HAPPY DANCING
Aren’t you lucky this isn’t a video? I do dance a lot, but it’s not something most people want to see.
I’m thrilled to announce that ONE STORMY NIGHT, the first book in the Calloway series from Silhouette Romantic Suspense, has finaled in the Sensual Contemporary Category of the More Than Magic contest.
And I’m in great company: BF Susan Shay finaled in First Book; wonderfully talented Jaci Burton is there in Erotica; the great Red Hen, Jackie King, made it in the Novella category; and my alter ego, Rach, is in the Romantic Suspense category.
A full list of the finalists:
2008 More Than Magic Finalists
*in no particular order*
Erotica:
· Trouble by Sasha White
· Wild, Wicked & Wanton by Jaci Burton
· Skin by Karin Tabke
· Blood Red by Sharon Page
First Book:
· To School A Cowboy by Susan Shay
· The Man for Maggie by Lee McKenzie McAnally
· A Wish in Time by Laurel Bradley
· Dark Rider by Kathryn Dennis
· The Education of Mrs. Brimley by Donna MacMeans
Historical:
· His Captive by Diana Cosby
· One Real Cowboy by Janette Kenny
· The Accidental Mistress by Tracy Anne Warren
· His Favorite Mistress by Tracy Anne Warren
Novella:
· Dark Awakening in Shards of Crimson by Patti O’Shea
· Secret Santa in Christmas Presence by Lisa Childs
· The Spinster, the Pig & the Orphan in Foxy Statehood Hens and Murder Most Fowl by Jacqueline King
Paranormal:
· Atlantis Awakening by Alyssa Day
· Atlantis Rising by Alyssa Day
· Betrayed by Jamie Leigh Hansen
· Lady of Light and Shadows by C. L. Wilson
Romantic Comedy:
· Borrowing Alex by Cindy Procter-King
· Over Hexed by Vicki Lewis Thompson
· The Quest for the Holy Veil by Kimberly Llewellyn
Romantic Suspense:
· Scorched by Rachel Butler
· Salvation, Texas by Anna Jeffrey
· The Perfect Stranger by Jenna Mills
· Love, Lies, and a Double Shot of Deception by Lois Winston
Sensual Contemporary:
· The Rancher Needs a Wife by Terry McLaughlin
· The Other Sister by Lynda Sandovol
· Déjà You by Lynda Sandovol
· One Stormy Night by Marilyn Pappano
Single Title:
· Anatomy of a Boyfriend by Daria Snadowsky
· Sweet Return by Anna Jeffrey
· Really Something by Shirley Jump
Sweet Contemporary:
· Remembered by Tamera Alexander
· The Man for Maggie by Lee McKenzie McAnally
· The Doctor’s Pregnancy Bombshell by Janice Lynn
Congratulations and good luck to everyone!!
May 5, 2008
Starting anew
Starting a new book can be an exciting thing: new characters, a new story, all sorts of possibilities.
And it can be a major pain, too: new characters, a new story, all sorts of possibilities.
I’m in that position now. Tommy and Ellie, #5 in the Calloway series, have their happily-ever-after, and it’s time to start looking at the next story. I’ve had an idea in mind for a month or so now — in fact, I’ve written the first ten pages.
The problems are, though, that I don’t KNOW these characters, so I’ve got to find out what makes them tick; I’m not really sure where they’re going; and there are so many options that I’m a tad overwhelmed by them all. For example, I’m not TOTALLY sure that the hero is actually the hero; there’s this other guy who just might be a better fit for my heroine than him, but I don’t know that for sure, because there’s some incredible chemistry between the hero and my heroine in the beginning.
Sometimes I have to write pages to figure things out. If I can get Chapter 1 to flow, then I know I’m on the right track. On occasions, that comes pretty quickly, but other times it can take ten or fifteen tries to get the right one. That’s usually when I start working out the plot. At this stage, I just have a vague idea of where I want to go; after Chapter 1, then I work out the details.
But it’s a wonderful feeling when it does all click — almost as wonderful as when I write the last pages. At the moment of the “click,” I know pretty much all I need to know (for that moment, at least) about the characters, their hopes, their motivations, their conflicts, their plot, and their happy ending. I may not know now they’re going to achieve that happy ending, but that’s part of the fun of writing.
Now I’m trading my computer for a notebook and ink pen — my favorite way of plotting and getting acquainted with my hero and heroine. Hopefully, one of these guys will hold up his hand and tell me beyond a doubt that he IS the heroine so I can get to serious work.
After all, I’d hate to pair her up with the wrong guy!
May 2, 2008
Catch-Up
The book is done, the book is done!
I’m still getting the hang of this 1/3-shorter format at Silhouette Romantic Suspense, but Tommy and Ellie’s story (#5 in the Calloway series) is done and winging its way to New York. Whew! With each book, it seems I run into a different kind of problem — getting all the mystery threads in too-few words, not rushing the resolution because I’m running out of words, making sure I’ve used every word judiciously because I’m not allowed enough of them . . . (Gee, see a theme running here?)
This time the problem was where to have the first love scene. It sounds really weird, but after I’ve written a couple chapters of a book, I tend to kick back, close my eyes and let the story run through my head to see where the first love scene takes place. It may be as early as Chapter 3 (heck, in PASSION, I think it was Chapter 1), or it may be as late as the last chapter. (In DISCOVERED: DADDY, the only love scene was beginning on the very last pages of the book.)
On this one, I just didn’t know where to put it. Every time I thought was the right time, it fizzled out because I was wrong. I FINALLY got it in, though, and I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out.
Now it’s time to start writing the next book.
But first . . . my daughter-in-law and grandbaby are here for a visit, and we’ve had a great time. I can’t believe how much he’s grown since they were here in January. He’s got two teeth (if you try to pull his lip down to see them, he covers them with his tongue, and if you slide your finger in his mouth to feel them, he bites — gee, can’t blame him).
He’s the nosiest — uh, most curious baby I’ve ever known. He loves attention. I think half the diners at Olive Garden, including a lovely girl from Owasso with her prom date, stopped to talk with him or flirt back. He watches people with such a serious look on his face; when they notice him, his smile starts out hesitant and shy, until they smile back, and then he gets this huge bright smile that’s adorable.
And of course I have pictures!
April 25, 2008
The Grandbaby and Ron’s
Ron’s is a hamburger chain in this part of Oklahoma (and some parts of Texas, too) that makes incredibly good, greasy burgers and Spanish fries (onions and jalapenos are fried with the potatoes). The Big Daddy used to be my favorite guilty pleasure back in the day before I lost weight; now just the regular burger is enough to send me to Burger Heaven.
Anyway, when DIL and grandson were here in January, we went to lunch at Ron’s, so I had to commemorate his first visit there. You’ll notice he’s not looking too thrilled. Why should he? He could smell the fabulous burgers we were eating, and all he had was a pacifier.
I’m looking forward to the day we get to see him nibble his first Ron’s. I’m sure he’ll love ‘em just like Grandma and Granddaddy do!
April 21, 2008
Lemon Cream Cake Success
Last night was my niece’s birthday dinner. I provided the meal, but it was at my sister’s house. She lives in a central location for all of us, plus she doesn’t have six puppers who get amazingly vocal when there are strangers in the house. (She does have one dog, but Patty’s very well behaved. I don’t think she made a sound the whole evening.)
I did some of the cooking and all of the prep work ahead of time. I had asked my niece her preferences a while back (while we were at Olive Garden), and she asked for pasta fagiole, jambalaya, and lemon cream cake like OG’s. And I said sure.
I’m pretty good with the first two, but I don’t think I’ve ever even seen the lemon cream cake at OG. I certainly hadn’t ever tasted it. So I went online to track down clone recipes. I found several, but they fell into one of two categories: using cream cheese and lemon juice for the filling, and using lemon pie filling for the filling. Big difference, huh?
Because I love all things cream cheesy, I went with that version. Wow! It was very, very good (at least the filling/frosting and the butter/flour/sugar crumb topping — I didn’t eat hardly any of the cake).
It definitely goes into the “keeper” recipe collection.
April 13, 2008
KATHLEEN CREIGHTON’S SENDING DANGER SIGNALS!
Today on my blog I’m featuring Kathleen Creighton and her newest romantic suspense, DANGER SIGNALS. Kathleen and I are . . . hm, I hate to use the word “old” . . . Maybe I should say we’re seasoned vets in this business. I’ve been reading her books since before I saw my own published, and I met her for the first time — I think — at a national conference in Dallas in 1987. I say I think because I was just a brand-new-published little mouse at her very first conference, and most of it went by in a huge blur!
Kathleen’s made the bestseller lists and won awards and written lots of great books. She lives in South Carolina, where she’s a proud grandmother. (Another thing we have in common!)
The Blurb:
DANGER SIGNALS
Silhouette Romantic Suspense
After tracking a serial killer through six brutal murders, detective Wade Callahan didn’t know where to turn. Then Tierney Doyle, an empath and the police force’s secret weapon, joined the search. Wade was immediately attracted to the beautiful blonde—but he didn’t trust her abilities. He didn’t trust her.
Until Tierney uncovered a fact he couldn’t deny. Someone was watching Wade—someone who might be connected to the recurring nightmare he’d had since childhood. And as he and Tierney both came into the killer’s sights, Wade knew he’d face down death to keep this woman by his side.
And a note from Kathleen:
Have you ever noticed how sometimes our lives can take us on journeys we never expected, or could possibly have imagined?
So it is for us authors and the books we write, when a plot takes on a life of its own, or a character suddenly begins to speak with his or her own voice, or when characters we’ve tried to relegate to supporting roles insist on telling their own stories.
So it was several years back when I wrote a book called “One Christmas Knight.” That book led to more “Knight” books, then “The Sisters Waskowitz” and “Starrs of the West” series. And a minor character, a little girl named Sammie June, took hold of my heart, and my editor’s and readers’ hearts as well. Sammie June—now grown-up Samantha, or Sam—figured prominently in the RITA Award-winning “Top Gun’s Return,” and had her own story told in “Secret Agent Sam.”
From that book came the inspiration for a whole new series, about her husband Cory Pearson’s search for his four lost siblings, who were separated from him after an unspeakable tragedy claimed their parents. We are calling this new series “THE TAKEN.” There will be four books, one for each of Cory’s two brothers and two sisters. “DANGER SIGNALS” is the first.
This is a series that has touched my heart in a very personal way, although I tell myself I didn’t really write it for that reason. You see, I’ve always known I have four younger half-siblings—two brothers and two sisters—who have no idea that I exist. For reasons I’ve never fully understood but have always honored, those children’s parents chose to keep the fact that they have an older half-sister from them. One day, I’ve always told myself, I will try to find them. Maybe I was waiting for the right time, or maybe I’m just a big chicken, but so far that day has never come. But life is so short and often uncertain, isn’t it? And then last fall, quite by accident, I happened upon my father’s obituary. In it were all the clues I would need to find my brothers and sisters. And one of the reasons for keeping the secret is now gone. So…what am I waiting for? Quite frankly, I’m a little scared. How will they accept this bombshell I’ve been harboring for so many decades? Will they want to know about me? Meet me? Or will they reject me as our father did?
I won’t know unless I try, will I? Maybe it’s time I did. I’ll let you know how it goes…
Kathleen
And an excerpt from DANGER SIGNALS:
“You’re not a believer in…what I do.”
His eyebrows lifted in mock surprise. “Wow, you are a mind reader.”
“I read emotions, not minds.”
And he watched her eyes change, an effect so unmistakable it startled him, but which he couldn’t have described to save his life. A veil…a shadow…and yet, neither of those. Somehow, though they continued to gaze into his, her eyes seemed to be looking at something else, something only she could see. He wanted to tell her to stop…whatever it was she was doing. She was creeping him out. But before he could open his mouth, she spoke again, in a hoarse almost-whisper.
“He tortured her…tied her here—” she gestured toward the swing hanging limp and empty next to the one she clung to “—so her feet wouldn’t touch the ground. He cut her…burned her…” And as she spoke the words in a breathy undertone her hand wandered here and there over her body, showing him where.
A strange prickling sensation washed over his skin. He felt his stomach go cold. How could she know that? No one outside the task force knows that—no one. And it wasn’t covered in the briefing this morning, either.
“Who told you that?” he demanded, his voice raw with anger. But she didn’t seem to hear him.
“He covered her mouth with something—tape, I think—so she couldn’t scream. Couldn’t—” She let go of the chain, suddenly, and gripped his arm instead. He felt the cold of her hand through the layers of his shirt and jacket. The veil—whatever it was—was gone from her eyes and they were seeing him again. “Please—I need to get away from it. From here. This place. Do you mind?”
“Sure,” he said, “why not? Where do you want to go?”
He had to hand it to her—she was good. Damn good. The hand on his arm actually felt like it needed his support, and he could see tiny beads of sweat scattered across her forehead and the bridge of her freckled nose. He could hear the faint shudder of her uneven breathing. And even with her touseled head of sunshot red-gold curls just inches from his shoulder, he realized he hadn’t thought of cheerleaders since she’d first looked into his eyes.
“I don’t care, just—” she nodded toward the parking lot, crowded now with law enforcement and crime scene vehicles of all shapes and sizes. The news media, thank God, had been restricted to the park perimeter by manned police barricades. “Just anywhere. I need some distance. From where it happened.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.” Annoyance made him tight-lipped and shorter with her than he should have been, though the annoyance was with himself for beginning to believe, even for a moment, that there might be something to her flimflam. And for not being smooth enough to think of a way to rid his arm of the oddly disturbing weight of her hand without seeming churlish.
They walked, slowly. He had the interrogator’s knack of patient waiting, and in due time it paid off. She began to talk, in a voice that seemed completely normal, nothing like the hoarse half-whisper of a few minutes ago. She had a nice voice, he had to admit, with an almost musical lilt to it. Out of the blue he found himself wondering if she did sing, or play an instrument of some kind.
“I don’t know if I’ve been able to pick up much–anything that will help you identify the killer, that is. She didn’t know him. She was so afraid, at first. Later, she just wanted to know…she just kept asking Why? That was what was in her mind when she… At the end.”Wade let out a breath, shook his head. Couldn’t believe what he was about to ask. “What about him? The killer? Pick up any vibes from him?”
There was a long pause before she answered, and this time while he waited he allowed himself to look down at her, thinking—hoping—he might get some kind of clue to what made her tick. He didn’t, of course, but what he did get was an unexpected kick right square in the libido. Damn, but she was pretty, even with a little watermark frown marring the creamy perfection of her forehead.
She jerked a look up at him, as if she’d—damn it, he wasn’t going to believe she’d read his mind.Copyright 2008 Kathleen Creighton-Fuchs
I love skeptics and believers! It’s so much fun watching one win the other over. By the way, Romantic Times Magazine gave the book 4 1/2 stars!
Click on over to buy it at Amazon.
And check out Kat’s website to read about more of her fabulous books!
Questions and/or comments are welcome!
April 5, 2008
Guesting today: Nina Bruhns
Hey, guys, I’m happy to be featuring Nina’s latest book, THE REBEL PRINCE, an out-of-this-world adventure from Silhouette Romantic Suspense. Nina’s a bestseller and award-winner, and is in the running for a RITA, our industry’s top award, to be given in San Francisco this summer.
First, the blurb:
The Rebel Prince
Silhouette Romantic Suspense (SRS)
ISBN-13: 978-0373275748
She thinks he is simply out of this world.
Little does she know just how right she is…
Practical, sensible science teacher Serenity Woodson is on a mission to prove her beloved aunt Tildy’s new friend is not a prince from another galaxy, as he so boldly claims. I mean really. Extraterrestrials on earth? Please. The man is a con artist, plain and simple, out to steal Tildy’s priceless necklace. But what turns out to be far more alarming is what he actually does succeed in stealing–Seri’s heart.
The thing is, Seri is right. Adventurous Prince Carch Sunstryker’s mission is in fact to retrieve the precious necklace that his grandfather foolishly left in the care of an earth woman, and return it to his home planet. If he doesn’t succeed, his whole family will die. But when the necklace disappears for real, he and Seri are forced to work together to find it. And the closer they get, the more the earth moves for both of them….
An excerpt:
“Didn’t find a choice you like?” a deep voice said from behind her.
Startled, she swung around to see a tall figure sprawled negligently on the carved wooden garden bench in the middle of the courtyard, observing her.
And it was decidedly not Aunt Tildy.
Seri swallowed a gasp of surprise…then a gasp of something quite different.
Good grief. This male was—objectively speaking—gorgeous. Nothing like the dull, insipid specimens in college. Tan and broad-shouldered, his body was muscular, his face lean, expressive and angular, with a definite air of authority. Hair the color of gold dust was just a little too long to be truly civilized. And his smile…the only way to describe it was knowing. She didn’t usually go in for blond men, but this one… Lord, can you say “bad boy?”
“I–I, um…” Had he asked her a question?
That knowing smile curved up ever so slightly. “I take it you’re not looking for love?”
“I—“ She straightened. “Excuse me?”
He rose to his feet in a lithe movement that seemed to make the air around him shimmer. “The doorbells.”
“Oh,” she said, squinting at the odd optical illusion. But it had vanished. Strange.
He gazed at her expectantly.
Right. The doorbells. She forced herself to look at them, struggling to gather her badly scattered wits. Something about this man rattled her to the core. A feeling… No, she didn’t do feelings. An aura, then… God, even worse.
“What can I say?” She managed a weak laugh and glanced back at him, startled to find he was standing right behind her. “There are never enough choices.”
His smile curved even more. “Never the right one,” he agreed, tilting his head. “I’ll bet I can guess, though.”
“Oh, really?” At the moment she wasn’t even sure she knew what the right one would be.
Her breath stalled as he reached for her—that is, past her, and opened the door to the Second Sun.
“You came for a reading? Tildy isn’t here at the moment, but I’ll do one for you.” Then, as though he were a mind-reader instead of a tarot card reader, he added, “I can tell you all sorts of things you didn’t know.”
“I… I’m not–” she stammered like an idiot, taking in the unlocked door with an inkling of suspicion. “You work here?”
“Not exactly.” He motioned her in first, and she fully intended to refuse, but strangely, when he put his fingers lightly on the small of her back, a tingle shivered through her whole body and in that dizzy sensation she completely forgot her objections to being alone with him.
He followed her inside. “I pitch in whenever Tildy needs a hand. I own the bookstore.” He jabbed a thumb at the Old World Rare and Antique Bookstore on the street side of the courtyard. “But I have a manager to watch things for me. Carch Sunstryker,” he introduced himself with a disarming smile, “at your service.”
She was still recovering from that touch on her back, so when he extended his hand she really didn’t want to risk touching him a second time, but for some reason her body was not obeying her today.
She put her hand in his, and was saying, “Seri Woodson,” when sure enough that tingly sensation quivered straight through her again, knocking the polite, “Nice to meet you,” right out of her mouth and leaving her more than a bit shaken. And stirred, too, for that matter.
“Ah,” he said, giving her another bone-melting smile. “Serenity June. Tildy’s niece.”
She didn’t know what was happening to her, but whatever it was, she didn’t care for it. With a concerted effort, she withdrew her hand from his before she did something monumentally stupid. Like melt in a puddle at his feet.
This was ridiculous. She didn’t do simpering, eyelash-batting female. She didn’t do men, for crying out loud. Remember the college experiments!
“Just Seri,” she corrected briskly, and tucked her hands under her armpits, safely out of danger. “Any idea when my aunt will be back?”
For a moment he gazed at her with that annoyingly knowing smile on his perfectly sculpted lips, then he pursed them as though trying to decide…lord knew what.
“Soon,” he finally said. “But for now—“ he swept his hand toward the back room where Tildy’s tarot table was set up behind a theatrical black velvet curtain. “Shall we?”
A drift of alarm sifted through her. “Shall we what?”
He just smiled.
Wow! Love the shaken and stirred line — LOL.
And now a note from Nina herself:
Last week, an article in our local paper, the Post and Courier, really got me thinking. Written by columnist Rebekah Bradford, who is wonderful and a great friend to romance novels, part of the new and very welcome thaw in Charleston’s über-conservative attitude (read: prejudice) against “those books”, the article was nevertheless somewhat critical of the (alleged) changes which romance novels have undergone since 9/11.
Here’s a link to the article:
Charleston.netThe gist of what Bradford said was that she feels the complex, dark and intense romances of the nineties have given way post-9/11 to a genre that is “breezy, full of humor and feel-good emotion.” Okaaay… Well, that brings up several things in my mind. The first being, so, what’s wrong with humor and feel-good emotion!?
But I get what she means. I honestly do. Even if I don’t strictly agree with her assertion that all romance novels are like that now. Because I’ve read a ton of wonderfully dark, complex and unpredictable stories just this past year. My own NIGHT MISCHIEF, which was an October 07 release from Silhouette Nocturne, is an extremely dark and intense read. It is currently up for a RITA Award, which is the romantic equivalent of an Oscar (yay! ☺). So, I would definitely disagree that you can’t find seriously intricate and emotional romances out there today.
Personally, I love writing textured and angsty stories, full of twists and wrenching conflict. But guess what? And here’s the bottom line. They don’t sell nearly as well as the light, humorous, pure entertainment books do. In fact, I used to alternate writing lighter stories with darker, but the difference in sales among my own books is so striking that a couple of years ago I made a conscious decision to stop writing the serious stories I love so well in favor of more light, breezy ones. Luckily, I enjoy writing those also. ☺ In March I had a hero from outer space (I like to characterize THE REBEL PRINCE as “Mork and Mindy meets The DaVinci Code and Sex and the City” – how serious can that be?) and coming in June KILLER TEMPTATION is a sexy romp on the beach in Fiji (okay, there’s a serial killer there, but trust me it’s not the least bit scary). I was lucky enough recently to sell to Berkley (Penguin/Putnam) and those bigger books will be fairly dark and quite complex romantic thrillers. I’m already starting to worry about sales and I haven’t even finished writing the first one… Yikes.
So, I guess I would argue that if indeed there is a predominance of lighter romance fare out there today, the trend is being driven by the number of readers who prefer that type of story and show it with their purchases. As an author, I wish it were otherwise. But there you go. You have to give the audience what they want. Hopefully in another five years it will swing back the other way.
Meanwhile, what do you think? Do you see a trend to lighter reads in romance? Do you prefer them to the darker stories? Or…?
I’d love to hear your comments!
Nina
2008 RITA nominee
You can check out more on THE REBEL PRINCE and Nina’s other great books at her website.
Order THE REBEL PRINCE online at Amazon.
Dont forget: comments are on (yea!!), so questions and comments are welcome!
March 31, 2008
Bread Pudding
A while back, I blogged about making bread pudding almost as good as Grandma’s was for my mom (and now for the whole family, including my sister’s in-laws), and one of you asked if I would share the recipe. I always share recipes, but I just kept forgetting and putting off digging through computer files for it. But today, finally!, here it is.
Bread Pudding
6-8 cups stale bread, crumbled
2 cups each cream, milk, and sugar
4 tablespoons butter, melted
3 eggs
2 tablespoons vanilla
1 cup each raisins, coconut, and chopped pecans
1 teaspoon each cinnamon and nutmeg1 cup butter (not margarine)
1 ½ cups powdered sugar
1 egg
½ cup orange juice, bourbon, or rumCombine first group of ingredients. Pour into buttered 9X9″ baking dish. Place in cold oven; heat to 350° and bake approximately 1 hour or until top is golden brown.
For sauce: beat butter and sugar in sauce pan over medium heat until all butter is absorbed. Remove from heat and blend in egg. Pour in liquid gradually, stirring constantly. Serve warm over bread pudding.
This is also really good with sweetened whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.
You might notice I also (finally!) have this blog set up for comments. My other blog had comments turned on from the beginning, and I kept getting spammed with Texas Hold ‘Em website links, so we turned off those comments and I told Web Diva Mary I didn’t want to mess them with on here. (The title of the other blog is “Rachel Speaks,” and the motto is, “I speak, you listen. Period.”)
But spamming blogs got easier to control, and best friend Susan kept nagging — oops, I mean encouraging me to set up the comments so she wouldn’t have to email me to say something. So . . . I did it. Mary got the comments set up. So if you have anything to say, feel free to say it.
March 29, 2008
Cooking 101
I tested a new recipe tonight — loads of shrimp, garlic and pasta — and it turned out great. I try lots of new recipes, usually one or two a week, but there was a time factor on this one: I was participating in a survey, and today was the deadline. Of course I didn’t plan ahead, so at seven o’clock tonight, I headed out to the grocery store to pick up the ingredients. Then back home, feed the puppers, thaw the shrimp, peel ‘em , devein ‘em, marinate ‘em . . .
I learned how to cook when I was a kid, but I was never particularly fond of it. After I sold my first book, I used the excuse of working to avoid cooking; we ate dinner out seven days a week, plus lunch on weekends, for years.
But in the last few years, I began to appreciate cooking as a serious pursuit rather than a necessity at the end of a long day. I started trying new recipes in earnest and coming up with my own. And now it’s one of the bigger interests in my life. I adore thumbing through the hundreds of recipes in my personal cookbook or that I’ve torn from magazines or found online. I like tinkering with ingredients, and I LOVE buying and playing with kitchen gadgets. My garlic peeler is my new favorite toy, though my garlic press ranks a close second.
Now if I can just find a place around here that sells blade steak for the next new recipe, I’ll have it made.
March 24, 2008
My Favorite Easter Bunny . . . Aww, isn’t he sweet?
I hate that we didn’t get to see the family for Easter, but Brandon’s still recuperating from a bad landing — he’s Airborne, you know — well, that particular day he was wind-borne, I suppose. Anyway, he wasn’t up to the trip, but Bobbi sent us pictures of the most beautiful, intelligent, and sweetest baby in the entire world. It’s almost as good as being there.
Baby and Mom coloring eggs:
Sweet-pea likes eggs!
Grandbaby and grand lambie:
What a darlin’:
Son and grandson — look at those tennis shoes!
