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?