Wayne claims that since I let the word out about how he ate my Cadbury dark chocolate bar, he’s the most hated man in America.  That’s only a slight exaggeration.  I’m shocked that after all these years of marriage he apparently doesn’t know the problems associated with getting between a woman and her chocolate; especially dark chocolate.  He might as well tangle with a mama bear protecting her sweet, little cubs.  Go gently on him, my faithful readers.  I believe Wayne has learned his lesson and learned it well.

I have a crime to report.  My dear friend Lois Faye Dyer (check out the February 2006 anthology, Hearts Divided we both had novellas in it, mine a Cedar Cove story) stopped by to visit recently.  Along with a get well card, she brought me a number of goodies to aid the healing process.  Included in this package of treats was a chocolate bar.  Not just any off-the-counter chocolate; this was a Cadbury bar—dark chocolate.  In my humble opinion, dark chocolate is the very best. 

While I was at work, my first day back, my husband, Wayne ate the entire chocolate bar.  He didn’t even bother to hide the evidence.  All that was left was the wrapper, which was on the sofa.  He claimed I left it out in plain view and I hadn’t eaten it.  Of course I hadn’t eaten it; I was saving it for a special occasion.  I’m working on forgiveness.

I forgot to mention the Cedar Cove Tea that was held this past weekend at the Victorian Rose Tea Room in Port Orchard and what fun we had.  As I traveled from table to table to greet everyone. I was astonished to meet women from Hawaii, Pennsylvania, Indiana, California and Oregon.  What a thrill that was!

Many of you are already asking where I’ll be traveling on tour in 2008.  The list probably won’t be available until March 2008, but I promise to post it on the website as soon as I have concrete information.  If I had my wish I’d have the opportunity to meet each one of you.  I can see it all now --we' sit and chat over a cup tea and our knitting needles would be going at record speed.  (And probably our tongues too!)

This has been a wonderful week, as my editor, Paula Eykelhof, has been visiting.  We've been celebrating (think champagne and seafood) but also working.  Today we’re having lunch with my friend Ann DeFee, who has a book out this month in the Harlequin Everlasting Love imprint titled SUMMER AFTER SUMMER.  Anyone looking for a great story will love Ann's writing.

I'm continuing with my visits to the Little Shop of Horrors, also known as physical therapy.  I know perseverance will pay off in the long run, but right now it’s a daily struggle.

I feel like the fatted calf. Dinner, compliments of my publisher to celebrate the #1 placement of 74 SEASIDE AVENUE—was divine. Chef Grant Matsuno and Amy Igloi (of Amy's on the Bay) came to our house and, even though Gant was in an unfamiliar kitchen, he managed to cook up a delectable meal that was the highlight of the most incredible week of my career.

We started with an antipasto plate and then Caesar and seafood salads. The entrée was filet mignon with BAKED POTATOES and broccolini. And there were three kinds of desserts, none of which began with the letter P.

The next day I had to wake up early and go to physical therapy, better known as "the little shop of horrors."  My arm is getting stronger and better every day.  I still can't raise it high enough to do my hair or put on my make-up, but I’m almost to my nose.  And, I can use the keyboard!

Move over J.K. Rowling—Debbie's readers have spoken.  If you happen to read the USA Today this morning, take note 74 SEASIDE AVENUE has replaced Harry Potter in the No. 1 position.

As you can imagine, Wayne and I are doing the happy dance.  My publisher is so thrilled they are sending a chef to cook dinner for us because I can't go out with my bum shoulder.  The kids will be joining us and champagne shall flow.  All I can say is thank you to my wonderful, loyal readers.  Update tomorrow on dessert and other goodies.

Wayne has turned out to be a wonderful nurse. He's been tender and patient and hasn't complained once about cooking or doing dishes. The only time he showed the least bit of hesitation was when it came to dressing me in my bra the first time. The doctor suggested I wear a bra that connects in the front. Wayne stared at it in absolute horror. What followed was a comedy of errors. By the time the bra was on and completely hooked up he had broken into a heavy sweat and said, "It was a whole lot easier to get the thing off than on!" I know that this is the one area he's looking forward to me doing myself soon.