Thursday, June 9, 2016
I'm sitting on the deck of a river boat in France writing the sequel to A Promise of Passion. A woman just walked by and scolded me for working. I told her I wasn't working. I continued by saying that I was a writer and I was writing a romance novel and France seemed to be the perfect place to write romance. Holy crap, I referred to myself as a writer. I know I've written books, but that is the first time I described myself as one. Tis a monumental day for m.e.