Penny Watson's Blog, page 49

The Martini Club: Casey Wyatt's Frozen Mocha

Welcome back to The Martini Club! Today, I am happy to have Casey Wyatt....er, rather Devlin, one of her naughty characters, visiting. He's providing us with a delicious, non-alcoholic beverage recipe. So, if you're looking for something fun to make for the kids while you're sipping your frozen mango martini, or if you prefer non-alcoholic beverages yourself (God bless you!), then check out this tasty treat.
Thanks to Casey for the recipe!
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Frozen Mocha-loco! By Casey Wyatt Devl
Pssst. Hey!  Yeah, you.
I assume you're here for Penny's Martini Club.  Me too!
Nice to meet you.
I'm Devlin Ward, the charming and handsome Satyr from Mystic Ink. I'm not a goat bastard regardless of what Nix says.
Casey Wyatt couldn't be here today, so I've stepped in for her.
Actually, I peeked at her e-mail.
All right, I snooped.  I hear Penny has a thing for beards. Maybe she'll like me. Satyrs are naturally well-endowed . . . in the facial hair department. What? Did you think I'd brag about my junk in public?
Get your mind out of the gutter. We're talking about cocktails today.
Penny asked Casey to send in a recipe for her new Sunday series celebrating cocktails. And I couldn't resist sharing one of my alcohol free recipes. Feel free to sneak in a nip or two of your favorite spirit. Me. I've sworn off the stuff since I woke up in the woods with grass in my mouth and a raging hang-over.
Any way.
If you love ice cream and chocolate, then you won't be able to pass this up! And if you're ever in Mystic, CT, stop by Fawn's Pawns and say hello to me. 
Until we meet again . . .
~Devlin Ward~

Ingredients:
2 envelopes hot cocoa mix½ cup milk1 ½ cups of vanilla ice cream (or chocolate if you prefer)1 ¼ tsp instant coffee 1 cup of ice
In a blender: mix all ingredients until well combined. You may need to add more milk depending on how thick you like your drinks. Me, I like it thick enough for a spoon to stand upright.
Be adventurous - experiment! Use one envelope of hot cocoa, instead of two. Or omit the coffee and drizzle in peanut butter ice cream topping instead.
P.S. If you have no idea who I am, then check out Mystic Ink by Casey Wyatt, where yours truly is the star.
Okay. Slight exaggeration. But Casey promises that I will have my own book someday soon.
Here's the 411:
The last thing Nix, a Sea Nymph, wants to see behind the dumpster near her tattoo shop is another dead mortal. She also doesn't want to hear Hades piss and moan about how the souls of the dead aren't making it to the Underworld. And Nix certainly doesn't want to be attracted to supernatural police agent, Calder Quinne when he comes to investigate. All Nix really wants is to run her tattoo shop in peace and quiet. Hey, we don't always get what we want, now do we?
Available at these fine retailers. Sadly, not at Fawn's Pawns. I deal only in freaky material objects.
Amazon
B&N 
Soul Mate Publishing  

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Thanks so much to Devlin and Casey for the delicious recipe. I adored Mystic Ink and can't wait to read the next one in the series!
Happy Sloshy Sunday To All!Penelope

10 Shades of Yellow

For those of you who are so sick of hearing about that other book, here is an alternative. (Yellow is so much nicer than grey). Enjoy!


10 Shades of Yellow
#1

#2

#3


#4

#5


#6


#7


#8

#9


#10


Don't forget to stop by tomorrow for The Martini Club. Casey Wyatt is making a wickedly delicious frozen mocha. 
Happy Sunny Yellow Saturday!Penelope

Give Me An "E"!

Give me an "E"!!!!"E"!!!Give me a "D"!!!"D"!!!!
Give me an....oh never mind. I'm working on edits today.

In related news, I discovered that I have an inordinately high number of Spongebob jpegs on my computer. Interesting.
I finished reading Chill by Stephanie Rowe. I really enjoyed this romantic suspense, set in Alaska. I'm thinking of starting a new bookshelf at Goodreads....Kick-Ass Alaskan Tales.
I also started Gail Carriger's last Parasol book, Timeless . My initial impressions....love the new baby, not loving the tedious descriptions of wall-paper.
I didn't find any hot beardy guys for today, but in keeping with the Spongebob theme, here ya go.... King Neptune. He's green, he's beardy, and he has a mer-man tail!


Hope everyone has a great day!Penelope

Coming Soon To A Kindle Near You: Lumberjack In Love

Yesterday I finally typed The End on my manuscript. *Choir of angels singing!*
*Jumping up and down**Doing cabbage patch dance**Doing cartwheels (yeah, sure)**Leaning back in barcalounger chair with martini in one hand and stogie in the other*

Yes, Lumberjack In Love is done. (Except for edits, beta readers, more edits and revisions, formatting and downloading it to Amazon).
I'm hoping to get it out in a couple of months. My daughter asked me what happens at the end of the book, so I told her. Then she said, "So, it's a cliffhanger." And I said, "No, it's a romance. There's an HEA at the end. That's it. It's over." And she said, "Oh, it's a cliffhanger." Sigh. 
Anyhow, here's a little snippet to whet your appetite........From Lumberjack In Love......



            "Sis?"            "Uh huh?"             "You didn't send me up to that cabin on purpose, did you?"            "What do you mean?" Rachel continued to perform useless, table-organizing tasks.            Ami grabbed her sister's arm and spun her around. Rachel's eyes shifted nervously.            "Oh my God! You were trying to fix me up with Mr. Mountain Man, weren't you? You are pathetic! When are you going to stop trying to interfere with my life?"            "I am not interfering in your life. I just hate to see you close yourself off because of Dan the Dork. It's time to get back on the horse. Learn to ride a bike again. Grab life by its horns...."            "Stop. Please. You're mixing your metaphors. I am totally content with my life."            Rachel shook her head. "That's not true. Dan stole your share of the business and now you're lucky to get a job. And you're lonely. Don't lie to me, Ami. I know you. I just want you to be happy."            Ami sighed and rubbed the pounding spot on her forehead. "I know you mean well, but I am fine. Seriously. Sure, it's going to take some time to rebuild a client base after Dan stole my contacts, but eventually everything will work out. And, just for your information, not that it's any of your business, but I do go on dates. Last week I went out with a lawyer who works for the city."            "Another one of those pansy-ass guys who needs to grow a pair?" Her sister did not look impressed.            "God, you are so irritating! Just because a guy wears a suit does not mean he is a pansy-ass, Miss Vermont I-Don't-Shave-My-Pits Earth Goddess. Nature guys are all well and good until you try to have a normal conversation....."            "Are you saying that Doug is a bad conversationalist?" Rachel was fuming now.            Ami sighed dramatically. "No, of course not. Your husband is the rare combination of thoughtful, interesting conversationalist and brawny, outdoorsy woodsman. He's amazing. You're very lucky, Rach."            "Sweetheart," Rachel reassured her. "There is an amazing guy out there for you. The opposite of Dorky Dan-o. Someone you can trust who won't stab you in the back, steal your clients, and leave you hanging in the sack."            Ami gasped. "Christ Almighty, sis! I rue the day I ever told you that!"            Rachel giggled. "Well, you'd had a lot to drink. You were spilling secrets left and right that night. It was fun!"            Ami stared at the glass of wine in her hand and then gently placed it on the table. Note to self...watch wine consumption this evening.             "I haven't given up hope about finding a great guy. But I do not appreciate you playing matchmaker. There is no way in hell I'm getting involved with a giant, cranky, English bulldog-owning, playhouse-designing, bearded lumberjack who lives in the middle of the boonies!"            Rachel smiled and glanced over Ami's left shoulder. "Hi Marcus! Thanks so much for coming." She bit her lower lip, as her gaze lowered to the ground.             Ami narrowed her eyes and glared at her sister. "Funny. You expect me to believe that Marcus Anderson is standing behind me? Just how gullible do you think I am?"            A rumble in her ear had every hair on her body stand upright to attention. "Hmm. I see a bowl of macaroni and cheese. Did the kidlet already ding your fancy-pants dish?"            Ami turned her head just a fraction until Marcus Anderson's beard was a scant inch away from her face. Her beet red face.            "And, just for the record, I'm not cranky. Unless a flatlander trespasses on my property." He smiled and ambled off to the family room.            Rachel collapsed into a chair, laughing with wild abandon. "Oh my God. That was hilarious. I think he likes you. I saw him checking out your butt in those jeans."            Ami leaned down and poked Rachel in the chest. "You wanna eat that risotto tonight?"            Rachel nodded. "I love that stuff!"            "Fine. Then knock off the match-making. I can handle Mountain Boy by myself. I hope Natalie eats the damned risotto. Let's put some mac and cheese on top. She'll never notice."            "Okay. Just one thing." Rachel grabbed a shrimp from the top of the bowl and popped it into her mouth. "I don't think Marcus Anderson is a Mountain Boy." She raised an eyebrow at her sister. "He's a Mountain Man. All, one hundred percent, Vermont-raised, Sexy As Hell, Man." She winked at Ami and headed back into the kitchen.            Ami shivered once, a delayed reaction. Yep, man was right.

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Slurping my virtual martini,Penelope

In A World Without Beetles

Once upon a time, when I was young and stupid, I decided to grow roses. Not knowing that they have about 5,379 pest problems. I envisioned a gorgeous rose garden, with healthy plants, fragrant flowers, and lush foliage. What I got was a scraggly-ass plant, with anemic-looking flowers and so many insect infestations that I needed an entomology degree to figure them all out.

I was living in Vermont at the time, so I was totally organic, pesticide-free and proud of it, baby. When the Japanese beetles arrived on my poor little rose plant, I researched the best way to eliminate them using non-toxic methods. The recommendation was to blast them off with a hose. Okay. First day I got a few beetles, and shot them with some water. Second day, maybe fifty? By the third day there was a Roman orgy of beetles on that plant. It was like a Bookstrand book gone bad...M/F/M/F/M/F/M/F/M. There were so many beetles humping each other, I lost sight of the plant. It was like a giant humping orgy of beetles in the shape of a rose vine. Needless to say, shooting the beetles with water wasn't that effective. It would have required using a volume of water equivalent to the Atlantic Ocean. So, I said screw it. I'll plant sunflowers instead.

Anyhow, I just got my White Flower Farm catalogue this week. And lo and behold, there are some totally kick-ass rose plants in there. They look so alluring....lush, healthy, vibrant, with nary a horny, humping beetle in sight. I might just have to revisit this whole rose gardening thing.

Here are my favorite plants from the catalogue....


Rosa Penelope! Woo hoo!


Rosa Princess Margareta....love this color!


Rosa Charles Darwin....I'm a sucker for yellow roses.


Rosa Stormy Weather


Dreaming of a pest-free garden,Penelope

I Don't Need No Stinkin' Shirt, I'm A Lumberjack!

"....she saw Luke standing over a log with an axe in his hand....shirtless, sweat gleaming on his well-muscled upper body, his jeans slung low around his hips....He looked like a true-blooded Alaskan: tough, real, earthy, a man who could take anything life threw at him and decimate it simply with a hard glare."(from Chill by Stephanie Rowe)

*Penny falls over in a dead faint and has strange dreams about plaid shirts*
Happy Tuesday,Penelope

Gold and Honey

I read two good books this weekend. One was gold. And one was honey (buns).
1.) In the Flesh by Julia Barrett
This is the follow-up to Incorporeal . There were some wonderful things about this short story. I adored the romantic premise of an immortal making the ultimate sacrifice to come back to earth so he could experience love. Wolf is an amazing hero....super sexy and protective. Syd is a scrappy heroine, juggling a medical position and all of the grueling responsibilities of running her own ranch. There was lots of intense sexual chemistry going on. And the whole image of a golden man falling to earth, and spilling molten gold in his path, was fabulous. And symbolic. I just had two issues with this story. Although I enjoyed all the ranching details, I did think they interrupted the flow of the story just a bit. And second of all, I loved the final manifestation of "Lucas" at the end too much. It was the perfect ending to the story, but....I wanted the story to keep going at this point. Lucas and Syd together were pure gold. I was sort of bummed when the story was over. 
Barrett has packed true romance into this one. Here is my favorite quote from the story...
"I did not wish to spend eternity never knowing what it is to love a woman, body and soul....I would rather die a thousand deaths as a mortal than live forever alone."
Swoon-tastic, baby!
Grade: B+
2.) Honeybun in a Loin Cloth by Sam Cheever
I bought this book for two reasons. One, after seeing a blog post at Babbling About Books, I was intrigued by the ridiculous title and cover. And two, after checking out the Goodreads page for the author Sam Cheever, I noticed she had a dachshund in her arms! Win! Kooky book, doxie lover....I just couldn't resist.
Never, in a million years, did I expect a book with the title Honeybun in a Loin Cloth to be a regular old romantic suspense novel. I've read some wacky books in my day. Books about orca shape-shifters. Bigfoot. Hairy beary guys who like honey. The last book I read with a loin cloth had a time warp, dinosaurs, and bands of marauding cavemen ( Island Heat ). It's never good to mislead your readers. (See post I wrote about putting hot scruffy lumberjack guys on the bookcover when the hero is really a weenie executive). 
I realized fairly quickly that the kookiest thing about this book was the fact that the hero's last name is Honeybun. This is a good, solid suspense novel, with lots of twists and turns in the plot to keep you guessing about the mystery. The Honeybun family has some quirky characters, but otherwise this book has the standard fare....sexy times between hero and heroine, complex mystery, suspense, some humorous bits, too. It was too long for my liking....I like my books fairly fast-paced. But Cheever is a good writer, and the Honeybun guys are sexy, smart and loyal. The thing that really threw me off was that title. I have no idea why the author/publisher chose this title, but it's definitely not a good match for this book. So, in conclusion, I was disappointed that the book wasn't wacky. But I was pleasantly surprised that it was a well-written and sexy suspense.
Grade: B
Hankering for some honey buns,Penelope

The Martini Club: Cocktail (the movie), An Original Piece of Flash Fiction by Tom Andrews

Tom Andrews and I met over cocktails. (On Twitter). He made fun of my love of girly martinis, pointing out that a "real" martini is gin, vermouth and an olive, with no apples or tinis anywhere in sight.


I decided to check out his website and was thrilled to find out---not only is he a martini-snob, but he has a ridiculously cool headshot....






....and, he is the author of some seriously quirky and deranged flash fiction. According to Wikipedia, flash fiction is "a style of fictional literature or fiction of extreme brevity." In other words, a super quickie. (Somewhere between about 50-1000 words).


According to Tom's bio, he specializes in "short stories, flash fiction and tales of the bizarre." Influences on his writing include F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Quentin Tarantino. (Which I don't find surprising in the least).


Since I love quirky, deranged stuff, I am totally digging his stories. They are not for the faint of heart. After reading one of his recent works, Nonpareil, I developed a fear of pies. 


Obviously inspired by the mix of topics on my blog (romance, alcoholic beverages, beard-worship, and general pandemonium), Tom has written an original piece just for The Martini Club! So here it is...an original story by Tom Andrews, aptly titled Cocktail (the movie). He has included a recipe for a "holy manhattan" in here, too. Enjoy!


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Cocktail (the movie)by Tom Andrews
"Kookle-dicky-do!" cried the guard-chicken that was stationed outside the entrance to little Mikey Nitrous' underground love-bunker. "Kookle-dicky-do!"
Little Mikey Nitrous figured that it must be his cherry-pickers returning from their labors, and he was right. Squawkey, Mutt, and Jivaro, Mikey's three classmates and henchmen, had just returned from their cherry-seeking expedition to the maraschino bogs of Weaverton, and their cherry sacks were stuffed and bulging. Jivaro even walked with a limp, so full was his sack.
"Nice job, my pale-faced homies," said little Mikey, inspecting the cherry haul. "There is hope for my plan." He returned to a drawing board full of calculations and figures, and with satisfied groans the cherry-pickers emptied their sacks into professionally-prepared cherry jars.
"Mikey," asked Mutt, his pasty buttocks jiggling as he shook his cherry sack, "what are we doin' with all of these cherries, again?"
"They are the vital ingredients in the potion I must serve to the captive," responded little Mikey, his eyes glowing. "If I ever wish to achieve my goal, I must have cherries fresh from the maraschino bogs!"
Their cherry sacks now emptied, Squawkey, Mutt, and Jivaro now trundled their pasty little behinds out of the underground love-bunker and up to the tree house for a nice afternoon of iced tea and Maj-Jongg. Mikey sat up from his calculations, switched on an overhead projector, and stared at the screen. He read aloud, letting every word soak into his memory:
"Two ounces of bourbon. Shaka-laka hamm." He shook his pizanga to the left.
"A half-ounce of sweet vermouth. Shaka-laka hula. " He shook his pizanga to the right.
"A dash of bitters. Shaka-lima holy hobbit." He shook his pizanga in a circular pattern.
"Pour over cracked ice and stir. Shit-be dangle hobby-hole." He let his pizanga go limp and rested it on the counter.
"Strain into a cocktail glass and garnish with the ever-loving holy cherries from the maraschino bogs of Weaverton. Hebbede, hobbede, habbede hucker-mother futher-lover." Little Mikey Nitrous pranced in a circle as he gathered all of his ingredients and then performed the steps just as he had read them. Moments later a holy manhattan stood upon the counter-top, pure in its radiant glory. He picked up the cocktail glass ever so carefully, and strode out of the workroom and down the hallway, ever deeper into his subterranean love-bunker.
As he neared the door to the containment facility, he could hear the strained breathing of his captive. He poked first one, and then both of his beady little eyes over the top of the razor-ribbon-topped containment wall. His captive sat motionless on the ground, her knees pulled up to her chest, her head down and her blond tresses spilling over her arms. Mikey unlocked the door and let himself into her cell.
The prisoner sat up with a start. "What do you want with me?" she cried.
"You, little lady, are going to help me realize my dream!"
"Me? I just want to go back to my electrolysis clinic in peace!"
"Aha, little lady...not before you help me realize my dream! And here is the key component to success!" He reached down and handed her the manhattan. The prisoner suspiciously accepted the drink, holding the stem of the glass between her thumb and forefinger, rotating the glass and inspecting the reddish contents. The fresh Weaverton bog-cherry bounced happily in the bottom.
"Is this a...a..."
"Yes," said little Mikey, "it is a holy manhattan, garnished with an ever-loving holy cherry from the maraschino bogs of Weaverton."
"I purely love manhattans," said the golden-tressed electrolysis technician, her one unclouded eye sparkling like the foil wrapper on a suppository.
"I would only figure that to be the case, knowing, as I do, that electrolysis technicians power their internal engines on the sublime cocktail that is the manhattan. But I also know about the awesome power the bog-cherry imparts to the most sacred cocktail. That is why I have been sending out cherry-pickers every day for weeks in order to gather enough of the fruit of the maraschino bogs of Weaverton – so that I might have libation-offerings of a sufficient caliber and quantity to offer at your altar, oh golden tressed one." Mikey bowed low.
His captive took a long sip. "Mmmm. Perfect." She rolled her one good eye back into her head and heaved a contented sigh.
"So..." said little Mikey, rubbing his hands together nervously, "my plan...? My plan to carry out my dreams...my dreams of...of...of...of true love?"
"Well," said the young lady, draining the glass in a single swallow and holding it out for little Mikey to refill, "it depends."
"Depends?" said Mikey. "It depends on what?"
"Well, if you can get me another one of those holiest of holy, mother of buddha manhattans," she said, wiping her lips, "I'll remove every last mother-loving hair from your body...including that long, annoying one that's wiggling off the mole on your left ear."
"No!" cried little Mikey, bursting into tears, "I want you to reverse the process!"
"What do you mean?"
"The bog cherry is renowned for giving reversal-capabilities to the most gifted electrolysis technicians when consumed in a perfectly mixed manhattan..." said Mikey, "that is what I need..."
"You want me to put hair ON to your body rather than take it off?"
Mikey continued sobbing ever so gently. "I'm the smoothest little boy at school. I can't grow a single whisker," he answered through his tears, "except for the one on my ear mole, of course. And there is not a single girl who will give me the time of day. How will I ever find a date for the mid-winter pork chop dance?"
The electrolysis artist stood up and put her hand on little Mikey's shoulder. "Hey, it's OK...lots of girls find clean-shaven guys attractive."
"They do?" asked Mikey.
"Sure," she said, drawing closer, "in fact, I think you look great with just the one whisker on your ear."
"Really?"
"Absolutely...and if you bring me another one of these holiest of holy, mother of buddha manhattans ...and bring one for yourself, we could maybe talk about what I should wear to the pork chop dance."
Mikey was nearly speechless. "Pork...chop...dance...? Really? And we could even dance the slow 'gristle dance' together?"
"Put an extra holy cherry in there and you got a deal," she said with an alluring wink.
And so it was that joy reigned in the underground love-bunker and little Mikey Nitrous saw light and hope and promise. Unbeknownst to them, Squawkey, Mutt, and Jivaro would soon have smooth, hairless dreams flitting through their noggins. And the friendship that was being forged deep in that underground containment facility could one day grow into the greatest love of all.
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Heeeeeeee! Oh, snap! Love it! My favorite line is "Jivaro even walked with a limp, so full was his sack." Ha! Naughty!
Anyhow, hope you enjoyed this fabulous piece. I will leave you with an excellent photo of Tom enjoying his favorite drink....the classic martini. With nary a jigger of pomegranate juice anywhere in sight.


Sloshy Days!Penelope

My First Concert

My first concert....Devo at the Stanley Theatre, Pittsburgh, PA, 1980. That was an education. I was a middle schooler wearing a turtleneck, surrounded by folks with chains hanging between their nose and ears. Good times!
Whip It Good!

Devo - Whip It by jpdc11


Whip it,
Penny

Beard of the Day

Today's beardy fella is none other than Ernest Hemingway. Here he is rocking his literary-style beard, and snuggling with one of his weird 6-toed cats. (They still hang around the Hemingway House in Key West...I saw them there when we were visiting years ago).
This one's for you, Tom Andrews! 
Tom will be our illustrious guest on Sunday for The Martini Club. Don't miss it! He is sharing a cocktail-inspired piece, aptly titled Cocktail (the movie). He manages to pack in romance, disturbing imagery, a pot-shot at my beard fetish, and a recipe for a "holy manhattan" in one short piece of flash fiction. I laughed my ass off reading this bit o' brilliance!
Here's a nice quote from Ernie....(I think Tom will approve.....)
"A man's got to take a lot of punishment to write a really funny book."
Ouch.
Happy Beardy Friday,Penelope