Sunday, July 29, 2012
Sunday, July 29, 2012
This week (Tuesday) is the publication day for WHEN YOU WISH UPON A DUKE, my first historical romance written as Isabella Bradford for Ballantine/Random House. For international readers often stymied by Amazon's downloads, the book will also be published as an ebook in the UK by Headline. I'll be sharing more about the Duke of Marchbourne and his arranged bride Lady Charlotte Wylder (and the history that inspired them) all this week.
But first, a bit of personal history. Regular readers will have noticed that Loretta's been doing all the heavy-lifting here for the last ten days or so, and that I've been MIA on Pinterest, FB, and Twitter as well. I wish I could tell you I'd been lolling on some holiday-isle, but alas, that wasn't the case. On Friday, July 20, I was settling down to write. My husband and daughter were off to see Dark Knight, and I was looking forward to a good, quiet, productive afternoon. I was feeling a little 'off', but that was easily blamed on the usual writer combo of too much caffeine and too little sleep. What else is new?
But that off-ness abruptly changed to nausea and vomiting, and when my family returned from the movie, I sent my husband off to the drug store for an OTC remedy. Fifteen minutes later, he found me passed out on the floor, and called 911. I can only remember weird fragments from the rest of the day - the tension in the curt voices around me in the Emergency Room, my daughter crying, the blood-draws and IV's - and how much everything just plain hurt. Turned out I had a double-whammy of acute pancreatitis and cholecystitis, completely out of the blue and with no prior history or warnings.
By all reports, I nearly died.
I spent the next eight days in the hospital, looked after by an amazing team of nurses and doctors. I'm home now, at last, though only long enough to beef myself up to have my gall bladder removed. The surgeon is welcome to it. I've been assured that when all this is done, I'll once again be my usual rude-animal-health-self. The old adage promises that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and I'm looking forward to becoming one awesome, improved model.
Now, about the Duke of Marchbourne. . . .