Taste of Kiwi

We live near an estuary and have lots of water birds hanging around. The ducks, especially, seem to like roaming the roads and visiting people. We often have ducks on our front lawn. When Scotty and I used to go for a walk they’d follow after us, squawking for food. This one actually landed in the back part of our lawn. We fed her and she came back a few days later. It was a hot day, and I had all the sliding doors open. I was writing and happened to look up to see the duck ready to step right into our lounge. I scrambled to shut the door and we eyed each other through the glass for about five minutes.

To see more animal photos visit Camera Critters.

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The theme for this week is a black moment. I’ve chosen an excerpt from my Quickie, Issy’s Infatuation. It’s not the main black moment of the book, but it’s definitely a bad turn of events for the heroine, Issy.

Issy’s Infatuation by Shelley Munro

“Good luck, Issy.” Tyler squeezed her shoulder, leaning close for an instant, so close she thought he might actually kiss her in front of everyone. “You can do this.”

Issy nodded and hoped he was right. She jogged on the spot, trying to keep warm. A place in the Black Ferns. It was what she’d aimed for and dreamed of ever since she’d started playing for the Jets. Tyler had diverted her for a while but now that their time was over, she was back on track. Issy fell in with her teammates when the fifteen-strong team ran onto the field. The sun made an appearance but it was still bloody cold, gooseflesh rippling across her arms and legs. Her stomach lurched, the nerves still present. From experience she knew they wouldn’t settle properly until she’d had her first touch of the ball. Here’s hoping she didn’t flub it.

The referee blew his whistle. The Jets’ first-five kicked off and the rugby ball flew through the air. Issy sprinted in the same direction. One of the Panthers leapt for the ball but a Jet player contested it, reaching high to grab the ball first. They hit the ground and a ruck formed. It probably looked like a heap of bodies to the spectators but Issy’s team were skilled at passing the ball back underneath the tangle of bodies. The ball came out on the Jets’ side of the ruck. The crowd roared approval. Issy grabbed it, flicking the white ball along the back line. She sprinted down the field, backing up. Angela, their winger, kicked the ball over the heads of the opposition and it dribbled out over the sideline not far from the corner flag.

Issy hurried into position and waited for the lineout to form and the opposition hooker to take the throw in. From the corner of her eye she noted Tyler chatting to three men. The selectors. Issy looked away to concentrate on the unfolding game. She had to ignore them and play out of her skin. She ran, darted after the Panther player when they tried to make a break. Issy tackled the opposition player. The player fell and the ball popped free. Issy snatched it up and sprinted toward their goal line. A Panther ran at her, tackled.

It was bone-crunching hard, jarring her whole body. Their heads clashed. Issy’s world went dark. It was like crawling out of a long black tunnel. Very dark and later, seconds or maybe minutes, light appeared. The players had followed the ball, leaving her behind on the ground. They were way down the other end of the field. Damn, they were fuzzy, moving all over the place. Groggily, she climbed slowly to her feet. She wobbled, staggering a few steps. Issy shook her head and saw stars. She dropped to the ground, deciding to wait until the stars stopped whirring before she attempted to stand on her feet again.
Dimly, she heard the whistle, heard the thunder of feet racing toward her.

“Issy? Issy, sweetheart, are you okay?” It sounded like Tyler, but she wasn’t sure since the voice was so far away.

“Wanna stand up.” Issy struggled to a sitting position and someone helped her stand.

“Let me look at her,” another voice said. “Open your eyes for me. That’s a girl.”

What did he mean? Her eyes were open.

“Hmm. Lights are on, but nobody’s home,” the voice said. “Concussion. Looked to me as if she actually blacked out for a little while. She can’t play the rest of the game. She needs to get checked out at the emergency clinic.”

Go off? No way! “Not going off.” Issy turned, intending to rejoin the game when the referee signaled time back on. Instead she almost fell flat on her face and would have fallen if someone hadn’t caught her. Tears trickled down her face. She couldn’t go off. She couldn’t. The selectors wouldn’t choose her if they couldn’t see her play. “I want to play.”

“You can’t.” Tyler signaled to the reserve players and one of them ran onto the field to replace Issy. He did it with a heavy heart, knowing how gutted Issy must feel.

“I want to go back on,” Issy protested.

“You can’t even stand on your own, Issy.” Adam slipped his arm around her and guided her to the sideline.

Tyler followed, hearing the referee’s whistle when he signaled play to resume. Hell, poor Issy. A lump formed in his throat when he studied her pale face. It was easy to see she wasn’t sure what was going on yet, that the full disappointment wouldn’t hit until later. Damn, this wasn’t bloody fair. She’d trained so hard and done everything right only for an injury to rob her of the chance to impress the selectors.

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To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts, follow the links below:

Emma Petersen
McKenna Jeffries
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Lauren Dane
Mari Carr
Lissa Matthews
TJ Michaels
Elisabeth Naughton
Juliana Stone
Taige Crenshaw
Eliza Gayle

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Our local reality show, Nestle Hottest Home Baker has captured my attention, and I sit glued to the set each week to watch the on screen action. My favorite baker has been voted off the show, so I’ve had to shift my allegiance. I chose one of the contestant’s recipes to make for my March test recipe. They turned out really well and were delicious.

Ingredients:

1 cup dates chopped
Zest of 2 oranges
Juice of 2 oranges
1 Cinnamon Stick
A little sugar

Place these ingredients into a pot, melt and cook until it goes thick and caramelises. Note – my oranges didn’t have much juice, so I used some orange juice we had in the fridge. I added a little at a time until the dates sucked it up and I had a lovely thick mixture. Cool mixture.

4 cups self-raising flour
300ml cream (half a pint)
¼ cup sugar
1 can lemonade (Sprite)
½ tsp salt
Cinnamon sugar (make your own by mixing a few teaspoons of sugar with a little cinnamon)

Place flour and salt in a bowl. Add the date mixture and mix. Pour in cream and lemonade. Mix all ingredients into a smooth dough in a bowl. Tip out onto floured bench and cut out or shape. I just used a sharp knife and cut rough squares. Place scones just touching each other on tray. Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar. Bake at 220 degrees Celsius (425 degrees Fahrenheit) for 15-20 mins until starting to colour pale golden. Place on a tea towel on a wire rack.

Shelley’s notes: I used a fan bake oven, which cooks quicker. My scones were ready after ten minutes of cooking. My mix was quite damp and sticky. I sprinkled just enough flour on it for me to pat it into shape and cut into smaller squares.

The recipe is a hybrid of Chelsea Sugar & Good Taste Australia & Courtney from Nestle Hottest Home Baker.

This is the final product. I ate them warm with raspberry jam or a little butter. You could use jam and whipped cream as a topping or your favorite jam or jelly. I froze the leftovers, and they tasted just as good heated a little in the microwave after I’d thawed them out. My March recipe was a big success.

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I entered a competition a few weeks ago and yesterday, I received a box of rice and rice products worth $100. It was a real surprise, and now our pantry is full of rice. It’s just as well I like rice.

Thirteen Things About Rice

1. Rice is a staple food for more than half the world’s population.

2. Rice belongs to the grass family and produces seeds (the rice grains) on long stalks.

3. Rice is either short, medium or long grain. Short grain rice is more moist and sticky, due to higher starch content. Long grain rice is lighter and drier and the grains separate easier.

4. Rice is high in complex carbs. It has almost no fat. It has zero cholesterol and a low sodium content. It also provides protein and is a good source of vitamins and minerals. It’s gluten free and is easy to digest.

5. More than 40,000 varieties of cultivated rice exist.

6. Arborio rice is a short-grain rice grown in Italy. It absorbs flavor well and is used in making risotto. It can, however, be used in soups, rice puddings and paella dishes.

7. Basmati rice is my favorite. It’s a long-grain rice that comes from India and Pakistan. It’s name comes from the Hindi word for fragrant. It has a nutty scent and is perfect with curries.

8. Sushi rice has been grown in Japan for more than 2000 years. It’s sticky and holds its shape due to the high starch content.

9. Jasmine rice is mild and fragrant and is popular in Thailand and China.

10. At a wedding, the throwing of rice originally symbolized fertility. These days it symbolizes prosperity.

11. In China, young girls who are picky eaters are warned that every grain of rice they leave in their bowls represents a pock mark on the face of their future husband.

12. Rice writing originated in Turkey where it was believed that a grain of rice with an inscribed message led to good luck.

13. When hubby and I did an overland trip from London to Kathmandu, I had a stomach upset in Turkey and was toilet-bound for a couple of days. I still wasn’t very well when we traveled through Iran. At first, I ate rice because it was easy to keep inside me. We had problems finding vegetarian food so then I ate rice because I was hungry. It got to the stage where I didn’t want to see another single grain, let alone eat one! I still remember eating a delicious cheese omelette in an Esfahan hotel where we were staying. It was the best omelette ever.

Source: Taste Magazine – January/February 2010

Visit the Thursday Thirteen Hub.

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Alice from Fancy Free is on tour again. I’m visiting Smexy Books today where I’m talking about Fancy Free and doing a giveaway.

I’m also blogging at The Romance Studio today.

Warning: Condoms were tested and a few harmed during the writing of this story.

It’s not every day a girl inherits a condom company, and to say accountant Alice Beasley is astonished and out of her depth is putting it mildly. For an almost virgin, she needs a quick education in all things condom because her inheritance is in danger. Someone is intent on sabotage and playing nasty, trying to destroy her new company.

Alice is suddenly getting down and dirty with charismatic James, the factory manager, all in the name of business, testing new condom designs. The sex is hot. Mind-blowing. It’s a dark thrill and an erotic journey. Yeah, it’s a hard job, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s gotta do.

The testing turns personal. Alice wants James. She craves his talented touch and sultry kisses, she desires passion and physical pleasure on a permanent basis but first she must convince bad-boy James to give up his fancy-free ways…

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I’ve just sold book number nine in my Middlemarch Mates series. That’s right. Another story about the black leopards who live in Middlemarch, but as the title suggests, this particular book is about tigers. Tiger By The Tail is Ambar’s story and it’s a menage a trois with two men and one woman.

Here’s an unofficial blurb:

One plus one equals three.

Tiger shifter Hari Daya takes one look at Ambar Patel’s photo and is smitten. Further research heightens his fascination. An arranged marriage would work, except the lady isn’t buying and tells him to take a hike.

Ambar is already involved with human Jake Quinn. Casual pleasure and lovin’ works best for her since she dreams of traveling the world and delving into new experiences. The frisson of heat and desire she feels for Hari is unacceptable. There will be no tiger mate for her.

Jake Quinn has no idea either his lover or his new friend are shifters, but there sure as hell is something weird going on in his head. As much as he enjoys sex with Ambar, he’s thinking about Hari too. Suddenly there’s kissing and togetherness way past his comfort zone. The slide into sinful pleasure with both Hari and Ambar is easy—it’s the relationship dynamics that give them headaches and make them wonder if they’re making a huge mistake.

I don’t have a release date as yet, but it should be out in the next few months.

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My regular blog readers will probably recall my earlier post about pumpkins. Mr. Munro and I purchased seeds at the Farmers’ market and gave some to my father, some to my brother-in-law and we kept the remaining ones. Our first lot of seeds didn’t germinate. The second lot grew, but they didn’t grow much bigger than bowling balls.

I don’t think my father understood how big these particular pumpkins grow. He certainly didn’t understand our enthusiasm or competitive spirit. He’s definitely changed his tune since then and gleefully rings up to skite about the rapid growth of his pumpkins.

Here are some photos of some of his pumpkins. They’re all too big for me to lift. Both photos were taken about three weeks ago, so they’ve probably grown even bigger.

Aren’t they a gorgeous color?

I’m blogging at The Romance Studio Blue today about the first erotic romance I ever read.

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During our last visit to the farm, my father had a hen and several chickens that had hatched recently. They were awfully difficult to photograph and kept moving. This is a closeup of one of the chicks. The white on the right of the photo is the hen’s breast.

To see more animal photos visit Camera Critters.

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This week’s theme is lost love. I think I’ve posted this scene before, but I like it, so I’ve posted it again. Camryn Sullivan has lost her older husband and his death sends her on a downward spiral–until she is kidnapped by aliens.

HOUSE OF THE CAT by Shelley Munro

“I don’t care if Camryn’s your sister. She’s an alcoholic, and I swear she’s overdoing the prescription drugs as well. I don’t trust her near our son.”

“She loves Luke,” Max said.

“Last time Camryn baby-sat, she let Luke wander onto the racetrack. She was blind drunk.”

Her sister-in-law’s angry words brought Camryn O’Sullivan to an abrupt stop. She wavered on unsteady legs, not wasted but experiencing a buzz and blissful ignorance of the true state of her life. She smothered a giggle, slapping her hand over her quivering lips. Okay, she’d had drinks. Lots of drinks in pretty colors. Teeny umbrellas to match.

“What do you want me to do? I can’t throw her out. She’s my twin sister. She doesn’t have anyone else.”

A hit! Camryn screwed her eyes shut, protecting herself against the onslaught of pain. No, she didn’t want to think about Gabriel, about being alone. How much it hurt. Max couldn’t make her leave. He wouldn’t.

She had nowhere else to go.

“Max, it’s almost two years since Gabriel’s death. Camryn’s not improving. She needs help. More than we can give her.”

Silence fell, but Ellen’s words throbbed like the harping notes of a badly played violin. They hurt her head and brought forth a wave of indignation. She didn’t need help. She needed Gabriel, dammit. Only her husband’s presence would belay the paralyzing guilt she carried with her every day.

A rough masculine sigh sounded. “Love, you’re right. Camryn needs help, but she doesn’t see it. Until she realizes, all we can do is be here for her. She has to want change.”

“Fine, and meantime Camryn drags us down with her. I found her smoking inside the stables this afternoon. She reeked of alcohol. Other people have noticed. She won jockey of the year two years running, but have you noticed she’s not getting the rides she was a year ago? Camryn has real aptitude with horses, the gift you both have, and she’s throwing it away.”

A direct hit. Ellen’s words sliced with precision, ripping open wounds barely scabbed. The agony hit instantaneously, ferocious and heart-stopping. Silent tears ran down Camryn’s face, and she staggered against the door. Invisible bands clamped around her ribs. Camryn gasped hoarsely, the last of the drunken buzz bleeding away as she attempted to breathe. She wanted to rock away the pain, the guilt that came from knowing Gabriel would never return.

The wind caught the door, slamming it shut and the murmur of voices from the kitchen stopped abruptly.
No, not here. She couldn’t fall apart here. Camryn fumbled with the handle, increasingly desperate when footsteps neared.

“Camryn? Is that you?” Her twin brother’s baritone sounded in the passage not far from where she teetered.

Camryn finally managed to coordinate brain and hands. The door opened. She stumbled into the winter air. The bite of the wind brought a shiver, an increase to her misery. Whiskey. She needed a drink. And maybe one of those little yellow pills the nice doctor had prescribed to help her sleep. Anything to escape the horrid truth. She hadn’t meant to leave Luke alone. She loved her nephew. He raced about, so fast on his feet, and the sleepless nights had taken their toll. She’d fallen asleep in Gabriel’s favorite chair.

Luke loved horses. No surprise since his father bred and trained racehorses. She and Max had lived and breathed horses since they were Luke’s age. Camryn lurched along the muddy track leading to the cottage at the back of the main house.

Really, she didn’t need help. If Gabriel returned things would improve. She could kick the alcohol any time she wanted. A few pills to lift her mood. Camryn didn’t need them either. She needed Gabriel.

Camryn burst into her cottage, tracking mud across the tile floor. She staggered through the cluttered kitchen and into the dining room where she’d instructed her brother and his workers to place Gabriel’s chair. Camryn slumped into the big, masculine chair and pressed her nose against the cool leather. The faint scent of lavender soap and whiskey filled her senses, and a surge of tears blurred her vision. The chair didn’t smell of Gabriel anymore.

It smelled of her.

Camryn crawled onto the chair properly, ignoring the muddy boots on her feet. She curled into a tight ball, her thin shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. The cruel truth hit then. Gabriel wouldn’t be coming home. He would never come home. Gabriel was dead, and it was all her fault.

Purchase House of the Cat from Ellora’s Cave

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To read other Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the links below:

Emma Petersen
McKenna Jeffries
Vivian Arend
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Lauren Dane
Mari Carr
Lissa Matthews
TJ Michaels
Shelli Stevens
Elisabeth Naughton
Juliana Stone
Leah Braemel

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Since I discovered romance when I was about twelve, I’ve been a voracious reader. There’s something about the romantic journey and the growing intimacy between a couple that hooks me, and I’m a real sucker for a happy ending. Some people call romances trite and predictable, but I find the predictability comforting. I like knowing the couple will end up together, and I live for the moment when they admit their love for each other.

I like romances where the couple openly state their love and say the three little words—“I love you.” I’m not as keen on romances where the main couple end up happy-for-now and there’s a hint the relationship might not last. For me, it’s important the couple commit to each other. In all of the books I write, the featured couple admit their love and say, “I love you” because that’s the way I like it.

What about you? Do you need the main couple to state their love or are you fine with merely a happy ending and the implication that they love each other? Are the words important?

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