women sitting on the floor by the doors of two very unimposing rooms…

And this is where my memory gave up on me. See, I know that I went to all five signings and got a scary number of books by the end of the day (with judicious jaunts to the parked car to unload in between signings—otherwise I would have crippled myself).

I also know that after the Ballantine signing I spent about twenty minutes to half an hour ensconced in an out of the way alcove by the west elevators, sitting on a cleverly positioned and comfortable couch, talking with Jaci Burton and her Biker Dude—it was soooooo cool to finally get to meet Jaci! We’ve corresponded for quite a while now but fate had pretty much gotten in the way of our meeting last year (read: she didn’t attend either RT nor RWA) so it was double sweet for me. I only hope that I didn’t bore poor Biker Dude too much with my blather! I remember that I stopped writer/speaker Mikki Labbe (who I had met on Friday, at one of the signing lines…) and author Jessica Andersen as they were chatting for a moment, to take their picture.

As you may be able to see from their badges, here are Jessica Andersen and Mikky Labbe.

I saw a number of conference first timers—whom I’d also met on Friday’s lines—during Saturday’s signings. It was really nice to wave and smile at each other as we crossed paths, shared a line to an author, or asked for our pictures to be taken (okay, that last was mostly me)

I do remember that I scored a spot near the front of the line for St Martin’s, which made me really happy because I got to chat a bit more with Lucy Abarcia and Kris Alice Hohls—as well as making both Kristie(J)’s and May’s day, since they are both almost rabid fans of Ms Kleypas.

Memorable moments

Watching Kris and Lucy race each other to Ms Kleypas table at the very end of the room—followed quickly by Kristie and May! Having several long and interesting conversations with conference attendees while waiting for signings—and resolving to learn the magical loop method of casting for knitting socks in the round, with circular needles (versus double pointed needles, which, frankly, scare me). Discussing different electronic readers and, addicted junkies that we are, passing around our own to any person nearby who showed an interest in them, while discussing their merits and disadvantages (if any).

Scoring a copy of Suzanne Brockmann’s Infamous (her first non-SEAL related book in years!—it had sold out during the Literacy Autographing). Seeing Beth Cornelison about to get up as I approached her table, raising my voice to say, “No! You can’t go now, sit back down!” Pause. “Unless you need to go to the restroom, then I’ll wait.” (To which she timidly responded, “I was just going to drag the books closer on the table…”—could I make a bigger ass of myself, I ask you?).

Beth Cornelison being gracious after I was not

Meeting the always stunningly lovely Olivia Gates while crossing the hotel lobby—she made my day when she offered to teach me to put on make up, saying that I have “a beautiful canvas” of a face Coming from her, that’s high compliment indeed!

The lovely Olivia Gates

Teasing Lydia Dare co-authors about one of them being the mean one, while the other was the princess (“it’s all about me, all the time!”).

Lydia Dare–both halves!

Blowing a raspberry to Cynthia Eden and having her burst into laughter, then listening to her explain to the befuddled reader waiting for her signed book that I was not a scary crazy weirdo, but a friend (thank you, Ms Eden!—while waiting for a stall in one of the bathrooms at some point during the conference (please don’t ask me which day—no idea!), we recognized each other as she came out and chatted for a few seconds right by the door of the stall! while a number of other attendees waited in line for a free stall… (Readers, we iz all sorta crazy.))

Chatting for a few moments with Shana Abé, sharing my joy at finding her Drakon series—The Smoke Thief is still very much a favorite! (and I can’t believe I still haven’t reviewed any of the novels).

Shana Abé

Chatting a few minutes with Elizabeth Hoyt—who recognized my name! and invited me to email her to receive an ARC of Notorious Pleasures (which doesn’t come out until February 2011, people!). Also, in one of those weird conference coincidences, Selina McLemore (senior editor at Grand Central Publishing—Ms Hoyt’s publisher) asked me to email her if I’m interested in having my name in their reviewers/ARC recipients list⁷.

Crossing paths with Kim in Hawaii over and over again, and inviting her and May to share a table with us at the RITAS dinner (us being SLWendy, Rosie, Kristie(J), AnimeJune and moi—L.B. Gregg, Rosie’s dear friend and roommate, was sitting with other authors. In the end, Kim didn’t make it—she was invited to sit with the Beau Monde ladies (the poor thing, right?), but the rest of us had a wonderful time.

In no particular order, pictures from the signings (and once again, I throw myself at my gentle readers’ mercy–I know I should know her name but… who is the author in the last picture???)

Deirdre Knight

Karen Rose

Lauren Willig

Terry Spear

Jennifer Lyon (thank you again, Jane!)

I do remember clearly that after cruising the rooms for the last set of signings (St Martin and Grand Central), I rushed upstairs to take a shower, change into my RITA outfit (a simple dress and my lovely Mary Jane’s), and then go downstairs to—you guessed it!—save a spot near the front of the line for the Awards Dinner.

Curse my camera!

As usual at conference, some of the best conversations happened while waiting for the doors to the ballroom to open. I chatted with ladies from Sacramento and from Alabama, about everything from books and blogging to Mexican food (and the likelihood of getting the right ingredients for some ethnic foods at your local grocer’s—also known as “learn to substitute” [and this would strike you as much funnier if you knew that I. don’t. cook.]).

Kristie(J) joined me in the line—though I managed to convince her to sit on a nearby bench for part of the wait—and in short order the lovely May showed up. Then the doors opened and we charged, finding a table on the first row after the VIPs (Golden Heart and RITA finalists, presenters, etc.). Rosie, Wendy and AnimeJune (who totally rocked the siren red dress she was wearing—wowza!) joined Kristie, May and me shortly after, along with a couple of other attendees whose names I didn’t get⁸.

Sharing packages of tissues with Rosie during the acceptance speeches for the Golden Hearts and taking pictures of my fellow bloggers and friends. Sharing my lovely silk pashmina (a gift from my beloved *kiss*) with poor May, who felt cold for most of the evening (and how come I don’t have a picture of May during the RITAs dinner?)

Rosie, Kristie(J) and SLWendy

AnimeJune

AnimeJune, aztec, Kristie(J) and SLWendy

After the RITAs, Rosie and aztec in the lobby of the Dolphin

After all that, it was a very tired aztec who trudged upstairs to crash in Kristie’s and Wendy’s room for the evening—until the truly ungodly hour of four in the morning!

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⁷ The temptation is great, but I have to be realistic and consider whether or not I can fulfill the implied obligation (read and review as many, if not all, of the books I would be sent) before I decide—though given previous ruminations, one can conclude that I’m leaning far to the “thank you, but no, thank you” end of the spectrum here.

⁸ One of them spent the entire dinner and most of the award ceremony reading! Look, I’m a reader myself, but isn’t this a tad… rude?

Friday

You may wonder why on earth, after going to bed totally wiped out in the early hours of the morning, I would want to wake up before seven am. The answer: continental breakfast, included in the registration, and scheduled for 7:30 to 8:30 am. Being frugal *coughcheapcough* I made sure I was there early enough to avoid the rush of like-minded fellow conference attendees, but perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered: the buffet tables were not opened until about 7:40, and the waitstaff started clearing out the first one (which was empty as the desert) at about 8:15. Mind, the food offered wasn’t anything to write home about—some fresh fruit, Dunkin Donuts Krispy Kreme donuts (thank you, Kim in Hawaii!),  a couple of fruit breads—but I confess that I’m still puzzled by how little of it there was, considering that there were 2100 registered attendees. (This is not a swipe at RWA, by the way: I blame this entirely on the hotel²)

The company, on the other hand, was great: I hailed down Jodi Henley, of Will Work for Noodles fame, and we were joined in short order by Lorena Streeter of Hearts and Handcuffs and Anna Alexander (who has a wonderful tag in her cards: Live for the day, to hell with the rest), and a bit later by Linda Nielsen and Nikki Enlow. Again, conversation flowed around the table—most of us strangers to each other until that moment, but easy with each other, comforted by the knowledge that we all were there because of our passion for books and reading (and, in their cases, writing those books )

And here is when things got surreal… (or more surreal, if you will).

I located the rooms where the different publishers’ signings were going to be held, Avon and Harlequin on Friday, and all the others on Saturday, and decided to camp myself at the door… a couple of hours early.

Why, you ask? Well, because last year I ended up being in line for the same couple of hours, only on my feet—though there was great conversation to be had, for sure *waving to Aymless and Victoria Janssen³*—and  for a couple of the signings, there were no books left by the time I got into the room. This year that was NOT going to happen, not to me, no way, no how.

So, to make an already long story not much longer, I got there and discovered, with delight, that there were comfortable couches in cleverly positioned alcoves across the way from the rooms, so I sat down directly across from the Avon signing. A minute later, someone else came by, asked if those were the rooms for the signings, sat her tote bag down by the door (which, I confess, prompted me to act like a two year old and say, “hey, I’m first in line!’ and move my ass over). A few minutes later, the line stretched down the corridor and pretty soon the noise was awesome.

Yes, apparently we were that noisy!

Of course, there was no way in hell or heaven I was going to be quiet for the next two hours—I’m naturally awkward in social situations, but hello, sitting on the floor in a five star hotel corridor waiting for a book signing? Totally my element! So I started talking with the people behind me—about books, conferences, books, authors, books… and suddenly I realized that I was talking to author Lori Brighton, and to Lucy Abarcia of Ever After Bookstore and to Kris Alice Hohls of Love Letter magazine—and who would be peeking behind them but May Boonpitak from Thailand? Squees and hugs and a flurry of “oh so great to finally meet you!” followed by “will you please take our picture?” ensued.⁴

Kris Alice Hohls

(I wish I had been dorky enough to ask everyone to hold up their badges for pictures!)

So we talked… for hours, as the line grew longer (and louder) behind us.

One hour to go, ladies!

At 9:45 on the dot: not quite there yet, ladies! (some books hadn’t arrived to the room yet)

I will not go into much detail about what happened after that door opened, mostly because I know I managed to make a total cake of myself many times over—with authors at both signings. Suffice it to say that I got an embarrassing number of books signed, and answered, “do you really want it signed to azteclady?” (with a resounding yes, thank you so very much!⁵ ) more times than I could count—if I had even tried to keep track, which I was sane enough not to attempt.

Memorable moments: scaring poor Maggie Shayne by gushing about her Shades of Twilight series (something along the lines of, “and then you turned the bad lady into the heroine of her own book!” to which she graciously replied, “Rhiannon? Yes, I’ve always thought of those books as her series.”). Meeting Pamela Palmer. Making Anna Campbell laugh, again (there is something so incredibly appealing about Ms Campbell’s laughter, it’s a gift every time). Chatting a moment with Carla Cassidy about the well-remembered Pregnesia review (and her most incredibly classy response) at the Smart Bitches.

After a bit, my brain was fuzzier than ever, my ears had a permanent buzz going on, and by the end of the hour my tote bag was so full of shiny, awesome books, that it threatened to sever my shoulder from my body. I felt no pain, though, nor did I realize that time was passing, until someone mentioned that there would be a line for the awards luncheon…  and when I looked at my cell phone (who wears a watch these days, really?) I realized I was already late for a workshop I wanted to attend: the Q&A: Inside Digital Publishing, with Jaci Burton and Angela James—so off I went, loaded with books, to find the Americas Seminar room again (I knew I had passed it at some point already, dammit!).

Jaci Burton and Angela James took a few minutes to talk with conference attendees after the session ended.

Jaci Burton

I am saddened that I was so late because I only got the tail end of the session. It’s not that I have ambitions to write and get published—far from it—but I just love knowing how things work, particularly in publishing (books and reading are my passions, after all). Still, there were several cool (if not necessarily seriously illuminating) moments: the little bird that flew through the open door and hopped about for a few moments, shamelessly begging for something to eat—only to fly right back out the door as people (yours truly included) started to scramble for their cameras. Meeting writer J.C. Hay, who waited until after the session was over to introduce himself to Jaci Burton—something about spending quite a bit of time turning around every time he heard her name —and who commented how happy he is to have discovered the many subgenres of romance, and the RWA, and how much he was enjoying himself, as well as learning. Taking a picture of another very, very—extremely, in fact—elusive life form: one Shiloh Walker!

How about them apples?

By this time I became aware that I was really, really hungry (did I mention that there wasn’t enough food at the breakfast buffet?) and that the afore mentioned line for the awards luncheon was probably growing by the second, so I said my reluctant goodbyes to both Jaci and Ms James, and headed back to the ballroom to try and find a table somewhat close to the front. Which I did *booty dance* though I don’t remember who I had lunch with! (I think Jami Alden was there…) (yes, yes, yes: conference brain struck early and often, and it’s still here, by the way). I do remember that I laughed at Ms Krentz’s speech—repeated attempted career murder anyone?—but I left right on the dot of two, to trudge out to the car and drop off the seventymillion pounds of shiny books I had schlepped with me from the first two signings… because, grasshoppers, there were two more signings that afternoon (Berkley and Pocket books), and I needed room in my tote bag!

The second set of signings, held in the same set of rooms as the morning ones, was another success for me—not so much in the number of books (though it’s embarrassingly high—and no, I ain’t telling, nor counting for that matter), as in the many enjoyable conversations I had while sitting on that same carpet (though this time, alas! I was about the twentieth or so person in line) waiting for the doors to open. I was engrossed, completely into laughing and chatting when I felt a caress on the back of my head. I turned around and who should I see but Kristie(J)? I jumped to my feet and, like one possessed, I dragged her to the front of the line where Kris Alice Hohls was sitting with Lucy Abarcia, and fulfilled my promise from the morning⁴:

Kris Alice Hohls and Kristie(J)

And when the doors opened again, it was the crazy—the shiny, shiny piles of books, the authors, the books!, the readers and more authors, the shiny books!, the conversations while waiting in line to get a book signed by an author, the signed books!, the noise… *happy sigh* Utter, absolute bliss for yours truly—headache? Who cares about a measly headache when there are books! and authors and other readers to meet?

Memorable moments: meeting Jess Granger and, at her very generous suggestion, getting a signed copy of Beyond the Shadows (now I can mail my read copy to my beloved yay!). Meeting Margaret Rowe aka Maggie Robinson. Getting a picture of Ann Aguirre aka Ava Gray and May Boonpitak and another with the awesome, awesome Vivian Arend. Having Cynthia Eden stand in line—behind me!—to get a book signed. Getting my greedy little hands (yes, they are little) on a signed copy of Nalini Singh’s Bonds of Justice⁶. Chatting for a moment with Angela Knight about Jane’s Warlord… (There are more—I know there are, but I can honestly tell you that I don’t remember anything more!)

Pictures from the signings (not quite in alphabetical order–and I would love it if any of you kind readers would identify the authors in the last few images, because I have many more signed books that I have pictures and I cannot, for the life of me, remember who they are. *hanging head in abject shame* Thank you in advance!)

Ann Aguirre and Vivian Arend

Anna Campbell and Gayle Callen (aka Julia Latham)

Brenda Jackson

Carla Cassidy

Courtney Milan

Eloisa James

HelenKay Dimon

Jaci Burton

Jenna Petersen

Jennifer Ashley (aka Allyson James)

Jess Granger

Tanya Michaels (thank you so much, Kris Alice!) and Jill Shalvis

Lorraine Heath

Maggie Robinson (aka Margaret Rowe… or viceversa)

Maggie Shayne

Nalini Singh

Nancy Gideon

Pamela Palmer

Sharon Sala

Kate Noble (thank you, Katiebabs)

C. L. Wilson (thank you again, Katiebabs!)

Anne Mallory (thank you, Jane!)

????

By the end of the second set of signings my brain seemed to be floating somewhere a foot (or six) above my head, so I stopped by the room to get my backpack and say my goodbyes, and then headed back home—at the truly advanced hour of five something in the afternoon! Party animal, I iz not.

Still, I can’t truly regret going home, for I had a restful evening and night and got up early the next morning…

*   *   *   *   *

² Dear Lord, Disney prices! $12 for a refrigerated sandwich?

³ How did it happen that I didn’t see Ms Janssen even once during the week??? (eta: apparently I did see Ms Janssen but didn’t recognize her! If memory serves (highly iffy) we shared an elevator ride—or perhaps just crossed paths near the elevators?—on Thursday evening, very very late.

⁴ Great story: when I mentioned that I was hanging out with Kristie(J), Kris made me promise to introduce them—which happened that very afternoon, in the line for the Berkley signing—and it warmed the cockles of my cold little heart to see Kris TOTALLY  fan-girl Kristie, gushing about Ramblings on Romance, etc. and what Kristie’s blog means to her. Across oceans and continents, we are all connected—awesome!

⁵ In one of those great synchronicity happenings, Samhain author Xakara posted about this at Beyond the Veil—I had to comment, of course.

⁶ I had every intention of buying my own copy at the Literacy Autographing, but by the time I reached Ms Singh’s table, she had sold them all—I was not surprised in the least but more than a bit sad, which made getting it on Friday all the sweeter.

Thursday

Despite all my good intentions of the night before, I had a rather late-ish start—I didn’t manage to get to the parking lot until just minutes before noon (though I once again snagged a great parking space) so I basically carried my overnight backpack with me to the keynote luncheon.

Since I literally didn’t have time to find Wendy, Rosie, Kristie or anyone else I already knew, I was delighted to run into Bradford Bunch ladies Beth Williamson and Juliana Stone, who graciously invited me to sit with them.

As luck would have it, we were close enough to the front of the line that we got a table just behind the camera that was trained on the podium and projecting to the large screens strategically placed throughout the ballroom—excellent! Later we were joined by Ms Stone’s roommate, and also by Mindy Klasky, Nancy Yeager and Christina Watson.

Juliana Stone (right) and her roommate

Left to right: Christina Watson, Nancy Yeager and Mindy Klasky

As always when romance readers gather, there was little awkwardness and plenty of topics of conversation during lunch, up until the moment when RWA President Michelle Monkou took the stage. We were all stunned and delighted to find out that more than $55,000 was raised during the literacy signing (after taxes). This means that, over the years, RWA has donated over $687,000 to literacy efforts in cities across the country. I am sure I speak for readers everywhere when I say, thank you!

After Ms Monkou, Nora Roberts stepped up to the podium and held the crowd—all more than two thousand of us—spellbound with her speech. Two things that my conference brain remembers, very clearly: Ms Roberts is one of the few ladies who can curse, repeatedly, in front of a large audience and look as classy as a queen while doing it; and that I’m not the only one who thinks that people have been people, are people, and will be people, for a very very long time. Which means that assholes have been assholes, are assholes, and will be assholes for just as long.

The inimitable Nora Roberts

After the luncheon, I connected with SLWendy, who was kind enough to give me the extra key to the room she shared with Kristie(J), so that I could drop my overnight pack there and move around a bit more freely. Immediately after that, I managed to take in a wonderful workshop: Sex Appeal: Blurring the Boundaries Between Women’s and Men’s Fiction. I did take notes and will post more about it later, but I right now must say that I loved the interactions between the two speakers, Jack Reacher’s creator Lee Child (who is very attractive and has a to-die-for accent) and Suzanne Brockmann of Navy SEAL fiction fame. Sadly, the camera stayed in its case and there’s no photographic evidence—again. However, on Wednesday evening I managed to catch a rare life-form in pixels: the elusive Sarah Frantz.

A quick trip to the past: years ago—2002? perhaps the year before? something like that, at any rate—when I started posting to the now-defunct Suzanne Brockmann board, SarahF was one of the regulars there. Despite having been in the same vicinity last year, this is the first time we actually meet. Needless to say, it was a thrill—she’s wonderful.

Blurry SarahF and aztec

The next block of time was a little blurry/confusing for me—for some reason I thought I had nothing marked in my program, so I followed Rosie and Kristie(J) to Jennifer Ashley’s workshop on Professional Jealousy. About five minutes into it, I got the feeling I was actually forgetting something, so I dug out my program, checked… and had to bolt from the room and rush to the other side of the convention rooms to catch the Writing in Multiple Subgenres: the Pros and Cons of Branching Out workshop, with Ann Aguirre, Cynthia Eden, Beth Kery, Elizabeth Naughton, Juliana Stone and Beth Williamson.

I hope to write more about this one as well, because I found it really interesting, but the one thing that came across, clear as a bell, is: every writer’s process is perfect—for s/he. Therefore, while it is always interesting to know what works for others, it is by no means a fail-proof recipe for success; everyone has to find the process that works for him/her.

After the workshop was over, Kristie(J), SLWendy and I headed over to the lobby of the Swan to meet with Angela James (Carina Press) and Malle Vallik (Harlequin) for their blogger/reviewer dinner, which was off-site, and is a whole story in its own right.

Carina Press blogger/reviewer dinner

A total of fifteen women managed to cram themselves into a big-ass van, right outside the lobby of the Swan, for a fifteen minute ride to International Drive. The destination: The Oceanaire Seafood Room Orlando. I don’t think I’ve been to a more sophisticated restaurant in my life—jes’ sayin’. Once again, conversation flowed freely around the table, though given the size of the group it was more than two to three (and occasionally four) conversations going on at the same time. A great time was had by all—and the food wasn’t too shabby either

At dinner I finally met several people that I hadn’t had a chance to introduce myself to during the Bloggers Bar Bashes: Blythe, Lynn and Sandy from All About Romance; Barbara Vey from Beyond Her Book; Sabrina Heise from Cheeky Reads. I also finally met Malle Vallik from Harlequin digital side, who is scary smart and very, very funny.

Jayne Hoogenberk, AAR Lynn Spencer, Barbara Vey, Malle Vallik and Kristie(J)

Joyce Ann (huge apologies, I didn’t catch her last name), AAR Blythe Barnhill, Sabrina Heise of Cheeky Reads, SL Wendy, ARR Sandly Coleman, Angela James and SBSarah. (Sadly out of range, another blogger whose name I don’t remember is to Sarah’s right)

This great experience was enhanced by our wonderful server, who is most definitely hero material: on top of being handsome and personable, he cooks, cleans and does laundry.

(Once again, apologies for the crappy image quality–he really is hero material!)

I was unable to stay to the end (missed dessert, which I’m positive was amazing), because I had promised to hang out with Beth Williamson at the Moonlight Madness Bazaar until midnight, so I caught a ride back to the resort with Jayne Hoogenberk and Barbara Vey around nine pm. Once again, conversation was immediate, entertaining and engrossing. Unfortunately for us, our cab driver had no clue where we were going—apparently when a person in Orlando says, “We are going to the Dolphin at Disney,” the destination is not clear.

After I realized we were entering the parking lot of a downtown Orlando Marriott hotel, I mentioned to my companions that we were quite likely lost—to which the driver answered that he knew precisely where we were, but that he was attempting a short cut to bypass traffic. Color me skeptical, as he spent more time on his cell phone, giving our location and asking for more instructions (in Crêole) than he did answering our concerns.

Sexist or not, I still feel the need to expostulate: men! (picture hands raised in frustration)

Very long story short, we got to the hotel an hour after leaving the restaurant, and the stuffy cab, along with the turns, starts and stops, gave poor Ms Vey a bad case of carsickness. Luckily I had with me the Carina Press water bottle that came with the books and other goodies in the conference tote bags—I had filled this with ice just before going down to the lobby to meet the party, so it was still quite cold three hours later, and holding it to her cheeks and forehead seemed to help Ms Vey a bit, at least until we finally got out of the car. Ms Hoogenberk had to rush up to her room and then back down to the convention rooms, to set up for Harlequin’s Pajama Party, so I walked Ms Vey up to her room, then rushed back down myself to find where the Bazaar had been set up.

Beth Williamson at the Moonlight Madness Bazaar

For those who don’t know, Ms Williamson’s husband makes the most amazing sterling silver chainmail jewelry—from breezy, sassy earrings to incredibly elegant necklaces, I was once again amazed at his artistry. (To see examples of this wonderful and original jewelry, visit Little River Jewelers.) After a couple of sales I helped Ms Williamson pack the rest up.

(Aside: on one of those ‘people you’ll meet everywhere at RWA Nationals’ twists¹, the next table was occupied by Sarah Frantz on behalf of the International Association for the Study of Popular Romance.)

SLWendy and Kristie(J) were kind enough to offer me shelter for the night, so I trudged my tired ass upstairs for some shut-eye, and found Wendy blogging (shocker there *chuckle*) and Kristie gone, to the Harlequin pajama party. Not much later, I had crashed on Wendy’s bed, and didn’t move until sometime after six am the next morning, when my beloved called me. Which brings me to…

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¹ Last year it was Tessa Dare, this year Sarah Frantz was one of them—which is hilarious, considering we just met in person after some eight years of online acquaintance.