If you know me you may also receive a version of the above that includes a plump delicious baby covered in this very delicious cake.

A few years back, a photo of a baby tarred and feathered with their own birthday cake was one of my least favorite things, ranking only slightly ahead of monkeys in bathrooms struggling with the intricacies of toilet paper.

But then I started smoking teh baby crack.

And haven't looked back.

Actually I have. Am doing it now, in fact. Looking back, that is.

Back to work, me.

As you may know, my mother was a prolific and respected romance novelist, who passed away this summer five years (and six books) after being diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Today, many of the novelists she knew and blogged with at Word Wenches wrote a special "fairy godmother" post for my Delia. I couldn't read it without crying, but I bet you can. Check it out here.

Related: My mother's final book, finished in March and published in October, has been nominated for RT's Best British Isles-Set Historical Romance.