Decadent Seconds
This morning I want to welcome W. Lynn Chantale, a lovely author that I met through Still Moments Publishing. She's here to talk about her newly released short, Decadent Seconds. Now, I haven't had the opportunity to read her new piece, but Mistletoe Mamba, her contribution to Christmas Treats: Santa's Naughty List has one of the hottest tango scenes I've ever read. Yum! Lynn has been gracious enough to host me on her blog a couple of times, despite my PG rating, and now I'm thrilled to have her here. Please welcome her and check out her newest work.
Peace,
Liv
PS - Lynn's promised to give away a $15 gift card to one lucky person from the comments. It's a winner's choice card - Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or ARe. So let us know you've been here, okay?
Hi Liv, thanks so much for hosting me today. I can keep thingsPG. :-)
Why I Own a Potato Peeler ... Until last year I never owned apotato/vegetable peeler. I've always used a knife, paring, steak whatever topeel potatoes. Stay with me here, because I've got to explain something. I'malso a sucker for sharp knives, I have a degree in culinary arts and the firstthing I learned was sharp knives require less force to use. So I purchased athree knives ( a paring, a chef's knife and a cleaver) from an extremelyreputable company and eagerly waited for them to arrive in the mail.Knives arrive. I can't wait. Yes, I knowthey're sharp I watched the demo where a penny was cut in half and then a sheetof paper. Oh yeah that sharp. So I peel my first potato cradled in the palm ofmy left hand as I've always done. No problem. Quarter the sucker. No big. Yes,I'm taking my time, my eyes never leave my task. The second potato slips whileI'm quartering, but nothing major.So third potato, yep potato slips whileI'm quartering and I slice a two inch gash in my left index finger. I know someof you already figured out where this was going, but geesh... I've got to tellit. The first words out of my mouth were "I need to go to urgent care."While my sons and husband are panicking.I love them dearly, but I'm the only calm rational one at the moment, despitelaughing my fool head off. My then 16 y/o son whips the car around likes he'sbeen driving everyday for the last 20 years and off we go to the emergencyclinic.So now I have 6 or 7 stitches in my poorfinger, but I can still type. I know I should've been more concerned about thatcut. What can I say, I'm a writer. When I come back for follow up the doctorlearns I have some numbness in my finger. Let's just say when I cut something Ido very well. I severed the tendon and a nerve. Please, no applause. Did youknow the interior of the finger has all the nerves? I do. So outpatientsurgery, 4 weeks in a cast, 4 months of physical therapy and my finger is goodas new. Almost.I know you're dying to know if I stillown that knife. Yes, I do. For a few months my youngest would hide it from me.Do I use it? Of course, but now I slice and quarter potatoes on a cuttingboard.As for the potato peeler, the kids useit.
When I'm not testing the sharpness ofknives, I can be foundWebsite: http://wlynnchantale.comBlog: http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecisions.blogspot.com/Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/wlynnchantaleFacebook: http://www.facebook.com/W.LynnChantaleAuthorUntil next time, Indulge Your InnerRomantic.
Blurb: As a caterer, Darling gets to witness some of life's happiest moments, but yearns for a marriage proposal of her own. After years of waiting on her beloved to pop the question, she gives up on ever having a happy ending of her own and severs the relationship. When she learns she's pregnant, she has no choice but to face her child's father on a daily basis as well as the love and attraction she has for him.Darryl Manning always believed Darling would be his forever. After all he didn't need a piece of paper to show her how much he loved her, but when she leaves him to pursue her dream of owning a catering company and raising his son, he may have to rethink his views on marriage. That is if he wants a second chance at family. Excerpt:Drunken laughter floated just above the thrumming bass lineof Lenny Kravitz's Are You Gonna Go My Way, competing with the steady buzz ofconversation. Soft pastel strobe lights flickered through the mutedillumination. Darlene Williams, or "Darling" as she was known to friends andassociates, surveyed the banquet hall full of guests.She heaved a sigh as she glimpsed a swirl of ivory on thedance floor. For one wistful moment, where fairytales glowed bright and rosy,she imagined her own wedding. Her fairytale didn't have a happy ending. Shesighed again. Or a beginning.A familiar face bobbed in the crowd, and her breath hitched.Twice he tried to take her picture, and she was determined he wouldn't succeed.His gaze found hers, and her heartbeat matched the pounding bass line. Heturned away, and she focused on a set of broad, muscular shoulders. She couldspend hours smoothing her hands over his brawn. When he found her again, thecorners of his mouth creased, and a familiar tingle crackled through her veins.Just once she'd like to not react when she saw him. Despitethe warmth knocking at the wall of her heart, Darling followed his movements toa group of similarly clad women. When they clustered around him, he raised hisNikon to his rugged face.She loved his face, all angles and planes, and all thatsharpness melted away when he smiled. Sadness and longing wiggled through acrack in her wall and squeezed her heart. They weren't meant to be. Still shestared after him, envying the way he leaned close to one woman and lowered hiscamera. He gave a nod before moving away. When he passed beneath a wall sconce,the warm glow gave his smooth brown skin the fine sheen of melted chocolate. Heshould've been out of place in his black polo shirt and khaki slacks as hemoved among the tuxedoes and long dresses, but his sexy smirk and camera madethings easy.The discordant clash of a body colliding with cymbals andsnare drum drew Darling's attention toward the dais next to the dance floor. Aglassy-eyed young man in a tux tried to untangle his limbs from the instrumentwithout spilling his drink. Succeeding, he then lurched onto the crowded dancefloor and crashed into a couple of dancers. She shook her head when he sprawledon the floor, still trying to drink from the glass in his hand.Not her problem. Darling regarded the decimated buffet, thefood reduced to crumbs and half-dried globs of gravy—this was her problem.Swiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, she lifted her gazeagain, this time scanning the room for the tall, sexy photographer. He was nowtaking pictures of the drunk on the floor. Good, she didn't want to run intohim or his camera again. Turning, she hefted the silver chafer by the handlesand placed it on the rolling cart behind her.She reached for the next chafer, moving the serving spoonaside when strong hands seized her shoulders. The spoon slipped from her grasp,splattering white sauce on her black slacks, before settling on the floor. Asensuous chuckle tickled her ear, sending warmth scurrying through her veins,and puckering her nipples. Yanking free, she spun around to glare into darkchocolate eyes. She shoved the owner of those eyes and straightened herclothes. He laughed softly, his gaze drifting leisurely over her white chef's coatand work pants.Darryl Manning, the sexy photographer, grabbed her hand andgently tapped the thick bandage wrapped around her index finger. "What did youdo to your finger?" She tugged her hand from his grasp, wincing when shesmacked the digit on the chafer. "I cut it." She bent to retrieve the spoonfrom the floor, straightened, and placed the utensil in a gray plastic tub.Darling wiped her hands on a towel. Darryl folded well-tonedarms across his broad chest, the black knit shirt he wore strained toaccommodate the expansion of muscle. She stifled a groan and the urge to runher fingers along the bulging biceps and perfect pecs. Why did her body picktoday to rebel? "I don't have time for this now," she snapped, "What do youhave time for?" His rich baritone conjured nights of hot, steamy sex anddecadent morning afters. He lifted his camera, with a sexy smirk. "Maybe aphoto or two?"She resisted the seductive note in his voice and placed herhand on the lens. "I'm working.""And I'm not, just finished." He stepped closer, the heat ofhis body instantly warming hers. Darling tilted her head back to maintain eyecontact.She studied his face, waiting for the familiar ache andlonging to subside. It didn't. Being this close to him, surrounded by his scent,a little soap and a whole lot of male, made her yearn to be in his arms, tofeel his full lips against hers. What was she doing? She couldn't think abouthim, about them. She moved away. Not today.Darling turned as the click-click-click of his camera capturedher. Huffing, she stalked toward the kitchen. She caught the attention of Pete,one of her chefs for the evening. "Could you finish breaking down the buffettable while I take care of this?" She jerked a thumb to the hunk at her heels.Light flashed in her face, momentarily blinding her, and she held a hand to hereyes, blinking to clear her vision. "Don't do that!"Moving through the kitchen to a narrow staircase, she heaveda sigh as the pulsing rock music faded to a dull roar. Darling entered heroffice and smiled at the young man seated in a chair. "Thanks, Denny," shesaid. He was another employee, and she waited until he closed the door.Darling knelt next to a car seat and dropped a kiss on thesleeping infant's cheek. White light zigzagged before her eyes. "Stop it!" shesaid."But you're so beautiful," Darryl said.Her stomach did a slow somersault at the compliment, but hewould need more than pretty words and his handsome face to woo her.Straightening, she shoved a diaper bag in his general direction. "I have twomore weddings, a funeral, and an awards banquet. You trying to flirt is not ontoday's calendar!"Darryl offered her a smile and her knees turned to jelly.The man would be the death of her. The only reason she still spoke to him wasthe sleeping toddler. If not for the baby, she'd have kept walking and neverlooked back.She brushed a stray curl from her face and planted her handon her hip when Darryl didn't move. "I know you may not have anything to do,but I really need to get back downstairs," she reminded him.He stepped closer, reaching a hand to tug on the lock ofhair she had just swept away. She sucked in a breath, his clean masculine scentbeguiling her. Her gaze dropped to the open collar of his shirt. If she pressedher mouth to his warm skin, would he moan? Darling lifted her head, and he mether lips with a kiss. Too stunned to protest, she sank into his kiss, savoringthe spicy taste of him and the firmness of his lips. He skimmed the curve ofher spine with his hands before resting them at her hips. Drawing her closer,he brought her against the hard line of his arousal. Desire exploded, and shewiggled her hips in hopes of easing the sudden tension at the apex of herthighs. As if sensing her need, he cupped her butt, shifting her slightly untilhe was wedged between her legs.Lightning arced through her veins as he settled more firmlyagainst her core. She gasped, and he deepened the kiss, tongues dueling in afevered dance. Tightening her arms around his neck, Darling relished thesensations vibrating through her system, and decided to enjoy them.Lifting his head, Darryl stared into her face. For once shedidn't care if he knew how much she wanted him, her fingers stroked the nape ofhis neck. She regarded him a moment before he brushed his lips across hers onelast time before stepping away."I like flirting with you." He trailed his fingers down herarm.And with those few words he ruined the mood. She drew aragged breath into her lungs and shoved his hand aside. How could one littlekiss leave her so edgy and uncomfortable? She couldn't give in to the demandsof her body. She needed a clear head.Whispers: http://whispershome.com/romance/decadent-seconds/Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Decadent-Seconds-ebook/dp/B007228MRW/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1327677892&sr=8-4Website: http://wlynnchantale.comBlog: http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecisions.blogspot.com/Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/wlynnchantaleFacebook: http://www.facebook.com/W.LynnChantaleAuthor
Peace,
Liv
PS - Lynn's promised to give away a $15 gift card to one lucky person from the comments. It's a winner's choice card - Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or ARe. So let us know you've been here, okay?
Hi Liv, thanks so much for hosting me today. I can keep thingsPG. :-)
Why I Own a Potato Peeler ... Until last year I never owned apotato/vegetable peeler. I've always used a knife, paring, steak whatever topeel potatoes. Stay with me here, because I've got to explain something. I'malso a sucker for sharp knives, I have a degree in culinary arts and the firstthing I learned was sharp knives require less force to use. So I purchased athree knives ( a paring, a chef's knife and a cleaver) from an extremelyreputable company and eagerly waited for them to arrive in the mail.Knives arrive. I can't wait. Yes, I knowthey're sharp I watched the demo where a penny was cut in half and then a sheetof paper. Oh yeah that sharp. So I peel my first potato cradled in the palm ofmy left hand as I've always done. No problem. Quarter the sucker. No big. Yes,I'm taking my time, my eyes never leave my task. The second potato slips whileI'm quartering, but nothing major.So third potato, yep potato slips whileI'm quartering and I slice a two inch gash in my left index finger. I know someof you already figured out where this was going, but geesh... I've got to tellit. The first words out of my mouth were "I need to go to urgent care."While my sons and husband are panicking.I love them dearly, but I'm the only calm rational one at the moment, despitelaughing my fool head off. My then 16 y/o son whips the car around likes he'sbeen driving everyday for the last 20 years and off we go to the emergencyclinic.So now I have 6 or 7 stitches in my poorfinger, but I can still type. I know I should've been more concerned about thatcut. What can I say, I'm a writer. When I come back for follow up the doctorlearns I have some numbness in my finger. Let's just say when I cut something Ido very well. I severed the tendon and a nerve. Please, no applause. Did youknow the interior of the finger has all the nerves? I do. So outpatientsurgery, 4 weeks in a cast, 4 months of physical therapy and my finger is goodas new. Almost.I know you're dying to know if I stillown that knife. Yes, I do. For a few months my youngest would hide it from me.Do I use it? Of course, but now I slice and quarter potatoes on a cuttingboard.As for the potato peeler, the kids useit.
When I'm not testing the sharpness ofknives, I can be foundWebsite: http://wlynnchantale.comBlog: http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecisions.blogspot.com/Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/wlynnchantaleFacebook: http://www.facebook.com/W.LynnChantaleAuthorUntil next time, Indulge Your InnerRomantic.
Blurb: As a caterer, Darling gets to witness some of life's happiest moments, but yearns for a marriage proposal of her own. After years of waiting on her beloved to pop the question, she gives up on ever having a happy ending of her own and severs the relationship. When she learns she's pregnant, she has no choice but to face her child's father on a daily basis as well as the love and attraction she has for him.Darryl Manning always believed Darling would be his forever. After all he didn't need a piece of paper to show her how much he loved her, but when she leaves him to pursue her dream of owning a catering company and raising his son, he may have to rethink his views on marriage. That is if he wants a second chance at family. Excerpt:Drunken laughter floated just above the thrumming bass lineof Lenny Kravitz's Are You Gonna Go My Way, competing with the steady buzz ofconversation. Soft pastel strobe lights flickered through the mutedillumination. Darlene Williams, or "Darling" as she was known to friends andassociates, surveyed the banquet hall full of guests.She heaved a sigh as she glimpsed a swirl of ivory on thedance floor. For one wistful moment, where fairytales glowed bright and rosy,she imagined her own wedding. Her fairytale didn't have a happy ending. Shesighed again. Or a beginning.A familiar face bobbed in the crowd, and her breath hitched.Twice he tried to take her picture, and she was determined he wouldn't succeed.His gaze found hers, and her heartbeat matched the pounding bass line. Heturned away, and she focused on a set of broad, muscular shoulders. She couldspend hours smoothing her hands over his brawn. When he found her again, thecorners of his mouth creased, and a familiar tingle crackled through her veins.Just once she'd like to not react when she saw him. Despitethe warmth knocking at the wall of her heart, Darling followed his movements toa group of similarly clad women. When they clustered around him, he raised hisNikon to his rugged face.She loved his face, all angles and planes, and all thatsharpness melted away when he smiled. Sadness and longing wiggled through acrack in her wall and squeezed her heart. They weren't meant to be. Still shestared after him, envying the way he leaned close to one woman and lowered hiscamera. He gave a nod before moving away. When he passed beneath a wall sconce,the warm glow gave his smooth brown skin the fine sheen of melted chocolate. Heshould've been out of place in his black polo shirt and khaki slacks as hemoved among the tuxedoes and long dresses, but his sexy smirk and camera madethings easy.The discordant clash of a body colliding with cymbals andsnare drum drew Darling's attention toward the dais next to the dance floor. Aglassy-eyed young man in a tux tried to untangle his limbs from the instrumentwithout spilling his drink. Succeeding, he then lurched onto the crowded dancefloor and crashed into a couple of dancers. She shook her head when he sprawledon the floor, still trying to drink from the glass in his hand.Not her problem. Darling regarded the decimated buffet, thefood reduced to crumbs and half-dried globs of gravy—this was her problem.Swiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, she lifted her gazeagain, this time scanning the room for the tall, sexy photographer. He was nowtaking pictures of the drunk on the floor. Good, she didn't want to run intohim or his camera again. Turning, she hefted the silver chafer by the handlesand placed it on the rolling cart behind her.She reached for the next chafer, moving the serving spoonaside when strong hands seized her shoulders. The spoon slipped from her grasp,splattering white sauce on her black slacks, before settling on the floor. Asensuous chuckle tickled her ear, sending warmth scurrying through her veins,and puckering her nipples. Yanking free, she spun around to glare into darkchocolate eyes. She shoved the owner of those eyes and straightened herclothes. He laughed softly, his gaze drifting leisurely over her white chef's coatand work pants.Darryl Manning, the sexy photographer, grabbed her hand andgently tapped the thick bandage wrapped around her index finger. "What did youdo to your finger?" She tugged her hand from his grasp, wincing when shesmacked the digit on the chafer. "I cut it." She bent to retrieve the spoonfrom the floor, straightened, and placed the utensil in a gray plastic tub.Darling wiped her hands on a towel. Darryl folded well-tonedarms across his broad chest, the black knit shirt he wore strained toaccommodate the expansion of muscle. She stifled a groan and the urge to runher fingers along the bulging biceps and perfect pecs. Why did her body picktoday to rebel? "I don't have time for this now," she snapped, "What do youhave time for?" His rich baritone conjured nights of hot, steamy sex anddecadent morning afters. He lifted his camera, with a sexy smirk. "Maybe aphoto or two?"She resisted the seductive note in his voice and placed herhand on the lens. "I'm working.""And I'm not, just finished." He stepped closer, the heat ofhis body instantly warming hers. Darling tilted her head back to maintain eyecontact.She studied his face, waiting for the familiar ache andlonging to subside. It didn't. Being this close to him, surrounded by his scent,a little soap and a whole lot of male, made her yearn to be in his arms, tofeel his full lips against hers. What was she doing? She couldn't think abouthim, about them. She moved away. Not today.Darling turned as the click-click-click of his camera capturedher. Huffing, she stalked toward the kitchen. She caught the attention of Pete,one of her chefs for the evening. "Could you finish breaking down the buffettable while I take care of this?" She jerked a thumb to the hunk at her heels.Light flashed in her face, momentarily blinding her, and she held a hand to hereyes, blinking to clear her vision. "Don't do that!"Moving through the kitchen to a narrow staircase, she heaveda sigh as the pulsing rock music faded to a dull roar. Darling entered heroffice and smiled at the young man seated in a chair. "Thanks, Denny," shesaid. He was another employee, and she waited until he closed the door.Darling knelt next to a car seat and dropped a kiss on thesleeping infant's cheek. White light zigzagged before her eyes. "Stop it!" shesaid."But you're so beautiful," Darryl said.Her stomach did a slow somersault at the compliment, but hewould need more than pretty words and his handsome face to woo her.Straightening, she shoved a diaper bag in his general direction. "I have twomore weddings, a funeral, and an awards banquet. You trying to flirt is not ontoday's calendar!"Darryl offered her a smile and her knees turned to jelly.The man would be the death of her. The only reason she still spoke to him wasthe sleeping toddler. If not for the baby, she'd have kept walking and neverlooked back.She brushed a stray curl from her face and planted her handon her hip when Darryl didn't move. "I know you may not have anything to do,but I really need to get back downstairs," she reminded him.He stepped closer, reaching a hand to tug on the lock ofhair she had just swept away. She sucked in a breath, his clean masculine scentbeguiling her. Her gaze dropped to the open collar of his shirt. If she pressedher mouth to his warm skin, would he moan? Darling lifted her head, and he mether lips with a kiss. Too stunned to protest, she sank into his kiss, savoringthe spicy taste of him and the firmness of his lips. He skimmed the curve ofher spine with his hands before resting them at her hips. Drawing her closer,he brought her against the hard line of his arousal. Desire exploded, and shewiggled her hips in hopes of easing the sudden tension at the apex of herthighs. As if sensing her need, he cupped her butt, shifting her slightly untilhe was wedged between her legs.Lightning arced through her veins as he settled more firmlyagainst her core. She gasped, and he deepened the kiss, tongues dueling in afevered dance. Tightening her arms around his neck, Darling relished thesensations vibrating through her system, and decided to enjoy them.Lifting his head, Darryl stared into her face. For once shedidn't care if he knew how much she wanted him, her fingers stroked the nape ofhis neck. She regarded him a moment before he brushed his lips across hers onelast time before stepping away."I like flirting with you." He trailed his fingers down herarm.And with those few words he ruined the mood. She drew aragged breath into her lungs and shoved his hand aside. How could one littlekiss leave her so edgy and uncomfortable? She couldn't give in to the demandsof her body. She needed a clear head.Whispers: http://whispershome.com/romance/decadent-seconds/Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Decadent-Seconds-ebook/dp/B007228MRW/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1327677892&sr=8-4Website: http://wlynnchantale.comBlog: http://wlynnchantale-decadentdecisions.blogspot.com/Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/wlynnchantaleFacebook: http://www.facebook.com/W.LynnChantaleAuthor
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