Selection from WHAT THE HEART WANTS

Jase drove slowly down the road, searching for his old home.  

He knew twilight was a great equalizer, but the neighborhood sure looked a lot better  than it had ten years go when he'd come back to town after Growler drowned in the Bosque River after a night of heavy drinking.  In fact, it looked downright respectable--without a single junk pile, broken-down car or scavenging dog pack in sight,  

Thank God that Lolly would never know the squalor he'd grown up in.  "Poor but honest" was the picture he'd always painted of his family--he'd sugar-coated his childhood and said squat about why he'd left town.

His high beam cut across the front of the house as he turned into the drive, but there was no forlorn teenager sitting on the front steps. 

His mouth went dry and his chest tightened.  

What if . . .

No, he refused to go down that road.  He was Lolly’s father.  He’d know if something had happened to her--wouldn’t he?

He ran his eyes over the shadowed porch again

Goddamn--where was she?  If she wasn't at Kinkaid House, she had to be here.

He backed the Cadillac into the driveway--if there was an emergency, he needed to be able to haul ass.  Easing himself out of the car, he leaned against the side of it for a long moment, gazing into the sky and trying to be logical while his heart raced like the Indianapolis 500.  .

Maybe she'd found a way to get into the house. Girl Child had been an expert at picking locks ever since she was two, when she'd shrieked "Me do it!" and unbuckled her own carseat belt, which, of course, meant he had to spend half the night on the internet, searching for a tamperproof model.   Truth be told, he was proud of her willfulness, even encouraged it,  As far as he was concerned, it was a survival trait.

But there was a big difference between a willful toddler unlocking her seat belt and a willful fifteen-year-old taking off down I-35 on her own.

And, oh God, I love her so much.

He shoved off the  had to car and walked up onto the porch, took one last look around, and flipped on the lights.

"Lolly?"

His voice echoed in the empty house.

Maybe she hadn't heard him.

"Lolly!"

No answer.

He made a swift search of every room, opening every closet, then checked out back.

Nada.

A chill crept over him.

He walked into his old room at the front of the house, raised the blind on the lone window, and looked up at the evening star--the wishing star, as Aunt Maxie called it--and wished his daughter to miraculously appear.

Fiorella's Literary Identity

Who the heck does Fiorella write like? Fiorella sent the first two chapters of Kinkaid House out to RWA members willing to speculate, and the votes are starting to come in.

Friend Janece nominates Grace Metalious of Peyton Place fame, plus Sandra Brown and Tami Hoag, in romance rather than mystery mode.  Friend Vivien, who said KH feels like small-town, but not sweet-tea-and-mint, suggests a cross between a Lifetime movie and Twin Peaks.  "There's an edge here," she adds. "There's that lingering sense that a lot of dark is going on under the surface."  To which Fio replies, "You bet your booty!"

Anyone else want to check out the first two chapters?

Back in the Saddle Again

Bounce-back Fio has done it again.  She's risen from the depths of despair to the heights of--well, not exactly euphoria, but her self-confidence is high.  Of course, it helps that the weather is cool, that she's been sleeping well, and that the holidays are just around the corner. But the major mover is that Fio's fought her way through the fog and and remembered who she is.

Fiorella will never "fit into" the pack.  It isn't her nature. The only person she writes like is herself, which means her romances are unique.  Thus Kinkaid House will either bomb like Nagasaki or move her to the top of the heap. Either way, she'll keep on writing.

Ride'em, cowboy!

Too Busy

Stop the world!  Fiorella doesn't want to get off, but she does want a week or two to catch up.  Yes, she's overloaded again.  Now that the weather is cooler, she wants to work on the yard.  But she's also committed to sending her editor a sketch of a cover for Kinkaid House. And she needs to finish Lolly's story and start on a story bridging Laurel's story and Lolly's story, and write Sarah's story.  And she needs to get the painting up that Husband brought home from the office, but there's no room on the walls because Fio has the house plastered with art.

Fio also needs to do the physical therapy exercises that she's been shirking, and her vocal exercises, which she keeps putting off.  And she needs to find the three pairs of glasses she's lost, one of them brand new.  And she needs to clean up her desk and go through the mountains of scraps of paper on which she's written down various brilliant ideas. And she needs to run up a sample of the little purse she'd like to sell on-line. And she needs to find the deed the lawyer wants to see in regard to the family business venture.

And redo the bulletin board, which is now in layers.  And call her ophthalmologist for her yearly check-up and the veterinarian for Sonia Dog's semi-annual check-up.  And buy a new battery for her overused computer.  And check IKEA for some decent kitchen chairs.  And drop by WalMart to buy Shredded Wheat because HEB doesn't carry Post anymore.  And consult Click Computers to find out if she actually has Mozy or not and how to get rid of Barracuda, an over-zealous spam filter that took over her email unasked.

Then there are the everyday things, like keeping up with Sonia's training, practicing piano, lifting weights (just five-pounders), and picking up the house.

And to think, her parents kept advising her to stop and smell the roses.  

Too Busy

Stop the world!  Fiorella doesn't want to get off, but she does want a week or two to catch up.  Yes, she's overloaded again.  Now that the weather is cooler, she wants to work on the yard.  But she's also committed to sending her editor a sketch of a cover for Kinkaid House. And she needs to finish Lolly's story and start on a story bridging Laurel's story and Lolly's story, and write Sarah's story.  And she needs to get the painting up that Husband brought home from the office, but there's no room on the walls because Fio has the house plastered with art.

Fio also needs to do the physical therapy exercises that she's been shirking, and her vocal exercises, which she keeps putting off.  And she needs to find the three pairs of glasses she's lost, one of them brand new.  And she needs to clean up her desk and go through the mountains of scraps of paper on which she's written down various brilliant ideas. And she needs to run up a sample of the little purse she'd like to sell on-line. And she needs to find the deed the lawyer wants to see in regard to the family business venture.

And redo the bulletin board, which is now in layers.  And call her ophthalmologist for her yearly check-up and the veterinarian for Sonia Dog's semi-annual check-up.  And buy a new battery for her overused computer.  And check IKEA for some decent kitchen chairs.  And drop by WalMart to buy Shredded Wheat because HEB doesn't carry Post anymore.  And consult Click Computers to find out if she actually has Mozy or not and how to get rid of Barracuda, an over-zealous spam filter that took over her email unasked.

Then there are the everyday things, like keeping up with Sonia's training, practicing piano, lifting weights (just five-pounders), and picking up the house.

And to think, her parents kept advising her to stop and smell the roses.  

Onion

Let's make one thing clear. Fiorella doesn't write in one steady flow.  Instead, she jots down ideas and dialogue, tries to put everything in a logical order, then rewrites and rewrites and rewrites, paying special attention to notes written in caps to BE SURE THE BASEBALL IS MENTIONED EARLIER or whatever.  Her manuscripts grow layer by layer, like an onion.  Kinkaid House, complete at 90,000 words when Fio originally submitted it to the Divine Liza, had been fleshed out to 95,000 words by the time it reached the desk of editor Michele.  If Fio has further access, it probably will reach 100,000.

And, by the way, when the book comes out, Fio expects all you readers out there in Eastern Europe to gobble it up and send her to the top of the New York Times best seller list.

Dreamland

What if, when Fiorella tripped over that sneaky hotel step in Atlanta and hit her head on the concrete curb, she went into a coma and is even now in a hospital being kept alive by tubes and tender care?  It would mean that everything that's happened to her since the national RWA conference is a morphine dream,  that she didn't really meet and connect with her agent in person, that she didn't really have editors from three big publishing houses want Kinkaid House, that she didn't really receive an offer from Grand Central, that Michele Biedelspach won't be her editor.  It would mean that Husband didn't surprise her with a Dove bar after she'd had a hard time working out the rehearsal dinner for Son's wedding, that her hair doesn't look extra good right now, that an old friend hasn't contacted her on Facebook.

What the heck--if Fio is floating off in a fantasy somewhere, reality can go fly a kite.

Drum Roll, Please!

FIORELLA HAS A PUBLISHER!

KINKAID HOUSE (nee PRINCESS OF BOSQUE BEND aka HONEYSUCKLE DREAMS) WILL BE PUT OUT THIS SPRING BY A TOP-TIER PUBLISHER, GRAND CENTRAL (HACHETTE GROUP)!

Down-hearted

Remember that Fiorella bunged up a leg and her head in Atlanta?  Well, it's not over yet.  A couple of days ago her ankle developed purple splotches halfway up to her knee and, although the yellow on her forehead is fading, she now has a port-wine stain between her left eye and her nose down onto her cheek.  The doctor said the stain will dissipate eventually, but Fio is terribly self-conscious about it. 

Fiorella's also downhearted about the business situation she handles for the family.  Everything looked so promising last month, but now it's all gone down the drain. And she's depressed about her  physical infirmities--vocal tremor, poor balance, bad eyesight, kyphosis.  And she mourns a friendship that died in Atlanta.  And, for all her brave words, she's discouraged about Kinkaid House's chances of ever seeing the publishing light of day.

Fiorella, who is very weak, prays for strength because the only way she can go is forward. 

Always Busy

Fiorella lives in a house of many unfinished projects, some of them Husband's (who has a REAL job), and most of them hers.  Upstairs on the landing, she has an art desk piled with paintings she wants to do more work on--and just this week she found an old sketch from a life drawing (translation: nude) session she wants to enlarge and frame--or even use as the basis for a painting.

Then there's the genealogy stuff on her mother's family yet to be researched.  Thank goodness Cousin Norma took care of Dad's family history, but Fio would like to set up spreading family trees for both sides of the family so we all know who our distant cousins are and when one of them ends up in the White House, we can wangle invitations to the inauguration. 

The house itself is another unfinished project, partially because Son isn't totally moved out yet, partially because the garage still contains unpacked boxes from when Husband and Fio moved in eight years ago, and partially because Fio has several sewing projects piled up in the workroom/utility room.

Then there's the major project--writing the Lolly book, the one that follows Kinkaid House.  Fiorella is up to chapter nine now, almost halfway through, but she's a slow writer, dammit.

Oh, and Fio has left out the dog training so that Sonia can be socially acceptable.  And probably countless other projects.

But eventually she'll finish them all.  After all, it took her a month, but she finally polished off the silver.

Another Baby Step

Fiorella has made another step forward in the literary world.  Yes,  two editors--at Gallery and, of all things, Harlequin--have said they like Kinkaid House and have sent it to second readers.

The first time around, before the new threads were added, five editors "passed" right off the bat.  This time, only two did, and three more editors, one of whom had said she would reconsider KH if the sagging middle were fixed, have not yet responded.

The whole thing may yet go down the drain, of course, but Fio's never made it this far before.

Why the F*** Not?

Your Fiorella is a born rebel, especially against herself.  All it takes is her making a declaration like "I will never ever use slang or medical terminology for sex organs in my books" to challenge herself to do the same.  Thus while genteel Laurel Harlow, the heroine of Kinkaid House, couldn't even bring herself to say "damn," much less refer to her lover's private parts, Lolly Redlander, the free-wheeling heroine of Princess Redlander (which will probably end up retitled) uses all the words and then some.

Now, the question is whether Fiorella has Lolly using a blue vocabulary because it is in her  character, or whether Fiorella set up the character to use that vocabulary and thus prove herself wrong. 

Midst the Madding Crowd!

Fio's world is full to the brim right now.  (1) Kensington turned down Kinkaid House because the story is too gritty for them, but the editor liked Fio's voice and wants to see more of what she's written.  (Sorry, guy, Fio writes gritty.)  (2) Fiorella's critique partner called and invited Fio to join her in Atlanta at the national RWA conference in July, and Fio said yes.  (3) The business deal seems to be coming to a head--again--and there's a concomitant lawsuit which Fio, Husband, and Nephew are filing. (4) Fiorella is almost nine chapters into the next book of her linked trilogy that starts with Kinkaid House.  And she's making notes for the third one.

Ain't it grand!!! Fio feels so alive!!!

Good Morning!

Fiorella's consciousness can be pretty dumb, but her sub-conscious is brilliant. She went to bed with a problem she couldn't solve--a knot in the line of the story she's working on now, the follow-up of Kinkaid House.  And in the early morning light, the solution came to her, complete with dialogue.

Ah--sleep, my genius, the silent author.

Ding-danged Out!

Let's look at Fio's score for the week.  Monday, as she remembers, was okay, but on Tuesday she arrived at Chili's an hour late, only acceptable because Friend Katie, whom she was supposed to be meeting, didn't show at all because her daughter had pink eye.  What was not acceptable was that Fio left her credit card at Chili's and had to pay cash for purchases for the next couple of days instead of adding to her frequent flyer miles.  On Wednesday she got a sudden a migraine aura driving home from ARWA which splintered her vision so badly that she nearly plowed into a light pole. On Thursday, she forgot a medical appointment, but did manage to overbalance herself and fall splat down onto the road while trying to retrieve rocks from the dry creek with which to line her driveway.  She also realized she had written the wrong amount on a big, important check.  On Friday, she discovered she was down to two pills of her blood pressure med, then learned her insurance will no longer cover that particular brand and had to make a couple of calls to get a different one; mismanaged her schedule and was out retrieving her credit card at the time that she had told Son she'd be home and help him pack; and accidentally ate her temporary crown along with a bagel.

And her hair won't work and she's tired, but she can't sleep, and that mountain range of cedar mulch still looms in the north yard, and she hasn't heard from her agent so that means Kinkaid House is still an orphan. 

Had enough?  Bet you wish Fio were still writing about her concepts of God.

Organized Possibilities

Okay, Fio will confess all.

Kinkaid House is now on a two-week exclusive with a top publisher.  One week has passed without comment, which means, in order of diminishing possibilities, (1) the editor hasn't read it yet, (2) she's reading it now, or (3) she's finished reading it and (a) will send her "I'll pass" tomorrow, or (b) needs time to mull the story over, or (c) absolutely loves it and the contract is in the mail.

No wonder Fiorella can't sleep.

Uptight at NIght

Fiorella had an anxiety dream last night, a variation of the old standard of walking into a classroom and discovering there was a big test she hadn't prepared for.  This time--don't laugh--there were some important visitors coming to the college, and she had to be sure her underwear was clean. So she ran every dainty she owned through the washer--and she owned far more in her dream than in real life because it took load after load and she fell asleep and didn't get the task finished.  That meant she couldn't go to school the next day, which meant she missed out on something big, which meant all of her hard work up to this point had been in vain.

You think Fio is anxious about Kinkaid House making the rounds of publishers or what?

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

According to Hollywood, tattoos and light beards are in, but hairy chests are out. In fact, except for minimal underarm shadows, men are as hairless below the neck as the day they were born. Romance covers, of course, follow the trend. And, going by the photos certain authors post on FaceBook, male models are also bathing in olive oil.

As usual, Fiorella is counter-culture. Jase, her hero in Princess of Bosque Bend aka Honeysuckle Dreams, now Kinkaid House, is a big, hulking Esau.  Enjoy!