Every year I swear I'm not doing a ton of baking next year, and come next year, I eat my words...or in this case, my cookies. This year, however, I'm only baking 3 kinds of cookies - sugar cookies because they're so easy, Linzer tarts because they're delicious and pretty, and almond crescents because my husband begged me for them. (I hate when men beg. They sound so whiney.)

So, here are the recipes:

1. Sugar cookies, I use the refrigerated dough. After the cookies have cooled, I dip one edge of each cookie into melted semi-sweet chocolate. Easy-peasy.

2. Linzer Tarts:
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 egg
1 3/4 cups flour
1/2 cup ground almonds
1 tsp baking powder
Non-stick cooking spray
3/4 cup raspberry jam
Powdered sugar

In a large bowl beat butter & sugar until light & fluffy. Beat in vanilla & egg. Combine flour, almonds & baking powder & add to creamed mixture. Divide into 2 portions, cover with plastic wrap & refrigerate 1 hour or overnight.

Preheat oven to 350. Spray cookie sheet. Using 1 portion of dough at a time, place it between 2 sheets of waxed paper and roll into a 1/8 inch thickness. Cut into desired shapes with cookie cutter. Place on cookie sheet. These are your bottoms.
Do the same with remaining dough, but cut a 1/4 inch circle in each piece of dough,place on cookie sheet. These are your tops. Bake 8-10 minutes. Do not brown.

To assemble, spread some jam onto each bottom, top with cutout cookie. Sift powdered sugar over them. This recipe makes about 14-16 cookies.

 
Aren't we lucky to have my fellow Love Historicals author, Gina Danna, back this month with her gladiator story?

Gladiators always made me think of Russell Crowe. Until now.



​Tell us about your book, Gina
 
This is a book set in Ancient Rome, during the 2nd century AD, under the reign of Emperor Trajan. It is about a gladiator and the slave he falls in love with – a precarious situation as neither are free. And servitude under the Romans was harsh and cruel. But gladiators were the rock stars, even though they were slaves.
 
What inspired you to write this book?
 
I’ve loved the history of Ancient Rome. Probably what pushed me was the series on Starz – Spartacus Blood & Sand. It brought Rome to light and just inspired me to delve into researching the period. My muse was very excited!
 
 
What kind of research was involved?
 
There was a lot of research. I’m a historian by degrees and have a demand to portray the past correctly so I researched gladiators, how they were trained, what they wore, ate and how they fought; how Romans themselves lived; how they worshiped; how they traveled, what their houses were like, what they ate and drank and so much more. Their names – I wanted my characters to have names that fit the period and that in itself was mindboggling – true Romans had 3 names and slaves were often given Greek names over their native names, just to mention a few oddities. Just cool stuff and now my library has its own Ancient Rome section. J
 
 
Author Bio:
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Gina Danna has spent the better part of her life reading. History has been her love and she spent numerous hours devouring historical romance stories, dreaming of writing one of her own. Years later, after receiving undergraduate and graduate degrees in History, writing academic research papers and writing for museum programs and events, she finally found the time to write her own stories of historical romantic fiction.
Now, living in Texas, she is under the supervision of her three dogs as she writes amid a library of research books, with her only true break away is to spend time with her other life-long dream – her Arabian horse – with him, her muse can play.
Buy links:
 
Amazon:  http://amzn.to/1Y4BzhU (paperback)
                 http://amzn.to/1PCtGgP (Kindle)
iBooks:    http://apple.co/1SKrVhA
Kobo:      http://bit.ly/20NEm1f
 
 
Excerpt:
 
Rome 108 CE
 
A menacing growl followed by an earth-shattering scream bellowed above the rafters. The roar of the crowd snapped her back out of the numbness. The applause echoed through the chambers as particles of sand rained through the wood slats in the ceiling.
            She was filthy, covered in sweat, blood and grime. What damage could more dirt do? Toes on the dirt floor wiggled as she stared at them. Her hair hung around her face like a curtain, matted with dried blood. Inadvertently, she lifted her hand to tuck one side behind her ear but jerked to a halt, restrained by the iron cuffs around her wrists, bound together with a chain. The same chain connected to the metal collar around her neck. How had she forgotten its weight resting so heavy on her shoulders?
 
            Another scream and the sound of flesh ripping, laughter and clapping became louder above. Fear snaked down her spine and she shuddered.
 
            Gustina sat on the stone ledge, chained with the other miscreants, waiting to be forced up the ramp to the carnage above. If she could just return to the numbness again, where nothing mattered any more. The place she’d escaped to before she’d heard the animals attacking the condemned out there. But she couldn't silence the roar of the crowds, enjoying the executions as their noontime entertainment. Trembling, she pulled her sluggish legs up, wrapping her joined hands over them, to hold herself as she buried her face in her knees.
 
                                  ****
           
In the hallway outside the chamber, Marcus stood, flexing his muscles, his arm extended with the metal disk in his hand. It equaled the weight of his sword - a weapon he would not have until it was his turn in the arena. Besides, there was no room in the corridor to swing it, to loosen his arms in preparations for the next fight.
 
            Christians and convicts. What a surly lot. But it was an easy way to feed the vast array of beasts the Empire kept to compete in the games. Did he ever feel sad for the poor souls about to perish by their claws? No. Nor did he mourn the loss of life at the end of his sword.
 
            He was one of the rare attractions people paid to see. He was gladiator. And he soon would be victor of all he opposed on the sands. Marcus' victories gave him the privileges and money he wanted - as long as it remained wine and women. But not his freedom. Not what he had lost to the Romans. No, the only way to gain that came by victory in the arena and in front of the Emperor. And to earn that opportunity, he’d kill whomever they placed before him.
 
            He closed his eyes as the screams filtered downward. His soul heard them and his body tingled with the smell of blood and dirt. Breathing in the welcoming atmosphere, he exhaled and opened his lids to look straight into the captives’ chamber.
 
            He found her. Sitting, hunched on the small ledge, draped in chain and metal bands, her head down. But when she looked up, through all the muck and grime, her pale blue eyes shined, sparkling and bright. Her unmarred face was a rarity amongst captives dragged to this place, usually after rough treatment prior. He noticed her high cheekbones, a small nose, narrow chin but ripe mouth. Her eyes locked on him and his mouth went dry. When her tongue licked her lips, his body tightened.
 
            He had to have her. Period. Regardless if she was a convict, runaway or Christian, he wanted her.
  
            A guard butted past him, into the room and yanked the chain, pulling all the captives up. Many moaned, some pleaded. She didn't. She stood straight, pushing her shoulders back, waiting at the end of the line. Her eyes locked on his until the guard turned chain in hand to lead them out.
 
            Marcus stepped back. Instantly, his hand went to his stomach guard and pulled the narrowed pick-knife out of its hidden sheath. As the captives stumbled past him, he extended his foot, causing her to trip. She fell into his grasp. His free hand placed the knife into the lock and with a twist, it opened. His hand covered it to deaden the noise as his other arm encircled her tiny waist and pulled her against him.
 
            "Not a sound," he whispered. He shoved her to the wall, his massive body hiding hers as he flexed his limbs. The guard stopped at the sound of the loose chain but didn't look far when he saw the gladiator's well-muscled body. Marcus glanced at him over his shoulder and gave the man a nod. His status as a victorious gladiator allowed some privilege. The guard shrugged and moved on. The frightened woman gasped for air and shook with fear.
 
            Quickly he lifted her. She was light, lighter than his sword but he knew that couldn’t be. In a swift move, he turned. Next to the doorway sat a covered alcove. He dropped her in it.
 
            "You'll be safe here." He looked her over. Her wide eyes, full of fear and mistrust, returned his gaze but she said nothing. He heard the gong of his master calling him - he fought next, after the final execution. "Remain here. I will be back for you." He touched her cheek, his bulky hand swallowed half her face. Her skin was soft, like silk. Back in the days when he wore silk... He banked the anger. With a final nod to her, he left. He knew she'd be there when he returned.
 
To leave meant death.
 
 

For all you Regency lovers out there, today, I welcome one of my fellow Love Historicals authors, Gina Danna, who's going to tell us about her latest Regency romance. Love this cover.

Tell us about your book, Gina

This book is about a male courtesan during the Regency period who finally finds true love.
 
 
What inspired you to write this book?

I’d been reading several novels about courtesans – ladies who fell on hard times & turned to being a courtesan or were mistaken for one. Any case, these women always met the man of their dreams who saved them from this wicked life. It made me wonder what if it was a man instead of a woman as courtesan – a gigolo though that word wasn’t used then – and she saved him? My muse took off telling me the tale of Ethan and Arabella.
 
 
What kind of research was involved?

First in research was were there male courtesans, men who were paid by proper ladies for bedplay? I mean, we always hear how many lords, etc had mistresses, what of their wives? There are hints, some stories actually true, of this happening.
 
Next was my hero’s story – how he turned to selling himself. He’d been taken by the Barbary pirates and sold into slavery in the middle East – an area not many have delved into. So I did extensive research there and found gobs of information. Many ‘pretty boys’ were taken as sex slaves by the men but what of a woman of that area taking a one? Caught, they’d both be killed but there are reports of such things happening – few, very few, but enough to work for my story.
 
As to Arabella’s medical training – it was very true. The best a woman could do in medicine was be a midwife, despite training, experience, etc. It would take over 50 years before women could be physicians and only then to women and children. 1816 – no.
 
 
Author Bio

Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Gina Danna has spent the better part of her life reading. History has been her love and she spent numerous hours devouring historical romance stories, dreaming of writing one of her own. Years later, after receiving undergraduate and graduate degrees in History, writing academic research papers and writing for museum programs and events, she finally found the time to write her own stories of historical romantic fiction.
Now, under the supervision of her three dogs and two cats, she writes amid a library of research books, with her only true break away is to spend time with her other life long dream – her Arabian horse – with him, her muse can play.
​
Buy links:
 
Amazon:  http://amzn.to/1j6eAn3
Nook:      http://bit.ly/1L1O4CW
iBook:     http://apple.co/1KVgaBU
Kobo:      http://bit.ly/1Q0XDFt 
 
Excerpt:
 
The Wicked Bargain
 
 
Ethan pulled the emerald out of his top dresser drawer and held it carefully. The tear-drop stone glittered in the firelight but it was cold to touch. His other hand grabbed the metal cuff it had been attached to those years ago. The dark heavy ankle band weighed slightly above one pound, a lighter version of the one that he wore initially, weighing over twice the poundage.  Strange to recall the exact weights at this point but it’d meant a great deal at the time. He stared at the casing. The dark metal was smooth, its edges rounded to cause no marring with a loop at one end, where the emerald stone hung.
 
When troubled thoughts plagued him, he often found himself here, holding the very objects that had marked his soul deeply. There was an odd feeling of comfort doing this, one he couldn’t explain. The day had started so easy but rapidly changed.
 
Staring at the objects, his mind tumbled over the turn of events. He should have followed through and made the girl leave. This place was not for the good and pure. Sin poured out of the woodwork and corrupted the soul. Whatever persuaded him to relent? The answer angered him. She did. Those tears and her obvious terror tugged at some hidden part of him, compassion maybe? He’d laugh if that wasn’t so ironic. His compassion died tragically years ago in the sands. No, she ran from something. Or someone. He saw the fear in her eyes. But for her to remain was wrong.
 
Toying with the emerald, his thoughts of her turned to business at a more base level. What possible income could she add to his? She was rather plain looking. Oh, her blond hair was attractive, her sapphire blue eyes vivid. But she was too thin, her face angular and gaunt, sickly pale and, well, common. Her legs, hidden underneath the gown, must be long, he gathered, from her height, hopefully long enough to wrap around a man’s waist. No doubt her body lacked the padded curves to entice a man. Her breasts, if there were any hidden behind the bodice, probably absent any flesh to really hold. He grunted in disgust. It would take a lot of work to make her fit the style of one of his ladies.
 
What was he thinking? She was way too innocent and terrified in demeanor—obviously a sign she was not meant to fill the vacancies in his income. Besides, Edith sent her to him for her protection. He scoffed. As if that wasn’t a jest….Why did Edith send her to a male courtesan with the idea that he could present her to Society? And with no dowry to support her on the marriage mart, exactly what was he to do? Make her one of them and find her a wealthy protector?
That last thought, of a protector, brought his attention back to the anklet and jewel in his hands. His mind wandered beyond the problem of Arabella. Back to a time and place that was hard and demanding, a time of survival at all costs, even at the condemnation of one’s soul. Of a beautiful woman who owned his existence at the flip of her hand and of a life he destroyed. Oh, Zahrah….
 
“What are you doing?” Elizabeth stood in the doorway, watching him.
 
Her tone instantly snapped him back to today. He rolled his eyes. How did she always seem to know when melancholy of days past arrived? “Yes, Elizabeth, how may I help you?”
 
“You met her?”
 
He dropped the anklet and emerald back into the drawer and closed it.
 
“Yes.” He walked to his washstand and pulled his cravat off the towel rack. Looking into the mirror to tie it, his hands fumbled. He so hated the damn thing.
 
With a frustrated groan, she walked to him, turned him to face her and snatched the tie’s ends. “And what do you think, sweeting?” she asked, quickly manipulating the fabric into a knot and fluffing the ends appropriately.
 
“She has potential,” he commented drily. “If she were amenable, she could maybe earn a nice sum.”
 
“Yes, probably enough to finish your debts and rebuild your estate,” she concluded with a smile.
He stepped away from her, anger building within him. Gazing out his window at the mews behind the house, he saw his horse waiting for him. He so wanted to jump on his back and escape everything. He refocused. “You put her in that room last night.”
 
“Yes.”
 
“Why?”
 
“She needed a place to sleep, Ethan.” She came up behind him. “I couldn’t turn her out.”
 
“But you didn’t tell her what type of house this is, did you?” The question was cold, flat and blatant. He knew what her answer would be and it only made the girl more damaged.
 
“No.”
 
 He shut his eyes. It was as if the walls closed in on him. “I followed your advice. I went out, arranged new interest for the girls, even a new contract for myself.”
 
“Fabulous!”
 
“So I had thought,” he turned to her, his voice tense. “I had company, Elizabeth. I didn’t know I had to worry about the next room.”
 
“Ah, so she came to see,” she surmised, but the grin on her face showed she wasn’t the least bit perturbed at his anger. She laughed. “I fail to see why you are so upset. Being watched isn’t new to you.”
 
“That’s not the point,” he argued. She never saw this from the perspective of a female client. Jane might have turned furious and demanded a refund. He could not afford that. “It might have caused problems with the lady I was with, who thankfully didn’t appear to notice.”
 
“See, you haven’t lost your touch.” She smiled.
 
He threw his head back. “Elizabeth, ladies do not come here looking for ordinary work and find I only employ high priced courtesans. But you let her stay and if she stays much longer, she may have no choice in the matter but to become one herself. Her reputation may already be beyond any repair.”
 
“I’m sure you can help her,” she said soothingly, her hands back on his shoulders as she reached up behind him and kissed the side of his neck, her hands stroking down his back and over his hips. She tried to deflect his anger. “Come, sweeting, let us have one last time before I am committed to Clemson.”
 
He turned towards her and took her hands off him.
 
“I think not,” he said quietly, kissing her hands lightly.
 
She sighed. “You never seem to desire me any longer, sweeting.”
 
He looked into her eyes. “It is not that, my dear,” he commented quietly. “I just won’t because you’ve already signed the papers.”
 
“It has been years and I can’t help but worry.”
 
“Do not be upset,” he said. “I can’t.”
 
“You know, Zahrah’s no longer around. You won’t be caught. You’ve been freed now for two years.”
 
His smile disappeared, his past lashed out, memories back in full force he smothered as quickly as he could. “I know. Come. We have dinner with our new doctor.”

Okay, you asked for it, so here it is. My recipe for apple pie.

For the crust I use 2 frozen ready-made crusts which I let thaw while I prepare the pie.

Combine and blend well:
1 egg
2 Tlbs flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup melted butter

This mixture is poured over the apples that have been cut into bite-size pieces and put into the bottom crust. I use MacIntosh apples, but you can use whatever kind you like.

I sprinkle ground cinnamon over the apples & mixture, lay the top crust over it, crimp the edges of both crusts together and make some slits in the top crust with a knife. Then I brush a milk and egg mixture over the top crust so that it browns nicely and wrap a strip of foil around the crimped edge of the pie so that it doesn't burn. A final sprinkle of cinnamon over the top and it's ready to bake.

You might want to place the pie on a baking sheet, otherwise, your oven will bear the brunt of the spill-over.

Bake at 400 for about 15 min., then reduce to 300 for about 30-40 min. or until the top is golden and a knife inserted into the pie slides easily through the apples.

While it's tempting to eat the pie while it's warm from the oven, I let it cool and then put the slices in the microwave to heat them up. Cutting into this pie while it's still hot/warm results in messy slices that taste just as delicious but won't look that good. Letting it cool gives it a chance to firm up.

I have also made pear pies using this recipe, just substituting pears for apples.

Last year I did so much baking over the holidays that I swore I'd never bake another pie or batch of cookies ever again. Well, the holidays are approaching and I'm about to eat my words.

Every Thanksgiving I bake 2 pies, one apple and one key lime. Here's my recipe for a quick and delicious key lime pie.

For the shell, mix 1 and 1/4 cups crushed graham crackers with 5 tbls melted butter and 3 tbls sugar. Press along the bottom & sides of a 9" pie plate and bake at 325 until crisp and fragrant. About 15 minutes. But since I go the easy-peasy route, I use a pre-made pie crust.

For the filling,whisk together:
4 egg yolks
1 and 1/4 cups condensed evaporated milk (one 14-oz can)
2 tsp finely grated lime zest
1/2 cup lime juice squeezed from about 5-6 standard (Persian) limes.Or about 25 key limes, but who has time for all that squeezing?

Pour filling into shell and bake at 325 until set,about 15 min. Cool on a rack. Cover & chill about 3 hours.

For the topping:
1 cup heavy whipping cream
3 tbls sugar
1 tsp vanilla

I find that adding the sugar & vanilla after I've been whipping the cream for a bit eliminates it from getting curdy and chunky. Spread over the chilled pie.

This pie has the tartness of true key lime. Eat and enjoy!

The Alaskan Malamute evolved from the ancient dogs that migrated with prehistoric man from Asia, across the Arctic to Greenland, and back. Early Russian and English explorers reported a type of dog kept by the Mahlemut tribes in Alaska. These were work animals used to hunt seals and polar bears and to haul heavy loads across the cruel ice packs and tundra.

During the Gold Rush that began in 1896 prospectors knew the value of a good dog team, and Malamutes were particularly prized for their handsome markings and incredible strength.

1909 brought about the Commander Robert Peary -Dr. Frederick Cook controversy on who reached the North Pole first, but no one disputes the point that whoever got there first couldn’t have done it without the sled dogs.

In 1925 a group of drivers and their stalwart Malamutes fought their way through an 80 mile an hour blizzard and temperatures that plunged to fifty below zero to deliver the diphtheria serum to the inhabitants of Nome.

It is believed that the Alaskan Malamute breed is 2,000 to 3,000 years old. Archaeological evidence indicates that they may have first been used 300 to 500 years ago, although they were probably used for dog-drawn sleds or as pack dogs before that time.

Malamute Eskimos developed their dogs to a high level of strength, intelligence and reliability. They treated their dogs humanely which has resulted in the Malamute having a better temperament than other Arctic sled breeds. Today they are known as gentle giants.

I fell in love with this breed about 25 years ago when we got Max, our first Malamute pup. Knowing nothing about the breed, only that he was one helluva cute pup, we quickly learned that Malamutes are stubborn critters. They know exactly what you’re asking them to do. They just won’t do it until they’re ready. And I also had no idea how freakishly strong they are. I tried at first to break Max from the habit of pulling, but after many wrenched shoulders I came to the realization that he was simply doing what he was born to do, and as long as he was a sweet, loving boy otherwise, I let him pull to his heart’s content.

This brings me to Indio. The first time we saw him he was three weeks old. His ears were little buttons sticking out the sides of his head, and he had an expression on his face that spelled trouble—a sign of things to come. Sure enough, four weeks later when we picked him up from the breeder, we placed him in the car, drove not twenty yards, and he pooped all over the place. We cleaned it up as best we could and drove for the next 3 hours with the SUV smelling of puppy poo. But he was ours, and we could not have been happier.

For generations, whenever puppies were born among the Malamute tribes, they were given to the children to raise until the pups were old enough to begin working, which led to the Malamute’s love of children. And Indio is no exception. He’ll make a downright fool of himself over a kid.

Indio has the typical Malamute repertoire of sounds. There’s the Chihuahua yip, the poodle yap, the talking bark that sounds like the monster from The Young Frankenstein singing Putting On The Ritz, the loud, protracted Malamute howl that startles you awake at 3AM, and what we call his big-boy bark, the sound you don’t want to hear if you’re breaking into the house.

As a puppy Indio was afraid of everything. One time I did what mama dogs do when their pups misbehave and growled at him. He ran away and hid. Whenever the garbage truck came by, he ran away and hid.  When we switched him to a raw diet, I bought him a delicious-looking lamb shank. He sniffed it and ran away and hid. Thankfully, he got over his childhood fear of everything, and has grown into a formidable dog that would not hesitate to defend me to his last breath.

And woe be the poor unfortunate fool who messes with him. Once, when my husband was out of town on business, my neighbor came knocking with his six-year old son to ask if they could take Indio for a walk. I was hesitant, but the kid was so cute I said okay. Being a natural-born puller, you can imagine that their walk was a bit of a rodeo. A few days later, they came knocking again. As I was putting Indio into his harness, the neighbor reached down to assist. Whereupon, Indio stood on his hind legs, put his two front paws on the guy’s chest, looked him in the eyes, and gave a deep, rumbling growl which translated to, “Keep your dirty mitts off me”.  I called the walk off, and neighbor-guy never came knocking again.

Indio likes to sleep under my desk and lay his big furry head on my feet when I’m writing. He has all the qualities of a true romance hero—intelligence, dependability, strength, loyalty, courage, humor, and he’s one good-looking guy. He’s my own personal hero. That's my handsome boy on the cover of my contemporary romance THE LOVE THAT BINDS. And no, I'm not talking about the bare-chested hunk. I'm talking about the furry one.

My big ole bear is almost 12 now and showing his age. These days it’s me who’s afraid – of losing him, the delight of my life. I can't imagine what my life will be like without him, without the feel of his fur beneath my lips when I get down on the floor to give him a smooch, without holding his warm back paw in my hand as we both fall asleep on the bed at night.


I’m reminded of this anonymous quote: “He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.”

I owe Indio a heck of a lot more than that.

Interview with Summer Fire Authors

By Joan Reeves

I thought it would be fun to ask some of the authors of the Summer Fire Contemporary Romance Collection the same question because I knew the responses from these New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors would all be entertaining to readers and informative to writers.

Question: Have you done box sets before? If yes, what appealed to you about this collection? If no, why did you choose to jump into this one?

Gennita Low, author of Sizzle. “Sizzling passion and flying bullets.”

Yes, I've been in several. I'm looking for new readers who want to try something different. Many readers are hesitant about romantic suspense because they think the word suspense means all about guns and story, with none of the heat. My goal is to show that this isn't true. Many of my SEAL stories combine action with lots of sexy banter and relationship growth between my protagonists. Also, I get to make new friends in a box set!

Kym Grosso, author of Solstice Burn. “Love and erotic temptation in the tropics.”

I have done box sets before, and what appealed to me about this anthology was the varied collection of all new romance novellas. I'm honored to be included with such a talented group of authors. It's a wonderful opportunity, and I love the idea of helping to create a set of summer reads.

Victoria Danann, author of A Season in Gemini. “A breath of fresh romance--normal and paranormal.”

I have done two other Paranormal Romance sets and enjoyed working with the other authors. Of course it's always wonderful to get a shot with new readers.

L. Wilder, author of Summer Storm. “Can their love survive the storm?”

This is my first anthology.

 Cat Miller, author of Sun Burnt. “Sophisticated city girl’s wild ride with a cowboy.”

This is my first box set. With my focus shifting to contemporary romance I was pleased to have a chance to stretch my writing muscles. This project was a challenge to keep it short and to the point. I tend to be long winded. I also was honored to be included on a project with so many incredible writers.

Mimi Barbour, author of Big Girls Don't Cry. “Why cry when no one is listening?”

Yes, I'm very fortunate to be able to say that I'm one of the ten brides for the Brides collections. (Ten Brides for Ten Heroes, Ten Christmas Brides and our soon to be released, Ten Brides for Ten Hot Guys).We've been very fortunate in our following, Our readers treat us wonderfully and we so appreciate them all. I guess because of my positive experience with those sets, when I was invited by Victoria Danann to join this bundle, I couldn't say yes fast enough. Also, I was told that all the books in this set were to be novellas. And… they were to be new, never before released. I liked that idea very much.

Helen Scott Taylor, author of Irish Kisses. “Second chance at love in an enchanting Irish castle.”

I have been in a number of successful contemporary romance boxed sets--the most successful being the Ten Brides boxes and Sweet Christmas Kisses. The recent boxes have all been USA Today Bestselling collections. Summer Fire attracted me as I haven't worked with many of the other authors before, and it is fun to try something new.

Clarissa Wild, author of Killer. “Bitterness turns into an obsession; a stalker is born.”

Yes, I wanted to be part of this boxed set because the authors involved are really motivated to make this the biggest boxed set we've seen in a while.

Mona Risk, author of Husband for a Week. “Never fall in love with a fake husband.”

I have created or contributed to box sets since December 2013. I started by boxing three of my medical romances under the title Doctors' Orders, and a month later I bundled my Holiday Babies series. They were both successful. Around Christmas of the same year, the Authors of Main Street, decided to create an anthology, Christmas on Main Street, which became an instant bestseller on Amazon. Since then, I participated in seven boxes, and will still be part of three more to be released in May and June 2015.

I love the group effort and enormous enthusiasm generated when a group of authors coordinate their effort to publish and promote a box. Three of our boxes became USA Today bestsellers and remained for five weeks on these lists.

Lorhainne Eckhart, author of His Promise. “A love they thought would last forever.”

I have been in a few other collections. Honestly, this is the best collection I have been part of. I was quite excited to be invited to join this group because of the caliber of authors that are also participating. It has been the most organized set, and I've truly enjoyed working with all the authors in this collection.

Joan Reeves, author of Heat Lightning. “Secrets, lies, passion. Secrets can kill.”

Life has thrown a lot of curve balls at me in the last five years so I wasn’t able to accept previous invitations to participate in the box sets that turned out to be hugely successful. I did manage to publish in three of the Authors of Main Street Collections, including the recently released Love Blooms on Main Street.

This year I really wanted to accept if invited again by my friend Mona Risk. She invited; I accepted. Hopefully, we 21 authors will now live happily ever after! All kidding aside, this has been an amazing experience. The Summer Fire authors are talented writers and astute businesswomen. It’s been an honor to be a part of this.

Brandy L Rivers, author of Summer Rhythm. “Doug never could resist Chloe. Is she back for good?”

 Yes. I think it's fun to read other stories from other authors. This is a good way to try out authors you haven't read.

 Add Summer Fire to Your Library

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Dv2jy3

Apple: http://bit.ly/1CVOgih

B&N: http://bit.ly/18d9QY0

Kobo: http://bit.ly/19QsJAD

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1wsmBsL

Giveaway

Leave a comment with your email address and be entered in a random drawing for a free copy of Summer Fire: Love When It's Hot Contemporary Romance Collection. Giveaway is open until May 25 midnight. Winner will be chosen the next day by Random Name Picker and notified by email as well as in the Comments section of this post on Word Wranglers.

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Bio Note:

Joan Reeves, whose book in Summer Fire is Heat Lightning, is a bestselling author of Contemporary Romance. Available as ebooks and audiobooks, her romance novels all have the same underlying theme: “It’s never too late to live happily ever after.” Joan lives her happily ever after with her husband in the Lone Star State. Sign up for WordPlay, Joan's free email list for readers: http://eepurl.com/Yk61n.

Over the years I've come across some wonderful and outrageous quotes. Here are a few of my favorites:

Lady Astor: "If you were my husband, I'd poison your tea."
Winston Churchill: "If you were my wife, I'd drink it."

"Until one has loved an animal a part of one's soul remains unawakened."  Anatole France

"You must do the thing you think you cannot do."
Eleanor Roosevelt

"Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is  full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent."  Calvin Coolidge

"Life isn't always fair. There are times when confrontation seems to be the only way to clear the air. At times like that, how you feel about yourself can make  all the difference in the world." (I don't know who said  this, but I love it.)

"I write for the same reason is breathe - because if I didn't, I would die."  Isaac Asimov

"We do not write because we want to; we write because we have to."  Somerset Maugham

And my absolute favorite, reserved for  "special" people...drum roll please...
"Yes, I wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes. You'd know what a drag it is to see you."  Bob Dylan

Have you come across any quotes that make you think or laugh or 

At long last! The book I and my co-writer have been working on for the last 7 years is finally nearing completion.

Wesley Morse was my father-in-law. He glorified the American Girl for the Ziegfeld Follies and drew some of the most infamous Tijuana Bibles. His Copacabana art is an icon of the golden age of 1940s nightclubs, and his pin-up art is equal to that of Alberto Vargas and George Petty. Yet until now, little has been known about Wesley Morse, the man. Such mystery surrounds him that he has often been called the J.D. Salinger of the art world. But he was very much a man of the time—the golden age of nightclubs and speakeasies—and more importantly, the place—New York City.


The book follows his life and artwork from the colorful world of the Ziegfeld Follies, to the decadent world of New York City during Prohibition and the stylish nightclub scene of the 1940s and 50s,  and features rare and unseen artwork from the creator of the world famous Bazooka Joe comics and 80 exclusive, previously unpublished, full-color illustrations from the Taylor-Morse Collection. It reveals how a tragedy led to the creation of Bazooka Joe and gives a glimpse into the life of a private man whose art became his voice.