My husband and I have been busy packing this past week: Our oldest and our youngest daughters decided it was time we get our families together for Thanksgiving this year. So Bob and I are off to spend a week in Louisiana and a week in Texas.  At ages 85 (for me) and 87 (for Bob), getting ready for such a trip is never easy. It seems the older we get, the more “problems” we can manufacture … we seem to have perfected the art of fretting over the details.  Unfortunately, that means little worries too often become big ones.

Yet, deep in my heart I know that we’re really fretting over nothing. Once we are buckled into our seats, we are on our way to a visit that promises to be heartwarming and fun.

As a result of preparation, I haven’t been able to get much writing done this week, and, of course, won’t be able to for the next two weeks. Since the publication date for our first book—Twist of Fate—draws near, it’s hard for me to leave the excitement behind. I don’t have an exact date, but the book will most likely come out while I’m gone. I wish I could tell all my readers and friends the exact day when our mystery-romance story will come out, bringing to life our hero—homeless, kind-hearted Danny—and our heroine—rich, wheelchair-bound Casey. But in the world of publishing, pinning down exact dates is tough. All I can tell you is that if you have an e-book reader, keep checking Barnes & Noble or Amazon. The printed version will take a little while longer.

As you can see from the background of this blog and the picture here, the cover of Twist of Fate is blue with white lettering representing the big snowstorm that plays such an important role in the book. You’ll see an empty wheelchair with a single red rose on the seat and a drop of blood on the floor. I won’t tell you the symbolism behind our cover, but I hope you’ll keep checking for that image.  Don’t give up, dear supporters, our book is definitely on its way. And I guess it’s time Bob and I were on our way to see our loved ones.

Genilee and I will keep you posted!

F. Sharon Swope