Hello Everyone!

I want to send out a great big THANK YOU to Samantha Hunter for the invitation to join you all. Or should I admit to my southern Ohio/northern Kentucky roots and say y’all? ;)

I have to admit, the date’s been marked on my calendar for a while, but I wondered what I’d blog about today. Then material fell right into my hands. Or rather smacked me upside the head on a recent drive from Ohio to South Carolina for some much needed beach time. Ahhh, the beach. Great time to go, right? It is—but getting there was... interesting.

HIS PERFECT WOMAN hits the shelves June 9 and to help promote its release and hopefully increase sales (because a portion of the proceeds are being donated to a cancer charity and every sale counts!), I made up goody bags to take to booksellers along the drive there and back. In them I included a copy of MAN WITH A PAST, chocolates, bookmarks and other promo material. But on my very first stop I questioned whether or not I’d make another. In the bookstore I overheard a man (a bookstore employee???) complaining about his girlfriend’s request that he buy her something good to read. A romance, no less---and he refused to buy her a “smutty Harlequin.”

Um, yeah. So much for being romance friendly.

While he lamented the unbelievable horror of having his girlfriend make such a request and proceeded to call Harlequin romances everything from “porn” to “smut” to “low class trash” my anger grew. And grew. And GREW. But I’m not a confrontational person. I’m a chicken and admit it freely, and to make it worse, I’d started shaking because I was getting so upset with the man’s ongoing litany of ignorant hatred toward the books I happen to love. Smut? I don’t think so!

I turned on my heel to leave, figuring it would be best not to say a word because if I opened my mouth at that moment I’d either make a fool of myself because I have an annoying habit of getting emotional when I get upset OR do something that might have me arrested. (Hey, I really, really wanted that oceanfront condo at the beach! Jail just wasn’t worth it.)

But then it happened. The manager (who hadn’t taken part in the conversation to my knowledge) spotted me and asked if she could help me. That’s when the coward in me got shoved aside by the angry woman sick of the tirade the so-called man was on.

Could she help me? You bet she could.

Shaking inside and gripping my goody bag (with the devil on my shoulder arguing hard for me to swing it at the guy’s head) I forced a smile to my lips, aware the man and the other bookstore employee were watching and listening. “Yes, you can. My name is Kay Stockham and I’m a Harlequin author.”

The man laughed—until he got a good look at my face and realized I was serious. OMG I’ve never seen anyone turn so many shades of purple. The worker he’d been talking to (the one who’d agreed with what he’d said and made a few comments of her own) gasped. Her mouth literally fell open in shock. My smile widened and I said something along the lines of, “Yeah, you never know who’s listening, do you?”

Can you imagine? Think of the timing. The sheer synchronicity of the moment. Of all the bookstores in all the towns... the conversations taking place in them---that was the one I walked into? I figured it was fate.

And for the moment, it was the end of Mr. Idiot’s rant on romances. Standing by the counter, he propped an arm on the surface, lowered his head and other than a few quick glances while I talked to the manager and made my schpeel about the upcoming release of HIS PERFECT WOMAN, he kept his purple face averted and refused to make eye contact. Believe me I watched, waiting to pounce because by then I figured in for a penny, in for a pound. SMUT?

The manager thanked me for stopping by, handed over a card to send her more promo and sent glares over her shoulder to the two people standing there gawking like children in time out, but despite the despair I’d felt earlier, I left the store feeling pretty good. Maybe they threw the promotional materials in the trash after I walked out, maybe they didn’t. Either way I think I made a good impression by keeping my cool and class under pressure even though I shake my head every time I think about it and feel the utmost pity for the guy’s girlfriend.

And here I am at the end of my blog (which I told Sam would be short ) with questions for all of you: How do you handle yourself under pressure? Are you the picture perfect image of grace under fire? Shake and speak up only when necessary? Or, do you let your temper fly? Have you ever said something in a public setting and have it come back to haunt you? (I guarantee the guy will think twice before he rants about anything like that again! )

I’ll draw two names from those registered users who post. One will receive a copy of my 2007 RITA nominated MAN WITH A PAST, the first book set in the fictional town of Taylorsville, Ohio. And the second will get a copy of HIS PERFECT WOMAN. (NOTE: In November, 2007, A CHRISTMAS TO REMEMBER will end the series of related books! Sooo many readers asked what happened to Jack, Joe’s brother. Now you’ll know.)

Thanks for letting me join you and if you have any questions to ask me about my writing, etc., fire away!

God bless,

Kay