I come from a long line of wicked women liars. They didn’t tell malicious lies but lies to see if you were listening. Lies to tease your intellect. Lies to make you smile. During World War II, my grandmother worked for the local Red Cross. When trains full of soldiers on their way to training facilities throughout the South rolled through her town, she’d serve them donuts and coffee and tell them they were in Vicksburg, Mississippi, the town where Grant surrendered. (For the Yankees who are reading this, Vicksburg, Mississippi fell to Grant after a lengthy siege. The Union general, who later became President, never surrendered anywhere.)

Perhaps because the women in my family are all just a bit larger than life, I’ve always been drawn to similar characters in fiction. But growing up in the 1960s and 70s, it was hard to find strong women in fiction—except in romance novels. I’ll never forget the pleasure of reading Georgette Heyer’s The Devil’s Cub for the first time. I wanted to be Mary, the heroine who warns the hero that if he tries to ravish her she’ll shoot him…and does.

At this point if you’ve read the bios on the back of my books, The Souvenir Countess or Souvenir of Love, you’re probably saying to yourself, so that’s why she went into the CIA, she wanted to shoot people. So let me say right here, the only thing I ever shot while working for the CIA were trees and an abandoned car. The truth is after four years of studying history at college and two more years at a graduate school of International Studies, I had honed my job skills to such a degree that only the US government wanted me. Not that I’m complaining, I loved my job. I spent nearly a decade with the CIA, researching and writing about political/military affairs, briefing policymakers, and traveling all over the world. I met my husband while standing in a customs line in Santiago, Chile.

Shortly after the birth of my first child, my husband called me at work to say he’d gotten an offer from his employer he couldn’t refuse. If we agreed to move to the New York area, they’d make him a partner. And so, two weeks later I found myself unemployed, at home with a toddler and with another on the way, living in my hometown in Connecticut. As my children grew, I discovered what my grandmother and mother knew, the pleasure of telling wicked lies. When my children fought over who got to press the elevator button first, I convinced them that the more times you press the button, the faster the elevator will go. Eventually I decided to stretch my imagination even farther and write a book. Seven months later, I had a manuscript that would become my first novel, The Souvenir Countess. With an arrogant earl, a headstrong aristocratic fugitive, a jilted fiancée, a matchmaking manservant, a scheming steward, and a flamboyant French comtesse, you can be sure it’s packed with wicked lies. And like the lies of my grandmother and mother before me, I hope they make you smile.

more about Joanna:

» Joanna joins New Jersey Romance Writers promoting Valentine's Day romance at New York's Grand Central Station and was photographed with Soprano's star Jamie Lynn Sigler. (Photo credit Kristin Callahan) posted: 3.01.04

» Celebrity sightings in Fairfield County, including "Tom Brokaw, David Letterman, and author Joanna Novins" were reported in Susie Costaregni's “The Dish” in the January 10 Stamford Advocate, but alas, it was rather quickly cycled off the site for newer gossip so no link to offer. Nevertheless, it was quite decent company, and Joanna was tickled. posted: 2.03.04