The lazy days of summer have given way to the crisp, cooling air of Fall.
Publishers everywhere are looking for Christmas themed reads for this anthology or that book. How does one write a winter, snuggling with the handsome hero story in the middle of summer? Most have a cut off way before the weather turns cooler and the author can wrap their mind around roaring fires, snowy days, rides in a blanket covered sleigh and long slow kisses.
Nope. Can't do it. I'm still in the hot bodies in swim shorts, the beachside bonfire, the smores and seeing how hot and sweaty two bodies can get between the folds of a sleeping bag, inside a tent.
I really don't like majorily hot, I mean 100 degree hot weather, but I don't like the freezing cold either. Fall is perfect. The days are still warm, but the nights are crisp and cold. The colors are brilliant in their reds, organes and golds and I don't have to worry about turning down the heat in the house because I'm having a hot flash.
So while all the other authors are buckling down and writing those great Christmas reads, I'll be sitting in my imaginary lounge chair on the beach in the Carribean somewhere, sipping something fruity and exotic, while Sam, my personal Cabana boy, rubs lotion into my skin...everywhere.
Wake me when it's summer again!
~ Until next month