Goals are important to us. We make resolutions, hire life coaches, jot plans in planners and on calendars. Most of us set goals and want to achieve them.

I’ve had many goals throughout my life, some small and some big. I’ve wanted to run certain distances in certain times, win various awards, see people and places and things. If a goal I set is within my power, I usually accomplish it.

But lately I find myself having to revise my goals. Some of you know I have a new daughter. She’s five months old, and she doesn’t care if I write 10 pages a day or 25 a week or even if I get to go to the bathroom. She just wants to eat and play and nap (sometimes) and you wouldn’t believe how much time all of that takes or how exhausting it is.

Or maybe you already knew that and now you’re smiling indulgently at me.

But I’m not altogether clueless. I’ve tried to adjust. I’ve tried to make more reasonable goals, goals I don’t have to kill myself to accomplish. But there are still some days when even a little goal like writing 2 pages just isn’t going to happen. I try and try and at some point I have to let it go and hope for a better day tomorrow.

So what then? My first reaction is depression. I feel like a failure. I didn’t accomplish ANYTHING I wanted. But that’s not really true, is it? I played with my daughter, spent time with my husband, paid the men who cut down the tree about to fall on the garage (but that’s another blog). But these don’t seem to matter if my to-do list is still sitting there with so many things unchecked.

So I guess I’m appealing to you, dear readers. Maybe some of you are Type As like me and can give me some hints on how to deal. Or maybe you know how I really can become Superwoman….

For the second month in a row all six of the Silhouette Desire titles are on the USAToday Best-seller list! That is fabulous and I’m not surprised because these types of books are my favorite kind of fiction. They are full of glamor, glitz, strong alpha-heroes and of course gossip and scandal!

What about you? What’s your favorite kind of romance? I’ll send a copy of my upcoming Desire release Master of Fortune to one lucky blog participant!

Katherine

Tonya Kappes!
Drop me a line… margo@margomaguire.com and I’ll get your contact info. Congratulations!

If it’s February, I must be traveling again! I just checked and yes, it is, and yes, I am!

I avoided a huge Nor’easter in my area by traveling to Columbus Ohio for my other job. No, not the glamorous romance author gig and no, not the mild-mannered dental hygienist, but that of the dental licensing board examiner. Even as the dark clouds gathered and the low pressure began to swirl over North Carolina, I joined the team of examiners at Ohio State University where we braved 3 inches of snow to administer the boards to waiting dental students.  Meanwhile, back at home,  24 or so inches of snow blanketed my house and family in southern NJ!

BUT, the best part for someone like me who LOVES snowstorms, is that another storm followed just 5 days later and dumped another 12 inches on my home and area…. leaving it looking like a winter wonderland…..again! I finally got the chance to walk around the neighborhood with my hubby in the serene quiet as the flakes filled the night air.  There were not too many people outside but it was beautiful…. and it was DEEP!!

As I said, February is traveling time and with the snow barely plowed off the main roads the next day, I headed for New York City for another series of dental exams, this time at NYU. The train ride was smooth, got a taxi without delay and was lucky enough to stay at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, in a manner to which I’d love to be accustomed! LOL!  Gosh – it’s a different world there!

I’ve stayed in the same area during my last several trips so this country mouse is beginning to know her way around part of the very-big city and I walked out to dinner at a nice little Italian restaurant on 42nd Street, met my new Kensington editor for lunch and even took in a Broadway show (ROCK OF AGES with American Idol’s Constantine in the lead role)!  It was cold, but clear and bright as I walked the city blocks, dodging taxis, watching people and the sights, and enjoying the place that is NYC. Here are a few photos from my visit there:

The New York Public Library

Times Square!

Madison Square Garden

And after a wonderful, exhausting weekend in NYC, I returned home to face another possible snowfall. Luckily, or not depending on how you feel about more snow when there’s about 3 feet of it on your front lawn, that one passed with barely another coating.  But, I’m home for a few weeks now and there’s another Nor’Easter threatening early next week….this time I’ll just hunker down and try to catch up on a bunch of things still left undone…like filling out my 2010 kitchen-wall calendar…and writing, too.

Terri just received some copies of the April release, PLEASURABLY UNDONE!, which features her previously-released in digital format short story, “A Night For Her Pleasure”. To win one of two copies, let Terri know whether you’ve visited New York City or not and your favorite spot there (building? restaurant? theater? place?) or the one you’d most like to see. Post a comment and she’ll pick two winners! And visit her website at www.terribrisbin.com for more info about Terri and her books!

PS — I highly recommend seeing ROCK OF AGES if you get the chance….and especially if you like (and remember) the 80s….music, clothes, drinks! It was bright and funny and had some wonderfully-talented performers. Constantine was fun to watch and, wow, he is great on stage!

I recently came across an article with the following list. When you finish reading, I would love to see what you would add to this list. I’ll pick one comment and send the winner a copy of my last book, Taken by the Laird. Here goes . . .

1. A black eye. Unless the rim hits your face mid-dunk, your peepers should remain unblemished. You’re smart enough to talk your way out of any fight you’re going to lose.

2. A witty e-mail signature. Quotes and song lyrics should be heard during toasts and karaoke performances, respectively. Don’t let your electronic correspondence become the digital version of a motivational poster.

3. An empty refrigerator. Your larder should be amply stocked, your pantry provisioned. Always aim to be ready to create an on-the-fly, three-course dinner for her…along with breakfast in bed.

4. PlayStation thumb. When they’re relaxing, grown men can behave like children. But if you devolve long enough to cause calluses or button-shaped bruises, you’re assuredly missing out on life.

5. A key chain with a bottle opener. This bauble is both a gauche reminder of your college days and proof that you don’t know how to apply leverage using available, impromptu bottle openers: a lighter, the back end of a fork.

6. A lucky shirt. Every shirt is lucky when worn by a man who knows that the harder he works the luckier he’ll be.

7. An unstamped passport.

8. Olympic dreams. Exceptions: curling and archery.

9. Less than $20 in his wallet. Fiduciary nudity is negligence. A real man should always carry a business card and enough dough to pick up coffee, bagels, and the Sunday paper without whipping out the plastic.

10. A name for his penis. Even if it’s a really clever name.

11. Any beer that costs less than $20 a case. And no exception for the grand-slam 30-pack that crosses that price threshold.

12. The need to quote The Big Lebowski/ Caddyshack/Superbad. Reciting someone else’s lines reminds people that you haven’t the wit to write your own.

13. A futon. Sure, beds are for sleeping. But such a meager, slouchy spread has never, in the history of sex, inspired a woman to say, “Take me on your futon.”

14. Code words for ugly women. Actually, code words for anything.

15. A Nerf hoop in his living room. Keep the adolescent accoutrements where they belong: in the rec room or above the wastebasket in someone else’s office.

16. A secret handshake.

17. Drinking glasses with logos. Especially those kitschy McDonald’s Hamburglar ones.

18. A recent story with the phrase “So I said to the cop…”

I have a dear friend who was recently complaining that her husband has never planned a date for them. “Of course he hasn’t,” I answered. “He’s a guy.”
“But he should,” she insisted.
“But he won’t,” I informed her. “He’s a guy. They don’t do that once they’re married.”

It got me to thinking about the many differences between men and women. In the case of my happy marriage, it’s true — I tell McIrish what we’re doing socially, and he’s more than happy to come along. It’s very rare that he takes the initiative and plans a date, and I accept this. (Catherine Kean, enough out of you! We know your husband is the exception to this rule!)

So what else? How else are men and women intrinsically different?

Boo-boos. McIrish is a firefighter, uses power tools all the time, chops wood with an axe (for fun). He gets cut all the time. He figures if a digit is still attached and more or less straight, he’ll be fine. Me? I don’t cut myself that often, as all the sharp edges of my computer have been filed down. The other day, I sliced my finger on the food processor blade and was shrieking for stitches before the blood even appeared.

Bed-making. I can, he can’t. He can build a house, mind you, and fix a car, and rescue a drowning victim, but he cannot make the bed to save his life. I mean, he is really incapable of this, no matter how long he tries.

Potential explosions. I try to avoid potential explosions. For example, we have a wood furnace. The instructions say to open the vent and wait 10 seconds before opening the door. I obey this instruction with religious fervor. My husband…nah. “Oh, they just say that. You don’t really need to.” When I point out the children and I live in the house and should an explosion occur, we’d be scattered for miles, his answer is “Has the furnace exploded? Has it, honey? Huh?”

Colds. I can tolerate a cold just fine. McIrish is in a perpetual state of disbelief that such a cruel and unfair fate should befall him. I throw a box of tissues at his head and tell him to get over it.

Showers. Me: Shampoo and condition (leaving on for 2 minutes, of course), exfoliate with specialy scrunchy and lovely scented soap, wash face carefully with youthifying magic potion, shave legs (twice, in case I miss a spot), then rinse entire self thoroughly, pat dry and apply scented moisturizing oil, then trot to the medicine cabinet for the application my three facial moisturizers (age defying; skin guardian; eye doctor). McIrish stands in the shower for a  few minutes, turns off the water, then shakes, dog-like. The end.

Falling asleep. For me, it’s a complicated system of sleep button on the clock radio, perfect temperatures, pillow plumping and, hopefully, a story. For McIrish, being horizontal = unconsciousness.

Cooking. Me: recipe, grocery store, planning. Him: “How old do you think this anchovy paste is? Still good? Sniff it and tell me.”

Television: Me: I enjoy watching a show from beginning to end. Him: Clicks to a different channel every 15 seconds until I wrestle the remote away from him.

Popcorn. McIrish and I both love popcorn. I eat it as follows: take one or two kernels, put them in my mouth, chew, swallow. McIrish: Plunge hand into bucket, withdraw fistful of popcorn, shovel into mouth, swallow, repeat.

Men.

So which differences strike you the most? What would you change about typical male or female behavior if you could?

Michelle has picked two winners from Friday’s commenters.  Emmanuele wins the free download of An Accidental Seduction, and eap is the winner of a signed copy of  The Accidental Countess.  Congratulations to both!  Please send your mailing addresses to michelle @ michellewillingham.com (without the spaces of course.)

Thanks Michelle for guest blogging with us.

As some of you know, I’ve been fighting bronchitis and a sinus infection for almost two weeks. I’ve continued to work and I’ve discovered something…it seems like everyone I interact with has this crud or knows someone who has it.

In my day job I talk to a lot of people on the phone. When they hear my voice (which doesn’t sound normal–this makes sense to me since I don’t sound normal. My one ear is plugged and I feel like I’m talking into a tunnel)…they always make some comment..or they sound funky so I make some comment. Before you know it we’re talking about everything from the high price of antibiotics to doctors.

This reminds me of other times in our life that we have an instant bond with people. Like when you’re dating–people want to exchange dating horror stories, When you’re engaged, they want to talk about wedding plans and wedding horror stories. Then when you’re pregnant… well, you get the picture.

I’d be interested in knowing what kind of stories you’ve been exchanging recently with the people in your life. If not, I could tell you about my $75 copay on my second antibiotic (only ten pills)

All my life, I’ve loved cooking. My mother taught me to bake when I was a little girl, and I grew up experimenting with recipes– sometimes with success, and other times with disastrous results. Part of my joy in cooking was because I felt like I was serving up a dish of love to my family and friends. Seeing their enjoyment of luscious chocolate, hearty fruit pies, and sweet frosting, gave me a sense of accomplishment. (We won’t talk about the burned cookies or the banana bread experiment when I forgot the baking soda).

I’d always wanted to write a romance novel where the heroine adored cooking, because love and food, for me, are intertwined. It was more challenging in the era I selected, because ladies of the nobility in the Victorian era did not cook for the household. They hired servants to prepare and serve the food. The only way my heroine could do her own cooking was to make her completely destitute. And thus, the Cinderella figure of Emily Barrow was born.

I used two resources to inspire Emily’s recipes. One, the Boston Cooking School Cook Book by Mrs. D.A. Lincoln, gave me insights as to the types of recipes that might have been present in Victorian London. Though the cook book was a reprint of the 1884 edition, I chose recipes that could have been used 30 years earlier. The second resource was Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management (http://www.mrsbeeton.com/), originally published in 1861. Both provided fun details about the household and cooking tips such as “a cook’s first duty should be to set her dough for the breakfast rolls, provided this has not been done on the previous night.” The cook must then “after having lighted her kitchen fire, carefully brushed the range, and cleaned the hearth, proceed to prepare for breakfast. She will thoroughly rinse the kettle, and, filling it with fresh water, will put it on the fire to boil. She will then go to the breakfast-room, or parlour, and there make all things ready for the breakfast of the family.”

I’ll confess that, although I love baking, more often than not my weekends begin with a toddler prying my eyelids open at 6:30 in the morning, demanding, “Mommy, food? Mommy, Cheerios?” The child is lucky if I pop open a can of store-bought cinnamon rolls. Getting up to knead homemade bread dough? Not happening. I tend to do more of my own cooking later in the afternoon or when I get a craving for something sweet. But if I had a scullery maid who wanted to get up at the crack of dawn and make the family breakfast? I would be all over that.

My Victorian series begins when Emily Barrow elopes with the Earl of Whitmore after he rescues her from intense poverty in the novella “An Accidental Seduction.” Their story continues in my February book The Accidental Countess where Emily learns that being a Countess isn’t as easy as it looks. To make matters worse, her husband was the victim of a violent accident and doesn’t remember anything about their marriage. Frustrated and worried about her future, Emily finds sanctuary in her cooking, which scandalizes the family butler.

But despite being an unsuitable Countess, Emily fights to win back the love of her husband. And along the way, I found some perfect recipes to go along with the story. They’re included at the beginning of several chapters, and my favorite recipe is one for Molasses Cookies. The recipe can be found on my website at http://www.michellewillingham.com/books/the-accidental-countess/recipes/molasses-cookies . Originally, I modified the recipe because I thought it had few enough ingredients that my heroine might be able to make them for the Earl. But in the end, it became one of my favorite family recipes! I now make it every year at Christmas, because the basic recipe has enough ginger that it strongly resembles a delicious gingerbread cookie.

Today I’d like to celebrate historic recipes by giving away a signed copy of The Accidental Countess and a free download of “An Accidental Seduction” to two lucky winners. Just tell me the name of one of your favorite family recipes. Is there a recipe that’s been passed down over the generations in your family? Tell us about it!

Michelle Willingham is the author of eight novels for Harlequin Historical and three novellas with Harlequin Historical Undone. When she’s not reading, avoiding exercise, or chasing after her three children, she enjoys baking any and all products made with sugar. Look for her next book in the Accidental Series, The Accidental Princess, coming in March 2010. For more information about her books, visit her website at: www.michellewillingham.com .

Benecio del Torro as the Wolfman

I’ve come to realize that I’m. . . unusual. The benefit of getting older is the increased ability to let your freak flag fly and be proud of it. So, while other women are gleefully unwrapping jewelry I won’t feel weird for not liking diamonds (though I do like semi-precious stones!). I won’t feel odd for not wanting to go out to a fancy restaurant with wine and candlelight.

All I want this Valentine’s Day is take out — or perhaps some Vietnamese food — and to see The Wolfman. Friends, I am practically dancing I’m so excited about this freaking film. So I’m hoping that a couple of hours out of my Valentine weekend will be spent with this handsome fellow to the left. The rest will no doubt be spent simply hanging out with my wonderful hubby. We do exchange gifts, but nothing too expensive — usually something we know the other one will really enjoy. And usually he gets me flowers because he’s sweet like that.

I still have the first Valentine card he ever gave me. It’s packed away somewhere or I’d scan and share it with you all. The gist of it was my then 24 year-old boyfriend superimposed his own head onto the half-naked dude in the card. The dude was black and white. Steve’s head was a color ID photo taken when he was 19 and grinning like an idiot.  I think that was the day I decided I *had* to marry him. I bought him a Superman T-shirt that he still has and still fits (I do hate him for having stayed fairly slim – lol). He bought me a poster of Waterhouse’s La Belle Dame Sans Merci. Yes, I still have it.

I’ve realized that Steve and I don’t celebrate V-Day in a traditional manner, but we still celebrate in ways that mean something to us.  So, we’ll go see the Wolfman and Steve will hold my hand and laugh when I jump at scary parts. I’ll share my popcorn and afterward maybe we’ll grab some grub somewhere and yak about the movie and repeat our favorite lines. We’ll laugh and have some fun and just enjoy being with one another because in addition to being my husband, he’s my best friend — poor thing.

So that’s what Valentine’s Day means to me; Hanging out with the guy who has been my favorite Valentine since that first V-Day 14 years ago. Maybe he’ll wear his Superman T-shirt.  Nothing traditional, but it works for us.

What are your plans for V-Day? Do you and your significant other have any rituals?