Monday we would start beating the pavement, but it was first time to build a strategy.

Brad had many contacts at the larger bookstores and decided we should put together a cross-country tour. He contacted Simone at Barnes & Noble and she was happy to accept my offer to do a book tour having heard that I was picked up by Simon & Schuster.

We would begin in two weeks.

Since we were on the west coast, it was decided that we would travel the country from west to east. Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Napa would be the first three stops.

Two Monday's later came quickly as Simone suggested that we strike while the iron was hot. Simon and Schuster promised the book in two weeks, and actually delivered. I was able to get an advance of 2,500 copies. In a whirlwind fashion, I sold one hundred books at my first event in San Francisco and an additional 3,500 thru online channels in the first week. Not only was a published author, I was making money with the book.

Brady would have been proud of me. My greatest accomplishment was undoubtedly raising my children, but the book project had become a close 2nd.

I was happy with my latest success, Brad was happy to be along for the ride, and the whole process was motivating me to write a second book on the road. It was one of the most rewarding points of time in my life.

Two weeks went by and we were continuing to send out pieces each day.

Then Ellen called.

She called and Brad answered. He was calm, and handed me the phone. A voice on the other end asked calmly, "Is this Stephanie?" I confirmed that is was and the lady on the other end identified herself as Ellen from Simon & Schuster.

She asked, "Are you sitting down?" I sat for a moment and then she said, "Your book has been picked up by our firm and we are granting you a $25,000 advance!" Not knowing what to say next, I jumped nearly out of my shoes and screamed at the top of my lungs, "I am going to be published!"

Brad immediately ran to the fridge and got another bottle of champagne. And this time, he popped the good stuff. Mumm Napa.

I continued to be running around like a blubbering idiot and ran upstairs with my glass of champagne that Brad had poured me to change. We were going out on my dime, and it was not going to be to McDonald's or Burger King.

Osteria Panevino would be the reason for the season; and I meant season, as I knew this contract was just the beginning of a long run of things to do. Book signings, road tours, and many nites of celebration.

I just could NOT wait for the fun to begin. I had done it!

After a full breakfast on Saturday morning, Brad and I began putting together a plan for the week. We had a goal of getting the book sold within a month.

Each week we would contact twenty-five publishing houses. Five per day, with manuscripts sent and phone calls and emails written. Brad had mainly been published at Simon & Schuster, with the exception of a few books which he went the self-publishing route.

Brad had an agent in New York, and she seemed like the best bet to immediately get an offer. Brad had already sent off the book, but he shared with me that it goes thru quite a lengthy process from beginning to end; writing to publishing. Editorial review, cover design, manuscript design, approval, final approval and the like.

Her name was Ellen. Ellen had successfully climber the ladder from a junior agent to Editor-in-Chief. She had been in charge of everything, from one department to another across the industry time and time again. And she was a shark. She had a razor-sharp eye for the business and a rolodex to rival anyone in New York.

She was quick to respond that Wednesday that the book was being considered. Brad and I continued to "get out the word" on a daily basis. We were wasting no time; as we were playing offense and not defense. Brad had shared with me that this was a rough game to win.

I was talking with my father daily and having him ask me about my progress with the novel is what kept him going; as he had had plenty of heartache on his plate. I additionally wrote him letters, and tried to keep him in the loop with text messages as we made progress.

Brad was nothing more than extraordinary. His cause and concern were genuine. I just knew in my heart of hearts that we would soon get an offer.

I would not realize how long it would take to grieve over my mother's death. She had lived a long and fruitful life with my father; but that was not the point...she was gone, and I would not see her for a long time.

Dad and I spent the week together. I called to check on the kids and Brad daily, but he had things covered at Casa Amor. I longed to be there with them, but it was important to spend time with Dad in his moment of grief. It would take him much longer to push away the feelings of emotional turmoil; the demons within, that would haunt him nightly for a while around mom's passing.

Brad was chipping away at his contacts. In his opinion, he felt that he would find a publisher for my book and that it would not take much time. I, on the other hand, was more concerned with Dad. Despite living a hard week with him, we did have a few good times and a few laughs over things. What consoled him most is that he knew in his head that she was in a much better place. Looking down on us...and smiling.

I flew back to San Diego International on a Friday. Brad and the children greeted me at the airport around 6:00 PM. I was famished, so the first order of business would be dinner. It would not take us long to find a suitable and familiar restaurant in the Gas Light District.

Florent was a new spot in town, but we decided that it would be a staple in the restaurant scene around our house. After all, we were just minutes away and the food was phenomenal. After dinner, we decided to go o a local club for a nite cap. Both of the children were old enough at this point to enjoy a nite out, and having spent the last week in a somber mood, I needed to be enlivened.

We danced the nite away, and drank most of what the bar had on tap. In the morning I would be sorry that I had imbibed to excess, but I had been smart enough to drink a lot of water and take a few Advil before bed.

Brad had the grill fired up in the morning, and a nice breakfast consisting of a multitude of things would be the first order of the day before chipping away at selling my novel.

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Brad had built quite a few contacts in his career as a writer. Surely he could help me get the word out.

I was so excited that I called home around 9:00 AM EST. What I got on the other end was Dad. Something was gravely wrong, and I knew it; simply because Mom always answered the phone. She had fallen and broken her hip, busted her noodle (head), and was now in the care of a nursing home. I had to fly home, and the book would have to wait.

Thinking having something to read might cheer her up, I printed a copy as I was packing in a furious manner. I booked a 2:00 PM flight, which would put me home by 7:00 PM that evening; EST. I wasted no time getting to the airport. Sadly, I had seen this happen on several occasions. Nursing homes can be like "Hotel California"; you can "check out", but you can "never leave."

I boarded the plane and in a little over three hours in flight time, I was home. I never wavered in my thoughts. They were solemn and gray the whole time as I flew across the plains and big cities. "What could have happened?" At the ripe-old age of ninety-three, I guess anything could have.

I picked up my rental car and drove straight to Mission Hospital. The nursing wing seemed to be full of a host of characters, and then there was mom. Dad looked distraught as I hugged him. Mom was sleeping and it would not be until 2:00 AM that she awoke due to the pain of her hip and head. She was wrapped tightly to keep the wound on her head from infection, and her eyes seemed far away when she awoke. I could see the worst beginning to happen before she even spoke.

Dad knew it too, and we just wanted her to be comfortable. A little while after a nurse re-dressed her wound, she went back to sleep. At 6:00 AM, I called Brad and asked him to book a flight for Isabella, Liam, Ryan and himself. I needed the support of my family, as this would not be a drawn out process.

They arrived the next afternoon, and were able to see mother. It was Thursday, and she passed away on Monday. Arrangements were made for the funeral on Wednesday.

I knew Dad would be a mess. I agreed to stay another week just with him. I had just turned seventy the week before and all seemed well. It was a sudden and deathly fall for mother; however, but at least she didn't suffer.

Brad, Liam and Isabella and Ryan flew back to Casa Amor that Friday. I promised I would return the following Friday. Brad promised to begin helping me get the word out. Mom was not able to read my novel, but Dad would read it that week. He was proud of me, was happy to meet Brad and was happy that I was happy. In light of the circumstances, all was well.

Mom had gone to her resting place, and it was a time to rejoice.

After finishing the book early in the morning that Sunday morning; three weeks after Brad had started coaching me, I looked at the last sentence I had just written with amazement and read and re-read it over and over again. I had finished a novel. I screamed aloud, "I have finished a novel!"

Isabella awoke and came running to the office. She said, "Mom, say it again!" So I yelled louder, "I have finished MY N-O-V-E-L!!!" By this time, everyone in the house was awake and had scurried down the step to see what was the matter. Nothing was wrong, and everything seemed to be right; or write, with the world...I had just "finished a novel."

Brad knew that it was only 7:15 AM at this point by after hugging me and allowing a little of the commotion to calm down, he scurried to the kitchen, fetched a bottle of Champagne and returned to the office. He brought along some orange juice, but I was just wanting the good stuff. He made a small toast, "To Stephanie, the most beautiful woman on Coronado Beach, and the best writer at Casa Amor!"

I could nary believe the last part, as Brad was so accomplished, but I allowed him to continue to embellish and at the same time lift my spirits. In reality, though, I had done something that only a chosen or select few do. Many of us read books for years, but ,"How many people in this world ever write one?"

Brad continued to encourage me that morning. He stated that we should continue our celebration over a nice breakfast. We did so, and we talked again about the next steps. I had only been working on my platform for a few weeks, but I had a strong network of people.

It was time to get my work out there; and with Brad's help, I knew I would be successful.