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Many Happy Returns

I'm dragging butt this week (I know, I know it's only Tuesday) because the full time circulation clerk at work is on vacation. Sitting at the desk is really, really boring. It does, however, lend me time to practice my pitch. In my head, because I can only imagine the looks I'd get if I was saying it out loud. Yesterday was sooooo long and I have another afternoon of it when the part-time clerk goes home at one.

And it's my birthday, so I'm trying to figure out ways to stop time before the official minute of birth rolls around. I'm 19 ten years running if that tells you anything. I was feeling pretty cranky this morning because it thunder stormed all night and I didn't get much sleep, then when I got up, my back was killing me because our mattress is evil wrapped in white polyester. So I'm thinking I have a whole day of boringness to look forward to with an egg sandwich for lunch.

Until I checked my e-mail. And found this link: Congratulations to the Finalists in our 2011 Weta Nichols Fiction Writing Contest. Because my name is on that list! Of course, the first words out of my mouth were a little too vulgar to share. I was shocked. Because under my name is the title of the novel I least expected to final. It has a bad rep in contests. You know the one I mean. The Treasure Hunter's Lady. I figured if I finaled, it would be with Jacob's Harvest, the historical romance.

There were 99 entries. From around the world. My legs went temporarily numb,my eyes welled with tears and my heart dang near burst through my chest. All with happiness, of course. Whose legs go numb with happiness? It's weird, I know.

Wow, I can't believe it. What a great b-day present.

Now, for a little cajoling. Come to the Ozark Romance Author's 2011 Conference. Or else. I'll be there and who doesn't want to see me? I know I do. ;)

Also, and very importantly, happy birthday to my mom. Yes, we share a birthday. She tried to convince me for years that mine was the 27th so she could have her own, but obviously the truth came out. Love you, Mom!

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