Archive for 2015

Those Naughty Ladies are Back and Having Fun

September 22, 2015 | New Releases

French Tart (Naughty Ladies of Nice Book 1)

French Delight (Naughty Ladies of Nice Book 2)

French Twist (Naughty Ladies of Nice Book 3)

Coming Soon

French Omelette American Style

September 21, 2015 | New Releases

Although Mark Anderson, the hero in my erotic short story French Tart, knows exactly how to use his hands in the bedroom, he’s at a complete loss in the kitchen. Chef-in-the-Making Donatienne Dubois can’t understand his problem. What is simpler to prepare than a cheese omelet? Here’s the easy recipe I loaned Donni for her cooking class. Below that Mark and Donni are hard at work. Well, at least one of them is.

Cheese Omelet
1½ tbsp. butter
2 tbsp. onion, coarsely chopped
2 large eggs, beaten well
pinch of ground thyme
freshly ground pepper to taste
small handful extra sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
small handful aged Swiss cheese, shredded
Chives or parsley to decorate

Preheat 250°F.

Use an 8-inch, non-stick skillet, to melt butter over medium heat. Add onion and sauté until translucent. Shuffle the pan often so the onion doesn’t burn

Whisk together eggs, pepper, and thyme, then pour into the hot pan. Gently swirl the pan to prevent the eggs from sticking. As they set, carefully lift the edges to allow raw egg to flow onto the hot pan.

Sprinkle the cheeses evenly across the eggs. Flip one side of the omelette over the other to make a half-moon. Slide onto a plate and set in the oven while you prepare more omelettes.

The finished omelette will be a nice yellow color with the cheese melted. Sometimes they will brown a bit. Don’t worry, this does not affect the delicate taste.

Here’s a brief intro to my fun erotic romance releasing tomorrow.

Bon Appétit…Satisfy all your cravings at cooking school.

Determined to prove herself and shed her party girl image, Donatienne Dubois pins her hope on the exclusive cooking school in Nice, France. One by one her expectations are shattered by a foul-mouthed parrot, a bogus Michelin chef, and a headmistress with a heart of tungsten steel. Donni’s lifesaver is a bad boy too hot not to handle.

Mark Anderson is incognito and hating every moment. To pose as a student while keeping tabs on a rich wild child is his version of hell, until he partners with the dish of Crème Brulée good enough to eat.

Class takes on a whole new meaning as Doni and Mark heat up the kitchen when they discover honey has better uses than sweetening tea.

EXCERPT
Mark pasted a cheery smile on his face. Hell, he was getting the hang of this cooking stuff. He tipped the mountain of cheese piled on his platter and leaned closer to the stove, eyeing the pan that looked too small to hold it all.

“Stop!” Doni held up her tiny hand. “You cannot toss all that in here.”

He stumbled backward. What the hell? He’d done exactly what she told him. She couldn’t blame him because the damn block of cheese grated up to Matterhorn size.

“Are you sure you’re in the right cooking school?” She threw in a handful of the white shreds and shuffled the pan until one side of the omelet flipped over the other.

“Are you sure it’s cooked?” He pointed at the pan. “Looks kind of pale to me.”

“Are you sure you know anything about food?” She glared at him while wiping her slender fingers on a striped blue towel. “Sebastien, this is the easiest dish we’ll prepare. What’s going to happen when we advance to boeuf à la mode and present it?”

Now she had him on this present thing, let alone whatever the hell kind of food she meant. If it even was food.

“No problem. I’m your man and ready to step up to the plate.” Dammit. How stupid was that, to make a baseball reference? Quick, change the subject. “What’s next?”

She handed him a coffee cup.

Good, a caffeine jolt would go good about now.

“Snip the chives.”

“Ah, sure.” He gingerly took the mug, wondering what the hell she expected of him.

“These, Sebastien”—she waved a handful of limp skinny green sticks at him—“are chives. From the onion family.” She shook her head, then slid the omelet onto an oval platter. When he didn’t move, she slapped a pair of scissors into his palm. “Do I have to do it for you?”

“You don’t have to be insulting.”

“I apologize.” She tossed her head to move a thick strand of hair from her cheek. He looped the blonde lock around his finger—pure silk—then curled it behind her ear. Her breath quickened and his heart swelled. He leaned into her, needing to taste her pink lips. The sweet aroma of flowers filled his lungs.

“Chives.”

Before he could say anything, Chef edged between them.

“Interesting.” Chef took the platter from Doni. “Perhaps a bit plain, do you not think?”

She gasped when he grabbed a handful of some chopped green thing and plopped the wad on her omelet, obliterating the light-colored food.

Pierre flapped overhead, squawking like he had steak knives shoved up his ass. He hovered over the platter, then plop!

“We are always whipping up something new in the kitchen.” Chef sniffed and raised his fist to the bird. “This, however, can never be on a menu.”

He dropped the plate back into Doni’s hands and strolled on to the next pair of fledgling chefs.

Doni blinked rapidly as she pressed her lips tight. Mark slung an arm around her shoulder, feeling guilty as hell that he’d done nothing to stop…

BUY LINKS

Amazon
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For those of you who don’t know me, I’m an Award-Winning author who believes humor and sex are healthy aspects of our everyday lives. I carry that philosophy into my books. I write sexually explicit romances that take you right into the bedroom. Being a true romantic, all my stories have a happy ever after.

My books are set in Europe where the men are all male and the North American women they encounter are both feminine and strong. They also bring more than lust to their men’s lives.

I was born and raised on the Southside of Chicago. Studly, my mate for life, and I now live in a small home in Indiana and enjoy the change from city life. I’m an avid cook and post new recipes on this blog every Wednesday. The recipes are user friendly, and I strive for easy.

Currently I have six erotic romance books and one box set either released or coming soon from Toque & Dagger Publishing. Excerpts from these books can be found on my website, blog, and all popular vendors.

Subscribe to my short newsletter. Connect with with me on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+.

Happy reading!
Sloane

THE WILD LIFE

September 16, 2015 | Author Friend Promo

by Michael Weitz

Growing up in a small rural community has its charms though we rarely appreciate them until we’ve grown up. One of the things I enjoyed was looking for deer, badgers, coyotes, birds and whatever else might be wild and not on a farm. It passed the time while my dad drove us through the surrounding agricultural fields on our way to a movie or to the home of a friend who happened to live seven miles out of town and surrounded by acres of wheat fields.

Today I live in a larger city that, if they’re smart, animals of an untamed nature tend to shy away from. After all, a raccoon driving a minivan around town to pick up his forest pals just doesn’t wash unless it’s in a Pixar movie, right? Besides, even though a raccoon has “hands” that could grasp the steering wheel, it lacks the size to reach the gas pedal and still be able to see where it’s going. That being said, my neighborhood surrounds a pond that is home to a number of creatures and my wife and I feel very lucky to be able to sit and watch their activities while we relax after a long day.

There are Canada geese, but the Canada moniker seems dicey because every spring we watch the newly-hatched goslings form a maritime train behind their parents in our pond so there is obviously some dual citizenship agreement; frogs and toads perform a nightly chorus that sounds more like broken fog horns than anything of the “ribbit” variety; Mallard ducks build their nests and receive an occasional visit from a colorful Wood duck, and there’s a turtle or two who are only seen when they sun themselves on a rock. We’ve even spied a fox trotting through our neighbors yard, but my favorite is a Blue Heron that appears nearly every day to stand majestically along the shore. It’s all very serene.

We’d recently bought our house and had been living in it for a few months before I finally dug out our binoculars in order to get a better look at the heron we’d arbitrarily dubbed “Simon.” The bright yellow eyes glared down his saber-like beak seemingly fixed in a permanent scowl of concentration. His grayish blue plumage smoothed back as he slowly stepped into the water of the pond. “Honey, come check out Simon!” I called to my wife. “The binoculars really bring him in close.”

She’d just poured a glass of wine and came outside to enjoy the warm weather. I handed her the optics and pointed to where the bird was standing stock-still. She looked through the binoculars and said, “Ooh, he’s so neat. He’s looking at something under the water. I wonder if-Oh! Blegh! He got a frog!”

“What? Let me look!” I said. She handed me the binoculars and I quickly focused on Simon. Sure enough he had a frog the size of a football dangling from the end of his beak. No sooner had I seen this, though, than the bird dropped the frog onto the grass and stared as it leaped twice and back into the water. Two giant steps and a flap of his mighty wings brought Simon to the water’s edge just as fast and with a lunge he snatched the frog and brought it back ashore. Again he dropped it and again he caught it and brought it back from the water.

“Do you want to look somemo…” That’s when Simon cocked his long neck into an S and with Bruce Lee-like speed, unleashed his beak of fury. In a flash Simon stabbed the frog, reared back and stabbed it twice more. That frog was dead, yep, no question. “Never mind, honey,” I mumbled and tried not to retch. The swift and bloody violence was shocking and worthy of a Scorsese film.

But I kept watching. The prey was dead, the predator victorious, now it was time to dine. If you’ve seen a heron, you know their necks are about as wide as a champagne flute and there are no knives and forks available at the pond side restaurant. I was genuinely, if somewhat morbidly, curious to see how Simon intended to down his dinner. In fact, it was a gluttonous scene of maneuvering the carcass into his mouth head first, lifting his head high and swallowing the frog whole. Through the binoculars I was awarded a splendid view as Simon’s neck swelled to near bursting as the night’s menu slid down into his stomach. No sooner had his neck returned to its slender, graceful state than he knocked back a quick sip of pond water. If he had lips I swear he would have smacked them.

That was the first time we’d witnessed Simon dining on the local wildlife and it was the last time my wife took up the binoculars to look upon his beauty. But we still feel blessed to live here on the pond. Simon has grown fatter and the number of frog voices singing the nightly song has diminished, but we’ve seen other birds and been visited by the occasional mammal. Oddly enough though, no raccoon. Although now that I think about it, there were some unaccounted for miles on the car after I left the garage door open the other night…

All my best,
Michael Weitz

Here is a short intro to Michael’s mystery novel for your reading pleasure.

Making house calls or meeting people in public places is how Ray Gordon makes his living. He’s not a doctor. He’s not a prostitute. Ray Gordon is a chess teacher.

When one of Ray’s students, Walter Kelly, is found dead in his shop, the police and his family let it go as an accident. Ray, however, doesn’t buy it. As a former cop with a lingering curiosity, Ray snoops around and stumbles into the murky world of methamphetamine, the worst drug epidemic of our time.

The problem? Walter Kelly was sixty-five years old and his only addictions were woodworking and chess. How does a sixty-five-year-old man become involved with illegal drugs? Why is a neighbor glad Walter’s dead? And just how do dead men play chess?

EXCERPT
To take my mind off the task at hand, I thought about Brian Kelly. Was it just the cabin going to waste that rubbed him the wrong way or was it the land value he was afraid of missing out on? Real estate assessments had been big news over the last month or two. Housing prices and land deals had gone berserk and sellers were making massive profits. Maybe Brian was in trouble financially and he just couldn’t take it anymore? Walt refused to sell and Brian killed him for it, knowing the cabin would eventually come into his hands or he would at least be able to talk his mother into putting the land up for sale.

Outside, I heard Ed Carter’s back door creak open and closed. I poured fresh water over the floor and started mopping it up. If Ed planned on being neighborly again, I didn’t think he needed to witness the clean-up process. But after several minutes passed without an appearance from the Kellys’ neighbor, I began my attack on the table saw with a scouring pad.

Just as I got into a nice scrubbing rhythm, Morphy growled low in his throat and raised his head off of his paws. I stopped and watched him. His ears were erect and his gaze was on the window behind me. Goose flesh erupted on my arms. To hide the shiver that ran down my spine, I resumed wiping down the table saw with calm casualness. I kept my attention focused on Morphy, though, and he growled again. This time, the hair over his shoulders stiffened and rose up as his emotions kicked in. Someone was watching or trying to look in the window. Morphy wouldn’t get so angry over something like a skunk or a cat.

I twisted around just as Morphy leapt to his feet and barked. Someone ducked down before I could see a face. I ran to the door and pulled it open. Morphy tore around the corner, barking after the intruder and I followed as close as I could.

In the darkness of Margie Kelly’s backyard, I saw Morphy’s blond fur disappear into the black shadow of Walt’s shop. He chased a dim figure, which ran toward the back of the property, to Helen Parker’s house. I ran full out once I saw the shadowy form of the person who had been spying through the window. Gone were the trepidations of twisted ankles and bloodied shins from unseen objects lying hidden on the grass.

I ran.

Even Dead Men Play Chess
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Michael Weitz is an award-winning author who grew up in the Pacific Northwest, usually reading anything he could get his hands on. He wrote his first novel in the 6th Grade — an eight page rip-off of Star Wars.

A variety of jobs including waiter, gas station attendant, truck driver and a host of others, helped shape his world. After college he landed in the television industry where he wrote and produced a multitude of award-winning commercials, two documentaries about Mt. St. Helens and various other projects.

After a few years in Phoenix, AZ, Michael, his wife, and their dogs are back in the Pacific Northwest. Currently working on the next Ray Gordon mystery, Michael may also be found reading, playing chess or shooting pool. As an avid photographer, he enjoys traveling anywhere picturesque with his wife.

Learn more about Michael Weitz on his website and Goodreads.

Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter.

Rosh Hashanah 10-2016

September 14, 2015 | Holidays

Photo by Boaz Yiftach

SOMETHING SMELLS GOOD

September 9, 2015 | Author Friend Promo, Cooking

This week we have the amazing fantasy author Chris Pavesic in the kitchen preparing a delicious and healthy addition to your dinner menu. The kitchen is all yours, Chris.

This recipe is one of the first I make during the fall season to go along with the bountiful harvest of apples available in my area of the Midwest.

I use organic ingredients whenever I can. I find that it improves the flavor and I think it is healthier for me and my family. However, this chutney can easily be made with non-organic ingredients as well. It is all up to you—the cook.

Traditionally apple chutney is a savory sauce made from apples, brown sugar, vinegar, onions and various herbs and spices. It has a sweet and tart flavor that complements meat dishes such as roast chicken, beef, ham and pork chops.

In my family, certain people are allergic to onions (myself included). So I adapt recipes to take these allergies into consideration. I thought I would share my recipe with you.

Easy Apple Chutney
⅔ cup brewed tea, warm*
8 organic ginger candies
5 large apples, peeled, cored, and diced.
1 cup celery, diced very fine
⅓ cup Key Lime Juice
¾ cup light brown sugar, lightly packed
¾ cup cider vinegar
1 tsp. dried mustard powder or 2 tsp. yellow mustard
1½ tsp. sea salt
¾ cup dried cherries

Partially dissolve the ginger candies in the tea. Do not be concerned if the ginger candies do not completely dissolve. They will continue to melt during the cooking.You can substitute 1 tbsp. powdered ginger or 2 tbsp. minced fresh ginger in place of the candies. If you do, increase the light brown sugar to 1 Cup, lightly packed.

Combine the tea mixture and all remaining ingredients into a Dutch Oven. Cover and simmer for 50 minutes on your stovetop, stirring occasionally. Remove the cover and cook for about another 20 minutes. You want the excess liquid to evaporate and the chutney to thicken.

Remove from the Dutch Oven and set aside to cool. Store covered in the refrigerator.

I like recipes that can be made in Dutch Ovens and Crock Pots. They really save a lot of time/effort. This one is probably one of the more elaborate ones—and yet the prep time is only about 15 minutes.

Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cooking Time: 70 minutes

*I use Trader Joe’s Specialty Pomegranate White Tea made with Organic White Tea Leaves, Hibiscus Flowers, and Lemongrass.

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated in any way with any of the products/companies discussed in this post.)

Cheers!

Here is a brief introduction to Wonderland, the latest fantasy book by Chris Pavesic. Enjoy!

You may think you know her story.

You don’t.

Throughout her life Alice has faced fear and isolation, but she has never given up hope. In the City by the Bay she has one last chance to find happiness; one last chance to find friendship; one last chance to find Wonderland.

Click here to watch the YouTube video.

Chris Pavesic is a fantasy author who lives in the Midwestern United States and loves Kona coffee, steampunk, fairy tales, and all types of speculative fiction. Between writing projects, Chris can most often be found reading, gaming, gardening, working on an endless list of DIY household projects, or hanging out with friends. Learn more about Chris on her website.

Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter.

SHE’S HOOKED

September 7, 2015 | Author Friend Promo

by Carol Browne

Photo by adamr.

As a voracious book reader, I have lived my life believing in the superiority of the printed book; then my beta-reader kindly gave me her Kindle. Once I had figured out how to use it (three weeks well spent), my perspective underwent a sea change.

When I bought my first eBook and saw it download to my Kindle, it was a magical moment. I was also delighted to discover the device doubles as a flash drive.

There’s something amazing about travelling around with an entire library of books at your disposal and in these days of multi-tasking, being able to read, eat and drink at the same time in total comfort is most welcome. To someone like me on a low income, the availability of cheap or free eBooks is a blessing too.

From an eco-friendly point of view, no trees are cut down to make eBooks. Digital publishing also allows more authors to put their work before the reading public, often publishing great work that traditional publishers have rejected because they aren’t commercial enough.

I once assumed the device itself would be a distraction but, if you’re an avid bookworm, the body of an e-reader is no more of an intrusion than the body of a paperback; no more of a hindrance to your enjoyment than a screen is when you are watching a good movie.

Many will disagree. A teenage friend of mine prefers printed books because he likes the act of turning the pages. For me, the Kindle’s page-turning function is quicker and easier. Plus, you can say good-bye to the exasperation of having your bookmark fall out and not being able to remember where you were up to.

Meanwhile, another friend of mine is changing her opinion about eBooks. While moving to a smaller house, she regretted her vast collection of paperbacks that would have to be accommodated in less space—and then discovered many of them were mouldy and infested with mites. Yuk. She’ll be buying her first Kindle soon!

There is still a place for printed books in my home. I have about a dozen I will always cherish, but these books belong to an exclusive club. It’s unlikely I’ll be adding new members.

Unless they’re written by me, of course.

Carole Browne writes speculative fiction, non-fiction, and poetry. She is also a ghost blog writer, proofreader, copy editor, and copywriter. Along with a passion for gardening, Carol is an avid animal lover. Stay connected with Carol on Facebook.

Grilling Season is NOT Over

September 2, 2015 | Cooking, New Releases

This is really Studs’ recipe, but I hijacked it for you all. It’s a perfect summer or fall meal and easy to prepare. Plus, the leftover turkey makes marvelous sandwiches.

Turkey Breast on the Grill
Baked Potatoes on the Grill
Sautéed Broccoli
White Wine – Riesling

Turkey Breast on the Grill

1 leek – chopped
1 large onion – chopped
10 baby carrots – chopped
3 tomatoes – chopped
Turkey Breast
Bacon strips to cover breast
Chicken stock

Disposable pan
Cooking rack
Cookie sheet – for stability and to prevent pan from burning

Thaw turkey breast in refrigerator for at least one day. Dispose of packet inserted in breast. If not completely thawed, set in a large pot of cold water to complete. Rinse well.

This method is for a gas grill. Preheat grill, both burners, on medium for 15 minutes. Total cooking time is 2 to 3 hours.

Set disposable pan on cookies sheet. Insert cooking rack. Add chopped vegetables. Pat turkey skin dry then place on rack breast up. Lay bacon slices over breast to cover well. Pour in enough chicken broth to cover the pan bottom at least 1 inch. Cover the turkey and pan edges with aluminum foil, crimping the sides well.

Place pan in the middle of the grill. Close lid.

Check the liquid level every hour of roasting. Add water as needed.

Remove foil after 1 ½ hours to allow turkey to brown a bit.

Remove from heat when done. Allow to rest 15 minutes before carving.

Baked Potatoes on the Grill
1 russet potato per person
Olive oil
Aluminum foil
Butter
Sour cream
Chives
Pepper

Wash and dry the potatoes. Rub a little olive oil over each potato to moisten the skin. Rip off aluminum foil square large enough to wrap each potato separately.

Place potatoes on upper shelf of grill or, if you have enough space, alongside the turkey pan. Grill for 45 minutes to 1 hour. Test if done by poking a potato with a toothpick. It should insert easily.

To serve, remove foil, slit potatoes open, press the sides together to allow potato to mound. Top with the butter, sour cream, chives, and pepper.

Sautéed Broccoli
1 fresh broccoli
3 tbsp. olive oil
2 tbsp. butter
1 glove garlic pressed
¼ cup Parmesan cheese

Cut broccoli segments from the stem. Discard stem.

Preheat a frying pan over medium heat. Pour in olive oil, then add butter. When the foam subsides, add the broccoli pieces, turning them to coat well with the oil and butter. You may need a little more oil. Be careful not to add too much.

Add the pressed garlic over the top of the broccoli. Sauté until just tender, about 6 minutes.

Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and serve.

Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and serve.

~~~~~

Only 21 short days until those Naughty Ladies of Nice are back on the net strutting their stuff. The gals have new covers along with expanded stories. Doni, Lisette, and Claudette are excited to meet you on September 22. Here’s a sneak peek at Book One in the series.

Bon Appétit…
Satisfy all your cravings at cooking school.

Determined to prove herself and shed her party girl image, Donatienne Dubois pins her hopes on the exclusive cooking school in Nice, France. One by one her expectations are shattered by a foul-mouthed parrot, a bogus Michelin chef, and a headmistress with a heart of tungsten steel. Doni’s lifesaver is a bad boy hunk too hot not to handle.

Mark Anderson is incognito and hating every minute. To pose as a student while keeping tabs on a rich wild child is his version of hell, until he partners with the dish of Crème Brule good enough to eat.

Class takes on a whole new meaning as Doni and Mark heat up the kitchen when they discover honey has better uses than sweetening tea.

NFL Needs Some Good News

August 31, 2015 | Author Friend Promo

by Anne Montgomery

The NFL has a perception problem. Domestic abuse, child abuse, cheating. Understandably, our most popular and lucrative team spectator sport is trying to rid itself of a host of bad press, much of which has threatened to alienate close to half the league’s fans.

It may come as a shock to some football buffs, but about 45% of the NFL’s fan base is female. Women spend roughly 1.5 billion dollars annually on team memorabilia, half the league’s total sales. The NFL’s market value is listed at 45 billion dollars, equal almost to Starbucks. Now imagine if the company that provides your morning latte disregarded half its clientele.

Those at the helm of the NFL understand they have a PR problem and have scrambled in an effort to eradicate the idea that they regard women as second-class citizens. Last September, the league hired four women, who, according to Commissioner Roger Goodell, will work “on the development and implementation of the league’s policies, resources and outreach on issues of domestic violence and sexual assault.” Admittedly, a good start, assuming the group actually has any real power.

Then the NFL hired a female official. Sarah Thomas will take the field this season, the first woman to don stripes and toss a yellow flag for the league. Also a positive step, though it’s easy to question the timing of this hire. Clearly, the NFL could have put a woman in the officiating ranks earlier, but why quibble.

Now, the Arizona Cardinals have announced that they have “hired” a woman to coach the team’s linebackers. Media outlets blared the information with almost giddy abandon. One had to go fairly deep into most news articles to discover that Dr. Jen Welter, who holds a master’s degree in sports psychology and a Ph.D. in psychology, is, in fact, an intern with the team, which by definition means “a student or trainee who works, sometimes without pay, at a trade or occupation in order to gain work experience.” (Imagine, holding a Ph.D. and being asked to intern.) Welter has played and coached in women’s leagues, still, at this time, she is not projected to be working with the Cardinals come kickoff on opening day of the regular season.

While the Cardinals appear to have independently come up with the idea of bringing Welter on board, one can’t help but wonder if NFL executives – read the Commissioner’s office – didn’t send down some double top-secret directive to all teams: Find a place for women now!

In the interest of full disclosure, I have been an NFL fan for most of my life. Despite the league’s foibles, there’s probably little they can do to drive me away from my TV come Sunday. Still the NFL would be wise to consider the concerns of all of its fans, lest it drop that golden egg and no longer find itself listed as the highest-grossing sport league in the world.

Now, if we could just get them to do something about those cheerleaders.

Anne Montgomery was interviewed by Fox News. Click here to read or watch what Anne had to say.

Not only is Anne Montgomery a sports aficionado, she is also a passionate author. Here is a little from her latest mystery.

A Light in the Desert traces the story of a pregnant teenager who bears an odd facial deformity, a Vietnam veteran and former Special Forces sniper who, as he descends into the throes of mental illness, latches onto the girl, and a group of Pentecostal zealots – the Children of Light – who have been waiting over thirty years in the Arizona desert for Armageddon.

The Amtrak Sunset Limited, a passenger train en route to Los Angeles, is derailed in their midst’s, a deadly act of sabotage. Their lives are thrown into turmoil when local and state police, FBI investigators, and a horde of reporters make camp by the twisted wreckage of the Sunset Limited. As the search for the saboteurs continues, the authorities find more questions than answers. The girl mysteriously vanishes, the assassin struggles to maintain his sanity, and a child is about to be born in the wilderness.

To read more from A Light in the Desert please click a vendor’s name:
Sarah Book Publishing – Amazon – Barnes & Noble

Anne Montgomery has worked as a television sportscaster, newspaper and magazine writer, teacher, amateur baseball umpire, and high school football referee. She worked at WRBL‐TV in Columbus, Georgia, WROC‐TV in Rochester, New York, KTSP‐TV in Phoenix, Arizona, ESPN in Bristol, Connecticut, where she anchored the Emmy and ACE award‐winning SportsCenter, and ASPN-TV as the studio host for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns. Montgomery has been a freelance and staff writer for six publications, writing sports, features, movie reviews, and archeological pieces.

When she can, Anne indulges in her passions: rock collecting, scuba diving, football refereeing, and playing her guitar.

Learn more about Anne Montgomery on Wikipedia. Stay connected on Facebook, Linkedin, and Twitter.

Breakfast is Ready!

August 26, 2015 | Author Friend Promo, Cooking

Multi-published and multi-genre author Vonnie Hughes steps away from her keyboard to bring us a delicious dish that works for breakfast and for lunch. The kitchen is all yours, Vonnie!

Broccoli Frittata
2 cups broccoli florets
4 eggs (yeah, I know. 4!! But that’s the way to make it work)
1 cup milk
1 packet of thick vegetable soup (Maggi or whatever brand)
1/3 cup grated tasty cheese

Preheat oven to 180°C or 350°F

Put broccoli into a greased quiche dish or even a shallow ovenproof dish.

Beat eggs with the milk and soup mix. Pour over the broccoli.

Sprinkle the cheese on top.

Bake for 40 minutes.

Serves 4

How about pouring yourself an after breakfast mimosa and then curl up with my latest romantic suspense?

Who can you trust if you can’t trust your own mother? Through the clammy fog, Celie Francis hears the chilling message. “I know who you are, Celie. I know where you live.” And in the terrifying aftermath she reconnects with her dysfunctional family in ways she had never imagined.

BLURB:
Abused and abandoned as a child, Célie Francis knows better than to trust anyone. But after she witnesses a murder, she’s placed in the Unit “New Zealand’s witness protection program” where she’s expected to trust strangers with her life.

It’s psychologist Brand Turner’s job to ease witnesses into their new identities, not to protect them, but Célie stirs feelings in him that are far from professional. When it appears someone is leaking critical information that could endanger Célie, Brand will do anything to protect her. But first he has to convince her to trust him.

Adrift in a frightening world, Célie would like to believe the handsome psychologist is everything he seems, but as witnesses are murdered and danger swirls around them, Célie must decide “can she trust Brand with her life?　

Please click a vendor’s name to read more from Lethal Refuge The Wild Rose Press and Amazon.

Vonnie Hughes is a multi-published author in both Regency books and contemporary suspense. She loves the intricacies of the social rules of the Regency period and the far-ranging consequences of the Napoleonic Code. And with suspense she has free rein to explore forensic matters and the strong convolutions of the human mind. Like many writers, some days she hates the whole process, but somehow she just cannot let it go.

Vonnie was born in New Zealand, but she and her husband now live happily in Australia. If you visit Hamilton Gardens in New Zealand be sure to stroll through the Japanese Garden. These is a bronze plaque engraved with a haiku describing the peacefulness of that environment. The poem was written by Vonnie.

Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

August 24, 2015 | Author Friend Promo

by Emma Lane

Gardens grow of their own volition. You labor with the lay out and lovingly place the plants. By the third year, your garden has selected what it will and will not accept. But it’s gorgeous, healthy and you wouldn’t change a single thing. (Okay, maybe you’ll move that fragrant dianthus in front of that balloon flower which is taller.) Some of it is your fault because you couldn’t resist that church sale and your neighbor shared several perennials. Status normal. Allow your garden nostalgia. You show it off by saying, “I got that one for next to nothing on sale, Susan Smith gave me that one when she moved to Florida, I miss her so! My mother-in-law finally broke down and shared that rose. Would you believe how she can make cuttings and root them?” This iris came from … and that one came from…

SEASONAL: Do plan spring shrubs/bulbs which are so welcome. Fall red/yellow leaves.

INVASIVE: When someone mentions the plant is invasive, believe it! I love the golden blooms of Rudbeckia Goldstrum, but it will take over if given the chance. Plant it way over there where you can mow it if need be; same with any sort of mint.

PARTNERSHIPS: Delphenium back up to fences almost poetically, a partnership. Peonies are almost small bushes. I love to make a back ground hedge row from them. Yellow coreopsis and red yarrow are made in heaven for hot colors.

FRIENDSHIP: The deer, rabbits, groundhog, the neighbor’s pets, etc have destroyed some of your hard work? This is your opportunity to share and discover new friends. What better way to become acquainted? You’ll learn to laugh and maybe learn new gardening secrets while you commiserate.

Now that your garden is all you want it to be, take a good book and relax in all that beauty. May I suggest my new release?

Can an arrogant duke overcome his prejudice against a beautiful but managing female in time to find true love and happiness?

Miss Amabel Hawkins acknowledges her unusual upbringing, but she thinks James Langley, the Duke of Westerton, might be a tad unbalanced when he protests her efforts to right his badly managed properties. The duke, who has been away on the king’s business, demonstrates no respect for the beautiful but managing Miss Hawkins. Amabel has taken refuge at Westerton, fleeing from a forced marriage to a man who claims to be her relative in order to gain control of her young brother’s estate.

The Duke arrives home to find his estate under the firm control of a beautiful but managing female. His suspicions are fueled by his recent task of spy-hunting and he wonders if Amabel Hawkins is just who she seems. While a dastardly spy lurks, a wicked man poses as her cousin threatening to take over the guardianship of her young brother. Amabel might be falling in love, but she knows for certain the duke would never approve of a meddlesome woman, and she decides to flee his estate. Will the duke finally realize the true value of the woman he loves or will his prejudice ruin his chances forever?

EXCERPT
Fatigue and the effects of the brandy on top of the ale now gave his gait a distinct wobble. He chuckled, amused at his condition.

As he reached for the portrait of great Uncle Barney, he lurched into the back of the red leather sofa in front of the cosy fire. “Deuce take it,” he exclaimed when a rounded arm rolled into view. He spotted the gentle curve of a hip and walked around to the front, where he spied a tumbled haze of dark curls hiding a face. It is indeed a female—a sleeping female.

Who was she? The gown was too rich for his household staff. Curious, he knelt beside the sofa.
“Only one way to find out,” he whispered and moved one dark curl. He sat back, satisfied when a handsome face swam into view. She sighed and rolled over, revealing a generous figure and a pair of rosy lips. She might be Sleeping Beauty—but not one of my relatives. He leaned over and kissed those tempting lips.

As he lingered there, she sighed and came partially awake. He could not resist. He deepened the kiss and sounds of satisfaction like yum and umm came from those delicious lips. Her hand stroked his face, then reached around his head to pull him closer. Delighted with this turn of events, the Duke of Westerton complied enthusiastically and extended an arm around a slender waist. How much of the ale and brandy had he imbibed? Dizziness overcame his senses as he slid down on the floor and knew no more.

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Emma Lane is a gifted author who writes under several pen-names. She lives with her patient husband on several acres outside a typical American village in Western New York. Her day job is working with flowers at her son’s plant nursery. Look for information about writing and plants on her new website. Leave a comment or a gardening question and put a smile on Emma’s face.

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