Last night, I was so busy wrangling the littles and cooking a dinner I wouldn’t even get to eat myself (long story) that I missed a call I would much rather have been taking from Fenley Grant. It was the best kind of call from someone with a strange number: a call to tell me I’d won something. Not a free three-night stay in Las Vegas if I agree to listen to a brief ::cough::not brief::cough:: sales pitch—something far more awesome than that.
I’m excited to share that early chapters of my brand-spanking-new manuscript, “Love in an Elevator”, just finaled in the Great Expectations Contest put on by North Texas RWA! I know, I know—it’s not good that I just put a 1989 Aerosmith song in your head…
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