Monday, January 31, 2022


 My father accused me of being a thief. Actually, he accused my husband, but after being married for almost 27 years (whoa), it’s almost the same thing (not legally, I know, but for this purpose of this blog, it is). Especially since he called me, and not my husband. 

I’m almost 52 years old, and it’s like the man doesn’t know me. At all.


I mean, come on. I’m his daughter. His only daughter. His only child, for that matter. So, it’s not like he mistook me for his other child, the one he’s ashamed of. He doesn’t have one of those (that I know of). As I’ve said to him multiple times, there was no way they could have done better than me, so they stopped at one. 


He should know he taught me better than to steal something. And if I were going to steal something, does he really think I’d waste my energy and time and freedom for batteries? I’d go for something way more expensive, like jewelry or money or chocolate. Does he not remember taking me shopping? Does he not remember complaining about my expensive taste (and then buying it for me anyway)? 


Now, why does he need batteries? I probably don’t want to know. He says it’s for their wall clock. I’m going along with that, because when a man who’s married to my mom for more than 50 years, and who does everything with her like a matching pair of socks, claims to need batteries, those of us who are related to him really don’t want to ask too many questions. Covering my eyes and my ears and singing very loudly to drown out his protestations.


Oh, and about that only child thing? In the future, he might want to consider very carefully what he accuses me of doing. Because as his only child, I’m in charge of his future nursing home. Just saying.


***This blog has been thoroughly vetted by my dad prior to publishing. In addition to teaching me not to steal, he’s also responsible for my sense of humor. Lucky him.***

Monday, January 24, 2022

Bon Voyage

 Well, she made it to Israel. After umpteen bumps along the way including:


·      Missing the original emails inviting her to apply for the fellowship;

·      Not submitting her documents to her school in time to get her visa over Thanksgiving;

·      Being advised by her university not to go abroad;

·      Being told by her university that abroad classes held remotely won’t count for credit;

·      COVID spikes;

·      Israel closes its borders;

·      Program doesn’t have a clear path forward due to COVID uncertainty;

·      Israeli Consulate in NYC cancels her visa appointment (COVID’s fault);

·      Israeli Consulate in Washington, DC won’t make visa appointments for NJ residents;

·      Israeli Consulate opens up, but earliest visa appointment is a week after her flight takes off;

·      1st Covid test taken too early;

·      Plus a myriad other things that my brain has blocked out because there’s only so much I can endure before I completely shut down.


But we got her to the airport, through the scary Israeli security who made her recite the Ve’ahaftah in the middle of the airport (hee hee). Her baggage made it onto—and off—the plane. At least, I assume so since I didn’t get a call or text about it (her bedding and towels didn’t make it, and I did get a text about that, but I think she’s dealing with it). And she is now in her apartment quarantining with the rest of the fellows. 


I feel twelve pounds lighter and miraculously, I don’t have a headache for the first time in about a month. Who’d a thunk?

So now I can concentrate on other things, like my upcoming book, which is available for preorder


Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Welcome, Alana Lorens

People ask me often about my “writing process.” Mostly other writers, I guess, since we all read craft books and watch videos by authors trying to share what works for them, or attend workshops, or sign up for Masterclass spreads. We’re all trying to find the one way, the key to opening that door to the next big bestseller.

I’d love to say that I have jimmied together some marvelous pattern that has led me to fame and fortune. Alas, not so, yet far otherwise. (nod to Rudyard.) I honestly just…well…write.

I don’t use a formula—i.e. must meet in first chapter, must kiss by page 45, must have mad sex by page 50, etc. I don’t even write consistently in one genre. I write romance and suspense as Alana Lorens, sci-fi, fantasy and paranormal as Lyndi Alexander, and even have a how-to divorce book under my last married name, Barbara Walton. I start with some “what-if?” and roll from there.

In my latest second-chance romance the question is, what if a mommyblogger using an assumed name and avatar to write an edgy column supporting the life of a single mother reveals her true self at her high school reunion? And what if her former boyfriend is a member of a group that dislikes said name and avatar—but he wants to be with the mommyblogger? What happens when the truth comes out and shocks everyone?


Up-and-coming mommyblogger and single mom Marisol Herrera Slade returns to her old hometown in western Pennsylvania for her 20th high school reunion in 2005, reluctant and yet compelled to see her high school sweetheart, Russell Asher, who dumped her for the homecoming queen.

Russell's marriage to the golden girl, however, ended in a nasty divorce, and he has been systematically excluded from his sons' lives. In his Internet wanderings, he's found feminist blogger named Jerrika Jones, who glorifies single motherhood, essentially putting a stamp of approval on what's happened to him. His group of single dad advocates have vowed to take this woman down.

What Russell doesn't know, when he thinks to rekindle what he had with Marisol, is that Marisol and Jerrika are one and the same. When his group discovers the truth, will their drive for revenge derail any chance the couple have to reunite? Or will they find they have more in common than they ever expected?


Debbie grinned at Russell. “I was hoping you’d come. We’re just planning some events for the dance at the gym tomorrow night, the eighties splash, you know, and I remembered you and Tiffany doing the Pee Wee Big Shoe Dance.” 

A flash of embarrassment ran through him as he remembered it, too. What a geek he’d been. “Oh, geeze, Debbie. Can’t you remember some of what I did on the basketball court instead?”

“We haven’t forgotten that,” Angela purred, her eyes hungry as she watched him. “Those thin jerseys didn’t cover much.” 

Russell swallowed hard. “Well. I…ah…” Maybe not that much remembering. “What about that Pee-Wee thing again? What was that song?” 

“ ‘Tequila,’ ” came a quiet voice from behind him. He turned slowly to see who spoke. Marisol Herrera. Marisol Herrera Slade now. He’d seen her name in one of the interim emails from the reunion committee. So she must have gotten married after she left school. At the moment, she sat alone, though.

 Marisol hadn’t changed much at all: a little older through the eyes, a little tired-looking, her smile faint as if it would fade away if the light didn’t stay focused on it. But she still carried herself well, her figure slim, and her sharp white tank and skirt showed it off. Older, and better, apparently. He’d always liked her. They’d had some real good times. She was smart, kinda pretty, and always pleasant. 

She just wasn’t Tiffy.


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Author Bio


Alana Lorens has been a published writer for more than forty years, after working as a pizza maker, a floral designer, a journalist and a family law attorney. Currently a resident of Asheville, North Carolina, the aging hippie loves her time in the smoky blue mountains. She writes romance and suspense as Alana Lorens, and sci-fi, fantasy and paranormal mystery as Lyndi Alexander. One of her novellas, THAT GIRL’S THE ONE I LOVE, is set in the city of Asheville during the old Bele Chere festival. She lives with her daughter on the autism spectrum, who is the youngest of her seven children, and she is ruled by three crotchety old cats, and six kittens of various ages.

Author Links




Amazon Author Page

Book trailer:


Twitter:  @AlexanderLyndi



Monday, January 17, 2022

Cover Reveal

 Guess what? I can finally show you the cover for my upcoming book!

Isn't it pretty? I love it, and I love how The Wild Rose Press cover artist created something that goes well with A Reckless Heart, Book 1.

Here's the blurb: 

Abby Marlow, computer security expert, lands a job at the best IT security firm in the country. Her sole focus is financial independence so she never has to rely on others again, especially a man. But why does her boss make her wires short circuit?


Ted Endicott, CEO and founder of the IT security firm, is hard of hearing. Although an expert in his field, he’s still uncomfortable admitting his difficulty hearing to his clients or employees. So why is he willing to accept Abby’s help?


As Ted and Abby work together, barriers fall away, and soon the lines blur between colleagues and lovers. But a security glitch in a client's system indicates one of his employees is the hacker, and all signs point to Abby. Can they get past the suspicion and find a future together? 

And, if you want to preorder, here's a link that will take to you some of the retailers (more will be added between now and release day): 

Universal Link:

Monday, January 10, 2022

I’ve Got News!

I’m thrilled to announce I’m an agented author. After months of querying and talking and thinking and considering and negotiating, I signed the contract this weekend. Thank goodness we signed it before she reads that sentence. 

Anyway, I’m now represented by Cathie Hedrick Armstrong of The Purcell Agency. She’ll be working with me to place a manuscript I’ve written that’s a cross between The Gilmore Girls and Crossing Delancey. It’s not an overnight process by any means, but I’m looking forward to getting started with her and having someone on my team. She has a great sense of humor (and seems very nice), so we’ll get along just fine.


Finding an agent is different from finding a publisher. The agent has to believe they can sell your work, and the agent and author have be able to get along. In addition, there needs to be transparency. One of the things I loved when interviewing her—because while she has to decide whether or not she wants to work with me, I also have to decide if she’s the right agent for me—was she took the time to tell me what she does for her clients. She went over every step of the process, including how much of a collaboration it will be. Because while she is definitely the one with the sources and connections, I need to be comfortable with how she’s representing me and my work. In addition, she gave me the names of all her clients, not just the ones she’s had success with. I loved that. 


I hope to have more news to share in the future, but in the meantime, I can’t wait to get started.