The secret is out! Let the celebration begin!

The only link you need right here, because, if you have Amazon Prime, the e-book is FREE. Who loves FREE? If you don’t have Prime, the e-book is $1.99, but there are lots of options, so, again, look here.

I want to thank everyone who helped make this happen, from my crit partners and beta readers who helped shape the book, to my fabulous agent who always has my back even when I’m a nightmare, to my early readers who buoyed me, to my editor at Lake Union, Chris Werner, a truly marvelous person who has made me feel so welcome in my new publishing home. And also the rest of the team at Lake Union, thanks for making my story shine, wrapping it in the most gorgeous cover ever, and sending it into the universe on a rocket ship.

That’s it. That’s all I’ve got. Now where is the champagne…

Now that Buddy’s back on his favorite plum tree, serenading us every dawn, summer is officially in full swing. And, boy oh boy, did the weather gods get the memo. We’ve been in monsoon mode since mid-April, a time when the norm is 75 degrees and crisp spring air. It’s sticky and icky.

Luckily, my constant presence is not required in the garden this time of year. Sure, I potter around, pulling the odd weed, harvesting a few sugar snap peas, lettuces, and the last of the asparagus. But most of the plants are in growth mode and all I need to do is stand to the side and admire them.

In a month’s time, I will be inundated with produce and my kitchen will resemble a factory. I’ll be cleaning, chopping, freezing, blanching, canning and jamming! But not yet.

Because art imitates life, my writing is in much the same place as my garden. I’ve dealt with the copyedits and proofreading of True Places, my next book, and am awaiting the final cover. (!!!!) Since, well, forever, I’ve been working on What Comes Next—two projects in fact, to be submitted together, like a twofer. One of the proposals, a story of obsession and fraud, is pretty much good to go. The other, an immigrant/ WWII story, is almost there. Once my agent submits the proposals, there will be nothing to do but wait for what we hope will be a green light on one or both projects. And then I will, you know, have to write a book or two.

Any bets I hear from my editor when my garden is generating 20 pounds of produce a day?

Good thing I love my work, both in the garden and at my desk. In the meantime, I have reading to catch up on, and daydreaming, too. Isn’t that what summer has always been for? Long, carefree days when your bathing suit never dried, you ate lunch in a treehouse and stayed up late playing tag and chasing fireflies until, at last, you were called inside by your exhausted parents.

What are you looking forward to this summer? Homegrown tomatoes? The beach? Freeze tag?