Dreams and stuff

I always wanted to be a writer. When I was younger I would tell people I wanted to be a teacher… But in my heart, I wanted to be a published author. I was going to write books that changed lives. People were going to call me the next Harper Lee or F. Scott Fitzgerald. It was a dream. We all have dreams, right?

I love words. I love they way they look and the way they sound. The way they make you feel… I just never really imagined that I would be able to string them together and get a book published. Well, my second book with Borough’s Publishing Group is due out in a couple of weeks. Is it the next great American novel? Will it alter the way people live their lives? Probably not. But it’s altered mine. It’s shown me that it’s never too late to go for what you want. It’s shown me that dreams do come true. 


You have to work for them though. If you want to write a book, you’ve got to actually sit down and write. It doesn’t matter what you’re writing about. Journal about your day. Blog about a road trip. Scribble down your thoughts about a song or a movie. Just write. And eventually, inspiration will hit, and the book will come. Join writing groups; Google it, they are everywhere. Reach out to other writers, ask for feedback. Put your work out there. It’s the only way. 

Now I have another writing related dream. At the last ARWA meeting I attended they said you should write down your goals, that’s a big step in fulfilling them. You guys are going to think I’m kidding, but believe me, I am not. I want to be a famous enough writer to be a guest on the Talking Dead. I’m dead serious. Hahahaha get it? Everyone who gets to go on the Walking Dead after show is such a bad ass. So if any of y’all know Chris Hardwick, shoot him a text for me 😉 

Now for everyone’s favorite part of my blog posts… I give you Hot Guys Reading! No joke, that’s what I typed into the PINterest search bar. 

Everyone have a great day! It’s raining like crazy here in the ATX, you guys stay safe. 

Love, LP

Ps- Play Dirty is available for preorder!! Here’s a link to the Amazon site. 



Roots. Sorta.

I can’t actually say that I’m from a small town. I wasn’t born in one, I didn’t go to school with the same kids from kindergarten to high school. But I did grow up in one, I spent over 6 years of my adolescence in a small town. It shaped who I was and what I thought I wanted out of life. It made me who I am. The town and the people in it. 

This past weekend I was supposed to have a book signing in Houston, it got rescheduled due to the weather. We were already in Houston when we found this out. So T, Stoli, and I decided to go ahead and stay the night and hang with some of our favorite people. The kids played, the adults laughed and drank wine. Then the next day, I went “home”. 

You see between Houston and Austin, if you take HWY 290, you’ll drive through this town I grew up in. It has a massive football stadium, you can’t miss it 😉. My favorite teacher lives in the area and we made plans to meet up. I was so beyond excited to see her. She was always telling me to write, always giving me journals and encouraging me. She’s amazing, the best. And I got to introduce my little girl to her. It was a moment I will cherish, always. Plus, she loved my kid as much as she loved me, so I know I’ll get to see her more often now.

I hope everyone has a person in their lives like that. A person who’s words and heart stay with you, no matter how long you’ve been apart. It’s an amazing thing, friendship like that. Now, in order to see said favorite person, I had to go “home”. It’s been over ten years since I went back to that town. And it was the most surreal thing I’ve ever done.   

So many things had changed, and just as many had stayed the same. My brain was flooded with memories, good and bad. I’m not some sad cautionary tale, high school wasn’t tragic. The girls could be catty and mean. But isn’t that typical in every town, small or not? They taught me to let it go, that not everyone had to like me. They taught me that mean people? Are mean because they have issues. And that none of it really matters anymore the second you walk across that stage. 
My first love was in that town, my first boyfriend, my first date, my first everything. And thanks to him I don’t have some horrible “first time” story about fumbling hands in the back of a truck, although that came later and just for fun. (I used to skip my last class of the day when he had home games…you know, for love of the game) We had so much fun together, so many laughs and experiences. He taught me a lot about what I wanted in a partner and what I didn’t. And I’m sure I did the same for him. Of course we thought we would be together forever, that we’d finish school, get married and have kids. And of course, we didn’t make it past a few semesters of college. We don’t talk anymore, but I do think of him from time to time. And I always smile. 

I’m a writer. Memories, nostalgia, images from high school…all those things are in valuable to me. Sure driving through town was like an episode of the twilight zone. Sure some of those memories are hard to re live. But it all happened and it all shaped me. And it all goes into my writing, into my books and characters. Those mean girls? Happy Place (which will get re released with my publisher soon). That high school sweetheart? My love of baseball players for St. Leasing. And that amazing teacher? She’s is every confident word I write. 

Now for the hot guys section of this blog…

None of these guys are my high school sweetheart. But they all remind me a little of our life together. He grew up working on his family ranch. I watched him haul hay on more than one occasion. 

Obviously, he drove a truck. He taught me to drive a stick shift. 

We have several dates that were working cattle with his dad and uncles. I learned to give shots that way. 

And I’ve ridden on more tractors than you can image. Have any of y’all ever been in a combine? Just wait for that story in my next series 😉

Love, LP

The most wonderful time of the year

I love the month of October.

 It’s literally my favorite month out of the whole year. And not for the reasons you’re all thinking…I hate pumpkin spice.

It’s my favorite month because of FEAR FEST!!!! Fear fest on AMC makes me so damn happy. Like giddy. My child was conceived during Fear Fest 😉 I love scary movies, and the older the better. Like 60’s and 70’s? Prime time for some good cinema. Anything that takes place at a sleep away camp? Perfection. Movies that have 27 sequels? Even better. 


I used to just turn the TV on AMC and leave it there. I can’t now because my three year old would never stop having nightmares. So I record all the best  movies and make my husband stay up and watch them with me. He doesn’t love this activity, but he tolerates it. Now, here’s the catch; I get really creeped out. I have to sleep with the hall light on and I make him check under the bed. 

Bad acting and questionable special effects are my jam. But my imagination still goes a little crazy…I’ve made him come with me to pee a few times. I think the best part about the older horror flicks is that they aren’t gory. Like now a days, they just try to see how much blood and guts and gore they can fit into a movie. IE; Saw, House of a 1,000 Corpses IE; anything directed by Rob Zombie. But back then? It was the suspense, the chase, the story. 

Second best things about October? Decorations. Now, my love for skulls is apparent all year long…

But during the months of October and early November? It gets out of control. Plus, I have an orange couch so Halloween looks good in my living room. Third? I like wearing sweaters and leggings. I look much thinner when a thick knit is covering my ass. 

Much like this gentleman’s sweater 😉 Now, everyone go forth and turn on Fear Fest. Watch all the classics. Embrace the campiness (I’m thinking about trademarking that word) and turn your nose’s up at the obvious gore…and pumpkin spice 😉

Love, LP

Modern day fairytale

So on my Twitter profile I put that “I write fairytales, only the stories are dirtier and the boys are hotter.” Clever, right? But if you reallllly think about it, that’s what I do. That’s what all romance writers do. We write unconventional love stories, the modern day fairytale. Sure our stories might not be suitable for kids, or for the likes of Disney (although we’ve all seen the Little Mermaid VHS cover and I had a very questionable picture in a coloring book last week) 

I posted this on social media yesterday and I whole heartedly believe what I said. That this phrase is the driving force behind most love stories. It’s a big theme for me at least. The guys in my book are wild and free and happy with the way things are. And then this girl comes along that changes everything. My sister and I had this conversation one day, about how every girl wants to be the one the bad boy (the wild boy, the partyer) changes for. The girl that taims the unattainable. But here’s the deal girls, and listen close…The girl that does all those things, that girl, never knows she’s that girl. Because from the second boy meets said girl, he is no longer wild or unattainable. He’s a love sick puppy. 

My husband swore up and down that he would never get married, never have a family. My husband was a force to be reckoned with. He partied, hard. I’ve heard the most insane stories about him. And when I say insane, think fire and tazers and vodka. But you know what? I barely even got a glimpse of that guy. The guy I met? Danced with me on my balcony, let me control the remote, and jumped at the chance to spend the day with my grandparents. I never set out to tame this guy, and that’s why I never needed to. 

This is what I tell my husband, I have this quote in our bedroom. Because it’s the truth. Marriage isn’t easy, being in a committed long term relationship is never easy. There are bills and kids and deadlines and dishes. It’s like he’s not capable of loading the dishwasher. Sometimes I have this fantasy where I take all our dishes out side and break them. I love my husband, but holy balls we piss each other off sometimes. There are days when I just honestly don’t like him. But at the end of that day, I choose him. I make the choice to try again tomorrow. I fall for him again. So, yeah, I never knew the bad boy. I only ever knew the good man (aside from the dishes handicap). 

But we love reading about a bad boy turning into a good man. And I love writing it. I love the moment when he realizes that with her, everything is different. Boy meets girl, girl is wary, boy sweeps her off her feet, girl thinks the jury is still out, boy tries harder, girl gives in, lots of sex (insert biker, military star, rocker, special ops, fire fighter, doctor, vampire, shifter, highlander, CEO ect…) then happily ever after…sorta. The modern day fairytale. 

I would never leave y’all high and dry 😉 he’s your dose of hot dude. Isn’t he perfect?! 

Love, LP


First and foremost, let’s start this beautiful Sunday off right. Shall we?

Hot guy drinking coffee. You’re welcome.

Now, to the real reason I’m writing this blog today. It’s because my husband has my three year old and her friend downstairs and I want to hide in my room, so I told him I was working. Hahaha j/k. Kind of. 

You’ve heard it a thousand times, being a mom is a full time job. It’s 24/7 and 365. There isn’t a second of a minute that our child is not bouncing around in your brain/heart. Sure we have “days off” and we get weekends were kids are with relatives or friends. But we’re still thinking about them and worrying about them. And the instant they pull out of the driveway, your heartbreaks just a little. My daughter is the luckiest kid in this world. She has like 9 grandparents/great grandparents (divorces and all that jazz). My husband and I get lots of time to ourselves. But it never fails, when we’ve strapped her into her car seat and given her hugs and kisses, the second I close the car door I get this tightening in my chest. I want to change my mind. I want to flip my mom the bird and take my baby back into the house with me. Being a parent is hard work. Emotionally and mentally. And since my yoga challenge went to shit and I’m out of shape…it’s sometimes physically challenging too. Plus, I’m flying by the seat of my pants here. Do any of y’all feel that way? Like I look at my kid, and she’s got her hand on her hip and she’s just told me to walk away from her and I’m just…I feel…I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t when to laugh and when to punish her or correct her. I don’t want to break her willful stubborn spirit, but I don’t want to raise an asshole either. Am I doing this right? Am I a good mom? Should I read more parenting books? Did she just roll her eyes at me? Is she’s going to runaway at 16 and become an “escort”?

Here’s the answer; phone a friend. When you feel like your head is going to explode and you get that urge to punch a wall…send a text. Wanna cry in a corner? Fire off an email. I am so blessed to have an amazing group of woman/moms surrounding me. We help each other, we laugh together. And most of all, we reassure each other that no one knows what the hell they’re doing. We’re all fumbling around in the dark trying to find a light switch. Or a flashlight. Or even a freaking match. Every one of us asks the same questions, has the same fears. We all struggle and we all falter. But we pick each other back up, giggling as we brush the dirt off our asses and we try again. I love the people in my life who are just like me, learning as we go. Figuring it out, one dramatic tantrum at a time. I don’t feel alone. When you have people sitting next to you at dinner, laughing (quietly and with their head turn to the side) at your kids hilariously inappropriate behavior (Stoli is really into fake burping right now, not to mention she tells the whole restaurant when she has successfully pee’d in the toilet) instead of sending you that judgy mom look? Life just got a whole lot less stressful. 

There are a thousand blogs out there about this topic. But here’s one more; don’t judge each other. If you have those moms in your life, the ones that make you feel like crap every time your five year old gives you snarky additude? Get rid of them. Ain’t nobody got time, not to mention tolerance, for that. Find good moms, funny moms, strong moms. Find moms who know what it’s like to have a willful child. Find moms who love to laugh and love to drink wine. Surround yourself with people who are going to walk right next to you on this crazy journey. I’ve told my friends this a thousand times; I might not understand exactly what you’re going through, but I’ll hold your hand the whole time you’re going through it. And I’m lucky enough to have found an amazing group of chicks who feel the same way. We laugh and we learn and we rally and we support. And I have absolutely no clue what I would do without them. So, thank you. You guys know who you are 😉

Love, LP

PS- I use the word mom, because that’s what I am. But take the word mom and replace it with dad or grandparent or aunt or uncle or foster parent…anyone who is raising a child. 

PPS- could you tell I went on an Almost Famous bender this weekend?

Wanna yoga?

Okay, so remember when I told you guys I wanted to talk to you about a yoga challenge? This is me, talking about it. I have picked up and put down yoga a dozen times over the years. To be honest I have no idea why I ever put it down because I know why I always pick it back up; I love it. I love everything about it. The stretching, the core building, the calmness. I am a huge believer in karma. 

A few years ago I got day drunk at Waterloo in south Austin and went and got a Sanskrit  tattoo.

It’s supposed to say control your karma. In reality it probably says this chick is gullible. That’s what happens when you drink too many pink vodka drinks in a town with tattoo parlors on every corner. Plus, I think I’d just read Eat Pray Love…Out of all my tats, this one hurt the most. While I was there I talked my friend into getting her nose pierced. She took it out a week later. Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, yoga. I think yoga is amazing because it’s good for your body as well as your soul. I could use some mental health these days, and I could stand  to…uh…tighten my core. (Loose 10 pounds) Yoga calms me as well. (Which isn’t hard, I’m a pretty laid back gal) The deep even breathing, dedicating your practice to someone who needs some inner peace, the ebb and flow of the movements. 

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to do my own mini yoga challenge. And by challenge I mean try really hard to do some form of yoga once a day for the next 30 days. I did a work out pact with my friend Malia once and I think I lasted like 3 days. Sad, right? I should have kept at it because the next time I saw Malia I could have bounced a quarter off her ass. People always say to have a friend to hold you accountable. I say that’s bull. I know my friends will forgive me if I quit. Plus, my friends are flaky, just like me. Isn’t that right Kelly? Little miss, let’s read the same book and then talk about it. I won’t make that mistake a 4th time. But you guys? My lovely readers/online friends who I’ve never met in person…I won’t quit on you. Follow me on Twitter @LPMaxa and I’ll post yoga pics. I’d do it on Facebook, but I feel like people will get sick of seeing me. If you would like to accompany me on this spiritual (ass tightening, wait is ass tightening he right words? butt firming? Probably better) journey, post your pics too. Just tag me in them. Or whatever the Twitter version of “tagging” is. 

And because I write romance novels and you guys read them…

A little Adam Levine doing yoga. There are a bunch of dirty down dog puns I could make here, but…I won’t. 

PS- we start tomorrow

PPS- just sitting in a yoga pose and snapping a pic doesn’t count

Love, LP