Once upon a time, I was a PR princess living in a tower high atop Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia. I had friends, money and lots of shoes. I was content. But not fulfilled.

I had a dream. Of being a writer. A novelist. A storyteller. Maybe one day, I thought. But not today.

Then, one beautiful September morning, evil men from faraway lands attacked two other towers.

And I remembered what I had forgotten. A lesson from my childhood. Carpe diem. Seize the day. Live for today. There might not be a tomorrow.

I started to write. Slowly, at first. Then, I couldn't stop. It flowed, the fiction. The story. A tale of five women, not so different from myself, dealing with love, life and one another.

I was in creative heaven. But I was in financial hell. Why? I had stopped doing PR work. I had fired myself, shutting down my PR consultancy to write full time. All too soon, I ran out of money. What to do?

To my rescue swept not a prince or a king, but a queen. My mother, Queen Marlene, did not want me to give up my dream of becoming a writer. Queen Marlene decreed that I could live in her condo castle in Cherry Hill, NJ.

In September, 2002, I left my Philadelphia tower and moved into the Queen's basement. Which was something of an upscale dungeon. From there, I wrote. And wrote.

And the Queen pretended that it was perfectly normal for her thirty-something daughter to be living almost penniless in her basement and talking to characters in her head.

Lexi James and the Council of Girlfriends was the result. I finished her in March, 2003. The Queen and I celebrated. We went to Friendly's for ice cream. What will happen now?, we wondered.
Maybe nothing, I said. But at the absolute least, I finished writing a book.

Something did happen. I found my fairy godmother. Betsy Amster, literary agent extraordinairre, took me under her halo, signing me as a client in July, 2003. On December 11, 2003, Miss Betsy made me a deal with Avon, a division of HarperCollins. Two books, with an option on a third.

The entire royal family rejoiced.

Then, I started to write my second novel. It was January, 2004. The second novel was due in January, 2005. Although I still lived in the basement, I wrote in Collingswood, NJ, a lovely little shire ten minutes from Cherry Hill.

While I wrote, sequestered and under deadline, I had much help from my brother, Prince Dave, my own council of girlfriends, and other family and friends who supported me.

And I like to think that I am supported by my guardian angels, my father King Louie, my grandparents, and my aunt, Queen Miriam. They were far away, but very close.

What was even closer: the deadline. After several attempts resulting in gibberish, I moved forward by moving backward. In time. To when I first relocated to South Jersey. To my restaurant experiences. To my love for my parents, and my brother.

The first book was about girlfriends. The second book would be about family.

The first book was a love letter to Philadelphia. The second book would be a love song to Jersey.

There, in that sun dappled room in Collingswood, I put the deadline out of my mind. I picked up a pen and a spiral bound notebook. I wrote, just like I wrote when I was a child. "Welcome home" were the first words.

In January, 2005, I finished my second novel: Love, Life and Linguine. To honor my aunt, I named the heroine Miriam, nicknamed Mimi. For Mimi's last name, I chose my father's first: Louis. The novel, I believe, is doubly blessed.

On April 1, 2005, Queen Marlene and I - ghosts and spirits at our side - walked into Barnes and Noble on Route 70 in Marlton, NJ. There she was. Lexi James and the Council of Girlfriends. Green, and glorious. "Look, Mom," I said. "We did it."

In September, 2005, I returned to Philadelphia. Once again, I live in a tower. Still, I write. Still, I dream.

I dream big. Because, look. Dreams can come true.