It all started Friday. My husband came home early from work just in time for me to grab a quick shower and get dressed for that rarest of events–an evening out with the gals. A small group of us met at a charming Greek restaurant and celebrated.

The reason?

I’ve written a book!

I normally don’t toot my own horn, blow my own trumpet, or jump up and down screaming ‘look at me!’ In fact, I’m horrible at it. Sometimes, I wish I could be more like my husband and walk around wearing an Iron Maiden hat with the words ‘I am awesome!’ painted on it.

I can’t.

So a group of my friends decided to tackle the issue for me and we went out for dinner. It was a wonderful evening filled with grilled halloumi, savory olives, hilarious stories, congratulatory wishes and moments of encouragement. I wish we could do it more often, not just save these times for the big moments in our lives. Because I have some amazing friends, and when I’m around them I become a better person.

After a late morning start on Saturday, my talented, patient husband spent most of the afternoon finishing The Map. The Map has been the one thing that threatened to unravel it all. The Map that I painstakingly drew years ago, only to revise 2,314 times as Joelle’s story developed in unexpected ways. The Map that had us wondering whether the tall pointy mountain was best or if the smaller blurry one was better. The Map that gave us both headaches, heart palpitations and visions of green fairies dancing over our heads. When you see it, you’ll never realize the pain this map created in our lives.

With our cursed map finally ready, we set about formatting the book directly into Kindle. It was after midnight when we finished. I rubbed my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness long enough to focus on the publish button in the lower right-hand corner. He placed his hand on top of mine and together we clicked on it.

It was almost anti-climatic. I’d spent almost seven years on this project! My computer should have known that. My humility on Friday had vanished. I wanted confetti shot into the air and someone blowing into one of those annoying noisemakers. What I got was even better. My husband leaned over, kissed me and then we high-fived each other.

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Best congratulatory weekend ever.

If you’d like to order your kindle copy of Ashborne, you can do so by clicking on the book cover image in the sidebar. As I hit the other platforms, I’ll post updates.

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