I'm a punster from a family of punsters. My late father used to delight in them, and my brother and his wife have made it an art form. They're Mensa members (as am I, also), and the yearly Halloween contest for the Chicago group offers a costume contest, with a chosen theme, and the winners are based on the puns their costumes create. One year the theme was Literary Heroes, and my brother made a copy of his credit card bill, enlarged it, and wrapped himself up in it. What was he? The "In-VISA-bill Man." I'll wait for the groaning to stop.
It's been said, "A pun is the lowest form of wit," to which I always add, "If you didn't think of it." I've put puns into the titles of my last three books, The Minnesota Romances.
So the seasons in my title can refer both to the spice that I put into all of my novels, which are erotic romances where the hot scenes that forge the bond between the heroine and hero are seen in graphic detail. They can also refer to the seasons of life.
When my kids started going to college, I pointed out to my husband that it was a lot more fun when I was the one going away, and not the one staying back home, paying the bills. Isn't that always the case? Now we have a wedding coming up in September, the first of our four is getting married. Our son couldn't have chosen a more wonderful woman for his wife. We've loved her since we met her.
Don't get me wrong, I don't miss being the one trying to keep all sides of the family happy, or planning all of the details of such a monumental event. But I'm thinking back to our wedding, over 30 years ago, and remembering how exciting it was to be embarking on a new phase in our relationship. I loved standing in front of everyone and proclaiming how much I loved this man, and promising to love him for the rest of my life. I had doubts up until the moment I said, "I do." Since then, there's never been a moment that I regretted my choice.
I'm also kind of jealous of their honeymoon, since her father is giving them his time-share week in the Bahamas. Sigh...a week in the sun, sipping tropical drinks, would feel great about now!
But it's their turn. They're the ones in summer, and we're in the autumn of our lives now. There's a lot to be said for each of the seasons. Some good, some bad, for each. But time marches on for all of us, so until we can figure out a way to time-travel, the only way we can move is ahead. Soon our family will be enlarged by one, though we've told his lady that she's already a part of our family...the ceremony is just a formality.
In my most recent book, Her Last Resort, the heroine, Stella, is in her middle 50s and retired after 30 years with the CIA. Her career broke up her marriage, and constant travel made it difficult to maintain a relationship with her two children. Now her adult daughter wants to spend some time with her, and invites her to spend two weeks up at a resort owned by the 50-year-old Ivan, whispered to be an ex-KGB agent. But someone is sending people after her to kill her, and she fears trouble will follow her, even up to the Boundary Waters area of Minnesota. Will she accept help, when it's offered? Can she atone for years of neglect, to earn her daughter's love? And what about the feelings she develops for the large ex-patriot Russian man?
Learn more about my books at: http://www.fionamcgier.com
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