I had just gotten my second book published. During the nine months it took from acceptance of the manuscript to its actual publication, I spent my time taking advantage of the new mass communication age of networking and advertising. I knew the success of this book would determine my being able to publish the next. My biggest account was MySpace, and back and forth there were links to my website, my book publisher, my yahoo groups accounts, my reviews, and more. MySpace was really really valuable to me, because I've moved approximately 35 times, I went to three different elementary schools, nine different highschools, and two different colleges, and my name is not one that's very forgettable. So far, I'm the only one who exists. Hundreds upon hundreds of people from those schools would find me, and I hoped, would buy the book thinking, "Hey, I went to school with that girl." As goes for the rest of the population I was hoping to attract other writers and avid readers looking for authors on MySpace. For the male population, my author photo was a means of our getting on one another's friends list.

I was getting approximately 25 invites a day where I conversed with each and every one of them in order to build a professional relationship so that I could build quite the extensive mailing list once the book came out. Typically many of these conversations started off as, "Wow, you're hot. You want to do it with me?" Talk about breaking the ice. But with continuing conversation, they grew to respect me a bit more and were embarrassed over how they first approached me. Harmony dot com lets people send roses. MySpace should allow you to send smacks across the face or a kick or two in the groin.

I knew my husband was a computer genius. I knew he was a hacker and was able to hack most anything if he put his mind to it. No, he wasn't the type you see on the movies trying to get into FBI and Secret Intelligence Accounts. Most of his talents were put to use trying to pirate software and download music and movies without having to pay for it. Like a child, if I caught him doing these things, he would lose his privileges to the computer and wouldn't get them back until he could be a good boy. It wasn't his life anymore.

Before me, however, having had a horrendous child life full of physical, sexual, and emotional violence, he spent a lot of time homeless where he would use computer-access at the library wherever he was at to hack into other's accounts and take money

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