I do!  A few months ago I was in need of a day away from my kids, spouse, and chore-filled house, so I scheduled a morning appointment for a haircut/color and an afternoon appointment (thanks to a ‘spa days’ coupon) for a massage.

         I arrived at the hair salon full of excitement about my relaxing day.  When I sat down to have the what-are-we-going-to-do-today discussion, I thought I looked okay, save for the dead ends and overgrown roots.  But then, for the better part of an hour and a half, I was forced to stare at myself in the salon mirror.  That’s a long time to stare at oneself, especially with a towel-wrapped head and then with bedraggled wet hair.  My mood wavered then started sliding.

         What can I do, I wondered, about this situation?  (Namely, the situation of MY FACE.)  I’d recently turned 40 and was fresh out of the power to turn back time.

         I conceded that there was much I could not do.  But was there anything I COULD do to help myself along?  Inspiration struck.  My eyebrows!  Yes, I decided.  A woman of any age can pursue good eyebrows!

         So, before my massage, I followed a friend’s recommendation to a nail salon in a strip mall that offers facial waxing.  A young woman escorted me to a private room in the back — clean, spare, neat — and directed me to lie down.  I did.  She leaned over my face and observed my eyebrow flaws critically, slathered on warm strips of wax, then jerked off the strips.  It was painful enough to cause me to cringe and flinch.  But for those of us who’ve survived childbirth, an acceptable pain-price in exchange for shapely brows.

         When she finished, she passed a hand mirror to me.

         Ah, good, I thought darkly.  Another mirror!

         While the eyebrows themselves looked well-groomed, the skin around them looked… extremely angry.  It had turned bright red, which I believed to be normal.  But there were also some not-so-normal looking patches below both brows.  You know how a burn looks?  Sort of smooth and shiny?  That’s how those areas looked.  As if the wax may have… pulled off the very top layer of my skin.

         I assured myself this couldn’t be the case and headed to my massage.  The waiting room had been wall-papered with — you guessed it — mirrors!  Upon further study it really did appear that my brow bone region was missing some epidermis.

         Hm.  And oh, dear.

         I was called back to the massage room, where I spoke with the therapist while trying not to look self-conscious about my red and white raccoon face.  I lay down on the table and placed my face on the cloth-covered, donut-shaped head rest.

         Let’s just say that my strong eyebrow anxiety made massage enjoyment difficult.  I worried, quite sincerely, that my scars would stick to the cloth headrest cover and that I’d try to turn over only to take the cloth and the whole donut up with me.

         Alas, God had pity on me.  When it came time to turn over, nothing stuck.

         But the following days confirmed that I had, indeed, lost a thin slice of skin above each eye.  Relatively easily hidden and quickly healed.  Still.  Enough to convince me that eyebrow waxing isn’t for me.

         The story would end there.  Maybe should have ended there.  Except that I’ve never been easily deterred from a goal.

         So the next time my brows needed attention, I took myself to a kiosk at the Galleria Mall.  There, within view of every shopper in North Dallas, I allowed a wizened gentleman to roll and rip my eyebrow hairs out using threads.  It looks peaceful but it’s as painful as the waxing, only slower.  Again, for those of us who’ve survived childbirth… yada yada.

         I walked away from the kiosk with charming brows, all my skin, and a thimble full of extra wisdom.  1) Hair salon mirrors are not my friend.  They’re more like a business adversary.  Best not to worry too much about OR trust too much in the things they tell me.  2) Sculpted brows are nice to have, but not essential in any way.  3) God has His ways of keeping us all humble.

How do you keep your eyebrows looking fabulous?  What’s your favorite spa treatment? 

And look at this!

Win a Nook Simple Touch™ with GlowLight™ in Becky Wade’s My Stubborn Heart Giveaway and RSVP for FB Party {5/24}!

Celebrate with Becky by entering her My Stubborn Heart Giveaway and connecting with her during the Author Chat Party on 5/24!

One fortunate winner will receive:

• A Brand New Nook Simple Touch™ with GlowLight™
• A $25 Barnes & Noble Gift Certificate
• A copy of My Stubborn Heart by Becky Wade

Enter today by clicking one of the icons below. But hurry, the giveaway ends at noon on May 24th. Winner will be announced at the “My Stubborn Heart” Author Chat Facebook Party on 5/24. Becky will be hosting an book chat, testing your trivia skills and giving away some great prizes!

So grab your copy of My Stubborn Heart and join Becky on the evening of the May 24th for a chance to meet Becky and make some new friends. (If you haven’t read the book – don’t let that stop you from coming!)

 Don’t miss a moment of the fun. RSVP today and tell your friends via FACEBOOK or TWITTERand increase your chances of winning. Hope to see you on the 24th!Becky Wade makes her home in Dallas, Texas with her husband, three children, and one adoring (and adored) cavalier spaniel. Her inspirational contemporary romance, My Stubborn Heart, has just been released by Bethany House.

Power Panel at MERWA

Oh — and I love coming home with a list of books to find (both more writing and/or research books as well as new romance authors recommended during those conferences and workshops!

But really, I think it boils down to the fact that I really REALLY love writers.  Leave us alone and soon we’re talking about people who aren’t real, situations that will be the catalysts that incite the characters to move and change and even ways to kill people!  So many interesting conversations about factoids and details. So many chance encounters that will help or entertain me. So many special moments meeting and getting to know more writers.

Denise Robbins

Even though this was a small conference, more like a retreat, focusing on some basic workshops along with writing (or chatting) time, it met or exceeded my expectations!  Denise Robbins led us through a characterization workshop and I will never be able to say or think the name ‘Raphael’ without sighing. A panel made up off bestselling authors Tess Gerritsen, Kathy Lynn Emerson (aka Kate Emerson), James Hayman and their agent Meg Ruley answered lots of questions about how and why they write, the business and the secrets of the universe  — Meg even  reminded me  during an informal reception that the meaning of life is 42!

And lest you think conferences like this are all work and no fun, you should know that the MERWA group even. . . ahem. . . arranged. . .er. . .participated in an upclose look at how firemen work — a surprise field trip event happened in the middle of the night when the fire and evacuation alarms went off, forcing us to seek safety outside the hotel. And, in those confused, somewhat frightening moments, inspiration of a different kind — but inspiring nonetheless — it gave us all a chance to observe how people react in emergencies.  . . and to watch the fire department respond, too!

Inspiration comes at the weirdest times, in the most unexpected ways and even when we’re not prepared — or when we look like this >>>>>>>>>>>>

How about you? Where do you find inspiration – for writing, for your work, for your passion? Do you find it reading books? Talking to people? Watching hunky firemen answer the call in the middle of the night? What’s your inspiration in life?

   Terri is busy at work on a new project (another Highlander story!) and awaiting the release of TAMING THE HIGHLAND ROGUE (in August) and THE HIGHLANDER’S STOLEN TOUCH (in September). She’ll be presenting workshops and signing throughout the summer. Visit her website for more info about all that!

Though I was on the swim team and did work as a life guard at the very posh Disney’s Grand Floridian Resort…ah, the good old days when I had a totally awesome tan, a skinny young body & my biggest worry was if I’d get time off to go to the beach and show it off!

What’s your best memory from the past? Not kids or getting married but something silly.

Extraordinary nooky. There’s not a lot of mediocre sex in romance novel. Well, it may be alluded to as in I don’t know what the big fuss is over sex! until, of course, Our Hero comes waltzing into town. And then she shall know what the big fuss is, oh, yes! And it’s always wonderful. No one ever says, “Hurry up, okay? Letterman’s starting.”

Fabulous apartments in Manhattan. How is that so many barely-employed people can afford lofts in SoHo? How many great-aunts must’ve died to will them those rent-controlled palaces on the Upper West Side? Remember Friends? Please. A waitress at a coffee shop could not afford even to look at Manhattan, let alone live there. Not unless she had a generous and dead great-aunt, that is. How about the movie Hitch, one of my favorites? A reporter lives in a huge apartment. Huge. She lives there alone. A reporter. (Pause for laughter).

Thoughtfully prepared meals for one. Does no one eat Kraft dinner anymore? Shovel in iffy yogurt whilst standing in front of the sink? Does a person really set the table for one, light a candle, and pour a glass of wine, then sit there and eat?  I don’t. I whip up my favorite orange food, take the pot and the wooden spoon, plunk down in my chair and fire up Real Housewives for a half hour of soul-damaging trash TV. And I love it!

Single, available men littering the streets. When I was single, not one of my friends ponied up an array of handsome, single, straight, employed brothers. Clearly, I should’ve traded in my friends, but I’m loyal. Sigh. Nor did I ever live next to a firehouse filled with attractive single men. Nor an Army base filled with same. Nor a boarding house, though to be honest, if a guy told me he was living in a boarding house, I would wonder about his prison record.

Ah-choo! No one gets truly ill in a romance. Might our heroine (but never our hero) barf after over-indulging on the old pink martinis? Sure. Will she ever get food poisoning, requiring not just a toilet, but a wastebasket too? No. She will not. Might she sniffle adorably while clad in goofy pajamas and murmur the words I glub oo, which the hero will know truly mean I love you? Yes! Will she cough so hard she vomits? No. In romance novels, “in sickness and in health” really only means in adorable sickness but mostly health.

Well, we read romance novels for escapism, right? What could be nicer than a world where we really could afford those fab apartments next to firehouses populated by straight, single men? Leave a comment about your favorite aspects of a romance, and I’ll send one of you a signed copy of UNTIL THERE WAS YOU, in which Our Hero is adorably injured, Our Heroine lives in a place she should not rightfully be able to afford, and the two of them have extraordinary nooky.

I could tell her mind was on shoes last Saturday as she gathered her outfit for the year-end dinner and dance that she was to attend that night, which was sponsored by a school club.  She had nice dressy heels to wear, but they were a bit high for dancing.  Her flat shoes pinched her feet.  She could, however, make either pair work if she needed to.

She and I went out to our favorite sushi restaurant for lunch that day, only to find we’d arrived fifteen minutes before it was due to open (their Saturday hours are different from their regular weekly hours).  Since temperatures are already volcanic here in Florida, we didn’t want to stand around outside.

“Want to look at shoes?” I asked, pointing to the DSW across the parking lot.

My daughter shrugged, still preoccupied with plans for the evening.  “Sure.”

Truth be told, I’d never been inside a DSW.  Wow.  Talk about shoe overload.  As I wandered the aisles of sandals, boots, dressy heels, and more, my daughter started trying things on.  A big grin on her face, she waved me over to where she was tottering around in a pair of lacy black shoes that were a cross between an ankle-hugging boot and an open toe shoe—and at least five inches high.

“I really like these,” she said.  I sensed she was thinking about buying them to wear to the dance.

“They’re cute, but can you walk in them?”  I answered.  She could walk, sort of, but we both agreed we’d set those aside and think about them while we looked at other styles.

During our browsing, we came upon a pair of flat black sandals with glittery rhinestones and a lacy bow.  She slipped them on.  On her slender feet, they looked fabulous.  She could walk in them without effort.  She moved with a sway in her stride, as though those shoes had given her a much-needed boost of confidence.

We bought the shoes.  We painted her toenails black, to match her black fingernails, and off she went to her dinner and dance.  The shoes worked our perfectly and I have no doubt they are “keepers.”  How wonderful, that the right pair of shoes can make a gal feel super special.  I hope all of us have shoes in our closets that make us feel that way.

Do you have a favorite pair of shoes?  Are they practical flats or designer heels?

The young woman who plays Katniss is a twenty-one year-old, Oscar-nominated actress named Jennifer Lawrence. Today while I was procrastinating, I watched a David Letterman interview with Jennifer Lawrence. I–unfairly–expected the actress to have the same self-possessed confidence that she portrayed in the movie. She … um … didn’t. In fact, Jennifer Lawrence acted like a big ol’ dork. I’m using the term dork with affection and kindness here. She was just goofy. Yeah, charming and funny, but definitely goofy. At one point in the interview, she admitted that in situations like this, she gets all nervous and jittery, like a Chihuahua, and she’s always afraid she’ll pee all over the red carpet. “Yes!” I thought as I watched her. “That’s exactly who she reminds me of! My aunt’s long-haired Chihuahua.” I mean, seriously, her hair was even the right color. In short, Jennifer Lawrence does not come across as the kick-ass heroine she plays in the movies.

I apologize if I sound over-critical. I don’t mean to. I was just so surprised. Though, arguably, it’s the mark of a really talented actress that she can disappear so completely inside a character. Josh Hutcherson–who play’s Katniss’s love interest Peeta in the movie–appeared in his interview exactly as he is in the movie (though, perhaps, just a tad more cocky).

The whole thing made me think of Kristen Bell and how different she always seems from the character of Veronica Mars. Veronica (from the fantastic, but short-lived show by that name–if you haven’t seen it, start now and thank me later!) was such a sassy, kick-ass, smart heroine. She and Katniss totally would have hung out, if their fictional worlds ever over-lapped. But in real interviews Kristen seems like something of a flibbetergibbet. (Click here to watch her melt down over a sloth … seriously!) Again, no insult intended — just surprise.

All of my interview-watching procrastination got me thinking about how others might perceive me and my public persona (ie. my work). On one hand, I’ve written over ten books for Harlequin Desire. My books are known for their babies and their billionaires. But my December 2012 release, The Farm, is a post-apocolyptic YA about vampires farming teenagers for food. I worked on The Farm for three years before it sold. In many ways, it’s the book of my heart. But when I describe it to people familiar with my Desires, they are always shocked. “Where are all the babies and billionaires?” they ask. I answer honestly. “They were eaten by the deadly swarm of monsters.”

Also, I think when people first meet me, I come off as very serious and a little intense. More than one person has described me as “no-nonsense.” Yet, once you get to know me, I’m actually pretty silly. On the inside, I’m all nonsense.

How can I be both? And how can Jennifer Lawrence be both a warrior and dork? How can Kristen Bell be both a sassy, girl-detective and a flibbetergibbet?  Are we all just crazy, or is this just human nature? I like to think it’s human nature.

Do you think other people perceive you exactly as you are? Or are you a chameleon too?

 Kristan:

My mom is always there to cheer me on. She always seems a little surprised at whatever I do… “You’re such a good mother!” or “Did you really make that pie?” or “This book was so good!” It’s quite cute. Add to that, she loves to laugh. Happy Mother’s Day, dear Mom! Love from your 5′ 8″ preemie, Kristan

Elise:

Mothers’ Day is kind of bittersweet for me because my mother died in April 2010 when she was 49 years old. My oldest daughter was 10 months at the time, and already through my pregnancy and the first few months of my daughter’s life, I had asked for so much advice and shared so many moments with my mother, and I wish that I could share all the moments as she and my youngest daughter grow up. My mother was my best friend (well, after I moved out of the house and though we lived in separate states we would talk to each other on the phone for an hour or more several times a week. I know my mother wasn’t perfect; she was a little too obsessed with cleaning, in my opinion. =) I’ll never forget when she came to my house to get ready for my oldest daughter’s delivery and decided to clean my entire house while we waited. I got a scolding because it wasn’t enough to just remove the lint from the lint catcher in the dryer; you had to take the lint catcher out and dig deep into the crevices to get the lint there, too. I never knew that before, but now you can bet that I do that every time. =) Yet although she wasn’t perfect, she was very close to being the perfect mother. She was always supportive, even when she didn’t understand or didn’t necessarily agree. She was very cautious about not giving advice where it might be unwanted, and she was always there to listen, even if nothing I had to say was the least bit interesting. And when she was in the wrong, she apologized. It might have taken her a little time, but she always did, and I respected her for that. She loved so much, and every day when I look at my daughters I wish that they could grow up knowing her and the love she would have had for them. The picture is of me and my mother the day before my wedding, after she had taken care of all the decorations. I was 19 and she was 42. Happy Mothers’ Day, Mama. I love you.

Catherine:

I never realized what a complex job motherhood was until I became a mom myself, more than sixteen years ago.  My daughter is and has always been an angel, but being a mom is a huge responsibility.  One of the things, though, that I’ve always kept in mind while raising my daughter is how my mother was always there for me, whether she was soothing cuts and scrapes, buying me craft supplies for elementary school projects, hugging me after breakups with boyfriends, or encouraging me to challenge myself creatively and academically.  Thanks to her, I had a strong role model to follow when raising my daughter.  I hope my daughter feels as special and loved as my mom made me feel.  Thanks, Mom!

Margo:

My mom was easy to admire. Her name was Justine McCarthy and she grew up during the depression, graduating from college in the midst of World War II. After joining the Red Cross in 1943, she was sent to Europe – not into battle, but definitely into the thick of things – in England, Italy, Germany. When the war effort wound down, Mom came home and became a teacher, married my dad and raised five kids. She was the most indomitable woman I’ve ever known, fearless and independent. Lovely and loving.

Shana:

I don’t think I ever appreciated my mother fully until I had a child of my own. I never realized how hard it is to care for an infant and how much a mom sacrifices. Watching my mom interact with my daughter is special as well. They have their own unique relationship, and it reminds me so much of our relationship when I was a child. I’m so fortunate to have had such a loving, wonderful mother, and now we’re lucky she’s a fabulous grandma!

Katherine:

Being a mother is the greatest joy I’ve found in my life.  It is sometimes frustrating and challenging but I love my kids and every day with them just makes me love them more.  And it also makes me love my mother more.  My mom is happiest when she is with her family.  Nothing makes her happier than having all her daughters home and all her grandkids.  And I have learned from her that the joy in family is the most pure.  Its the one place where I laugh hardest and just find the most peace.

I’m the oldest of three girls and grew up hearing that I look just like my mother.  As a girl I wanted to be my own person but I love that she and I do look the same and was pleased when my own daughter looked like us too.  My mom put her children first and still does spending most of her time traveling between all of her daughters’ homes to visit with them.

I just wanted to take the time today to say thank you to my mom for being the best!!!

Robyn:

My mom is the best. Seriously. I would arm wrestle any of you to prove it too. We’ve always been close, and she’s always been there for me, but this past year while I was learning how to be a mom myself, she was invaluable. When The Professor and I moved back to Texas a few years ago, we decided to build a home, so while we were building we lived upstairs in my parents house. For nine months. That’s a trial on anyone’s relationship with their parents. But we survived. And then once our house was built, my parents loved ours so much and the neighborhood, they bot a lot right around the corner (3 houses away) and built their retirement home, smaller, brand-spanking new and totally delightful. The Professor likes to tell people he lives in Everybody Loves Raymond. But let me tell you, having grandparents that close, in those early days it was a necessity for my sanity. So we see each other everyday unless someone is out of town. We cook together sometimes or cook for the other’s family. But you know the coolest thing about my mom is that she’s the very reason I’m a writer. You see, she’s a writer too. Though she’s not published yet, she’s working diligently at it and someday you will all be able to read her books too. I love being able to share writing with my mom, it’s a magical connection we have and it makes me hope, just a little bit, that maybe one of my daughters will grow up to be a writer too.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

Janette:

Cindy:

Like Jan, my mother has passed away.  Though it’s been a long time, the love I felt for her has not diminished.  Whenever I think back on the closeness we shared, I’m grateful.  And it makes me want to urge everyone who still has a mother –or really anyone who means something to them–to not take that person for granted.  Spend time with those who you love, tell them often how much they mean to you and build those happy memories now, while you still can.

Emily:

I think most of the other JQ’s are writing about their own moms, but I’m going to depart from the norm and talk about my mother-in-law. We lost her this year to pancreatic cancer. It’s funny, because when she was alive and healthy, I never felt particularly close to her. She grew up on a hard-scrabble farm in west Texas, during the dust bowl in the fifties. She was tough and strong and made the best chicken and dumplings I’ve ever eaten. She was the kind of woman who could do anything she put her mind to, and could usually do it better than anyone else. In the twenty-one years I knew her, I saw her show kindness, strength and compassion, but it wasn’t until she was diagnosed that I saw her vulnerability. It was only then that I felt like I really understood her as a mother and as a person. Like so many mothers, she was strong and indomitable not by choice, but by necessity. Now that she is gone, I find myself wanting to be a better wife and mother, partly because I better understand how quickly time passes and partly to honor her, because they were her family, too.

Nancy:  I’m not going to lie, Mother’s Day is bittersweet for me.   My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 19. She passed away when I was 23. The anniversary of her death is May 13… today.  May hits me like a double whammy since it contains both the day I lost my mom and the day our nation collectively celebrates mothers.

While my mom and I were close, we never had the opportunity to experience the lovely, mature relationship that mothers and daughters grow into later in life. Again, not gonna lie, sometimes I feel a little cheated.

However, when I start feeling sorry for myself, I clearly hear my mom telling me to count my blessings.  Because I  have been blessed in so many wonderful ways. One of my greatest joys is my own daughter.  I could wax prosaic and corny about how I adore that child. She is my sunshine, my world, the only perfect work of art I will ever create. See? I warned you…  Unlike my daughter, I was a “challenging” teenager; a handful.  There were many times my mom would hold my gaze and say, “Someday, I hope you have a daughter just like you.”  That would take me down a peg or two, and I would ask, “Is that a curse or a blessing?” She would just smile and shrug.

Time finally revealed that my daughter is indeed a blessing.  If my mom somehow had a hand in the temperament of my child, she would’ve only given me a “blessing.” There would’ve been no hesitation on her part, no matter how many times I smarted off to her when I was growing up. I could just hear her saying, “Give her the kind of kid she should’ve been.” Of course, she would’ve smiled her sweet smile when she said it. My mom led by example and love, especially when she had to be firm with me.

Since there are no do-over’s after death closes the door, the only way I can make up for those teenage years is to live my adult life in a way that would make her proud.  When I face a challenge, I ask, “What would Mom do?” The answer always sets me straight.  Happy Mother’s Day, everyone! Count your blessings and celebrate your mamas.

Please tells us about your mom or about being a mother.