EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY by Jenn McKinlay

Life. Art. For me, the line in between frequently gets blurry. Very blurry. 

A Top Pick from RT Magazine and with a Starred Review from Booklist! Don't miss out on the latest romantic comedy in the Bluff Point trilogy! Available TODAY!

When I wrote the book, EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY, I thought it would be fun to include a foster kitten named Chaos. He was a spunky little critter that enriched the story and the lives of my characters. Fast forward a couple of months and my family and I found ourselves rescuing a two week old kitten, who is now named King George, and is a solid (and spunky) member of our pack. Did writing about Chaos bring George into our life? Hmm.

Chaos

King George

Another plot point in today's release is that my characters are stuck in a blizzard in Maine for three days. Next door neighbors with kids and pets, surviving a brutally cold winter -- great set up for a romance, right? Yeah, sure, and now I'm visiting New England and it looks like they're about to break the record for coldest number of days in a row since 1917 - one hundred years, people! I'm not saying my book brought on the cold snap, but I'm not not saying it either.

A stream in the woods on New Year's Eve

So, if there is a life-art connection happening, I'm thinking in my next book my characters need to find a cupboard full of fresh baked pies or a trunk full of gold, you know, just to see if art really is imitating life. 

What about you, Reds? Have you ever written something and then had it happen to you? Coincidence or...?

For anyone who wants a looksee, here's an excerpt from 
EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY:

     The blizzard caused power outage continued through three board games, lunch, an arts and crafts project that was supposed to be making snowflakes out of printer paper but turned into an epic fail when Zachary Caine unfolded his and it looked like six knobby penises.

     “Oh, wow, I didn’t see that happening,” he said.

     Jessie Connolly about choked on her own spit from trying not to laugh as Zach tried to hide his pervy snowflake from her girls. He should have known better by now. When he hid it behind his back, they attacked. Five-year-old Maddie wrestled it from his hands while seven-year-old Gracie distracted him by saying she heard someone on the front porch.

     When Maddie unfolded it, she frowned.

     “Why don’t you like it, Zach? It looks like p—“

     “No—“ Zach tried to cut her off to no success.

     “—arrots.”

     “Huh?” He raised one eyebrow at her.

     Gracie glanced over her sister’s shoulder and nodded. “Yeah, parrots. See? Here’s the head—“

     “Got it!” Zach cried.

     Jessie turned away. The urge to laugh was becoming too much and she had to fake a coughing fit to try and contain it. Parrots! Bless her innocent little girls’ hearts.

     “Are you all right, Momma?” Gracie asked.

     “Fine, I’m fine,” Jessie answered. Her voice was strained and she was still facing away from them, because she knew if she looked at Zach or his snowflake, she was going to lose it completely.

     She felt him at her back before he spoke. One arm appeared in front of her, and he leaned close, speaking right into her ear, and said, “So, did you want to hang my bird-like snowflake on the window with the others? The girls seem to think it’s full of peckers.”

     The laugh when it came out of Jessie was something between and guffaw and a wheeze. As she looked at Zach’s phallic snowflake, she doubled-up with laughter. The more she tried to contain it, the worse the giggle fit became.

     “Momma, you shouldn’t laugh at Zach’s snowflake,” Gracie said. “You’ll hurt his feelings.”

     Jessie pressed her lips together and nodded, trying her best.    

     “She’s right,” Zach said. “My feelings will go positively limp.”

     A snort erupted and tears sprang from her eyes. Jessie gave Zach a warning look that was likely ruined by the smile that still curved her lips.

     “Here,” he said. He reached around her, brushing her side with his arm and ripped a piece of tape off of the dispenser. “Let’s hang it right here, shall we?”

     Jessie watched as he taped his snowflake along with the others they had made right in the center of the kitchen window.

     “Oh, that looks good there,” Maddie said. “Don’t you think so, Momma?”

     “It would be hard to find a better place for it,” Jessie said.

     This time it was Zach who hooted with laughter. He didn’t even try to contain it.

     As he walked past her on his way back to his seat, he leaned in close and said, “I feel compelled to say that the parrots on the snowflake are not the actual size.”

     His teasing gaze held hers and Jessie felt her face get hot.

     “Of course not,” Gracie said. “Everyone knows a real parrot is bigger than that.”

     Zach reclaimed his seat at the table and grinned. “Man, I love these kids.”

     Both of her daughters beamed up at him as he began to fold his next piece of paper, and Jessie felt something in her chest shift.