Linking to Jane . . . Or Life's Little Disasters
One of the books I really enjoyed in the past year was Jane Porter's The Frog Prince. Used, as I was, to Jane's incredibly intense Harlequin Presents novels, I was taken by surprise by this very different voice.
Jane? I thought. Is this you?
Well, of course, it was her heroine. But it was Jane, too. And it was delightful.
I read it the night before I was going to Indianapolis last June to take care of my granddaughter while my daughter, The Athletic Trainer, hobnobbed with 10,000 other athletic trainers and got CEUs for it. And I was almost late getting there because I stayed awake until all hours finishing TFP, and then had to drag myself out of bed and drive for hours to get to Indy. All Jane's fault.
Then I was telling my daughter about it, about how much fun it was and how I'd enjoyed it, and naturally I'd forgotten to bring the book. I'm lucky I remembered to bring my head and my suitcase, I left in such a hurry. And there is nothing The Athletic Trainer likes more than a good book. So naturally we had to go find her one of her own. Which we did. Fortunately there was a Borders within spitting distance of the hotel.
She loved The Frog Prince, too. (I know this because we were sharing one little hotel room and she was laughing out loud at 2 a.m. while the granddaughter and I were trying to sleep).
So when Jane kindly offered me an ARC of her new book, Flirting With Forty, I leapt at the chance to read it. Now I have been watching the mailbox for a week. The postman isn't here yet today and it's already after 4 p.m. -- which makes me think he's staying at home reading it before he deigns to bring it, drat him.
In the meantime, when I'm not working with Spence, I've been doing my best to link to Jane's Blog, called the Janeblog, which has a very nice piece on Peeps today. And I can get the blog linked to, but I can't get any of the pictures. And since Jane does lots of great pictures on her blog, if you go there from my page, it's like getting a comic book without the illustrations. If you go there directly you still don't get any Peeps -- which Jane apparently isn't sharing even any pictures of! -- but you will get lots of great people.
So . . . if anyone feels like telling me HOW to get Jane's blog so it comes up complete with pictures, I'd be delighted to learn. In the meantime, you can go there from my links, but be aware that, for the moment at least, you apparently get the 'text only' version.
And Spence? He's fine, thanks. And he's working at last. Working so hard I left him in the other room to get on with it while I came in here to try to link up with Jane.
Now Jane is linked. Sort of. And the dogs are barking, which might mean the postman has arrived at last. If so, and if he has delivered Flirting With Forty, I have the feeling Spence will be on his own a few hours longer.
Jane? I thought. Is this you?
Well, of course, it was her heroine. But it was Jane, too. And it was delightful.
I read it the night before I was going to Indianapolis last June to take care of my granddaughter while my daughter, The Athletic Trainer, hobnobbed with 10,000 other athletic trainers and got CEUs for it. And I was almost late getting there because I stayed awake until all hours finishing TFP, and then had to drag myself out of bed and drive for hours to get to Indy. All Jane's fault.
Then I was telling my daughter about it, about how much fun it was and how I'd enjoyed it, and naturally I'd forgotten to bring the book. I'm lucky I remembered to bring my head and my suitcase, I left in such a hurry. And there is nothing The Athletic Trainer likes more than a good book. So naturally we had to go find her one of her own. Which we did. Fortunately there was a Borders within spitting distance of the hotel.
She loved The Frog Prince, too. (I know this because we were sharing one little hotel room and she was laughing out loud at 2 a.m. while the granddaughter and I were trying to sleep).
So when Jane kindly offered me an ARC of her new book, Flirting With Forty, I leapt at the chance to read it. Now I have been watching the mailbox for a week. The postman isn't here yet today and it's already after 4 p.m. -- which makes me think he's staying at home reading it before he deigns to bring it, drat him.
In the meantime, when I'm not working with Spence, I've been doing my best to link to Jane's Blog, called the Janeblog, which has a very nice piece on Peeps today. And I can get the blog linked to, but I can't get any of the pictures. And since Jane does lots of great pictures on her blog, if you go there from my page, it's like getting a comic book without the illustrations. If you go there directly you still don't get any Peeps -- which Jane apparently isn't sharing even any pictures of! -- but you will get lots of great people.
So . . . if anyone feels like telling me HOW to get Jane's blog so it comes up complete with pictures, I'd be delighted to learn. In the meantime, you can go there from my links, but be aware that, for the moment at least, you apparently get the 'text only' version.
And Spence? He's fine, thanks. And he's working at last. Working so hard I left him in the other room to get on with it while I came in here to try to link up with Jane.
Now Jane is linked. Sort of. And the dogs are barking, which might mean the postman has arrived at last. If so, and if he has delivered Flirting With Forty, I have the feeling Spence will be on his own a few hours longer.
posted by Anne McAllister at 3:17 PM
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