The Call (aka the book(s) sold)

Posted Aug 26 2014, 1:58 pm in Harlequin

Last Tuesday, Aug. 19, I received a note from the fantabulous Dana Hopkins, assistant editor/editorial assistant, Blaze and American Romance, that she and Senior Editor Kathleen Scheibling were discussing my books (The Surgeon and The Cowgirl, which made it to the Top 10 of So You Think You Can Write, and a second cowgirl book, The Lawyer and the Cowgirl – of course these are working titles!).

Friends and I took out our secret decoder rings (think Little Orphan Annie from A Christmas Story) to decipher what this might mean. No clear conclusion.

Fortunately for me, I had a ton of fun things planned for the week, including a lunch-time tea on Thursday with my sister-in-law and two friends to look at pictures from a tea tour we’d taken in northern England and the Lake District. I turned off my phone – only polite thing to do.

After I got home, I needed to get work done (I’m a self-employed writer/editor) before going off to rehearse for Barefoot in the Park (more fun distractions). A quick email check. There was one from Dana asking to set up a time to “chat” – no need for a decoder ring. That had to me THE CALL, right?

Then I noticed three missed calls from … Canada. Yikes! I redialed twice but hung up – cold feet worse than asking a guy out on Sadie Hawkins day (Google it – it’s a thing).

I emailed Dana back and said I was available (I didn’t add exclamation points or anything) and moments later the phone rang. I said: This must be Dana 

She told me … who knows what … I eventually heard two-book contract … my brain totally stopped working and my mouth went on auto-pilot. I did ask questions – they may even have been intelligent questions.

Then, I got off the phone and danced around my office, much to the annoyance of the cat. Back to the computer to email everyone I know, followed by days of calling friends and family!

Finding a home for my cowgirls at Harlequin American Romance is particularly sweet because The Surgeon and The Cowgirl was started just after my mother passed away four years ago. I like to think of this book as hers.

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