My thanks to Rich Moyer, animator, graphic designer, and on-call standup comedian, who provided the concept for the cover art book title, and who was kind enough to design the back and spine art for the print run. Because of him, when someone uses the word “bleed,” I don’t automatically race to apply direct pressure or reach for a tourniquet.
My appreciation to Colin Ingram for patiently dictating the realistic “tower chatter” that occurs between pilots and control towers at small airports.
Susan Tunis, my dear friend since the very first ThrillerFest, who provided expert criticism and praise–in equal measures–that made this a book worth reading.
To my friend, Robin Burcell, who was forthright enough to tell me that the book description I had drafted was awful, and who rewrote it despite her own pressing book deadline.
My eternal thanks to my Number One Fan, Vicki Facciponte, who was so fed-up with the typos in the manuscript that she copy edited it for me. Any errors that remain are solely the fault of the author.
My friends Boyd and Randi Morrison for their unflagging kindness and support over the last few years, and for never flinching from pointing out the good, the bad, and the ugly in the book. A special thanks for Randi who was convinced that this book would be my “breakout novel.”
Kara Lanham, my friend since seventh grade, for being the first person who I trusted with my writing, and who has been a constant source of encouragement for almost a decade. Gale Ingram, Lisa Mee and Jen Dodd, beta readers and friends. Without your weekly emails begging me for more chapters, this book would never have been finished.
Kristin Benn and Catherine Szot for providing daily comic inspiration for many of the situations and characters in the book.
My mother, Linda Loy, who graciously tolerated my habit of sending her book chapters woefully out of chronological order, and who was always happy to read anything I sent her way.
Gale Wiley, one of the most widely-read people I know, whose opinion I always value, and who was man enough to read a “chick book.”
My father, Larry Thurlow, who shared his love of books with me since before I can remember, and whose storytelling ability and sense of humor I am grateful to have inherited.
My sisters, Alexis Thurlow and Tamara McCallan, neither of whom would allow me to give up my writing dream, even when I wanted to. Oh, and thanks for being laugh riots in your own right. You are a daily dose of hilarity and support.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
An early mid-life crisis propelled Elle Lothlorien to take a Lindy Hop swing dance class at a Denver bar. Two years (and a few ankle and knee braces) later she does a mad Charleston and can pancake like nobody’s business.
A "military brat," Elle was born in Germany and spent her childhood in such far-flung places as Puerto Rico, Charleston, S.C., Italy, and Washington D.C. Sadly, the only language she ever became semi-fluent in is English.
Elle currently lives in Denver, Colorado. She keeps a miniature dachshund around the house to provide comic relief.
Table of Contents