Calling Eva Sikka…you have one week to send me your snail mail address or I will pick another winner for the multicultural box of books!
Did you notice I skipped yesterday? I blew off all work and played hookie with a 4-year-old. She called early AM to say, “Nina, whatcha doin’?”—and that’s all it took to convince me. I’m such a marshmallow.
But back to the Romantic Times Convention. I suppose this view doesn’t look like much fun—unless you’re one of the authors waiting for the throng outside the doors to rush through.
This was the line outside the Urban Street Party that Kimberly Kaye Terry captained.
This one’s probably more of what you’re thinking the whole event is all about.
Yes, I got past my shyness (cough) to have my picture taken with one of the Mr. Romance contestants. Stefan Pinto was handsome and surprisingly intelligent. And doesn’t that just prove my prejudice toward models?!
And here are some random pictures of friends of mine.
Oops! You can’t read Ashlyn Chase’s name plate here.
And then I met someone I’ve known online since I first published at Ellora’s Cave. A fangirl named Danny.
And that’s the real reason I love going to RT.
Overall, Orlando was a beautiful choice for the conference this year. It was warm, but thankfully not oppressively hot. The hotel was a little too spread out. I prefer having a vertical hotel to one spread out over acres and acres because I like having a common area to meet. But we improvised. The pool outside our building became a meeting place. We just had to provide the incentive to get other authors to make the trek (sangria!).
I participated in some awesome workshops. Sis, Sasha White and I provided a tongue-in-cheek look at getting published. I sat on an erotica panel with Kimberly Kaye Terry and L.A. Banks. And I know there was a third, but it completely slips my mind what it was about. See, that’s why I don’t drink at conference!! Oh, it was about ebook to print publishing with Ann Jacobs and Angela Knight.
And of course, diets were completely forgotten. We ate goooood. But with all the walking we did over that expansive hotel I didn’t gain a pound. So there’s a mixed blessing. Hamburger feet or tight clothes? Hmmm….