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JUNE SWOON
Where did this year go and why can’t I catch up to March?
But I’m not going to list all the ailments and other disasters. I’d probably leave out several if I tried (anesthesia definitely plays games with the memory, at least for about six months). As of this very moment (pause to make sure I still have all my appendages), I am—as are most of the others—on the road to recovery. It’s bumpy, but I bounce pretty well. I haven’t been able to do much writing for over a month—chronic back problems, but not one of the causes of being hospitalized. I’m regaining my strength from recent surgery. Next week, I’m heading back to Alpine. I was at the halfway point when I was forced to stop.
In other news, last year’s B&B hardcover, Scots on the Rocks, is due out from Avon Books in late July. The newcomer to the series, Vi Agra Falls from William Morrow, will follow in a few days (the author is always the last
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The answer is: It’s been The Year of Living Dangerously. Or at least unhealthily. Regardless of age, sex, or even species, this family has gone through one darned thing after another. Cousin Judy, who has had so many health problems the past few years, was puzzled this spring when her doctor mentioned that she hadn’t been hospitalized since February. Judy (read that as Judith McMonigle Flynn’s alter ego) informed her doctor that was untrue—she’d been in the hospital in early March. She leaned forward and studied the piles of charts. “Oh—I see. You have only Volumes I and II. You’d better send for Volume III and catch up.”
to know exact dates—must admit, I get tired of saying that, but it’s true). For those of you familiar with the B&B regulars, the reference is to Vi or Vivian (aka Herself), who is Joe Flynn’s ex-wife. Yes, she returns from
Florida and moves back into the house in the cozy cul-de-sac just a stone’s throw from Hillside Manor. It goes without
saying (but I will anyway) that Judith is not pleased. Joe isn’t too happy about it, either. But Herself’s arrival seems innocent at first, despite the presence of her most recent husband, the muscle-bound former minor league baseball player, Billy “Blunder” Buss. Stand by for the box score—there are some runs, some hits, and plenty of errors. As for the game stat of “men left on base”—well, it is Herself, after all, so you may interpret that any way you like. What I like about this outing for the cousins is the fun I had writing it. I hope you like it, too.
