hadn’t stopped Amanda and Brandy Ann from getting their way though, had it? Was it the mother of all coincidences that Brandy Ann’s room had suddenly “opened up,” or what?
No mistaking it. I was getting a bad feeling about this.
“You can come along with George and me once he shows up,” I heard Nana say close behind me. “Most days, he don’t even need no map.”
I turned around to find her standing with Marla Michaels and Gillian Jones, whose five-foot-by-five-foot Florence map was already resembling a wind - battered kite, and they hadn’t even stepped outside yet.
“We need to get…here,” Gillian said, poking the map with her forefinger. “Duncan says that’s where the clothing stores are.”
“Maybe we should be creative about our clothes situation,” Marla suggested as she smoothed her muumuu over her hips. “We could try lashing some leaves together. Remember? You did that so cleverly in your book about the spoiled dyslexic supermodel heroine.” She touched Nana’s shoulder, making her a captive audience. “What a story, Marion. The heroine was marooned on a desert island with a playboy rodeo cowboy who was trying to fly to Fiji to see the son he didn’t realize he’d fathered by her blind sister. Uh! A real tearjerker. And I did
not
agree with the
Kirkus Reviews
critic who said it should have been entitled,
Dumb and Dumber.
How unkind.”
Hunh. I wondered if Jack had read that one.
Gillian refolded the map into an origami lump that resembled Texas…minus the panhandle. “It’s so nice of you to say that, Marla. The critic certainly ended up eating her words, didn’t she? Who would have guessed that
A Cowboy in Paradise
would go back to press twenty-six times and sell over two million copies?”
“Imagine.” Marla clasped her hands to indicate amazement. “I bet you have a good chance of matching my
Barbarian’s Bride
sales. You only have a meager — what, two million to go? And I’m sure you’ll succeed, especially when the
New York Times Book Review
describes your writing as ‘vibrantly pitch-perfect.’ ”
“Don’t forget ‘deceptively accessible and luminous,’ ” Gillian added.
“Luminous. How could I have omitted luminous? Not to mention, ‘a deft portrayal of the human condition.’ ” Marla placed her hand over her heart. “Well-deserved praise, which just goes to show that the Amazon.com reviewer who said your heroine was ‘too stupid to live’ was way off base.”
Gillian’s mouth lengthened into a stiff smile. “Do you suppose she was the same woman who gave your
Barbarian’s Bride
that blistering one-star review?”
Marla stopped breathing for an instant. Her eyes lasered on Gillian. “That’s the trouble with Amazon. Too many uninformed people handing out opinions. Take
your
one-star review, for instance. The reviewer blasted you for allowing your cowpoke to boink a woman six thousand times and not get her pregnant. I thought the criticism was completely unfounded, and very mean-spirited.”
Gillian heaved a breathy sigh and wadded her map into a new shape that looked suspiciously like a headless crane. Obviously no subliminal implications there.
“If the reviewer had bothered to read to the end,” Gillian sputtered, “she would have understood that Spur had contracted a mysterious disease years earlier that had left him with a low sperm count. He couldn’t
have
children. That’s why he was so hot to find the son he
did
father.”
Spur? The hero’s name was Spur? I cringed. Who’d name a baby Spur?
Nana tapped Gillian on the arm. “Might not a been the mysterious disease what caused Spur’s condition. Mighta been his underwear. If it’s too tight, it can cause a fella’s privates to heat up somethin’ fierce and to kill off all the little buggers. I seen it on the Discovery Channel. You recollect whether your cowboy wore boxers or briefs?”
“I can answer that,” Marla piped up. “Gillian is so inventive. Spur wore a
No mistaking it. I was getting a bad feeling about this.
“You can come along with George and me once he shows up,” I heard Nana say close behind me. “Most days, he don’t even need no map.”
I turned around to find her standing with Marla Michaels and Gillian Jones, whose five-foot-by-five-foot Florence map was already resembling a wind - battered kite, and they hadn’t even stepped outside yet.
“We need to get…here,” Gillian said, poking the map with her forefinger. “Duncan says that’s where the clothing stores are.”
“Maybe we should be creative about our clothes situation,” Marla suggested as she smoothed her muumuu over her hips. “We could try lashing some leaves together. Remember? You did that so cleverly in your book about the spoiled dyslexic supermodel heroine.” She touched Nana’s shoulder, making her a captive audience. “What a story, Marion. The heroine was marooned on a desert island with a playboy rodeo cowboy who was trying to fly to Fiji to see the son he didn’t realize he’d fathered by her blind sister. Uh! A real tearjerker. And I did
not
agree with the
Kirkus Reviews
critic who said it should have been entitled,
Dumb and Dumber.
How unkind.”
Hunh. I wondered if Jack had read that one.
Gillian refolded the map into an origami lump that resembled Texas…minus the panhandle. “It’s so nice of you to say that, Marla. The critic certainly ended up eating her words, didn’t she? Who would have guessed that
A Cowboy in Paradise
would go back to press twenty-six times and sell over two million copies?”
“Imagine.” Marla clasped her hands to indicate amazement. “I bet you have a good chance of matching my
Barbarian’s Bride
sales. You only have a meager — what, two million to go? And I’m sure you’ll succeed, especially when the
New York Times Book Review
describes your writing as ‘vibrantly pitch-perfect.’ ”
“Don’t forget ‘deceptively accessible and luminous,’ ” Gillian added.
“Luminous. How could I have omitted luminous? Not to mention, ‘a deft portrayal of the human condition.’ ” Marla placed her hand over her heart. “Well-deserved praise, which just goes to show that the Amazon.com reviewer who said your heroine was ‘too stupid to live’ was way off base.”
Gillian’s mouth lengthened into a stiff smile. “Do you suppose she was the same woman who gave your
Barbarian’s Bride
that blistering one-star review?”
Marla stopped breathing for an instant. Her eyes lasered on Gillian. “That’s the trouble with Amazon. Too many uninformed people handing out opinions. Take
your
one-star review, for instance. The reviewer blasted you for allowing your cowpoke to boink a woman six thousand times and not get her pregnant. I thought the criticism was completely unfounded, and very mean-spirited.”
Gillian heaved a breathy sigh and wadded her map into a new shape that looked suspiciously like a headless crane. Obviously no subliminal implications there.
“If the reviewer had bothered to read to the end,” Gillian sputtered, “she would have understood that Spur had contracted a mysterious disease years earlier that had left him with a low sperm count. He couldn’t
have
children. That’s why he was so hot to find the son he
did
father.”
Spur? The hero’s name was Spur? I cringed. Who’d name a baby Spur?
Nana tapped Gillian on the arm. “Might not a been the mysterious disease what caused Spur’s condition. Mighta been his underwear. If it’s too tight, it can cause a fella’s privates to heat up somethin’ fierce and to kill off all the little buggers. I seen it on the Discovery Channel. You recollect whether your cowboy wore boxers or briefs?”
“I can answer that,” Marla piped up. “Gillian is so inventive. Spur wore a
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