Well, it’s almost Labor Day, the traditional end of summer and beginning of fall.  Technically the first day of fall is September 23 this year, but let’s not get hung up on facts, okay?  It’s almost Fall!

When I was a kid, this was a big freakin’ deal, because the first day of fall was the first day of school.  This was very good for me, as I liked school.   After I got over my first day of kindergarten trauma and my mean old first grade teacher, I liked school very much. 

First day of Fall meant the trees would soon turn and the temps would begin to drop.  It meant new pencils and notebooks and the smell of paste.  I liked paste.  If you were lucky, some kid in your class would eat some and throw it up.  Now that was entertainment.

On Labor Day weekend, we’d have a picnic with hotdogs and hamburgers and potato salad.   Some nice person would always bring a bucket of KFC.  Kids moaned that school would soon end their freedom.  I always moaned with the others, as I didn’t want anyone to know my evil secret - that I did like school.  BTW - this was my high school.

Now, for us in Florida, school starts mid-August.  Labor Day isn’t a rite of passage, it’s just another 3-day weekend (for which we are humbly grateful, don’t get me wrong).  The trees won’t turn here in the Sunshine State and sometimes I miss that.  But then I remember Fall was the start of leaf raking, soon followed by … snow shoveling (shudder).  So I downloaded wallpaper for my PC that is fall foliage and I’m quite content, thank you very much.

Labor Day also meant the new season of TV would begin.  Snarl - the new season starts later and later these days.  HEROES doesn’t begin until September 24.  I guess somebody in Hollywood thought that was really the first day of fall.  FOUL!

So how will you celebrate Labor Day?  Is it a big deal?  Was it a bigger deal when you were a kid?  Did you ever eat paste?

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It just goes without saying that the Goddesses have written some of the best books so far this year. But what else are y’all reading and enjoying? For myself, I’m currently reading and loving Alisa Kwitney’s Flirting In Cars.

An accomplished journalist, Zoe Goren cant drive and she doesn’t cook. But that’s never been a problem in Manhattan, where the streets are filled with taxis and takeout restaurants, and a busy single mother can find everything she needs right at her fingertips. In fact, Zoe can’t imagine living or working anyplace else. But when Zoe’s daughter is diagnosed with dyslexia, she decides to make the ultimate sacrifice, moving two hours from Manhattan in order to enroll Maya in an excellent school for children with learning differences. Stranded in a rural paradise, Zoe must grapple with isolation, coyote howls, and the lack of good delivery services. But when she decides to overcome her fear of driving and take lessons, she meets Mack, an unnervingly attractive townie, back from Iraq and trying to adjust to civilian life. With a budding new romance and a reporting gig for the local paper, Zoe just might survive in the wilderness of small-town America after all.

I’ve read most of Alisa’s books, and what I love about her writing is that it is sexy and sassy and just plain fun. She writes wonderful characters and smart dialog. If you are in the mood for an urban-mom-meets-county-boy love story, this book is for you.

What are you reading this summer? What do you recommend?

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I tend to like Alpha heroes in romances. You know the type – a little macho, a little arrogant. Totally self-confident and secure in themselves and in their amorous skills. For my fictional heroes, SNAGS (Sensitive New Age Guys) need not apply.

My favorite Alpha males are dangerous bad boys and wicked rakes in need of reform, since I know deep in my swooning romantic heart they’re only waiting for the right woman (me!) to come along and redeem them with her love. For me, their delicious lure is the fantasy of taming a strong man and making him worthy of being my soul mate.

But the truth is, in real life I would never put up with most of these macho Alpha male jerks. I’d want to give them a hard kick in the family you-know-what.

We’re talking fiction here, though, and conflict is the lifeblood of fiction. Thus, I’m willing to put up with a lot of Alpha-jerk behavior when I’m reading.

So what other traits do I like in my fictional heroes? Possessiveness is one. The Me-Tarzan-You-Jane You’re Mine and I’m Not Letting Anyone Else Have You kind of attitude. Which includes being willing to defend and protect me to the death.

I also like for a romance hero to be physically sexy. Body heat is a big plus. I want a hero who can keep my feet and other more sensitive body parts warm at night.

Sweat can sometimes be sexy in fiction, although it rarely is in real life. One pet peeve of mine is snoring. No self-respecting hero snores. If I were advising a romance hero on how to increase his appeal, I would say always avoid snoring when you sleep. If you star in a contemporary, you can buy some good anti-snore spray. If you’re in an historical, you should give your heroine earplugs made of wax.

And you darned well better be kind to animals, although kindness to bratty kids is optional.

What advice would you give a fictional romance hero in winning the heart of his heroine? What traits do you like to see in your heroes? What traits are big turn-offs for you? And do you feel the same way about the men you know and love in real life?

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Before Christmas, I birthed a child - a whopping five-hundred-fifty-page bouncing baby book.  I was in labor for a whole month.  It was quite harrowing.  I don’t even want to discuss the stretch marks…

Today my new book comes out - DIE FOR ME (cue scary music).  This book has something for everyone.  It has a hot hero - homicide detective Vito Ciccotelli.  It has a kick-butt heroine - archeologist, linguist, and specialist in medieval weapons and warfare, Sophie Johannsen.  DIE FOR ME has history,  medieval weapons and torture, video games, ground penetrating radar, opera, romance and hot sex.  Did I mention the hot sex?  Hot sex and an uber-evil villain - what more could a reader want? 

And did I mention it goes on sale TODAY?

For me, book release day is like putting your kid on the school bus for the first time.  You’ve created this lovely (scary) book, agonized over every word, every one of the grisly, scary murders (and there are a lot).  Then you edit it, worry over it, market the ever living daylights out of it, do everything but take its temperature.  (But if you did, its temperature would be HOT.  Which in kids is bad, but in romantic suspense is very good.)

Then the day comes when you must let your little darling fly, when you can do no more.  When you hope the stars will align and that your book will fling itself off the shelves and into the loving arms of readers everywhere.  (EVERYWHERE, get it?  That means YOU!)

I hope my book’s first day in the world is more successful than my first day of school.  I remember it well as it was a traumatic experience.  Let me preface this by saying that as a child, I was a grade A wuss and almost everything became a traumatic experience.  I was in Mrs. Bobby’s kindergarten class and somehow managed to get lost on my way from the bus to the classroom.   See, not only was I a wuss, but I was also exhibiting my tendency toward being directionally challenged at a very early age.   I’m no longer a wuss, but I still get lost everywhere I go.

I also get easily distracted.  Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  First day of school, lost, and traumatized.  Being easily distracted, I think I’d stopped to look at a bulletin board or something, then all of the sudden the hallways were silent - everyone had gone to class and that’s when I realized I had no idea where to go!   Problem solving had not yet become one of my skills, so I sat down in the middle of the hallway and burst into kindergarten tears.  Luckily one of my neighbors was passing by and saw me crying.  She knew exactly where to take me.  I made it to Mrs. Bobby’s class safely and thus began my academic career. 

I really hope my book has a more auspicious beginning!

So how do you handle such landmark events, be they a release date, the opening of a play, your kid’s first day of school, your first day of school?  Do you fly free or do you sit in the hallway and burst into tears?  Do you get lost everywhere you go? Are you easily distracted?  Dang.  And the $100 question - when will DIE FOR ME fling itself into your loving arms?  Have you seen the video at my website - www.karenrosebooks.com?  Were you totally terrified?

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There is one thing in life that is so not fair, that it’s way more unfair than anything else you can name that is unfair: Men and calories. Doesn’t it seem like most men can eat anything and not worry about it? Jack London is a big guy, but he’s trim. Yet he eats stuff that would curl your hair and he doesn’t gain an ounce. He announces he needs to drop a couple of pounds and decides to let it “melt off” while doing the yard…and it actually works.

Last week, he came home from work and announced we were going to be vegans. He’d heard some radio program about it and was inspired. A couple of days later, the vegan thing flew out the window with his discovery of the world’s largest meat snack. It’s still in the fridge.

Then yesterday, he got very excited when he realized that I was going to be gone for a couple of weeks (Ireland! Wooooo-hoooooo!), which means he can eat anything he wants. No vegetables! No fish! He went to the grocery store and came home with: two bags of chips and the stuff to make queso, six cans of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup, and two half gallons of rocky road-type ice cream. This is his idea of a dream diet.

The cruel thing is, he will polish all that off in a few days and go back for something equally strange. In the meantime, I will be hiking around the Emerald Isle, trying to watch what I eat, and probably gain five pounds. He will lie around eating queso with an ice cream chaser, and his only real physical activity will occur the day before I come home, when he cleans house and yard after two weeks of bachelor bliss. But he’ll lose a couple of pounds. That is so unfair.

What is your husband/father/brother/pal’s favorite splurge food? And what’s his stance on meat snacks?

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Yes, it’s FRO Sunday — that’s For Refreshment Only Sunday, for those of you who may be new. And boy, do we have a refreshing sight for you today! Feast your eyes on this, my lovelies!

Straight from Mt. Olympus, the man who made “leather man panties” an acceptable term in every day conversation — TA DA!!! IT’S GERARD BUTLER!!!!

And in case you were wondering if he’s as tasty in real life, the answer is YES. Here he is at the Premiere of 300:

Enjoy your FROS!

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I turned 30 today–again. I’ve been turning 30 for over ten years now. It’s getting a little strange since my children are in their twenties. In a few years, my daughter and I will be the same age. It’s not that I lie about my age. If someone asks I always tell the truth, but I never volunteer.

For the special day, Mr. G. is packing a picnic and taking me out on the lake to fish. Now I’m not huge on fishing, but I do like the shiny red pole he bought me last summer. Mostly I like to fish because I like to float around on the boat and eat.

What’s your favorite thing to do on your birthday? And do you lie about your age?

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So this is how it happened; my youngest child moved out of the house exactly 9 days ago. This was A Moment. I’m sure you understand.

I’ve always written at home and loved it. I have a dedicated office; it’s full of everything I need. It’s quiet and it’s pretty (because I like to be surrounded by prettiness—I’m a girl and I make no apologies). Then The Baby left the building. The office, the house, the universe instantly became too quiet. In my whole introverted little life, I have never known the state of Too Quiet. I’m living in that state now and it’s not working for me.

I can’t write in my office anymore. I tried writing in the kitchen; big surprise, it was just as quiet as the office. So, I did it. I packed up my Apple laptop and headed to the mall.

One thing you have to know about me is that I hate the mall. To find myself climbing into my car at 10AM every day so I can drive to the mall is one of those truly ironic situations. I sit in the food court (I hate the food court; I have never in my life eaten food court food), I watch life swirl around me, I listen to a hundred snatches of conversation that have nothing to do with me and I write. I write like the wind. I write with such focus and such brilliance (okay, I made that last part up) that I amaze myself.

I wouldn’t be surprised if this is some empty nest induced psychotic break. I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up back in my home office someday. I also wouldn’t be surprised if I became a fixture in the food court. Already the soft pretzel lady is greeting me with a smile and a nod of her head. If this keeps up, if Soft Pretzel actually starts talking to me, I may have to move over to the Mrs. Field’s cookies booth. I can’t write if I feel I’m being noticed. I need to be invisible, a minnow in the food court sea.

Has anyone else found their life suddenly shift? What did you do about it? And as long as I’m sitting in the food court, any recommendations?

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One of our goddess posters (the lovely Freshechelle) mentioned something her mother told her — “Never leave home without make-up and nice clothes because you never know when you’ll run into someone from high school and you want to make sure they eat their heart out.” That really got me to thinking.

Was there anyone from High School I care enough about to hope they ‘eat their hearts out’ when they see me climbing out of my limo, looking like a cross between Jennifer Anniston and Princess Di?

Actually, yes. I’m not going to name any names, but there was one guy who was always nice to me, but never SAW me for who I was because I wasn’t a cheerleader, or a spirit squad member, or even a volleyball player. Just once I want him to look up, see me climbing out of my limo, the wind lifting my hair as, in slo-mo, I step onto the pavement one sexy shoe-ed foot at a time, my silk dress caressing my slender, sexy body, my thick hair blowing about my never-aged-a-day face.

Just ONCE, I want that. And if I don’t get it, I’ll just have to continue to hope that not only did the woman he married get fat, but so did he.

What about you? Was there a guy in high school or college who didn’t know you were alive? If you could, would you give him a ‘Darn it, I could have had THAT” moment? What made him so special? How do you think he ’saw’ you? Would you like him to see you again, especially if you could pull off the slo-mo, perfectly gorgeous in a limo trick?

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Though I still don’t see the attraction in a shapeshifter book where the hero turns into a squid (or vice versa), I do have a fondness for the ungainly members of the animal kingdom. Read into that what you will, but I love the non-streamlined, hippity-hoppity horde.

The giraffe. Ask anyone, I love giraffes. I have a 7-foot statue of one in my foyer. Those dark eyes and llllooooonnnnngggg eyelashes make them cute, but anything with five feet of leg and seven feet of neck is not going to look terribly graceful.

The hippopotamus. In addition to being worth about 500 points in Scrabble, the hippo is cool. Yes, they can kill you, but they wiggle their ears when they’re mad (at least according to Disneyland’s Jungle Cruise, they do), so there’s some warning. Lumbering and uncuddly, at least they know the virtues of a deep pool of water on a hot day.

The orangutan. The babies are a 17 on the 1-10 scale of cuteness, but I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about the adult males. The ones that look like they’ve had their faces flattened by air bags. I like them because they think they look cool.

The ostrich. Brain the size of a walnut, able to disembowel a lion with one good kick. I wouldn’t want to live next door to an ostrich farm, but they’re the closest looking thing to a dinosaur alive today. And they only eat bugs and veggies, which is a relief.

The narwhal. I thought they were fake the first time I saw one. I mean, unicorns, okay. But whales with horns? Amazing.

Do you prefer the beautiful beasts, or do you have a soft-spot for the more…unique members of the animal kingdom? What’s your favorite non-domesticated animal?

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