Reviewing yesterday's blog, Fiorella suddenly realized that, because her mother refused to drive, Mom was home all day. which is why her house was an HG dream come true. Fiorella, on the other hand spends hours on the road, and her house shows it. Excuses, excuses, you say, but Mother never drove over to Sun City and bullheadedly refused to give up her quest till she'd found Friend Suzy's address two hour later.
Speaking of Friend Suzy, she called yesterday afternoon and raved about HONEYSUCKLE DREAMS, saying it was different from any romance she'd ever read before, that it just kept on going, that she couldn't put it down, and that it would be a best-seller. Fiorella drank in every every word and hopes the divine Liza will feel the same way, and maybe a publisher or two will too.
Of course, as Fio's told you before, the only reason she can write romances is that her mother is dead. Although Mother read them--steamy ones--by the score, she'd be terribly embarrassed if people knew her daughter had written one. Just as Fio's kids are going to be terribly embarrassed that's she's publishing under her own name.