Time Passes So Quickly...

I am about to attend the high school graduation of my oldest son.  (Yes, that’s him in the picture, but I’d dare anybody to try to recognize him now from this image.)  It seems like just a moment ago I was in the delivery room with him, and my husband looked up at me in amazement and said, “He’s pretty wonderful.  When are his parents going to come and take care of him?”  I look at the six-foot tall man before me and have a hard time putting him together with that small baby I held in my arms.  I’ve seen every stage of his development, yet it is hard to believe that one could have become the other.  Of course, there is NO WAY that I am old enough to be the mother of a college student.

We attended his college orientation last weekend and I felt caught out of time.  I wanted to be the one choosing classes and looking over the crowd, deciding who was a likely friend, with whom I could imagine staying up to the early hours of the morning have deep, deep discussion?  I was not ready to be the parent, to have crowds of eager, rising freshmen rush by me without even seeing me.  I wanted to have all of life in front of me once again.

And what does this have to do with books and romance?

When I pick up a book I do have it all before me again.  I’ve been rereading a bunch of my old favorites this early summer, and when I read them, I am back to exactly where I was the first time.  There are a few that are not what I remember, but mostly I can take that step back in time.  And even when I read a new book and get lost in it, I can be whomever I am reading about.  And it’s not often in real life that I kiss a duke, kill a vampire, steal a priceless piece of art, paraglide down to take out a terrorist, dance in a strip club, solve a murder (or commit one), have a half-dozen puppies running through my living room, or become a famous chef.  In fact, I’ve never done any of those things – but in my reading I’ve done all of them.

And writing is even better.  I can sit in my flower-filled back yard, listening to the birds, and become whomever and do whatever I want.  I can do it again and again.  When I write, I can fall in love for the first time – as many times as I want.  And I do want – because one of the great secrets of living is that we never grow older in our minds.  I am always that young girl gazing across the room at a man who, I can sense, will take my breath away.  Exactly what I consider young may change, but the feelings don’t.

At this point last summer I was frantically trying to finish the four novellas for my The Real Duchess of London series and having a great deal of fun (and a few headaches) trying to quickly come up with four different women and four different stories that all fulfilled my fantasies of true love.  I had just finished writing What a Duke Wants (my personal favorite).  I had allowed myself to be nineteen for six months, and went through a bit of shock as I head-bopped between my duchesses.

I am currently working on finishing the fifth novella, which I hope to have up by the end of the summer.  I am not working as fast as I’d like, because this duchess is very picky about what she wants to do and not do, but I am pushing her along.

And after her?  I am not quite sure.  I’ve got a couple of very different ideas brewing in my mind – and also another lonely Regency lady ready to meet her handsome lord at any moment.

And the rest of the time?  I may not be quite ready to watch my son graduate, but I am pretty happy being me, lying in the hammock gazing up at the trees and listening to the birds.  Time may go fast, but life is good.

Let me know how fast time is passing for you, and I’ll reward one lucky commenter with a set of my first four novellas (either paperback or Kindle).

I look forward to hearing from you.

Thanks for having me,

Lavinia

***Lavinia's winner is Jeanne M!  Please email me at totebag@authorsoundrelations.com with your full name and mailing info!***