Rick R. Reed's Blog, page 60

Christmas Past: ORIENTATION

With Christmas just around the corner, I thought I would share with you a sample from my reincarnation love story, Orientation, which won the EPIC eBook Award in 2009 as the Best GLBT Novel of the Year. This excerpt takes place at Christmas, 1983. Get the Kleenex ready....


CHRISTMAS NIGHT WAS memorable for Robert, if only because it was the night the one great love of his young life was taken, stolen away by a disease he could never have imagined just a few years before. The night was also memorable because there was a kind of Christmas miracle, even if it lasted only a few moments. Keith came back to him. His Keith, the one who could make him laugh and make him feel “like a million bucks.” For the briefest of moments, the real Keith returned, smiling and making of his death mask face a hint of what had been there before: a handsome, distinguished man whose cheeks were no longer sunken and hollow, whose green irises were rimmed in yellow no more, and whose smile could light up a room.Maybe seeing the old Keith, handsome, devilish, strong jawed from his Mediterranean heritage, was just a figment of Robert’s imagination, something he wished for so hard it came true. But the lucidity that came late that Christmas night was not his imagination. Something had clicked in Keith’s fevered brain and for just an instant, he came back.            But it was only to say goodbye.            Robert had spent the long afternoon cooking. He knew it was pointless. Keith, in his best moments, could only keep things like Jell-o and protein drinks down, and Robert had no appetite himself. But in spite of a decided lack of hunger around the Harris/Jafari household, Robert had made quite a testament to culinary expertise in the marble and glass kitchen. The counters were crammed with cutting boards where Robert had used his Wusthof cutlery to prep a garden of fresh herbs, mincing parsley, sage, basil, and thyme into stacks of fine green confetti. He cut garlic into translucent slices. Halved lemons lined up in an orderly row beneath the windowsill, waiting to release their juices. And there, near the sink, a twelve-pound goose waited for Robert’s touch, ready to have its skin loosened and lifted and for him to infuse it with chopped herbs, to stuff its cavity with lemons and whole garlic cloves, and, finally, to be buttered and rubbed lovingly with extra-virgin olive oil and trussed. It would spend the rest of the day basking in the heat of an oven, religiously basted every forty minutes. Robert had made oyster stuffing, rich with fresh-from-the-sea briny juices, sage, and fennel sausage. He had shorn the bottoms off artichokes, trimmed their leaves, and stuffed them with a mixture of bread crumbs, garlic and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. In the sink, a mound of Yukon gold potatoes awaited peeling. Brussels sprouts needed to be cleaned, steamed, and tossed in butter, lemon juice, and garlic.            And when the kitchen windows fogged with steam from bubbling pots and the whole first floor of the penthouse was redolent with roasting bird, Robert went into the little powder room off the kitchen and threw up. He sat there by the toilet afterwards, gasping, and wiping angrily at his mouth and nose with Kleenex that left shreds on his stubbled face. He started to sob, the tears coming easily, hating himself for being such a coward, for spending all this time, all this money, to prepare this glorious yuletide feast no one would ever eat. He slapped his own face, punishing himself for being so stupid, stupid, stupid. Who was he trying to kid? Did making a Christmas goose with all the trimmings wipe out a year of love, passion, and happiness? Did all the cooking, decorating, and wrapping of presents put a different face on Death, who paced the penthouse, features furrowed, waiting to take his own Christmas present, which lay, just inches away from “delivery” on sweat-soaked Egyptian cotton sheets?            Why couldn’t he accept what was happening? It was over. It was only a flame that had flared and then was snuffed out. He forced himself up, gripping the little pedestal sink, and splashed cold water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror above the sink, hating the vibrant, rosy glow in his cheeks, his fine, small-pored skin, twinkling blue eyes that betrayed not a hint of his exhaustion and despair, and his shining blond hair, in ringlets because of the kitchen humidity.            Why did Keith have to die?            Why did Robert have to live?            He closed his eyes and went into the kitchen, ready to feed the fabulous food to the garbage disposal. The work, just like the preparation of the meal, would take his mind off things.            And then he heard Keith’s voice, watery, weak, a shadow of its former self, call out. If the garbage disposal had been on, he wouldn’t have heard it. But the sound of his own name coming from his lover’s lips filled him with a kind of insane joy and optimism. The irrational part of him wanted to take it as a sign, a U-turn in the road toward death.            His Keith was getting better! Getting better in spite of the fact that all these other men with AIDS were dying quick, painful deaths. Keith would be the exception to the rule. He always had been. A sob caught in Robert’s throat and he hurried toward the stairs.            “Robert?” Keith’s voice sounded again, querulous and weak as a kitten. But it was Keith and he was calling for him.            Robert rushed up the spiral staircase, tripping once, a startled laugh escaping from his lips. Who knew? This AIDS thing was still so new. Who was to say there weren’t people out there who could beat it? People with imagination and fortitude.            People like Keith.            Robert hesitated outside the bedroom door. Inside, it was quiet, and he dreaded going in there and finding Keith on the bed asleep, a sheen of sweat clinging to his sunken cheeks, his breath phlegmy and labored. What if Keith’s call was just a momentary peek through the twin curtains of fever and consciousness? Or worse, the product of his own overly-hopeful imagination?            What would be, would be (hadn’t some virginal blonde even once sung about it?). Robert steeled himself: deep, cleansing breath, let it out slowly. And entered the room.            Keith was awake. His face looked even more drawn and tired—the color of ash. Robert would have said it was impossible for him to look any sicker even this morning, but now he did. In the air, despite the cinnamon and vanilla scented candles in the room, was the smell of sickness and shit.            But oh, Lord! Keith was looking at him. Looking right at Robert. And he was seeing him! For the first time in forever, their gazes met and connected. Robert approached the bed warily, as if a sudden movement would send Keith plummeting back into unconsciousness.            “Honey? Can you hear me?” Robert stood, wringing his hands, heart fluttering, beating against his ribs.            “Of course.” Keith’s voice was a croak. Gone were the bass notes that had made him sound so sexy and assured. Keith reached a bruised hand out over the covers and patted the bed. “Would you sit next to me?”            “Oh, of course!” Robert took two steps and weighed down the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off Keith’s forehead, biting his own lip at the heat radiating off Keith’s flesh. “I’m so happy you’re awake.”            Keith swallowed. The swallow took a long time and looked as if it took all of the sick man’s effort. He let out a weak sigh and turned his head. He looked up at Robert and managed a wan smile. Robert closed his eyes and gently laid his head atop Keith’s.            And then Keith began to talk, his old voice suddenly returned, strong and sure. “I have just a few things to say, Robert. And I need you to shut up and listen. No interruptions. The first thing I want to say is ‘Merry Christmas.’ I’m so sorry I couldn’t be a bigger part of things for this, our first Christmas together, but that decision was taken from me and it doesn’t look like Mr. Claus is seeing fit to give me a chance to make it up to you.“The second thing I want to say is that I love you with all my heart. I searched forty some odd years for you, for what I’ve always dreamed of, and what I thought I couldn’t have when you dropped, like a gift, like an angel, into my life last winter. You were what I hunted for all my life: a family. You are my family. Don’t ever forget how precious that is.“The third thing I want to say is that you’re an idiot, running around, burying your head in the sand and trying to make a Christmas that neither of us has the capacity to enjoy. And last, I love you for that. I love you so much for trying…for hoping against all odds that this moment would come and I would let you know how much I appreciate you. For hoping that we might share one final kiss before I have to go. And my love, I do have to go.But I couldn’t leave without you hearing these four words. You. Are. My. Family.”

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NO SPOILERS, PLEASE! The Couple Next Door

How does a writer who pens a romantic suspense novel with two major plot twists stop reviewers and readers from letting the cat out of the bag early and spoiling the shocks in the story?

He pleads... He pleads for understanding. He pleads for you not to spoil the experience for other readers.

If you read THE COUPLE NEXT DOOR, I will thank you very much for taking a chance on my latest book and I will ask--in the name of all that's holy--please don't reveal the #1 twist (near the middle of the book) and the #2 twist (near the end).

If you want to talk about the twists, I'd love to hear from you at jimmyfels@gmail.com (no, don't post your spoilers in the comments below, LOL). Did you see them coming? Did they work for you? Were you surprised?

BLURB
With the couple next door, nothing is as it seems. 

Jeremy Booth leads a simple life, scraping by in the gay neighborhood of Seattle, never letting his lack of material things get him down. But the one thing he really wants—someone to love—seems elusive. Until the couple next door moves in and Jeremy sees the man of his dreams, Shane McCallister, pushed down the stairs by a brute named Cole. 

Jeremy would never go after another man’s boyfriend, so he reaches out to Shane in friendship while suppressing his feelings of attraction. But the feeling of something being off only begins with Cole being a hard-fisted bully—it ends with him seeming to be different people at different times. Some days, Cole is the mild-mannered John and then, one night in a bar, he’s the sassy and vivacious drag queen Vera. 

So how can Jeremy rescue the man of his dreams from a situation that seems to get crazier and more dangerous by the day? By getting close to the couple next door, Jeremy not only puts a potential love in jeopardy, but eventually his very life.

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Good Karma, Good Books: (Un)Masked by Anyta Sunday & Andrew Q. Gordon

Every Wednesday, I put on my pimp clothes (zoot suits, feathered hats, platform shoes, and the like) and introduce you to something new and wonderful in the literary world. This week, I’m excited to shine a spotlight on (Un)Masked by Anyta Sunday & Andrew Q. Gordon. 

Here's what Andrew has to say about their book:

"(Un)Masked will always be special to me for so many reasons. It was the first book I'd had published stands out as a big reason, but even more meaningful to me is that Anyta was living in the Pittsburgh at the time and that was only a five hour drive from DC. While we were working on the book she came to visit a few times and I got to meet her and her family face to face. During the time we were working on the book and getting it ready for submission, my daughter was born. Right before the book came out, Anyta came for a last visit before they returned to Germany. I will forever have this imagine in my mind of her son dancing in my TV room in front of 'lil q. It was like he was trying to teach her to dance.  To me,(Un)Masked will always be associated with that time in my life and the friendship that it deepened.
Regarding the book, it's hard to pigeon hole the story. It's mostly a contemporary romance, set in New Zealand, but it has a small paranormal bent. It's small, but very important to the story. In Jay and Lethe's world magic is not common. People don't know it exists, except if it affects them, like it does Lethe and by extension, Jay. 

"(Un)Masked is going to play with your emotions. It will take you on a journey of love, loss, sacrifice and a deep abiding friendship. And if you like your paranormal just a bit different, I think you should check out this book.."

BLURB
Jay Walker has two wishes: to perform the play of his dreams alongside his best friend at Wellington’s Tory Street Theatre, and to meet that special someone. Someone he’d go to the ends of the earth for. Someone who might only exist in fairy tales.
When Jay meets accordion busker Lethe Cross, it’s like living a dream come true. Lethe’s music captivates Jay, and he resolves to meet the man who plays so beautifully. But then he discovers Lethe’s life is more like a nightmare. The phrase “down on his luck” can’t begin to cover it. Determined to help, Jay does some snooping for answers—and winds up on the wrong end of a centuries-old curse. The good news is there’s a way to break it. The bad news is it might cost Jay his life.
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NEW RELEASE! The Couple Next Door Debuts Today!

I'm so thrilled to announce that my latest book, a novel of romantic suspense, is officially out today! Hope you'll check out the blurb and the excerpt below and then grab your copy. I appreciate any word of mouth, but with this one especially, NO SPOILERS please!

BLURB
With the couple next door, nothing is as it seems. 

Jeremy Booth leads a simple life, scraping by in the gay neighborhood of Seattle, never letting his lack of material things get him down. But the one thing he really wants—someone to love—seems elusive. Until the couple next door moves in and Jeremy sees the man of his dreams, Shane McCallister, pushed down the stairs by a brute named Cole. 

Jeremy would never go after another man’s boyfriend, so he reaches out to Shane in friendship while suppressing his feelings of attraction. But the feeling of something being off only begins with Cole being a hard-fisted bully—it ends with him seeming to be different people at different times. Some days, Cole is the mild-mannered John and then, one night in a bar, he’s the sassy and vivacious drag queen Vera. 

So how can Jeremy rescue the man of his dreams from a situation that seems to get crazier and more dangerous by the day? By getting close to the couple next door, Jeremy not only puts a potential love in jeopardy, but eventually his very life.

BUY
Dreamspinner Press ebook
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Amazon Kindle
Amazon paperback to come
AllRomance eBooks

EXCERPT
I open the front door, and that’s when everything changes. My life turns upside down. I go from bored discontent to panic in a split second.
The first thing I hear is someone shouting “No!” in an anguished voice. I look up from the lobby to see two figures on the staircase above, on the second-floor landing. One is a guy who looks menacing and so butch he could pose for a Tom of Finland poster. An aura of danger radiates from him. Aside from his imposing and muscular frame, he’s even wearing the right clothes—tight, rolled jeans and a black leather biker jacket with a chain snaking out from beneath one of the epaulets. His high and tight buzzed hair gives him a military—and mean—air. He has his hands on the shoulders of a guy who looks a bit younger and much slighter, making me want to call up the stairs, “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” The smaller guy, blond and clad only in a pair of pajama bottoms, struggles with his attacker, looking terrified. Their movements, clumsy and rough, would be comical if they weren’t so scary. The smaller guy is panting and batting ineffectually at the bigger one.
“Please! No! Don’t!” the smaller guy manages to get out, his voice close to hysteria.
I have never seen either of these men before. In fact, the whole scene has the quality of the surreal, a dream. The danger and conflict pulsing down the stairs makes my own heart rate and respiration accelerate, causing feelings of panic to rise within me.
And then the worst happens. The big butch guy shoves the smaller one hard, and all at once he’s tumbling heavily down the stairs toward me.
The fall is graceless, and it looks like it hurts. It’s over so fast that I’m left gasping.
I look up to see the leather-jacket guy sneer down at his mate, lying crumpled and crying at my feet, and then turn sharply on his heel to go back into a second-floor apartment that had been vacant yesterday. He slams the door. The sound of the deadbolt sliding into place is like the report of a shotgun. Both slam and lock resound like thunderclaps, echoing in the tile lobby, punctuation to the drama and trauma of this short scene.
I switch into Good Samaritan mode and drop to my knees at the sniveling, crumpled mess of a man lying practically at my feet.

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FOLLOW THE BLOG TOUR FOR The Couple Next Door & WIN!

Sale! Sale! Sale! This Weekend Only!

Good news! Three of my most popular books are only 99 cents each through the weekend. Snatch 'em up! And feel free to share! 
Get: Dinner at Home (http://bit.ly/1MZagAR)Dinner at Fiorello's (http://bit.ly/1QX2M58) or Blink (http://bit.ly/1IGRIkB) now through the weekend for less than a buck!
DINNER AT HOME
It only takes a few days for Ollie D'Angelo to lose his boyfriend, his job, and his home. Instead of mourning what he doesn’t have, Ollie celebrates what he does: the freedom to pursue his real passion—cooking. He begins Dinner at Home, a home-catering business, and it takes off.

Late one night, Ollie catches Hank Mellinger, a street-wise hood down on his luck, about to rob his car. Ollie soon discovers that appearances aren’t necessarily what they seem. Hank isn’t a criminal caught red-handed but a hungry young man trying to make a life for himself and the four-year-old niece he’s trying desperately to take care of. Instead of calling the cops, Ollie offers Hank a job and a way to pull himself up by his bootstraps. Together, they discover they can really cook... and that their shared passion for food just might lead to a passion for each other.
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DINNER AT FIORELLO'SWhere love is on the menu....

Henry Appleby has an appetite for life. As a recent high school graduate and the son of a wealthy family in one of Chicago’s affluent North Shore suburbs, his life is laid out for him. Unfortunately, though, he’s being forced to follow in the footsteps of his successful attorney father instead of living his dream of being a chef. When an opportunity comes his way to work in a real kitchen the summer after graduation, at a little Italian joint called Fiorello’s, Henry jumps at the chance, putting his future in jeopardy.

Years ago, life was a plentiful buffet for Vito Carelli. But a tragic turn of events now keeps the young chef at Fiorello’s quiet and secretive, preferring to let his amazing Italian peasant cuisine do his talking. When the two cooks meet over an open flame, sparks fly. Both need a taste of something more—something real, something true—to separate the good from the bad and find the love—and the hope—that just might be their salvation. 
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BLINKLife can change in the blink of an eye.

That's a truth Andy Slater learns as a young man in 1982, taking the Chicago 'L' to work every morning. Andy's life is laid out before him: a good job, marriage to his female college sweetheart, and the white picket fence existence he believes in. But when he sees Carlos Castillo for the first time, Carlos’s dark eyes and Latin appeal mesmerize him. Fate continues to throw them together until the two finally agree to meet up. At Andy’s apartment, the pent-up passion of both young men is ignited, but is snuffed out by an inopportune and poorly-timed phone call.

 Flash forward to present day. Andy is alone, having married, divorced, and become the father of a gay son. He’s comfortable but alone and has never forgotten the powerful pull of Carlos’s gaze on the 'L' train. He vows to find him once more, hoping for a second chance. If life can change in the blink of an eye, what will the passage of thirty years do? To find out, Andy begins a search that might lead to heartache and disappointment or a love that will last forever….
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Good Karma, Good Books: Cat's Quill by Anne Barwell

Every Wednesday, I put on my pimp clothes (I favor feathered hats and zebra printswith a little crushed velvet) and help promote the new or old work of some of my favorite fellow authors. Be sure to stop by every week and see what’s new. 

This week, I’m excited to introduce you to Cat's Quill by Anne Barwell. Here's what Anne has to say about her story:

"Cat’s Quill is not only the first book in my Hidden Places series, but it’s also my first published book so it holds a special place in my heart. 
I’ve always loved reading fantasy in which characters from our world find themselves in another, and vice versa.  The ‘fish out of water’ scenario is appealing not only because the character must find his way through an unfamiliar world, but because it also gives the opportunity for commentary on our own from a different perspective.  

"One of the themes in Cat’s Quill is the definition of reality. Are fantasy stories based on reality, or are they the product of a writer’s imagination? 

"Tomas, one of the main characters, is a writer, and it was fun to explore some of his inner dialogue and the concept of having a muse.   

"It’s also a story within a story in more ways than one.  Tomas is obsessed with finding a sequel to a book he read years ago, but has had no luck finding the author or the book. However, he is certain that the story is not finished.  When he arrives in Oakwood he meets Cathal who provides clues to what Tomas is looking for, but surely they can’t possibly be true? 

"Early on I decided to write the whole book from Tomas’s point-of-view. This isn’t something I usually do, but it was important that the reader find out the truth as Tomas does step by step. 

Unfortunately Tomas’s time in Cathal’s world is limited as escape from there is a priority so I didn’t have the opportunity to show as much as I would have liked of that society.  There are more hints in book 2—Magic’s Muse—as Cathal must reconcile his old life with his new one in Tomas’s world. Most of the storyline in the final book of the series will take place in Cathal’s world where battles will be fought and life-changing decisions will be made in an action packed conclusion called Dragon’s Price."

BLURB
Tomas Kemp has two successful novels to his name and the true belief that a successful sequel is only a matter of a little inspiration. When Tomas meets a mysterious stranger under the branches of an old oak tree, he feels compelled to tell him about a book he holds dear and the sequel he wants to read. But Cathal doesn’t share that deep belief that the sequel Tomas seeks ends happily. Cathal has seen enough of a world where stories are real to know that happy ever after is sometimes the dream that won’t come true.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Anne Barwell lives in Wellington, New Zealand.  She shares her home with two cats who are convinced that the house is run to suit them; this is an ongoing "discussion," and to date it appears as though the cats may be winning.

In 2008 she completed her conjoint BA in English Literature and Music/Bachelor of Teaching. She has worked as a music teacher, a primary school teacher, and now works in a library. She is a member of the Upper Hutt Science Fiction Club and plays violin for Hutt Valley Orchestra.

She is an avid reader across a wide range of genres and a watcher of far too many TV series and movies, although it can be argued that there is no such thing as "too many." These, of course, are best enjoyed with a decent cup of tea and further the continuing argument that the concept of "spare time" is really just a myth.
Anne’s books have twice received honorable mentions and twice reached the finals in the Rainbow Awards.  
Blog:  http://anne-barwell.livejournal.com/Website: http://annebarwell.wordpress.com/Coffee Unicorns:  http://coffeeunicorns.wordpress.com/Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/anne.barwell.1Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/115084832208481414034/postsGoodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4862410.Anne_BarwellDreamspinner Press Author Page: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/AuthorArcade/anne-barwell
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_426
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Cat’s Quill   Hidden Places series

My Psychic Thriller, THIRD EYE, is FREE for Black Friday!

TODAY ONLY! My psychic thriller, THIRD EYE, is FREE from DSP Publications!
BLURBWho knew that a summer thunderstorm and his lost little boy would conspire to change single dad Cayce D’Amico’s life in an instant? With Luke missing, Cayce ventures into the woods near their house to find his son, only to have lightning strike a tree near him, sending a branch down on his head. When he awakens the next day in the hospital, he discovers he has been blessed or cursed—he isn't sure which—with psychic ability. Along with unfathomable glimpses into the lives of those around him, he’s getting visions of a missing teenage girl. When a second girl disappears soon after the first, Cayce realizes his visions are leading him to their grisly fates. Cayce wants to help, but no one believes him. The police are suspicious. The press wants to exploit him. And the girls' parents have mixed feelings about the young man with the "third eye." Cayce turns to local reporter Dave Newton and, while searching for clues to the string of disappearances and possible murders, a spark ignites between the two. Little do they know that nearby, another couple—dark and murderous—are plotting more crimes and wondering how to silence the man who knows too much about them.
GET YOUR FREE COPY HERE!

Thanksgiving Gratitude

My Facebook friend (and real-life friend of—gulp—about 40 years) Donna Anderson challenged people to post something about what they’re grateful for as we countdown to Thanksgiving. Below are my posts, collected here on this Thanksgiving Day, November 26, 2015.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates. May your day be filled with family, friends, love, good food, and continued blessings!

NOVEMBER 20
My friend Donna Anderson is asking people to post things they're thankful for and, without trying, this morning I realized I really had something to post. I was up early, as usual, sitting alone in front of the fireplace with my coffee and reading. I thought of how lucky I am to have two very special beings only a few feet away, really, slumbering in a warm bed. To those two, I matter most in the world and the feeling is mutual. I am thankful for my husband, Bruce, and my dog, Lily.


NOVEMBER 21
Continuing my countdown to Thanksgiving with what I'm thankful for: Today I'm grateful for my son, Nicholas and his husband, Tarik. Nicholas has been the light of my life and one of my most treasured blessings for the last 31 years. He is a constant source of joy and love and I cannot imagine life without him. When he married Tarik six years ago, that love and joy only multiplied. Very little makes me happier than knowing my son made such a good marriage and increased the love in our family exponentially.

NOVEMBER 22
Continuing with my Thanksgiving countdown posts about what I'm grateful for. Today, I'm remembering my mom, who passed away in 2007 from cancer. I was watching a TV show last night where one of the characters, a young woman, had had a fight with her mother and wasn't speaking to her. Later on in the show, something significant happened and she said, "I need to talk to--" and then she couldn't finish because she realized she wasn't speaking to her mom. I was immediately in tears, not for the character, but for that realization. In good times or bad, for much of my life, one of the first things I always thought to do was tell my mother. She always listened, always cared, and always made me feel like my news was the most important thing in the world to her. Losing that has left a hole in my life that I can't heal, nor would I want to. I'm grateful today for having my mother as long as I did...and the joy, memories, love, and lessons that she imparted that will stay with me always.

NOVEMBER 23
Continuing with my Thanksgiving countdown posts about what I'm grateful for. Today, I'm thankful for IMAGINATION. Imagination is my escape, but also my way of establishing a kind of order to the chaos of the world. Without it, I'd have no career and probably no sanity.

NOVEMBER 24
Today I'm thankful for my sisters, Susan and Melissa. Even though I like to joke that we grew up as only children (we have big separations in age: Susan is 8 years older and Melissa is 11 years younger), they're still the only remainders I have from my immediate family. We're orphans together and, in spite of our age differences and the miles that separate us, they're never far from my heart.

NOVEMBER 25
Continuing my Thanksgiving gratitude countdown, this morning I'm thankful for home. I don't know how big I am into astrology, but my sign is Cancer and one thing that rings true about Cancers for me is that they're all about home (and water). All my life, one of the most important things to me is having and making a home. Home is my sanctuary, my safe place, and Dorothy said it best when she said there's no place like it. My heart's desire IS in my own backyard. And that heart's desire, curiously enough, has always been very close to a body of water, which also fits in with the Cancer theme (growing up, I was two blocks from the Ohio River, my many years in Chicago were always
spent very close to Lake Michigan, Miami, I was a short drive from the Atlantic, and here in Seattle, I overlook Lake Union). So, like my husband, Bruce (and fellow Cancer) I'm grateful for home...and water. They're both life-giving forces.

NOVEMBER 26
Today's the day! Happy Thanksgiving! What am I grateful for today? You.

Have a wonderful holiday.

Good Karma, Good Books: Drama Queen by Joe Cosentino

Every Wednesday, I put on my pimp clothes (I favor feathered hats and zebra printswith a little crushed velvet) and help promote the new or old work of some of my favorite fellow authors. Be sure to stop by every week and see what’s new. 

This week, I’m excited to introduce you to Drama Queen by Joe Cosentino. 

BLURB
It could be curtains for college theatre professor Nicky Abbondanza. With dead bodies popping up all over campus, Nicky must use his drama skills to figure out who is playing the role of murderer before it is lights out for Nicky and his colleagues. Complicating matters is Nicky’s huge crush on Noah Oliver, a gorgeous assistant professor in his department, who may or may not be involved with a cocky graduate assistant...and is also the top suspect for the murders! You will be applauding and shouting Bravo for Joe Cosentino’s fast-paced, side-splittingly funny, edge-of-your-seat, delightfully entertaining novel. Curtain up!

EXCERPT 
I left my students to their private discussion and joined my young graduate assistant seated on a red velvet bench in a turreted area of the lobby. As I dug into my sizable piece of cake, Scotty leaned into me like a cat facing a sardine, “Since it looks like the tech rehearsal will run late, I can teach your morning Theatre History class tomorrow.” 
“That won’t be necessary, Scotty.” Just stick your finger down your throat then head to the gym as usual. 
“With teaching your classes, assessing and updating curriculum, going to faculty meetings, advising students, writing your articles, advising the theatre club, and directing plays, I worry that you may get sick.” 
You’d unleash the bubonic plague if it meant getting my job. I patted his shaved and oiled knee, and said a la Margo Channing, “I’m fine, Scotty. Just leave your notes on tonight’s performance in my office box tomorrow.” 
“Am I too late for the party?” My knees dipped as Noah Oliver took off his coat and scarf and stood next to me. “Happy birthday, Nicky!” He winked at me. 
Maybe we can adopt seven children, run away to the hills, and start a family singing act. 
Scotty leapt from his seat like it was a pogo stick. “Have a piece of cake, Noah. No nuts!” 
I beg your pardon? 
“Thanks for remembering, Scotty.” Noah sat between Scotty and me and dug into the creamy wonder. Was that a familiar smile between Scotty and Noah?! 
Scotty explained as if he was Noah’s husband, “Noah is allergic to nuts, Nicky.” 
Hopefully not to mine. 
Noah took me in with his baby blue eyes. Did I notice a look of lust in them? “How’s the show going?” 
What show? Oh! “We’re all exhausted, frazzled, panicked, and certain of a great opening night.” 
Noah squeezed my hand. “You’re an amazing director. The creative way you move your characters around the stage, how the elements of design compliment the story, and your unique vision is thrilling to watch. I expect nothing short of brilliance in this production.” Noah beamed with pride. “And you have some powerful student actors in the show.” Scotty collected our empty plates. “Noah is a terrific acting teacher.” He gazed at Noah with pure adoration. “The students are lucky to have you.” 
Since theatre is a collaborative art, I said, “Tyler’s execution of David’s scenic design is amazing, and as usual Tyler has been a total work horse. Ariella’s costumes have an incredible gothic look, but they’re light enough for the students to move around in them.” 
Noah whispered in my ear, and I restrained myself from throwing myself on top of him. “Can I speak to you about something…personal?” 
“Sure.” How about a June wedding?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Joe Cosentino is the author of Drama Queen the first Nicky and Noah mystery (Lethe Press), An Infatuation (Dreamspinner Press), Paper Doll the first Jana Lane mystery (Whiskey Creek Press), and The Nutcracker and the Mouse King (Eldridge Plays and Musicals). He has appeared in principal acting roles in film, television, and theatre, opposite stars such as Bruce Willis, Rosie O’Donnell, Nathan Lane, Holland Taylor, and Jason Robards. His one-act plays, Infatuation and Neighbor, were performed in New York City. He wrote The Perils of Pauline educational film (Prentice Hall Publishers). Joe is currently Head of the Department/Professor at a college in upstate New York, and is happily married. His upcoming novels are Drama Muscle the second Nicky and Noah mystery (Lethe Press), A Shooting Star (Dreamspinner Press novella), A Home for the Holidays (Dreamspinner Press holiday novella),The Naked Prince and Other Tales from Fairyland (Dreamspinner Press fairytale novella), and Porcelain Doll the second Jana Lane mystery (Wild Rose Press).
Web site: http://www.JoeCosentino.weebly.com Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JoeCosentinoa... Twitter: https://twitter.com/JoeCosenGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4071647.Joe_Cosentino
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00KRPXJP6
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Purchase the paperback from Lethe Press at: http://www.lethepressbooks.com/store/p303/Drama_Queen%3A_A_Nicky_and_Noah_Mystery.htmlPurchase the paperback from Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Drama-Queen-Nicky-Noah-Mystery/dp/1590214676/Purchase the ebook from Smashwords at: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/546002Purchase the Kindle from Amazon at: http://www.amazon.com/Drama-Queen-Nicky-Noah-Mystery-ebook/dp/B00YCJSEJO/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1432850588&sr=1-1Purchase the audiobook narrated by Michael Gilboe at http://www.amazon.com/Drama-Queen-Nicky-Noah-Mystery/dp/B012O702CW/
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A Recipe for Romance and One for Beef Stew

My books, even the ones that are obviously about food and romance, like Dinner at Home and my latest, Dinner at Fiorello’s, pay homage to the kitchen as well as the bedroom. I see a real link between the heart and the stomach.

Below is an interview I originally did at Prism Book Alliance during the blog tour for
Dinner at Fiorello’s. With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I think it's worth repeating here, since it really reveals both my cooking and writing philosophies.
There’s a lot about food in your writing. Was cooking a big thing in your family growing up?
Oh yeah. I grew up with a Sicilian mom and, for Italians, food is at the heart of not only every celebration, but also daily life. Not only did my mother’s simple southern-Italian cooking she learned at the apron strings of her aunts and grandmother (her mom died at a very young age, so my mom was raised by other relatives) help inspire me and guide me on my journey toward loving and respecting food, but it also showed me how you could show your caring for someone by ensuring they ate…and ate well.
Whenever I visited Italian relatives as a kid, we rarely sat in their living rooms. It was always around a big kitchen table. And there was always plenty of food—especially around the holidays—which you better dare not refuse. An Italian woman who wants you to eat cannot be refused!
So, yeah, food was and continues to be a big deal for me.
What are some of your favorite dishes?I am pretty much indiscriminate when it comes to loving different cuisines (some might say a food slut, but I prefer the term foodie). I mean, there’s very little I won’t eat, unless it’s processed or fast-food crap, and I love all different nationalities’ cooking. My favorites, though, I think would have to be Vietnamese and Korean (easy to find here in Seattle, where the Asian population is huge). And when it comes to my own cooking, it’s simple, nourishing, and comforting. I love to make my mom’s spaghetti sauce and meatballs on a Sunday, letting it simmer all day and fill the house with memories of other Sundays. I make really good soups and stews, often from scratch and assembled from what’s on hand in the fridge and pantry.
Who cooks more, you or your husband? And who is the better cook?I would say I do about 98.9% of the cooking at our house. Bruce does the cleanup and we are both very happy with this arrangement (well, at least until I use three saucepans, two skillets, a baking sheet, and four mixing bowls to make dinner). But I enjoy doing all the cooking. I read somewhere someone had three rules in the kitchen: shoes off, music on, and a glass of wine at hand. I ascribe to that philosophy. It just makes me happy to feed my loved ones.
And I don’t think Bruce would mind a bit if I admitted that I am the better cook. Yet, when he puts his mind to it and gets in the mood to cook, it’s always wonderful. His roast chicken is a thing of beauty that not even I can rival.
Who taught you how to cook?My parents. Both my mother and father were excellent cooks. So I never had the sense that cooking wasn’t something for boys. My mom, who was Sicilian, showed my how to cook with love and that the simplest and freshest things were often the best. She taught me how to make the good, hearty peasant-type food the Sicilian aunts and grandmother who raised her made. My dad was more of the chef. Like me, he loved reading recipes and getting ideas, getting inspired.
Do you follow recipes or do you prefer to make up your own dishes?Ah, definitely the latter. Even when I follow a recipe, I seldom stick to it—I have a need to add my own touches. Since you asked, here’s one of my own recipes and a personal favorite (we eat low-carb these days, so this recipe accounts for that and omits white potatoes—I guarantee you will not miss them!):
Rick R. Reed’s Beef Stew
Ingredients2.5 lbs. beef stew meat1 onion, diced4 cloves garlic, smashed1 large sweet potato1 cup baby carrots2 parsnips, peeled and diced1 turnip, peeled and diced1 cup red wine1 can beef consommé2 T Better than Bouillon (Beef)3 T Worcestershire Sauce2 T tomato paste1 T garlic powder1 T onion powder1 T dried thyme2 T Herbes de ProvenceSalt and pepper to taste
Directions
1.     Sear beef in a little oil in a heavy skillet or Dutch oven; do not crowd—do in batches if necessary.2.     Remove beef to platter or plate. Deglaze pan with red wine and a little Worcestershire. Reduce down to a syrupy consistency.3.     Add vegetables, wine, consommé, tomato paste, bouillon, and seasonings to slow cooker.4.     Add meat, pour reduction over all.5.     Cook on low 8-9 hours.
Thanks for having me. Hope people will consider taking a bite out of Dinner at Fiorello’s !
DINNER AT FIORELLO'SHenry Appleby has an appetite for life. As a recent high school graduate and the son of a wealthy family in one of Chicago’s affluent North Shore suburbs, his life is laid out for him. Unfortunately, though, he’s being forced to follow in the footsteps of his successful attorney father instead of living his dream of being a chef. When an opportunity comes his way to work in a real kitchen the summer after graduation, at a little Italian joint called Fiorello’s, Henry jumps at the chance, putting his future in jeopardy.
Years ago, life was a plentiful buffet for Vito Carelli. But a tragic turn of events now keeps the young chef at Fiorello’s quiet and secretive, preferring to let his amazing Italian peasant cuisine do his talking. When the two cooks meet over an open flame, sparks fly. Both need a taste of something more—something real, something true—to separate the good from the bad and find the love—and the hope—that just might be their salvation.

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