This weekend the Sisters went to a major league baseball game because it was paid for by our company. Can you believe Bank of No Forks paid for a skybox suite? Us neither.

Ava was, shall we say, unexcited about going. She is not a sports person. I wouldn’t describe myself as a sports person either, even though I’m a huge hockey fan. Still, I don’t think liking one sport makes a person a “sports person”.

So the Amylynn and Ava show went on tour. We’re happy to say, the event went way better than we expected. Ava was duly impressed that there was Cold Stone Creamery to be had and we bought some by the third inning.

Because we were in the suite, we had to take the elevator. You’d think by 40+ years old we’d be fairly knowledgeable about operating an elevator, but that is simply not so. At least that’s what the people at the ball park think. The elevator is very firmly regulated and you ARE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH ANY BUTTONS. There is a very stern lady inside the elevator who strictly controls what happens in there and decides where you’re allowed to get off. When we finally got back to our seats, we double-dog-dared the rest of our group to ride the elevators just to see what happened. They’re all chicken, don’t  you know.

Here are some other observations from the game.

We noticed a great many players with massive beards on the roster. When did the Amish begin playing professional baseball? Did a whole bunch of Rumspringas get out of control? We guess it’s alright anyway. It’s not like you use electricity to play baseball. Still, it seemed weird.

When the crowd was instructed by the Jumbotron to “Make Some Noise!!” we did not. We get bossed around enough without some stupid baseball guy trying to tell us what to do. That’s bullshit. We refused.

Amylynn fell down while participating in the wave. No alcohol was involved, but someone should do something about those stupid seats folding up every time you get out of them. That’s just embarrassing.

All in all we had a lovely time even though our team lost miserably. The corporate guys who facilitated the whole thing insist they can get hockey tickets. God we hope so. Amylynn would be beside herself with glee and Ava would come along for the ride.

Along with honoring the men and women who put their lives on the line everyday to

ensure our freedoms – and sometimes giving the ultimate sacrifice, the Sisters also want to be sure to honor the dogs who work alongside the military.

Dogs are amazing. After a long hard day of bomb sniffing and sky diving and patrolling, all they need for a reward is a nice bowl of kibble and a cuddle.

Every time one of our books come out, we are even more sure we’re justified in quitting our jobs at Bank of No Forks. Like right away, today in fact.  If this blog could provide health insurance – we’d be golden. Until then, we’ll have plenty of fodder for your amusement. As it is, we’ve had a fun launch of book two. We fervently hope you obtain yourself a copy and that you enjoy it. And then you should leave a heartfelt review – see #1 of our favorite things. There was much to chuckle about this week. Here is just a sample of what kept us amused:

1. Best. Review. Miss Goldsleigh’s Secret got a FANTASTIC review mere hours after it went up for sale. Honestly, we couldn’t have hoped for better validation. And the absolute best part of the whole thing was that WE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HER. If it wasn’t completely absurd, we’d send her an enormous bouquet of roses as thanks. We’ve made everyone we know sit still and pay attention while we read the review aloud.  Twice.  Then we all squeal like idiots. Sometimes, we’ll just look at each other and

This one wouldn’t hurt

flail our arms like Kermit and shriek – “We don’t even know that women.” Eventually, we’ll get over it, but until then watch your eyes. Sometimes that flailing gets out of hand.

2. International Tiara Day. Happens to be today – May 24th, a date wisely chosen to coincide with Queen Victoria’s birthday. If ever there was a day tailor-made for the Sisters it’s International Tiara Day. We are more than happy to wear wee sparkly crowns for 24 hours.  Oh yes, we’re sleeping in it too.  Well, actually, crowns make Amylynn’s head hurt. We’ve determined the problem is the cheap crowns we keep getting. We’re willing to bet any amount of money that if given a

Doesn’t this look fun?

real diamond and emerald headdress it wouldn’t hurt at all. Damn Dollar Store plastic tiaras.

3. Out of the question vacations. It has come to our attention that an 80 year old heart patient and and 81 year old Sherpa are going to attempt to climb Mount Everest. We want to state unequivocally that we have no intention of climbing a mountain when we’re 80. We don’t even plan to climb stairs when we’re 80 much less the world’s tallest mountain. That’s just dumb. What’s the point of living to 80 years old if you’re going to exert yourself like that. We’re also not going to go skydiving, swim with sharks or watch grandchildren.

4.   Dan Brown’s office. Have you people seen the latest People magazine? There’s an interview with Dan Brown, author of The Da Vinci Code and other best sellers. There’s a picture of his office included in the text. If it’s possible to get sexual arousal from a picture of another author’s work space, this is it. We felt all tingly over for his supple leather furniture, titillating balcony book cases, sensuous carpet, and luscious two-story arched windows. Seriously, we needed a moment alone. Office porn – and in a good way not a nasty-old-politician-sending-pictures-of-his-wiener kind of way.

5. Ziegfeld Collection. Tiffany, our favorite store, followed closely by the Hermes store in Paris, has a whole collection inspired by the latest version of The Great Gatsby. While reviewing the collection on line, it occurred to us that the very minute the zombie apocalypse happens, we’re hitting the Tiffany flagship store and robbing them blind. Can you think of any reason why we can’t machete zombies while wearing 100 million dollars worth of diamonds? Also, we feel that in the spirit of full disclosure, neither of us have been to the Hermes store in Paris but we do have a very good imagination and we feel that it simply MUST be one of our favorite shops. How could it not be? We’re not sure we’re wearing Hermes during the apocalypse, though. Zombie’s are awfully icky and silk stains.

Miss Goldsleigh’s Secret went live yesterday and I was a bit distracted because of it.

There’s all that stalking the sales and rankings on Amazon. I trolled Facebook and Twitter all day for updates and such.

The sales have been going well and that pleases me tremendously.

And then – oh dear God – then I found a review of the book on Amazon. BY SOMEONE I DON’T EVEN KNOW! She gave it a rave – a 5 star review.

It started like this: I downloaded a sample last night before bed and warning do not repeat my error. I could not put it down.

It got better and better.

I read it to Ava and the rest of the girls in my office. I called my mom and read it to her. I called my other Sister. I Tweeted and Facebooked about it.

The rest of the day I floated around with a stupid grin and talked in a pitch so high only dogs could hear me.

Ava and I went to the mall and the most gorgeous purse called to me. Lady Harrington and Lady Dalton (Francesca and Olivia) whispered in my ear how I totally deserved this purse. In fact, they insisted – INSISTED – that I own it. If you’ve read the books, you know those ladies can be very persuasive.

Let me introduce you to my gorgeous reward for selling a bunch of books.

It’s here! It’s here! Miss Goldsleigh’s Secret is available at Amazon both in e-book format and paper copy – for which ever reading pleasure floats your boat.

The Authorgraph widget over there on the left can let me autograph your digital copy. Nifty, eh?

When Henry Cavendish, Marquess of Dalton, leapt to catch the fainting woman before she hit the cobblestone, he never thought that one chivalrous act would set his well ordered life on end. His ingrained need to protect her has every bit as much to do with her enchanting beauty as it does his desire to wipe the hunted look from her startling blue eyes. He thinks he has everything in hand, but the lady has secrets that put everything he loves at risk.
Olivia Goldsleigh just wants to live without terror, but a gunshot in the night proves things can always get worse. The beautiful and god-like Lord Dalton swears to protect her, to make the danger go away. She wants the man, the life, the family, the bliss he promises, but her secrets are certain to destroy them all.

You can read the first chapter here

Sassy turned ten this last week. On her actual birthday I received a series of texts from My Honey that implied she wanted me to cook her dinner. Me. ME. I could not for the life of me understand why she’d want that. It never really works out. Unless, I’ve known dinner was my responsibility well ahead of time and ALL of the ingredients are waiting for me at home, dinner is a fiasco.

Lucky, she requested Olive Garden. While that’s not my favorite restaurant by any stretch, it is a far sight better than anything I’m going to burn.

On Sunday, we had the family dinner. I was in charge of her birthday cake.

Oh sweet heaven. A store bought cake was out of the question. It’s never acceptable. I have been informed that it is a mother’s job.  Sassy asked for a pineapple upside-down cake.

Wow. Yeah. I’ve never made one of those before. I’ll admit I was a bit intimidated.

I sent My Honey to the store during her slumber party to get the ingredients as listed by my mom. He bought two of everything which was probably very forward thinking.

Sunday morning I made attempt #1.

I did everything exactly – EXACTLY – like my mom told me to. I slid the pan into the oven, set the timer on my phone, and tottered off to lay on my bed and watch TV.

While the cake is cooking, let me tell you a little history of my birthday cake career. When I was first married, My Honey’s grandmother asked me to bring a birthday cake to a family dinner. It was with complete terror I agreed. My husband’s family are excellent cooks. His mother, sister, grandmother – even his niece – can all really, really cook. His sister routinely reproduces dishes from restaurants. They are all the kinds of people who read Cuisine Magazine or Gourmet and are able to make whatever they see in there.

They look at the pictures and think, “I can make that” and they do. I look at the pictures and say, “I wonder where I can buy that?”

By the time I arrived at his grandmother’s house with that first cake, the top layer had slid completely off. It looked like a train wreck. I do recall I cried.

Every cake looks like complete hell. I can’t spread frosting. I can’t successfully put fruit in between the layers. The layers are ALWAYS uneven.

They taste yummy, they just look inedible.

So when the timer went off and I removed the cake from the oven. I stared at it with animosity. I just knew it would fail me. I couldn’t imagine a world where I would invert that pan and the entire cake would come out in one gorgeous piece. I had visions of me trying to jam the pieces together like a moist jigsaw puzzle.

I flipped the pan upside-down (hence the defining characteristic of the cake) and patted it with my potholders. I prayed to any God willing to do me a solid. I held my breath.

This is what came out.

I did the biggest happy dance in recent kitchen history. I finally pulled one off.

I’m 100% certain that it was all because My Honey had wisely bought two sets of everything as a talisman.

Ava and I are going to the Romance Writers of America convention in July. It’s in Atlanta and I’ve never been to the South.

We’re so excited.

To make matters even more exciting, we will be attending the soiree held by the Beau Monde chapter of which I am a member.

You know, if we’re attending a real Regency ball we have to have real regency dresses don’t you.

YES WE DO!!!

We found and purchased patterns we really adore and  talked my mom into sewing them for us. We’ve got 2 months to get these dresses complete so we’re not even waiting until the last minute. All of that sounds like it’s coming together very smoothly, doesn’t it?

You have no idea. No idea whatsoever the magnitude of how well this is actually working.

We met my mom at the JoAnns during lunch today to buy fabric. I didn’t think for even a minute that this would actually happen. I mean really, this was me and Ava. And my mom. The three of us have a certain problem with projects like this to varying degrees. We’ve discussed it on the blog before. Essentially what happens is one or all of us will have an idea in our head of what we want. We can see it. We can practically feel it. We know it intimately. The problem, of course, is that the majority – or at least the vital parts – of this fantasy don’t actually exist in the real world so we end up in a morass of frustration.

I hold out the imaginary purse Ava has been making me shop for the last several years as evidence. I have this problem as well, but I’m not quite as stalwart as my Sister. She’s like an Olympic level obsessive. I generally give up before people threaten me in department stores.

So knowing all this, why in Zeus’s name did I think it would work out to buy fabric today. Our first stop? Really?

Not a chance in hell.

EXCEPT THAT IT TOTALLY HAPPENED!!! I wish I had photographic proof, but I don’t. You can call the JoAnns and ask the lady at the fabric counter. I’ll bet any amount of money that she’ll remember us. We were a bit memorable – as we usually are when we take the Amy and Ava Show on the road. At one point I shrieked something about anarchy and people running amok when the number machine stopped working. If that doesn’t ring her bell, I’ll bet she’ll remember my mom yelling at Ava to buy the amount of fabric she was telling her to and shut up about it.

All of that is neither here nor there. We bought every single thing we needed today to make those dresses.

You know what… I’ll bet my real hell comes when Ava makes me go to every shoe store in this hemisphere to find “just what I’m looking for.”