Tag: Liz Maverick

Cast Your Ballot for…Romance

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Sometimes a woman, even a romance writer living in one of the world’s most exciting cities, can get stuck in a bit of a rut. In search of a new adventure, I entered THE ULTIMATE THAILAND EXPLORERS Contest with fellow romance novelist Liz Maverick. Imagine our surprise when what started out as a little promo lark hit pay dirt.

Yes, good people, we’ve made the semi-finals!

To go from finalist to winners, we need your vote, and the other four competing teams in our chosen destination of PATTAYA are some pretty tough competition. Our competitors’ occupations include corporate trainer, physical therapist, architect, wellness manager, advertising exec, and a coupla singers/song writers.

rebels-of-romance
Click the image to go to the Ultimate Thailand Explorers website. Once there, you can watch the video, but you have to register to vote.

And our main heat is packing a seriously cute baby!

That said, Liz and I are no slackers. We stand proud of our genre and yes, proud of the twenty-four books we’ve collectively written. If we get to go to Thailand, we mean to use the opportunity to put a positive public–dare we say worldwide–spin on romance.

Our video, Liz & Hope, is parked under the PATTAYA section at www.ultimatethailandexplorers.com. The poll closes November 11th. Once you register, you can vote up to every 24 hours–I’m just sayin’.

Help us show not only Thailand but the world that romance writers rock!

Holiday Goodness Challenge: Yes, We Can! We…Did!

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To borrow President Elect Obama’s campaign slogan, “Yes, we can!” Even better, we did.

Many thanks to the following generous souls who participated in my Holiday Goodness Challenge to benefit the ASPCA by giving a gift of $10, in some cases, more to support formerly homeless companion animals.

A once homeless pet has something to purr about--because of you. Image courtesy of www.aspca.org.
A once homeless pet has something to purr about--because of you. Image courtesy of www.aspca.org.

Debbie J, Levittown, NY

Jessica D, Arlington, VA

Jennifer K, Ashburn, VA

Madelina R, Parlin, NJ

Jacquie D, Atlanta, GA

Heidi B, Kylertown, PA

Mary R, Brentwood, NY &

Kay A, Blaine, MN.

Because of you, we reached our goal of $100–and saved the life of one dog or cat this holiday season. I mailed your signed copies of Vanquished over the weekend, so hopefully you’ll receive the books sometime this week.

Romance fiction writers are some of the kindest, most generous folks on the planet, ever ready to lend a helping hand to a good cause, and my Holiday Goodness Challenge was no exception. My heartfelt thanks go out to the following publishers, online communities and authors: Romantic Times BOOKReviews Magazine, The Rebels of Romance (Liz Maverick and Marianne Mancusi), Romance Vagabonds, Medallion Press, Jacquie D’Alessandro, Leanna Renee Hieber, and Heidi Betts.

Finally, I have a new contest posted, with copies of Strokes of Midnight and cover flat keepsakes of Untamed as giveaway prizes. Please check back later in the week when I post last month’s contest winners. The latter might just include…You!

Happy Tales/Tails,

Hope

Happy Holidays

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In case you haven’t noticed how quiet this blog has been, I’ll admit it. My gadfly wings have been seriously clipped by the need to get some honest to goodness writing done. Still, you know what they say about all work and no play…

EKM and Moi looking very pleased with our holiday gift bags. Love those prezzies...
EKM and Moi looking very pleased with our holiday gift bags. Love those prezzies...

Fortunately I took time out to attend The Rebels of Romance holiday party at The Dove Parlour in the West Village. In addition to the co-hostesses, Liz Maverick and Marianne Mancusi, all the usual suspects turned out including Dorchester author Leanna Hieber, her editor, Chris Keesler, and Scandalous Women blogger extraordinaire, Elizabeth Kerri Mahon (AKA “EKM”). The Dove, which has appeared previously in this blog, is one of my favorite Manhattan venues–Victorian brothel meets Manhattan “secret” bar with cocktails like the Cherry Tart and, for the season, mulled wine. Then again, the holidays aren’t about a great venue or fab fashion wear though yeppers, everybody was certainly stylin’. Holidays are about spending time with the people (and pets!) we care about who care about us and remembering to be thankful for them as well as all the other blessings in our lives.

Per the pets, please don’t forget my Holiday Goodness Challenge. We’ve had several takers so far, but I still have copies of Vanquished to give out. Beyond that, homeless dogs and cats need our help this holiday season more than ever.

Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanza, or the Solstice…

Happy, happy & Merry, merry…

Hope

Weekend Wrap-Up

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I’m coming off a solid weekend–seriously solid. Even better, it started early, on Thursday when I met up with fellow Harlequin author Wendy Etherington for drinks and then a Nascar-sponsored concert at the Hard Rock. Wendy writes for Harlequin’s Nascar-themed series, and she rolled into town to take part in the Nascar cross-promotional festivities, including a book signing. What I know about Nascar, about racing period, could fit into a thimble with room to spare. Fortunately for me Wendy is a fab teacher, and I’m a quick study. And having music mega-star Gavin DeGraw play a private concert for Nascar royalty and well, us in the Hard Rock’s auditorium while we stood stageside was well, way cool.

Gavin DeGraw at the Hard Rock.
Gavin DeGraw at the Hard Rock.

Next stop on the Fun Train: Kennedy’s, an iconic Midtown Irish pub and restaurant, for Romance Writers of America/NYC’s annual holiday brunch. Over eggs and mimosas, I caught up with Scandalous Woman and outgoing RWA/NYC prez, Elizabeth Kerri Mahon, Dee Davis, and others, including one member’s adorable four-month old baby, Jack.

A quick refresh, including “costume” change, and then it was back out to the Upper West Side’s Dive Bar for bookseller buddy, Stacey Agdern’s birthday. The putin–a heap of fries layered with gravy and topped with lots of gloppy good melted cheese–was delish and the cosmo wasn’t bad, either.

EKM and Moi put on the glitz at The Dive Bar.
EKM and Moi put on the glitz at The Dive Bar.

I departed the Dive Bar with the Rebels of Romance, Liz Maverick and Marianne Mancusi amidst the season’s first snow. Even wearing open-toed platform pumps–what was I thinking?–I found myself getting caught up in Liz’s winter wonderland enthusiasm. Still, by the time we reached our next stop, The Brass Monkey in the uber trendy Meatpacking District, I was more than happy to settle inside, have a drink, and thaw.

Soon it was time to move on again to the signature event of the night, The Bowie Ball at Santos Party House in Tribeca. Named after glitter rock legend David Bowie, the ball is an homage to the 1980’s music and fashion scene. Between sets of classic 80’s dance tunes, we took in the stage show where drag queens, retro bands, and burlesque dancers literally rocked the house.

Today, Sunday, I dialed it down a notch and attended the New York Public Library’s holiday open house. The library is always lovely, but decked out in holiday splendor it was positively breathtaking. Face painting, puppet show, stilt walkers, and costumed actors kept kids of all ages thoroughly entertained. Music provided by groups such as the Brooklyn Youth Chorus and a Santa suited brass band put us all in the holiday spirit.

Holiday goodness at the New York Public Library.
Holiday goodness at the New York Public Library.

On the way home, I squeezed in some not-so-early Christmas shopping and then stopped in at one of my favorite restaurants for a glass of vino and a bowl of lobster bisque. Finally it was home again where hungry cats and neglected fictional characters awaited me.

What cool stuff did you do this weekend?

Merry merry, happy happy,

Hope

Shaken, Not Stirred

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I’m deep “in the soup” as my writer buddy, Liz Maverick is fond of saying, so immersed in my work-in-progress that if it weren’t for the occasional vocal intervention of hungry cats, I’m not sure I’d register the time of day.

Still, you know what “they” say about all work and no play. In this case, it makes Hope a dull girl and well, when you’re a writer of romance fiction and a purveyor of Happily Ever Afters, you can’t have that.

I took time out this Friday to meet friends for the opening of the new James Bond flick, Quantum of Solace, and I am ever so glad I did. First off, though, I have to cop to the need to eat a little crow. Before seeing the film, I had doubts, vocally expressed doubts, about Daniel Craig pulling off the classic role of Fleming’s uber suave British secret agent. Even though I’m a fan of the film series, I missed out on seeing the 2006 prequel, Casino Royale, Craig’s debut in the role. Not to cast aspersions on Mr. Craig’s acting abilities and well, obvious attributes, but he’s no Remington Steele, and make fun of me if you will, but I really liked Pierce Brosnan in the role. And Craig is blond, which seemed like it might work against the character’s edgy, dark vibe.

After seeing the film, I have to concede that the critics are right on the money this time. Daniel Craig is the penultimate James Bond, at least since Sean Connery passed on the revolver. As for edgy and dark, well, his performance may give new meaning to those words. I think he may be the most tortured Bond yet–and anyone who’s read my Men of Roxbury House trilogy books: Vanquished, Enslaved or Untamed knows I go for tortured heroes in a big way.

Afterward, we decamped to an Irish pub around the corner where we tucked into a booth, ordered pints and pub grub, and settled in for a recap. Those shoulders, that chest, those burning blue eyes, those oh so chiseled if somewhat implacable features…Oh yeah, and the movie was really good, too.

Will Daniel Craig be the prototype for the hero of a future Hope Tarr novel? I’d say it’s a strong bet he will. An historical, I’m thinking, and yes, definitely British-set.

Okay, enough about me and my new Daniel Craig obsession. Anybody else do anything cool this weekend?

Hope

Happy Birthday, Bitsy!

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My very good friend, Elizabeth “Bitsy” Mahon of Scandalous Women Blog fame had her birthday this month. To be perfectly exact, she’s had it twice–so far. She may be on her way to having a whole Birthday Month. If so, she has my total support.

Hope and Elizabeth at The Dove. Check out that wallpaper.
Hope and Elizabeth at The Dove. Check out that wallpaper.

Bitsy’s actual birthday is November 2nd, but this Saturday night was the blow-out bash held at The Dove Parlour–and yes, that’s “parlour” spelled the proper, British way. I’d been to The Dove a time or two, and I’m happy to report that Saturday night did not disappoint. Situated in the West Village, The Dove has all the trappings of a top tier Victorian brothel–crimson flocked wallpaper, ceilings with gilded molding, couches upon which to recline in shall we say a supine state and yes, cocktails with deliciously wicked names like the one I ordered, The Cherry Tart. As for Elizabeth, she looked absolutely stunningly sublime. Translation: smokin’.

Afterward, we decamped to decidely less posh environs, The Pyramid Club on Avenue A. The Pyramid offers two dance floors. On weekends, the upper one features 80’s hits and the lower level caters to the goth folks. If you’re thinking 80’s retro dance music equates to the PTA crowd, you haven’t yet ventured out to The Pyramid. The DJ’s two…um…performance artists were a master and gimp decked out in classic leather bondage gear. The pantomimed B/S was all in good fun until the head honcho–I guess we’ll call him Master Dude–took the theme way over the top by spewing a mouthful of water (God, I hope it was water) on not only Gimp Boy but on the rest of us, too. At the risk of coming off as out of touch, I have to say I’m in no way sympatico with the spitting. Frankly, even before the spitting, I’m really not sure what this quasi comical duo added. I mean, couldn’t we just dance? That spitting was apparently part of the act, an act paid for with my cover dollars, is well, a lot to wrap my mind around. It’s one thing to charge me a cover, but then to use said cover to support spitting on me is well, not positioning me to be your repeat customer.

Nothing like champagne on a champagne occasion. Elizabeth gets the party started by pouring out the champers.
Nothing like champagne on a champagne occasion. Elizabeth gets the party started by pouring out the champers.

Yes, I get that “White Wedding” was playing when said episode occurred. And okay, maybe Master Dude was channeling Billy Idol. I don’t know and frankly, I don’t care. Generally I’m a “live and let live” person, but spitting on me, well, that crosses a line.

Memo to Master Dude: the next time you role play B/S scenarios with your Gimp, kindly have the courtesy to confine any body fluid exchanges, including spittle, to the privacy of your respective caves. Memo to Pyramid Club: you might really not want to invite a lawsuit as this being New York, that dance floor probably included more than one attorney.

Elizabeth and Liz bringing back...sultry.
Elizabeth and Liz bringing back...sultry.

On the positive side, the tunes were top notch and yes, we rocked the house. It’s been a while since I’ve “walked like an Egyptian,” let alone felt like it was “raining men.” In retrospect, though, the piece de resistance of the evening was trudging back to the subway with Elizabeth and Liz Maverick, our styling dresses completely sweat-soaked, our feet swelling out of our totally hot but by now totally painful shoes. But then the best part of any night out is the friends who share it with you.

Happy Birthday Month, Elizabeth. May this be your best year yet!

Hugs,

Hope

Super Dooper Tuesday, Election Wrap Up

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Okay, after I pulled what my buddy Liz Maverick is affectionately referring to as the Big Red Lever I more or less cruised through Election Tuesday waiting for the evening’s festivities to start. For me, said festivities meant a short subway trek out to Brooklyn where Megan Frampton of Risky Regencies fame and her husband, Scott, graciously agreed to host an Election Night party.

Elizabeth Kerri Mahon, Leanna Hieber, and Hope give their various "Price is Right" model imitations.
Elizabeth Kerri Mahon, Leanna Hieber, and Hope give their various "Price is Right" model imitations. Can I be Janice--please?

Now I like to keep this blog not only bipartisan but apolitical, unless of course you want to debate the latest trends–in shoes. Peep toe booty: fashion forward brilliance or cruel joke played upon those of us who actually have to uh…walk outside in actual snow?

In this case I can’t dish on the fancy footwear because this being a roll-up your sleeves and plunk down on pillows on the floor kind of affair, most of us took our shoes off. So, I’ll do what I do (second) best, dish on yes, the food!

The Freedom Fries were a tad soggy by the night’s end, but the apple pie more than held its own. Fortunately we were all backing the same ticket, so no Humble Pie or crow need be served, and we could have our cheese sans the…whine. The Swirl cheesecake was Obama-licious and the McCain Fried Chicken was well, one tough old bird.

And yes, we partied like it was 1999 and then some!

Scott and Megan Frampton, our Fearless Hosts.
Scott and Megan Frampton, our Fearless Hosts.

By the time mes amies Leanna Hieber, Elizabeth Kerri Mahon, Liz Maverick, and Elizabeth’s visiting British friend, Simon, made it back into the city, it was well after three in the morning and yes, in my neighborhood, there was actual dancing in the streets, accompanied by “steel drum” playing on the newspaper stands. Tired but replete, we said our good nights and went our separate ways, joyous in the knowledge that the American Dream isn’t a myth, not hardly.

Hope

Halloween Wrap Up

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This year was my very first Halloween in the Big Apple, and I’m happy to report, it did not disappoint. I kicked off the day with a trip to Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx with my good writer buddy and Halloween enthusiast, Leanna Hieber. It was a gorgeous fall day, crisp but not cold. The colors were phenomenal, positively jewel-toned. Many of the monuments, notably the celebrated Woolworth tomb, include stained glass windows a la Tiffany, which were breathtaking to behold. Creepy though it may sound to some yes, we had a picnic. And yes, it was fun. I could say more but to save my typing fingers, check out Leanna’s Blog for the truly awesome photos.

Liz Maverick and Hope (as Goth Snow White).
Liz Maverick as Geisha Goldilocks and Hope as Goth Snow White.
Marianne, Hope, Leanna, and Stacey as fairytale femmes a la Goth.
From left to right, Marianne, Hope, Leanna, Stacey and Liz as fairytale femmes a la Goth.

Then it was back to Manhattan for a quick transformation (note: not transfusion). First stop: the Halloween Parade with my fellow Goth fairytale femmes: Leanna, Stacey Agdern, and the Rebels of Romance, Liz Maverick and Marianne Mancusi. Re Leanna as Dead Little Miss Muffett, check out those choppers!

The parade, though slow moving, was well worth the wait. The piece de resistance for me: the skeleton puppets, hulking dudes operated by multiple human hands (at least I think they were human). We rounded out the evening with a post-parade party in Murray Hill hosted by our good friends at Pacific TV. Morgan and her hubby put us through our paces playing trivia games long past the Witching Hour. Note to Self: less book reading, more TV watching and PEOPLE Magazine perusing.

Hope and Liz strut their stuff.
Hope and Liz strut their stuff.

On Saturday night, I joined friends at the Metropolitan Museum of Art where rock legend Patti Smith celebrated All Saints Day with an evening of poetry reading and of course, music.  Afterward, it was dinner at Les Halles on Park Avenue South. For me, the steak au poivre with frittes and yes, Bearnaise sauce, thank you very much! Finally, home for a soothing cup of peppermint tea, a quick glance at the second half of SNL and then, yes, bed.

Even a party ghoul needs her beauty sleep.

"Those trivia questions were pretty...hair raising."
"Hey, those trivia questions were pretty...hair raising."

To paraphrase the remarkable Patti Smith: to all our saints, to the unsaintly saints, both living and dead.

Hope

Laughing Out Loud (LOL)

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Last night my buddy Elizabeth Kerri Mahon of Scandalous Women blog fame and I turned out for the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s reception for uber actor, Benicio Del Toro.  The event was held at The Apartment on the 24th floor of the swank Hudson Hotel.  The hors d’oeuvres were fab, the white wine perfectly chilled, and the crowd styling.  But where oh where was the guest of honor?
From left to write, Hope, Stacey, Liz, Leanna, Elizabeth and Marianne celebrate Hope's birthday in style.
From left to um...write, Hope, Stacey, Liz, Leanna, Elizabeth and Marianne celebrate Hope's birthday in style.

Fortunately Elizabeth is a great date.  We noshed and chatted each up for a full two hours.  All the while I kept vigilant Famous Person watch on the room’s only entrance.

At least I thought I was vigilant.  Coming up on 10:00 PM and still no Benicio, it was pretty clear he must be sequestered in some VIP suite.  Or maybe he’d decided to take his entourage out for a night on the town?  Oh well, c’est la vie.  Give me an unlimited supply of mini crab cakes and yes, a second glass of wine, and well, after a while, I’m just happy to be there.

Elizabeth and I were deep into our current topic of conversation when the young woman standing next to us interrupted to ask, “Did you see Benicio? ” Her tone implied they were best buds, possibly even related.

“He was here!”  My eyes darted like a pinball machine gone beserk.  So much for playing it cool.

“Oh, yes.”  She nodded with lazy-lidded self-assurance, her smile so satisfied it was positively post-coital.  “Earlier, for a half hour.  He’s gone now.”

So I ask you, how does a person, say me, manage to stand in the same (modest-size) room with Benicio Del Toro for a full thirty minutes and manage to miss him entirely ?!?

But then Mercury is in Retrograde.  It’s the only explanation, or at least the only one I’m willing to entertain.  (The alternate one being that I am a complete idiot)!  You see, Mercury isn’t just in any ole Retrograde but  retrograde in my Sun Sign of Libra.   Allow me to take this opportunity to express my advance thanks for your support.  Seriously.  Last week my laptop hard drive crashed.  The other day I ordered, or tried to order, replacement bags for my vaccuum cleaner.  First online, then via the 800 number.  It didn’t go well.  Suffice it to say I’m looking into weaving them by hand.

Watcha gonna do?  Mercury goes into Retrograde just three times a year though when you’re in it, it certainly feels longer.  October 14th, the end of this quarter’s phase, isn’t that far away though personally I’m holding off on signing any contracts and purchasing electronics like say, that laptop I now need until October 20th.  I believe in giving Mercury Retrograde a broad berth.

In the meantime, I’m practicing self-therapy in the form of LOL–laughing out loud.  How many of us include “LOL” in our emails, not to mention all those smiley face emoticons, and yet rarely practice either?  Maybe we can’t literally laugh our problems away but for sure a good chuckle can go a long way in cushioning the blow.

I was walking along Central Park the other day when one of the carriage drivers called out to an apparently insufficiently cheery passerby, “What’s up wich you, boss?  Did you suck lemons for breakfast or what?  Give that puss a rest and smile, why dontcha?”

Hope mugs for the camera with Mr. Wall Street, a very ghoulish guy.
Hope mugs for the camera with Mr. Wall Street, a very ghoulish guy.
Good advice when you think of it.  To whit, see the picture of me mugging for the camera with Mr. Wall Street.  Last Friday my friend Dee and I were strolling the West Village, killing time before a dinner reservation came due, when we ran into this ghoulishly funny fellow stationed outside a local restaurant.  As for the group shot of my birthday bash at the Brandy Library last Thursday, well, I’m really not priming to punch someone out, promise!

Few things in life are free.  Fortunately laughter is still one of them.  So go ahead live it up, kick back, and have a laugh on me.

Hope

Keeping it Real

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Elizabeth Kerri Mahon, Liz Maverick and Hope celebrate Liz's birthday in style.
Elizabeth Kerri Mahon, Liz Maverick and Hope celebrate Liz's birthday in style.

I recently met a female writer buddy for Indian food in the West Village.  Over a leisurely dinner of vegetable samosas, curried shrimp, and palak peneer, we chatted about a host of topics–our current writing projects (a given), restaurants, a lecture she’d  attended that day addressing psychoanalytic perspectives on attraction and mating, an award she’d just received for her excellent blog on women in history, and the upcoming national presidential election,  including yes, The Palin Factor.  After exhausting these topics, we took the conversation down a notch–okay, several notches–to yes, men and dating.

Elizabeth and Hope exchange serious looks.
Elizabeth and Hope exchange serious looks.

No matter how balding, paunchy and yes, middle-aged a man may be, no matter that his job may suck or that he may not have a job at all, he still operates on the principle that he has a God given right to date twenty-somethings and models.   

It seems that while my friend and I write fiction, a disturbing number of single men are living it.

Case in point, my friend recently attempted to fix up her attractive, got-it-going-on male co-worker with her attractive got-it-going-on female writer friend.  The man, who works in the finance industry, was so open to the fix-up that on his lunch break he pulled out his Blackberry and went to said writer’s web site.  Sufficiently intrigued, he went on to read her bio, which briefly mentions her graduate degree.  Finishing, he turned back to my friend, smile dropping, and said, “Sorry, but she’s too smart.”

Okay, so once a woman is over thirty-five, dumb is what, the new sexy? 

Pu-lease. 

On the extremely off-chance any single men are perusing this post, listen up, guys.  Whether you’re in your 30’s, 40’s, 50’s or older, the time has come to get real about this dating-slash-life stuff.  You are not going to end up with a model or an A-list actress.  You are not even going to start out with one.  Even if Brad Pitt was to be taken completely out of the picture, even if you were to step in and be Angelina Jolie’s shoulder-to-cry-on, her rock, she is still not going to have you.  Ditto for supermodel Heidi Klume and A-list actress, Jennifer Aniston.  Your chance of scoring with these babes is not only remote.  It is nonexistent.

These women are simply not going to have you, so get over it.

I realize that for many of you this comes as a shock, one that you will need some time, anywhere from the next few minutes to the rest of your lives to absorb.  The good news is that there are actual, real life women who maybe just maybe might be persuaded to have you or at least to take you for a test drive–think Zip Car versus the longer-term commitment of say, Hertz.  Generally speaking we’re Manhattan single women 35 and older, and as a cohort we’re well-heeled, well kept, well read, and well employed.  We’re smart.  And sexy.  Like Forest Gump’s peas and carrots, like peanut butter and chocolate in a Reese’s cup, smart and sexy aren’t mutually exclusive.  They can go together.  In real life, they usually do.  Still have doubts?  Then check out these photos of my buddy, Liz Maverick’s birthday bash at Shalel last Saturday.

Dorchester author, Leanna Hieber takes Liz's Steampunk goggles for a test run.

Real life isn’t so bad, now is it?

Hope