When the stars align and your dream, one you’ve held on to for years, becomes real rather than fantasy—the world is brighter. Sights and sounds converge into a symphony, like a masterpiece of music.

And the days and weeks and months rush by in a blur of activity. Communications and editing and deadlines. Then there’s promotional and postings and keeping up on everything. Oh, yeah. I need a Twitter account. What? I don’t Twit. No, no. My friend laughed. It’s Tweet. See. Okay, so there’s that and my web site. My goodness, I need to get something up there, too.

My author copies arrive. I’m beside myself with joy. I dance around. Don’t forget to bring your pen and bookmarks wherever you go, because your friends and acquaintances are eager to support your endeavor and they want their copies of my book signed. By me. Really?

It’s a little overwhelming. I was delusional, thinking all (ha,ha…not as easy as you might think) I had to do was write a decent story, find out if my manuscript was accepted, and get the editing done. On time. Luckily, I’m a little OCD when it comes to deadlines. I’ve always considered myself an excellent student, so submitting ahead of schedule was no surprise. Everything that followed—that was a surprise.

But I wouldn’t give up one single minute of this journey. It is everything I ever imagined, and so much more. The outpouring of love and support leaves me speechless. The encouragement and guidance from fellow authors, a blessing. And my publisher…Bold Strokes Books,  comprises a team of caring individuals who welcomed me with open arms into the BSB family. They are an extraordinary group who are always available to answer my unending newbie questions. I have a lot of them.

Long nights, isolates weekends, and I love the results. I think I do pretty well fitting everything in. I have a busy life. It’s full and rich and fun. Laughter and love abound.

So, now what? People ask. I’m working on number two, Stroke of Fate. And there’s a proposal on the table for number three, then there will be a fourth, and with a little bit of luck and a lot of work, it won’t end. Ever.