Home for the Holiday Blog Hop: Spicy Cheese Cookies!

UPDATE!!

And the winner is...

Hang on, my daughter's choosing...

And the winner is...

NIKKI McCARVER!!!!

I can't thank you all enough for making my first blog hop and contest such a huge success! I'll definitely be doing this again soon. Happy Holidays!!!

~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~

Welcome to the Home for the Holidays blog hop, Ella Sheridan edition! We all know when the weather gets cold, we want something HOT. *ahem* To eat, of course. Oh goodness, that probably wasn't good either, but you KNOW what I mean. ;)

Anyway, one of my favorite holiday treats, and one I love making and giving away as gifts (but not too many, otherwise there isn't enough to eat!) are these Spicy Southern Cheese Cookies. The recipe came from my brother-in-law's side of the family, and they are awesome! They are also much easier to make than you might think, especially if you have the kids help roll them into balls.

Spicy Southern Cheese Cookies

1/2 lb. grated sharp cheddar cheese          2 1/2 c. all-purpose flour

1 c. softened butter (2 sticks)                  1/2 tsp. paprika

1/2 tsp. garlic salt                                    3/4 tsp. red pepper

Add all ingredients into a large mixing bowl. The amount of pepper listed gives you a spicy cookie, but for my family, who prefers things on the milder side, I use about 1/2 tsp. Once all ingredients are incorporated, cover and chill in the refrigerator for 2-3 hours. Remove from fridge, scoop out using a tablespoon, and roll the mix into a ball by hand. Place approximately 2 inches apart on an ungreased cookie sheet. Flatten each ball by pressing lightly with a fork. Bake at 400 degrees for 10-15 minutes. If they start to brown, take them out -- browning is not good with cheese cookies! Cool and enjoy!

And to go with your spicy, savory treat, here's an excerpt from my current release, Dirty Little Secret. Both are sure to spice up your holidays. ;) And don't forget to check back on Christmas Eve when the sequel, Naughty Little Christmas, an even spicier offering, is released!

~ ~ ~ ~ Excerpt ~ ~ ~ ~

A pause in the cacophony was followed by the sultry sound of a sax filtering across the dance floor. Cailin stopped to catch her breath at the sound. She hadn’t been completely alone as she danced; several men had approached, partnered her for a few minutes, then left, leaving her available for another dance, another partner. She’d thought she would feel awkward dancing with strangers, but she didn’t. She enjoyed it. And she didn’t feel like a slut, either.

As the timbre of the music worked its way into her bones, she let her body move, sway, absorb the pleasure of sense and sound. When broad, heavy palms landed on her rocking hips, she startled. She whipped her head around, only to meet the darkest, sexiest brown eyes she’d ever seen. They blazed with emotion in a face that put Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, and every other Sexiest Man Alive to absolute shame. Her mouth opened in a soft “oh” as she stared.

God, he was beautiful.

And then he smiled. It was soft, secretive, sexy. Steaming. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but his grip kept her upright. Then his body made contact with hers—full-body contact, her back, point by point, met by the muscled heat of his chest, stomach, thighs. A gasp escaped as his pelvis brushed the base of her spine and an unmistakably rigid bulge made itself known. The next moment, she was lost in the intensity of his touch.

Her head turned to the side, Cailin tried to smile, but nerves and something else had wicked the moisture from her lips. He moved against her, his hips more agile than Patrick Swayze’s in Dirty Dancing, and nuzzled his sharp nose against the cheek closest to him.

“Hi.”

Her head reeled, her tongue tied itself in a firm knot, and she wished the solid floor beneath her would do her a favor and swallow her whole. Fast. “Hi.”

And then she gave herself up to the music. Talking was impossible, but moving wasn’t. And it felt delicious. She melted into the firm body supporting her, countered the sway of his hips, and fell in love with a man she’d spoken only one word to. Of course, she only loved him for his body. Nothing could compare. Nothing could ever feel as good as he felt against her. His arms circled her waist, his hands flat on the soft curve of her stomach. She wanted them on her breasts. On her mound. Between her legs. The music made love to her, one beat at a time, and he partnered it perfectly until her brain couldn’t think, couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. Didn’t want to. All she wanted was for this moment to last forever.

Which, of course, it couldn’t.

At the music’s final note, the man turned her in his arms, his tight grip pulling her into his body until her front was as firm against him as her back had been. She looked up—and up. Her head tilted back farther than she’d imagined it would have to in order to meet those chocolate eyes. He had to be at least six-four, much taller than Sean—

No, she wouldn’t think about Sean tonight. In the fantasy world she’d created, Sean no longer existed. He belonged to tomorrow and reality. Now was for sweet heat and the fantasy lover staring down at her.

“I’m Alex,” he said. His voice was a mix of gravel and velvet, the sound clenching her womb. Cailin blushed as a rush of hot moisture coated her inner thighs.

“Cailin.”

Alex tucked his head down to hear her, and at her name, he turned, eye to eye, his wide pupils mesmerizing her. Time stopped. Sound receded. And then he wet his bottom lip with a slick pink tongue. “Nice to meet you, Cailin.”

That seductive smile flashed again, so close she could touch it, taste it, before he straightened. The press of the heavy wall of his chest into her sensitive breasts brought a moan to her lips, one she abruptly cut off as soon as she realized what she’d done. Jeez, Cailin. Get it together. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact his eyes heated further, and he rubbed lightly against her. In the back of her mind was the thought that if anyone else had pulled that move, she would have to remove his balls with her knee, but with Alex, it felt right. She didn’t know why. It just did.

Music swelled again, and Alex took control, moving her against him, the subtle rubbing of their bodies the most sensual foreplay she’d ever experienced. She knew in that moment that she would have sex with this man. If he wanted her—and the erection still going strong between them said he did—she would have him. She wouldn’t lose this opportunity. Guess she’d found her courage…in his arms.

The minutes passed with no regard to how much she wanted them to pause. As the next song came to an end, she realized they were close to the edge of the dance floor. Alex stepped aside, took her hand in his, and led her toward what looked like a dark hallway heading off to one side. Cailin balked, some unwanted feminine instinct waking her to reality and danger, but Alex soothed her. “Offices. The owner’s a friend of mine. I thought we could talk someplace quieter.”

Turning for a last look at the crowded dance floor, she followed him down the long hall, berating herself for the stupidity of the move but unable—or unwilling—to say no. Something deep down in her soul, some gut feeling she thought she’d lost when her marriage fell to pieces, trusted this man. Maybe it was the way he seemed to read her mind, to know what she needed before she did. The way he anticipated every move, as if even a breath didn’t escape his notice. She’d never felt like the center of a man’s entire concentration. She wanted more, wanted to bask in the intensity of Alex’s attention.

And the occasional employee passing them assured her they weren’t completely alone. If she screamed, someone would hear. Wouldn’t they?

A wide, heavy door marked, appropriately enough, OFFICE waited at the end of the passageway. Alex knocked, and a dark-haired man with classic playboy looks opened the door. The surprise on his face eased more of her worry. So this wasn’t a regular occurrence; thank God, even if she did want to sink through the floor in embarrassment.

“Damien, could I—”

“No problem.” The man didn’t ask for an explanation, and his cheeky grin said he didn’t need any. “Just lock up when you leave.” He nodded politely at Cailin before turning to walk back the way they’d come.

Alex gave a rueful snort and dragged her inside. The minute the door clicked shut, he had her backed against its unforgiving surface.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered roughly. “I need—”

Cailin kissed him before he could finish.

~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~

Each comment with an e-mail address will be entered in the Grand Prize Giveaway from The Romance Troupe. (First Prize = $450 + Gift Card; Second Prize = one ebook from EVERY participating author!) So comment for a chance to win big!!!

And there's more. Yes, MORE! One lucky commenter will win a $15 gift card from Amazon or Barnes & Noble for some holiday shopping! Want more than one entry? There are two more easy ways to be entered for the prize:

1. Sign up for my newsletter and get a second chance at the prize!

2. Friend me on Facebook for a third chance at the prize. Be sure to message me with your e-mail address so I can contact you if you win -- and let me know if you like the cookies! I love to get to know new readers. :)

The winner of the Amazon/B&N gift card will be notified Sunday, November 17, 2013. And keep an eye out for that big TRT winner -- it's a doozy (and second place ain't bad, either)!

*UPDATE: For some reason I was thinking the end of the hop was on Sunday. It's not -- it's Monday! So I'll be announcing my winner on Monday as well. That's an extra day to get your chances to win in, and to pass the info on to friends if you'd like. Keep an eye on your e-mail Monday evening for the notification!

Ella

Check out more Home for the Holiday recipes (and more chances to win) at The Romance Troupe Home for the Holidays blog hop list!

Veteran's Day

Bravery doesn't mean you aren't scared. It means you go anyway.

It All Started With...

…this comment about a road sign. Dani, my twin sis and fellow author, remarked on it as we drove down the road toward our hotel the first day in Ireland. It looked like this: She’d seen it before, in Scotland. The “picnicking in the middle of the highway” sign, she called it, or as I affectionately refer to it, the “large Tron robots ahead” sign. “They have a lot of weird signs over here,” she said. “Like the one in the airport?” I asked. “Exactly.”

What sign in the airport, you might ask? This one:

I noticed it right off. “What does that mean?” No one else in our group knew. A bit giddy from a fourteen-hour trip and almost no sleep, I said, “It means…flee!” “Run very fast this way!” Dani said. And we laughed like drunken hyenas.

And thus began our journey into the Wacky World of Irish (and English) Signs. Scroll down to journey through this wacky world with us; then hop over to Dani’s page to see even more. It’s totally worth it, I assure you. :)

And we begin with:

Apparently “Enter” isn’t clear enough. But hey, way to declare yourself in the “in” crowd—not just “in,” but “way in.”

I would not have expected to find a Georgia Bull Dawgs fan in the middle of Ireland, but there it was. Of course, the same town had two pizza restaurants, one named Kentucky and one named Apache Pizza. What can I say?

This restaurant sign was my favorite, found somewhere in London near the end of our trip. For those who can’t see it clearly, it says, “Hummus Bros” and below, “Give Peas A Chance”. I can’t help but picture dozens of tiny peas bouncing up and down, begging, “Pease, pease eat us!” Dani: With French accents, like in Veggie Tales. ;)

Note the reference to accommodations in the pic above. Apparently Hussey doesn’t have to go far to get her "gig" on. Right upstairs, in fact. Convenient. Dani: It gives a whole new meaning to “Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am!”

The road signs, like the one we started out with, were particularly interesting. The one below I gathered to mean “Old-fashioned photos ahead."

Dani: Because we all need pictures of ourselves driving, right?

And then there’s this:

I can’t figure out if this is an instruction (“Yield!") or a warning (“Something’s about to give way! Watch out!”)

I’m not sure what it is about Europeans and arrows, but these...

...are particularly, um, unpointed. In fact, you might call them…flaccid. Or half-mast and decidedly uninterested, not sure which. Dani: How about floppy?

Speaking of flaccid:

I had to nab this one off their website since we walked by here way past dark, and trust me, around midnight, it looks a lot dirtier than it does in this picture. Talk about false advertising. Dani: Hey, I wanted to stop...

What is it with the penis references? Jeez. Apparently only the British have “Great Knobs.” ^_^ Dani: Or dirty ones. All I can think about when I see this is, Great Knobs of Fire! A new kind of burn. :p Of course the idea of the British having “greater knobs” might be played out by something our Irish tour guide, D, said about midway through the trip. We’d stopped at a buffet restaurant hanging over the cliffs on the Ring of Kerry, and it just so happened that the line for food snaked past the men’s restroom (or toilet, as they say over there). It was one of those with the little hall leading to the door, so all that could be seen was the opposite wall, nothing exciting. D, however, came up about the time I passed said door and firmly closed it. “We don’t want that open, now, do we?” she said. I shrugged. “I figured I couldn’t see anything, so I wasn’t worried about it.” D huffed. “Well why would you want to? Nothing to see, really. I mean, you’ve seen it all before, haven’t you?” And then she wandered off, leaving me staring, wide-eyed, after her. Apparently Irish “knobs” are a bit less “great”; once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. Dani: According to her... I'd like to see one, just to be sure. Ah-hem. Onward. Speaking of food, there’s no better way to describe a chip than:

Really? Apparently even the makers couldn't figure out what these were! Okay, okay, I could go on forever. But thankfully I don’t have to, since Dani has more great signs over on her blog today. So slide…

…on over to Dani’s website and continue the amusement. (No climbing, food, dangling your toes in the water, or hand shaking, though!) Hope you enjoyed all these wotsits—and Dani’s—as much as I did!

Those Who Walk Beside You

My first published book comes out on Tuesday. Dirty Little Secret will release from Loose Id, and it's one of the most exciting moments of my career as an author, one of those "firsts" I'll remember for the rest of my life. And it wouldn't have happened without the people who walk beside me in this writing life.

I've been blessed to have one very important influence in my life as an author beside me since the moment I was conceived. My twin sister, Dani Wade, didn't look at me funny when I spent some of our teenage years writing stories. She went to college with me, almost all the same classes even, earning identical degrees in English Literature. She has loved me and allowed me to lean on her when life got in the way and I was trying to find myself, to grow and discover who I really was -- heck, when I was just trying to keep my head above water sometimes! And when I followed her on this path to writing and sent her my first novel, she didn't poo-poo the idea or put down my skill or jump down my throat about crowding into what had been "her" area of expertise for so long.

She encouraged me. She taught me. She still serves as guide and mentor and critique partner and plotting partner and accountability partner and so much more. I would not be where I am today without her. When I think of my best friend, it has always been her, and I can't thank her enough for all she has meant in my life. I love you, sis! You have given me so much; I can't express how much you mean to me.

I was also blessed a couple of years ago (God, has it really been that long?) to meet an amazing writer who has been a source of encouragement to me on a leg of this journey that has involved a lot of rejection, frustration, and confusion. Gina L. Maxwell came into my life when I sent her an e-mail out of the blue one day in response to an old ad for a critique partner she'd posted online. I didn't even know if she'd answer me, but she did, and we struck up a friendship. We've only managed to meet twice in "real" life, but I have learned a lot from this friend. She is something I definitely am not -- outgoing, lol! She connects with people, with readers in a way I don't know if I ever can (she has a gift, let me tell ya!). I admire the way the most beautiful writing just flows from her fingertips, the just-right turn of phrase, the totally HOT alpha males she can create. But most of all I admire how genuine she is. She's all out there, and gives of herself generously to readers and friends alike. She's the one who read Dirty Little Secret and said, "I love this book! But girlfriend...that ending? Uh, no, it's gotta go!" :) So it did. This book would not have sold without her honesty and her encouragement. Thanks, girlie! I'm grateful we were born at a time when becoming friends didn't rely on living close together, because I wouldn't want my life to lack your spark. ;)

Writing is a journey. It doesn't happen overnight, and (hopefully) it doesn't end with the publishing of a single book. To be an author, you have to be in it for the long haul, and I am. But as much as I have the drive to do what I love, my family doesn't love writing! They have their own loves, but guess what? They get dragged along behind my job, just like all our families have to deal with the peculiarities of our jobs. But they have stepped up to support me in every way they can. My two kids ask about how my books are going, do their best not to interrupt when I'm on a deadline, step up to help out when I'm in a crunch and need extra hands to get everything done. My husband is...amazing. I know many authors whose husbands do not support their writing, who get jealous of the time this work takes despite the fact that those same husbands get to do the jobs they want to do. My husband has a demanding job, but he doesn't begrudge me the pursuit of my dream. He doesn't complain that my work makes me as busy as him at times. He doesn't give me a hard time when I disappear for hours with my computer and my characters and leave him holding the responsibility for the household. We work together to make our family all it can be, and he gives my work the same respect I give his. I could not ask for more when it comes to a life mate. I am truly blessed with my children and my husband. They "get" me in a way many writers are not gifted with in their family. Thank you so much, guys. Thank you for enduring the fast-food dinners, the distraction when I'm off in my own world, the stress when I'm trying to meet a deadline. I love you all more than I can say. I can only pray I support your dreams as much as you have supported mine.

On Tuesday, when Dirty Little Secret is released, it will have my name on the cover. The words inside will be mine (well, along with suggestions from my editor -- thanks, Rory!). But in reality, it wasn't just me that wrote this book. It was me, and all the people who walk beside me, every day, every step. They'll walk beside me during this special moment and hopefully many more. They say it takes a village to raise a child; maybe it takes a village to raise and support an author as well. I know I'm very thankful for mine.

Blog Visit: Get What You Want, Part 1---Are We Being Busy or Fruitful?

Kristen Lamb talks about getting a handle on the demon of time. Great blog!  

Get What You Want, Part 1---Are We Being Busy or Fruitful?.

Off We Go...

Forgive me a minute while I go all fan girl, not over a person -- although that's usually where I go with this -- but over a place. Ireland. Why? Because next week, for the very first time, I will leave the US for another country, namely Ireland. I can't tell you how excited I am, but I'll try. I!!!!!!!!!!!  AM!!!!!!!!!!!!!  EXCITED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I thought I'd share some pictures of things I hope to see on my trip. Oddly enough, looking at the countryside of Ireland reminds me of the countryside where I grew up in the Deep South, though it also holds a mystic quality that fascinates and amazes me. Maybe y'all will enjoy the beauty of this country as much as I do.

Trinity College, Dublin, Ireland

O'Connell Street, Dublin, Ireland

Christ Church, Dublin, Ireland

Skellig Michael, Ireland

Blarney Castle, Ireland

Waterford, Ireland

*Photos by William Murphy, amerune, geographic.org.uk

Rest

I somehow managed to get off a couple of days on my blogging schedule, which really doesn't surprise me considering how hectic this last month has been. May is like a tornado for us, churning up any chance we might have to keep things under control and whipping us around until, honestly, I have no idea which way is up. But we've made it through, and the summer is upon us. Hallellujah! I'm getting my kids ready for a two-week trip to my mother's where they will spend time with their cousins and get cuddled and entertained in that way only grandma's can do. For me, though, the reason I love this yearly pilgrimage is because I get to drive the kids to my mom's, and she lives close to what I consider my favorite form of rest: the river.

Though I was born in Florida, I'm not much of a beach girl. I don't mind visiting, but I wouldn't want to live there, lol! But when I go to my mom's, I always take at least one trip to the river. It is at once exciting -- the chuckle of the flowing water and the icy chill as it passes over your skin, not to mention the kids' rushing around and playing -- and soothing. The quiet of a river just can't be beat. Out in the middle of nature, surrounded by trees and peace and warm summer air, cooled down by the touch of Nature's most soothing elements... Yes, I love the river!

I love to lay back and just rest in that cool water. Close my eyes and dunk my head under and have the entire world just disappear. It's one of the few places where I'm not constantly multitasking, especially in my head. I can just...be. Just rest.

How about you? Is there a place where you can just be, where the rush and chaos of the world finally loosens its clawed grip and your mind can relax? A place you look forward to being, belonging? Tell me about it!