Today, my log line for Husbandry is up at The Log Line Blog at http://theloglineblog.blogspot.com/2013/05/husbandry.html. Anyone who comments on my or any of the other daily log lines is entered in the monthly contest (as outlined by The Log Line Blog).
Posted in Ramblings & Trivia
Tagged Ecstasy Overload, sci-fi romance, T.A. Grey, trivia
Looking for something delicious? How about Chad’s manicotti. LOL, I’m talking about the manicotti recipe he uses to impress Fila’s family in Husbandry.
Each of Fila’s three husbands has his own personality and advantages, and Chad is the artistic, romantic one who knows how to cook. He can even say something naughty in Italian while he does it. I’ve eaten this spinach manicotti on numerous occasions, and I can testify that it’s delizioso.
• 3 cloves garlic, peeled and minced • 3 tbsp olive oil • 5 cups chopped tomatoes • 4 tbsp chopped basil • Salt, pepper, and garlic salt • 3 cups ricotta cheese • 1 cup cooked spinach, chopped and drained • ½ cup grated parmesan cheese • ½ cup shredded mozzarella cheese • 1 package manicotti shells (10-14 shells)Chop tomatoes and basil and shred mozzarella. In a heavy saucepan, heat the olive oil and cook the garlic until fragrant. Add the tomatoes and basil, season with salt and pepper, stir, and cook over low heat for 15 minutes. While sauce is cooking, cook the manicotti shells in salted, boiling water until al dente. Drain the shells and drop into a bowl of cold water. In a bowl, mix together the spinach and three cheeses with salt, pepper, and garlic salt. Drain the shells and pat dry with a towel. Spoon a half cup of sauce into the bottom of a large (covered) baking pan and spread evenly. Fill manicotti shells with ricotta mixture and lay in pan side by side. Spoon the sauce evenly over the shells, then sprinkle with garlic salt and parmesan cheese. Bake the pasta covered for 20 minutes at 375°F. Then remove cover and cook for another 20 minutes. Serve immediately.
And now here’s a special excerpt from Husbandry:
… Since my mother hadn’t returned from the kitchen yet, I figured I’d better get in there to rescue Chad.
Sure enough, she’d taken over, though not as badly as I’d feared. Somehow my husband had relegated her to salad duty while he stuffed the manicotti shells. He looked happy, not browbeaten.
“Your mother just gave me a recipe for homemade ricotta,” he announced. “I’ll have to try it. The ricotta you picked up is fresh, but you can’t beat homemade.”
“Sounds complicated.” I hadn’t realized you could make cheese at home without a cow.
“Not as complicated as you might think,” he assured me. “Ricotta isn’t technically a cheese. It’s a dairy product made from whey. All you need is some whole milk and something for acid, like vinegar or buttermilk.”
“Fila was never interested in cooking.” My mother made this announcement as she finished dicing some tomato and threw it into the salad bowl. “I had to drag her into the kitchen when she was a girl to teach her how to make a proper meal.”
I reached for the wine bottle to top off my glass. “That’s because I wanted to go out and play with my friends instead. You insisted I get all my homework done first, which usually took me until just before dinnertime.”
“Well, those lessons must have paid off, Minnie. Your daughter is a terrific cook now.” Chad paused long enough to kiss my cheek. “What about your other children?”
I answered for her. “Oh, my brothers and sister were expected to learn too. Mom believes in equal opportunity.”
“All my children were taught to be self-sufficient,” my mother announced with pride. “No adult should wander around like a helpless pet waiting to be fed. They know how to make a meal for themselves.”
I almost gushed red wine through my nose. Helpless pet? Not a flattering description, especially since, by her definition, that label could apply to Charles, Chuck, and my father. Charles could only reheat or order in, and Chuck was the same except he could grill and barbecue. As for my dad, he was so lost in the kitchen he could barely find the milk in the refrigerator. It was a good thing the three men were out of earshot in the other room.
Chad spooned chunky tomato sauce and cheese over the stuffed manicotti he now had lined up in a baking pan. “I was hoping Fila’s siblings might come with you. I’d really like to meet them too.”
Knowing my mother, I suspected she’d given my sister, Nikki, an earful after I’d sent my unedited wedding photo. Nikki had already complained to me that since my marriage, our mother had turned the pressure up on her to follow suit. Despite my mom’s reservations about my having three husbands, she’d probably thrown it in Nikki’s face: if I could land three men, she should be able to land one. Minnie Leonard was a master at manipulating her children—for their own good, of course.
“Nikki started a new job, and Frank is off gallivanting around the world as usual.” My mom turned to address me. “Sometimes I think your brother will never settle down. He’s still renting that little efficiency.”
“An efficiency apartment makes sense for him.” Defending him was automatic, though I knew she wouldn’t listen. “And he’s not ‘gallivanting.’ Frank is working. He’s a journalist.”
My mother pursed her lips and returned a skeptical hum. “As for Josef, he’s doing very well at the bank. He’s looking at a possible promotion to regional manager, so he couldn’t afford to take the time off.”
“Joe is up for a promotion?” I smiled, genuinely happy for my older brother. “I hope he gets it. He deserves it, and if I know him, he’ll sock away any extra earnings in a college fund for the kids. I think he has dreams of Ivy League for my nieces.”
Mom looked pleased.
“Okay.” Chad slid the dish of manicotti into the oven and set the timer. “While that bakes, I just need to get the garlic bread done. It looks like you’ve got the salad almost ready, so we’re looking good. More wine, Minnie?”
“Yes, please.” My mother held out her glass. Although she kept her lips in a straight line, I thought I caught a glimmer of appreciation when she looked at Chad.
It would take more than a good meal and good hosting to win her approval, but my charming husband was making headway.
Posted in Ramblings & Trivia
Tagged Allie Ritch, Husbandry, Loose Id, menage, polyamory, recipe, romance, spinach manicotti
Heart of the Sun is available for free at ARe at https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-heartofthesun-1018534-143.html
Posted in Ramblings & Trivia
Tagged trivia, Victoria Zagar, Heart of the Sun, free e-book
Posted in Ramblings & Trivia
Tagged Heart of the Sun, m/m, sci-fi, trivia, Victoria Zagar
***
The Fine Line Between Paranormal and Science Fiction
My Thoughts On Writing A Time Travel Novel – by Lisa M. Owens
Okay. My novel is finished. It has been published.
Now what the hell is the genre?
Describing it as a Contemporary Romance is easy enough. The time travel element, though, can get a little tricky. Could it be called Paranormal? Or would it be Science Fiction? The lines can be so blurry that it can be quite difficult to tell.
I have always been fascinated with the concept of time travel. Whether it is someone coming to Earth visiting from the future or delving back through your past, those kinds of stories have always intrigued me. So what made me decide to write one?
Bree Sexton is a woman who made one decision that she has always regretted. I knew that I wanted her to get the chance to right this wrong, but to do so, she would have to find a way to go back in time to change her decision. But how should I send her back in time? I struggled with this idea for a few days, turning different scenarios around in my head, before I finally decided, committing my idea to paper.
I thought of everything from a horrific car accident to getting trampled on by a horse. (Not kidding!) I had even entertained the thought of her being in a coma and dreaming the entire thing. But where would my happy ending be then? Nothing would have changed from the beginning of my story, and I didn’t want that!
But I didn’t want her to be hovering on the brink of death and I didn’t want her seriously injured. So I thought again.
What if on the night of her divorce from Mr. Wrong she is out with friends and runs into the man she left behind? How would she feel seeing him again? How would she feel if he was happily married to someone else? And what if she had the chance to see what it would have been like if she had married him instead?
Those were some of the questions that consumed my thoughts and If Only was born. After I had my basic storyline thought through, I wrote the entire first chapter that very night. When I first started, I had no idea that it would ever get published. I never even realized that I would ever finish it. It was just a crazy idea I had that haunted my thoughts.
This story spoke to me and Bree Sexton ended up being a persistent woman! She demanded that her story be told. And apparently, she had chosen me to tell it!
The woman turned out to be every bit as stubborn as I am!
So is my story Paranormal or Science Fiction?
I think I will allow the readers to tell me!
Blurb:
What would you do if you had the opportunity to go back and relive your greatest mistake?
Five years ago, Bree Sexton walked out on her fiancé and into the arms of a charming and handsome stranger. She has regretted her decision ever since. Instead of a fairy-tale marriage, her “prince” shattered her dreams and her spirit with physical violence and emotional cruelty she barely escaped.
She then mysteriously wakes up in bed with the fiancé she loved and left, the life she’d dreamed of now a reality, until her cruel ex-husband reappears to destroy her new life. But what is real, and what is make-believe? Is she really getting the chance she has always dreamed of? And when it is all said and done, will she finally end up with the man she has always regretted leaving? Or will she wake up to discover herself alone?
Excerpt:
Bree stood there for a minute, watching as he walked out of her life. She couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she had married Scott instead of Bryan. How would her life have been different? Would she have had children by now? Would she and Scott still be together, after all this time? Those thoughts and more weighed heavily on her mind as she headed out of the bar. It had begun to snow, and she wrapped her coat even tighter around her slender frame. She looked around, but there was no one to be found. She couldn’t help herself; she stuck out her tongue, a childish impulse she couldn’t ignore, and then laughed out loud in spite of herself.
She looked both ways before attempting to cross the street. Not seeing any cars, she began to make her way across. Bree was walking cautiously when one of her high heels slipped on a patch of ice. She could feel herself falling, and her breathing quickened as she began to panic, wishing she had waited for her friends before venturing off on her own. One shoe flew off as she landed, her head striking the curb. A sharp pain racked through the back of her skull, causing her to cry out. The last thing she saw was Scott’s face swimming before her eyes, and then her world went black.
Bree awoke to a man nipping gently on her earlobe, his tongue stroking the delicate curves. His hot breath blew into her ear, sending shivers up and down her spine. She slowly opened her eyes as a man’s hand stroked her upper thigh, and she sighed happily.
Ooh, I must be dreaming. And it was such a delicious dream, too.
The man’s hand traveled up her thigh and then encircled her flat stomach. Out of the corner of her eyes, Bree could see a dark head pressing against her abdomen. Then she shivered as a tongue laved her belly button, going in and out erotically, making her feel as though her body was on fire. Bryan had never made her feel like this, and she hadn’t even looked yet to see who this stranger was! But she was only dreaming, so what difference did it make?
His hand continued traveling north, lovingly caressing her skin. He reached for her aching breasts, pressing her nipples roughly before he lowered his mouth to suckle them, first one, and then the other. Bree arched in anxious response to his touch. She longed to see his face, but she feared one look would make his magical touch disappear.
She ached all over, wanted his hands to caress her everywhere, and she longed to touch him. She opened her legs as he straddled her. His hair brushed her naked chest as he began kissing her. His tongue was driving her crazy with desire as he placed tender kisses along her neckline. He brushed her hair aside.
His morning stubble stung her delicate skin, but she hungered for more. Just one more touch, just one more taste, and she would awaken from this wonderful dream and find herself in bed, all alone.
“Oh, Bree, baby. What you do to me,” he whispered, his voice husky.
That voice jerked her back to the present. The voice had haunted her dreams for years. The voice of the man she just couldn’t seem to get over.
“Scott,” she whispered.
About the Author
The writing bug bit Lisa M. Owens at an early age; she was writing short stories and poetry by the age of seven. At the age of eight, she entered a writing contest at her elementary school. About fifty books were written, but Lisa was one of the thirteen writers chosen who received a certificate and the chance to meet Oklahoma writer Sandy Miller.
A former victim of domestic violence herself, Lisa worked at the courthouse for over seven years. Almost three of those years she worked on the Marriage License/Protective Order desk. She helped women file protective orders and worked closely with the staff and counselors at DVIS.
Frustrated with books that merely gloss over the subject of domestic violence, Lisa wanted to write a book that told the entire story. Her dream is for her words to help give someone the courage to leave an abusive relationship.
She resides in Oklahoma and has two children. This is her first published novel, and she is currently working on the next novel of her If Only series.
Lisa enjoys hearing from her readers and can be reached at P.O. Box 9643, Tulsa, OK 74157-0643, or by e-mail, lisamowens@ymail.com. She can also be contacted on her website, www.lmowens.com.
Links to find Lisa
https://twitter.com/_lisamowens
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lisa-M-Owens-Author-Page/401065116637549
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6884569.Lisa_M_Owens
Buy If Only
http://www.lsbooks.com/lisa-m-owens-c343.php
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/if-only-lisa-m-owens/1114147612?ean=9781595789891
Posted in Ramblings & Trivia
Tagged author, fiction, genres, Liquid Silver Books, Lisa M. Owens, paranormal, science fiction, time travel
I think I’d buy season tickets to those games 
To Micah Truveen, raw, vegan food is his religion. So when his devoted customers show up with white flour cupcakes, Micah could kill. Then Micah comes home to find his boyfriend, Dharamaram, in bed with someone else. He throws the rat out and agrees to go to his friend’s orgiastic anti-Valentines party where he meets a gorgeous cross-dressing guy who gives him a night to remember.
Southerner Quentin Darby wishes he could stop wearing women’s clothes. He so wants to live up to his grandmother’s glowing opinion of him, he’s never even told her he’s gay. And now there’s Micah who makes him wish he could just be who he is. But Micah finds out that Quentin is the baker responsible for the plague of cupcakes afflicting the community! And Dharmaram adds a little blackmail to the mix. Can two hearts rise above the flour?
***
Physical Description: OK, so Micah kind of knew that people thought he was good looking. He couldn’t see it himself. He was tall enough, but kind of skinny and mangy looking. His dark, almost black hair would not stay out of his eyes. His lips were too full and cheeks too lean. Using his bike as transportation made him fit—hell, he even had a six-pack—but altogether he looked like a survivor from a desert island.
Attitude Description: He felt like someone just hit him in the head with a baseball bat. Good nutrition wasn’t about most of the time. Jesus. The body constantly produced new cells. Give them one excuse to alter that DNA negatively and you were on your way to disintegration. Annie knew that. He’d taught her in classes and conversations over kale and spinach juice. You are what you f***ing eat. It was just that simple. Cupcakes weren’t food! God, kill me now.
Quote: Yes, he believed in the benefit of organic, raw food. But he also wanted to believe in being happy. In falling in love. And if he didn’t get the organic, biodegradable stick out of his ass, he was going to lose the best thing that had ever happened to him. Quentin did it for him. No explaining it, but there it was.
Physical Description: Queen – “Queen” was clearly the correct title. His pale blonde hair hung around his shoulders, decorating the lacey blouse that opened over delicate collarbones and the slight swell of his imaginary breasts. That face. Wow. He wore maybe a little mascara and a touch of pink lipstick, but that was all. Amazing. Even without the eyeliner and brilliant red lips, the illusion of Queen’s femininity was complete.
Quentin – He dropped the blouse on the chair beside the bed then reached back and unfastened his bra. When it came off, Micah’s eyes widened. “Beautiful.”
Quentin grinned. “Why? There’s not much to see.”
“Your chest is very masculine. Well-muscled but boyish. So pretty.” Micah reached up and ran his hands over Quentin’s nipples. “Oh my.” The buds tightened in anticipation. Micah smiled and pulled back his hands. “What’s next?”
Quentin giggled. “You’re enjoying this I think.”
“Oh my, yes, as you would say.”
“OK.” Quentin reached up and slipped his thumbs under the edge of his wig.
Micah gasped. “Wait. I thought that was your hair.”
“No. It’s just a very good wig. Shall I leave it on?”
He shook his head. “No. No, I want to see.” Quentin glanced at him sideways.
“You could be disappointed.”
“No. I want to see.”
Quentin pulled the wig off. His own hair was so light, he didn’t have to cover it to wear the wig. As the wig came off, he shook his head like a dog in the water and his curls flew around his head.
Micah smiled. “I’ll be damned. How could you be prettier with your own hair? But you are.”
Quote: He turned to her. “Dharmaram is his boyfriend, Mary Beth. He’s gay. He came to see his gay boyfriend. Not you. Not me. This is not South Carolina where gay men pretend they’re ‘just not the marrying kind.’ You have to get used to that, dear. We both have to get used to that.”
***
Excerpt: HEARTS AND FLOUR by Tara Lain; MM Contemporary; The Vegan and the Cupcake Baker
Gasping for breath, he stopped outside the store. Locked. Of course. It was only eight thirty in the morning. At least Dharmaram’s class didn’t start until nine. If only Quentin would come here to the shop right after he dropped off his grandmother. Or maybe even before. Oh God. What if he went in and Dharmaram confronted them together? No warning. Just a smack in the face. Maybe he should run to the yoga studio? He took two steps down the pavement—
“Micah?”
He turned back to see that beautiful face. A beautiful face and body—dressed in men’s clothes. He’d seen Quentin as Queen. He’d seen Quentin naked. But this was the first time seeing him as a man.
“Wow.”
Of course, that masculine image was slightly compromised by the fact that Quentin wore an apron over his jeans and T-shirt. An apron covered in flour and dough. Micah wanted to lick it off. The first processed food he’d had in years.
Quentin wiped his hands. “What did you want?”
His eyes wouldn’t focus. He just wanted to keep staring at that loveliness.
“Maybe I could get one of your raw cupcakes?”
“You came here before opening for a cupcake?”
Micah shook his head. “No. I have something to tell you. Something pretty awful.”
Quentin frowned. “Something more awful than you going back to your yoga teacher a few hours after we had sex?”
Micah breathed out hard. “It’s related to that. Where can we talk?”
“There’s people baking in the kitchen. You know, baking that poison I make and force on people?” He stood very upright.
“I’m truly sorry for that. Just, please, let me tell you what’s happened.”
“OK.” Quentin stepped aside and pointed to the back. Micah walked into the shop, assailed again by the sweetest of smells. No second sweetest, after Quentin.
Quentin walked through the door that led to the kitchen and Micah followed. He turned right and stepped into a small office with a desk, computer, and a filing cabinet. Quentin pointed to a straight-back chair across from the desk. He took the desk chair. “So what did you want to tell me?”
Whew. Face-to-face, this was tough duty. His heart beat so hard he could feel it in his toes. “I, uh, I really care about you.”
Who knew Quentin’s face could get that angry. “You sure have a unique way of showing it, sugah.”
“Wait. I’ve done a bunch of dumb things, and I’m not sure which is dumbest. First, I did that whole priggish song and dance about the cupcakes being poison when I should have been telling you how much I admire you and appreciate how you take care of your grandmother. And I really want to know why you created those raw cupcakes—” he held up a hand “—but first I have to tell you about my other idiot moves. The reason you saw me with Dharmaram is because he was blackmailing me. He figured out that the beautiful woman he saw me with is the grandson of his most proper southern lady student, and he threatened to tell Mary Beth about you if I didn’t take him back in. What you saw was him moving his stuff into my guest room. That’s guest room.”
Quentin’s mouth literally hung open. “But why did you do that? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Micah shrugged. “I knew if I told you, you’d immediately come out to your grandmother, and I didn’t want to force you to do something you didn’t want to do.”
“So you’ve been hosting that snake in the grass on account of me?” The blue eyes widened to saucer expanse.
Micah shifted in the chair. “I was. But that’s why I ran here so fast this morning. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I woke up this morning and he was climbing in bed with me. I threw him out again.”
“Good.”
“Not good, because he’s going to go straight to Mary Beth and—”
“Who’s going straight to me, darling?”
The soft southern voice came around the partly closed door followed by a curly head and blue eyes that sparkled just like her grandson’s.
He would have smiled but fear seemed to have frozen him solid. What could they say? All he could do was follow Quentin’s lead.
E-mail: tara@taralain.com
Website: http://www.taralain.com
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Note: All graphics used in this post are in the public domain and/or the author, Tara Lain, has the right to use them.
Posted in Ramblings & Trivia
Tagged character profiles, guest author, Hearts and Flour, Tara Lain
This book is available at Amazon.com
