Getting to know Susan Gee Heino

Hosted by Kirsten Scott

Susan, thanks so much for joining us in the Lair!

Thanks for having me, Kirsten! I just love my visits to the lair. My pet rooster, Sunset, gets a bit jealous, though, when he realizes I’ve been sneaking around on him.

So, the truth is, Susan, I fell in love with you when we met in Orlando, and haven't been able to get my mind off you since. I thought I would orchestrate this "guest blog" as an opportunity to get to know you a little better. :-)

Aw, you're so sweet, Kirsten! I'm pretty sure I'm crushing on you, too. (Wait a minute, what kind of blog is this?!) But seriously, it was great to meet you in Orlando. Yay for tall girls! Let's hang out again sometime, okay? We can get the kids together and let them go out to play with the psycho racoons.

Oh, the racoons! Yes, definitely. But back to the blog. First question: your house is on fire (the pets, kids and hubby are all safe). Before you flee, you can grab one armful of things from the house. What do you take?

I’d grab my computer, my phone, the family scrapbooks, and this pair of really great white capris that I know I’ll never, ever be able to replace. I mean seriously, do you know how hard it is to find white pants that actually look good?

Yes, I do. In fact, that's why I don't own any white pants. Maybe now that I know your secret, I'll steal yours. Next, please tell us about an enormously stupid and/or embarrassing thing you did in high school.

Oh, you do love to torture, don’t you? Okay, I don’t know if this is PG 13 or not, but it’s by far the most embarrassing moment from my otherwise very dull high school career. Here we go:

My senior year I had room for one additional elective class. I chose French. Thought it would make me seem very smart and continental. So, there I was my first day of first year French, surrounded by wee little, snotty-nosed freshmen. I felt so superior. Plus, I’d already had several years of Spanish, so I kind of had a clue how this romance language thing worked. I was Madame Neeley’s star pupil. I sat right up in front and raised my hand for every question—of course I got them all right.

Until the day—the fateful day. We shall call it the Day of Creative Egg Use.

The teacher wrote a new word on the board and asked the class to try and guess it based on the context of a sentence she was using. I had not been paying close attention, since I already knew everything, of course. Everyone in the class was guessing, and everyone was getting it wrong. The teacher’s hints were getting more and more obvious: “It’s about this big around. It’s smooth. It is rounded at the ends.” And so on. The word, dear readers, was oeuf.

Now, if you understand a smattering of French, you may realize this word translates to “egg”. All the teacher’s hints as to shape, smoothness, diameter, etc. fit this perfectly. In hindsight, I realized they also may have been construed to relate to some, er, other item. At the time though, I did not put it all together.

I did not know the word meant egg. I thought it looked rather like “oaf”. And, being the star pupil, I hated to admit I did not know this word. So, in my usual fashion, I determined the best thing to do would be to make a joke of it. But instead of saying, “Does this word mean oaf?” I thought I would use a cooler, more hip word to express that same thing. I would use a word I’d heard kids calling each other on the bus. A silly sounding word. A word that I thought meant something akin to oaf, idiot, or even bimbo.

I blurted out, “Does the word mean dildo?”

Apparently dildo meant something more than I thought it did. The teacher nearly had an aneurism. The freshmen peed their pants. I couldn’t pull off the “Sure, I meant to say that” expression I plastered on my face. They all knew I was a moron. All I could do was wait for the bell, then go home and look the word up in a dictionary. Ouch. Then I had an aneurism and peed my pants. And tried to convince my parents to transfer me to another school.

They wouldn’t, and somehow I got up the courage to go back to French class, but it was several days before the teacher could look at me without turning bright red and bursting into mortifying laughter. I did manage to pull straight A’s, though, which was hardly consolation for my shredded teenage pride.

Wow, (Hushed voice.) That's truly horrible. Someday, I'll tell you about my walrus costume from the high school musical and we can share our PTSD experiences.

Next question: If you could live anywhere in the world, and in any type of house, what would you choose?

Hmm, that’s such a fun question! I would need to have a flying house so I could live several different places. I love England and have dear friends there, plus I completely adore Florida and any place with palm trees, and of course I’d want to be near family in Ohio and Kentucky, and I’ve always thought it might be cool to have my very own island somewhere... golly, there’s so many amazing places in the world! But the house itself would probably be a big, rambling, totally impractical Victorian with all sorts of add-ons and modernizations that would make architectural purists cringe with horror. And I’d need lots of room for all the critters, of course. Oh yeah, and a little nook for the husband and kids, too

Now tell us, Susan, why should we rush out and buy your latest release, Damsel in Disguise?

Oh, because it’s the best book ever, of course! (Yes, I’m laughing. You may, too.) I think Damsel In Disguise is a great choice for anyone who loves the light, humorous traditional Regency with all sorts of mistaken identity, clever lies, and quirky plot twists. It’s also pretty steamy, with a hero who, frankly, makes me kind of drool. Julia St. Clement is a resourceful actress who finds a creative way to survive just about anything, while her hero, Rastmoor, is a very determined guy who is willing to take some very big risks in order to get what he wants. There is plenty of adventure and laughter as they make their way back to forgiveness and true love.

Finally, I want to play a little game -- you may have played it before. Give us two truths and one lie about yourself, but don't tell which is which. That's our job to figure out, now that we know you so well.

Oh dear, I’m a terrible liar. Let’s see, what shall I say here? 1) I’m married to a minister and the little old ladies at church rush out to buy my books and giggle when they see me; 2) I once had a pet skunk that was de-scented and I taught it to use the toilet and even flush; 3) my sisters and I used to sing together for a local television talk show where we also performed comedy sketches.


Perfect! I can definitely see you performing a comedy sketch with your sisters, but then the skunk thing sounds more than possible...but it's always the one you don't expect in this game so...

Thank you so much, Banditas, and while Kirsten's thinking, I’d love to give a signed copy of DAMSEL IN DISGUISE to the first person who guesses which statement is a lie. (Okay, close friends and family, you’re exempt! Heck, you’ve probably gone out and bought three or four copies of my book already, right? Right?) Love’s funny sometimes, people!

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