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Showing posts with label after Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label after Christmas. Show all posts

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Sweet Saturday Sample: Oh, I Know!

I know Christmas is over, but I'm still reading the Christmas books I bought, so maybe you are too.  Why not?  The story is still good.  So, I'm sharing an excerpt from my Christmas release The Table in the Window.  Table is a long short story.

The minute they left the building the wind assaulted them. “My teeth are ch…ch…chattering,” Marley stutterered.

Mentally crossing his fingers for luck, Rob put his arm around her and hugged her close. “It’s only a little way to the theater.”

Marley was either too cold to mind, or she really didn’t mind, because she didn’t move away from him. By the time they reached the theater, Rob felt as warm as toast, and it didn’t have a thing to do with the weather. She felt so small, so feminine, snuggled into his side. His arm tightened around her as he breathed in her warm female scent.

Thanks for stopping by!

Buy link: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_c_1_15?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=the+table+in+the+window+by+elaine+cantrell&sprefix=the+table+in+th%2Caps%2C307

Friday, December 23, 2011

I Used to Make These! So Good!

Hi, my name is Matt McCallum.  Elaine told my and my wife's story in her book A New Dream.  We wanted to give her a break, so we've taken over her blog during the month of December.  We've designated this week as recipe week.  We contacted some of Elaine's author friends who've kindly agreed to provide a recipe for us. Today's recipe is from Chris Redding.

And I'm Violet McCallum.  I operate a catering company, and I've used a similiar recipe many times.  Do try these.  You won't be sorry if you do!  They'd be great for Super Bowl parties too.  My husband used to play for the Green Bay Packers, so Super Bowl celebrations are big at our house.  Anyway, here's Chris's recipe.


Cheese Puff Appetizers



I bring these to potluck parties. They are usually a big hit.



Ingredients:

2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

2 cups shredded low fat cheddar cheese

1 cup butter (I sometimes use Smart Balance)

2 cups all purpose flour

2 dashes Worcestershire Sauce (You can substitute Chipotle Tabasco Sauce)

2 (5 oz) jars of green olives (Kalamata olives work well also.)


Directions:

  1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.  Lightly grease a cookie sheet.
  2. In a small bowl, mix together cheese, butter , flour, and Worcestershire sauce. Knead the dough. Pinch the dough into small balls, flatten them in the palm ofyour hand, then roll each circle of dough around one olive. Arrange the wrapped olives on the prepared cookie sheet.
  3. Bake for 15 minutes until lightly brown.

Enjoy either warm or cold.

And now let's have an excerpt from Chris's book Blonde Demolition. You can buy the book at

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=blonde+demolition+by+chris+redding&x=24&y=28

Mallory Sage's heart raced at the sight before her—a bomb.
It had all the parts necessary to blow up the beer trailer and everything nearby—including her fellow firefighters at the Coleville Volunteer Fire Company.
Adrenaline and anger streaked through her.
She called to her chief. "Jesse, get out."
I won't lose you. Not now. Not like this.
Jesse Moran backed away from her, licked his lips and then moved in her direction. "Get out of here, Mal."
Her heart sank. Even in the face of a bomb, her lover was willing to protect her. She clenched and unclenched her fists, her breath coming out in pants. "Not without you, Jesse."
Without taking her eyes off Jesse, she shouted to another firefighter" Call 911. Tell them we need the bomb squad."
When Jesse reached her, she yanked him out. He had a hundred pounds on her. She had the element of surprise. "Get me wire cutters."
Jesse looked at her as though she had three heads.
"Do it."
He shook his head. "No, you don't know what you're doing."
She made eye contact with one of the bystanders. "Get me wire cutters and clear everyone out of here. Make sure no workers are on the fairgrounds."
The last thing the struggling fire company needed was to lose this fair. It was their sole fund raising effort. These guys missed dinners and family events to put out fires and some jerk with a penchant for bombs couldn't be allowed to do that to them.
What if this is just the beginning?

Oh, wow, that's so exciting!  Chris, thanks for sharing.  Matt and I are putting it on our to be read list.  I hope each and every one of you has a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Six Sentence Sunday

Hello!  Thanks for dropping by.  I appreciate your feedback very much.  Today's excerpt comes from my Christmas story The Table in the Window.  Astraea Press is publishing it, and they say it'll be out on Black Friday if all goes well.  The cover is only a proof.  In this excerpt, my hero who works at a restaurant finally gets the chance to talk to the girl he's admired for a year.


“Uh, is there anything else?” she asked.
He smiled at her.  “My shift’s over.  If I’m not bothering you, I wondered if you’d like some company for lunch.”  His eyes twinkled.  “In case you’re wondering, you’re the first customer I’ve made that offer to.”

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

The Best Selling Toy Of The Season Excerpt 2


On November 7 I posted part 1 of Chapter 1 in my Christmas novel The Best Selling Toy Of The Season. Today, I'd like to post part 2. If you like the book, it's available at http://www.midnightshowcase.com

For a minute Tommy couldn't remember what he wanted.

“Cat got your tongue?” the young woman cheerfully inquired. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”

“I…don’t know, I mean, I don’t think so,” Tommy floundered, mentally kicking himself for allowing a beautiful woman to reduce him to the level of a gauche freshman.

“Well, what do you want? I’m too busy to just stand here and talk. You aren’t trying to pick me up are you? You’re tall, dark, and handsome as they say, but I’ve sworn off men. Every time I get involved with one it turns out bad. Your hair is as black as can be. You don’t dye it, do you?”

“Uh, no, I don’t dye it.”

“You won’t tell me what you want, so I’ll have to guess. You look like you might be an athlete, so I expect you want sporting goods. Follow this red line on the floor, and it’ll take you where you want to go.”

“No,” Tommy replied hastily. “That isn’t it. I want a gag gift.”

“Let me think.”

Tommy waited in silence for a moment or two. “I know just the thing,” she assured him. Follow me.”

She led Tommy to the lingerie department that didn’t please him at all. It embarrassed him to look at underwear with a beautiful woman.

She went down aisle five and selected a box from the shelf. “Here you go. This is a perfect gag gift unless you’re going to a church party. It might be a little over the top for church. Not that I think it’s bad myself, but ministers might. What do you think?”

“I don’t know what it is so it’s hard to have an opinion,” Tommy pointed out.

The girl handed him the box. “It’s a passion meter. You hold the round glass part in your hand, and your body heat causes the red liquid to rise in this little tube. You know; like mercury in a thermometer, but see on the side here? It tells you what kind of lover you are based on how far your body heat makes the liquid rise. Take it
out of the box and try it.”

“I don’t need to do that.”

“Oh, you might as well. Don’t you want to know?”

Well…

The woman removed the device from the box and handed it to him. “Wrap your hand around the glass bulb.”

Tommy did as she instructed. Suddenly the liquid boiled and shot
straight to the top of the glass tube.

“Look at you,” the woman laughed. “You measured red hot super
stud.”

Tommy’s face turned a color very similar to the red liquid, and a
fit of laughter so intense that she had to hold the shelf for support
seized his lovely companion. “You’re awfully shy, aren’t you? I guess you weren’t trying to pick me up after all. Is there anything more that I can show you?”

“No, but thank you for helping me.” Why did she have to laugh at him? No man wanted a beautiful woman to make fun of him.

“Merry Christmas,” she said and bustled away.

Tommy glanced at his watch; he was going to be late. He hurried to the checkout line, and there time stood still. Every register had an enormous line, and it took forever to check out even one customer.

Finally, his turn came. He thankfully paid for his gag gift and joined the throngs of people either going out or coming in. He saw Bill English and lifted his hand to wave goodbye, but he didn’t see the woman in front of him until he plowed into her. Both he and the young woman who had helped him find his gift went sprawling to the
floor. Something in her bag broke with a loud crash when Tommy’s
knee smashed into it.

All the Super Mart employees in the vicinity came running, including Bill English. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m fine,” Tommy assured him as visions of lawsuits danced in his head. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

To his horror, the young woman burst into tears. “You’ve ruined everything! Teddy and Michael are going to be so disappointed, and I guess they’ll stop believing in Santa Claus, but you don’t care.”

She jerked her bag toward her and held out two broken toys for Tommy to see. “These robots are all that my boys asked for this year. I put them on layaway back in September, and I finished paying for them today. They’re the best selling toy of the season. You can’t find them anywhere, and now you’ve broken mine.”

She shot Tommy a look of bitter enmity. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, she scrambled to her feet and stalked out of the store.

“Be ashamed,” lectured one of the customers. “You ruined her boys’ Christmas.”

“Yeah,” a man in the crowd contributed. “You could at least have offered to pay for it.”

The Super Mart employee nodded their agreement. “Look at the way he’s dressed. He’s got money to burn. He won’t even pay for Nikki’s loss, and it was all his fault.”

The crowd drifted away, and Bill picked up Tommy’s bag and handed it to him. “It was an accident, Tommy. I know you didn’t mean to do it.”

“Who was that woman? I’ll go back to the toy department and buy two more robots to replace the ones I broke. Give me her name and address, and I’ll have them sent to her tonight.”

Bill shook his head. “She told you the truth. Everybody’s sold out of those little robots. You can’t buy them anywhere.”

A look of determination came to rest on Tommy’s face. If Bill had ever seen Tommy in court, he would have recognized it immediately. Many of Tommy’s legal opponents shivered when this expression crossed his face, for as one of them put it, ‘A rottweiller would turn a steak loose quicker than he’d give up when he looks like
that.’

“You let me worry about finding the toys. What’s her name and address?”

“Her name is Nikki Lane, and she lives in trailer number five in Higgins Court.”

“Nikki Lane. Isn’t she Dan Wakefield’s cousin?”

“Yeah, she is.”

“I thought so. Dan trains my horse, and he asked me to get her no account boyfriend to pay child support. Did they ever get married?”

Bill laughed shortly. “No, not hardly. He pays Nikki because he knows that he has to, but he doesn’t want anything to do with her or the boys.”

“Why not? Is he blind? She’s drop dead gorgeous.”

“Oh, you should have seen her six months ago. She dyed her hair brassy blonde and frizzed it all over her head, she wore enough makeup for three people, and her clothes made her look like a…well, you know.”

“What happened to her?”

“Her cousin came to visit and gave her a few pointers.”

“Oh. Could you write down the name of the toy for me?”

“Sure, but don’t hold your breath. I don’t think you can find them anywhere.”

Bill took his pen out and found a piece of paper. He scribbled down the name and manufacturer of the robots and handed it to Tommy. “Good luck. Let me know how it turns out.”

“Thanks. I will.”

Tommy took his leave of Bill and hurried outside. The snow fell heavily now, and his car felt icy. He turned on the heater and took out his cell phone. “Hurry up and answer,” he impatiently muttered.

“Hello?” Uh oh. Cherie sounded annoyed.

“Cherie, it’s Tommy.”

“Where are you, Tommy? We’re going to be late, and this is important to me.” Yes, he had ticked her off.

“Well, that’s what I’m calling about. I’m in the middle of a crisis, and I can’t make it tonight.”

“What!”

“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you later, but I have something to do that just can’t wait.” He hadn’t lied either. If he could help it, those little boys wouldn’t be disappointed on Christmas morning.

“Oh, all right! I’ll call Mark Masters to escort me. I’m sure that he won’t turn me down.”

“Thanks, Cherie. I appreciate it. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.”

He tossed the phone into the console of his car and carefully entered the stream of traffic. It took a little longer than usual to reach home because of the weather, and he sighed in relief as his car came to a halt in the garage. He never had liked driving in the snow.

He wished he hadn’t knocked the woman over, but he felt so thankful to avoid that party. He threw his coat and gag gift onto the sofa as he passed through his living room and immediately seated himself at his computer to start his search for the elusive robots.

Friday, December 25, 2009

Command Center AKA My Christmas List Was Strangely Calm


If you were reading my blog last year you know that right after Christmas I resolved to simplify things because I almost killed myself with too many commitments and too much cooking and entertaining. I'm happy to say that I kept that resolve. How did I change things? Here goes.

First of all, I omitted a couple of parties. These particular parties were things we went to because we felt obligated to do so, not because we particularly wanted to. This year we politely declined.

Second, we usually have a quick lunch with our good friends on Christmas Eve. That was when we exchanged presents. We never had enough time because we had to rush away to cook for a dinner that night. (You really wouldn't believe my schedule. If you'd like to check last year's blog you can see for yourself.) This year we had dinner with them on the twenty third instead. We had plenty of time to exchange gifts, talk, and enjoy each other's company.

Third, I ordered some food this year instead of cooking everything from scratch. Our local grocer baked my turkey, cooked my stuffing, and made the gravy. A local bakery baked pumpkin and apples pies for me, and I bought frozen sausage biscuits, brownie bites from Atlanta Bread Company, pita chips and artichoke-spinach dip, and a fruit cake from Costco. My tropical fruit salad came from a can.

I did a ham from scratch as well as a macaroni, but that's it unless you count coffee and tea.

Was the food as good? Almost, but not quite. The fruit cake was awful, though, and the pumpkin pie was nowhere as good as mine. Did it matter? No, not at all. Everyone ate, drank, and laughed just as much as if I'd done the whole thing from scrach as I did last year.

I gave as many gifts as ever, but I ordered some of them instead of going to the store to buy them. I also gave gift cards to some of my hard to buy for people instead of wracking my brain looking for something they wouldn't like anyway.

I didn't skimp on decorations, and I still used my Christmas china which I had to drag out and wash the same as usual, but these things are too special to skimp on.

Will I do the same thing next year? You betcha. I like having enough energy to enjoy myself instead of feeling exhausted. I even plan to go shopping tomorrow to exchange a couple of gifts.

I guess what I've learned is that I should pick and choose where to invest my time and energy. Some things are worth going all out for and some aren't. From now on I'm going to figure out which is which.

I hope you had a wonderful Christmas.

Friday, December 26, 2008

The Day After Christmas


Okay, Christmas is over, passing in a blur of laughter, food, friends and family, wrapping paper, and cranky, over-stimulated children. It was totally glorious, but I’m so tired I can hardly move. I’m so worn out I’m even thinking that next year I might BREAK SOME TRADITIONS!

Gasp! What horror! How could you? We’ve always done it this way! Yeah, well, my reply is I’m doing it out of self-preservation. Here’s the schedule; see what you think of it.

On Christmas Eve morning we go to my sister-in-law’s house for breakfast. It’s such a lovely gesture on her part. We don’t have to bring a thing. We just go and enjoy eating and being with the family. But we can’t stay as long as we’d like because we have to have to meet our best friends at lunch time to exchange gifts. We can’t visit as long as we’d like with them because we have to get home to cook for the Christmas Eve dinner.

We’d like to take a little nap, but we can’t because if we deviate from our schedule even one little bit we’ll be up half the night catching up.

We have dinner on Christmas Eve with my husband’s family, but we can’t stay as long as we’d like because we have to hurry home to cook for tomorrow morning.

On Christmas morning we have to get up by six o’clock because we have my family coming for breakfast. All we have to do this morning is make coffee and tea, bake a casserole, and warm up the things we cooked last night. The breakfast isn’t fancy, but we do have plenty of it. We’d like to have some more coffee after we get the presents opened, but we can’t because we have to get the house straightened out for dinner. We also have to bake and carve the turkey.

By three everyone is arriving. We eat too much, open some more presents and just generally have a good time. This is the one gathering during the past two days where we don’t have to hurry. After everyone leaves we have to take out the garbage, wash the dishes, scour the kitchen, sweep up the grass and dirt tracked in, and finally we’re finished.

And I haven’t even mentioned washing the Christmas china, pulling out linens, and advance baking I did before Christmas Eve rolled around.

As I said, it’s glorious, but I’m wondering if maybe next year I can cut a few corners. I have to use the Christmas china. I love it so, there’s no compromise there. Now about the food… Who says that I have to bake the turkey? I have a friend who does turkeys for people; I’ll get him to do it. And who says that I have to bake all the desserts? I know a lady who owns a bakery. Why not buy some baked goods from her?

And that breakfast. I love it dearly, but why not simplify the menu a bit? I mean, do we really need four different desserts? I wonder if our friends would be willing to do our gift exchange at a different time, a time when nobody has to rush off.

We’ll see. Maybe I'll remember for next year, but maybe not.

Hope all of you had as wonderful a time as I did.