Let it Snow - Somewhere Else

I hate snow. Oh, sure, call me a killjoy. Call me unfestive. But today, after slogging through horizontal snow with two heavy bags of trash only to find my trash cans frozen shut, I just wasn't feeling the holiday spirit.

I'm a winter sissy, I admit it. I've spent nine winters in Chicago so far, and I'm still not used to the cold. I grew up in Texas, ya'll. My idea of winter is when you can drink a frozen margarita on the porch without it melting in five minutes.

But then I moved to the midwest, and that all changed.

I think I did this to myself. I spent every Christmas growing up in the very warm Dallas suburbs wishing for snow. Growing up, there were only two Christmases we actually did get snow, and one of those was technically an ice storm. The other one, we got half an inch of snow, and I had to gently gather it up from all corners of my yard to make a snowman the size of a lawn gnome. As far as winter wonderlands went, it was pretty lame.

The funny thing about snow in Texas is that if there was even the sighting of a single snowflake, the entire state would shut down for a week. No need to venture out if there was a couple of snowflakes on the ground.

Actually, this was pretty smart. Nobody in Texas knows how to drive on snowy roads, so it's really better for everybody concerned that they stay home. There was an ice storm once during the five years I lived in Austin. I lived on top of a hill, and I walked out of my apartment, only to see ten cars in a row skid down the icy hill and crash into the pile up of cars at the bottom intersection. Seriously - they went off, one after another, like lemmings off a cliff. You could just hear their inner thoughts "Oh, it only looks slippery, but the brakes on MY truck will work better. I'm sure it ain't that bad," then oops! and BAM!

I'd personally have liked to hear driver nine in that particular car pile-up try to explain to his insurance adjuster just why he decided he'd take on that ice hill when eight cars before him had clearly failed.

Sad. Just sad.

Almost as sad as the outdoor mall near my house. Really? Whose brainchild was this? Let's build an OUTDOOR mall in Chicago - where tomorrow it is supposed to be five degrees. That'll get 'em out and shopping!

After nine years in Chicago, I have had my share of snow, sleet and ice. My inner-ten-year-old ought to love this, but my enthusiasm is dampened by the fact that my husband rarely ever shovels. He grew up in New Hampshire, and therefore has had plenty of experience both shoveling snow and thinking up good excuses not to ("I'm late for the train!" "I pulled a muscle!" "I just took a shower!" "Right now?! But, I was just about to eat this peanut butter sandwich!").

My girls, on the other hand, love the snow. They are very excited about the prospect of playing in it (not so excited about the idea of putting on the snowsuits). Still, I am pretty sure the guy who wrote that song "Let it Snow" didn't live in Chicago with two small children. Otherwise, he'd be singing "Please let it be unseasonably warm so we can go to the park and get out of this !@#$% house/prison."

It normally takes a half hour just to get both girls to put on their socks and shoes. Add in hats, mittens, and snow suits, and I might as well start getting them ready for lunch out at six in the morning.

Speaking of - we just might need to go to the store tomorrow. Maybe I ought to try to get them in their snowsuits now...

It ain't easy being green...

Okay, so I was flipping through one of those random catalogs I get sent (how did I ever get on the Old Lady Pants/Clogs Catalog list? Really - am I THAT old? The day I wear sansabelt polyester pants is the day I officially have let myself go beyond recovery) and I saw these cool solar-powered Christmas lights you can hang around your house. I thought - hey, I need Christmas lights, so I'll buy these as a two-fer - a present for me and a present for Mother Earth. You're welcome, planet.

I waited anxiously for them to arrive, thinking all the while that Al Gore would be proud of me. (By the way, anyone see his cameo on 30 Rock? One word: Priceless).

Okay, so then the lights arrive. I should've known when five strings of them came in a package the size of a shoebox that something wasn't right. Last time I checked, I didn't live in a dollhouse. Okay, so the lights were small. REALLY small. All right, so instead of hanging them all around the front of my house, I'd just hang them on the fence. We have to make sacrifices for the planet, right? I had to think of future generations. Okay, I could do this.

So, after Thanksgiving, I opened the boxes, set up the solar panels so that they faced the best sunlight of the day, and then hung the lights around the small fence in front of my house. So, first off, the strings were like five feet long, so I didn't actually get to cover the entire fence. All right, so again - think green! Planet comes first.

Two nights ago, I turn these puppies on, ready to feel the nice glow of Christmas and the smugness of doing something great for the planet, and the lights work! They come on! Sure, they're not as bright as fossil-fueled lights, but they are lights. In the pitch-black of the middle of the night, if you aren't standing too close to the street lights, they kind of even look festive. So I'm feeling good. I even ignore my husband who says, "You know what's even greener than solar mass-produced lights from China?" Long, snarky pause. "No lights."

Well, whatever. I've done it. I've engineered a green Christmas. You can send me a thank-you card on recycled paper, anytime now, Al!

And then, fifteen minutes later, the first string of lights goes out. Like, completely out. Twenty minutes later, the second string falls, and within forty-five minutes, the entire lot of them are dark. Folks, it is just 7:45 at night. These suckers lasted exactly 45 minutes!

Then, yesterday, it rained, and last night - no lights at all. This is why our cars still run on gas. This is why my water heater is 100 percent natural-gas-fueled. If I had to wait for sunny days to shower, things would get pretty rank around here.

So, my house is dark, and very-unChristmas like. It is sad. It is Charlie-Brown-Christmas-sad (of course, I do believe Charlie Brown actually put working lights on that pathetic, litle scrap of a tree he got. So, maybe that's an insult to Charlie Brown). But, on the plus side, I think I reduced my carbon footprint by a milimeter. Or maybe two. You're welcome, planet. You're welcome.

I'm still waiting on my thank-you card, Mr. Vice President.

New Moon, New Blog

Ah, well, so sorry for the lack of blogs (blogging? Blog entries? Blogosphericals? I don't know the proper vocabulary anymore). I've been busy writing (kind of) and, I have to admit, I've been cheating on this blog with Twitter. It's a heck of a lot easier to write 163 characters than all of these - what do you call them? - Oh, yes, sentences and paragraphs. I mean, sheesh. What do you think I am? A writer or something? Please. Besides, I think I've mentioned before, that I'm a big of a slacker.

This weekend, however, I am officially coming out of hibernation. Tomorrow, I'm off to see New Moon with a girlfriend of mine (my inner teen girl is jumping for joy and my husband is breathing a sigh of relief since he won't have to pretend he doesn't mind going). I've already been listening to the new soundtrack. Killers? Death Cab For Cutie? It's like it was MADE for me.

And every other teen girl in America. One of this days, I will have to come to terms with my real age, but until then, I'm happily oblivious to the fact that I am well out of the target demographic.

This is why I happily write Young Adult novels. I have no problem pretending I'm a teenager. Speaking of, there is NO decision on Bard Academy #4. My editor is still deciding its fate. I'd tell you to keep your fingers crossed, but who knows when the decision will be made. So, just mentally keep your fingers crossed. Or, if that's too hard (not sure how you do that exactly) just tell your friends to buy some Bard books and then everything ought to work out. Hopefully.

I'll be back with more Adventures in the Life of Cara Lockwood (the short version: I had so much fun with fun-sized Snickers bars over Halloween that I'm too fat for my skinny jeans; I'm obsessed with Glee (TV), Twilight (Movie) and The Hunger Games/Catching Fire (Books); and I'm playing tennis again - if I take Andre Agassi's lead, does that mean I have to do Crystal Meth to be any good?).

I'll be back with more later...

Bring Back Bard Week!

So many of you have been asking me - is there going to be a fourth book in the Bard Academy series? For the past year, I've said I don't know. And, as it turns out, I STILL don't know, but I am closer to knowing than I've ever been before. Did I blow your mind? Oh, yeah. I'm good at that.

Anyway, for those of you keeping score, we've had Wuthering High, The Scarlet Letterman and Moby Clique. The verdict on a Book Four rests entirely on the shoulders of my very talented and irreplaceable editor (I'm not above brownnosing here, people) who is at the moment wrestling with the decision about whether or not to continue the Bard books. Bard, you see, has a very loyal, but sadly very small, following, and so sales haven't been all that they've hoped for. And Wuthering High has been option for a movie (twice) and both times said option has fallen through. That is a dual saga saved for another time. So, that's where we are.

If you would like to register your desire for a fourth book and would like to join like-minded folk, step over to Books Meet Blogs as they celebrate "Bring Back Bard" week. Leave a comment and let your voice be heard!

Cover girl!

Okay, so I'm not a cover girl. And, I don't even have any cover girl make-up to give away. But, I DO have a sneak peek at the new cover for Can't Teach An Old Demon New Tricks, which is out next March.

Check it out. Isn't that... er... baby? demon? adorable...

Yes, there is a toddler half-demon in Can't Teach an Old Demon New Tricks. And, no, I swear, it is not at all based on either one of my angelic little girls who never, ever throw tantrums at Target or say "no" or try to run into oncoming traffic.

My children are perfect. Just ask their grandmother.

This little tyke, however, has a little devil's streak, and it's up to his super mom, Rachel (you'll remember her as Constance's best friend in Every Demon Has His Day) to save his soul (and her house) from his fire-breathing ways. Luckily, she has the help of a brooding fallen angel (Sam) to help her, which in many ways is an upgrade from Frank the Talking French Bulldog. For those of you who've read Every Demon, you know what I'm talking about. For those of you who haven't - what are you waiting for? Go buy it so my darling little girls (who always eat all their vegetables and then ask for a second helping of broccoli) can go to college one day.

Speaking of my darling girls... from that shriek, I think that naptime appears to be over. Until next time...

Edits done!

Woo-hoo! I've finally finished my "work" editing the sequel to Every Demon Has His Day (Can't Teach an Old Demon New Tricks) and I can finally breath a little.

In the blur that was frantically rewriting my book under deadline, I missed telling you all about my birthday (The big 3-0 - again! This is my sixth try, and I intend to get it right this time). I also failed to mention my stint as a guest blogger at Yankee Romance Reviewers. Check it out if you really are starving for some shameless self promotion on my part, or if you'd just like to read the steamy excerpt from Every Demon (warning to the prudish - there is a kiss involved).

There is also some other good news for those of you who haven't read ALL my books yet. When Can't Teach an Old Demon New Tricks is released in spring 2010, Simon and Schuster is also reissuing some of my old classics, including Pink Slip Party and I Did (But I Wouldn't Now) in mass market paperback. That means instead of having to fork over $13, you can now buy them for $7.99. Just in time for the recession! Hooray.

In other, irrelevant to the self-promotion news, it's FINALLY gotten warm in Chicago. I swear it takes longer every year. It's always snow, snow, snow, ice, snow, snow, freezing cold, freezing rain, torrential rain, and then summer. Native Chicagoians will disagree with me, but for this Texas-raised girl, there are ten months of winter and two months of summer here (I say anything below 60 degrees is winter weather - that's what we call it in Dallas).

I'll be back soon to talk more about "Can't Teach An Old Demon New Tricks." Until then, happy summer everybody!

Ah, Friday

It's Friday and I'm still swamped with work...Arrgh... This is the secret about being a full-time writer. Sure, you can work in your PJs, but you don't really get weekends or holidays off (not to mention no maternity leave - last time, I got two weeks!). I'm particularly crabby near deadlines, which is because I'm a procastinator. Give me ten months to write a novel, and I'll probably save most of the heavy lifting for the last three.

So, I'm still working on the edits for Can't Teach An Old Demon New Tricks (the sequel to Every Demon Has His Day), but I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel (to quote my Dad, I'm just hoping it's not an oncoming train. Dad was not so good at the inspirational speeches).

Anyway, for those of you well-versed in the laws of the Cara Lockwood universe you know I'm a slave to self-promotion, and anybody who is willing to heap praise on me will get a mention here. I'm the subject of a summer beach read blog -

check it out:

http://firstnovelsclub.blogspot.com/2009/05/beach-season-beginsyou-know-what-that.html

It's a fab summary of my body of work and a nice reminder that if you've read one of my books, there are still seven more, so what are you waiting for? Buy another one. My mortgage isn't going to pay itself. Ahem. Just kidding. Kind of.

Anyway, I wish the rest of you a very happy weekend! See? I can be generous even when I'm crabby about deadlines. That's just the kind of person I am - self-promoting, but polite. Mom is so proud.

Where's Excerpt Wednesday?

Well, I meant to write something lovely and blatantly self-promoting about Every Demon Has His Day today - it being Excerpt Wednesday - but I'm buried under revisions for the sequel to Every Demon, and that's Can't Teach An Old Demon New Tricks.

Sadly, the life of an author is not sitting around in a smoking jacket smoking a pipe and listening to the Masterpiece Theatre theme song like I once imagined. It actually involves work sometimes and this is one of those times.

So, I promise, once I'm done revising, I will be back in full force. Until then, if any of you want to pick Every Demon for your book club, I've got some nice discussion questions for you:

1. If you were the Chosen One, what would you do first: save the world or try to figure out the numbers for the next Super Ball Lotto?

2. Which one is scenario is scarier: the devil trying to sire an antichrist or Ty Murray doing the Rumba on Dancing with the Stars?

3. Is Every Demon the Best Book of the Year? Or the Best Book of All Time? Discuss.

4. Does anyone want to help edit the sequel? (Okay, this last one is really just because I am really, really trying to get out of doing these rewrites. Argh! I'm allergic to work - and the antedote is a margarita with salt - I need one! Stat!)

Okay, so I will be back, soon, I promise. For now, I have to go finish the sequel, or I'm pretty sure some attorney is going to sue me for breach of contract and then I'll have to disappear to Guatemala or something so I don't have to pay back my advance. Say, wait a minute... Do they have good margaritas in Guatemala?

No, no, no, no.... MUST go do work! I'll be back soon. Besides, I think it would be harder work to learn Spanish than finish this sequel.

Dixieland Sushi - Redux

Recently, Amy from Austin wrote me and said her book club had picked Dixieland Sushi for this month. Hooray! I love book clubs, especially when they pick my books (cha-ching! That's a few more donations to the Lockwood Girls College fund - thank you, you have just helped educate two children).

She asked that I come up with a few discussion questions, and here was my best shot:

1. There are a lot of flashbacks to the '80s in Dixieland Sushi. How do you think popular culture affects our memories of growing up? And the '80s - great decade or greatest decade? Discuss.

2. Jen's spent a lot of time forgetting where she came from. How does Riley help her get in touch with her roots and bond with her family? And how necessary is family (after the birth and raising of a person)?

3. Do you think America is a melting pot or a tossed salad? (And "I'll toss your salad" is the WRONG answer - get your minds out of the gutter, people!)

4. Mr. Miyagi - is he a great modern day philosopher or the greatest modern day philosopher? Discuss.

4. Where are the 'ritas? Can someone please refill my glass? (Okay, just kidding on the last one, although a margarita sounds pretty good about now).

And if anyone else is interested in picking Dixieland Sushi for their book club, let me know, and I'll send along some signed postcards. In fact, if you pick any of my books for a book club, I will send along signed postcards and goofy discussion questions - all free. See? We all benefit from my shameless self-promotion.

I'm alive, but Dead Jimmy isn't

Okay, I don't know if you all are freaked out by the swine flu (or freaked out by the people who are freaked out) but this stuff is scary. Yes, it's probably overblown (I'm talking to you Sanjay Gupta), but maybe, just maybe it's not. I'm hoping it's not. I'm hoping everyone who says we're overreacting is completely right and can rub it in all of our faces later when the world is still here and it's not a post-pandemic wasteland where the survivors have become cannibals who wear gas masks (Note to self: stop reading "The Road").

Ahem. Well, on a lighter note, I'm alive and not currently running a fever or anything remotely like swine flu and you can rest assured that you will not catch anything from this blog. Okay, so you won't catch anything unless you roommate or husband or coworker has coughed all over the keyboard you're using. I can't guarantee your computer. I can only guarantee these contents are 100 percent swine flu free.

Speaking of untimely demises, it's time for another glimpse into Every Demon Has His Day. I've saved one of my best characters for last. Dead Jimmy is the ghost of Constance's soon-to-be-ex-husband (he'd died before he could sign the divorce papers).

And if you thought an ex was annoying alive, trust me, he was a thousand times more annoying dead.

"You're dead," Constance said, managing to keep her voice steady despite hte fact that everything she thought she knew about the world was being turned upside down.

"Well, no duh, Connie," he said, calling her by the nickname she had hated since grade school. "Getting a screwdriver in the back by a demon will do that to a guy."

Constance blinked hard twice. The man who killed Jimmy really was a demon?

"What did you say?"

"I was killed by a demon - remember? He gave you a business card," Dead Jimmy reiterated. "You know - guys with red horns. Except they don't always have horns." Jimmy looked around the kitchen like he'd never seen it before. "Say, we got any beer?"

Constance signed, went to the fridge and pulled out a can of beer, and set it on the kitchen counter. Jimmy attacked it like he hadn't seen a beer in weeks. Of course, being a ghost made things complicated, as his hand kept going straight through the can like smoke through air.

"Dammit," he cursed.

Read more about Dead Jimmy and the other characters of Dogwood County in Every Demon Has His Day.

Stay safe everybody - wash your hands!!

A little Nathan

It's that time again - time for another little "Every Demon Has His Day" teaser. This one is about Constance's love interest, Nathan Garrett. I've had a couple of people write me and ask me where they can find a Nathan for themselves. I wish I knew (no offense, hubby)! If you have a man who's willing to slay demons for you, that's true love.

Here's a little more about Nathan:


Nathan Garrett was the youngest of the Garrett brothers, notorious throughout Dogwood County for their good looks and their fast hands. In high school the brothers - a set of twins and the youngest, Nathan - pretty much were responsible for relieving the greater Dogwood County female population of their virginity between the years 1991 and 2000....

Nathan wasn't stupid. He knew what he looked like. And he knew he had a certain reputation, but honestly, he was leaving that life behind and turning over a new leaf. He hadn't been out on a proper date in months. Sure, he'd had his share of girls in Dallas, but frankly, after you've dated three or four Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, they all start to look the same. Besides, he'd left Dallas in part because he wanted to put his flings behind him. He came home looking for some peace and quiet and maybe a girl who could do long division.

...


In just the last week, he'd had more than his share of accidental meetings with exes that had scared the life out of him. Either his standards in high school were very, very low or some of the girls hr knew had really let themselves go. So far, Mindy Conrad had been the worst. She'd surprised him in the aisle at Kroger two days ago, and in ten years she had managed to gaind ouble her weight while losing most of her theeth. Nathan didn't know how that worked, but guessed, by the contents of her cart, she ate her fair share of ice cream and pudding.

Nathan put his hand on the doorknob and prepared to turn it when Robbie dropped his notepad and bent down to get it. That left him with a perfect view of Constance. And for a second, he couldn't move.

She had the same stark, clear blue eyes and the same spattering of freckles on her small button nose. But somehow, she looked different. She'd changed. Grown up. Her hair was a little longer and striaghter, but still the color of wheat, and she had her slim arms crossed ont he table. In ten years, she'd become more womanly, and less girlish, her roundness now slimmer. She'd always been in the moderately cute category. The kind of girl who was cuddly cute, but not beautiful. Now she was something much more than that. There was no way around it. She had just plain blossomed. She was take-your-breath-away-goregous, the kind of girl who'd make you have trouble remembering your own name.

And in that instant, Nathan knew he'd made a terrible mistake.

Why, oh, why, didn't I call? he thought, as he took a deep breath and opened the door.


Want more Nathan? You can only find him in Every Demon Has His Day.

You might be a geek if...

So, since Every Demon Has His Day is in the Sci-Fi section of your local bookstore, my so-called friends have pointed out that this might make me a) eligible for entry into the next Trekkie Convention and b) makes me a geek.

Well, sad to disappoint my frenemies, but my geek status has never really been in question. I might not watch the Sci-Fi channel, but I *might* have dressed up as Princess Leia one Halloween (Okay, so not exactly Leia - my hair would NOT do side buns - but her younger cousin "generic space princess"). And, yes, I just might have stood in line to see all the Star Wars Prequel movies just to see Yoda kick butt, even though those damn romance scenes were a little like taking a salted lemon wedge to the eye.

I am allergic to going to the gym (instead of breaking out into a sweat, I break out in hives). The last time I went to the gym, it was to take advantage of a free promotional "work-out" with a personal trainer. After just ten minutes, I tossed my cookies all over the free weights. Sad, but true. This body was simply not meant to be in shape.

But, I'm not complaining about being in the Sci-Fi section. According to Amazon, I might be 9,580 in general sales, but I'm 62 in Sci Fi/Contemporary and 55 in Thriller/Psychological (suck on it Jodi Picoult and James Patterson! Oh, wait, you guys are still ahead of me and bizillionaires while I am a sad sack thousand-aire - my bad).

At any rate, the whole "am I a geek" thing has brought up a question from a reader - does buying Every Demon Has His Day make YOU a geek? The answer is clear: Absolutely NOT. Buying Every Demon Has His Day makes you:

Brilliant
Gorgeous*
Famous*
and - my personal favorite -
Filthy Rich.*

So, fear not. No geekiness will rub off on you. Just lotto winnings and Hawaiian vacations. **


**Buying Every Demon Has His Day will not make you Gorgeous, Famous or Rich or send you to the Hawaiian Islands or help you win the lotto. But, it will help pad the Lockwood Girls college fund and that, in the author's humble opinion, does makes you brilliant.

Ah, Friday

Well, it's four o'clock, and both my children are alive. The day has been a success.

Trust me, both of my young'uns have tried their best to end their short lives today (my eldest decided that a day at the park should end with a quick sprint toward traffic and my youngest's idea of learning to walk is pounding her head into every available hard surface, preferably those with sharp corners).

At any rate, thanks to the wonders of television (my favorite babysitter - judge me if you dare), I can write this quick blog entry.

For those of you desperately looking for "Every Demon Has His Day" and can't find it - check out the Sci-fi section. For some reason, it's there. Search me. I've been informed my friends that because I have a novel in Sci-fi, that means that I am officially a Geek. Not that my geek-i-ness was ever in question (I never won a game of dodge ball in my life and, yes, I might have dressed up as Princess Leia - I won't disclose whether or not it was on Halloween or whether or not it was last year).

And while Ashton Kutcher may have just lined up a million followers on Twitter, I am still looking to break 50. Sad, but true. So, if you want to boost my ego so I can pretend that I have friends, become one of my followers at www.twitter.com/CaraLockwood. I promise I won't make you drink any Cool-Aid, blue or otherwise. Is it just me, or is the "following" thing just a tad bit cultish?

That's it for now. I should go. I think one of my offspring found some scissors.

The Chosen One

Hi all,

It's Wednesday again (I think - my eight-month-old has recently decided she's allergic to sleep, and therefore I don't know if I'm coming or going these days).

Time for a little peek inside Every Demon Has His Day.

Today, we're going to focus on Constance Plyd, the hero of our book, who is known for her chicken-fried steak recipe and being the Chosen One.

Constance leaned forward and picked up the magazine. And then something strange happened. The minute she touched the picture of Dante London, she felt like she'd been shocked by an electric current. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then they glazed over and rolled back in her head. She felt a surge of energy go through her, and she was frozen to the spot. And then the images ran past her eyes like TiVo on fast-forward.

She was having a Vision with a capital V.

And it was as vivid as it was sudden: Dante London, barely legal pop princess and queen of all things white trash, was destined to become the mother of the Anti-Christ.

Besides the fact that Constance is the "Chosen One" who happens to get visions, she's just like you and me. She's in the middle of a messy divorce and can't quite seem to get work life or her love life in order. Want to read more about her? Pick up Every Demon Has His Day at your local bookstore (it might be in the Sci Fi section) or at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

Hanging with my Peeps

As my two-year-old digs into her fuscia-colored Peeps, she thoughtfully eats an entire rabbit and then sticks out her tongue. "Don't like, Mommy," she says, shaking her head. This decisive proclaimation, however, doesn't stop her from promptly reaching for another one.

She, like me, has a love-hate relationship with those marshmallow Easter treats, which brings up the question: Are they tasty treats? Or crimes against marshmallows?

Well, the answer may never be known. If you've always wondered, however, just how tough this candy is, check out this site:

www.peepresearch.org/

It's what happens when researchers have a lot of expensive equipment and too much time on their hands. You find out, for instance, what would happen if you dropped a Peep into a bowl of liquid nitrogen.

Happy Easter, folks. You're welcome!

And, in it's All About Me news, Every Demon Has His Day is #41 on Amazon's bestseller list!! (Okay, well, it's technically #7,554, but it's #41 in the Mystery and Thriller/Thriller/Psychological and Suspense category. Odd, because I actually didn't know Every Demon was a thriller/psycholological suspense book, but I guess you learn something new every day.

Party Like It's... a new book out!

Hi all,

I am happily tired (instead of the usual toddler-induced fatigue), after spending a lovely evening at my friend Bethie's. She outdid herself with one of her fabulous book launch parties celebrating Every Demon Has His Day, and I am still full today from everything I ate. For those of you who haven't heard of her parties (they're pretty much world-famous), she bakes and cooks everything from scratch. Case in point - her party pizza (dough and sauce made completely from scratch). I think she stopped just shy of growing her own bathtub cheese, but everything else was completely Martha Stewart-ized.

I am particularly amazed by this, since my version of a homecooked meal is to dump a can of cream of mushroom soup on a frozen chicken breast and throw it in the oven. (Sure, defrosting it first might improve the taste, but where's the challenge in eating non-rubberized chicken?). My oldest daughter, however, thinks I'm a great cook. But fortunately for her, her favorite thing to eat in the world is chicken nuggets, and those come fresh from our freezer (just hold the cream of mushroom soup).

But more importantly than the food was the company. I haven't had that many adult conversations in a row since before my oldest was born. I've got two girls (age 2 and 8 months) and last night reminded me I really need to get out more. I knew something was up when shortly after waving bye to the babysitter, I hit the gas so hard I think I actually left skid marks, and then started cackling uncontrollably, shouting "I'm free! Free! I'm FREE!!!!" like a recently released hostage.

Don't get me wrong, my girls are adorable and I wouldn't trade them for anything (which works out, since I'm pretty sure I'm stuck with them). It's just Mama needs to get her grove back every now and again (and a little bit of wine doesn't hurt either).

So, thank you to everyone who came to the party, to the hostess with the mostest, and to my husband who put both girls to sleep last night (God bless him).

Congrats to the winners!

Just wanted to congratulate the winners of the Win It Before You Can Buy It contest. These lucky ten get signed copies of Every Demon Has His Day:

John
from Warren, Ohio

Carrie
from Biloxi, Mississippi

Donna
from Worthington, Indiana

Kim
from Freedom, Pennsylvania

Jennifer
from Thayer, Missouri

Polly
from Cedar Creek, Texas

Jon
from Hillsborough,New Jersey

Jason
from Elko, Minnesota

Molly
from Citrus Heights, California

Hiroko
from Schaumburg, Illinois


I may not be "excellent" but you guys are! And thanks to everyone else for entering. And if you didn't win (and I know the feeling, because so far it's Me: 0 Lotto: 594), don't worry. I'll have another contest soon and you can try your luck again. Or, take control of your fate and just buy "Every Demon Has His Day" right now!

Demon Middle Managers

So it's Wednesday. I thought I'd try something new. Like, every Wednesday I do a little something more in-depth about the characters in Every Demon Has His Day. So, you can get to know them a little better, and get the answer to that age old question: What the !@#$ was she thinking when she wrote that?

Yaman and Shadow

"Oh, hell on a stick," Yaman added, glancing down at his feet and noticing blood splatters on his toes for the first time. "I think I ruined my shoes. Dammit - these were my favorite pair!"

"What do demons care of shoes?"

"Are you joking? They're Bruno Magli's."


For those of you who haven't yet read the book (and why haven't you - it's been twenty-four hours since it's been in stores. HEL-lo). Yaman and Shadow are the middle manager-like demons Satan sends to earth to try to help him find the prophet who is going to foretell the coming of the antichrist who will help Satan take over the world (oh, yeah, and it's funny, too - doesn't that just sound like a comedy?). They're disgruntled, slightly inept, completely self-absorbed, and pretty much exactly like all my worst bosses over the years (you know who you are!).

Yaman and Shadow, unlike my previous employers, however, are my favorite characters. It turns out when middle managers are demons they are actually pretty funny. At least, I think so. Yaman is a Pride demon and Shadow is a Glutton demon, and the two don't see eye to eye on pretty much anything, especially how best to execute their assignment.

They were two of the first characters I created for Every Demon. I thought it would be funny to have demons - while evil - be disgruntled with their earthbound assignments in a way that middle managers at Chrysler might be (not that I'm saying Chrysler is an instrument of the devil).

So that's my little tid-bit for today. Read more about Yaman and Shadow in Every Demon Has His Day.

Buy it at Amazon.
Buy it at Barnes and Noble.

It's here!

Today is your lucky day. No, you didn't win the lotto (probably), but you DO have the chance to buy Every Demon Has His Day. It is offically in stores this week, and I want to caution that while I know you all are going to rush the bookstores, be careful not to run over any little old ladies on your way to the cash register. There are plenty of copies for everyone. No shoving!

For those of you who know me, the idea of a stampede ensuing at your local B&N for me, is sadly comical. That would only happen for one of my books, if say, Stephenie Meyer were there signing Twilight, or if J.K. Rowling came out of retirement. I once had a book signing on the same day as the release of a Harry Potter book. Nothing is more depressing than having a swarm of people in Harry Potter garb asking you - as you sit gamely behind your book signing table in front of your picture and a big stack of NON-Harry Potter books - where the bathroom is.

But, I digress.

Today is an excellent day because my book is in stores, and I will concentrate on that. It's a good thing I have this positive news, because I recently found out that, as I always suspected, I am, not actually, excellent. Recently, I was up for the 2009 Gayle Wilson Award for Excellence for Young Adult Romance (see the backstory here). I lost out to Hell Week by Rosemary Clement-Moore. I'm okay with this, if only because Clement-Moore's books are called the Girl vs. Evil series. How can you top that? Besides, I'm a big fan of sarcastic wit, and there's a lot of that in Hell Week.

And, fear not, I have not forgotten about the Every Demon contest. I will be announcing winners shortly. But don't risk it - head to your bookstore TODAY and buy Every Demon. There might be some Harry Potter fans wandering the aisles who will snatch up your copy before you get there. Don't take any chances.

I'm a twit

Okay, at long last, I've finally joined the Twitter Nation - I'm officially a twit. Come visit me at twitter.com/CaraLockwood. Now, you can find out just how dorky I am as I try to contain myself in 140 characters. And this is just what I need - yet another excuse to procrastinate!

I promise I won't use my Twitter powers for evil, like to tweet during the President's address if I happen to be in the audience (I'm talking about YOU house Republicans and Dem Claire McCaskill!), but since I'm most likely not going to be in a place where the President is speaking, I'll therefore promise not to tweet under dangerous circumstances like driving. I can't parallel park when I'm fully concentrating on it, so adding texting just won't work.

And for those of you on Facebook or MySpace, I'm on there too. Drop by and say hello.

And don't forget, if you haven't already entered to win a signed copy of Every Demon Has His Day - you've got two more days. I pick names on April 6! To enter, email me at contest@caralockwood.com.

A good buzz

And I'm not talking about the kind of buzz you get from three glasses of Shiraz (unfortunately), I'm talking about good critical buzz for Every Demon Has His Day (which, for those of you counting down the days, is out in less than a week). The critics are heaping on the praise, which is fine by me, because like I always say, if you have something nice to say about me, please say it often and where lots of people can hear it.

Single Titles
Romance Reviews Today
Steph Su Reads

The book hits stores April 6, but you can win your signed copy before that, by shooting me an email at contest@caralockwood.com. Or if you really, really can't wait, you can preorder it on Barnes and Noble or Amazon right now. They've been known to send out copies early (I have no idea how their mysterious warehouse distribution centers work, but they do!).

I'm a finalist!

That's right - I *might* just be able to call myself "award-winning" and not with my usual sense of irony (as in, "wow, look at that 'award-winning' parallel parking job I just did).

I just found out yesterday that Moby Clique is a finalist for the 2009 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence in Young Adult fiction. See other finalists here. I get to put this nifty graphic on my website and lord my "probable excellence" in the face on my husband and any one else who will listen ("did you see that parallel parking job? it was a finalist in the race for excellence").

Technically, this wouldn't be my first trip to award-dom, and I'm not talking about that Honorable Mention for the race I lost in recess in third grade, either. I won a Reader's Choice Award in 2006. Of course, I actually didn't realize I had won it and I actually thought I'd lost. Read that sad, goofy tale here.

I find out if I am truly "excellent" in April, but in the meantime I get a finalist certificate (I'm sure it beats the pants off that lame green honorable mention ribbon of third grade).

I'll keep posting updates. In the meantime, don't forgot to enter my contest to win an autographed copy of my new book, Every Demon Has His Day. Five lucky winners will get a copy of the book before you can buy it. Just shoot me an email to enter.

Win it Before You Can Buy It!

It's that time again. No, it's not time to dump your fiancee on national television, Mr. Bachelor - it's time to give away autographed books!

Send an email (with or without anything in it but your email address) to contest@caralockwood.com before April 6, and you'll be entered into a drawing to win an autographed copy of "Every Demon Has His Day" my new book out next month.

I'll be randomly selecting five lucky winners (that means the electronic equivalent of putting names into a hat). I'll be notifying winners by email.

In the meantime, if you're feeling like you might be missing out on news, don't forget to join my mailing list (I'm actually sending out my first newsletter this week, and I'll be trying to send out newsletters regularly after that). Email me at join@caralockwood.com to get on the list EVERYONE is talking about. And by everyone, I mean my mom and my two-year-old daughter who keeps asking me to put the 'puter' down and turn on Dora the Explorer. Don't be left out of the loop. Join now!

Come visit the new caralockwood.com!

Hi all,

Okay, so I blew my promise to blog every day, but, hey, at least I didn't wait until next year to blog again!

I'm writing to tell you about the relaunch of my site, caralockwood.com. It's been redesigned by my very talented friend, Christina. She's also the webmaster for bardacademy.com, and edsanders.net. If you want to hire her, just email me and I'll forward your request on.

Let me know if you like it!

And, remember, you can preorder "Every Demon Has His Day" now on Amazon or Barnes and Noble!

Worst Blogger Ever

Okay, for the two people who are still checking this site after I've been MIA for nearly a year - my deepest apologies.

My only excuse is that I've been hard at work on my next novel (Every Demon Has His Day, which to your left you'll see the fantabulous (it's a word if I say it is) cover. Said novel will hit bookstores in April, but you can preorder on Amazon or at Barnes and Noble today.

The buzz on "Every Demon" is good. Publisher's Weekly calls it "Frightfully funny." What else kind of endorsement do you need? Ok, well, President Obama says it's a "must-read." Well, he might not have said that. He might have said something else entirely about the economy, but if he did happen to like fluffy romantic comedy/paranormal/oddball stories about a cook from East Texas who wakes up one morning to realize she's got to stop the antichrist, he would most certainly endorse my book. Not that I'd want him to. He's got way more important things to do (help us, please Mr. President!).

Anyway, since I blogged last, I also have managed to have a second baby, so I honestly don't know whether I'm coming or going. Am I typing on my keyboard right now, or is this some kind of dream where I'm going to wake up to realize I've fallen asleep behind the wheel of my minivan again?

Just kidding - I don't actually fall asleep while driving (knock on wood). Although I do have a minivan. Which one is scarier? My younger brother says driving the minivan is his worst nightmare - next to showing up at high school without having studied for a final exam wearing only his boxers. But I have two kids (almost under two), and well, you try putting a dual stroller in the trunk of an Accord. I have, and there was a lot of cursing involved.

Anyway, I am back in my blogging glory. Well, okay, maybe my glory days are behind me, but I promise that I'll blog more than once a year. Like, maybe even tomorrow, if I can get the girls to nap at the same time.