Medical Miracle

Fiorella's second son was a medical miracle after four years of waiting, and he made up for the lost time by being so big that her obstetrician had Fio x-rayed for twins. So big that a stranger in the Sears Roebuck parking lot told Fio that she was the biggest pregnant woman he'd ever seen. So big that her shoe size went from an eight to a ten--permanently. But Fio loved every moment of her pregnancy.

The birth, though, was another matter. Son got stuck and Fiorella had to have an emergency c-section without anesthetic, but son--all eleven pounds, six ounces of him--was perfect. And in Fio's eyes, he's been perfect ever since.

 

Literary Research

Fiorella will tell you that the reason she writes contemporary romances is because she doesn't want to bother with research, but don't believe her.  She might not have to research petticoats and bloomers, but she does have to learn about such things as the places her characters live, what they do for a living, what cars are  appropriate for them, and their supposed backgrounds and life experiences.

For Where the Heart Leads, which will come out on November 11, Fio peppered five rancher friends with endless lists  of questions about life among the cows.  She also consulted an architect, a nurse, a firearms expert, two friends with Master's degrees in theater,  a high school principal, a foodie, an expert on Britishisms, a fire builder, and a wine expert.

And tomorrow, for Phillipa's unnamed novella, she's going to sally forth and visit a place that sells landscaping materials, drop by Dairy Queen to check out how a Blizzard and a small ice cream cone would be eaten, and stop at Walgreens to pick up a home pregnancy test.

Don't ask.

Celebrity Snippets

Jennifer vs. Angelina.  Forget about Brad Pitt--it's the belly vs. the breasts to determine who can generate the most publicity,  Jennifer Aniston's supposed pregnancy or Angelina Jolie's mastectomy.
Right now, Jennifer's winning.  If she wears anything other than skin-tight, she's supposedly proved the tabloids right.
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Now that Lindsay Lohan is locked away for a couple of months, there's a new loony tune in Hollywood, and her name is Amanda Bynes.  What is it about child stars when they grow up?
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Meanwhile the Kardashians are dashian from spotlight to spotlight, still with no visible talent whatsoever except being able to have sex in the spotlight.
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And if the ladies, aren't enough, Michael Douglas has told us more about his sexual habits than we really wanted to know.  Um--keep your mouth shut, Mike.

Whew!

Fiorella's happy.  Yesterday she finished typing in the thirteen pages of HONEYSUCKLE DREAMS that her laptop had gobbled up on Sunday, finished her umpteenth edit of the book, ran a copy of it off for Georgetown friend Suzy, and sent an email attachment of it to Bastrop friend Joan. The addition of three new threads--crystal meth, possible pregnancy, and a Hollywood star--have swelled the wordage to almost 95,000 words so Fio hopes Suzy and Joan will still be her friends after they've hefted the manuscript.

So now Fio has to figure out how to use Dropbox or something similar to avoid another near-disaster like the thirteen digested pages, and she has to catch up with everything else she put off while she was devoting all her time to HD.  Little things--like figuring income taxes.