By: Jaycie Cash

I came late to the party.

Charlaine Harris’s Sookie Stackhouse books are nothing new—neither is True Blood, the HBO series based on Harris’s novels—but I haven’t delved into either . . . until now. The books weren’t something I’d intentionally avoided, they’d just never made their way to the top of my “To Read” pile. As for the television show, I think it’s always competed with something I regularly watch.

Then Lisa, the woman who does my nails, offered to loan me the first two books in the series, both of which she had at the shop that day. Knowing she’d expect them back in a reasonable period of time and would want to discuss them, I not only took them home but quickly read them. I live by the credo that it is unwise to risk upsetting anyone who regularly works on you with sharp objects.

And boy, am I ever glad I finally read them! Charlaine Harris is a terrific writer and her books are a wonderful take on the paranormal, a genre so busy right now that it could fill the coffins of any funeral home to overflowing.

What came as a surprise to me, however, is that the Sookie Stackhouse books have several similarities to my debut novel, Mrs. Goodfeller. I wasn’t suspecting that because there’s nothing paranormal about my romantic suspense cum comedic thriller.

However, there’s no denying that both Sookie and Elyse, the protagonist of Mrs. Goodfeller, have lived their whole lives in small towns, Sookie in Bon Temps, Louisiana, and Elyse in Scissortail, Oklahoma. Plus, neither woman has ever received the respect she so richly deserves from the majority of the folks who’ve known her all her life.

But the most surprising similarity to me was that both Dead Until Dark, the first of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, and MRS. GOODFELLER have a character who is more than loosely based on the man from Memphis . . . a fellow many have long-called The King. In Mrs. Harris’s novel he is now known as Bubba and has become a vampire who lost the vast majority of his smarts when he was “turned.” In mine he’s Aaron, who now lives in Vegas, where he’s honored as the greatest Elvis impersonator of them all.

Guess it just goes to show if you cast a long-enough shadow while you’re alive, there’s no telling where folks might envision you ending up after you’re dead—or whether they’ll even believe you are . . . dead, that is.

HOW ABOUT YOU, HAVE YOU EVER HAD AN ELVIS SIGHTING, EITHER IN REAL LIFE OR WHILE READING A BOOK? I’LL BE GIVING A FREE COPY OF MRS. GOODFELLER TO A READER WHO LEAVES A COMMENT.

 Jaycie Cash blogs on a regular basis for Writerspace.com. Her debut novel, MRS. GOODFELLER, is available through most major eBook outlets, including Amazon and >Barnes and Noble. She’d love for you to like her Facebook Author page.

Story ideas don’t usually wake me up.

This one did.

I remember it so clearly, though it’s now been many years ago: I woke from a deep sleep with the whole plot for STEALING KEVIN’S HEART in my head. I knew the names of Rachel and Kevin and I knew what would happen to them.

I remember trying to go back to bed, but my brain was filled with images and dialogue and pieces of what would this October become my first book.

Despite my best efforts, I could not return to sleep.

So, I stumbled out of bed and wrote the idea down on a reporter’s notebook I keep on my desk. (At my house, because of my line of work, there’s always a stray reporter’s notebook lying around.)

Anyway, I wrote the plot idea on the pad and crawled back into bed. A few days later I looked at what I had written. Believe me it was tough to read: my handwriting is horrible and I was half asleep when I scribbled it down.

Despite that, as I re-read my notes, Alex appeared in my mind’s eye, and I knew he would be the protagonist.

Even after all this time, I still don’t know exactly what triggered the idea for STEALING KEVIN’S HEART, all I know is that the story woke me up and it wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it down on paper.

Have you ever had an idea or message come to you in a dream? One that you couldn’t shake? Did you act on it? If so, what happened—good, bad or ugly!

One commenter on this blog will win a signed copy of STEALING KEVIN'S HEART!

After a rather hard and crazy year, Hubcap (my husband) and I decided to take a much needed vacation to the Greek Isles. As many of you know we lost my mom in April. She had been sick for many years, and although we know she’s out of pain now, it is still hard to cope with not having her with us!

Hubcap and I took a cruise traveling through parts of Italy and Greece – I must say, I did find much inspiration in those Greek Hotties, I’m sure they will find their way into my books! While it was hard to be away from my kids and grandkids for so long, it was a time of refreshing and reflection on all the things that have happened over the last few months!

This got me thinking that many of us are in the same place - Fall is often a time when people stop to reflect on their life, set goals and start fresh! I’ve been accused many times of over thinking things, but I think it is important to stop, reflect and reorganize life when needed. Through all of the chaos of the last few months, I realize that I need to take a little time for myself. When I returned from the cruise and saw my ever growing TBR pile of books I really want to read, I knew that I needed to stop and take a little time for myself and dive into some of them. One of my goals this fall is to see my pile dwindle rather than increase! The only way to do that is to take a little time for myself and read!

I hope you are doing the same thing – taking time for you. When you have time be sure to pick up a copy of THE SPY WHO WANTS ME (Kensington Brava) that was rereleased in Mass Market Paperback this October!

Note from Jenny J: Lucy Monroe will be giving away a copy of SATISFACTION GUARANTEED to one lucky commenter on her blog!

By: Jaycie Cash

I grew up with my bra strap showing.

From the age of 11 on, I was aware that if something could go wrong with my clothes it would. Naturally, it wouldn’t happen until I was in the most embarrassing spot possible, but happen it would.

A treasure-trove of broken zippers—the most memorable in front of the punchbowl at a formal dance when I was practically doing a backbend, trying to avoid the unwelcome advances of a drunken chaperone (don’t ask)—broken heels, popped buttons, hooks that lured eyes away from the cloth to which they’d been sewn, snaps that insisted on being free and single and letting their freak flag fly . . . you name it and I’ve experienced it. And, no, none of this was the result of wearing a size or three too small. Not that I’m above that sort of thing, just too well versed in the likelihood of disaster to give it a try.

All of that to say I’m in no position to judge others for a wardrobe malfunction.

Before I go any further it’s important for me to stress I deeply admire Dolly Parton. What’s not to like? She’s not just her own person, she’s kind and polite to others (at least while on talk shows), witty and seems sweetly confident. And lets not forget she’s a brilliant businesswoman: she wrote—but more importantly kept the rights to—a lot of hit songs. Plus, she has her own darn amusement park. Who else do you know who can say that? There’s no Jayciewood out there, my friends. And one isn’t likely to pop up anytime soon.

What I like most of all, however, is that quick though Dolly is to admit her style has yet to be universally adopted, she isn’t afraid to embrace it publicly, proudly, completely and pretty darn tightly (something I could never bring myself to do for all the reasons mentioned above). I’m particularly fond of something I’ve heard her say more than once on a talk show or some other venue: “It costs a lot to look this cheap.”

Come on, admit it, ya gotta love her.

So when I heard she was gonna be a guest on a late-night talk show recently, I made it a point to watch. Never one to disappoint, Dolly was her usual delightful self. It was when she performed at the end of the program, standing on an extremely bright stage, that my eyebrows—in need as they so often are of a bit of judicious plucking—reached new heights on my forehead. Dolly was wearing a tight-fitting top and a full, rather gauzy skirt. She was not, however, wearing a slip.

A slip would have been a good idea.

Two slips probably wouldn’t have hurt.

Essentially, standing in front of the light as she was, she needn’t have worn the skirt at all. But it’s only fair to point out that Dolly Parton has the most toned thighs I’ve ever seen on a woman living deep in the heart of her 6th decade. Now, do I think she wanted some publicity and as a result schemed and planned to display her well-toned gams, and therefore intentionally left her slip on her tour bus that night? I most certainly do not. Caw caw happens, my friends, even to the best and most famous of us.

Do I think less of the magnificent Parton for having this type of thing happen while appearing on national television? How could someone with my clothing history in good conscience do so? How could anyone who’s read this far even ask that question?

There’s no question in my mind that Dolly at some point realized or was told about the skirt issue. Heck, it’s not like it happened in a non-public manner to an unknown person. If she was someone who wanted or needed ANY type of publicity, I’m sure her publicists would have been all over that story, building it into a major event the next day. But they didn’t and it wasn’t. Five will get you ten, it you weren’t watching that night, this is the first you’ve heard of the whole thing.

I’m convinced that being who and what she is (a seasoned, professional performer) Dolly laughed the incident off after making a mental note to always check to make sure her skirt is lined or her slip is on prior to performing in the future. Then she most likely went on her way without giving the matter another thought, because Dolly Parton is comfortable in her own skin.

Elyse Smith, the protagonist of my debut novel, Mrs. Goodfeller, however is not. The Rodney Dangerfield of Scissortail, OK, Elyse has never gotten any respect and has had more than her share of malfunctions in her life, wardrobe and otherwise.

How about you? Have you ever suffered through a public wardrobe malfunction? Have you witnessed an incident where someone else (other than Janet Jackson) had this problem? If so, I’d love to hear about it (please leave out the name of anyone who might have reason to be embarrassed) . . . along with any lessons you learned as a result.

 Jaycie Cash blogs on a regular basis for Writerspace.com. Her debut novel, MRS. GOODFELLER, is available through most major eBook outlets, including Amazon and >Barnes and Noble. She’d love for you to like her Facebook Author page.