Sweat, Saguaros and What's Next for Scarlet Springs

First, I wanted to say thanks to everyone who grabbed a copy of Slow Burn. You pushed it into the top 100 for sports romance and contemporary romance on Amazon. Thanks, too, for all the terrific reviews. Word of mouth is everything to an author.

The book is available in paperback through Amazon now, too.

In the meantime, I thought I’d catch you all up on what’s been going on at Casa Clare.

My younger son, Benjamin, just got back from a five-day trip to Phoenix, where he competed in the Western CMP Games — a rifle marksmanship competition. We drove down in a single day — something we will never, ever do again.

The cool thing about the drive was that it took us through so many different ecosystems, from the distinct Front Range ecosystem to the high mountains to the canyons and arid area around Grand Junction to Moab through red canyon lands to the mountains near Flagstaff and then into the Sonoran Desert. There is such a diversity of landscape here in the U.S.

We talked the entire way. I was so tired outside Phoenix that some of my comments were sort of dreamlike train of consciousness. Benjamin laughed and asked, “What does that even mean?” I had no idea. We arrived (finally!) at 3:30 a.m. I spent the next day recovering from that, while Benjamin got registered for the competition.

He entered four different matches, shooting his as-issued M1 Garand battle rifle, which dates to WWII and saw service during that war. And, very long story short, he won four medals — two bronzes and two silvers.

It was a super hard-fought competition for him. He shot an absolutely perfect first round of slow-fire prone — 100 2x — but ran into trouble in the slow-fire standing when a wind storm blew in and pelted all of us with sand, making it impossible to fire and forcing him to rush his shots. Twice he came within a few points of a gold medal.

The next day, his sights came loose, and he had to adjust and tighten them, losing precious time. (All of the courses of fire are timed.) I sat there watching with my heart in my throat, wondering if he'd even have time to get off all 10 shots in that round. He did — and he got the silver. That is grace under pressure.

About Phoenix: It was hotter than shit. I don't know how people live there.

Also, there were signs up warning us about tarantulas, scorpions and rattlesnakes on the range. We discovered these flying monstrosities called tarantual wasps on our own. Arizona, you can keep those.

We took time to meet with my cousin Daniel and his wife Jennifer, which was a real treat. We’re already making plans to get together again.

We changed our plans to drive home in one shot and booked a hotel room in Grand Junction. We arrived there at 1:30 a.m., not quite as dull-witted as we’d been rolling into Phoenix. Again, we were struck by the amazing landscapes all the way home. America the beautiful, indeed.

On the way back, Benjamin let me talk through what I know about Jesse Moretti’s story so far. Ellen Meeks (mentioned in Barely Breathing), a war widow with little twins, is going to be his heroin. No hints at this point what the story is about. But I do hope to have it to you before the New Year.

Today, I have guests arriving from Denmark. One of my very best friends, a woman I’ve known since I was 17, is coming with her younger daughter and her boyfriend. I’ve been scrambling to get unpacked and get the house straightened up. This house is going to be full of exhausted people tonight — including me and Benjamin.

Have a good rest of your week!