Going to the Greek....

By Jeanne Adams

When I was growing up, among the many things I wanted to be was Greek.

Seriously.

I hear you laughing at my blond, very English/Scotch self, but I did.

Back then, my BFF was from a HUGE Greek-American family. She had this thick, gloriously black hair and sparkling black eyes, which I envied and although she only had one brother, she had a legion of incredibly handsome cousins and uncles and so on.

If I couldn't BE Greek, I wanted to grow up to marry one. Preferably her cousin, Anthony. (The picture there on the right bears a striking resemblance to the studly Anthony. Do you begin to see why I wanted to be Greek?)

I know that your imagination sometimes makes things bigger and more handsome than they might have been, but I found an old picture the other day (too faded to scan) and Anthony? Well, he's just as stunning as I remembered. Ha!

That family was like Nia Vardalos's characters in My Big Fat Greek Wedding in some ways. There was Saturday Greek school, and big picnics and festivals at the church, and lots and lots of baklava.

When my BFF's family, along with her long-widowed grandmother would go to Greece for a month in the summer I would look after her Grandmother's dog. The dog was a massive, enormous German Shepherd named Princess. Most of the neighborhood was terrified of this dog. She didn't care for most of the 'hood either, so the feeling was mutual.

For some reason however, Princess and I, we got along just fine.

It could be that I just loved her, or I was smitten with my paycheck: Mrs. G would give me $10 and bake me a whoooolllle tray of baklava in return for walking Princess twice a day, feeding her and so on throughout that month.

That baklava was astounding. I can still taste it - fresh and magnificent. It was the flaky kind, home-made, with the cloves piercing the top layer of phyllo dough, and cut into big, honey-dripping triangles. O. M. Gosh.
Sheer heaven.

And while I never learned to like stuffed grape leaves, I learned to like pretty much anything else food-related that had the word "Greek" attached to it. Soulvlaki. Moussaka. Greek salad.

So when it came to hero material, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that Davros Gianiakopulos popped into my consciousness fully formed - like Athena, patroness of Athens, sprang from the head of her father, Zeus. Grins.

Unlike the fabled Anthony of my childhood, Dav is dark-haired and dark-eyed. I kind of pictured him as built like a tall version of Vin Diesel, with John Stamos's coloring and wicked smile.

This is all very well, but hero's like the famed legends of old, need a weakness, something which shows their humanity, their vulnerability. Dav has that. Along with the ability to make pots and pots of money too.

Now the woman he loves, Carrie McCray, is pretty sharp herself. She's an entrepreneur, a gallery owner, and a sharp enough businesswoman to dig out of the financial hole (and PR nightmare) her late husband left her with in Deadly Little Secrets. Dav's had a thing for her for years, unrequited, of course, since she was married.

Now, as Deadly Little Lies comes to the shelves, Carrie is finally out from under the cloud her late-husband left, and free to make some new decisions.

Pretty cool, right?

Yep, as long as you don't get crosswise of Dav's enemies. Bwahahha!

So all this fun with Greeks, and Greece was like going back in my own personal history. I got to re-learn some long-forgotten words in Greek, as well as some new curse-words as well. Writing Dav was an absolute blast.

You see, it turns out one of my current BFF's is also Greek. You'll see that she's credited in the front of both Deadly Little Secrets and Deadly Little Lies, for her help.

Y'know, it must be some kind of homing beacon, or longing in my soul, because in every stage of my life, I've had a friend who was Greek. I like that.

Gus Portokalos, from My Big Fat Greek wedding would, I'm sure, attribute it to some long forgotten Greek Ancestor.

He'd probably also figure out some way that my name was a declension of a Greek noun, or related to a Greek word in some way.


Gus was right though. We owe a LOT to the Greeks. Warfare, sure, but art and music and democracy, a lot of broad-based theology, international commerce, olive oil, pine nuts, and marathons.

Hey, they gave us the Olympics; a chance every four years to oogle really, really fit, good looking people (men and women) wearing spandex. What's not to love?

Of course in ancient days they would have run that marathon nekkid, but now...you know, global warming, skin cancer...they go for spandex.

Not complaining. Really. I'm not. The oogling's still pretty good.

Every where you look, from architecture to fashion's strappy sandals and fold-filled-dresses, to the laurel leaves and torches on most of our money (in the USA), the Greeks have put their mark on even our distant-in-time-culture. Are you a Sorority sister? Fraternity guy? You're a Greek then, right? It's allll over us. Pretty darn cool.

Now you know the "secret" behind my darling Dav. He was the grown up version of my crush on the (probably long-since-gone-bald) gorgeous Anthony.

He's the technicolor fantasy version, complete with tuxedo and wicked, gleaming white smile.

One of the joys of being a writer is, I can bring him to life as hot and virile and freshly minted as that long ago crush.

See? Part of me still wants to be Greek.

I even had a gyro for lunch too.

So what about you? Is there a culture other than your own that you really, really love?

I have a friend that wanted to be Jewish because he thought the traditions were so incredibly cool and solid.

And in Eva Ibbottson's wonderful Countess Below Stairs (Remember that bit, Anna C?) one of the characters, the delightful Honorable Olive, wanted desperately to be a Russian.

Is there a country that calls to you, as if you once lived there, or might one day go and feel "at home"?

Joanie, I think you said you felt this way about Ireland when you went there, and I know my friend who's barely a 10th Irish felt so much that way when she stepped on Irish soil that she nearly didn't leave!

Or maybe the wildness of the Steppes calls to you, or the tropical forests of the Congo, or the mountains of Peru.

I'm not talking about the day-to-day living there, or the inconvenience of living in a different land, I'm wondering what culture and tradition calls to your soul.

Care to share?

(And DeDe P. if you're out there somewhere, thanks for being my friend. Grins.)

LAUNCH PARTY!!!! WOOT! T-minus 6 days..5..

by Jeanne Adams

WOOHOOOOOOOO!!!!
<It's LAUNCH DAY for DEADLY LITTLE LIES!!!

And yes, I AM shouting. Grins. I'm going to apologize right up front for shouting and happy dancing, and being just a liiiittttle bit immodest.

This would be the reason: Deadly Little Lies was the book that almost wasn't. It was written during one of the darker periods in my life as my father's health was failing, and I had a difficult time getting it completed.

(BTW, Thank you again, to all the Banditas and BB's who helped me through all that. Ya'll quite simply rock!)

Of course, once I got it done, I had to edit all the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth out of it before I turned it in. There was a LOT of that. I mean, a LOT.

And, ya'know, heroes in modern stories just shouldn't gnash their teeth. Really. Bad for their teeth, right? Grins. And my hero, Davros, called Dav, my dashing Greek shipping magnate, has beautiful teeth. I couldn't endanger those pearly whites!
Then in edits, I had to be sure I had the timeline straight (Oy!) and, when I made Dav, and Carrie, the heroine, go down some dark, spooky and very forgotten tunnels, I had to be sure I brought them back out the SAME WAY. (EEK!)

I actually had to make a map of the tunnels so that I was sure I had done it right. Good thing I like to draw because MAN was that complicated! Yikes!

For those of you who write, I know you feel my pain, right? Right? Please say you do, and if you don't lie, and make me feel better, okay?

For those readers who aren't also writers, this is how it goes sometimes. You feel like you're pulling the book out of your imagination a struggling word at a time. Ex-haust-ing.

Then you turn it in. And you wait. And you get nervous. And you decide it's the absolute worst book you ever wrote and you're going to die of mortification when it comes out and bombs and....and...and....

My only comfort was the memory of hearing La Nora (Roberts) say that sometimes, in the middle of the book, she'll call a friend and complain that she's never written such terrible schlock in her life, and it's the worst pile of (expletive deleted) she's ever seen.

Yeah, but she's La Nora, my errant thoughts would remind me. So I would resume my pacing.

Insomnia.

Nervous Wreck.

I considered taking up serious drinking as a contact sport.

Grins. But I really like to drink to CELEBRATE, so.....

Much to my (immense) delight, and relief, DEADLY LITTLE LIES received a TOP PICK from Romantic Times Magazine. The reviewer wrote:

"Non -stop action and heart-stopping danger make this book unputdownable!"

Now, I don't know about you, but unputdownable sounds pretty darn good. I don't know if it's a real word, but I don't care. Now you can understand my relief. Other reviewers have said they stayed up late to finish it in one gulp.

WHEW!!! Thank heavens.

But my insomnia had actually started early on, in the production stage, after the "get the timeline straight" call from my editor. Did you know that authors do cover quotes? I'm sure you read those. At least all of us newer authors HOPE you read them. If you don't read them, please don't tell me.

If you do....what do you think of them? Do you ever take a look at a book based on the cover quote?

Oh, and to give you further insight into my insecurity, you realize that those much-more-famous-than-me authors actually have to read the book, ahead of time, and quote on it?

As I approached that stage, I was all but ready to throw in the writing towel. I was sure my colleagues would laugh...or worse, pity my poor efforts. I was a flat, wrung out mess.

One of my all-time favorite NYTimes Bestselling authors, Dianna Love, is going to here in the Lair in a week or so. She's written innumerable fabulous books, both on her own and with Sherrilyn Kenyon. One of my all-time favorites of hers is Blood Trinity, the first in the Belador Series.

So you can imagine that I nearly keeled over and died when she gave me a quote for the cover of Deadly Little Lies, calling it: "...an edge of your seat read."

(That's Dianna in one of her fabulous Blood Trinity t-shirts, with a fan)

Oh, lawdy, where's my celebratory cocktail? Really, really, relieved. Grateful, and relieved. You see, I had the worst time re-reading this book for edits. Terrible. Usually I sail through all of that. Not. This. Time. So I had to send this book to my colleagues before I gave it a last edit.

HORRORS!!!!

So, imagine my even greater surprise when the 2011 RWA Lifetime Achievement Winner, the inestimable Sharon Sala offered to give me a quote. I felt like both the book and I were a hot mess, but Sharon said I was worried about nothing. She said there was "...sizzle on every page."

SO, now, more than with any other book, I'm in the mood to really celebrate a LAUNCH DAY!!!

Sven! Bring the special Hurricane Earthquake Punch!!! (Hey, we have to also celebrate the fact that the power stayed on in the Lair, in the Writing Caves, and at my house because several of us have Sept. 1 deadlines! And no earthquake damage!)

Paolo!! Bring the hors d'oeuvres! We need sustenance for our Launch Partying.

Demetrius!! Bring the torches! Someone needs to light up these caves....which leads me to giving you a little excerpt. Grins. Dav, the hero, is claustrophobic. His enemy had locked him, and his lady-love in an underground cell. They have to figure a way out....they find a door and...

Dav took a deep breath and started into the tunnel. The light wobbled, then steadied and he could feel the warmth of Carrie's presence at his back. Two steps in, she wrapped her fingers in the loop of his belt. Somehow, the contact was reassuring, bracing. The palpable connection made the dark less horrifying.

Much later, they're both despairing....

"I want to keep going, she insisted. What if there's a way out, just beyond this?" She stopped suddenly and he heard her draw in a shaky breath. "Oh, my God, Dav, what if it's a dead end?"

"Carrie," he kept his voice firm in the face of her rising panic. "I will not allow you to die. I have told you this, yes?" We will find a way out. Now, come and sit down, rest. You can tell me your secrets and I will tell you mine."

In spite of his own fears, Dav makes sure Carrie feels safe. He's really a wonderful hero, without being "too perfect to live" like some heroes are. He gets hurt, bruised, banged up, has a panic attack about being underground (his father used to lock him up as punishment - something to panic about!), and yet, he keeps himself level for her sake. He's kind of like a 21st Century, Greek Indiana Jones in a way.

Although, he's really more Thomas Crown than a McGyver type, but he's smart and he can figure it out.

Carrie on the other hand, is more like McGyver. She's the one with the pocket knife that has 27 tools. She's the one who figures out an alternative exit.

She's more like Annie Walker on Covert Affairs, without being a spy. Or maybe a bit more like the Julia Roberts character, Maggie Carpenter, in Runaway Bride, she is capable, competent, and mechanically inclined, but she's got some scars that keep her wary.

If you read DEADLY LITTLE SECRETS last year, you'll have already met both Davros "Dav" Gianakopulos and Carrie McCray. I hope you liked them and will want to read their story in DEADLY LITTLE LIES.

In my regular form and fashion, things blow up. There's a fairly high body count. Grins. Oh, and did I mention a LOT of twists and turns?


This would be why you need the torches. Ha!

So, grab a flashlight, pen light, mag light or torch, get a Bloody Mary, or a Margarita, or a glass of milk and some of Sven's famous chocolate chip cookies (He stole the recipe from Joanie T - YUM!!!!), and grab a chair and start reading.

Then....riddle me this, spelunkers....

Are you more like Bond or McGyver? Annie Walker (Covert Affairs) or Maggie Carpenter (Runaway Bride)?

What about your Significant Other? Or if you don't have one at the moment, which type do you prefer? The polished, lethal weapon-type like Bond, or the rougher-hewn, all-purpose, get-you-out-of-any-jam like McGyver?

Or in more recent vernacular, are you more like Michael Weston (plan it, execute it) from Burn Notice, or Hank (use what's at hand, make it work) from Royal Pains? And which do you prefer?

Don't even get me started on Neil, the guy from White Collar.....whew!!!

Let's get this party STARRRRRRRTED!!!! Music! Lights!!! Cookies!!! Drinks!!!

A Rose by Any Other Name...Stinks!

Haute Couturier Coco Chanel was once asked, "Where should one wear perfume?"

Chanel's answer? "Where ever you would like to be kissed...."

Mmm, now doesn't THAT conjure up some romantic images? Scent is the strongest inducement to memory. Pheremones drive us to passion, to hate, to attraction..... Humans have used it for centuries to entice, allure, and decorate the body, both for our own pleasure and to attract the opposite sex.

Yeah. I like perfume. Grins.

So it will surprise you that I did something this last week that I haven't done in about five years.

(No, not THAT...jeeez, this is a family blog!)

I bought perfume. Or Eau de Cologne or whatever the heck you call it when it comes in a spritzer rather than a five-hundred-dollar-an-ounce bottle. Grins.

Why, you may ask, did it take me five years to do it when it's so yummy, sexy and wonderful? Ahhhhh, now that's a personal question. Hahaha! But I'm going to tell you anyway.

Let me first make the disclaimer that I really, REALLY adore perfume only when it's correctly applied (that means dabbed not drenched, ladies, and same for you with the cologne, gents!)

Think SUBTLE, people!

I love when you have a scent you can layer with lotion, powder and or perfume. I love when people have a "signature scent" - something associated just with them.

My mother always wore a Coty perfume. I can bring it to mind and memory instantly when I smell it, and it means "Mama" to me. Same with a friend of mine who wears Issey-Miyaki. GORGEOUS scent and smells divine on her. Love that.

Now, to the point.

Perfume hates me. Or maybe it's perfumiers. They add stuff to perfume that makes me itch. I have fair skin, but I'm not allergic to much, nor do things usually irritate me or break me out. I've never considered myself "delicate" in any way when it comes to product or potions or any thing like that.

But perfume is different. There are some of them....ugh. Itchy. Haven't defined the ingredient, and really don't care, but I know which perfumes to avoid.

Then there's the problem of the actual smell. I cannot STAND to smell like a sweet little old lady wearing a strong-enough-to-fell-an-ox floral perfume. (And mind you, there are plenty of young women who are already 70 before they're 30, if you know what I mean. Matronly is a choice, people, not a life-sentence.)

Ahem.

Some perfumes also tend to be very musky and almost dank. Kind of like a crypt. SNORK! (You know me, I have to work a crypt in here SOMEWHERE!!! Besides, in my next book the hero and heroine get locked in a tomb at an abandoned archealogical dig....)

Seriously, there's one perfume I smelled - very popular, evidently - that smells like a musty basement to me.

I have a very sensitive nose and can differentiate a lot of scents. I can do that whole wine thing "..it has a note of saffron, and yet it's fruity, with notes of pear and pineapple..." if I choose to (I don't) because I CAN smell and taste it.

Then there's that personal problem. Yes, now we get to it.

For whatever reason, there are a TON of perfumes that smell fabulous in the bottle, but when I put them on?

Ugh. They smell like battery acid. Bleeeeech.

A very knowledgeable aromatherapist once told me the reason. She said my system was more alkaline rather than the more common, acidic system. There are some reasons for that - I eat my veggies! - but mostly, it's just the way I'm made. Grins. However, perfumes are formulated to appeal to the majority, and the majority have a more acidic system.

When someone with a more alkaline system puts on an acidic perfume? Eeek! You guessed it, it smells like Mr. Yuck Died ...or worse. Bleeech.

I used to wear a wonderful perfume called Victoria, by Victoria's Secret. Gold bottle, cobalt blue cap - wonderful perfume, pretty packaging. It was great. I bought the full line - powder, lotion, perfume. LOVED that stuff.

It was discontinued.

Then I wore a perfume from Tiffany. Wonderful stuff, but then they reformulated it and yes, you guessed it, battery acid. Bleeech!

There are several others I CAN wear, but WON'T:
- the perfume my ex-husband bought for his mistress (Opium);
- the perfume a coworker used to pour on (Obsession);
- and the perfume someone dropped onto my luggage or which burst in someone else's bag and contaminated mine, necessitating it's demise (Burberry). I really liked that luggage. Sigh.

But The Good News!? I nearly forgot! I found a new perfume, Coach Poppy, which actually smells GOOD on me! WOOHOOO!!! Alert the media! Buy Stock! Hide the children...wait, that's something else. Grins.

I tried it on in the store, letting it "wear" all day. It didn't turn musky, or smell bad. Excellent. I went back and tried it again on another day. Allllll good.

FINALLY! New perfume! WOOT! So, if you happen to meet me at a conference and I'm wearing a lovely scent, you can pretty much be sure it's Coach's Poppy. We'll see how it goes....

What about you? Do you like perfume?

Do you have a signature scent?

Do you have several that you like to change around? I have a friend who has 6 or 8 different perfumes and can wear them all with equal ease and delicious smells. (Obviously, I'm jealous of this!)

Do you wear it everyday? Just for special occasions? Or never?

And then there's the perfume ads....grins. Seen the new Bulgari one?

And what about the new trend to having celebrities "create" a fragrance? I don't buy it - if I'm wearing Vera Wang, by golly, it better be a DRESS! And I ain't touchin' Jennifer Lopez....

Give me your thoughts! BTW, I'll be giving away an ARC of the RT TOP PICK for September - my new book, DEADLY LITTLE LIES today, to one lucky perfumier...winner. Just because! It's not due out till Sept. 1, so you'll get it early!

Sniff!! Sniff, sniff, sniff? What perfume are YOU wearing??