Author Archives: Kristan Higgins

  Today, the Princess asked how the empty nest was going, and I said, “It’s great! We’re having a lot of fun.” She said, “Are you just saying that because you’re afraid to tell me the truth?” I laughed. Repeated … Continue reading →

  The other day, the Princess and I were in Sephora, that den of temptation. My darling girl had to get something before she went back to college, and we were in the line, when I saw…it. The Thing That … Continue reading →

My knee and I have an on-again, off-again relationship. For 25 years, it’s occasionally bothered me, and I limp around tragically for a couple of hours until the pain magically disappears in the blink of an eye. Since hitting the … Continue reading →

My mother’s father was born in Terre Haute, Indiana. His parents immigrated from Hungary; neither spoke English when they arrived. My great-grandfather worked in the coal mines. My grandfather had two brothers. They didn’t learn to speak English until they … Continue reading →

  The best thing about romance readers is they believe in hope. Better endings. The ability to change and grow. For the past week, I’ve been in Florida for the Romance Writers of America National Conference, and as I’m writing this, … Continue reading →

Dearest Son was due on Valentine’s Day; he came on December 6, an emergency c-section in the middle of the night requiring a two-and-a-half month stay in the hospital. They didn’t show us his face when he was born— “It’s … Continue reading →

  Next week, I’m heading to Orlando for the national conference of Romance Writers of America! Yay for the conference! Boo for Orlando in the summertime! If you see me being carried off by a huge mosquito, please alert the … Continue reading →

When I was about three, I locked myself in the bathroom closet. My dad was away with the Army Reserves, so my mom was home with three little kids. I’d been brushing my teeth, and for some reason, I decided … Continue reading →

When I was a little kid, my parents bought a house on Cape Cod. It’s a simple little place—absolutely nothing glamorous about it except that it’s on the Cape. The furnishings are battered, the windows rattle and the screens have … Continue reading →

  When Dearest Son was born, he was very tiny. I was terribly sick, pretty much out of it for a few days, needing to stay in the hospital for two weeks to recover. Those days seemed to last for … Continue reading →