Here at the Sizemore home, we’re getting ready to celebrate Christmas. To those of you who celebrate differing holidays, like, say, Festivus (a holiday for the rest of us), I wish you lovely celebrations, decadent food, and happiness in the upcoming year.

It’s been a hard year, 2017. I lost my grandmother, I got a 3 book contract. I’ve watched my kids succeed and struggle. I got an Alienware computer (OMGYAY) and a new Nintendo 3DSXL. Not that I’m all about the things… I’m just looking for the stuff I can appreciate. It’s my way of coping. Don’t even get me started on the state of government. I’m kind of happy to see the backside of 2017.

I was hoping to have a cover reveal this week, but, alas, I have no pretties to show you. Yet. I do have a blurb for My Fake Vegas Boyfriend, the first in the Viva Las Vegas trilogy. It will be released on February 6–if you haven’t seen that yet.

1958 Las Vegas. She can ruin his career. He can save her freedom. What’s a little blackmail between strangers?


Layla Rosas has been burned too many times—by her cheating ex, her narcissist mother, and now her father who’ll put her in an asylum, for good this time, if she can’t settle down and be a good girl. She needs a quality boyfriend—now—to convince her dad she’s back on the straight and narrow.


Jace Russell is good at his job: keeping the wealthy elite who visit his casino safe and happy. When a photographer snaps a career-ending shot of a client, it’s Jace’s duty to do whatever it takes to stop that photo from hitting the press.


Layla didn’t intend to take a compromising shot, but that doesn’t mean she won’t use it. When Jace realizes a few fake dates are all she wants in exchange for the negatives, he’s all in—with the added agenda of getting the crazy but beautiful woman between his sheets. But Layla refuses to gamble her heart on the toe-curling kisses of a fake boyfriend. It’s just a few dates. How hard can it be?

Doesn’t that sound like delicious fun? The answer is yes, lovelies. And it is.

For now, from me to you, happy holidays!

Remember the year I forgot to get my husband a chocolate bunny and he was devastated? Which was like three years ago, so go me for remembering. Sort of. As Meatloaf said, “Two outta three ain’t bad.”

So, anyway, I really stepped up my Easter game this year. Got to make a basket for my granddaughter (which I filled with books because Nana Lori is going to make a reader out of that girl). And my daughters got things they were dying for but had no idea they were getting. It was great. Part of the reason I indulged so much is because my husband helped me do the shopping this year (first time ever). He completely negates the better judgment side of me by saying, “Get it if you want.” I can’t argue with that.

Naturally, he was there so I couldn’t surprise-buy him a chocolate bunny.

And then… well, I forgot. I had Easter in the bag. A literal bag, hidden in my closet, all finished. I remember thinking about it once, but then I was in a hurry.

Come Easter, I had to tell him I’d forgotten. He wasn’t really as emotionally bereft as the first time so I kind of wonder if he didn’t buy himself one, to be honest. But, that’s not the point.

The worst part is, the man bought me a Twix Easter egg. He got me candy and I had forgotten his favorite thing. Well, his favorite thing about Easter. I’m pretty sure his favorite things are his Harley, the kids, and me–in that order.

So, basically, I just lost at marriage. Beat at my own game. It’s a good thing I have a Twix Easter egg to drown my shame in.

I forgot to buy one damn thing and I lost at marriage--Easter Edition! Click To Tweet

house1I’ve been doing some revising and apparently, my mom grew impatient with how long I was not doing whatever it was she wanted me to do.

Mom: Should it take that long to revise a chapter?

Me: Yes. How many chapters have you revised? (I got a little salty, which is one of those phrases I heard my teen say and I’m probably using incorrectly.)

Mom: None… But I’m pretty sure it doesn’t take that long.

Respect the process, lady!

Oh, and Happy Mother’s Day!


house1So, I’m one of those people who have conversations with other people as I’m waking up. Sometimes they can be quite ridiculous and result in said people (aka my family) laughing at my expense. You might as well join them.

A few days ago, my husband was trying to wake me up.

Me: Stop being mad at me!

Husband: Baby, I’m not mad. I’m just trying to get you up.

Me: You put it on Twitter!

At this point, my husband and oldest daughter start laughing hysterically. I get defensive.

Me: It’s in the timeline!

My husband doesn’t even use twitter and I can’t imagine what he could possibly post that I would care about. Something like, “My wife doesn’t empty the wastebasket often enough,” or “Her pens are everywhere.” Which are both true things.

house1Actual thing I just had to say:

Don’t do wild jazz hands while your sister is trying to do math. Math and jazz hands do NOT go together.

11265726_1639929216225704_1032860535_nToday, I’m sharing with you a conversation between my husband and me, as we stood arm-in-arm and watched my stepdaughter dance with her new husband after the wedding. She’s a nurse as well as just an independent, kind person.

Him: I can’t believe we didn’t screw her up.

Me: I know, right? We did good.

Here’s hoping we’ll manage with the other two!

201502120904061. It’s totes acceptable for a forty-year-old woman to say adorbs, fab, and obvs. (That’s obviously, for those not in the know.) It’s totes acceptable to say those things at home, where your kids just roll their eyes. Because if you say those things outside, people look at you like you just grew another head.

2. I’ve had the sex, period, pregnancy, and STD talks so many times and answered so many awkward questions, I can now discuss anything. ANYTHING. Seriously, I’m considering renting myself out to other moms.

3. Nothing on this Earth or in hell compares to taking a teenage girl shopping. I’d explain how awful it is, but… I’ll start crying.

4. I’m really good at ruining lives, having ruined all their lives on multiple occasions.

5. “You’re not leaving the house like that,’ is not something a tween/teen girl can apply to any future situations, no matter how smart she is. You will still always have to say it, thus ruining her life. Obvs.


Everything I learned raising three brilliant and hellacious daughters. Click To Tweet

sueandmikeJMy youngest kid has an active imagination. And she’s more often than not got a quippy comeback for everything. Every. Thing.

So, allow me to introduce her lizard/dolphin family (The dolphins are the adoptive parents of Susan and Brenda). What’s amusing to me is that this isn’t a one time thing. They have been Susan, Michael, and Brenda and they have been fruitful and multiplied (except Brenda). The Saga of Susan and Michael: One terrible closet mishap later, they were separated. Click To Tweet

Without further ado, overheard in my house…

Me: I found that lizard, the purple one, in the mess we call ‘your closet.’
P: Susan! That’s great, because these [lizards she bought today] are her babies. Now I just have to find Michael.
Me: I can’t believe you just threw Susan and Michael in the mess we call ‘your closet’ like that.
P: Well, they were planning to take a vacation.
Me: Apparently to Trashville, Indiana (I don’t know why Indiana, guys. Seriously, Indiana is lovely.)
P: Yeah. Hope we can find Michael. He’s got all these kids now, and he got lost on his way to the gift shop.

Later that day…

P: I found Michael. He brought back mugs and t-shirts that say ‘I heart Trashville, Indiana.”


As you can see from the pic, we found everyone, including Brenda, who ran off to Lost Vegas with the Incredible Lizarus. No lie, y’all.


house fix Mom, we’re doing this thing in school where we have to correct these essays with spelling and grammar errors. Ms. [Red-Hands*] handed me mine and I thought, ‘Oh, my gosh– I’ve got to fix this now!’. I blame you.”

Me: I love you. so. much.

*It’s an inside joke** AND a way for me to not invade Ms. Red-Hand’s privacy. I’d explain it, but, really, I’m lucky if I’m amusing the first time I make a joke. Any explanation, and we’re all just wasting our time.

**Ms. Red-Hands, if you’re reading this, I’m so, so sorry for the name thing. 


My daughter is joining the #grammar geek ranks. She's fabulous. Click To Tweet

house rightGuess who had to buy a hot water heater and spent 24 hours without hot water which, I know, is so first-world-whiny, but it was awful.

Anyway, this happened.

Me: That tank isn’t going to get by that pipe.
Husband: Yes, it will.

Three hours later…

Husband: I had to take out that pipe.

The very. next. day…

Husband: I think the dresser will fit there without any problem.
Me: There’s no way. The bathroom door wouldn’t open.
Husband: It would mostly open. (Whatever that means.)
Me: I don’t think so. Remember the pipe? I don’t think you’re very good at this.

A tape measure later…

Husband: There’s no way that’s going to fit there.

Basically, I'm always right. And no hot water is bad. So bad. #blog Click To Tweet