Shehanne Moore's Blog, page 12

Dolly. As I am more attuned to cat diet, rather than hamster food, I consulted with Mona, my granddaughter’s hamster. She complained that she wasn’t getting any chocolate, and she would love some! Even though Mona is a dudette, rather than a dude, I am totally ready to offer you guys plenty of chocolate – how do you like the idea?

Dolly –Hey dudes, do you think Ivan the Terrible was a part of my family? Or Henry VIII? Caligula,

G-d forbid? Shame on you! And I thought you were a friendly bunch…

But seriously, it’s the loss of my father that started this blog idea to begin with, and his birthday that came so soon after his passing. I described it in one of my first posts: https://koolkosherkitchen.wordpress.com/2016/05/05/hello-beautiful-people/

Dolly. Much easier than you think! You want to join the next Lasting Joy club meeting? We’ll be making delicious CHOCOLATE no-bake pastries. Dudes also want to be happy, I am sure, and chocolate goes a long way towards happiness![image error]

Dolly. It really is! You think you are the first ones asking this question? My mother is to blame, together with idiotic communist policies. I explained it in my About page https://koolkosherkitchen.wordpress.com/contact/about-kookkosherkitchen/

Dolly That’s a million dollar question – do you have a million dollars?

Beautiful, terrible, fun, harrowing, exciting, dangerous, and all of the above. I was 27 when I left, so in addition to growing up, I managed to get good education, get married, have a son, get divorced, get in trouble with communist government, write for newspaper and TV, and make some very dear friends.

Dolly -Yes! Cuba Libre / Morena Cake https://koolkosherkitchen.wordpress.com/2016/08/26/cuba-libre-or-morena-cake-vote/

But that’s because I am drinking a Cuba Libre right now. Otherwise, who knows… as long as it has chocolate in it, and the more chocolate, the better!

Dolly – We just started the Lasting Joy club (https://lastingjoyclub.wordpress.com/2018/02/05/welcome/), and I opened a blog dedicated to it. Each monthly club meeting will be combined with a culinary class, and since there is no facility to cook or bake, it presents a fascinating challenge in itself.

Hopefully, it will result in a new book, tentatively called Recipes for Joy.

‘They say that to properly review a cookbook you should try to make at least five of the recipes. I have to confess that I’ve not made any YET, because Kool Kosher Kitchen is no ordinary cookbook. It’s like sitting down at the table with a friend–wine coffee, whatever your poison–and having a long, warm chat about all kinds of everything. Did you know, for example that some of the French non military personnel stayed in Russia after 1812 and this led to the creation of Apple Charlotte? It’s one story at least. Dolly Aizenman doesn’t just share recipes, every page brims with the story, anecdote or family history, connected to the dish. A tall order but one she doesn’t fail to deliver. Soups, sides, main courses, desserts and bread. Indian, Italian, Jewish, whatever. There’s something for everyone here. Dolly’s gift is in making you believe you’re making the dish as you chat.’

Amazon.com/author/koolkosherkitchen

BLURB:

Kool Kosher Kitchen literally draws recipes “from the four corners of the world,” presenting international fusion cuisine the kosher way. Cook Indian, cook Italian, cook Chinese and Japanese, or cook traditional Jewish; make it vegetarian, pescatarean, or vegan, make it festive and nutritious, always easy to make and delicious, for holiday and every day, but above all, have fun in your kitchen and make your kitchen a fun place to be!

What makes Kool Kosher Kitchen unique is a combination of great recipes and fascinating stories. Dolly’s stories are humorous and inspiring, sometimes based on solid research, and sometimes on questionable historical anecdotes, but always riveting and always entertaining.

BUY LINK:

BIO:

Dr Dolly Aizenman, a prominent educator, retired a while ago and suddenly found herself with time on her hands. While still teaching both college and seminary part-time, she has used the extra time to combine the two great loves of her life: cooking and writing. She has just published a cookbook Kool Kosher Kitchen, available both in print and eBook version.

In Dolly’s own words, “It wasn’t easy to keep kosher in communist Russia, where I was born and lived for 27 years, until I was allowed to leave. You couldn’t go to a kosher store and buy anything, from soup to nuts, with a Hecksher (kosher certification), the way it is in the US. Here, chicken is already shechted (slaughtered) for you, and cows conveniently label their own parts as “beef for stew.” As Yakov Smirnov used to say in the eponymous TV sitcom, “What a country!” After teaching for almost 40 years, I am now semi-retired, I love to cook, and I have time to share recipes and new food ideas.”

I don’t do social media other than Facebook which I usually forget that it even exists. It’s Kool Kosher Kitchen.
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Published on February 11, 2018 07:02

Do Writers Need Playlists?

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Shehanne. Well….

Shehanne.. Oh, you mean that one? ‘Why I needed a playlist for this book and it is so ceaselessly whining too?

Shehanne – Well, first of all it’s not the only whining things round here.

Shehanne – You know? I couldn’t agree more. I guess you just can’t help whining anyway even though there’s a few upbeat ones there. I mean obviously I chose Shut Up and Dance because the heroine is called Destiny. Oh and did i say, it is something I wish you’d do? You can get your little hamster rocks and socks off to that one. Then there’s some specially chosen, wonderfully atmospheric classical, largely because they are ones I play–Lachrymosa the Thalberg version–and I am certain it would be nothing for you to learn those.

By next week.

Look, this book was originally called The Lady Of Lavistock and it was a nice little rainbows and unicorns effort. She’s in the house. He wins the house. She comes with it in a rainbows and unicorns kind of way.

It’s all fine till the day he announces he’s getting married to someone else. The problems were there even then, because to open the story at the point of change, would have meant starting with his announcement, not with her losing the house. But the real problems started, seeing as you are so kindly asking,

when the hero threw the book at the end of the first section in chapter two, as my heroes often do.

he said. It was the first I knew. But hey do I ever argue?

I mean it’s not like I plot, or I might plot to get rid of you lot. [image error]

So? Where were we? Well, he also didn’t want to be called Manning Carver and he was most certainly NOT for being some fancy-ancy rich self-made Regency business-man. ‘With a heroine called Destiny Rhodes, you need to bin the rainbows and unicorns and Lavistock shit and think far bigger and far darker,’ he said. ‘What you have in terms of motivating these characters to do what they do, has more holes than a colander. It’s wishy-washy.’

Every writer works differently but I found a playlist helpful because, with the exception of the house premise, what I am now about to knock into shape, was kind of flown by the proverbial seat of my pants.

is not quite what I sort of originally saw.

Maybe one of these days….

In the meantime I chose the versions I like of these songs. Songs that reflect two people who are more afraid of clinging to the cliff face, than they are to let it go. It’s not failing to survive that scares them.

You know, sometimes that can be a lot scarier than it seems.

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Published on January 29, 2018 07:27

How not to ask for a book review

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Published on January 17, 2018 06:54

One event to change a life. Interview with Annika Perry.

Annika. Not any more!

Annika

As a child in Sweden I had hamsters but mine obviously had the gallivanting streak in him and took off one night never to be seen again. Living on a first floor apartment and with the balcony door slightly ajar I like to imagine he headed outside before strapping on a little hamster parachute and floating down to the park below – all set to explore the world!

It only takes one event to change a life. What is that action, decision, occurrence? Whose life is affected? Changed forever?

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Annika
Whoa! Dudes, this is a great question…I can’t wait to hear about your life-changing moments! I bet they’ll be a lot more dramatic than mine!

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Annika . Surprisingly enough, I never thought of my short stories in these terms until I started to work on my blurb.

The most significant and life-changing moment for me occurred in my mid-20s. At the time I was a newspaper journalist in the Lake District when I was struck down by a severe illness. I was barely able to walk, unable to read, work etc. I had to return home and for months I was bed-ridden. As a result of my illness my career path to what I hoped was foreign newspaper correspondent came to a sudden halt. Over the next two years I made a very slow and gradual recovery; it was many months later that a diagnosis of chronic fatigue syndrome was given. This debilitating disease was distressing, frightening and ultimately changed the course of my life.

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Annika I have actually written and completed a novel which just (!) needs final edits.
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Annika. However, like many writers, I started to work seriously on my craft through short stories. Although short pieces of work they require skill to master and just as much detailed editing as any novel.

With so many shorter pieces of work completed, written both for magazines, competitions and for my own enjoyment, I was kindly encouraged to publish these in a collection by friends both here on WP and by family and friends beyond.

I am so happy I went ahead and completed the anthology and published them. I have learnt so much along the way…and now feel confident when it comes to releasing my novel for publication. It was hard enough with this collection and feel I would have floundered and possibly given up with a whole novel as my first publishing venture.

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Annika . Without a doubt, short stories!! The ideal length for me is between 1,500 – 3,000 words…perfect to set a scene, carve a plot and develop the characters. I relish writing them and it’s pure pleasure creating them and honing them to the final work.
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Annika. I think it’s best to leave the past in the past and I am overjoyed the way my publishing career has taken off now!

“Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.” Mother Teresa

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Annika.
Absolutely!! With their tenacity and spirit I’m sure hamsters would have been a great help. At home the only other animals around are the fish and they are rather uncommunicative! Next door’s cat is a pal to me but does rather tremble when it gets down to serious matters…I feel hamsters are up for anything!
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Annika. First and foremost I’ve learnt never to set a deadline publicly! Never again! The stress of this alone was humungous and the feeling of letting everyone down took its emotional toll on me…next time round everything will be completed and ready to sell!

Having said that, without my public journey to publication as documented on my blog I would never have made such wonderful contacts with other great bloggers and friends here – and received such wonderful, professional and quick work from David Cronin at Moyhill Publishing and promotional support and advice from Sally – the star of WP as far as I’m concerned!
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Annika. Dudes, these biscuits are usually only made at Christmas time in Sweden but can be enjoyed all year round! Enjoy…the recipe makes a lot so there shouldn’t be any fighting over them! Make sure you have a supply of cutters to hand…my favourites are the Christmas tree and pig shape whilst my son’s is the shooting star one.

PEPPERKAKOR (Traditional Swedish Cinnamon biscuits for Christmas)

1/2 litre sugar
150 ml water
2 TBL syrup
2 TBL cinnamon
3/4 TBL cloves
1 TBL ginger
250g butter/margarine
1 TBL bicarbonate of soda
1 TBL brandy
11/2 litre flour

In a large pan, mix sugar, water, syrup and spices together whist gently warming the mixture. Keep stirring.

Take the pot off the hob and add butter; continually stirring until mixture is cool.

Mix the bicarbonate of soda with one tablespoon of warm water. Add this to the mixture as well as the brandy and flour. Keep mixing until dough is smooth. Place this on floured counter surface.

Roll out smaller portions of the mixture with a rolling pin until very thin and make shapes. Put these on a greased tray and bake in oven at 200C for approx. 7 mins until golden brown.

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Annika . Following the whirlwind of activity preceding the launch of my short story collection I am looking forward to returning to normal! I’m determined to finish the edits of my novel and want to bring that to publication in 2018. Furthermore I have two children’s books which I want to rewrite and with the help of a friend who is a superb illustrator look at releasing these as well. A busy year ahead!

About the Book
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It only takes one event to change a life. What is that action, decision, occurrence? Whose life is affected? Changed forever?

In this eclectic mix of 21 short stories, flash fiction and poetry the pendulum swings between first love and murder, from soul-destroying grief to reconciliation. The tales veer from the sweet satisfaction of revenge to new beginnings, from heart-breaking miscarriages of justice to heart-warming Christmas misadventure.

One common thread binds them all; the belief that there is no such thing as an ordinary life; they’re all extraordinary.

Open your hearts and minds as The Storyteller Speaks.

About the Author

Although writing has been a lifetime passion for Annika, her route to full-time writing has been circuitous. She formerly worked within journalism and the timber trade before severe illness followed by motherhood gave her an opportunity to pursue her dream.

Winning First Prize in a ‘Writing Magazine’ short story competition was the much-needed impetus and confidence booster for Annika to complete her first novel, ‘Island Girl’, which is currently in its final editing stages. ‘The Storyteller Speaks’ is Annika’s first published book. Furthermore, she has completed two, as yet unpublished, books for younger children.

As well as writing, Annika is an avid reader (a world without books is unimaginable to her), a keen gardener, walker and she enjoys travel (in spite of her well-documented fear of flying!)

For the past three years blogging has been an important part of her life and she deeply values the friendships formed on WordPress.

Annika lives in the South East of England with her husband and teenage son.

Connect with Annika via:

Blog: https://annikaperry.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AnnikaPerry68
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Annika-Perry/e/B0789NNWFX/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/55576285-annika-perry

The Storyteller Speaks Available at:

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/STORYTELLER-SPEAKS-Powerful-Stories-Heart-ebook/dp/B0789KZVF8/

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/STORYTELLER-SPEAKS-Powerful-Stories-Heart-ebook/dp/B0789KZVF8/
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Published on January 08, 2018 11:10

Apologies for an unexpected break and a Happy New Year

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Filed under: highlanders, Musicuans, Scottish Tagged: Loch Lomond song, New Year, Runrig, Scotland

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Published on December 30, 2017 04:29

Have Yourself a Merry Cornish Christmas

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Filed under: blogging Tagged: Christmas, Cornish Christmas Traditions, Cornwall, recipes, The Dilly Carol

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Published on December 20, 2017 10:22

Christmas Chez Shey’s. AND a Coastal Christmas Blog Hop

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f8ce92ea21/

Christmas Chez Shey’s. By Shehanne Moore.

Cold enough for you? I’ve been reading through all the warm coastal Christmas posts and want to say I also live on the coast five minutes walk from the one pictured above, near Dundee. Not this Dundee-

That’s in New South Wales, this one in Scotland.

where right now temperatures are well in the minus and hamsters will get their asses booted if they don’t butt out and get on with finishing my latest book which is actually set on the Cornish coast not long before Christmas.

I recently did a post about my the heroine of this book, who would sell her soul for a Christmas garland, and about how, when it comes to Christmas decorations…..

It’s not just the memories we hold onto, it’s the life we live, the life we’ve made while understanding that that life evolves constantly, which makes what we have right now in our hands, all the more precious. I’m not going to be waking up ten times a night to see if Santa’s been, or woken by my girls running in to ask me if Santa’s been. Now me and the Mr, get up, get the tea on and open the parcels. Christmas in Scotland can be weather dependant, so we always hope our family are going to be able to get from one end of the city to the other. A few years back a tree fell right outside our door blocking one of the two roads into where we lived. Of course folks were soon out tying bits of tinsel on it and Santa Stop here signs. We also hope there’s not going to be any accidents like the year the oven door fell off first thing on Christmas morning and broke on the tiled floor…..

It would be lovely to stroll down to Broughty Ferry Beach and castle–pictured several images above– five minutes away but the family are all coming for a traditional dinner, turkey and duck.

I don’t know what you’re all cooking but here’s the menu.

Thank you for decorating the dining room table fellahs…

making the cakes to hand round with the mulled cider to the arriving guests.

and for offering to make the meal…….

Maybe not eennee theeng but you sure said plenty thing.

Now after the meal you will be sure to light the log fire, won’t you? having stocked up all the log baskets first? We don’t want the guests to be cold in our Scottish climate. Or to have to go outside in the frost and rake about in the shed for more wood. [image error]

Mind you, I suppose you have fur coats? Then I need you to get the games started, Pass the Parcel and Pin the Star on the Tree, which the grandbaby ses he is well gonna win, Doorman and these other games you still need to plan, for when the evening guests arrive, cos you know evening time is ‘partay’ time.

Indeed it is. Now you’re getting this. I’m thinking maybe Rapid Response and Limericks but we need a few prize winning games, so get the thinking hats on.

Forget that presents stuff, Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without our family and friends around us, good food, good cheer AND the games to really get the party started. For me these are the things that make Christmas Day, the things I want to stand here again and see. The big things.

Now…a bit about this coastal romance group. They are authors and readers who love reading romance by the water, whether it be the ocean, a lake, a tropical island or any other body of water where heroes and heroines fall in love and live happily ever after.

Well actually now I think about it, there’s a swathe of Lady Fury set on a coast, not to mention backstory set on various islands, Malice and Sin from The Viking and the Courtesan get shipwrecked on an island, the Black Wolf from His Judas Bride lives in a cave on a shore, AND did I mention that Brittany from The Writer and The Rake is no stranger to Dundee?

AS for Christmas? Well, I believe Loving Lady Lazuli has a lot to do with Christmas.

Anyway, you can enter the rafflecopter by clicking on the link but in addition to the Gift card and the 30 ebooks, second prize, there’s also a daily chance to win an ebook. All you have to do is visit the authors on the list and leave a comment on their Christmas blog. Prizes will be drawn on Christmas Eve.

The post before mine is Rich Amooi. And tomorrow’s is Fiona McArthur

So what are you waiting for? Me to ask…is there anybody out there who can give these dudes the names of a few Christmas games my guests can play?

Elizabeth Ellen Carter

24th December: Prize Draw

Filed under: blogging, Romance Tagged: Annie Seaton, Christmas, Coastal Christmas Blog Hop, Giveaway, Scotland

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Published on December 12, 2017 13:54

Notoriously Mike Steeden

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Mike . My dearest hamster chums, I’ve heard tell that you only got as far as page 6 in my new book ‘Notoriously Naked Flames’ when you picked up on that most naughty of bad words ‘nakedness’.

I realize that being cloaked in permanent fur coats ‘nakedness’ is a tad alien to you and can but only issue a grovelling apology for any offence caused. However, do be warned there’s quite a lot more ‘nakedness’ throughout my tale. I have a feeling this could be a difficult chat…still, as I always say, ‘onwards and upwards’.

Mike. As for what next ? Well, the story shifts backwards in time in order to move forward. To explain, my lovely heroine, a small yet perfectly formed beautiful albino gal, is what is best described as a freelance assassin selling her consummate skills to government intelligence agencies far and wide in her quest to rid the world of those evil ones who have committed war crimes and such like. History has taught us that there were many such evil beings to be suitably ‘dealt with’ both during WW2 and immediately following the end of hostilities – the time zone the tale is set in.

I must stress, that insofar as one can with a fictional character, that I did ask her permission to be in an almost constant state of undress, whereupon she replied that she was fine with the idea on the proviso that her man did likewise. For his part, as any red-blooded chap would, he readily agreed!

Mike. Notwithstanding your perfectly reasonable request that I write a book just for you guys and gals I simply don’t have it in me. You must realize that my 115th birthday approaches and I tire easily. However, to make part amends herewith a poem penned especially for you. It goes by the name of Shey’s Brood

I hear there’s a new breed of golden hamsters who’ve colonized The Moon

They lay claim to being far better than the rest

Yet when playing the game of ‘Mirror, Mirror on the wall’

The Mirror answers, ‘I think you’ll find Shey’s brood are still the best’

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Mike. Writing a book was the hardest thing this meagre brain of mine has ever undertaken. Worse even than being asked to spell ‘yacht’ on pain of death at infant school all those years gone!

Mike. From the outset, the lovely Shey warned me that this would be so, advising me that anything worth attempting would, by necessity, be hard work demanding patience, determination and commitment – all things that don’t come easy to me. It is not praise for the sake of praise when I truthfully say Ms S is an inspiring gal, a fact I imagine others can also verify. Also, her counselling, pointing out that writing the last word to the last chapter by no means meant the job was complete proved to be a truth if ever a truth existed. My eternal thanks, Shey. This was all new to me, the one who generally writes ‘almost poetry’.[image error]

Shey. Yes you do know her and she is going to ask the next question.

Shey. The period leading up to the Second World War seems to hold a special fascination for you. Why is that?

Mike. I have long since been obsessed with the period twixt the two World Wars. Especially so, The Crazy Years of a Paris that endured despite itself. The Montparnasse district of the city, a place of café culture, boozy tobacs and artists’ studios, a magnet for budding intellectuals, philosophers, painters, photographers, writers from not just France, but from all over the planet.

EPSON MFP image

In short, The Crazy Years spawned an anarchic avant-garde; became a place where free-thinkers lived out the Bohemian ambition to the full as a matter of course. Within the currency of that twenty-year timespan the place was a nonconformist domicile for the likes of Hemingway, Man Ray, Picasso, Matisse, Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound, James Joyce, Scott Fitzgerald, Salvador Dali, even political exiles such as Leon Trotsky, and that is merely scratching at the surface.

Art movements, from Art Deco, Cubism, Surrealism, indeed more ‘ism’s than one could shake a stick at flourished. From my perspective, who in their right mind would not want to be part of that scene. I have said many times that even in the knowledge of the ever-growing cancer that was Nazism would all too soon herald the demise of such outlandish, often provocative self-indulgence, I would, be it in the gambit of Godly gift travel back in time and stay for as long as the place would have me. That, in essence is why I decided my book would be set in the period the wild days were ending and a new, dark order was to hold sway.

Mike. It is true my heroine does not, by necessity, have a name.

Mike. As is revealed in the book, in her early years she followed her artistic bent, becoming an exotic dancer in the decadent basement dives of a Weimar – pre the rise of Hitler – Berlin.

That fact, plus later, playing the game that is espionage posed her problems simply because her unusual beauty coupled with her albinism meant she could be easily recognized by her many enemies. One way of making her life a little safer was to never reveal her name, thus making it harder to track her down through official sources. Additionally, she has a secret relating to her pedigree, a secret she wishes to keep under wraps even beyond the grave; a secret that might just change the world views of the high and mighty should it become public knowledge.

The aspect of undisclosed lineage is dealt with toward the end of the book. Does her secret get out? I’m not saying!

As to the subject of sweet Svetlana…I will never understand just what she sees in this crippled geriatric billionaire that is me…who has taken pride of place in many a short story I have penned, a girl who has selflessly tended to my every need, all I can say is that within the pages of Notoriously Naked Flames there is a gal who heralds from the self-same pastures as dear Svet, namely Romania. Indeed, this gal may even be Svet’s younger sister for all I know! Her name is Zada, a compassionate creature who may never have caressed my Havana, fondled my ear trumpet, rubbed my monocle clean or fetched me my evening glass of fine port, yet she is a diamond gal and a true friend of my two wild protagonists. I’ll not have a bad word said of her.

Mike. Do you know, I haven’t bumped into Jonny since the old King died. The last I heard of him he was in South America, Brazil I think, adjusting the water pressure – he is a plumber after all – of a gal by the name of Carolee Croft. She writes some jolly fine risqué books I’ve heard tell. One thing is for sure though, Jonny (who’s adoration of fairer sex is the stuff of legend) would have his own salivating take on my heroine, more so than usual as she’s mostly got her kit off.

Mike. Listen to Shey, not me.

Mike. I’m not sure.

Mike.

I have a character in my head,

https://mikesteeden.wordpress.com/

inevitably a lovely girl. This one has gone quite bonkers yet sees her madness as a positive thing; an escape from the mundane rituals of everyday life. I’ve penned a few thousand words yet worry what I have is presently a tad too surreal. That it works inside this head of mine does not mean it would make any sense to the world at large. It would be presumptuous of me to think otherwise. Time will tell. Certainly, I’d relish the challenges of writing another book.

Blulrb on Vimeo Music by Zoolon Audio.

Notoriously Naked Flames from Mike Steeden on Vimeo.

EXTRACT …EARLY SUMMER 1952 – SUSSEX, ENGLAND (page 6)

She examines her defenceless giant searchingly as he bathes. He, the one who is a portrayal of rare full-fledged innocence, and wonders if the macrocosm inside his head replicates the one outside of hers. She hopes against hope that locked within exists a rainbow’s multi-coloured arc, or is all this lost upon the extraordinary self, empty of speech, hearing and sight, unaware that gesture is the only language he bestows. Touch and smell his native inside-out lone connection.

She communicates as best she can. Upon his awakening, she is always there. Her ‘hello of sorts’ a lover’s tangled tongue kiss. No passion though, they are no longer the passing lovers they once were. More that the sharing of her unique taste serves to let him perceive her, recognize her. Always has him gift a beaming smile just for her. She wears the self-same perfume each new day also, it helps him identify her proximity.

With no great difficulty she aids him out of the bath, warm towels, warm heart care. Time for drying and dressing, though the palaver of dressing irks him, induces a frown. Regardless he is immune to nakedness within his ambushed consciousness, his curious dominion. Not for him the embarrassment of the earthly collective.

The sun shone the day before. Albeit keeping a caring eye open, she chose to let him wander the lawn, uncovered. From nowhere a summer storm brewed, small hailstones. She watched as he held out his palms, threw his head back, greeted the spheres of water ice, an air of amazement, no suffering.

The eternal ‘what next’ frustrates her day; muddles her mood. She undresses, calculates he may have no recollection that human beings come in two packages. Her hands upon his chest, fingers spread wide, sensation of touch inviting. Invitation accepted, he mirrors her actions, stroke for stroke, his look curious, questioning, captivated. No folly in innocent exploration.

A telephone outside of his realm rings. Might be important, she pulls away. Notices he sheds a single loaded tear, from which continent of emotion it heralds, likely she will never unearth.

He has been this way ever since she rescued him.

Part espionage thriller, part romance, part fantasy, part adventure, ‘Notoriously Naked Flames’ is Mike Steeden’s first novel. Spanning the lead up to World War II, the war itself, and into the early 1950s, the unnamed heroine of the piece, a bewitching albino of Bohemian bent, masquerades in all manner of risqué guises dishing out her own version of clandestine justice to those evil souls spawned of conflict’s disregard for compassion, law, and order. She also finds herself nursing her lover, a giant of an Englishman once in the employ of MI5, back to a semblance of his former self following his torture at the hands of Cold War Soviets that had left him deaf, mute, and blind. Her task is made a little easier with the help an Eastern European girl she befriends in bizarre circumstance.

Together, the trio of ‘Notoriously Naked Flames’ takes on life in all its demonstrative disguises while the racy heroine keeps under wraps her tale of otherworldly evolution, for were it to become known to the public at large, it might just invalidate religion as we know it and bring forth a new Dark Age. Can she keep safe her secret?

Filed under: Author Interviews, blogging, book tour, writing Tagged: Adventure fantasy, Espionage thriller, fantasy, Mike Steeden, New book, Notoriously Naked Flames, Paris

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Published on December 04, 2017 11:04

Deck the halls with the usual boughs

Shey, aw come on fellahs, cos I take out things like my ancient fairy that only got one arm, not looking at anyone here…….

and the plastic Santa my mum got in Hongkong just after the war …and all is good with the world.

Christmas is often a looking back. But it’s not all about nostalgia. For me it was everything that went into the making of that day, no matter where people were in their lives, what they had, didn’t. And I think it’s almost a ritual where we hold onto something small in order to hold onto something bigger.

Shey. Yeah but what she is really holding onto is so much bigger. It’s the order of the life she’s made for herself, the house she’s poured everything she has, including herself, into, since losing her husband and child one dark and stormy night. On page one she’s just lost that house and everything in it. What do you do when you have nothing, not even the Christmas garlands, the clothes on your back? Do you give up? Succumb to the fact you’re so cursed, everything you touch turns to ashes– because it does? So, being a corpse in many ways why should it matter?

Or, because these things are all you have left and you’re not quite the corpse you think, do you make a stand, knowing what you are throwing on the table doesn’t matter. isn’t worth a worn farthing? Whoever touches you will die anyway. A problem shared is a problem halved after all, is this woman’s motto.

Shey. Indeed there will be a hamster reference.

Shey. Last book, a two headed hamster. This one a mealy mouthed hamster. Of course the whole thing is fanciful.

Shey. When you finish it. 85 thou words is good dudes but you need to stop fiddling with the Christmas decs

and finish it. Then you need to decide what publishing route to take on this one. But if it’s the one I think you’re considering, it should be Spring. You can do the cleaning first. Dear little dudes, I do hope this has got you into the spirit of Christmas. Thank you for letting me on my own blog.

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Extract.

“Then… if you didn’t win…”

“No. I suppose that’s what I meant when I said I wasn’t a gentleman.”

“I’m sorry, Mr…Mr Wryson, you will think me vague but the truth is I really don’t understand what you being, or not being a gentleman, has to do—”

“I’m acting on behalf of my employer.”

“Your employer?”

So it was true? She’d lost Doom Bar Hall. Still, she’d made this decision before this man walked in here. How he looked, how old he was, who he was, had made no difference then. Why should it now? She’d die sooner than let this place go.

“He thought there would be difficulties you see.”

“Apart from my brother lying drunk on the floor there, I can’t imagine how.”

“Well he did. And that was why he asked me to spy out the lie of the land. After all, this is quite a house to lose–”

“Do you think I don’t know that? That is why my offer is the same because I don’t intend to lose it–”

“Especially when there’s past associations.”

“Past associations.” She resisted the urge to finger her throat, which prickled as if a moth’s wing was stuck in it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean my employer once lived—not in the house itself—but on the estate, and is known to you.”

“Known?”

She swallowed the astonishment sitting suddenly like ice in her mouth. There was only one man she could think of who had done that but of that one man, she did not want to think. Not when the blood drained from her face, the floor loomed so perilously close she struggled to stand in her black slippers and Orwell staggered to his feet.

“Dstny…old gal, I triled to tell you. But you…you… Anyway, you’re nlot seris…”

“Unless the name Divers O’Roarke is unfamiliar to you, Miss Rhodes?” Gil Wryson voice was oiled velvet.

“Divers O’Roarke?”

How did she say the name as if it was nothing to her, the name of the man who had cursed them, cursed her loudest of all?

Because she must.

“No. I believe I have vague memories of him.”

“Good, because he is waiting outside. I will be sure to pass the details of your offer to him if you still desire it.”

Before she could think whether she did or not, whether the word desire was putting it rather strongly, or she should change her mind, a footfall sounded in the candlelit doorway behind her.

“Good evening, Destiny,” clanged the sounding bell of hell and that damnably soft, Irish voice, she recognised from that same place. “I see you haven’t changed.”