My promotional book tour continues. Technically I’m not certain that randomly giving out copies of India’s Summer on the beach while on vacation constitutes a book tour. My publicist is encouraging me to blog and tweet; but in a summer where you’re competing with Fifty Shades of Grey I think my approach is probably as effective.

On the flight to Cancun Mexico, Fergie, minus her Black-eyed Peas, was seated behind us. She tweeted a picture of herself on the beach next day. Here is the picture and next to it, a picture of the Korean couple we got to know a week later in Florida. If these people were ever to meet it would give whole new meaning to the words ‘culture shock.’

Our ‘All Inclusive’ hotel in Mexico was one giant adult playground. I’ve never seen so many people in fluorescent swimsuits drinking so many fluorescent cocktails in my life. To get to the bar, you simply waded across one of the many fluorescent pools. I immediately got into the swing of things; one-handed water salsa dancing, one-handed extreme Bingo, one-handed Ping Pong, other hand clamped to a plastic glass of Sancerre.

And then there were the water sports. My husband said it wasn’t a highlight of his vacation seeing me revving into the ocean minus a life jacket with a young Mexican man, hanging onto my waist. It turned out Miguel was a little unhinged too, a fact I discovered when we were a few miles out and he tied up the jet-ski and invited me to climb into the water and do the Rumba with him. I did; it was a lot of fun. I would share the photo Miguel and me safely back on shore, but I fear Fergie’s photo would upstage me, so you’ll have to imagine that one.

Talking of culture shock, after five days (and nights) of this Paradise, we had to tear ourselves away to The Four Seasons in Palm Beach where we had to make our own entertainment. I assure you we did… But I’m going to tell you about that some other time.

Sometimes when I look at my children I say to myself, “Lillian, you should have stayed a virgin”
– Lillian Carter, mother of the 39th President of the United States.

As we approach Mother’s Day in the US, I am given cause to reflect. You see, nobody told me (or if they did I wasn’t listening) how time- consuming, demanding, exhausting, intense, expensive, life-changing, challenging, and absorbing it would be to become a mother. “Come on in. The water’s lovely!” the mothers would say, baby slung nonchalantly across ample bosom, two-year-old gripped firmly by hand.

But I have never been able to be nonchalant at anything, (except my ability to dance all night in a six-inch pump). Anyway, within days of giving birth (by emergency C-section) to offspring number one, I heard a nurse saying to “come down the corridor to be sterilized.”  I was out of the bed like a shot before it dawned on me she’d actually said to go with her to have the baby’s bottles sterilized.

When I finally had an empty nest, I couldn’t get to the computer fast enough to write a novel. Other women had written novels. “Come on in, the water’s lovely.” Well, nobody told me (or if they did I wasn’t listening) how time-consuming, demanding, exhausting, intense, life-changing…you get the picture.

I had no idea what I was setting in motion; that my book would need intensive care for many months after giving it birth, that I would get swept up in a world of blogs and tweets, instagrams and web cams, and need to produce another book soon if I were to keep any credibility as an author. Sleepless nights would be just the least of it.

Fortunately India Butler (she of India’s Summer, a great beach read that I urge you to download to your Kindle immediately) refuses to go quietly, and is demanding a sequel much as my three-year-old son demanded a sibling. On many occasions, he would ask loudly in public, “When is daddy going to give you that thing you need to make another baby?” Finally, I relented and delivered him a little sister. Well, a surgeon delivered her but that’s another long story.

I wish all women a very Happy Mother’s Day, whether you have given birth to children or to projects. We are all nurturers in our own ways. So give yourself a lovely treat by downloading India’s Summer…a perfect way to celebrate! You know you deserve it.

I’m back in LA after my sojourn in Paris, where, for reasons that made sense at the time, I decided the worst possible thing that could happen would be to be taken for a tourist in St Germain des Pres.

I became insanely French very quickly; within hours of landing I owned a navy blue cashmere jacket and several scarves, was walking into galleries with an air of distraction and then focus, totally confident in my Gallic persona unless anyone spoke to me.

During the week, despite a hankering for une andouilette avec une oeuf dur for breakfast, I settled on les croissants and in between times, a great deal of ‘saumon’ and  Sancerre; the two things I could order at speed with the right accent, having lost  confidence attempting lunch in a tiny café one day when the maitre d’ greeted me at break neck speed with- ‘Je suis désolé, Madame, mais nous avons arrêté servant le déjeuner. Nous avons de précuit des soupes dans le réfrigérateur si vous soigneriez pour l’un choisir. ’

I responded with a degree of pouting that probably looks horribly wrong on a woman my age and went over to the fridge scanning everything in there for words I could pronounce.

“Carot s’il vous plait.”  I said, handing him the jar, then taking off my coat and looking for somewhere to sit before noticing he was putting it into a paper bag, not warming it up. I handed over my Euros, hesitated for a moment wondering whether to risk asking for a drink, decided against it and ended up in a nearby back alley slugging ice- cold soup from the bottle.

Immersion is a great thing; a few days later my high school grasp of the language was coming to my rescue and when approached by a tres chic woman asking for directions I was able to tell her where to find the Rue San Sulpice, confident I’d not sent her via The Loire Valley.

I also had a sexual encounter at Studio 34, a hairdressing salon, not a nightclub, but nevertheless an experience that would have given Studio 54 a run for its money and without the inconvenience of rehab. The massage chair left me barely able to walk after my color was rinsed off. I highly recommend it; your hair may come out orange, depending on your own grasp of the language, but it will have been well worth it. Trust me.

How’s your week going? Mine’s been pretty busy. I’ve played Nashville, (a piano duet at The Loews Hotel does count). I’ve been ordained a Minister in The Universal Life Church Monastery; $12.95 online and yes, that counts too. Oh! And I also had my house taken over by a SWAT team. I’m talking about ‘The Special Weapons and Tactics Team,’ complete with sub machine guns and sniper rifles. It’s a long story, but seeing your house on NBC after you’ve been evacuated to a safe house nearby and a parolee  is walking around your roof for five hours, well frankly, it makes you wonder if maybe early retirement to a sleepy town in the English countryside isn’t such a bad idea after all. Anyway, I saw my yard on Prime Time TV but I do so wish I hadn’t gone to sleep thinking about a way to raise my media profile. What is it they say? Careful what you ask for?

Let’s not even go there, when after five hours I still hadn’t brushed my teeth and was in my night- shirt, barefoot and eating toast in Jackie Collin’s daughter’s house. Thank you Tiffany…It got a bit surreal and very LA when your mum was on the phone. We can be as casual as you like, but she’s still an icon after all. I did think of titling this post “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”

Oh! I almost forgot to tell you that next day at LAX, coming through security we were part of an emergency drill…except they omitted to tell us it was a drill! Only in LA do you confide in a stranger about a recent stake out in your house to be advised that, ‘You might need to clean your aura.’ Anyway, a few days later I lost forty dollars in a slot machine in Vegas, which cleaned out my wallet. Also, American Airlines’ Chardonnay does wonders for one’s aura.

My first visit to Tennessee didn’t disappoint. Certainly there were some cultural adjustments to be made. In order to blend I bought a pair of Lucchese cowboy boots on the way to one of many Honky Tonk bars and en route to my third bottle of Sam Adams. When a tourist asked directions to the Grand Ole Opry. Flattered to be recognized as a local, I sent them down 2nd and Broadway with a cheery “ Y’all have a nice day.”

The food choices at The Loews Hotel Nashville are different from The Loews in LA. I always thought Hush Puppies were shoes. Turns out they’re deep fried cornbread balls. They also offer Poached Pig’s Head, Deep Fried Veal Steak, Pickled Deep Fried Chicken a Deep Fried Double-stack burger or Pork Belly Mac’ n Cheese. I settled for a BLT that was so calorie laden it’d be illegal in California.

Waking up in Vegas yesterday, looking out on a half scale replica of the Eiffel Tower, I did take a moment to worry about my aura and whether my grip on reality is a result of a fondness for Sancerre or a way of the universe telling me to stop asking for more material for the next novel.

In the few days since the publication of “India’s Summer” my writing has received the kind of recognition authors barely allow themselves to dream about. The Golden Globes coverage eclipsed much of the news in LA and as my PR, Lucy Hamilton explained, Johnny Depp’s breakup with Vanessa Paradis kept me off the cover of People magazine again this week. She has apologized for the lack of media coverage. Those of you who attended the event will bear testimony to the glamour of the occasion and I will share the photographs soon.

The statue is strikingly beautiful and to be the first non –native of New York in history to receive this trophy is an exceptional honor.  It is difficult to express my gratitude to Matt Goldman, co- founder of the Blue Man Group for flying out to make the presentation.

Unaware that I had even been nominated, I was rendered speechless for quite a few moments. Unaccustomed to receiving awards, and the other side of several glasses of wine, I think I came across like Sally Field receiving her Academy Award for Norma Rae “I can’t deny the fact you like me …right NOW you really really LIKE me!”

And so… as I tackle Amazon… as I head out into the world my torch held high… ready for the Free Promotion this weekend…these words will be on my lips and in my heart; “La Liberté éclairant le Monde.”