D.R.A.W – Raising Awareness


I just got home from my signing tour of Detroit and Chicago this past weekend.  Even though I’m exhausted and have eleventy-billion things to do, I had a BLAST!  As you know, I like to do a list of “Things I learned in…” whenever I get home from an epic weekend.

But first, Love and Lists comes out in 8 days.  EIGHT DAYS!!!!

8 days






The pre-order link is up on Amazon so make sure to order it!

For some reason, Amazon has it listed as having 61 pages.  FALSE!  L&L will be a full length novel so I’m not sure why they have that listed.  Never fear, you’ll have plenty of Gavin 🙂  Also, it will be available on Barnes & Noble, Kobo and iTunes, and of course paperback.


Without further ado: Things I Learned in Detroit/Chicago:

1. If I ever think it would be a great idea to take my kids to a signing – punch me right in the face.  Hard.

2.  If you’re at one of my signings and you see a creepy hand come out from under the table, it’s probably just one of my kids reaching for your ankle.  Or a hand growing out of my vagina.  Either way, don’t be afraid.

3.  My kids WILL throw packs of Skittles at you.  And it will hurt.  But Jack Wilder will throw them back harder and I will point and laugh when my kids cry.

4.  My kids will photobomb every picture.  EVERY.  PICTURE.










5.  If I ever think it would be a great idea to take my kids to a signing – punch me right in the face.  Hard.

6.  I will put a pair of size 4X thongs on over my jeans that say “Big Girls Do It Better” and it will be awesome.

big girls









7. Dolphin rape is a real thing.

8. When someone mentions “dolphin rape” during a signing, I will YouTube every video I can find and show it to everyone.  Be afraid.

9. I will decide that everyone needs to be aware of dolphin rape and make a PSA video about it.  During a signing.  And it will be epic:

10. After a Long Island Iced Tea and 2 beers, I will agree with Sarah Hansen that getting a tattoo is an epic idea at midnight.










11. Having your beta readers with you when you get this tattoo, is a very wise decision.  Especially when the first stencil he put on my arm had the quote wrong.

12.  Getting a drunk tattoo was surprisingly a wise decision now that I’m sober.

photo (42)







13. When I find out my hotel room has a sitting room with a door to the bedroom, I will burst out of said doors singing “THE HILLS ARE ALIIIIIIIIVE, WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC!”










14. When Jasinda Wilder sends you a text that you should come down to the bar and eat a “Cave of Cheese” with her, you should take her up on that offer.  Sitting alone in your hotel room eating Ruffles and watching the Emmy’s is exactly as depressing as it sounds.


Weepy Jesus


If you’re easily offended by religious humor, you should probably stop reading this blog post right now.  And maybe go take a bath in holy water just to be on the safe side.

For those who have stuck around, you’re now all going to hell.  I’m driving the bus so it should be fun ride.  Anyhoo, a few months ago, my brother-in-law and his new wife bought their first home.  My husband went over there to wish them well and check out the new digs.  Normally, when you go to the new home of someone you love, you are supposed to take them a gift.  My husband failed.  My brother-in-law and sister-in-law decided to punish him by sending him home with something.  Something they found in their garage when they moved in.  The previous owners left him behind for a reason.  And now he’s in our home.

Everyone, say hello to Weepy Jesus:










As soon as he walked in the door, our conversation went like this:

Me: WTF is that?

Hubs: It was a gift from bro and sister-in-law.

Me: That’s not a gift.  Do they hate us?  That’s just mean.

Hubs: What?  I think he’s cute.  I’m calling him Weepy Jesus.

Me: No.  Take it back.  I DO not want that thing in our house.

Hubs:  Shhhh, Weepy Jesus can hear you.

Since that fateful night a few months ago, Weepy Jesus has graced the shelf in our room (Not by my choice.  I wanted to wrap him up and give him back to BIL and SIL, but hubs wouldn’t let me.)  Do you have any idea how disturbing it is to know that Weepy Jesus is watching you sleep?  Among other things.  When those “other things” happen, I feel it’s only right that Weepy Jesus look the other way.








Sorry, Weepy Jesus.  Nothing to see here.  It will be over soon.

Tonight, brilliance struck.  Well, maybe not brilliance.  More like a poor excuse for procrastination and maybe one too many 5 hour energy shots.

Me: I feel like Weepy Jesus doesn’t get to see enough of the house.  We should take pictures of him in his new favorite places.

Hubs: I knew there was a reason why I married you.

Me:  I kind of want to take a picture of Weepy Jesus sleeping next to Spawn.  Does that make me a bad mother?

Hubs:  I feel like this is totally wrong and totally awesome all at once.  I don’t know what to feel.

Me: Shit.  I don’t have a flash on my iPad.  Ooooh, look, Weepy Jesus likes to look at fish.










Me:  Maybe he’ll turn those 6 little fish into 20 and we can feed a village.

Hubs:  That was so wrong.

Me: It’s like you don’t even know me.

Hubs: Still, that’s an epic picture.  He’s totally staring at the fish.

Me: Ok, here you go Weepy Jesus.  Cuddle next to Spawn.  Fuck.  Why does your iPhone suck?  This picture is too blurry.

Me: *laughing, snorting, giggling*

Hubs: *grabs the phone from me and tries taking it himself*

Me: *more laughing, snorting, giggling*

Hubs: We just took 20 pictures with the flash on and Spawn hasn’t even blinked.

Me: This picture still sucks.

Hubs: *turns bright, overhead light on in the room*

Me: OMG I can’t believe you just turned the light on while she’s sleeping!  *laughing, snorting, giggling* Never mind.  This is a great picture!








Me: I think Weepy Jesus should take a look at my current work in progress.  He might be able to give me a few tips.

Hubs: No, he should totally pose with the Grand Theft Auto poster I got today.

Me: That’s just dumb.

Hubs:  Weepy Jesus hangin’ with some hookers and thugs.

Me: That is wrong on so many levels.

Hubs: Have you not been paying attention what we’ve been doing for the last 30 minutes?










Weepy Jesus: Why do you have ‘Oh God!’ in here so much? It’s redundant.  And why are people always exclaiming my name? Sometimes people just say it.  Or ask me a question.  It doesn’t always have to be a shout.

Me: If you don’t like the chapter, just say so.  You don’t have to be rude.

Weepy Jesus: I prefer historical novels.

Hubs: Are you talking to Weepy Jesus?

Me: He doesn’t like my chapter.  He’s totally judging me.

Hubs: We should probably stop standing so close to one another.  When lightening strikes, at least one of us will live to tell the tale of Weepy Jesus and his night of fun.

And that brings us to now and my need to tell all of you that this happened.  You know how when you read the stuff I write in Chocolate Lovers and you say “Oh my God, real people don’t act like that.  No one is that stupid.”  False.  WE are that stupid.

*Update: as I was writing this blog post, my phone rang and it was hubs.

Me: Are you seriously calling me from upstairs right now?

Hubs: I am.  I was just calling to remind you to bring Weepy Jesus back upstairs with you.

Me: Oh my God.

Hubs: Yes, that too.  Where IS Weepy Jesus now, anyway?

Me: I don’t know.  I haven’t seen him.  I think he might have finally realized this wasn’t the house for him.  Or he’s outside smoking after reading my chapter.  BOOM!

Hubs: That’s just sad.

Me: Weepy Jesus thinks it’s awesome.  Go to sleep.  Rest easy.  I shall find Weepy Jesus and bring him back to his rightful place on the shelf in our room.

Hubs: Poor Weepy Jesus.


Love and Lists Teaser!










Fifteen days left until Love and Lists is stuffed in your box.  Boom!  Are you excited?!  Make sure you pre-order from Amazon so you can be cooler than all of your friends and read it before them:

In the meantime, since I love you all so much, here’s a little teaser to tide you over.

Love and Lists Teaser #1

ferret copy







“Really, it’s not necessary.  I’ve got it under control.”

Uncle Drew laughs and shakes his head at me.  “You’ve puked in front of her, wrapped your schlong in a bow, and showed it to the entire city.  You don’t have it under control.  What we have here is a failure to know what the fuck you’re doing when it comes to chicks.”

Getting up from my desk, he walks over to the dry erase board on my wall and uncaps a marker.  He writes moist folds in big, black letters across the top.

“Oh my God, erase that,” I complain.

“Fuck your mother, I’m not erasing it.  This is important,” Uncle Drew says before writing role-playing right underneath it.

“What temperature is your ball sack running at now?” he asks, turning around and narrowing his eyes at me.

“What?  I don’t know.  Why are you asking me this?”

“Dude, to effectively produce sperm, your testicles need to be at least two degrees cooler than your core temperature.  You should ice those little nuggets.”

Is this really happening right now?

“Or he could just stick a pair of sunglasses on his little balls.  That would be cute!” Aunt Jenny laughs and claps her hands together in glee.

“Ha-ha, totally!  A little pair of Hello Kitty sunglasses and a bonnet for his un-fucking-cool testicles,” Uncle Drew adds with a laugh.

“Can we please stop talking about my testicles?”

“You’re such a buzz kill, dude.  Okay, next.  Gag the groin ferret,” he states.

“I have no idea what that means,” I complain, watching him write the words on the board.

“Um, hello?  Whack off.  You should be doing it at least eight to twelve times a day at this point.”

I wince thinking about how I spent my evening after the ribbon cutting ceremony.  I’m pretty sure I will never jerk off again.

“Can I bring out the condoms and banana now?  Pretty please?” Aunt Jenny begs.

“I know how to put a condom on. There’s no need for that,” I tell her with a roll of my eyes.

“Are you sure about that?  Last I heard, you were using them as balloons,” Uncle Drew says with a laugh.

“Oh my God, I was FOUR when that happened.  It stopped being funny twenty years ago!” I complain.

“I just thought of another one, Drew.  Make sure you do hallucinogenics before and after sex.  You don’t want your muscles tightening up on you,” Aunt Jenny explains.

“Are you saying I should take drugs to have sex with Charlotte?  I don’t even understand what is going on right now.”

Uncle Drew shakes his head at both of us before turning back to the board.

“She means calisthenics.  Although a little pot might be just the ticket for you.  If you get really stoned, it won’t even matter that you have a small penis and have no idea how to please a woman,” he says with a laugh.

“Fuck off, old man.  I don’t have a small penis.  And I know how to please a woman,” I fire back.

“Really?  Quick, what are the ten erogenous zones on a woman?  GO!” he shouts.

“I love when Drew touches my erroneous zones,” Aunt Jenny says with a sigh.

Ignoring her, I run through every article I’ve ever read in a magazine or online.  “GAAAAH!  Fuck!  Um, neck, lips, feet, inner thighs—”

“BZZZZZZZZZZ. WRONG, FUCKER!” Drew interrupts.

“What?  Those were totally right.  And I wasn’t done yet,” I argue.

“Those are wrong.  Want to know what the ten erogenous zones on a woman are?  Number one: vagina.  Number two: it doesn’t fucking matter if you’re touching her vagina right!” Uncle Drew shouts.  “You are a disgrace.  Your mother should have swallowed.”