You know how sometimes you get this great idea for a book and then life happens and you totally forget about it? When I dreamed up the idea for Pronouncing Enzo, I couldn’t shake the urge to write it even though I had about 76 more important items on my to-do list. Something in me thought that writing this novel would be even more satisfying than eating a pint of chocolate-peanut butter ice cream (my all-time Fave).
And it was.
Here’s the gist:
Hester Hastings is the best dialect coach in Hollywood. The hottest actors pay her top dollar to help them master accents that will wow the critics. She would never offer free lessons to an ex-con from South Central L.A. and let him live in her pool cabana…until her best friend challenges her to a crazy bet.
In only three months, Hester must transform the ex-con so he can dazzle Hollywood royalty posing as an up-and-coming British actor.
Enzo Diaz just got out of jail. He is determined to get a good job and turn his life around. But with a criminal record and an accent straight from the streets, his job prospects aren’t looking good. When Hester offers to polish his English and give him a place to stay it’s a no-brainer. Enzo is desperate for a chance at a better life.
Hester didn’t count on finding out Enzo’s rough exterior hides a heart of gold. But just when she starts to fall for him, she discovers his shocking secret.
Forget winning the bet. Does Hester have the courage to win at love?
Fact: The candidate I was most afraid of won. Can’t change it.
Reality: My kids are healthy, we live in a warm, solid home, my marriage is still kicking along. I’m feeling more grateful today than I was on Monday when I thought the candidate I had more confidence in would win.
How could that be? I’m not sure, but I hope it continues because I’d like to spend more time feeling grateful than frightened or angry.
I’m grateful the rest of the world (mostly) seems to be feeling my electoral pain. I’m grateful to the current leaders in power who are putting the good of the country first and already working to keep things stable and steady.
I’m not saying I wouldn’t prefer the election had gone a different way. Yes, I’m still damn scared and railing against all that might be coming. I’m just saying I’m doing my best to focus on the positive. It’s not actually that difficult, thank heaven. And it’s better than constantly feeling like the only thing that will soothe me is to down a pint of chocolate peanut butter ice cream.
I am giving away Kindle copies of Pronouncing Enzo * Enter to win!
Moms. We look nothing alike. Yet we all know the fierce love that comes with the territory. We don’t always give birth to our children. Sometimes they come to us in other ways. These children of ours. Whether we birthed them or not, there are times they piss us off so royally we can’t see straight. Other times they make us so happy and proud we’re brought to tears of gratitude that they are ours.
When our babies are small we hold them close, make them laugh, nurture them with food, attention, love, music. We share with them what is important to us so they will appreciate the people we are and embrace our values.
Our children get all of us. Our love, our anger, our admiration, our courage, our passion, our irritation; the best and worst we have to offer. They know us in ways we don’t know ourselves. If you want a reality check, ask your kids what they see when they look at you. You will learn that they sense your sadness when you’re going through a hard time. They share your joy when you’re feeling on top of the world. Kids will tell it to you straight, man. Don’t ask unless you’re ready to get real.
We moms are like reverse-Terminators, relentless in our quest to raise our children into humans we can be proud of. We feel the unending responsibility to keep them safe, fed, warm, comforted, educated, happy. But they better say ‘thank you’ and ‘please’ and use their words, dammit. We taught them that. And you know the thing they do where they’re better behaved around other people than around us? Well, all I can say is, thank God for that!
To every mom who has stayed up all night with a barfing child. To the moms who remember where blankie is when the kid has a melt-down at bedtime and can’t sleep without it. Who have put that sixth band aid on because that darn kid keeps pulling them off so he can get a new band aid. To moms everywhere who keep preparing food for their children, every day, not because they feel like cooking, but because they care too much about their children’s health not to. For the moms who are struggling to provide food for their kids and go without so the little ones will have enough.
To all the moms who get up and keep doing this mom thing every, every day: you are the ultimate gift to your children. Please never forget that this mom thing you do means the world to the people who are most precious to you. They’ll never tell you, of course. You have to remember this for them also. Still, carry in your heart the knowledge of the mom super power you wield: you make your children feel loved like no one else on earth ever will.
To celebrate my birthday I am throwing a Book Giveaway on Goodreads for the month of February!