C.D. Hersh's Blog, page 67
July 16, 2021
Friday Feature New Book by Carol Browne
High praise for Carol Browne’s latest book that is a beautiful anthology of poems and short stories.
No one says it better than an Amazon reviewer who describes the book as “atmospheric”:
“The poetry is steeped in a love of nature, magic and mythology. The short stories hold interesting twists. No spoilers! The Boomerang Effect (dabbling with a love spell, Martin Nevis finds himself having second thoughts) A Force to Be Reckoned With (an outcast with thoughts of being “destined for something great” wants to join the police force) and Transformation (once bullied, Patricia attends a school reunion and emerges victorious) were my favorites.
Give this anthology collection of short stories a read, you won’t be disappointed.”
BLURB
An elf laments a passing era,
But truth and beauty will survive,
For they live on in stories and verses,
And in our imaginations thrive.
Nature, nostalgia, mystery and magic,
In twisty tales and poems that rhyme,
Are here, with myth and fantasy blended,
To capture another place and time.
BUY LINKS
Once upon a time a little girl wrote a poem about a flower.
Impressed, her teacher pinned it to the wall and, in doing so, showed the child which path to follow.
Over the years poems and stories flowed from her pen like magic from a wizard’s wand.
She is much older now, a little wiser too, and she lives in rural Cambridgeshire, where there are many trees to hug.
But inside her still is that little girl who loved Nature and discovered the magic of words.
She hopes to live happily ever after.
Stay connected with Carol on her website and blog, Facebook, and Twitter.
July 13, 2021
Wednesday Special Spotlight Italian sausage and veggie Casserole
An Italian dish full of sausage and veggies that’s guaranteed to put a smile on your face, and a napkin on your lap. The preparation takes about half an hour, with a bake time of 25 minutes, a setting time of 10 minutes, and serves ten of your hungriest family or friends. This hearty meal is ideal for those weekend warriors set to do some renovations at their home or cottage. Serve with a side salad, garlic bread, and your choice of wine, and you’ve got the makings of a trip to Italy without leaving the comforts of your home.
Potluck Penne and Sausage Casserole
16 ounces penne pasta
1 lb. bulk Italian sausage
1 tbsp. butter
1 tbsp. olive oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 medium carrot, finely chopped
1½ tsp. dried oregano
1 tsp. salt
½ tsp. pepper
1 small zucchini, halved lengthwise and sliced
1 cup chopped fresh mushrooms
6 garlic cloves, minced
15 oz. tomato sauce
14 oz. pasta sauce with meat
2 cups shredded part-skimmed mozzarella cheese
Preheat oven to 350° F.
Cook pasta according to package directions for al dente; drain and transfer to greased 13 x 9 inch baking dish.
Fry sausage in a large skillet over medium heat until no longer pink, about 6-8 minutes, breaking into crumbles. Drain and remove from pan.
In same skillet, heat butter and oil over medium-high heat. Add onion, carrot, oregano, salt and pepper. Cook 5 minutes and stir frequently. Add zucchini, mushroom and garlic. Cook 6 – 8 minutes or until vegetables are tender. Be sure to stir often.
Add tomato sauce, pasta sauce, and sausage. Pour the mixture over pasta. Sprinkle with cheese.
Cover casserole with foil coated with cooking spray. Bake 10 minutes. Uncover. Bake until golden brown and cheese is melted, 15-20 minutes longer. Let stand 10 minutes before serving.
Once dinner is done, and you’ve had your last sip of wine, I’m sure you’ll be ready to escape into your living room for some much-needed quiet time. Why not make a cup of tea, then relax with one of my books? May I suggest a nostalgic visit to Fairy Falls or perhaps go back in time with The Last Timekeepers? Just remember to breathe once in a while as you’re being led on a bumpy, unpredictable ride along with my characters.
Here’s a glimpse of the premises of both my young adult series:
Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mysteries…
Imagine a teenager possessing a psychic ability and struggling to cope with this freakish power while trying to have a normal life. Now, imagine being uprooted and forced to live in a small tourist town where nothing much ever happens. It’s bores-ville from the get-go.
Welcome to Fairy Falls. Expect the unexpected.
The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventures…
Chosen by an Atlantean Magus to be Timekeepers—legendary time travelers sworn to keep history safe from the evil Belial—five classmates are sent into the past to restore balance, and bring order back into the world, one mission at a time.
Children are the keys to our future. And now, children are the only hope for our past.
The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventure Series:
The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret, Book #2
Buy Links:
MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀
The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis, Book #1 Buy Links:
MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀
Legend of the Timekeepers, prequel Buy Links:
MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀
Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mystery Series:
Lost and Found, Book One Buy Links:
MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE ׀
Blackflies and Blueberries, Book Two Buy Links:
MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE
Sharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/YA time travel series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS, and the teen psychic mystery series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY FALLS. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, exercising, anything arcane, and an occasional dram of scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet busy life in a southern tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, one spoiled yellow Labrador and a moody calico cat.
Learn more about Sharon Ledwith on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter, and Smashwords. Look up her Amazon Author page for a list of current books. Be sure to check out THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS TIME TRAVEL SERIES Facebook page.
Tell Again Tuesday Time provides a writer’s revisions
#WRITERS – DON’T STRESS OVER YOUR WRITING – THE FUTURE YOU WILL SORT IT!By Lucy Mitchell
Here’s a secret about writing which I have discovered – some stories you write will not turn out the way you expected them to because they are meant to be improved and perfected by the future you.
The future you will one day turn the . . .
For the rest of the blog go to:July 8, 2021
Friday Feature Beyond The Simple Bio
I am a young adult author with type 1 diabetes. Why is that little fact important? Maybe it isn’t, but it has shaped me as a writer, a mother, and a person, whether I wanted it to or not. I didn’t by the way. I have never shared this publicly as I am a very private person. However, this is important because I’m not the only person dealing with type 1. You see, my younger brother had been diagnosed at the age of fifteen with the same disease. I watched how it ravaged his body over a short period of time. I saw firsthand how it attacks—one tiny blood vessel at a time until there’s nothing you can do to reverse the damage. I also remember quite clearly my mother being afraid to help him. He was on his own and terrified.
Eight years after his passing, I was thirty-one, active, slender and continuing to lose weight even though my weekly running had slowed. I had developed an unquenchable, burning thirst, my fairly good vision was growing blurry, and my strong legs were cramping in the middle of the night. I knew in my heart what it was. I’d seen the symptoms in my brother a decade earlier. After three months of denial, I went to the hospital where I was diagnosed with what the doctors’ thought was type 2 diabetes. They explained I was too old to have type 1.
However, I was running twenty miles a week. I kept asking myself, “How could it be type 2?” My husband told me he could see how thin I’d gotten and was concerned the doctors were wrong. They insisted and put me on an oral medication that clearly wasn’t going to work. It didn’t. The antibody test came back positive and the fact was, my immune system had turned on me. The insulin producing cells in my pancreas were destroyed and would never return.
It was a death sentence as far as I knew. I, too, was terrified. I had a husband and two young children. I had a life I wanted to live for as long as I could. I knew the chronic disease would kill me, if I let it. If I let it. So, I committed to not let it destroy me like it had with my brother. I’m not kidding. I was scared to death, but the disease that had taken him wasn’t going to take me.
I went to my medical appointments, feeling so desperately alone. I also went to support meetings at my local hospital, which were actually the opposite of support. There I met with fellow type 1 patients who had refused to accept the disease and its mighty power and that scared the hell out of me. They hadn’t seen what the monster could do. After two meetings, I never went back. They seemed to be in denial and denial was not an option for me. If I encountered another type 1 at a social event, I latched onto them like they were a life raft, but none of them seemed to be on the same path as myself. I acknowledge that everyone with the disease has to come to terms with it on their own and figure out their own plan.
My plan was to respect the monster, and in return my diligence would keep the monster at bay so as to allow me to live as normally as possible. Day by day. Some days great. Some not so great. But good health was and continues to be my goal.
I started my healthcare regimen with old-fashioned syringes and vials, moved on to insulin pens, and finally graduated to wearing top-notch medical equipment in the form of an insulin pump and a CGM (Continuous Glucose Monitor) in one of arms (I switch it to the other arm every ten days). After almost twenty years, the last ten with tubes and gadgets attached to me, I’m pleased to say I have no blood vessel damage to my eyes or kidneys. This is my life. For the rest of my life, but I’m thankful to have the technology to maintain my good health and I’m most thankful for the years my brother didn’t have.
Am I scared? Every single day I wake up summoning courage to face the day. Type 1 is truly a monster that never quits. I’ve dealt with other beasts in my life, some of them in my own family, but this monster is a killer waiting to snatch another victim. However, like in a fairytale the point of a monster is that it is meant to instill fear and test the hero. Will the hero face her fear and defeat the it? In my own story, I have faced my fear, my greatest fear, but until they find a cure for type 1 diabetes, I won’t be able to defeat it. In the meantime, I will continue to battle it every single day with strength and steadfastness.
As far as writing, I’d love to craft a story that features a character with type 1. In the meantime, I am inspired by caffeine, enchanted spells, and unforgettable, star-crossed fates. Although I’m terrible at casting any magic of my own, I am descended from an accused witch, Elizabeth Duncan of Virginia, who went to trial in 1695 for charges including bewitching livestock and causing birds to fall from the sky. That’s pretty cool, right?
I am currently taking a charcoal drawing class and golf lessons to bring some new experiences to my writing. We’ll see how that goes! I have three published young adult novels, I am a member of SCBWI, and I graduated from the University of Maryland.
At present, I am working on a manuscript about a teen witch, Abigail, fighting for her right to practice witchcraft in a conservative southern town with a history of burning witches. As she finds herself irresistibly drawn to the tale of the Silver Moon Witch, trouble begins to find Abigail who’s discovering the witch’s story has dangerous parallels to her own life, especially when someone is watching, waiting to toss a match.
THE CHEESIEST SPINACH CASSEROLE
This is a healthy, low carb casserole that I enjoy making and it doesn’t raise my blood sugar levels!
20 oz. frozen spinach, thawed and squeezed dry
4 oz. cream cheese, cut into small cubes
1½ cups shredded Monterey jack cheese
6 slices bacon, fried and crumbled
4 large eggs, beaten
¼ cup butter, melted
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ tsp. salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Add all of the ingredients to a large mixing bowl and stir well to combine.
Spread mixture into an 8×8 baking dish and bake for 35-40 minutes or until the edges are golden and the center is set.
Serve immediately.
Recipe from THAT LOW CARB LIFE
Here’s a little from my latest novel to peak your interest.
Koush HollowWhere bayou magic abounds and all that glitters… is deadly. After her father’s untimely death, Jenna Ashby moves to Koush Hollow, a bayou town outside of New Orleans, dreading life with her wealthy mother.As the sixteen-year-old eco-warrior is introduced to the Diamonds & Pearls, her mother’s exclusive social club, she comes to the troubling realization that secrets are a way of life in Koush Hollow.
How do the Diamonds & Pearls look so young, where does their money come from, and why is life along the bayou disappearing?
As Jenna is drawn into their seductive world, her curiosity and concerns beg her to uncover the truth. However, in this town where mysticism abounds and secrets are deadly, the truth is not what Jenna could have ever imagined.
EXCERPT
Hayden shook his head. “I shouldn’t expect someone like you to care.”
“Like me? I’m not so different from you.”
He cocked his hands on his hips and stared into my eyes. He concentrated, searching for something. “Jenna, what if that were true? How would that fly with your Pearl friends?”
“What are saying?”
“The night of the beach party—you stayed under the water for minutes. I thought you were drowning.” His gaze lowered to my mouth, sending a warm flutter of butterflies inside me. “Maybe you’re more like me than you ever thought possible.”
Surprised, I pressed a hand to my stomach. I glanced back at the yacht club. “I-I have to go.” I stumbled into a walk. My mind raced. What was that look he gave me?
He followed after and grabbed onto my hand. Lightning flickered from his touch and ignited my nerves. The shiver ran the length of my arm and down to my toes. My heart raced. I turned and looked at him. I wanted to feel his eyes on my mouth again.
He held me fixed in his gaze. “Promise me if you decide to become a pearl girl, you’ll do it as an informed person.” His tone was deadly serious.
Right there, I felt the weight of his concern. I dropped my gaze. “Hayden, I’m too smart to be a part of something that is ethically bankrupt and environmentally dangerous, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Don’t let them change you into one of them.”
I touched my hand to his cheek and traced the line of his jaw. “Do you think my mother and her friends are really part of a pollution conspiracy and a murder cover-up?” I asked referring to his childhood recollection. “Do you think I’d ever want to be a part of that?”
He considered my argument for a brief second. “This is bigger than you, Jenna. It will suck you in, if you let it.”
Mama appeared behind me, interrupting the discussion. “Everything okay here?”
“Fine.” I breathed in and out as quietly as I could, waiting for my racing heart to settle down. “Hayden, this is my mother, Dr. Crossland. Mama, this is Hayden Black. We’re classmates and we were discussing a history assignment.”
She dissected him with her eyes and everything about her expression told me she did not approve.
BUY LINKSParliament House PressAmazon
Leigh Goff is a young adult author with type 1 diabetes who is inspired by caffeine, enchanted spells, and unforgettable, star-crossed fates.
Although she’s terrible at casting any magic of her own, she is descended from the accused witch, Elizabeth Duncan of Virginia, who went to trial in 1695 for charges including bewitching livestock and causing birds to fall from the sky.
You can find more information at www.LeighGoff.com and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.
July 6, 2021
Wednesday Special Spotlight How to Find Your Perfect Mate
The way I see it, it’s all about nature, selection of the fittest et al. Mother Nature is a clever old gal. She will coat her choice for you in pink clouds and rosy dreams of romance. Matter of fact, I’m convinced she invented romance. It’s the unidentifiable essence that attracts one gender to the other seemingly without reason or plan.
I mentioned her cleverness, right? What she wants is a balance, which, perhaps, is all about the continuation of the species. I can find no other explanation why I wound up with a mate the exact opposite of me. Couples are, by definition, two halves which make a whole. I have allowed for the attraction of natural curiosity, which is present in all humans, and perhaps all living things. I stare with blank shock at a man who will eat oatmeal every morning for 12 months of the year. And be content for that meal to continue indefinitely. Even if I ate the most delicious sausage link for six mornings, and loved it, the seventh day I would vomit. I have an innate need for variety. He is grounded in consistency. It plays out over most of our personal choices the same way. Our tastes are opposite.
I could attribute these differences to the male/female preferences, but must pay attention when, in the last coffee klatch, one lady swears she loves oatmeal for breakfast, but her husband needs variety. (He might be the one with the wobbly marriage, but you didn’t hear it from me.) No, I keep coming to the same conclusion.
On the whole, Mother Nature wants solidly conceived children, also a balanced family unit. So, she takes a person of a certain persuasion and a person with the opposite preferences and MATES them. For posterity. The glue that keeps these people in a constant tug of war is the very thing we call ‘romance.’ Sometimes we call it, ‘he’s driving me crazy.’ But it produces lovely well-balanced children, and fairly comfortable living conditions on a daily basis. He kills spiders and I deal with his mother. Mother Nature smiles benevolently down on couples grinding against one another (that’s not dirty, I swear) smoothing and rounding the obstinate edges, while romance acts as a sweet buffer.
The proof of my theory is when you see a couple in their waning days holding hands and deferring to their spouse’s tastes. He’s learned to eat oatmeal only three times a week and she joins him now and then. They smile at each other with fond memories of epic battles fought and won, mostly remembering only how sweet it was for the post-arguing make-up sex. Okay, that was a little risqué, but it was all the fault of Mother Nature.
The End (Flipping the pages of my pamphlet on how to introduce variety . . .)
Here is a brief intro to the cozy mystery series Emma writes as Janis Lane.
MURDER in the JUNKYARD sees the demise of a man no one likes, a romance, and plans for a wedding as Detective Fowler and his friends keep their small-town America free from danger.
Detective Kevin Fowler is furious that low life has targeted his town where people live in blissful safety. Brenda Bryant is out junkn’ for good things when she stumbles over the grotesque body of a man beloved by no one. Suspense heats up when large sums of money are found in two different places. Drug money is suspected and Brenda targeted by someone who wants the money returned. Detective Fowler faces surprise after surprise as he peels back the surface of Hubbard, New York and deals with its shocking underbelly. Meanwhile romance infiltrates the group of friends with a wedding in the making.
AMAZON BUY LINKComing soon in late summer:
Murder at the Lookout
Detective Flower with wife, Beverly, search for a killer when an exquisite blonde with a unique history shows up to cause trouble. Is it true that cats always land on their feet?
Emma Lane is a gifted author who writes cozy mysteries as Janis Lane, Regency as Emma Lane, and spice as Sunny Lane.
She lives in Western New York where winter is snowy, spring arrives with rave reviews, summer days are long and velvet, and fall leaves are riotous in color. At long last she enjoys the perfect bow window for her desk where she is treated to a year-round panoramic view of nature. Her computer opens up a fourth fascinating window to the world. Her patient husband is always available to help with a plot twist and encourage Emma to never quit. Her day job is working with flowers at Herbtique and Plant Nursery, the nursery she and her son own.
Look for information about writing and plants on Emma’s new website. Leave a comment or a gardening question and put a smile on Emma’s face.
Stay connected to Emma on Facebook and Twitter. Be sure to check out the things that make Emma smile on Pinterest.
July 5, 2021
Tell Again Tuesday Painting with words
Verbs paint the essence of your characters–a writing tips post.By Sally Brandle
This page is from the 1906 “Text Book of Art Education.” Paintings evoke emotions, as should your books. How to compose like a painter? After attending an inspiring Master Class by Damon Suede, author of Verbalize: Bring Stories to Life & Life to Stories, I purchased the book and . . .
For the rest of the blog go to:July 1, 2021
Friday Feature Garden I Have Loved Caroline Warfield
If you check out my official biography, you will note I am a lover of gardens—but not necessarily the act of gardening. For that reason, I’m particularly fond of large public gardens, ones that don’t ask me to do anything other than admire and enjoy.
I have had the good fortune to visit many around the world, having wandered through the Tuileries Garden and the gardens at Versailles and Hampton Court. I enjoyed Queen Elizabeth Park in Vancouver, and toured both Auckland’s Hamilton Gardens and the Christchurch Botanical Gardens in New Zealand. I found delightful pocket gardens tucked into walled enclaves in Venice, and was awed on a private tour of the Vatican Gardens with friends. The National Orchid Garden of Singapore is a stunner.
I was reminded lately that we have treasures here in the urban wilds of eastern Pennsylvania as well. The University of Pennsylvania’s Morris Arboretum is a tree lover’s paradise. This week, however, I took a friend to Longwood Gardens, Pierre DuPont’s gem in Kennett Square. DuPont reportedly bought the land to preserve the rare and interesting trees collected by a previous generation in 1906, and immediately began laying out flower walks. Later came the spectacular Conservatory, opened to the public in 1921.
DuPont endowed a foundation to maintain and improve the place in 1937 and for many years it was free to the public. That is, alas, no longer true; it is a pricey ticket. However, once inside, I never doubt it is money well spent. At 1007 acres a visit takes all day and features numerous flower walks and secluded formal gardens, rose arbors and topiary, tree houses (yes, plural), meadow walk and lake, water features of every sort imaginable including the newest—absolutely spectacular—main fountains that draw hundreds to the place. 
The conservatory has been well cared for, and its collections (orchid room, children’s garden, rotating seasonal displays, organ and music room, bonsai, central Mediterranean garden, orangerie, and much more) are worth a visit all by themselves. Its Green Wall, covered with plants, which is the entrance way for a series of bathrooms, was once voted America’s Best Restroom.
My personal favorite? The water lily ponds, with the dozens of varieties including giant lily pads. 
I’ve not included many gardens in my novels, but in The Price of Glory , I needed to. When the heroine arrives in Khartoum, a provincial outpost more military base than city, in 1839, she would have found a newly built governor’s palace which would have assuredly had a garden—wouldn’t it? I had no idea, so I invented one.
To their right the governor’s palace rose along the river, an oasis of green surrounding it. The garden’s size, a pittance compared to the courtyards of the khedive in Cairo, relieved the heavy gloom of the surrounding walls. An artificial stream wound among Nile grass, dracaena and monk orchids, cooling the air.
About the Book: The Price of Glory
Richard Mallet comes to Egypt with dreams of academic glory. He will be the one to unravel the secrets of the ancient Kushite language.
Analiese Cloutier seeks no glory—only the eradication of disease among the Egyptian women and children of Khartoum.
Neither expects to face intrigue, unrest, and insurrection, to be forced to marry to escape death—or to succumb to amorous enchantment under a desert moon.
About the AuthorAward winning author Caroline Warfield has been many things: traveler, librarian, poet, raiser of children, bird watcher, Internet and Web services manager, conference speaker, indexer, tech writer, genealogist—even a nun. She reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows where she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the British Empire. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart.
Find Caroline at:
June 29, 2021
Wednesday Special Spotlight For a Happy Life, Feed Your Man
They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
Image by Michael Sylvester from Pixabay
At age 18, I (Catherine, the C of C.D. Hersh) decided to cook a dinner for my then boyfriend to show off my homemaking abilities. It was something you did way back then. I planned a four-course dinner to cover all the basics of a meal. I served him two sets of appetizers: shrimp cocktail with homemade cocktail sauce and bacon wrapped hot dogs. A big salad, an entrée and two vegetables, and poached pears drizzled with chocolate sauce for dessert rounded out the meal.
I’ve long since forgotten exactly what I served for the middle portions of the meal because the beginning of the dinner was so spectacular that it is burned in both our memories. The shrimp cocktail was a huge success. I lined the pedestaled dessert cup with lettuce leaves, piled a generous amount of the homemade cocktail sauce in the center and carefully laid the curved shrimps around the edge of the dish. The presentation was exquisite. He was all smiles as he ate my offering.
The next appetizer up was the bacon wrapped hot dogs (recipe below). You could use little smokies or sausages, but hot dogs were the choice that day. I carefully wrapped each hot dog in a strip of bacon, cut them into bite-sized pieces (because a savvy hostess would never serve an entire hot dog as an appetizer), and laid them on a baking rack. The bacon kept falling off. So I hunted for something to skewer the strips of meat to the hot dogs. I finally found a box of toothpicks, or rather a few toothpicks, in the pantry. I counted the number of hot dog pieces I had and then how many toothpicks I had. I was woefully short on toothpicks. So, like any frugal cook, I broke the toothpicks into the number of pieces I needed and carefully stuck them into the hot dogs, making a mental note to remove the skewers before serving. I popped the hors d’oeuvres in the oven and went back to work preparing the rest of the meal.
Then the oven timer rang, I removed the appetizer from the oven, put the next course in to finish cooking, checked that none of the pots were boiling over, plated the hot dogs and proudly presented them to my boyfriend who was in the living room watching television.
“Yumm,” he said. “This looks good.”
Pleased that I hadn’t burned them and that they looked appetizing, I picked up the empty shrimp cocktail dish—which look like it had been licked clean—smiled, and returned to the kitchen. A bit later I returned to the living room to retrieve the hotdog platter. My boyfriend had eaten every single hors d’oeuvre.
As I looked down at the platter my stomach dropped to the floor. “Where are the toothpicks?” I asked anxiously.
“Toothpicks?” he said. “You had toothpicks in them?”
“Yes, to hold on the bacon.” By now my heart was racing. “Did you throw them into an ashtray or the waste basket?” I glanced at the ever-present ashtray sitting beside the sofa. It was empty. So was the wastebasket.
He put his hand to his throat and massaged it. “I thought they were a bit crunchy.”
“You ate them?” I asked in terror.
“You didn’t take them out?” he responded. “Why weren’t they sticking out of the hot dogs?”
I looked at him in dismay. “I didn’t have enough to put in all the hors d’oeuvres, so I broke them into smaller pieces. I must have forgotten to remove them. Oh. My. Gosh! I fed you toothpicks! What if they rip up your stomach or intestines? I may have killed you! I’m soooo sorry.”
He took my accidental murder attempt with great aplomb. “Don’t worry,” he assured me. “I chewed them up real good.”
His assurance didn’t make me feel much better. “Do you want the rest of the meal, or should we go to the emergency room?”
“What are you serving me?”
I told him the menu, and then added, “With no toothpicks in sight. I’ve used them all up on the appetizer.”
“I’ll eat,” he replied. Then we both broke out in gales of laughter. But I kept a real close eye on him for a few days just to be sure.
That boyfriend was Donald (the D of C.D. Hersh), the same man I married a few years later. He didn’t die. I wasn’t indicted for murder, and we’ve lived happily-ever-after for half a century. Occasionally, I serve him a burnt offering, which we laugh about, but I never, never, never break a toothpick for use in meal prep. I can’t even pick one up without remembering that first meal I cooked for him.
I learned an important lesson that day—for a happy life, don’t kill your future spouse.
For your eating pleasure here’s a version of the hotdog hors d’oeuvres, using whole toothpicks.
Bacon Wrapped Hotdog Hors d’oeuvres
4 slices lean (center cut) bacon, thin slices
2 slices American cheese (optional)
Toothpicks (WHOLE)
Preheat oven to 400° F.
Cover a rimmed baking sheet with foil and lay a cookie rack over it.
Wrap one slice of bacon around each hotdog. Secure with WHOLE toothpicks at ends and middle. Place hot dogs on cookie rack.
Bake for 10-15 minutes, turn hotdogs. Bake another 10-15 minutes or until bacon has cooked and crisped.
If using cheese, cut each slice in half and lay a half slice over hot dog and leave in oven until cheese begins to melt.
Remove from oven and cut hotdogs into bite-sized pieces.
REMOVE TOOTHPICKS.
Tip: Cooking the hotdog whole means you won’t need as many toothpicks and will help ensure you don’t puncture your beloved’s intestines when he accidently eats them because you forgot to remove the tiny wooden skewers. 
Links for our books are on our book page, under the menu at the top of the page or on our Amazon Author Page
June 28, 2021
Tell Again Tuesday Improve Sales on Amazon
How to Sell Books on Amazon: Promoting Your Summer ReadBy Penny Sansevieri
When it comes to how to sell books on Amazon, authors often forget to include the seasonal pivot in their book marketing plan. But there’s no time like the present to . . .
For the rest of the blog go to:June 24, 2021
Friday Feature #New #Cookbook via @sloanetaylor2
The perfect date night at home—course by course.
From antipasti to dolci, everything you need to create a unique dining experience for an intimate date night in!
All recipes are proportioned for two.No exotic or hard-to-find ingredients.Easy recipes, from prep to presentation.Mix-and-match courses to create a unique dining experience.Wine pairing suggestions to complement each dish.Cooking tips to effortlessly move your date-night agenda from the kitchen to…wherever you’ll most enjoy dessert!Get your copy today on Amazon.Available now on Amazon since June 21, 2021!
Sloane Taylor is an Award-Winning romance author with a passion that consumes her day and night. She is an avid cook and posts new recipes on her blog every Wednesday. The recipes are user friendly, meaning easy.
Learn more about Taylor’s cookbooks, Date Night Dinners, Date Night Dinners Sizzling Summer,Recipes to Create Holidays Extraordinaire, and Date Night Dinners Italian Style on Amazon.
Excerpts from her romance books and free reads can be found on her website, blog, and her Amazon Author Page. Connect with Taylor on Facebook and Twitter.
