All about me      My writing career started when I won a writing contest and $75 bucks in high school on why farming is important to America. I referenced the glories of Wonder Bread to a panel of farmer judges. That was before white bread was deemed evil. Years later, after going into the world of scientific research, I wrote grants which I often called fiction with thin nonfiction subplots. I took that hat off when we moved to a small town in the south. It's a Mayberry place where people operate at the speed of mosey, the sidewalks roll up at five, and the county is dry. No worries about the prohibition part though. A foot outside the county line are 17 liquor stores all clustered together. I started writing fiction for real after we visited a local church that was big on potluck dinners and where the women were quick to share their Texas Tea recipe with me. It was when I met the truly religious: a zealous PTA president looking for converts and a football coach shaped like a brick that I wrote Southern Sweet Tarts.    I like a lot of genres, but I especially love a great romance novel. This interest started after I read Jane Eyre at age 16. For a couple of months afterward, I walked around in a daze, swooning over Edward Rochester. Oh, the complicated hero in need of saving! Eesh!    My interest in love stories has also been spurred by knowing some great men, starting with my grandfather, my favorite fishing buddy and catcher of all worms, baiter of all hooks. When my brother, at age 10, invited me to his version of a tea party where upon he shot a dove with his BB gun and proceeded to try to dress it and cook it with his Boy Scout cooking gear, I decided men were curiously fascinating creatures. (My version of a tea party, at the much more inexperienced age of 5, was to put Tang in a play tea set and drink it.) Years later, my husband and sons have not dimmed my curiosity or improved my understanding of the opposite sex one bit. They're sort of like a wreck you can't stop staring at, only in a good way.