Today is pet peeve day. Which means that Jennifer’s going to rant for the duration of this post. So, here goes. Why do people always blame the weatherman when it’s raining and nasty and cold outside? I’ve been pondering this question since watching my local news, where the anchor asked the weather guy if he felt any pressure to deliver →

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Sometime today, no matter what you’re doing, take a moment to pause and reflect and remember those who were taken from us five years ago — and those who have given their lives since. Let’s all honor their sacrifice and remember their bravery.

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I spent most of yesterday watching the U.S. Open tennis tournament. Between naps, of course. And I realized something.

A lot of hot guys play tennis.

And they can provide a world of inspiration to romance-writer types like me. All your classic male archetypes are on display on the hard courts of Flushing Meadows.

Take for instance Rafael Nadal — he’s your dark, sultry Latin type. Then, there’s Roger Federer — the coolest guy around

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So, it’s about 11 a.m. Sunday. I’m getting ready to watch the U.S. Open, where Andre Agassi is scheduled to play. Agassi has decided to retire after this tournament, so this is his professional swan song. Agassi is old and creaky (in tennis/pro sports terms). He’s not favored to make it to the final.

But gosh darn it if I don’t want him to.

What is it about the underdog that fascinates us?

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Is there anything sexier than Dominic Purcell with his unbuttoned shirt on Prison Break? I don’t think so. Get that man on a romance cover stat!

BTW, Prison Break writers, if by some wild chance you are reading this, I have a great idea about a new love interest you could bring on for Lincoln — a sassy Southern gal with an axe to grind against the evil Prez. She’s rich and hot and springs

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