Right now she is staggering around the neighborhood in her pajamas, walking her dog, and their matching crazy bedhead hairstyles are probably the talk of the entire town. Mini, who no doubt is named after my fabulous car, is wearing her new pink harness. You should have seen Shannon in PetSmart, ooohing and aaahing over little doggy bikinis and rhinestone-studded cheerleading outfits. The canine bling was insane. If you imagine Paris Hilton with a bad brunette perm and 2765-too-many trips to the all-you-can-eat Quarter Pounder buffet, you’ve got the picture.

Anyway, I had to take control of her computer. When Romanceland becomes mired in negativity—publishers screwing authors, authors trashing readers, authors whining about reviews, egomaniacal divas, and most especially the people who took a few too many whacks from the stupid stick—it affects her work very, very badly. Since I can barely get her fat, lazy ass in the chair as it is, I had to take drastic measures and cut her off.

She’s going to play in the mud this weekend, so you will be spared her inane ramblings until Monday. Hopefully I will have harassed her back into shape by then. In the meantime, Happy Cuarto de Julio! (Doesn’t have the same ring as Cinco de Mayo, does it?)