I've just returned from the Romance Writers of America conference in Atlanta. In spite of warnings that Atlanta streets were dangerous, I found I needed no more precautions than I would in any other large city. Atlantans were friendly, welcoming, and helpful. Since Maine has had its share of hot weather this summer, the climate was no great shock either. I toured the World of Coca Cola and checked out Atlanta Underground.
A big highlight of my stay was a day-long seminar on firearms. Yup, that's right, folks, guns. The Mystery and Suspense Chapter, better known as Kiss of Death, sponsored the day for us writer members to learn about the history of firearms, gun safety, and so on. We also had a few hours at a shooting range. Here's Deadeye Vaughan with the Ruger .22. The Glock 17 gave a bear of a jolt when I pulled the trigger. I didn't even come close to the target on that one. And the instructor—no, not a hunk, sorry—had to help me with the Ruger .38 revolver. And darn it, I missed out on the shotgun and the assault rifle due to lack of time. But I think I did pretty well for not having even held a gun before this. Hey, and I didn't shoot myself in the foot. Or anyone else. And what a relief to learn I made no glaring errors about guns in my new release, Deadly Memories, out now from Silhouette Intimate Moments.
Hmm, now to find a shooting range here where I can practice…
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