At what moment does a book become real to its author? Tonight, surfing the Internet, I saw my upcoming July book, Happiness Key, on Shelfari, the cover bright and sunny, smiling happily at me from my computer screen. I moved to Amazon, and there it was again. My baby. Soon for sale. Too cool.
Actually, Happiness Key has been real to me for some time. I spent so much time thinking about the four women whose stories I tell, that by the time I set pen to paper (okay, more realistically, fingers to computer keys) Tracy, Wanda, Janya and Alice were as real as my neighbors. In fact, except for Carol next door, whom I know pretty well, my characters are even more real to me. After all, I’ve been inside their heads. I know what they eat, how they sleep and with whom. I know what they’re afraid of, and why. And I was the one who watched them come together, slowly, ever so slowly and begin to form bonds.
But wow, seeing the cover out there in public? When I should have been the first to debut it right here? Definitely very real now. So, lest I allow Amazon and Shelfari and all those undiscovered sites I’ve yet to find scoop me completely, here’s a real peek at the cover. Not as large as life, but clear as day.
And while I’m basking in a cover that makes me smile, I’ll share something else. Just between us? I started the sequel this week. Fortunate Harbor follows the same characters and adds another. And was I happy at the reunion? You bet. The only problem?
I want to be lying on that beach with them. How about you?