Okay, this is showing my age but a long time ago I used to watch a cartoon called Quick Draw McGraw. One of its characters was Snuffles the bloodhound, who would only help Quick Draw and his sidekick Baba-Looey after he was given a biscuit. Once he'd popped that treat in his mouth, he'd moan in joy, hug himself euphorically, then levitate above the stage before floating back to the floor in an orgy of treat-satiated nirvana.
That's me today, my little buckaroos, my dudes and dudettes, my. . . (cough)
Sorry. Reining myself in here.
Still, that is me today. Just For Kicks is hitting the shelves as we speak. This is the day toward which-- between writing, revising, line edits, copy edits and galleys--I've been working for two years now, the day when I finally get to see the results of my hard work shining out at me from a supermarket rack or a bookstore shelf. It's too late to worry about what I might have done to make it better. Too soon to start worrying will it make this list or that list. It's simply a day to celebrate the fruits of my labor.
I hope you all enjoy Carly and Wolfgang's story. I'm not the least bit shy about saying I love it, myself. And while I sincerely hope that thundering hordes of readers will stampede to their nearest bookstore to pick it up, that's something else I'm not going to sweat today. Huh-uh, no, ma'am.
I'm too busy admiring that book on the shelf, moaning in joy and hugging myself.
Order it online today!