Teresa's Book Reviews: Marley and Me

The one moral to this story is that you should always listen to Connie Brockway. (As much as it pains me to admit it!) She warned me that if I read this book, I would be crying for WEEKS. Then my Uncle Buddy, a 6' 2" bastion of male machismo confessed that he had bawled like a baby when reading the end of the book. But I thought, "Hey, I watch ER every week! I'm tough! I can handle this!"

So I picked up the book and started crying during the PREFACE. Okay, I'm lying, I actually started sniveling when I was looking at the puppy pictures of Marley on the inside front cover. Perhaps Kevin Bacon said it best in MY DOG SKIP--"A dog is just a heartbreak waiting to happen." Until they invent dogs with the 90-year life spans of parrots, we all know there can be only one ending to a great dog story. And MARLEY AND ME is truly a great dog story.

But MARLEY AND ME won't just make you cry. It will make you smile and it will make you laugh out loud and it will make you wonder why you didn't think to write a book about your ill-behaved monster of a dog so you could warm the cockles of America and make a bazillion dollars. It will also make you remember all of those fine dogs who have blessed your own life through the years. Those with spirits so sweet they seemed almost human and those who ate your throw rugs, swallowed your diamond necklace, and dragged your Tampax out of the garbage for the neighbors to see.

MARLEY AND ME is more than a story about a dog. It's a story about the young marriage of John and Jenny and the changes they go through as they add not only Marley, but three precious children to their lives. John Grogan is a columnist and former editor of Rodale's ORGANIC GARDENING magazine. His prose is fine and spare and made me reluctant to put the book down. I read it in two lazy Saturday and Sunday afternoons and yes, I read the ending with a box of Kleenex sitting on my chest and Connie's number on my speed dial.

The true moral of Marley's story is that there is something fine and beautiful about loving something (and someone) who is imperfect. That perhaps more joy and delight can be found in embracing someone's flaws than in trying to "fix" them. And if nothing else, reading about Marley--a dog who was diagnosed as certifiably insane even by doggie standards--may make you appreciate your own dog (or especially your cat!) even more.

Can You Tell Which One is Teresa?

Okay, I know some of you were a trifle bit skeptical when I admitted that I had a giant pink pig who helped me block out my love scenes so I thought it was time to introduce you to Petunia.

Petunia once belonged to my roommate in nursing school. She was getting ready to take a one way trip to the city dump when--unable to bear the thought of her rooting through the garbage with her delicate little snout--I intervened. (Look at that face! Could YOU have let her go to the dump?) Despite my husband's insistence that she's old enough to manage on her own, she still lives in the bonus room over our garage.

She used to earn her keep by tussling with my nieces and nephews when they were little, but now I call upon her for a much more important duty. If I'm writing a scene where my hero and heroine are facing each other, about to embrace, I use her to figure out exactly where his snout...um...I mean his nose...and his (paw? hoof?) would be. We also share the occasional waltz.

You'll notice that Petunia looks better than I do in this pic because she freshened up her mascara and I didn't. She never could resist a photo op!

Kiefer Sutherland: From Bad Boy to Good Man in Only 24 Hours

What can I say? I never could resist a man who can make a kill shot to the head with 100% accuracy. I came late to 24. Last year my minister's wife loaned me the entire first season on DVD and insisted that I watch it. Still feeling the keen absence of former favorites like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Farscape, I slipped the first disc into my DVD player and immediately found myself immersed in the dark and dangerous world of CTU (Counter-Terrorist Unit) and its resident knight in tarnished armor Jack Bauer. After only a few addictive episodes, I also made an alarming discovery—I was hot for Kiefer!


That's right. The same baby-faced, sandy-haired Kiefer I had always scorned for taking men's roles like Doc Spurlock in Young Guns and Athos in The Three Musketeers and turning them into boys. His chilling turns as villains in several movies hadn't really endeared him to me either. But as I watched one episode after another of 24, his beard-stubbled cheeks and that tender petulant mouth of his began to look imminently more kissable. A scene from last week's episode where he was forced to interrogate the woman he loves, then took a taser blast to try to protect her because he believed she was innocent nearly made me swoon in the best romance novel tradition!

Quite simply, Jack Bauer is a man who does what needs to be done, however brutal, to get the job done. The cavewoman in me who still secretly longs for a man to protect me, feed me, and give me strong children responds to this on the most primal level. But the lovely thing about Jack is that he also maintains enough heart and humanity to resist a direct order from the president if that order will result in the death of innocent women and children. In the course of the last five seasons, he's risen above incalculable personal losses with unimaginable grace.

24 delivers a walloping dollop of edge-of-your-couch-cushion suspense but story never overshadows characterization and emotion. To me, that's what separates a Lord of the Rings from the latest sterile and heartless installment of Star Wars.

In our books, we constantly deal with flawed, complex men who are transformed into heroes. Jack Bauer is such a hero--constantly challenging himself, constantly evolving and always able to make the kill shot. He can interrogate me any day!

Teresa's Book Reviews: Rebel Angels

Do you ever feel as if you were destined to read a certain book? I originally spotted Libba Bray's first book A GREAT AND TERRIBLE BEAUTY on the "New in Hardcover" shelf at my local Borders. I immediately thought, "What a gorgeous romance cover!" I thumbed through the book only to discover that it wasn't a romance at all but a Victorian historical set at an English girl's boarding school. Although I was intrigued, I put the book back on the shelf.

Then at the Dallas RWA conference a few weeks later, I was signing books with fellow Avon author Cathy Maxwell when she started telling me about this amazing YA (Young Adult) book she'd just read. "You have to read it," she told me. "It's like Harry Potter for girls!" Swayed by her enthusiasm, I followed her to the YA section of the bookstore only to discover she was talking about the very book I'd spotted at Borders. I had no idea it was even being marketed as Young Adult fiction!

Not one to resist the seductive kiss of fate twice, I came home with a shiny new hardcover in my suitcase. And boy am I glad I did! A GREAT AND TERRIBLE BEAUTY is a wonderful balm for the soul of the reader who is always lamenting, "There's nothing fresh out there to read!" It's a deliciously dark Gothic Victorian historical paranormal with a tasty sprinkling of romance. Think of it as THE SECRET GARDEN and A LITTLE PRINCESS on acid.

The book opens in India in 1895 when 16-year-old Gemma Doyle witnesses the tragic and mysterious death of her mother. Her opium-addicted father quickly packs her off to Spence, one of those oh-so-proper British boarding schools that are secretly seething with all of the passion, drama and intrigue that only adolescent girls can create. The headstrong Gemma is quickly befriended by shy, impoverished Ann, ambitious Felicity, and beautiful Pippa, whose desire for a handsome prince to spirit her away risks leading them all to disaster. Gemma also discovers that she is the sole key to opening a magical alternate universe called "The Realms" and that her fate is inextricably entwined with her mother's. The only thing the book lacks is a handsome, sexy, mysterious Gypsy lad who could turn out to be either Gemma's protector or her mortal enemy. Oh, wait—the book has that too!

I'm delighted to report that the second book in the series, REBEL ANGELS, is just as good if not even better than the first book. In ANGELS, Bray moves the action to the city for the Christmas holiday. Her writing is gorgeous and crisp and she brings Victorian London to such vivid life that I could almost smell the soot in the air and feel the warm glow of the gaslights on my skin.

I read somewhere that the corset on the cover of the first book was meant to symbolize the repression of women and young girls in the Victorian Era. Gemma is a very strong character—smart, headstrong, passionate—and you sense that her adventures, however fantastical and dangerous, may eventually lead her to the intellectual and spiritual freedom that all women crave.

If you've ever wondered how the world would be different if J.K. Rowling had penned HARRIET POTTER AND THE SORCERER'S STONE, I definitely recommend these books. I would have loved them when I was fourteen and I love them now! Since A GREAT AND TERRIBLE BEAUTY hit the New York Times bestseller list--an amazing feat for a first novel--I must not be the only one. The books are written in first person and present tense, which only adds to the immediacy of the story. Ms. Bray is planning one more book in this series.

I'm thrilled that Libba has agreed to pop in with her own blog later today! We're also going to be giving away a set of both hardcovers to one of our lucky random Commenters. (You're eligible no matter which of today's blogs you Comment under.)

Teresa Shares Her Secret to Success

I've always believed one of the primary functions of a blog is to humiliate yourself publicly. I'm here to prove that today by sharing my very first query letter with you. For those of you not familiar with the lingo, a query letter is the letter you send to a publisher or agent asking them if they'd like to look at (and hopefully buy and publish) your book. As you will see, this is the worst query letter in the history of query letters--a veritable treasure trove of "Whatever you do, don't do this!" I'm including my editorial comments in red and in parentheses.

May 29, 1985

Dear (Editor Who is No Longer Employed By This Company),

I frantically searched my bookshelves one evening for the romance novel that I wanted to read. I didn't find it. (Because you and the other dimwits at your publishing house obviously aren't publishing anything worth reading.) Reading "The Flame and the Flower" (which was published 13 years ago, clearly demonstrating that I've kept up with current trends) for the fifth time reeked of redundancy (gotta love that alliteration! And look-I know big words!)

What did I want to read about? I wanted to read about a heroine with guts; a noble hero with fascinating flaws; a passionate love-hate relationship that grows with time; interesting sattelite (sattelite? Um, you wouldn't mean "secondary" by any chance?) characters; humor; enough tragedy to keep the good times looking good. (I also know how to use semi-colons, although not particularly well!) I wanted adventure and fantasy and intrigue.

And thus was born "Loving Vengeance." (Thank heavens it wasn't spawned!) I am submitting it to you for publication (or to use as a booster seat for your kid). It is a historical romance set in ancient Ireland. (Because that's a really popular setting!)

I look forward to hearing your reaction. (As opposed to shuddering.)

Sincerely,

T.H. Medeiros (because I'm incredibly pretentious and aspiring to be the next T.H. White)

I have shared this letter today not just to humiliate myself or to amuse you, but to give you hope. If an idiot like this can sell a book and get published and go on to have a successful career that has now spanned almost twenty years, so can you!

Teresa Celebrates Women in All Sizes and Guises

I don't know about you but these are two of my favorite sentences from a romance novel:

1) She was soft and yielding in all of the places he was hard.
2) He tenderly ran his hand over the gentle swell of her belly.

Now the latter would imply that our lovely heroine, paragon of feminine beauty that she is, actually HAS a belly. I'm a big believer in the scientific fact that women are genetically predisposed to store fat in certain areas of their bodies. (Especially in the winter when a package of Oreos may be all that stands between us and the horrors of famine.)

I also happen to know that men are genetically predisposed to look for good breeders. (That means hips large enough to pass a good-sized hobbit through the birth canal.) Before he asked me out, my future husband was busted by a fellow classmate for checking out the junk in my own proverbial trunk as I walked (strutted) across the room in front of him.

So why does society keep telling us we should aspire to look like this?

That's right. That's Teri Hatcher and Lara Flynn Boyle, just two of the Hollywood actresses who seem to be vanishing right before our eyes. Lara Flynn Boyle is so skinny she recently ended a guest stint on LAS VEGAS by (are you ready for this?) BLOWING OFF OF A ROOF!

The standard of female beauty in the Renaissance was typified by the Rubens painting above. But you only have to travel back to the 1960's and watch any James Bond film to see how our standards (and our actresses) have shrank in the past 40 years. The women in those movies were considered some of the most beautiful of their day. They looked glowing and healthy. They had thighs and (oh, miracle of miracles!) they even had bellies and they weren't afraid to show off their bellies in their snappy little bathing suits. They were much more likely to push someone off a roof than blow off a roof.

So how do we combat this ridiculous and unhealthy ideal? Can we just quote Sir Mix-A-Lot's BABY GOT BACK--"Cosmo says you're fat. Well, I ain't down with that!" Personally, I love the solution put forth by inspirational author Liz Curtis Higgs, who calls herself a "big, beautiful woman living in a nervous, narrow world." Liz suggests that we stand in front of the mirror every morning (with or without clothes), spread our arms wide and proclaim, "Blessed am I among women to live in such a beautiful temple!" That way, even if you feel you need to lose weight and get more fit, you can still love yourself while you're doing it.

One of my dear friends who has struggled to gain weight all of her life assures me that being too skinny is just as great a social problem as being too heavy. As she described to me the terrible ordeal of being forced to drink 3 chocolate milkshakes a day, I did the only thing I could.

I pushed her off the roof.

Teresa Sings, "Once More with Feeling"

I am a total soundtrack geek and the one soundtrack that rarely leaves my CD player is BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER: ONCE MORE WITH FEELING. When the legendary musical episode of BUFFY aired, we discovered that not only was Joss Whedon a literary genius who has given us some of the smartest TV ever, he was also capable of whipping up the music and lyrics of an entire Broadway show in his spare time. We also learned that James Marsters (as Spike--the leather-clad vampire I'd most like to sink my teeth into) could sing in an English accent.

Who needs Sarah Brightman when you can have Sarah Michelle Gellar? The soundtrack is actually more effective because Sarah Michelle Gellar doesn't attempt to trill any arias, but still sounds like Buffy when she sings. (It also makes it really easy to sing along in your car.) The songs range from winsome and wistful to laugh-out-loud witty and Whedon uses the music to advance the storyline by bringing several ongoing plots to their stunning climaxes. The songs are rife with revelations that make it clear that nothing will ever be the same.

In GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS, Buffy explores the loss of passion she's experienced since um...dying for the second time a few months before. In the standout number UNDER YOUR SPELL, Amber Benson as Tara, waxes poetic over her budding love for Willow. In I'LL NEVER TELL (which featured a terrific dance number in the episode), Xander and Anya experience the cold feet common to any young studly construction worker about to marry a former vengeance demon. In REST IN PEACE, the lovelorn Spike begs Buffy to just let him rest in peace if she won't confess her growing desire for him. During the appropriately titled WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE, the music swells and we sigh wistfully as we remember Spike and Buffy sharing their very first kiss in true Hollywood fashion before the credits rolled.

Because of the complexity of the continuing storylines, I don't know if this could ever be turned into a real Hollywood musical, but I sure would like to see Whedon try.

Teresa Picks Out Her Favorite Chick Flicks

I'm a chick, right? I'm supposed to love nothing better than dragging my significant other to the movies on a Friday night to see the latest "women's weeper" with a box of Goobers and a packet of Kleenex stuffed in my purse. So why do some of these movies make me want to weep for the wrong reason?

I only made two rules for this list—no Jane Austen adaptations and no animated Disney movies allowed because they could obviously hog up all the positive slots. Oh, and I attempted to alleviate all of that melodrama with a few comedies!

CHICK FLICKS I HATE

BEACHES – Despite my fondness for both Bette Midler and "Wind Beneath My Wings", at one point I actually found myself yelling at Barbara Hershey and her collagen-inflated lips. "Die! Please, won't you just die already!" Trust me—her endless suffering was NOTHING compared to mine.

THE NOTEBOOK – My parents have one of those eternal love stories just like the couple in this movie and my mom is in a nursing home. So maybe this one just stepped on the wrong toes for me. Although I thought Ryan Gosling was adorable, I just didn't feel any real sense of the two of them really falling in love. I felt like I was told they fell in love more than seeing the relationship building through action or witty banter.

GHOST – I'm probably stepping on some toes by picking this Patrick Swayze classic but I've always found Demi Moore to be so utterly humorless that I can't take her seriously. But she does cry divinely! No woman has ever looked so beautiful with tears trickling gracefully down her cheeks.

DIVINE SECRETS OF THE YA-YA SISTERHOOD – I liked Sandra Bullock just fine as always but I just didn't understand why her mother's character was supposed to be so high strung and annoying. They hinted at mental illness but never really followed through on it. She had a perfectly nice husband. Get over it, already!

MY BEST FRIEND'S WEDDING – What a depressing comedy! Julia Roberts is a selfish, obnoxious twit who doesn't even get the guy in the end!

CHICK FLICKS I LOVE

TERMS OF ENDEARMENT – I've always found this movie just quirky and weird enough to feel like real life. It really captures the complicated mother/daughter dynamic and it also has the best death scene I've ever watched. The camera never flinches and you can actually see the life fade from Debra Winger's eyes.

EVER AFTER – The prince is cute and Drew Barrymore rescues herself from the bad guy at the end. Enuf said!

BRIDGET JONES' DIARY – Rene Zellwegger channels this hilarious heroine beautifully. And Colin Firth and Hugh Grant in the same movie? What's not to love?

LOVE STORY – This is the original two hankie weeper. It has the most gorgeous music and the best looking dying person you'll ever find. I've never forgotten the scene where they frolic in the snow together or that dramatic moment when she simply announces, "It's time to go to the hospital." I spent months wishing I had a terminal disease after seeing this as a kid.

TRULY MADLY DEEPLY – They call this British movie the "thinking person's GHOST" and I absolutely agree. Alan Rickman is divine as "Jamie" and he makes even the bittersweet ending go down easy.

Teresa Gets Shot Through the Heart by Bon Jovi

If Jon Bon Jovi can please a woman half as well as he can please a crowd, we have another candidate for SEXIEST MAN ALIVE. I had the delicious pleasure of seeing Bon Jovi in concert on Valentine's Day and with all the surprises he and the band had in store for us, it felt more like Christmas morning.

First the lights began to dim and the crowd began to applaud and scream as they gazed at the darkened stage, their anticipation palpable. Suddenly a roar went up from the back of the arena. I turn to discover that Jon has magically appeared on a platform right in front of me, giving the poor devils in the cheap seats the thrill of their lives. (And an incredible view of his adorable backside.) During another section of the concert, he vanished again only to materialize right AMONG the seats on the other side of the arena where he performed a melting rendition of MY FUNNY VALENTINE before walking all the way back to the stage, grasping hands and making women swoon along the way.

And did I mention there was music, too? Music with infectious hooks, driving rock rhythms, and lyrics soulful and romantic enough to have been penned by a romance novelist. (You haven't lived until you've heard 20,000 people singing, "Shot through the heart and you're to blame, you give love a bad name!" in perfect unison.) The audience got another surprise thrill when Jennifer Nettles, the lead singer of Sugarland joined the band on stage to perform their rock/country crossover hit "Who Says You Can't Go Home." (One of the advantages to seeing a concert in Nashville is that you never know who will show up!) Oh yeah, and there were other band members too--Tico Torres, David Bryan, and Richie Sambora, recently estranged from Heather Locklear. When Richie and Jon shared the microphone to croon "I'll Be There For You" to each other, you just knew that Richie would survive losing Heather as long as he had Jon by his side.

Jon remains eerily ageless, even looking younger than he did in the big hair era of the 80's. (Vampire anyone?) When he looked over his shoulder, his lips slowly curving into that sexy and boyishly disarming grin, a collective sigh went up from the crowd and you just knew that every woman in the arena from 19-90 was aching to throw her panties on the stage. It somehow only adds to his appeal that he's been married for 17 years and has 4 kids.

Bon Jovi remains on the very short list of artists I'd pay $100 to see because they're master showmen who make sure you get every penny of your money's worth.

Teresa Flirts with Disaster

He leaned across the table toward me, his dark blue eyes sparkling with a come-hither look. With his bad boy grin and lightly tousled hair, I couldn't help but want to take him into my arms. He reached across the table, closing the space between us.

"You're SO pretty," he whispered, gently stroking my hair.

Before I could respond, his mom snatched him up into her arms and snapped, "Don't mind him. He's a terrible flirt and he just loves blondes."

I grinned as she carried the four-year-old across the crowded Pizza Hut. He hung over her shoulder, waving wistfully and still casting me longing glances. So it's true, I thought. Some men really are born flirts!

I once worked with just such a guy. Based on his numerous and well-documented affairs of the heart, you would have expected him to be a combination of George Clooney and Brad Pitt, with a little Keanu thrown in to spice the mix. Instead he was a stocky, rather ordinary looking fellow with a receding hairline, a slight paunch, and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. I just couldn't figure out what it was about him that made perfectly rational women abandon both their morals and their marriages.

Then during one slow night on the ward, he offered to teach me how to play Chinese checkers. Since he wasn't exactly inviting me up to his place to see his etchings, I decided I'd be safe.

That's when I learned his secret. He treated me with perfect respect. (I was HIS supervisor, after all). There wasn't even a hint of inappropriate innuendo, no casual touches or suggestive winks. BUT his focus on me was absolute. During those magic moments, it was as if I was the only woman—perhaps the only human being—on the entire planet.

Ah ha! That was it, I realized! That was how he convinced women to tug off both their panties and their wedding rings! (Not to worry. I was in no danger of doing either.) But I did feel as if I'd spent an hour in the company of a master flirt. He'd reminded me that women are absolute suckers for attention because let's face it—we deserve so much more of it than we ever get.

So the next time that cute guy at the theater concession stand gives you an extra squirt of butter on your popcorn or a handsome businessman offers to help you heft your luggage into the overhead bin, it's okay to feel warm and tingly. Just keep your panties—and your wedding ring—on until you get home!

Teresa's Shameful Little Secret

There is no greater thrill for an author than finishing a book. Publishing a book doesn't compare. Winning an award doesn't compare. Not even cashing a nice fat royalty check can compare. (Although my husband might disagree!) When I type those magical words THE END, choirs of angels burst into the Hallelulah Chorus and for a few magical days, food tastes better, music sounds sweeter and all is right with the world.

BUT that doesn't explain why only one day after I finished my latest book I found myself in a sobbing heap on the bed. Now I will confess that I was both physically and mentally exhausted. I hadn't had a day off in at least a month. I'd been waking up between 4 .m. and 5 a.m. every morning with my mind brimming over with fresh ideas for new scenes. Plus I knew I only had one day after finishing the book to pack and prepare for a writer's conference in Cocoa Beach. If I'd have been Lindsey Lohan or Mariah Carey, my "manager" would have probably carted me off to some nice hospital with a swimming pool and tennis courts and had me admitted for "exhaustion." Because after surviving an entire month of the most grueling sort of deadline and actually accomplishing what I set out to do, I finally cracked.

My poor husband walks in and says, "What's wrong, honey?" Blinded by tears, I gazed up at him through swollen eyes and wailed, "MY BOOK IS O-O-O-OVER! I MISS PORTIA AND J-J-J-JULIAN SO-O-O-O-O MUCH!!!" Now if I were my husband (or any of the other Squawkers) and had been forced to listen to me whine and complain nearly every day for the past 8 months about how desperate I was to finish this book, I would have carted me off to some nice hospital with time-out rooms and a healthy stock of Thorazine. I have to tell you that I had NO idea that shocking thought was lurking in my subconscious until I blurted it out, but it definitely backs up a theory I have about writing.

Books are hard to finish (nearly impossible!) because subconsciously writers don't want to finish them. Although consciously our most overwhelming desire is to be done with it, secretly we feel exactly like a reader feels when they say, "Oh, I didn't want that book to end! I wish it could have gone on forever!" With I finished the book, my life began anew, but the lives of my beloved characters ended.

Readers often ask me if I re-read my books after they're finished. And this is the precise reason I usually don't. When I'm writing a book, it's as if I'm actually living the story right along with my hero and heroine. I feel their every emotion, fall madly and passionately in love, and their memories become my own. If I try to re-read one of my stories, it's as if I'm looking at a photo of a high school sweetheart I'll never see again and it makes my heart ache.

But I've decided there's only one cure for the post-book blues--start another book! Then there will be other lives to live, more memories to make, and the chance to fall madly and passionately in love all over again.

Ten Signs Teresa Has Finished a Book

1) She's wearing her "I FINISHED A BOOK TODAY, WHAT DID YOU DO?" t-shirt even though it's February and 20 degrees outside

2) Her editor and agent burst into a spontaneous rendition of the "Hallelulah Chorus", accompanied by a choir of celestial angels

3) There's no more microwavable ravioli in the pantry

4) Her pants don't fit anymore and she can't figure out why although she has a fuzzy memory of eating cake directly out of the pan at 1 a.m. in the morning

5) There's a cat she doesn't recognize sitting on her bed looking at her

6) There's a man she doesn't recognize sitting on her bed looking at her (Oh, wait, that's her husband!)

7) Her bangs are down to her chin

8) She locks all of her keys in the trunk of her car and doesn't care, even though the trunk latch inside the car doesn't work either

9) Bright sunlight makes her scream, "My eyes! My eyes!"

10) She had time to write this blog

Teresa Sings, "A Kiss is Still a Kiss"

We've talked about a lot of firsts lately--the first time we found out the truth about Santa Claus, the first time we learned about the rather awkward mechanics of sex, our first date. So today I thought it would be fun to talk about our very first kiss.

I'll never forget mine. I was 14 and on my first official date. We were sitting in the bleachers at a junior high football game when he leaned toward me, his puppy dog brown eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Mine dutifully fluttered shut as his mouth descended on mine. My heart pounded, my toes began to curl and I was immediately swept away by the thought..."Ew! This is disgusting!"

People often ask how much of our fiction is drawn from real life and I have to admit that when I had Emily Claire describe her first kiss to the hero in ONCE AN ANGEL by saying, "The boy had a tongue like a worm," I was definitely strolling down memory lane. I hadn't been so repulsed since I first heard about the whole hot dog/bun theory of sex.

Fortunately for me, another date and a different boy taught me what all the fuss was about. I've never believed in indiscriminate sex but I was an indiscriminate kisser. Long before the days of SEX AND THE CITY, my best friend and I kept a log of all the boys we kissed along with ratings from 1-10. Near the top of mine at a solid 9 3/4 were the Rickard brothers--our local version of Bo and Luke Duke. Yes, I'm embarrassed to confess that I kissed both of them. (But not at the same time!) I truly hit my stride one New Year's Eve at sixteen when I kissed 5 boys. I was quite impressed by my tally until I found out my friend had kissed 10! (My list topped out at 25 while hers soared to 50. Not bad for a couple of "good girls" who always made the honor roll, eh? And I certainly hope this is serving as a cautionary tale for all of you with pre-tweens not to let your daughters date until they turn 16!)

Being no fool, I had the good sense to marry the first perfect 10 that I kissed. He was a little miffed when he found out about my list and our rating system, but I quickly reminded him of the only thing that mattered--His would be the last name on my list!

When Good Celebrities Have Bad Plastic Surgery

We all have our little guilty pleasures--never missing an episode of our favorite soap, keeping a bag of dark chocolate Hershey's Kisses stashed in our desk drawer, visiting www.awfulplasticsurgery.com at least once a week.
If you haven't visited this site before, it explains baffling mysteries of the universe such as:

Why is Melanie Griffith's formerly svelte upper lip now the size of a Michelin tire?
What are those Frankenstein-like scars Tara Reid reveals every time she "accidentally" flashes the paparazzi?

Why did Sandra Bullock's lovely face have no expression in TWO WEEK'S NOTICE?

And the most haunting question of all--Why does the formerly gorgeous Priscilla Presley now look like Jack Nicholson in BATMAN? Has she been visiting her former son-in-law Michael Jackson's plastic surgeon?

One quick visit to the site should be all it takes to convince you to grow old gracefully, preferably with your own lips, breasts and other assorted body parts. And for those of you who prefer to ascribe to the current theory that 50 is the new 30, it should hearten you to know that Frances Bavier (Aunt Bee) was in her late 40's when ANDY GRIFFITH began filming--the exact same age Sheryl Crowe is now. (And if you've seen Sheryl Crowe lately, you'll know why that's encouraging.)

My personal role model for aging gracefully is Annette Bening. When we saw OPEN RANGE back in '03, my husband kept gushing about how beautiful she was. Her face was soft, luminous, full of expression...and more than a few wrinkles. She obviously hadn't had any "work" done and had blessedly remembered that one needs an expression to act. Not since he married me have I been so impressed with my husband's excellent taste in women!

According to www.awfulplasticsurgery.com, young celebrities are just as likely to fall beneath the surgeon's knife. Shows like THE SWAN and EXTREME MAKEOVER (past guilty pleasures for some of you, I'm sure) only reinforced the destructive notion that there is only one standard for beauty. What's really sad is that while some of the contestants really did benefit from corrective dental surgery, all most of these women needed were a few fashion and make-up tips from our Lisa.

Personally, I've spent hours staring at Sarah Jessica Parker's face, trying to figure out why it's considered attractive, yet wildly grateful that it is. Sarah is a lot like Barbra Streisand and Cher were in my youth. They gave me hope because if they could be considered beautiful, then maybe I (with my oversized nose and frizzy hair) could too. To this day, I'd rather look like Barbra than Barbie.

So now you know my guilty secret and my guilty pleasure. If you're more virtuous than me, you can always visit www.goodplasticsurgery.com. Some of the most heavily featured celebrities on that site include Demi Moore, Chelsea Clinton, Teri Hatcher and...Sarah Jessica Parker.

Teresa Receives a Very Special Gift

I have received some of the absolute coolest gifts from readers but I recently got something REALLY unique. Lyndsey Lewellen has been a fan for a long time and we had the pleasure of meeting at the Dallas RWA conference. She's an excellent artist and it turned out that AFTER MIDNIGHT inspired her to do this piece of fan art representing secondary characters Portia and Julian, who will be featured in the sequel to AFTER MIDNIGHT (coming September 2006). You can click on the pic if you want to see it in greater detail. My husband (who devours comics and graphic novels) was SO impressed. Now he thinks I've REALLY arrived!

Let's Talk About S*X...

We've already answered that eternal question, "When did you first learn the truth about Santa Claus?" so I've got another one for you today--"When did you first learn about the 'mechanics' of sex?" I know your mom is supposed to have "the talk" with you at some point in your life but I'm still waiting. I had to learn about the ancient mystery of love in the 5th grade from the same obnoxious, pre-Goth, know-it-all girl who probably told me about Santa Claus. She gathered her wide-eyed audience around her in the lunchroom and proceeded to tell us all in graphic detail just exactly how the boy puts the baby into the girl. (Well, if you consider "graphic detail" being explained in terms of a hot dog and a bun.)

Needless to say, I was both horrified and disgusted. There was no way I was ever going to let any boy put THAT...THERE. After much soul searching, I decided there was only one option left to me. I would simply have to become a nun and commit myself to a life of celibacy. (I had recently read A NUN'S STORY and had found Sally Field irresistibly perky in THE FLYING NUN.) There was only one problem with that plan. I wasn't Catholic. Back to the drawing board. After more winnowing of my tormented soul, I decided that no boy would ever do something so disgusting to me--except Donny Osmond. Only for my darling Donny would I sacrifice myself to the ultimate degradation!

Fortunately for my future husband (and Donny), I discovered Kathleen Woodiwiss and Johanna Lindsay when I was fifteen and decided I might need to reconsider this whole hot dog/bun thing.

So how did you first learn about the mechanics of love? Health class? Gym class? Some precocious little snot on the playground? Or did your mom actually sit you down and gently explain the miracle of human procreation using anatomically correct terms like "wee-wee" and "Mrs. Muffin"?

And I have to add 2 disclaimers here: 1) We don't need to hear how you actually experienced the mechanics of love for the first time. This isn't THAT kind of blog. 2) If you haven't learned about the mechanics yet, then you're too young to be reading this blog and you need to get off-line before I call your mom

Teresa Never Could Resist Beauty and her Beast

If you don't mind your guys a trifle bit hairy, you've always found a little Alpha male chest thumping to be endearing, and morning breath isn't an issue, the new Kong just may be the guy for you!

The new movie version of KING KONG soars from the breathtaking imagination of director Peter Jackson. The same strengths Jackson showed in LORD OF THE RINGS are in dazzling display here. Although there are enough amazing CGI special effects to satisfy even the most jaded STAR WARS/STAR TREK geek (including me), he's never willing to sacrifice heart and intimacy for spectacle. While KONG is a sprawling rollercoaster thrill ride of a movie--the original KING KONG meets INDIANA JONES meets JURASSIC PARK--it's Naomi Watts luminous portrayal of Ann Darrow that steals our hearts (and Kong's). An incurable romantic at heart, I actually turned to my husband after the movie and said, "I wish they'd have shown more scenes developing their relationship" before remembering that I was talking about a woman and a giant gorilla.

It occurred to me as I watched the movie that this Kong has a lot in common with the heroes of our novels:

1) He adores Ann and finds her antics endlessly amusing.
2) He's so attentive he can recognize her by her smell alone
3) He rejects every other woman once they meet (hurling them out of his path like rag dolls)
3) He's keenly jealous of every other man in her life (hurling them out of his path like rag dolls)
4) He'd do anything to protect her, including sacrifice his own life.

What's not to love?

Teresa Plays Fairy Godmother to CINDERELLA MAN

I'm sure my friends would be utterly shocked that I'd pick Russell Crowe's latest film as my DVD Pick of the Week. I've shown months of restraint by not posting a single Russell Crowe pic since the perp walk pic where Lisa Kleypas and I were seen leading him away in handcuffs to be disciplined for being a bad boy. Oh, wait, that was the NYPD leading him away, wasn't it? (But if you'd like, you can pretend that Lisa and I have had him chained in our dungeon basement ever since then. I know we like to pretend that. Hey, Lisa, isn't it your turn to flog him this week?)

But I digress. CINDERELLA MAN hits DVD on Tuesday December 6th and I highly recommend it! Most people missed it in the theaters because 1) it was an Oscar-contender movie released during the summer blockbuster season and 2) it's set during the Depression and the previews made it look...well...depressing.

Instead, it's a transcendant portrait of one man beating the odds. It's also a tender love story with Renee Zellwegger playing Jim Braddock's devoted wife May. Both Russell and Paul Giamatti (SIDEWAYS, AMERICAN SPLENDOR) give Oscar-worthy performances and the climax was so thrilling that I found myself just as much on the edge of my seat the SECOND time I saw it in the theaters. I know a lot of women don't like boxing films but this one is much more of a ROCKY than a RAGING BULL and it will leave you cheering at the end just like ROCKY did. I strongly recommend this as a DVD buy or a rental and it would make a fabulous Christmas present for that special man (or parent or grandparent) in your life.

I know the pickings were lean this year, but if I had to rank the Top 3 Movies of the Year (I STILL haven't had a chance to see HARRY POTTER yet but am FINALLY going Thursday night!), I would have to rank them as 1) CRASH 2) CINDERELLA MAN 3) PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.

Teresa Remembers a Devoted Reader

We often tell you how much our readers mean to us and I was reminded of that all over again when I found this note from a couple of years ago in my files:

The e-mail I received this morning was simple. "I just want to tell you that my dear sister died today and to thank you for being such a friend to her." I first heard from Lourdes Goulart through snail mail. She was a young woman from the Azores living in America at the time and wanted to know if my name was Portuguese. She sent me an e-mail the following year to let me know that she was suffering from cancer that had originated in her breast and spread to her spine. She had returned to the Azores because medical care there was free. I sent her one of my autographed books, then rounded up several other books from my generous friends.

Shortly after that I received a beautiful cross-stitch of a windmill she could see from the window of her hospital room. Lourdes apologized for its quality because the chemo was weakening her eyesight. I thought it was beautiful. We exchanged e-mails and books several times after that. Her e-mails were always bright, witty, and filled with humor and humanity despite the suffering she was enduring. I couldn't begin to imagine what it must be like to have bits of your teeth break off with each meal or to have the cutest orderly at the hospital catch you with your pants around your ankles when you collapsed in the bathroom of your hospital room because you were too weak to sit on the commode. She told me how she'd fled from the dentist in her wheelchair after he told her he would need to pull all of her teeth because the mental image of herself--fat and swollen with no hair or teeth was just too much to take in.

She fantasized about American food (especially Mexican and Chinese :)) and talked about how hungry the steroids made you, how you just kept stuffing yourself, imagining the calorie count, and at the same time contemplating eating your mother's fingers if they got too close to your plate.

She started my most recent book the day before she entered the hospital for the last time. She didn't want to read past the first page because she didn't like to be interrupted once she started on a good book. She left me with this bit of wisdom: "Sometimes the best you can hope for is to survive today and have something to eat tomorrow."

Go with God, Lourdes, and I hope He was waiting to greet you with a romance novel in one hand and a fat Mexican burrito in the other.

Teresa Ponders an Embarrassment of Riches and Romance at the Movies

It's so rare to find a satisfying romance at the movies that I nearly dissolved into raptures of delight to discover not one but two of them this weekend! On Friday I had the distinct pleasure of going to see the new theatrical version of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE with Keira Knightly and Matthew MacFadyen. To be honest, I was prepared to be disappointed. I had seen the rather murky looking trailer that made even the gorgeous Keira Knightly look washed-out and blotchy. Plus as we all know, every version of P & P must now be compared to that platinum standard of the 1995 BBC mini-series with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle.

But I found the new movie to be thoroughly delightful and exhilarating! At just a little over 2 hours long, it couldn't cover quite as much ground as the mini-series (Wickham and the two younger sisters had very minor roles), but it beautifully captured the romance and robust good humor of Austen's story. I was caught off guard by several laugh-out-loud moments. Keira Knightly embodied Elizabeth Bennet's intelligence and wit. (Her portrayal also reminded me a little of Jo March in LITTLE WOMEN.) One glimpse of her smile and you knew why Darcy's heart was captivated. MacFadyen as Mr. Darcy won me over in the moment when I realized his voice had the exact same timbre as Alan Rickman's. The murkier cinematography actually ended up making the movie seem more vital and historically accurate. The gritty images of daily life are contrasted with breathtaking shots of the English countryside, including one of Mr. Darcy striding out of the mist that almost rivals Colin Firth's rising up out of Pemberly's pond on the female gasp of appreciation scale. (Yes, this is an actual scientific device. I have one in my office.)

Next up is the rather luscious and dangerous Joaquin Phoenix channeling Johnny Cash in WALK THE LINE. At the literal heart of the movie is Cash's longstanding and long-unrequited love for June Carter (the ever ebullient Reese Witherspoon finally being allowed to put her Nashville accent to good use) and the trials and travails he must suffer before finally settling down with the love of his life. From the foot-stomping power of the very first scene, music is the thread that binds these two restless hearts and what makes the movie even more remarkable is that Phoenix and Witherspoon did all of their own singing!

If you're looking for a taste of romance this Thanksgiving, I wholeheartedly recommend these 2 movies!