UPDATE: The winner is…Mary Preston!
*~*~*

Something I’ve learned as a writer is to keep EVERYTHING you write. Even if you think it’s crap, it might be of some use or provide inspiration in the future.

I find myself scribbling down lines of dialogue, ideas for storylines, and traits for my characters. I’ve written in notebooks, on ripped-out pages and once, I scribbled something on a napkin when I was eating lunch. I think the guy at the next table thought I was going to leave him my number… Hmm, that gives me an idea…

Anyway, when I was hunting through my notes, I came across a sweet short story I wrote for a competition run by Harlequin back in 2007. The theme was Valentine’s Day. In those days, I was a subscriber to their newsletter, and I’d look forward to reading all about the new releases and picking out which ones I’d buy. I was more of a reader and less of a writer in those days so of course I was chuffed when I received a letter informing me that I was one of two winners. And I was so excited when a box of books turned up on my doorstep as my prize.

I thought I’d share this five-minute fiction with you as part of your Sunday morning reading.

Kate’s special day

Today had been an important day in Kate’s working career and thankfully it had been successful. Her presentation had impressed her boss and Kate arrived home feeling on top of the world. Even the thought of cooking dinner, washing dishes and sweeping floors couldn’t dent her happiness.

Kate was surprised to see her husband, Brett standing in the hallway waiting for her. She grinned at him, a little confused. “Why are you looking so handsome?”

Dressed in a pale blue shirt and black trousers; Brett’s dark hair was slicked back and still damp. In his hands was a small bouquet of red roses.

“You know why,” he replied, with the smile that Kate had fallen in love with the moment they met five years earlier. He handed her the bouquet as their lips joined in a passionate kiss.

“Thank you.”

Before she could question the situation, Brett spoke. “You had better move. We have reservations for dinner in one hour.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now go!” he commanded, patting her bottom playfully.

Kate did as she was told and in record time of forty minutes she’d showered, applied fresh make-up, styled her hair and put on a rose print dress.

After checking her appearance in the mirror one last time, she went into the kitchen where Brett was waiting for her.

“Wow! You look totally gorgeous.”

“Thank you, honey.”

“Would you mind finding the cooler bag? There’s a bottle of champagne in the fridge for the restaurant.”

“Sure,” replied Kate.

All this and champagne! She really was being spoilt. Kate wondered what had sparked Brett’s sudden burst of romance and then she spied the note on the fridge. REMEMBER FEBRUARY 13^TH

She had put this note up two weeks earlier to remind herself about the presentation and Brett must’ve remembered how important this was for her. With champagne in hand and a smile on her face, Kate joined her husband in the car.

At the quiet restaurant they were seated at a nice table, each holding a champagne filled glass.

“To my beautiful wife…” Brett raised his glass in a toast.

“Thank you,” replied Kate.

“And to us!”

They clinked glasses and Kate waited for the rest of his speech as Brett sipped his champagne.

“Thanks for the note. We deserve this treat and you know how forgetful I am about these things…anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Kate’s hand flew to her mouth to hide her amusement but seconds later the laughter spilled from her.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” asked Brett, a curious expression on his face.

“Oh nothing…” Kate stammered between bursts of laughter. “Just something at work.” Kate didn’t have the heart to tell Brett the real reason for the note on the fridge. She was certain he’d discover the truth tomorrow.

Right now, she’d enjoy her own private Valentine’s Day.

Now for a hit of spice… And it’s FREE…

Mister Tradie

Mister Tradie, an Instalove vs. slow burn, steamy novella is available for FREE on Amazon and KU for the next three days

Hollie Leigh has declared she’s off men. Every last one.
She has other plans for her future. Plans that don’t include a brazen, flirtatious tradie with a BIG mouth, no matter how good looking he is.

Self-proclaimed floor specialist, Scott Morgan, is hit by the smokin’ hot babe effect, the instant he lays eyes on Hollie.
But her death stare and acerbic wit, tell him he’s got his work cut out for him.
On a whim, he offers her an arrangement. Three weeks. With him.

As a PA for a law firm, Hollie knows to check the fine print and this deal will allow her to walk away once the three-weeks are over.

Fun. Flirty. Sexy. Dirty. Mister Tradie has all that and more in his toolbox. But will it be enough to show Hollie their connection is deeper than just flirty banter and hot sex?

Want more spice?

The first three novels in my 5 Shades of Brothers Browne series are available for $1.49 each on Amazon or Free with KU.

Happy reading!

About Deb Robinson

Deb’s just a humble little writer who loves what she does. She lives with her lovely husband in their little haven in Melbourne, Australia. She loves all things romance and believes it takes many forms. Her current catalogue consists of hot, contemporary romance under two series: 5 Shades of Brothers Browne and A Sexy Tradie Novella.

Follow Deb Robinson on her official Facebook page
Follow on Twitter @DRobinsonbooks
Follow on Instagram @debrobinsonbooks
And on TikTok @debrobinsonbooks

UPDATE: The winner is…Cara!
*~*~*

Fall is here. 🙁  (I miss my pool.)

We don’t have much of one here. We had 93-degree weather just a couple of days ago, but the temperatures are definitely falling. Our nights are in the low 60s now. Leaves are falling, but we don’t get that lovely gradual process of leaves changing colors and drifting to the forest floor. Ours wither from the heat, drop into the pool, and then it’s winter. So, Fall colors are nice in pictures, but we don’t get them here!

I’m sharing a wistful, Fall-themed picture in today’s puzzle. I hope you enjoy it. For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, tell me what Fall is like where you live!

Tomorrow is the Autumnal Equinox signaling the end of summer and the start of fall. As much as I dislike cold weather, I love this time of year.

It’s time to dig out the cozy sweaters and wool socks. The heat comes on and the flannel sheets go back on the bed. (Did I mention I really dislike being cold.)

The air is crisp, and the leaves are a variety of gorgeous and vibrant colors. I may be an adult, but I love kicking the dry leaves when I go on a walk.

The fall shows come back on television and hockey season begins. (I’m Canadian so it’s hockey for me, not football.)

It also starts the holiday season, which begins in October with Thanksgiving (Canadian), Halloween, Thanksgiving (American), and Christmas. There is so much to celebrate with family and friends. My birthday falls in there too, so bonus!

For me, fall is also a time of new beginnings, even more so than January 1^st. So, it’s time to take a deep breath and embrace the new season.

Maybe you’ll curl up in a comfy chair with a cup of hot chocolate or something pumpkin spice. If you’re looking for a book to read while you’re there, you might want to check out my latest release.

Taming the White Wolf
Lone Wolf Legacy, Book 1

The lone wolf answers to no alpha or pack. From his first transformation, he knows his destiny: to be both judge and executioner for rogue werewolves. Welcome to the spellbinding first book in New York Times bestselling author N.J. Walters intense new werewolf series.

White wolf Devlin Moore has spent nearly the last century following his destiny: hunting rogue werewolves. His fate is to be the only one of his kind—hardened, feared, and brutally ruthless. Only now, Devlin’s not alone. There are two others. And if that wasn’t unsettling enough, Devlin is drawn to New York City for what appears to be a human…

As far as Devlin can tell, vibrant artist Zoe Galvani is no threat. But there’s something about her— from her unusual eyes that look similar to the same shocking hue as his own, to his growing need to mark her as his that suggests magical forces may be at play.

Now there’s no escaping each other, or the attraction that grows stronger by the second. But no one, especially a human woman, should have this effect on a lone wolf. And just when he’s sure that having her could be his undoing…the truth steps out of the shadows.

If you want to read more, you can find Taming the White Wolf here:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C7NTXG92/
Entangled Publishing: https://entangledpublishing.com/books/taming-the-white-wolf
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/taming-the-white-wolf-n-j-walters/1143634327
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/taming-the-white-wolf
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/taming-the-white-wolf/id6450183902

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, assassins, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit her at:
Website: https://www.njwalters.com
Blog: https://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Newsletter Sign Up: https://eepurl.com/gdblg5
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

Fall is here… or so the calendar says. Is anyone getting any cool weather? I mean, it’s “cooler” here, as in, it’s lower three digits (e.g., 102 as opposed to 112). But autumn has always been somewhat of a giggle season with a spotty few cool days between warm ones. We’ll take it. Of course, it’s not like we have a choice when it comes to Mother Nature unless we move. But for the sake of the season, I’m just going to pretend that all is pumpkin spice and everything thing nice and that’s what autumn in the South is made of.

With fall comes warm, comfort foods—savory soups and hearty stews. And then there’s gumbo. Gumbo isn’t a seasonal food on the bayou, and there are about a million ways to make it—from simple to complex; with rice cooked in or prepared separately. None of these variations are wrong. Well… Okay, I take that back. Having seen boiled eggs and Pop-Tarts in gumbo, those ingredients are just plain wrong, no two ways about it. Yes, I say that with my full chest, will fall on a sword, and die on a hill with a gigantic heck-no foaming from my mouth. I don’t know who would have thought to create such an abomination, but obviously, it was by someone who has been hurt deeply. (Psst, there’s no shame in seeking therapy.)

However, there is one other way considered wrong in preparing gumbo. Now, I know when I say it, many people are going to get into their feelings but hear me out. A coworker nearly argued me to the ground, but I happened to have a couple of facts and history on my side. This is the inclusion of okra. My coworker dislikes it and doesn’t include it in her gumbo. To which, I said, “Then, it isn’t gumbo.” Shots fired. She insisted that it was, and I simply replied, “Nope.” Here’s why.

Okra isn’t an optional ingredient. The word “gumbo” literally means “okra” in West African. It’s where the recipe derived its name and originates from the African word “ki ngombo.” (See, studying for the SATs pays off.) Actually, my knowing that fact isn’t all that impressive. Most people who grew up around the bayou know this. It was something I had been taught since before I could remember. My coworker was born and raised in a neighboring southern state, and her ideas of what was considered authentic Creole and Cajun food was how Tex-Mex is to authentic Mexican food. So, when I hit her with this fact, her response (which was typical of her when she realized she had no comeback) was, “Well, I don’t know about that.” She still prepares her okra-less SOUP!

I say all that because it’s been a while since I shared a recipe. When scrolling through my blog archives, I realized although I’ve discussed gumbo numerous times, it doesn’t appear that I’ve ever shared a recipe. I give fair warning that the recipe that I used and learned from my grandmother has a lot of ingredients. (Everything is from scratch except the chicken.) However, it’s fairly simple to make.

Chicken and Sauage Gumbo

Roux Ingredients:

• 1 cup all-purpose flour (Hint: Sift the flower before measuring. While adding flour to the measuring, shake the cup to distribute the flower evenly. Rake a knife over the top to press it down smoothly. This will improve the accuracy of measurement.)
• Sausage grease (Bacon dripping or vegetable oil can be substituted, but why do that when you already have the sausage?)

Roux Directions:

1. Over medium-low heat, whisk together flour and 3/4 cup sausage grease in a large pot a(a Dutch oven works well) until smooth. Be sure to whisk constantly and monitor the heat to avoid burning.
2. Cook until the roux turns a rich brown in color (approximately 20 – 30 minutes).
3. Remove from heat.

Gumbo Ingredients:

• 1/8 tsp basil
• 1/8 tsp oregano
• 1/8 tsp rosemary
• 1/8 tsp smoke paprika
• 1/8 tsp thyme
• ½ tsp dried thyme leaves
• ½ tsp black pepper
• ½ tsp cayenne pepper
• ½ tsp onion powder
• ½ tsp white pepper
• 2 tsp salt
• 2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
• 3cloves garlic (minced)
• 1 large white onion (chopped)
• 1 green bell pepper (chopped)
• 1 cup celery (chopped)
• 8 cups chicken broth
• 1 cup shredded Rotisserie chicken
• 2 ½ cups okra
• 2 lbs Andouille sausage (sliced)
• Rice

Gumbo Directions:

1. Chop onions, celery, and bell pepper to desired consistency. (I prefer a fine dice but other people prefer more coarsely chopped.)
2. Add the Holy Trinity mixture to the roux and simmer for approximately 10 minutes.
3. Add the chicken both to the roux and stir to blend well.
4. Add all of the other ingredients and cook on low 45 to 60 minutes. (Note: Some people prefer to add the rice and others prefer to cook the rice separately. If planning to add rice, be aware that more broth and a larger pot may be necessary.

That’s all I’ve got. Now, it’s your turn to sound off. What did you think? What is your take on the subject? Do you agree or disagree? Did you find this information helpful or informative? Did you learn anything new, or did it change your opinion? Let me know your thoughts in the comment section. Also, let me know if you would like me to cover more of these types of topics or dive deeper into this one. If you like this post, please click the like button and share it. Your feedback allows me to know the content that you want to read. If you’re not following me on Creole Bayou blog, what are you waiting for? There’s always room at the bayou.

Future Goals

Get ready. It’s time to hit the ice again. Future Goals has arrived and is available.

When a college hockey player needs the help of an attractive older attorney, he gets more than he bargained for when trying to sort out the troubles in his career. Falling in love was never part of either man’s plan, especially as Corrigan’s and Sacha’s lives should never have collided. Now they’re left questioning if they’re standing in the way of the other’s future goals, or if there’s room for redirection.

Order your copy at:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3RjPYb9
Other booksellers: https://bit.ly/3CI8d5W

Missed the first four books in my hockey romance series? No frets.

Out of the Penalty Box (book #1), where it is one minute in the box or a lifetime out, is available at https://amzn.to/2Bhnngw. It also can be ordered on iTunes, Nook, or Kobo. For more links on where to purchase or to read the blurb, please visit https://bit.ly/2i9SqpH.

Defending the Net (book #2) can be ordered at https://amzn.to/2N7fj8q or www.books2read.com/defending. Crossing the line could cost the game.

Ice Gladiators (book #3) is the third book in my Locker Room Love series. When the gloves come off, the games begin. Available at https://amzn.to/2TGFsyD or www.books2read.com/icegladiators.

Penalty Kill (book #4) retakes the ice. Get a copy at https://amzn.to/3ex0N9p or https://amzn.to/3ex0N9p and let the pucker begin.

For more of my stories, shenanigans, giveaways, and more, check out my blog, Creole Bayou, www.genevivechambleeconnect.wordpress.com. New posts are made on Wednesdays, and everything is raw and unscathed. Climb on in a pirogue and join me on the bayou.

If you have any questions or suggestions about this post or any others, feel free to comment below or X (formerly tweet) me at @dolynesaidso. You also can follow me on Instagram at genevivechambleeauthor or search for me on Goodreads, Amazon Authors, BookBub, Bluesky, Threads, or TikTok.

NEWSLETTER! Want to get the latest information and updates about my writing projects, giveaways, contests, and reveals first? Click https://genevivechambleeconnect.wordpress.com/newsletter/ and sign up today.

Until next time, happy reading and much romance. Laissez le bon temps rouler.

About the Author

Genevive Chamblee resides in the Bayou country where sweet tea and SEC football reign supreme. She is known for being witty (or so she thinks), getting lost anywhere beyond her front yard (the back is pushing it as she’s very geographically challenged), falling in love with shelter animals (and she adopts them), asking off-the-beaten-path questions that make one go “hmm,” and preparing home-cooked Creole meals that are as spicy as her writing. Genevive specializes in spinning steamy, romantic tales with humorous flair, diverse characters, and quirky views of love and human behavior. She also is not afraid to delve into darker romances as well.

UPDATE: The winner is…ButtonsMom!
*~*~*

I love creating heroes who are unique. They don’t always express themselves the same way or present themselves the same way. Knox Ramsey is a grumpy, gruff man who didn’t think he could be in a long-term relationship because of some issues that haunt him from his childhood. And he’s very physical. I should have added that to the word search!

Anyway, I riffed some attributes I enjoy seeing in my heroes. Have fun with the puzzle!

Then, for a chance to win a $5 Amazon GC, tell me what attributes you love to see in a hero! 

UPDATE: The winner is…Stacy Hartley!
*~*~*

Besides my series, I have written some very sexy standalone stories, too! I forget about them because I’m so busy trying to keep up with series, but I shouldn’t. In fact, I should go back and look at my workplan because I deserve to write something completely fun and one-off!

If you haven’t read the books below, now’s your time to peruse, and I’m including an excerpt from one of them so you can sample some of the fun. Several of them are menage stories, so if that’s your thing, be sure to check them out!

Contest

For a chance to win your choice of one of the books below,
tell me your weekend plans!

Click on any cover to learn more about the story!

Excerpt from Handy Men…

The impulse came like a flash of lightning—hot and searing—all the way to the bone. An idea born of a need she hadn’t felt in a long, long time…and inspired by one red-hot handyman in butt-hugging jeans and a snug T-shirt.

The man fired the militant gleam in her eyes as she brushed bronzing powder across her cheeks and swiped carmine “eat me” red lip stain across her mouth.

She didn’t give herself time to rethink the decision, reaching for the phone before her usual, cautious self reasserted control. No more couch potato cry-ins for her. No more self-imposed exclusion while she figured out what to do with the rest of her life. Today, a new Pamela Dwyer was reaching for the goddamn gusto.

The anger felt good. Especially after the shock she’d received moments ago when she’d surfed the internet for the latest gossip about her ex.

One glance at Andrew’s Facebook page, and Pamela’s confusion over what the hell had happened to her life dried up. He’d blocked her from his page, but his profile picture had been changed from Andrew’s handsome, craggy face to the soft innocence of his newborn son’s.

The picture said it all. And no doubt every one of their friends here in Austin, who’d rallied around her when he’d left, would now pour out their congratulations to him, while privately agreeing he’d done the only thing he could do to be happy.

Tears had stung her eyes, but she’d refused to let them fall. Instead, she’d blinked them away, closed out the screen and glanced through the blinds at her immaculate lawn. The perfect lawn and landscaping to surround the perfectly appointed house she’d won in the divorce settlement.

But back to that lightning strike…

Across the street, a man had stood atop a ladder while he fished leaves from old Mr. Johnson’s gutters. It wasn’t the fact the old man had spent money to hire someone to do odd jobs around his place that caught her attention, although that was plenty unusual all by itself. It was the way the sunlight glinted on the younger man’s hair. Glints of gold she could see from over thirty feet away. And once her attention was snagged by that halo-like glow, her gaze couldn’t help but trail down the long, lean, buff lines of his healthy frame.

From the back, the man was perfection. Then he’d turned to the side, no doubt to say something to Mr. Johnson who hovered at the bottom of the ladder. The old skinflint would supervise the handyman to make sure he got every nickel’s worth of his money. However, not a hint of irritation showed in the handyman’s expression. His smile had been quick—a flash of white teeth against a tanned face.

Pamela had breathed deeply, enjoying the surge of heat flowing through her veins. So much better than the cold, hollow feeling in her womb. Arousal had bloomed, fresh and unexpected, washing over her, lapping away the disappointment. Leaving her…expectant. Feeling younger than her thirty-eight years.
There were times in a woman’s life when she had to grab the bull by the horns or she’d never taste passion again. Pamela decided then and there that her time was now.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell chimed.

Christ, do I really have the guts? She’d had twenty minutes to get icy cold feet.

She held her hand in front of her face and blew against her palm then sniffed. Mouthwash still works.

Before opening her door, Pamela bent over, shook her head then straightened, giving her straight blonde hair an extra fluff. She pasted on a smile—not too wide or eager—one she’d practiced in front of the bathroom mirror to make sure it reflected just the right amount of casual interest. She didn’t want to scare him away. At least not before she had a chance to practice being a femme fatale.

However, after opening the door, her smile faltered just a bit. Up close, the repairman was more of a rangy lion than a bull, and even more attractive than her secretive glances through the blinds had revealed. Thickly muscled arms and a broad chest stretching a green Handy Men tee filled her vision.

Maybe she should have targeted someone more in her league—and at least fifteen years older. However, when she’d seen him working on the rain gutters of her neighbor’s house and watched the way he moved gracefully up and down the ladder, a plan had begun to form. One she was too invested in to back out of now.

“Your neighbor said you were havin’ trouble with a garbage disposal?”

Good Lord, his voice was deep and sinful. Her greedy glance shot up to meet his, and she noted the crinkles of amusement at the sides of his eyes. Blue eyes with golden coronas around the pupils. Yum.

Realizing her mouth hung open, she snapped her jaw closed. “Uh, yes. Trouble with the disposal. That’s why you’re here.”

It was the truth, so she didn’t stutter over it. However, she didn’t mention she’d thrown a handful of screws into the sink to make sure the old disposal seized. Her plan to lure him into her house was working like a charm. She wished her ex could see her now. Plain Pam, reliable Pam, boring, defective Pam had a few tricks left.

“I’m Jeff McCaffrey,” he said, and held out his hand.

Blowing out a little breath to release her tension, she gave him her hand and shook. “Pamela,” she said quickly.

His palms were callused and large. She slid her hand slowly from his, enjoying the scrape. Even if things didn’t work out, she’d have plenty of sensory details to savor later to go along with the lovely picture he made.

“Um…” He lifted the toolbox with a flex of impressive biceps and raised his eyebrows.

It took a second to register that he needed her to move away from the door. Feeling flustered, she stood back and waved him inside. She closed the door behind him and followed eagerly on his heels into the hallway.

He halted abruptly.

Unable to stop her forward momentum, Pamela held out her hands to brace herself—and cupped his ass.

His head swiveled to glance back at her, a slight, dazed smile curving his mouth.

She paused a second too long before removing them, but it was his own damn fault. His ass was too much temptation for her to resist a little squeeze. “Sorry about that,” she muttered, palms and face burning. Lord, she was thirty-eight, and he had her blushing like a teenager. Her flirting skills were woefully rusty.

He cleared his throat and pointed toward the door on the left. “The kitchen?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding a little winded, but her fingers tingled and her skin felt on fire. She hadn’t wanted to come on to the younger man like a cougar in heat, but he was fine-fine-fine.

He swung open the door and walked to the counter, where he set his toolbox beside the sink. “What sort of noises was it makin’?”

“Crunchy?”

“Crunchy?” His lips twitched.

She shrugged. He was the “Mr. Fix-It”. He’d figure out soon enough what the problem was. Maybe he’d think the screws in the disposal had gotten there by accident.

He reached beneath the cabinet next to the sink and flipped the switch.

Metallic grating made her wince. The poor thing ground worse than her ex’s teeth.

Without looking back, he said, “Don’t touch the switch. I don’t have my tongs, so I’m gonna stick my hand down there to see what’s happenin’.”

In his hand went, and he turned slightly to the side, his gaze meeting hers while a frown drew his honey-brown brows together. When he pulled free, he held a screw. “Wonder how that happened?” he drawled.

She grinned brightly. “Serendipity?”

“Wha—?”

So maybe not a brain surgeon, or even much of a reader, but the calculated stare he returned told her he wasn’t stupid. He pulled out another and laid it on the countertop, and then another. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me, Pamela?”