As American as Apple Pie

is the hero of my erotic short story French Twist. Don Hobbs knows exactly what he likes in the bedroom as well as the kitchen. This Chicago born and bred man is a true lover of fried chicken. The lady in his life, Claudette D’Laquois, has no clue how to turn on a stove, let alone fry this scrumptious dish. But what can you expect from an Interpol agent? To make Claudette's life easier, I gave her the recipe so she can keep her man happy while he oversees an orchard in Nice, France.

Sloane’s Down-home Fried Chicken

1 tbsp. salt
Tap water
6 chicken legs, or thighs or 4 breasts, skinless and boneless
1 cup flour
1tsp. thyme
½ tsp. marjoram
Freshly ground pepper to taste
1 large egg
1½ tbsp. milk
½ cup solid shortening or lard, plus more as needed

Dissolve salt in a small amount of water. Add chicken pieces then cover with more water. Set this in the refrigerator for 4-6 hours.

Remove chicken from fridge 2 hours before you plan to cook. Drain and pat dry.

Combine flour and seasonings in a paper or plastic bag. Shake gently to combine ingredients. Mix egg and milk in a bowl. Set a clean plate or platter on the counter to hold the breaded chicken.

Place one chicken piece at a time in the bag, shake gently to thoroughly coat, then dip in egg mixture, then return the piece to the bag and gently shake again. Set chicken on the plate. Repeat the process until all pieces are coated. Set the uncovered plate in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.

Heat the shortening in a large frying pan over medium-high heat. Test to be sure shortening is hot enough by adding a small piece of bread. It should sizzle and toast quickly.

Carefully add the chicken pieces. Maintain the temperature, but adjust it so chicken doesn’t burn and grease doesn’t splatter everywhere.

Turning frequently, brown the chicken on all sides. Cover and cook 20-25 minutes or until juices run clear when pierced with a sharp knife.

Lay pieces on a plate lined with paper towels to absorb any oil. Transfer them to a clean platter and serve.

Here's a brief intro to Book Three of the Naughty Ladies of Nice series with Don and Claudette.

Spies and lies bring a deadly twist to the City of Lights.

Interpol agent Claudette D’Laquois is trapped in the hellhole of life and unable to trust anyone. Desperate to regain control, she flees to the safety of her uncle’s rundown chateau on the French Riviera. But Claudette soon learns the countryside has its own dangers when she finds herself alone with a sexy foreigner.

Uptight accountant Donald Hobbs ditches numbers for dirt to oversee his friend’s orchard for three weeks. His well deserved vacation is perfect until a seductive mademoiselle drags him into a dangerous world of intrigue and erotic fantasy.

Illegal drugs and Russian mobsters take a back seat to a lethal night of sinful pleasure for Claudette and Don.

EXCERPT

Nothing like an afternoon of hot sex to keep this guy happy.

Don followed Claudette down the hallway. He scanned her shoulders and down to her narrow waist and clenched his fists until the knuckles almost popped. His gaze dropped to her shapely hips that flared over her long legs. Legs that went on forever. He worked his way back up to her firm ass, mesmerized by the little swing it did as she nonchalantly strolled ahead of him. The rose dangled over her shoulder, luring him like a horse to the carrot, and he was eager to chase after it.

Walking right then wasn’t the easiest thing, but he managed. Her tapered legs in those sexy heels strapped around her slender ankles were the added bonus to keep him moving.

She stopped at her open bedroom door and glanced over her shoulder. Her long auburn hair shimmered with the movement.

Jesus, she was beautiful.

“Mon cher, do not be shy.” Her voice dropped a couple of octaves. “I am not.”

Obviously, and he loved it.

He followed her to the bed while fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. She bent and laid the rose on the nightstand, exposing her wet pussy. His cock jackknifed. He swallowed hard and prayed he didn’t come before he finally got to touch her.

“You look as if you need help.” Her soft voice came out low, like a woman who’d been making love for hours.

She turned and reached for his belt. Her large breasts jiggled with the movement and erased his control.

He stretched out a hand for her, but she eluded him and dropped to her knees before he could touch her rosy nipples. An herbal aroma drifted up to him as her hair flowed across her breasts. He scooped it out of the way. The need to watch her every movement overwhelmed him.

His zipper rasped open. Don forced himself to breathe. His swollen cock leapt out of his shorts, grazing her moist mouth.

“I like a man who is eager.”

Her warm breath tingled against his swollen head.

He closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer she followed through on what he hoped she had in mind.

She swiped her pink tongue across her lips, moistening their soft surface. His body tensed. A soft puff of air caressed his crown, then she bathed the length of his cock from root to tip. She nibbled at the sensitive underside of the cap long enough to buckle his knees.

He wove his fingers through her silky hair and gritted his teeth as she clamped one hand onto his ass and gently dragged the fingernails of her other against his tight balls. The sweet pleasure was almost unbearable.

Jesus, he needed to regain some form of control over his body before he embarrassed himself. He counted twelve breaths, held them, then started again. When that failed, he mentally recited accounting tables. Christ, he’d do anything to save face and not come.

She swirled her tongue across the tip of his dick, her lips nipping at the engorged ridge. It was too much for any man to tolerate. The first rush of heat charged up his cock. He cried out, pumping into her hot wet mouth.

“Stop, baby. I can’t keep this up.” After a few deep, ragged breaths, he ground out, “This isn’t fair to you.”

Claudette sucked him in deeper. Her face buried in his pubic hairs. A new earthquake of need erupted in him when a hum from low in her throat vibrated against his dripping cock.

“Fucksakes, baby.” He took her shoulders and regretfully pulled her off with a pop. “I need to come, but I want to satisfy you. We have to move to the bed.” He hooked a shaky thumb over his shoulder.

She glanced up, her cheeks flushed.

“Oui, mon cher, you have all the good ideas today.”

Don doubted that, but he could competently return the teasing and drive her into a serious frenzy.

He held out his hand, wrapped it around hers, and pulled her into his arms. She was warm and yielding and sexy as hell. He cupped her chin and raised it toward his mouth...

BUY LINKS

Amazon
ARe
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords

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

Top Ten Reasons to Vacation at Wiccan Haus

by Sara Daniel

1. It’s a healing spa for every ailment. Take a bullet to the knee? We’ll fix you up. Lose your memory? We’ll help you recover it. Got issues with your family? We’ll help you deal with your emotional difficulties. People think you’re going crazy? We don’t, and we’ll help you unravel the truth.

2. No electronics. Time to unplug! Your cellphone won’t work. You won’t get barraged with social media updates from people venting about their awful lives or bragging about their nauseatingly perfect lives. Even better, your boss can’t contact you about that office “emergency” no one else wants to tackle.

3. You get a whole week to relax. One ferry boat a week takes guests to and from the island. You won’t be leaving early or pretending a weekend getaway is all the vacation you need. You’ll have a whole week to truly relax.

4. No crowds! No lines! That ferry boat only takes 12 guests per week, with another 12 arriving through a magical portal from the paranormal world. That’s it, just 24 guests getting some very personalized attention.

5. The Wiccan Haus is magical. Yeah, the brochure might say the island is off the coast of Maine, but you’re not going to find it on your own. I’m guessing it’s part of a paranormal world, but they’re not confirming or denying my suspicions.

6. The owners get involved in helping you make most of your stay. Talk about personalized attention. At least one of the four siblings who run the resort will help you make the most of your stay—maybe all four of them. Now that’s service!

7. They have yoga, meditation and other classes that you always meant to try but never quite got around to. Admit it: You know that practicing deep breathing would be good for your blood pressure and probably your scattered brain too, but you never have time to actually do it, just like you never had time to try the King Pigeon or Camel yoga poses that the too-perky barista at the coffee shop swears by. Now you can.

8. They have exotic plants that scientifically shouldn’t exist. The orchard has apple tree with blossoms, unripe fruit, and ripe, ready-to-eat fruit all on the same tree. All at once. All the time. And you can help yourself to an apple straight from the tree. Simply paradise.

9. You could meet someone with paranormal abilities. Those guests who came through the magical portal might be shifters, vampires, psychics, truth-finders, lamias, or something else you’ve never heard of. They’re coming to the Wiccan Haus to heal and relax just like you, and you’ll see them when you all gather together in the dining room for dinner.

10. Another guest might end up being the love of your life. Maybe the person is a paranormal, or maybe he/she a human, but every story from the Wiccan Haus ends with true love and a happily-ever-after. It truly is magical!

Here is a little Wicaan Haus teaser from my latest release.

Psychic Lies

What if you could read minds during sex? What if the government wanted to exploit you for your ability?

Fiona Vetter has spent her life hiding her sexual mind-reading power, pretending to have normal, safe powers like the rest of her family. When her charade results in the death of an innocent woman, her life of lies unravels. With nowhere else to turn, she retreats to the Wiccan Haus.

To expose her as an enemy of his government, Armando Verdad follows Fiona to the Wiccan Haus. Her beauty dazzles him, her personality seduces him, and her web of lies intrigues him. But with his career and the safety of his countrymen on the line, only the truth matters.

The harder Fiona tries to keep Armando away, the more she falls for him. When enemies come searching for her, she is forced to trust him to protect her life and her psychic lies, but nothing can protect her heart.

EXCERPT
Fiona dropped her fork. How could her soul have picked him for her mate? The Fates played cruel jokes, and, once again, they did so at her expense. “The vetter was trying her best.”

“Her best to do what?” He gripped her arm a bit tighter.

“To be a vetter.” By the Goddess, she’d tried so hard. Her failure had cost an innocent woman her life.

He rubbed his hand along her arm, his face breaking into a smile again. “You know, I believe you’re right.”

A fat lot of good that did for Lizbet. She dropped her gaze to his hand. “Why are you always touching me?” She didn’t know him well enough to warrant the constant contact, but pleasure sizzled under her skin at his touch. She didn’t deserve to enjoy anything.

He smiled wider. “I can’t stop myself. You feel the connection, don’t you?”

She couldn’t have a connection to a man who scorned people who didn’t use their powers for the greater good, not when she’d built the foundation of her life on denying her true powers. “I’m actually not a tactile person.”

After speaking such a big lie, she couldn’t continue to look him in the eye, not with all her powers concentrated in the most intimate tactile experience possible.

His grin split wider. “I’d love the chance to prove you wrong.”

And when he did, she’d know his thoughts. She’d know how much he despised the woman who claimed to be a vetter and allowed the commander’s beloved daughter to lifebond with a man who would murder her. Fiona had come to the Wiccan Haus to get away from the public’s hatred and scorn, not see it behind Armando’s beautiful smile and feel it no matter how warm and gentle his hands.

She shoved away from the table and ran for the exit.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I meant it as a compliment,” he called after her.

The dining room quieted around her. Everyone stared. Once again, she drew the bad kind of attention. But she couldn’t stop.

Despite her desire to be a simple vetter, without real vetting powers that life could only be a lie. The truth, however, was far worse than a life of lies.

Amazon
All Romance eBooks
Google Play
iTunes
Kobo

Sara Daniel writes what she loves to read—irresistible romance, from sweet to erotic and everything in between. She battles a serious NASCAR addiction, was once a landlord of two uninvited squirrels, and loses her car keys several times a day.

Learn more about Sara on her website and blog. Subscribe to Sara’s newsletter.

Stay connected on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

From Tree to Table

Paul D’Laquois, the sexy hero in my erotic short story French Delight, dedicates his life to science and the well-being of man. He understands the need for a greater food supply at reasonable prices and struggles to solve the problem by developing a tasty fruit. Lisette Hugo, the soon-to-be-love of Paul's life, stands by her man and supports him in all his endeavors. But she's no pushover. Lisette requested I send her my homemade applesauce recipe to tide them over in the fruit department until Paul perfects his orchard. I thought I'd share this easy dish with you, too.

Homemade Applesauce
6 lg apples cored, peeled, and coarsely sliced*
1 cup sugar
4 tbsp. water
2 tbsp. lemon juice
1½ tbsp. soft butter

Combine all ingredients except butter in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce heat, cover pot, and simmer 15 – 20 minutes or until apples mash easily with a fork.

Stir in the butter.

Mash with a potato masher. For a smoother texture pour the sauce into a blender or food processor and puree for a minute or so.

Turn into a serving bowl, cover, and refrigerate until ready to serve. This recipe also freezes well.

*Mix it up with a variety of apples to improve the flavor.

Now as for Paul and Lisette, here's a peek into their story.

Fantasy blooms alongside the flora in a garden of wicked delight.

Science is Paul’s life. Close to a major breakthrough, all he wants is to be left alone with his trees and not be forced to entertain a corporate suit. That is until the suit arrives in a sexy sundress. Now all Paul can think about is experimenting on her.

Lisette is less than thrilled to spend a month at a moldering chateau on the French Riviera with only some dried up old scientist for company. However the hot man in dirty jeans tending his scraggly trees proves more of a garden fantasy than the nerd in a lab coat.

Sex and science create a volatile formula resulting in total delight.



EXCERPT
Paul looked at her. A deep, solemn stare. Time froze and all oxygen zapped from her brain.

It took all her energy to compel her brain back into business mode.

“Now let me get those papers for you.” She reluctantly moved away from him to search for her briefcase.

He caught her up in his arms, studying her. Was he searching for permission? She looped an arm around his neck while her other hand rode down his narrow hip, and lower to his firm butt.

He massaged her spine and electric charges shot to the tips of her puckered nipples. The combined aromas of sweet honey and tart wine mingled between them when he opened his mouth and licked his lips.

She closed her eyes and stretched up to taste him.

His lips barely touched hers. The light, tender kiss set her on fire. Not enough. Not near enough. She stepped closer, needing to feel all of him against her. His body heat radiated through his clothes, warming her sensitive places, and a shiver skittered through her. His hard cock pushed against her mons and she inched closer on trembling legs.

He glided his fingertips down her cheek, tracing along her jawbone, before continuing his seductive exploration to her throat. He spread his long fingers and circled her hot skin while his thumb caressed the long column. Dieu, how she loved to have her throat stroked while making love. She tipped her head back, allowing him full access. He lowered his head, his late-night beard scraping against her hot skin, electrifying her. Murmured words blended with equally soft moans as he nipped down to the pulsating hollow at the base of her throat.

A burning trail singed her flesh, following the path of his hand to her décolleté. His gentle touch triggered a whirlwind of sensations that rocked her body. She had never been so alive, so in need of a man.

Her nipples ached to be suckled. Moisture gathered in her throbbing vagina and pooled in her thong. The need to feel him stroke inside her, to ease the incredible pressure between her thighs, forced her to rock against his swollen dick.

She licked his lips before deepening their kiss. He glided her robe down one shoulder. She lowered her arm and the satiny fabric slid off her wrist.

He kissed the corner of her mouth, his hand continuing down her body until he cupped her breast. He gently squeezed her nipple between his thumb and index finger. With each pinch, she bucked against him. The sweet pressure carried her to a new plateau. Her moans filled the room as he rubbed the aching peak against the soft material of his shirt.

Sheer. Delicious. Torture.

She dropped her other arm and the robe parted, allowing the thin cloth to puddle onto the floor.

He slid his finger between her butt cheeks, gliding beneath the silk band of her thong until he reached her asshole. With slow circling motions, he drew her into another realm of intense desire.
Her legs gave out.

He caught her in his arms and lifted her charged body as if she were a feather. After a languid kiss, he set her onto the kitchen table. She lay back, grateful for the support while he raised her legs, then anchored her bare feet against the tabletop…

BUY LINKS

Amazon
ARe
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords

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

Those Naughty Ladies are Back and Having Fun

Naughty Ladies of Nice Series, Books 1,2 & 3 Relaunch

by Sloane Taylor

Erotic Romance

Re-Release Date: September 22, 2015

French Tart (Naughty Ladies of Nice Book 1)

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.

Amazon - BN - Smashwords - All Romance

French Delight (Naughty Ladies of Nice Book 2)

Fantasy blooms in a garden of wicked delight.

Science is Paul’s life. Close to a major breakthrough, all he wants is to be left alone with his trees and not be forced to entertain a corporate suit. That is until the suit arrives in a sexy sundress. Now all Paul thinks about is experimenting on her.

Lisette is less than thrilled to spend a month at a moldering chateau on the French Riviera with some dried up old scientist for company. However the hot man in dirty jeans tending his scraggly trees proves more of a garden fantasy than the nerd in a lab coat.

Sex and science create a volatile formula resulting in total delight.

Amazon - BN - Smashwords - All Romance

French Twist (Naughty Ladies of Nice Book 3)

Spies and lies bring a deadly twist to the City of Lights.

Interpol agent Claudette D’Laquois is trapped in the hellhole of life and unable to trust anyone. Desperate to regain control, she flees to the safety of her uncle’s rundown chateau on the French Riviera. But Claudette soon learns the countryside has its own dangers when she finds herself alone with a sexy foreigner.

Uptight accountant Donald Hobbs ditches numbers for dirt to oversee his friend’s orchard for three weeks. His well deserved vacation is perfect until a seductive mademoiselle drags him into a dangerous world of intrigue and erotic fantasy.

Illegal drugs and Russian mobsters take a back seat to a lethal night of sinful pleasure for Claudette and Don.

Amazon - BN - Smashwords - All Romance

Coming Soon

French Kiss (Naughty Ladies of Nice Book 4), October 13, 2015 
PREORDER NOW

French Tickler (Naughty Ladies of Nice Book 5), November 10, 22015 
PREORDER NOW

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, Google+, and Amazon.

French Omelette American Style

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
ARe
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords

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 me on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+.

Happy reading!
Sloane

THE WILD LIFE

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
Amazon
CreateSpace

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

Photo by Boaz Yiftach

The Taylor Family

Wishes you and yours

a

Healthy and Prosperous

New Year!

SOMETHING SMELLS GOOD

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.

Photo by kornnphoto

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.

Read excerpts from all of the books written by Chris Pavesic on Amazon.

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

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

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.

~~~~~

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.