Swimming to Portland

Yes, it's me. Aren't I awesome. And, from afar, I look naked.

I wish I looked that fantastic... clothed or naked.

So, my insane friends and I are "swimming to Portland"-- as in, swimming the distance to Portland. You know who you are, insane friends. And we are swimming huge amounts of yardage trying to keep up with/beat each other. And it is a blast. And it is painful. And I am seeing stars. But that might be all the Sangria.

What does this have to do with your novel, Star-crossed, Laurel? Well, I'm glad you asked. Because Star-crossed, while it seems to be sci-fiy and romance, is really a swimming novel. And Chara looks just like tight buns in the photo there.

Say what?

Ok, that is a stretch. But one of my characters is a swimmer. Brett might seem minor, but in the only-written-in-my-head third novel, his roll is significant. There is much swimming.

And, of course, since most of the book was written in my head as I swam laps back and forth, it is a novel born of swimming.

Ok, so that is a stretch. But what can I say, I am full of Sangria. It makes sense to me. Perhaps you should try some Sangria and read this again and it will make sense.

Pardee out.