Most of my American readers know that I don't have much confidence in the Dutch mail pigeon.

The animal is old, slow and shortsighted.

Sometimes, it takes the bird weeks to deliver contest prizes, and letters to the US of A.

But what he brought about this week goes beyond all imagination!

It all happened a few days ago when I returned home from a wonderful vacation in sunny Tuscany.



It's raining cats and dogs when I enter my house.

The usual mess awaits me at home :-), and I spend a few hours on cleaning, checking my mail and unpacking my suitcase.

"Shall I get us a Chinese take out dinner?" my hub asks.

"Great idea, I'm hungry. And Chinese food will be a relief after all those pizzas."

Because the rain's still bucketing down, hub decides to go by car, and I watch him step inside the vehicle in a hurry.

When the car slowly drives backwards, I suddenly hear a strange noise. Seconds later I discover a soaked cardboard box under the wheels.

"Oh great," I whisper to myself, "someone's used my parking lot as a garbage dump."

Hub has seen the litter too. I watch him getting out of the car to throw the filth into the trash.

All of a sudden, his face turns pale and I hear him cry out.

"Ooks!" he shouts.

Ooks? What does he mean, "Ooks"? The word is completely unfamiliar to me.

I rush to the hall, finding my husband placing the wet litter on the doormat.

"Wait a minute, you fool! Get that garbage out of my..."

The rest of sentence gets stuck at the inside of my throat, when I discover a very familiar picture on top of the soaked box.

Three beautiful women on a sunny yellow beach, watching the skyline of Venice...

An ice cold chill flashes down my spine.

Impossible! My eyes must be cheating me.

That can't be the cover of my brand new Dutch chicklit novel!

The release is due in two weeks! Right?

I carry the dripping box to the living and with trembling fingers I pull it open.

And there they are: ten completely soaked and dripping copies of my brand new chicklit, "Brouhaha in Venice."

"My book is out," I whisper in shock, "my new book is out! It's all wet!"

Five minutes later, I put on my shoes and run to the postoffice.

That darn mail pigeon! I'll teach him!

Greetings from The Netherlands,