Book Blasts, Gushing Muses, and Four-Syllable Words

I did it again!!

I'm having someone else help me with my promotions.  Lisa (or Tasty Lisa as I've dubbed her!) over at Tasty Book Tours is helping me out once more. She's so helpful!  Anyway, she is setting up a Release Day Book Blast for my story Addicted to Ansley.

She will provide the book cover, book blurb, excerpt, author info and custom tour banner (plus an E-Galley copy of the story for anyone actually interested in reading and reviewing it) for a Book Blast post that will take place on March 18th!!  If anyone (hint, hint) wants in on the action and would like to help me blast about my newest release on March 18th, you can go HERE to set it up with Lisa.

I came up with a quick little blurb for my sweet contemporary, Addicted to Ansley. It's not the official one, but if you're curious what it's about, then:

Ward Gemmell's day started like any other, giving a speech at a high school to warn kids away from drugs, to warn them from becoming what he'd become. He had no idea he'd end up meeting his daughter at the end of that speech or that he'd find himself back in the life of the woman he never forgot. 

In other writing news: My muse has attacked BIG TIME. After finishing up Addiction to Ansley, I'd been kind of floating, just playing around with a dozen different stories, writing on one WIP one day and doodling with another the next.

One of these stories (the one I was talking about a few weeks ago--about how I stole the idea off a book blurb I'd read, remember? No. Oh, well. Anyway, it) really started bugging me this week. On Sunday, I didn't even have six thousand words in my Word document for it. On Wednesday, I almost had thirty thousand.  Yeah, the ideas just...came. So, I typed. And now I want to talk about my story! A lot. To someone. Anyone!

Has this ever happened to you? Do you get really excited about an idea and you just want to tell someone about, but you don't know if it's too soon. Seriously, though, I want some kind of validation. I need someone to hear my idea and say, "Wow, Linda. That's a bestseller, right there." I think I'll bug my sister about it first. Unless...do you want to hear about it? Do you? I'll tell you! I swear.

Moving along!

Little Big Mouth (aka, my daughter--geesh, It must be my week to give people strange new monikers!) has struck again! She's not giving away secrets this time, but she's just saying things that crack me up! "Comfortable" is her new word! That's four-syllables and one word for a not-quite-yet-three-year-old. I have no idea if this is typical or not, but I'm going to go with the whole she's-the-smartest-kid-in-the-world theory!

Smart or not, she still needs to learn to sleep. She woke me at two-thirty on a Monday night saying her belly hurt. Since (for some strange reason I do not understand) she has to poop in her bedroom closet--in her diaper, mind you--she wanted to go lay in the closet...at two-thirty.  Yeah, i know. Worst of all, she made me go with her. So, while she's camped out in a plush nest of pillows and blankets on the closet floor, my big, 'ol adult body has no padding under me. But Little Big Mouth has to go and ask, "Are you comfortable, Mommy?"

No!  I wasn't comfortable. At all. I wanted to be asleep. In my bed.

Anyway, time passed, my grumpiness continued, and I finally got to crawl into my bed at four.  Two days later, she's up at a quarter 'til five o'clock, which is when I typically get up to get ready for work. So I plop her into bed with Daddy while I take my shower. She falls asleep until I have to rewake her to take her to the babysitter.  Still half out of it, she grumbles. "No...I comfortable," when I pull she sheets off her.

So, that's what's up with my kiddo. Pulling out four-syllable words, keeping me up at all hours of the day and night, and pooping in her closet. What a life.

Have a good weekend, everyone!