For those of you who enjoy a good tale of suspense, check out Deborah Leblanc's new book Grave Intent. Here are Deborah's answers to the two pressing questions I've been asking all the Girls Cyber Circuit authors:

Q: What song would you love to find out was written about you?
A: "The Impossible Dream." :)

Q: If you were going to be the inspiration for a song, what would its title be?
A: "No Matter What!"

Here's a little blurb about Grave Intent, and you can find out more on Deborah's web site at www.deborahleblanc.com

In all their years at the funeral home, Janet and Michael Savoy had never seen anything like the viewing for nineteen-year-old Thalia Stevenson. That's because they had never witnessed a Gypsy funeral before, complete with rituals, incantations, and a very special gold coin placed beneath the dead girl's hands...

When that coin is stolen, a horror is unleashed. If the Savoys don't find the coin and return it to Thalia's grave before the rising of the second sun, someone in their family--perhaps their little daughter--will die a merciless death. The ticking away of each hour brings the Savoy family closer to a gruesome, inescapable nightmare. Only one thing is certain--Gypsies always have their revenge . . . even the dead ones.

One of the great things about friends is that they can remind you of things you've totally forgotten (of course, this can work for you, when it's something good, or against you, when they've remembered something you'd actually rather forget). My friend Vicki just sent me an e-mail about something I'd totally forgotten. It was so funny she had me laughing out loud, and, considering I'm typing this in a public place, made me look a little silly.

Our senior year of college we lived in on-campus apartments. During our second semester we decided that, as soon-to-be-graduates, we should have a keg on tap at all times. Well, the college didn't take too kindly to this idea, and Vicki and I ended up getting summoned to the Dean's office, where said Dean started in on us. Of course, this was during a whole period when they were cracking down on underage drinking - we were all over 21 - and responsible drinking, blah, blah, blah. This Dean didn't think that we should be having a non-stop party in our campus apartment.

As Vicki remembers it, myself and this Dean started going at it about the definition of what a party is. I apparently told the Dean that the presence of a keg does not define anything (other than a possible drinking problem). I then used my 22 year-old's logic to explain that, in fact, a keg was more cost efficient than purchasing cases of beer, and infinitely more convenient. I then argued that,technically, if you have a keg in your apartment it does't necessarily mean you're having a party, it may just mean that you like to drink a lot.

Did I really say this to one of the most powerful people at the college, someone who had the ability to screw me over right before graduation? Apparently so. Of course, the recollection of this event in the Dean's office is coming from someone who was fined for public drunkeness our freshman year, so I have to wonder about the veracity of the story. Although it does make me sound like one kick-ass ballsy chick. And I don't mind that so much as I mind the idea that I'd try to convince a Dean that an in-house keg is practically a constitutional right.

This weekend I had a great idea - a family picnic! In honor of the fourth of July weekend, I thought my family should go on a picnic just like my husband I used to do in the olden days (ie. before the kids came along). We used to pack up some yummy sandwiches and a big blanket, John would bring his guitar and we'd just hang out and soak up the sun. Well,this picnic started out a little different.

My kids loved the idea of a picnic, but since we had no food in the house to make sandwiches (not uncommon in our house on a Saturday, as my husband doesn't grocery shop until Sunday), my kids suggested McDonald's Happy Meals. And I said I'd have Subway. So, we packed up the picnic set we got as a wedding gift and headed out. Of course, once we were in the car I asked if anyone had brought the blanket I put on the kitchen counter. Blank stares from the back seat. My hands were full with the picnic set, and my son insisted we bring his bike, so I was loading it into the back of the car, but I guess I was also expected to remember to bring the blanket. So, we decided we'd find a picnic table instead of lounging on a blanket. So much for my ideas of the four of us sitting in the sun relaxing as we stared up at the clouds.

Then we had to make the trip to McDonalds and Subway. We arrived at our picnic spot, unloaded the bike and our food and made our way to a picnic table by the side of a river - where motor boats buzzed along bringing my idea of a peaceful, quiet picnic to a halt. Then my daughter decided to check out the river and came back with some lovely shells - which really turned out to be broken glass from discarded beer bottles. The finishing touch was when a couple of bees decided to attack the french fries and burgers, obviously in addition to sweets, bees enjoy high sodium snacks.

Sixty minutes from start to finish, our picnic was over, and so was my old fashioned notion of family picnics.