Meet Sadie, the 3 year-old green-eyed cat we rescued from the shelter earlier this year.

She’s a real character.

She’s extremely vocal and enjoys hiding inside grocery bags. Also lap sitting, desk sitting, and keyboard sitting.

Her all-time favorite activity is rubber band chasing. I don’t need to explain how this works, I’m sure, but I will anyway:

1. I shoot a rubber band across the room (Sadie prefers the big ones I use to keep book manuscripts together);

2. Sadie chases it and brings it back;

3. Repeat steps 1 and 2. Forever.

I have tried explaining to Sadie that this whole rubber band thing is a stupid dog trick, well beneath her dignity, but she doesn’t listen. Yesterday she worked a big blue rubber band off a manuscript when I wasn’t there, knocking papers all over the floor in the process.

We keep her around because she’s cute.

What about you? What stupid trick does your pet do? Today’s commenter with the stupidest trick will win a surprise autographed book from the ones I brought back from the conference in Dallas.

The lazy days of summer are here, and I don’t feel like doing much of anything because it’s just too hot. Here’s a list of things I didn’t do yesterday:

1. vacuum (what’s the point when you have young children and pets? I mean, REALLY);
2. dust (a protective layer is good for furniture, don’t you think?); and
3. cook dinner (that’s the beauty of leftovers).

Here’s a list of things I won’t be doing today:

1. pull weeds;
2. grocery shop for the Fourth of July dinner, which I foolishly volunteered to cook;
3. water the lawn and flowers.

One thing I DO have the energy to do: read. I’m deep into romantic suspense right now, and here are some of my favorite authors:

1. Karen Robards (love the humor);
2. Sandra Brown (love those intense heroes);
3. Linda Howard (love the strong heroines); and
4. Cherry Adair (although I think technically she does romantic thrillers).

What about you? Are you feeling lazy too? If so, please send in one thing you won’t be doing today. Or, in the alternative, please send in a recommendation for a great romantic suspense to read by the pool. I’m giving away a Borders gift certificate at the end of the day to a lucky commenter. Be warned, though—if you write in about how you’re cleaning the entire house from top to bottom today you will be AUTOMATICALLY DISQUALIFIED!

If I were doing my job properly, I’d be sitting here writing a blog post of such perfect wit and brilliance that you’d drop everything and run right out to buy six or eight copies of my books, Trouble, Risk, and Just About Sex.

Unfortunately, it’s summer and my brain, which is a little dicey on the best of days, keeps thinking about only one thing: sangria, the perfect summer treat.

Martha Stewart has a recipe for the best sangria ever. Here’s a link:

http://www.marthastewart.com

Feel like sharing? Please tell me about some of your favorite summer recipes and, if the mood strikes, send us a link. I’ll pick a random commenter at the end of the day to win a $25 gift certificate to Williams-Sonoma, where I’m sure they have beautiful sangria pitchers.

Sooo… Did you see the season finale of The Office last night?

Jim asked Pam out for dinner! Yay!

Yes, yes. I know this isn’t a big deal like, say, a consummation or a marriage proposal, but I’ve waited years for it and I’m entitled to my moment of excitement.

First Pam was engaged to Roy the jerk, and Jim adored her in silence. Then Jim finally confessed his love, but Pam insisted she’d still marry Roy. Then Pam came to her senses and fired Roy, but by then Jim had moved to the Stamford office to get away from Pam. Then Jim met and began to date Karen. Then the offices merged, and Jim and Karen came back to Pam’s branch. All this season I’ve had to watch Pam watch Jim date Karen. Then, finally, last week, Pam summoned her courage and told Jim she cared for him, and last night, on the last episode until the fall season begins, Jim asked Pam on a date.

O happy day!

There’s something about office romances that I just love. Maybe it’s the inherent risk involved if it doesn’t work out and the co-workers still have to see each other. Maybe it’s the close proximity, where one person may not feel free to confess his/her feelings, but is still close enough to touch the object of his/her affection. Whatever it is, I’ve written two books with office romances: Trouble, featuring a lawyer and his law clerk, and my January, 2008 Harlequin/Kimani Press book, Sweeter Than Revenge, featuring publicists.

What about you? Do you love office romances? Did you clap with glee during the last five minutes of The Office? Have you ever had an office romance? Comments, please. I’ll give away a copy of Trouble to a commenter at the end of the day.

Here’s today’s topic for discussion:

I prefer my romance novels with/without kids in them. (Pick one.)

Discuss.

I’ll start. My gut reaction, when standing in the bookstore and reading back cover copy trying to decide whether or not to buy book X, is something like this, “I have kids in real life. Kids are stressful. I read romance novels to relax. Ergo, why would I want to read a romance novel with kids in it?”

And yet … some of the best novels I’ve ever read have had kids in them, including Lisa Kleypas’ beautiful and brilliant SUGAR DADDY (which is technically women’s fiction, but has strong romance and a HEA), Linda Howard’s COVER OF NIGHT (twins!), and Karen Robards’ HEARTBREAKER. The book I’m reading now, Pamela Clare’s RIDE THE FIRE, features a woman pregnant and alone on the American frontier. Talk about a situation ripe for conflict and trouble… And doesn’t Harlequin have a line that deals with pregnant heroines?

Something about throwing a child into the mix always launches the book’s emotional stakes up into the stratosphere, don’t you think? Being a mother myself, I can immediately understand and sympathize when a heroine is more cautious, brave, or daring because of a child. And if the fictional child is in jeopardy, well, all bets are off.

The key seems to be the ability to get rid of the fictional child at key moments, so that the romantic leads can, uh, get to know each other a little better. In RISK, I gave the hero a flat-screen TV with remote down the hall in his bedroom, so that the three-and-a-half year old niece, Maya, could disappear at strategic times. I think it also helps to have multiple available babysitters on standby, which, God knows, is easier in the fictional world than in real life.

It doesn’t hurt if the child is cute and charming. In RISK, Maya has her devilish moments, including cutting off a hank of her own hair, but she’s also adorable and vulnerable. Her presence in the book, I think, makes the emotional highs and lows so much greater.

So what do you think? Are kids in books automatic deal breakers? If not, which books with which kids are your favorites? I’m giving away a copy of RISK to a commenter at the end of the day assuming, of course, that the commenter likes kids in books. :)

What grabs you about a romance novel’s cover? What’ll make you stop dead in your tracks in a bookstore and pick up a book to gaze at the beautiful artwork?

Do you like the steamy clinch? The half-naked body parts? The dreamy, unfocused corner of a face?

Or is it the color that grabs you? Do you like a vivid blue or purple? Red, maybe?

Does it matter if the cover doesn’t match the content? Say, a dog on the cover that appears nowhere in the book? Does anyone (other than the author!) really care about minor details like that?

What about turn-offs? Is there anything a publisher can throw on a cover that absolutely guarantees you don’t buy the book?

Do you mind reading the book in public if the cover is really explicit? Do you slide it inside your open copy of WAR AND PEACE?

Me? I love:

Comments, please, and don’t be shy. I’m giving away a copy of JUST ABOUT SEX (note the pretty cover with the laughing couple in bed!) to a commenter at the end of the day.

My latest book, Just About Sex, has just hit the shelves. In it, sex therapist and columnist Simone Beaupre prints a letter from Alex Greene’s disgruntled ex-girlfriend. Said letter questions Alex’s … ah … masculinity, which, naturally, upsets and infuriates Alex. He demands a retraction/apology, Dr. Simone refuses, and he takes extreme measures to teach her a lesson about the evils of ruining someone’s reputation.In other words, Alex Greene, the otherwise very nice and noble hero of my novel, commits a dastardly deed.

Cue the Darth Vader music.

Alex, as you no doubt know, isn’t the first romantic hero to commit a dastardly deed. Without breaking a sweat, I can think of a handful of romances featuring kidnappings, forced marriages, and blackmailings, among other wrongdoing. Take pirate Liam O’Neill, for instance, the hero from one of my all-time favorite historical romances, Brenda Joyce’s The Game. He’s head over heels in love with the heroine, not to mention unspeakably sexy, but, let’s face it, his list of wrongdoing is longer than my arm: attacking a ship, abducting the heroine, abducting her again … the transgressions just go on and on. He’s redeemed in the end, but let’s just say he’s gonna have some ‘splainin to do when he reaches the pearly gates.

Why, oh why, do these sorts of misdeeds make for such a great book? Why don’t the heroines put a stop to all this bad behavior? Why do these heroes get away with it? Why aren’t they all prosecuted, convicted, and fitted for the striped jumpsuit?

Is it the heroes’ sexiness? Their cleverness? Their boldness?

Or is it their absolute adoration of the heroines and corresponding determination to win their love by any nonviolent means necessary?

I dunno what it is, but I gotta say it—I love the occasional dastardly deed.

In celebration of my new book, I’m going to give away two signed copies to commenters today. All you need to do is tell us:

How do you feel about dastardly deeds? Which hero is your favorite DD doer?