Hi, Friend

This email is different. It does not contain a single important bit of book info. Not one iota, no excerpt, no morsel, no link to read. 

But wait! I can hear you thinking. Isn't Olivia an author?

Yes, but for the past two weeks, Olivia-the-author has been exchanged for Olivia-the-vacationer. The switch happened in an airplane high above the sea where, for one suspenseful moment, Olivia-the-author closed her laptop. Cue angels singing.

The past two weeks have been heavenly. I have swum with sea turtles over a shipwreck. I have drunk one (or two, or three) pina coladas. Olivia-on-vacation has also had a lot of brilliant writing ideas. It's amazing, the things a relaxed brain can come up with. Who knew?

So what does this email contain, you might wonder?

• A pic of the most gorgeous beach
  
• The cutest traffic sign ever
• A joke about the 1st of March. 

And... that's kind of it. But I promise we'll soon return to regularly scheduled programming! 

Stay safe and sane,
Olivia

PS: I can't thank you enough for all the love on A Ticking Time Boss. 1,755 reviews and counting, only two weeks after release. I am mind blown!

Just look at that traffic sign. I love it.

(Also, the title of this segment is ironic. 
This place is so much more than just decent.)

(I know, I have a terrible sense of humor)

Emails disappear. It happens all the time, in email servers high and low. Spam filters get too eager and boom, the newsletter with bonus content from that awesome author you like gets sorted away. 

But to every difficult problem there's a solution, and it's called whitelisting. Add my email address as one of your contacts. Or, you can reply to my emails (I'll reply back!) and it'll teach your email provider that we're buddies, and that I'm not sp&m. 

Want instructions on how to whitelist for your email provider? Find them below.

Have you read all of my bonus stories? 
These include extra chapters and extended epilogues.

I was supposed to go on a tourist submarine the other day that dives to a depth of 144 feet to explore a shipwreck.  And... I got on it, saw how tiny it was, and promptly turned right around, climbed back out, and said peace. I guess I'm not a submarine kind of girl. Glad to have learned that about myself!