Posted by debjulienne | 11:03 AM | Deb Julienne, debut novel, New Releases, romantic comedy | 11 comments »
Am I ready? Yes and no.
There's so much to do, from interviews, promotion, blog tours, to any kind of promotion and hype I can create, hoping to entice readers.
A part of me can't wait, hoping someone will like the book, maybe even snicker. The other part feels as if I still have so much left to do. But how prepared can you actually be for your debut novel. I have no cotton-picking idea. It's like thinking you're prepared for a new baby. You have the room painted and decorated, the crib is set up with clean new linen, the closet is filled to the brim with freshly laundered clothes, you have plenty of diapers and wipes as well as all the accessories you can think of, and a toy box full of toys to boot. You have it all...but the baby. That's how I feel...and the waiting is killing me.
Thirty years ago, I was 2 weeks from delivering my first born. I was tired of pacing the apartment so while my husband was at work I went to visit my folks. Mom was in the midst of making "Friendship Cakes" and asked if I wanted to help. If you know me, you know I've never turned down a chance to play in the kitchen...EVER!
I pushed up my sleeves and dug in, criso and floured pans, helped measure ingredients, and helped with prep of dicing the fermented fruits.
Mom poured in the cake mixes and we added the ingredients one at a time. Now mind you, up to this point it was, pardon the pun, it was a piece of cake. Out of nowhere, my mom turns on the mixer BEFORE she put it into the bowl of ingredients. The second the flying beaters hit the ingredients stuff starting flying. She switched off the mixer, looked at me like I'd done it. We both started laughing, covered in powdered ingredients, fruity liquid, and gooey egg on our faces. We clean ourselves up and continue.
Low and behold she did it again...only this time, for some reason she couldn't stop the mixer, her fingers kept slipping, until finally she lifted the mixer again slinging batter everywhere, she couldn't see what she was doing any more than I could and somehow I managed to accidently tip the bowl, dumping a huge glob on the floor.
In itself this was bad enough, only with our faces are covered in batter, I can't see, she can't see, and simultaneously we both step into the puddle on the floor, and proceed to start slip, feet zig zagging on the floor, sliding as we lost our balance. Leaning on each other we both went down. Luckily for me it was a slow slide, so no injury. Once on the floor we floundered, slipped, slid, rolled, and laughed unable to get up. You can guess how hard I laughed...and you'd be right!
This is where my dad walked in. All it took was one look on his face and we lost it completely. He stood in the kitchen entry way, staring down at us, open mouthed, and neither of us could say a word, we were laughing too hard.
He managed to get mom up. Then it took both of them carefully and cautiously to get my lard butt up. We carefully cleaned up the floor, counters, cupboards, canisters, anything in a fifteen foot spray radius. Only when we were done, was dad able to get a ladder and clean off the ceiling.
How I dearly wish I had a picture of the carnage we managed that day. At the same time I'd give anything to have mom here, one more time, make her laugh, reminding her of that day. Just like my book, I wish I could share it with her. Although, I guarantee, the title alone would earn me an eye-roll.
At this time, I'd like to ask that you join me in celebrating what I hope will be a successful launch where: 'Even “the girl next door” can get revenge with the right tools in Sex, Lies, and Beauty Aids.'
Title: Sex, Lies and Beauty Aids
Tag line: "Sex, lies, and beauty aids" finally earn the girl next door a little respect.
Official Blurb: Sabrina Thompson, editor of Skin Deep Magazine’s successful Natural Beauty Secrets column, is handed the challenge of her life. Take over the Love and Sex column or lose her job. What does a twenty-four year old virgin know about love or sex when she's never been on a third date? To complicate matters, there’s a new guy at the helm. Her only crush’s clone is issuing orders. While his pompous and ambitious twin dries out, playboy and ne’er-do-well Trent Wellington must assume his identity and save his family’s flailing magazine. The bright spot amid staff cuts and content restructuring is the plucky editor he once made a fool of himself in front of at a family gathering. Fooling everyone isn’t easy, especially when Sabrina inspires his true self to be more than he ever has.
Years of hearing she’s too nice to date have left Sabrina’s frustration simmering. It boils over when she discovers Trent’s deceit and she vows to make him pay. Getting even has never been so much fun.
CONTENT WARNING: mature language, sexual situations
A Lyrical Press/Kensington Book Contemporary Romance
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