Vicki Batman's Blog, page 31

Handbag & Book: guest author Madeline McEwen - A wedding Outfit & her book Tied Up With Strings #newbook #amreading #mysterylovers

I bought this clutch for my niece's wedding in the UK. An international flight meant I had to fit everything—wedding outfit, hat, shoes, umbrella, plus two days of regular clothes—in my carry-on bag. 
 I love the texture of the silky fabric beads, the tactile comfort, the satisfying snap of the clasp, and its understated elegance.  I haven't told anyone that I bought it a TJMaxx for less than a couple of cups of coffee.  A pleasant diversion and a perfectly sized puzzle for PBS Mystery! fans. Kirkus Review   
  
 

Handbag & Book: Exactly what kind of handbag is this? #RLFblog #readromance #accessories

Several years ago, I went to my favorite flea market at our local fair grounds and spotted this bag:
I thought it a fun bag in a cool ecru color and paid $6.00 for it. So I couldn't wait to carry it and I did, my first stop being Jazzercise where I ran into my friend, Shirley. She said, "Why are you carrying a jewelry case today?"

I said, "This isn't a jewelry case. It's a handbag."

She shook her head and said, "No, it's a jewelry box for traveling."

I said, "Doesn't matter. I like it for a handbag." And that -- brushing hands -- was the end of that. Only I didn't carry the handbag or box again.
I did some internet research on the name imprinted in the box, Ronay, and found this was a New York manufacturer in the forties, fifties. In my quick search, I didn't find mine.



So have you carried something as a handbag when it was something else?

Do writers put personal stuff into their books? Duh! I put Jeeps, 4-Runners, furniture, favorite dresses, favorite chocolate, rehearsal dinner table tops, favorite meals, favorite restaurants.... The list is endless. Sometimes, I rename them. Sometimes, not. But I do add a handbag or two or three in too.

Which brings the question--is my heroine me? No. She has way better hair and can eat more chocolate than I ever could. She likes to soak in the tub and I am strictly a shower girl. My roomie during my single days looked totally different from Jenny in the books. And then there is the murder stuff. I've never ever seen a murder. I heard an almost one though.

When Handsome and I were newlyweds, I was in bed, reading and watching TV. Handsome was working on his computer. I heard a pop-pop-pop and asked him if he'd heard it. He said no, but then we heard a god-awful wailing. My bedroom windows looked into my neighbor's kitchen and I saw her on the phone. Handsome and I decided he would talk to her and they decided to go to the alley and check. They found a lady shot in the leg. Our neighbor called the police who showed with an ambulance. The cop pulled aside Handsome when he asked if the lady was okay, and the cop told him the lady wasn't a lady. Oh my!

And that's the closest I've been to murder.

Find my humorous romantic mysteries at: Amazon

I Got the Shot. Did the flu get you? #feelingsick #readromance #mystereybook

Every year in the fall, I go to the pharmacy and get a flu shot. I've been doing this for many years and I always get the four-strain variety, hoping I would get the best coverage. I could count on one hand how many times I have had the flu--not even five. But the most significant year was when my entire family had been struck over Christmas. I determined "never again."

I am/was easily susceptible to bronchitis and pneumonia. My first big bout was at age 9 when I'd finished Field Day at school, came home and laid down. My mom woke me and said I had a fever. Then the coughing began. I nearly had double pneumonia, meaning in both lungs. I missed a month of school, got large shots every day at the doctor, and more drugs for at home. I was one sick kid.

Over the years, I'd had walking pneumonia, regular three times after having my second son, and bronchitis. I became close friends with Mucinex and Tesalon pearls. A friend suggested the pneumonia shot. I had it and haven't been sick since.

Then I started the flu shots. Again, magic and no sickness. Until THIS YEAR.

Right before  Christmas, I did not feel well. My eyes burned. I was chilled. Just plain lousy. For two days, I stayed in bed. Then I did better, mostly tired. I believe I had a mild case of the flu.

People began talking about catching something despite having had the flu shot. Turns out, this year's shot missed the mark. Schools closed. Hospitals were overloaded. People wore masks. There were some deaths.

For me--I will still get a shot even though I got the flu. Two days of sickness are a whole lot better than days on end of sickness.


Dear Readers: Did you get the flu shot and the flu?



So what helped me through? Of course, lots of TV and reading!!! Right now, Murder & Mayhem, an e-boxed set, which includes my humorous romantic mystery, Temporarily Employed, is available at a fabulous price. Find the fun at: Amazon

Handbag & Book: BUYING my OWN VALENTINE #readromance #RLFblog #KateSpade

I bought my own Valentine this year. Due to unusual circumstances, Handsome said he was sorry but he didn't get anything for me this year. I'd bought him an adorable card and Batman pajama bottoms. He looked sad and I couldn't be mad. Handsome had had another reconstructive plastic surgery. That was definitely more important than a Valentine for me. So he turned to me and asked, "Can you buy yourself a handbag?"

Nirvana. Pure nirvana. Of course, I could. I went straight to my favorite handbag site--Kate Spade--to search and yes!!! I found this one:

Isn't it adorable with the pink and red flowers on the black background? It has a very large center pouch with two small pockets on one side and one zipper pocket on the other. On each side of the pouch are side pouches. In one, I store the cross-body handle. I thought the bag would be larger; sure, I could have used a tape measure and blocked out exactly how big. Instead, I went with the "is it the same size as a piece of paper?" method. lol

I'm not disappointed at all. I love this bag and the bright flower colors. Would you buy a bag with flowers on it?

Speaking of something adorable, that's exactly what I think of this passage between my hero, Allan Wellborn, in Temporarily Employed, part of the Murder & Mayhem boxed set:

No frisking and no arrests were--so far, in my book--a good thing. As Sarah Anne’s older brother, I found it easy to eliminate him from the stalker, murderer, and rapist categories. The something in the truck line sounded similar to approaches used in past dating experiences. For instance: “Want to come up and look at my etchings?” Translated: A roll in the hay.Or the ever popular “Would you like to meet Mr. Lizard?” Translated: Mr. Wiggly Worm. “How about coming to my place for a drink?” Translated: To ply me with multiple drinks and the requisite roll in the hay. I hadn’t fallen for those then and wasn’t going to be a sucker now. He stuck his hands on his hip and said, “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not a stalker, murderer, or rapist."  Apparently, he could read minds. "Just a minute." I closed the door partially to release the chain, then opened it. “Why can’t you just tell me whatever it is?” “No. I want to show you---” “Not a Picasso?” I asked. “No.” “Not an iguana?” A perplexed expression crossed his face. “A what?” “Not your pet worm? “What pet worm?” “Not---”   “Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking. The only worms I know about are for fishing.”Find Murder & Mayhem at: Amazon

Handbag and Book: guest #author Sylvie Grayson A small suitcase? #readromance #newbook #RLFblog

My day-to-day handbag is like a small suitcase with everything inside that I could possibly need during an outing.

This handbag is my go-to bag for travel. When I bought it, I loved the textured black leather construction and dull silver emblem on the front flap. It has a long handle, fits over the shoulder and easily holds my cell phone, pen, credit card case and money pocket. It has been all over the world with me. I've taken it to Hong Kong and Florence, Singapore and Heidelburg. It fits easily in my larger travel bag, can be packed for evening use or short excursions. I wouldn't part with it.

A Penrhy prince caught between duty and desire. Can he win the impending battle?Shandro, Prince of the Penrhy tribe of Jiran, disagrees with his father, Sovereign Pollack, on nearly every issue that arises between them. But his goal is to uphold the family values in spite of Pollack’s conniving moves as he deals with the hotbed of competing nations surrounding them.Then Shandro is sent on a mission across the mountains into Khandarken to bring back Princess Chinata, a bride for Emperor Carlton’s Advisor. In exchange, Jiran and the Penrhy tribe are given a peace agreement, protection against invasion by the Emperor’s troops. This seems a good trade, as Carlton is hovering on their borders with his need for more land. However, not far into the journey, it becomes apparent someone is not adhering to the terms of the peace accord.Near the tribal border, Shandro and his troops have come under direct attack from unknown forces. He digs deeper into Chinata’s background to find strong ties to the New Empire. Is it too dangerous to bring Princess Chinata into Jiran? Or as her escort, does Shandro become her defender against the Emperor’s troops.
It had begun to snow again and the flakes were coming thicker, a steady silent fall that muffled sound and blinded them as they rode. The air was icy against China’s skin. Soon the wind picked up and it looked like another blizzard setting in. She watched Prince Shandro ride ahead to consult with his commander, then rein in and wait for Haggskyll and Boz to catch up. She studied him as he talked with the men, first gesturing toward the women and then ahead to the trail leading through the trees. He was a handsome man in a very physical way with his broad muscled shoulders, lean frame and golden-brown skin. The attraction to him only got stronger as the days passed. What would she do when they arrived at their destination? How to concentrate on being bride of the ancient Judson Lanser when this virile young man had guarded her through the mountains, and looked at her with such focussed attention her breath caught in her throat? There was a muffled shout up ahead, then a sharp bang. The men halted immediately, all attention focussed on the trail before them. More loud roars, and the guards were galvanized into action. Everyone rushed to pull weapons from their harnesses or behind their saddles, and crowd in around the women as others galloped forward into the blinding snow. Shandro moved quickly, riding in her direction and waving at his men. “Go back,” he yelled. “We don’t know what’s ahead.” The men were milling in a circle now, trying to herd the women back the way they’d come. Horses neighed and reared in the confusion. China grabbed her reins in one hand and the saddle horn in the other as her mount sidestepped swiftly and plunged into the mount beside her. Suddenly new riders appeared on both sides of the churning group. They materialised out of the trees, riding low in the saddle, weapons in hand. Mass confusion ensued. One of the guards grabbed her bridle, dragging China’s horse around to go back down the trail the way they’d come, and she clung desperately to the horn as she swayed in the saddle. There were more sharp sounds, what must be the firing of weapons although it seemed muffled by the falling snow, and in the milling of bodies she couldn’t see where they were. Then something hit her, knocking her sideways in the saddle. She reached for the horn but her hand didn’t work. The pain arrived in an overwhelming wave and she cried out low, unheard in the rush around her. Looking down, she saw blood bloom on her cloak and ripple in a slow wave down her arm. She was falling and someone was bellowing in surprise or rage, a wild cry that followed her down.
Find Prince of Jiran at: AmazonFind Sylvie Grayson at: Website

Handbag and Book: Guest #author Kryssie Fortune with #newbook Wickedly Used #readromance #accessories #Emmerdale

 
I love this handbag. It’s by Radley and it was gift. Up until two years ago, I worked for one of Britain’s top three premier soap shows. Emmerdale. I’m really proud of all they’ve achieved as a show. While there, I did some work for the costume department. When I retired, they surprised me with this. And isn’t it gorgeous? The clever ladies knew my favorite clothes were either blue or orange. When they saw this, they knew it would match almost every outfit I own. I still choke up the thought that went into this.I’d never owned a really good handbag before, thanks to them, I’m hooked. Want to know what I keep inside it?  

 
Elizabeth is an heiress to one of the largest fortunes in England, but she cannot touch her inheritance until she marries or turns thirty, and her cruel uncle has used that fact to his advantage and treats her as no more than a servant.  Lord Rothbury knows that he must marry into money so that his sisters can have the life he wants for them, and when he finds himself falling in love with a girl he believes to be a servant he tries to forget her. But letting go of Elizabeth proves much more difficult than he expected…  Find Wickedly Used at: Amazon USFind Kryssie Fortune at: Website  

Handbag & Book: Weather is Changing #rainydays #readingagoodbook #RLFblog

Today at my workout, another attendee made the remark she's sick of the rain. We've had lots of days recently with gray to pouring heavily to thunder and lightening.

But I'm not on board with that. Not so long ago, our state was under a huge drought. Some reservoirs were empty. Crops were affected. Some towns had no watering of lawns. Ours mandated two days a week in the evening. Handwatering was okay.

I never want to go through that scare again. Never.

Water is life. Without it, there is no beauty.

And on those gloomy rainy days, there's alternative activities. I love to plop on the couch with a good book, something to drink, and maybe a bag of Cheetoes. Or find a good movie and stitch to my heart's content.

I know the adora-poos aren't having fun because they can't chase the squirrels or bark at the runners. Instead, they get lots of mom time. I say that's a good thing.






Just in case you need a fun book to indulge in while rain pitter patters, here's a great deal: the Murder & Mayhem  boxed set which includes my humorous romantic mystery, Temporarily Employed:

 New Job. New Love. And Murder. Hattie Cook's dream job is down the toilet and her new SUV violated. Desperate for cash to cover the basic necessities of rent and food, she takes a temporary job where she uncovers an embezzling scam tied to the death of a former employee--the very one she replaced.

When the police determine there's more to the death of a former Buy Rite employee, Detective Allan Charles Wellborn steps in to lead the investigation. Overly dedicated, always perfect, he puts his job first, even if doing so ultimately hurts the one he loves.

Can the killer be found before Hattie's time is up?          No frisking and no arrests were--so far, in my book--a good thing. As Sarah Anne’s older brother, I found it easy to eliminate him from the stalker, murderer, and rapist categories. The something in the truckline sounded similar to approaches used in past dating experiences. For instance: “Want to come up and look at my etchings?” Translated: A roll in the hay.Or the ever popular “Would you like to meet Mr. Lizard?” Translated: Mr. Wiggly Worm.“How about coming to my place for a drink?” Translated: To ply me with multiple drinks and the requisite roll in the hay.I hadn’t fallen for those then and wasn’t going to be a sucker now.He stuck his hands on his hip and said, “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not a stalker, murderer, or rapist."  Apparently, he could read minds. "Just a minute." I closed the door partially to release the chain, then opened it. “Why can’t you just tell me whatever it is?”“No. I want to show you---” “Not a Picasso?” I asked.“No.” “Not an iguana?”A perplexed expression crossed his face. “A what?”“Not your pet worm?”“What pet worm?”“Not---”  
          “Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking. The only worms I know about are for fishing.”

Handbag and Book: Guest #author Mary Martinez - a Love Hate Relationship and #newbook Abandoned

Handbags. What can I say? I have a love / hate relationship with handbags, purses, bags of any kind. I like my hands free. If I could, I would put everything in my back pocket. Sometimes, though you just need to have something to put your things in, like when you go to NYC and you need something for all your fun purchases. All that being said, my favorite bag came from a Utah Romance Writers of America conference. It looks great and it’s classy.   Glenna Beckett loves her family dearly, but being the youngest of six can be overwhelming. Moving across country helped her learn who she was outside the family. She’s built a successful business in the form of a quaint shop on Main Street of Calistoga, that sells a bit of everything vintage, the new age term for antique. What more does she need?Then he walked into her shop. International playboy, Lance Gordon. After a whirlwind courtship he asks her to marry him. Burying a niggle of doubt in the pit of her tummy, she says yes. He’s even agreed to have the wedding in Brooklyn so her family can attend. But he never arrives.Glenna refused to believe she’d been abandoned at the altar and asks her brother, Tyler, to contact an agent friend on the West Coast to search for Lance.Patrick McGinnis can’t believe he’s walking into a prissy shop in the high end of the Napa Valley searching for a missing groom. The bride, Glenna Beckett, is everything he feared, drop dead gorgeous, and a spoiled brat. Not that he’d ever tell her brother that. He hates wild goose chases, and this mission is exactly that. Patrick’s certain the playboy fiancé is off wooing some other delectable creature.Unfortunately, once Patrick started to dig, he finds there’s more to the tale and it will take all his skills as an agent to keep Glenna safe. Especially when the case takes a turn and threatens the safety of his son, Finn.          Patrick McGinnis thumbed his phone off and dropped the thing on the table with a thud. What had he just agreed to? He held in a groan, barely.“What’s up dad? You look like you just ate a sour grape.”Finnegan, his sixteen-year old son, and the joy of his life, walked to the cupboard and pulled out a bowl. He filled it with cereal and added milk and then joined Patrick at the table. He dipped his spoon for a large scoop, and as he brought it to his mouth, Finn gave him the I’m waiting look.“I just received a call from an old friend,” he said in way of explanation, he really didn’t like talking work with his son.“It must not have been a good conversation.”“It was good to catch up. He was with me at Quantico.” Best to focus on the old acquaintance part.“Dad, I’m in high school. You can stop sheltering me now. He must have called for a reason. One you’re not too thrilled about. What’s up?” He repeated his earlier question.Damn, Finn was growing up to fast. And the kid was right. He had a tendency to shield him from his work. Something he’d always tried to do, but more since Finn was three and the worst thing that could ever happened to a child had happened.“Tyler is an agent in New York, however, he has a sister in Calistoga.”His son let out a hoot of laughter. “Match-making from the east coast.”“Ha, ha. No, his sister seems to have lost her fiancé and her assistant.”“What they elope and left her behind? Why’d he call you?”“The fiancé never arrived at the wedding. And then when his sister went to open her shop she found the assistant had been shot.”“Oh.” Finn ate for a few minutes in silence. “Does the lost fiancé and the dead assistant have something to do with each other?”“That’s one of the things Ty wants me to find out.”Finn suspended his spoon half way to his mouth. “What is the other?”“He wants me to find the missing fiancé for his sister.” He pulled his fingers through his hair. “It’s a wild goose chase if you ask me. If the guy had wanted to get married he’d have been at the wedding.”“You’d think, unless he couldn’t.”Patrick contemplated his son. He would make a good detective. He’d already helped solve a few of his cases, by just listening and making comments that brought other solutions to mind. Patrick wasn’t sure he wanted that for his son. He loved being a federal agent. For a while, after the incident with his son, he’d tried something else. However, his true passion was law enforcement and he’d been placed back on duty within the year.You couldn’t help where your heart led you. No matter the consequences. “That is what I need to find out.” He stood and poured more coffee into his cup to warm up the cooling liquid. He leaned a hip on the counter while he sipped. “What’s going on at school today?”Finn finished his cereal and stood to wash his bowl out. He appeared to be thinking as he put his dishes in the dishwasher.“I have an algebra test. Just a fair warning, Dad, it’s kicking my ass.”“Language son.” But he smiled, he’d heard a lot worse. “I have a few minutes do you need my help?”His son gave him a skeptical look, which was well warranted. Algebra had thoroughly kicked his ass in high school, too, to the point he’d needed Saturday morning classes to pass the damn class.After a moment he answered. “No, Mrs. Stewart said she’d meet me before school.”“Old Mrs. Stewart is still there? I had her for Algebra.” He smiled and resisted the urge to ruffle his son’s hair. Since the boy was almost as tall as he was, it’d be a little awkward anyway. “You’re in good hands then. Do you want me to drop you on my way to Calistoga?” Mary, I'm in love with your bag! When you are finished with it....    
 

.@VickiBatman - What Makes me Stop Writing? #readromance #RomanceLivesForever #MFRWauthor

I remember the first time my brain didn’t want to write. I’d been working on my first romantic comedy mystery for a few months when Handsome was diagnosed with throat cancer. My whole world stopped. (FMI see Romance Lives Forever at: Romance Lives Forever .)But how to keep the creativity going? I did develop a game plan—I took writing classes (didn’t comment much but worked on all lessons), played my favorite Word Search no Vowels, I critiqued with friends, journaled, attended my local romance writing chapter meetings. Most importantly, I set a deadline for after when his treatment would end and our lives would be back on track.On the designated date, I booted up my computer and found my book. It had been haunting me, and when thoughts popped in my head, boom! I wrote them down and saved them. I had decided if I could only write twenty words, that was what I would do. I started with chapter one and worked. I was so nervous because I thought what if I can’t get back in my groove? The next day, I did better, and after that, better, till finally, my fingers were flying again.
Then ten years later, Handsome had to have a reconstructive plastic surgery (FMI: Romance Lives Forever ).I had already been having trouble with my third book in the series; however, I had signed up to put a short story in an anthology. I worked and worked on it instead, and by the time we left the hospital, I’d submitted it.Sometimes, fun doesn’t end. Now, Handsome is having another reconstructive plastic surgery. And you know what? I’m in the groove. I’ve been working on my third book and things are humming. Last year, I had mega trouble with this book, but I sat down in the fall and worked out the problem, and now, it feels good.My lesson is persevere . I didn’t give up on me. I found a way to get me through the tough times. So, here’s a tiny bit from Book 3 in the Hattie Cooks mystery series, Temporarily Out of Luck: And I knew it took a great deal of courage to state what he’d just asked--to get lucky--although I knew he meant he really wanted us to explore the couple route. I knew from firsthand experience how much guts were required ‘cause several months back, I’d asked him to choose me.         -That was after I’d been stabbed.          -After I’d figured out he’d used me for information.          -After we’d nearly had almost wild, almost sex.         Sex would have been good. I set my finger to my lower lip, letting my mouth curve at the corners, remembering. Everybody knows sex is a good thing. Find all my fun at: Author Central

Handbag and Book: guest #author Jan O'Hara w a sentimental #handbag and her book-Cold and Hottie #readromance #MFRWauthor

My carpetbag isn't the most attractive, is it? Yet of all the carrying implements in my house, it's the one for which I have the most sentimental attachment.
I love this bag because I carried it during my childhood during the rare exotic trips we took as a family.
I am a child of two teachers who were careful with their money. When I was growing up, there was no such thing as choosing to eat out when you could cook, or moteling when you could camp. Oh, I'm not complaining. That model of self-sufficiency has been an asset to me my entire life.
But once a year we'd abandon frugality, and I, along with my siblings, would pack a carpetbag full of clothing and books. We'd board a train for a daylong trip through the Rockies, bound for Golden, BC. There, we'd dine in restaurants, sleep in a modest hotel, then rise and make the reverse trip home.
I look at my humble bag and remember family laughter, the rare sense of cutting loose, and even the thrill of danger. You see, there's a point in that journey to Golden where the train enters two spiral tunnels, each over half a mile in length. For breathless minutes you could see nothing but darkness and feel the immensity of the mountain surrounding you. I was always a little uncertain about whether I'd make it out the other side. Speaking of love and trips tinged with foreboding, meet the heroine in my latest offering, Cold and Hottie. Liv is about to be reunited with her ex during a teambuilding exercise in Jamaica. Only he’s the man she done wrong…and he just became her boss. Oops.

At 4:37 p.m. on Friday, after weeks of dread and just when I’ve convinced myself I’ve been spared, a dossier bearing the title Jamaica lands on my desk. Tucker had probably been aiming for my in-basket, but since he’s standing in my doorway and the basket is overflowing, the folder tips over the edge and continues its horizontal motion. It comes to rest on the refinery drawings I’ve been marking up, the right lower edge touching a pump that needs modernization.
When I find my voice I say, “You’re kidding me.”Tucker’s smile is his signature blend of cynicism and amusement. “If you pull yourself together and need to talk, I’ll be in my office for another five minutes.” He pivots on a well-shod foot and vanishes from sight.I turn the pencil in my hand and use the eraser to tease out the top sheaf of paper, willing this to be one of his practical jokes. Easy enough to put a label on a folder and pack it with documents destined for the shredder. Then to stand in the hall just out of sight, ready to pop in with a, Haha, Liv, got you good this time.
Alas, this evening brings no such luck. For there in black and white, issued in the name of one Olivia Prosser, is an e-ticket for this coming Monday morning. I’m flying from Columbus to Kingston, via Atlanta.I use the pencil to extract the next sheaf. Apparently the resort and I have corresponded, most recently when I confirmed an ocean-facing, non-smoking room with a king-sized bed.At least I was smart enough to avoid having a roommate.I close my eyes and bend forward to clunk my head repeatedly on my desk. Having seen fellow staffers open their envelopes, I don’t need to examine the rest of the paperwork to know what it contains. There will be a shiny brochure on the all-inclusive resort’s amenities. (Seven pools! Six restaurants featuring international cuisine! Unlimited soft drinks and booze in your room’s mini-fridge!) There will be a listing of optional paid activities, both inside the resort and on the island. Finally, there will be the handout delineating the source of my dry mouth and blossoming headache.I don’t need to look at the handout but…I stop banging my head and do it anyway, because some masochistic impulses can’t be resisted.Three months ago, the company I work for, HMZ Consulting, was purchased by Wakefield Enterprises. When I say “purchased,” I really mean “swallowed whole.” We were the krill to Wakefield’s blue whale. Now the time has come for us to “harmonize our corporate cultures.” Accordingly, for the past several months, select employees within my office have been receiving invitations to the upcoming retreat in Jamaica. Once trained in the ways of the mothership, they—and I guess that includes me now—will return as ambassadors to the home office, where we will spread the ways of enlightenment.Most of the five-day retreat will be run by Wakefield’s second-in-command, Yolanda Perez. The brochure photo shows a woman in her early forties with tight black braids and a confident smile. She’s a psychologist, reportedly half-crazy in her own right, and the rumors about her outdoor group exercises are downright intimidating.Then there’s the CEO, Finnegan Wakefield. I don’t know if his photo has been retouched, but thirty-four looks good on him. Even better than twenty-four did, if that’s possible.Finn is giving the Tuesday noon keynote—one hour is his full commitment for the entire program. Depending upon how he receives me, that one hour could be all it takes to upend my life.
Find Cold and Hottie at: Amazon
Find Jan O'Hara's at: Website

Jan, I just love this cover and your handbag! Thank you for being with me today.