Friday, December 19, 2014

First Fight Friday: A Furious Muse by AJ Nuest


Goats solve their differences head-on. They don’t give the silent treatment or yell, they butt heads, and then it’s over.

Cowboy Marvin has learned humans resolve issues differently especially those romantically involved. His curiosity sparked, he has invited authors to stop by on Fridays and share the first fight out of their latest book.





fellow Harper Impulse author


AJ Nuest 

           is here for ...


First Fight Friday 

with a scene from 

A Furious Muse
The Golden Key Legacy Book 1


Princess Faedrah Austiere stole the golden key, 
leaping through time to confront the dark lord haunting her dreams.

One woman’s image haunted Rhys McEleod since he was old enough paint her. When she walks in, sexier than hell and itching for a fight,
he’s not convinced she’s the same women until he spots the key 
around her neck.

Now if he could just persuade his lovely muse he’s not the enemy. 

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He gripped her wrist, forcing her knuckles deeper into thick muscle as he strode forward. She retreated the same distance to reclaim some space. Matching her pace for pace, he held firm, the tempo of their steps a dangerous dance relaying a fierce contest of wills.

Her back slammed the wall and he closed in, smacking his palms to the wooden planks on either side of her head. “Where did you learn to move like that?” She lowered her lashes to avoid his inspection, but he dodged low, keeping their gazes locked. “And spare me the half-truths, Faedrah. You and I both know lying to me is a waste of time.”

Dipping her knees, she tried to escape the prison of his arms yet he moved with her, trapping her in place with the rigid tension in his thighs. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me in. Dammit, I can’t protect you unless you tell me what you’re hiding.”

Frustration tightened her jaw, and she fisted the fabric of his shirt. If she confessed, if she allowed the slightest indication of her leap through the veil, he would undoubtedly think her deranged.

Her uncles had warned her. Magic did not exist in this place. To risk that Rhys’ admiration for her would disintegrate to disgust, to exchange the lust in his gaze for pity… Goddesses wept, she would rather disengage from her quest altogether than to have him peer upon her as if her wits had fled.

“Why won’t you trust me?” His hands left the wall for her cheeks. The calloused tips of his thumbs swept the thin skin beneath her lashes. “I swear to God, whoever put that fear in your eyes is a dead man.” She could not reason with him so close. All thought except banishing the sharp fury from his gaze was lost beneath the heady musk of his skin, the invitation of his lips hovering a breath from hers.

A whimper scuffed her throat as she ran her palm up his biceps, along his shoulder to scrape her nails through the short hair at his nape. His brow twitched. Arousal darkened his jade irises to the mystery of a shadowed forest, and he squinted.

“Do not be angry with me.” Rising on the tips of her toes, she urged him near. She needed him to believe in her. Despite the secrets she guarded. Regardless of the uncertainties between them. His faith she could truly embody the woman in his paintings was the one thing to hold her steady and sure amid the unforeseeable tempest she faced. “For all my duplicity, I do not think I could bear it.”

“Oh, baby.” He sighed, shook his head, and dropped his lips to hers. 

Copyright © AJ Nuest

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A Furious Muse: The Golden Key Legacy Book 1 


Since the day of her birth, Princess Faedrah Austiere has been defined by her place within the kingdom. As the single heir to the half-blood gypsy king and his prophesied white queen, she is fiercely protected, shuttered inside an ivory castle and well-trained in the art of war. Yet neither her obligations as future queen nor the black infestation threatening her kingdom fail to hinder the mysterious pull of the antique armoire hidden in her parents’ bedchamber. And stealing the golden key for a leap through time is the only way to confront the dark lord haunting her dreams.

One face. The image of one defiant, relentless woman has been stuck in Rhys McEleod’s head ever since he was old enough paint her luscious curves on the canvas. But the day she walks into his life off the street—sexier than hell and itching for a fight—he’s not convinced she’s the same women he’s envisioned since childhood. That is, not until he spots the golden key around her neck—an object he’s never fully shown in any of his paintings.

Now if he could just persuade his lovely muse he’s not the enemy. Unless the elusive Faedrah Austiere learns to trust him, he’ll never have her in his bed—the one place he’s convinced she belongs.


AJ is the author of 

The Golden Key Legacy
A Furious Muse Book 1 
The Sacrifice Book 2
The Wizard Rises Book 3 - releases Jan. 29
A Time of Reckoning Book 4 - releases Feb. 26

AND

The Golden Key Chronicles

The key would unlock his future, and the safety of his kingdom, but he never imagined the sorceress would unlock his heart...




If you are still in love with the Disney princes of your youth, and wish one would show up in your bedroom late at night, then you will love this breathtaking fantasy romance series!






AJ's bio: 
I am a multi-published, award-winning author who lives in the middle of a cornfield in NW Indiana. My loving husband, two beautiful children and a bevy of spoiled pets have agreed to stay and, in exchange for three rations per day and laundry service, tolerate my lunacy. While I spend most days happily ensconced in crafting romance across a multitude of genres, an underground coup has been percolating. The dogs just informed me the cat is secretly vying for dictatorship.



Follow AJ Nuest online


Thanks for sharing AJ!

Friday, December 12, 2014

First Fight Friday: Double Duplicity; A Shandra Higheagle Mystery by Paty Jager



Goats solve their differences head-on. They don’t give the silent treatment or yell, they butt heads, and then it’s over.

Cowboy Marvin has learned humans resolve issues differently especially those romantically involved. His curiosity sparked, he has invited authors to stop by on Fridays and share the first fight out of their latest book.







Author  


Paty Jager
      
        
     is here for ...



First Fight Friday 

with a scene from 


Double Duplicity
A Shandra Higheagle Mystery

Amateur sleuth, Shandra Higheagle, a potter who sells her vases as art, is trying to prove her friend, who she saw running from an art gallery right before Shandra found the murdered gallery owner, is innocent. She and her friend are attending an art event when the detective looking into the murder interrupts their conversation.



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“I think that would be a good idea.”

Shandra’s neck popped as she jerked her head to look up at the voice. Damn! Poor timing. Detective Greer stood over them holding a clear plastic baggie of ice. He handed it to her and knelt next to Naomi.

“Mrs. Norton, now would be a good time to tell me what you want to get off your conscience.” His soothing voice didn’t fool Shandra.

“Naomi, you haven’t done anything wrong. There isn’t any reason—”

Detective Greer shot her a glare. “Mrs. Norton are you the one who tossed a file about your sister into the dumpster behind the donut shop?”

Shandra couldn’t stop her friend’s reaction. Naomi shot to her feet as if to run, then dropped into the chair and cried into her hands.

“Are you happy?” Shandra spat at the detective. “It’s taken her months to get over her sister’s death, and you bring it up with about as much tact as a rhino in rut.” Shandra put an arm around her friend. “I don’t want you asking her any more questions until you get her husband over here.” She leveled an unwavering glare on the detective.

He sighed and rose to his feet. “If you try to sneak her out of here while I get the husband, I’ll find you both and haul you in for obstruction of justice.”

She continued to glare at him.

“Am I clear?”

“Yes.” Shandra wanted to keep glaring at him, but as he walked away she had to admit, he could have pressed Naomi for information.

Copyright © Paty Jager

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Double Duplicity; A Shandra Higheagle Mystery by Paty Jager

On the eve of the biggest art event at Huckleberry Mountain Resort, potter Shandra Higheagle finds herself in the middle of a murder investigation. She’s ruled out as a suspect, but now it’s up to her to prove the friend she witnessed fleeing the scene was just as innocent. With help from her recently deceased Nez Perce grandmother, Shandra becomes more confused than ever but just as determined to discover the truth.

Detective Ryan Greer prides himself on solving crimes and refuses to ignore a single clue, including Shandra Higheagle’s visions.

While Shandra is hesitant to trust her dreams, Ryan believes in them and believes in her.

Can the pair uncover enough clues for Ryan to make an arrest before one of them becomes the next victim?


Double Duplicity
A Shandra Higheagle Mystery
Available for pre-order now at a special price of $0.99 
until the release date of January 10, 2015.

Amazon ~ Kobo ~  ITunes ~ Nook


Want to know more about Paty?

Paty was a Fire Writer for Written Fireside 
Of The Storm and Be Mine, Marshal. 

She had a fun Fire Writer Friday interview with Cowboy Marvin. 

Paty is a multi-published author. Her latest western historical: 


Evil spirits, star-crossed lovers, and duty…
which will prevail? 

AND

About Paty: 

Award-winning author Paty Jager and her husband raise alfalfa hay in rural eastern Oregon. On her road to publication she wrote freelance articles for two local newspapers and enjoyed her job with the County Extension service as a 4-H Program Assistant. Raising hay and cattle, riding horses, and battling rattlesnakes, she not only writes the western lifestyle, she lives it.

All her work has Western or Native American elements in them along with hints of humor and engaging characters. Her penchant for research takes her on side trips that eventually turn into yet another story.


Follow Paty Jager online


Thanks for sharing Paty!

Friday, December 5, 2014

First Fight Friday: Skating at Somerset House : Love London Series Book 1 by Nikki Moore

Goats solve their differences head-on. They don’t give the silent treatment or yell, they butt heads, and then it’s over.

Cowboy Marvin has learned humans resolve issues differently especially those romantically involved. His curiosity sparked, he has invited authors to stop by on Fridays and share the first fight out of their latest book.






Fellow Harper Impulse author  


Nikki Moore 
      
        
     is here for ...



First Fight Friday 

with a scene from 

Skating at Somerset House 
Love London Series Book 1


There’s nothing Holly Winterlake loves more than Christmas and skating.

Noel Summerford hates the festive season and is a disaster on the ice.

Things are bound to get interesting when these two collide…


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Holly and Jasper watched in silence as a man wrapped up to the max with a face like a British thundercloud under a beanie hat slipped and lurched around the rink, arms flailing, even though every few feet he was using the wall to steady himself.
From the look on his face, Jasper was embarrassed. Heck, Holly felt embarrassed, but it was for Jasper's dad on his behalf, rather than not wanting to be seen with him. 'Well, at least he's trying,' she said from corner of her mouth, 'he might get better.'

'Ummm…' the boy gave her a doubtful look.

But bless, you had to give the guy points for being here for his son, and making a bit of an idiot of himself in the process. Maybe he just wasn't very fit. He looked a bit bulky and soft around the middle. Or perhaps he didn't have good balance. Shame he wasn't a child; otherwise he could use one of the penguin skating aids available for the younger skaters in the separate area down the South Wing end.

Right. Two birds with one diplomatic, tactful stone then. 'Come on,' she gestured the boy to follow her, 'let's go ask him about you trying something a bit more adventurous. Hi, there!' Her tone was friendly as she skated up behind the man, but unfortunately it unnerved him. Whipping his head round, his feet scissored, arms wind-milling. Trying to find his centre of gravity but failing, his legs started to slide in opposite directions. 'Oops!' Acting on instinct, Holly moved in, threading her arms under his to hoist him up, leaning forward for balance. 'Woah, there you go. I've got you.'

Practically spooning the guy upright wasn't the most professional way to help and she might get a telling off by the Front of House Manager, but it was the best she could do at short notice.

He didn't reply, just made a grunting sound and shook his head.

With his back plastered to her front and bum tucked into the curve of her hips, she realised he wasn't as bulky as he first seemed; it was the never ending amount of layers he was wrapped in. No wonder he was having issues, his upper body was totally constricted. No, he wasn't soft around the middle; he was actually quite nicely built.

'Okay?' she asked a little breathlessly. Untangling their arms, she steadied him with a firm hand and glided them over to the side, checking to make sure Jasper was still with them. The little boy gave her a reassuring nod, keeping pace.

'No, I'm not okay,' the guy spat as soon as he was hanging on to the wall, 'you scared the crap out of me!'


The girl took a step back at his tone, emotions flickering over her face; astonishment, irritation, simmering anger, settling at last on blank politeness. Pale blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail, she had glacier blue eyes, creamy skin and was girl next door pretty, but everything about her screamed winter. He preferred the hot Latin type. Women with curves and smouldering dark eyes. Not women who looked like Taylor Swift's slightly taller twin. The loose purple tabard - Ice Marshall in white script across the front - worn over some kind of waterproofs was hardly sexy. She could be straight up and down under there. Not that it mattered.

'I'm sorry if I startled you,' she said, every word coated with frost. 'But perhaps I can talk you through some skating tips?' Looking pointedly at Jasper, who was gazing up at Noel with a puzzled expression.

Noel realised what he'd said and the way he'd said it, and gritted his teeth. First he'd had to be publicly rescued, then he'd spoken to his rescuer like a spoilt five year old. That wasn't okay. Frustration tumbled through him. He wasn't getting any better at skating. And there was a funny hitch in his stomach at having a woman plastered up against him for the first time in two years, since- Stop. There was no way he was going to think about her now.

'I'm sorry if I was rude,' he glanced at the girl apologetically. 'And thank you for the offer…?'

'Holly.'

'Holly. But I'm not interested in getting any better.' Shaking his head. 'I might be here tomorrow, but after that I don't plan to come near an ice rink for a really long time.'

She giggled, then bit her lower lip, teeth straight and white except for a slightly crooked canine. It was a tiny imperfection, but somehow appealing.

He cleared his throat, raising one eyebrow, 'Are you allowed to laugh at customers?'

'S-sorry,' she choked, covering her mouth, 'probably not, I just- ahem,' she dropped her hand, smiling, 'you just sounded so pained. I had a fleeting thought … I wondered if you were traumatised.'

'Yeah,' he drawled, elbowing aside the mental note his treacherous brain had made about what an appealing shade of pink her lips were, 'I'll be seeking compensation from Somerset House to fund some counselling sessions.'

Her smile widened, eyes twinkling. 'It would be a conflict for me to give evidence on your behalf,' she joked, 'but you definitely seem like you could use them.'

'I'll let you know how I get on,' he grinned back, then fell silent. Why was he flirting with her? She wasn't his type, and the last thing he needed was a woman complicating things. 'Anyway,' he muttered, 'I'd better get on.' He turned away to pull himself along the edge of the rink using the wall. 'Come on, Jay.'

Copyright © Nikki Moore
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Skating at Somerset House by Nikki Moore


There’s nothing Holly Winterlake loves more than Christmas and skating, so working as an Ice Marshall at London's Somerset House is a dream come true.

Noel Summerford hates the festive season and is a disaster on the ice, so taking his godson to Somerset House is his idea of the nightmare before Christmas!

Things are bound to get interesting when these two collide…

With a forty foot Christmas tree, an assortment of well meaning friends and relatives, and a mad chocolate Labrador, will this festive season be one to remember … or forget?

Skating at Somerset House 
Love London Series Book 1
Amazon ~ Google Play ~  ITunes ~ Nook


AND

Remember more books in the #LoveLondon series are coming soon!

Released over December 14 to May 15 by HarperImpulse;






Bk 2, New Year at The Ritz (Short Story)









Bk 3, Valentine's on Primrose Hill (Short Story)  







Bk 4, Cocktails in Chelsea (Short Story)
Bk 5, Strawberries at Wimbledon (Short Story)
Bk 6, Picnics in Hyde Park, (Novel)





Want even more from Nikki?









About Nikki: 

Nikki Moore lives in beautiful Dorset and writes short stories and sexy contemporary romances. A finalist in several writing competitions including Novelicious Undiscovered 2012, she graduated from the Romantic Novelists Association New Writers' Scheme after four years and and has contributed to their magazine Romance Matters. She has far too much fun attending the annual RNA conference and has previously chaired a panel and taken part in a workshop at the Festival of Romance.

She blogs about some of her favourite things – Writing, Work and Wine – here and believes in supporting other writers as part of a friendly, talented and diverse community. You can find her on Facebook or on 
Twitter and she invites you to pop in for chats about love, life, reading or writing!


Thanks for sharing Nikki!


Thursday, December 4, 2014

Skating at Somerset House: Love London Series Book 1 by Nikki Moore





Skating at Somerset House 
Love London Series Book 1 
by Nikki Moore












There’s nothing Holly Winterlake loves more than Christmas and skating, so working as an Ice Marshall at London's Somerset House is a dream come true.

Noel Summerford hates the festive season and is a disaster on the ice, so taking his godson to Somerset House is his idea of the nightmare before Christmas!

Things are bound to get interesting when these two collide…

With a forty foot Christmas tree, an assortment of well meaning friends and relatives, and a mad chocolate Labrador, will this festive season be one to remember … or forget?


More books in the #LoveLondon series coming soon!

Released over December 14 to May 15 by HarperImpulse;







Bk 2, New Year at The Ritz (Short Story)









Bk 3, Valentine's on Primrose Hill (Short Story)  







Bk 4, Cocktails in Chelsea (Short Story)
Bk 5, Strawberries at Wimbledon (Short Story)
Bk 6, Picnics in Hyde Park, (Novel)


Want a taste of Skating at Somerset House?

Come back tomorrow for 

First Fight Friday 

Nikki Moore will be sharing a scene from her new release ^_^


In the mean time, check Nikki out, she blogs about some of her favourite things – Writing, Work and Wine – here and believes in supporting other writers as part of a friendly, talented and diverse community. You can also find her on Facebook or on Twitter and she invites you to pop in for chats about love, life, reading or writing!




Thursday, November 27, 2014

Happy Thanksgiving with Lynn Marie Hulsman




For a Thanksgiving special treat 
Cowboy Marvin invited a special friend over to share some thoughts and a couple of recipes so grab your chef hat and say howdy to the lovely and super talented 










Lynn Marie Hulsman 


        
           





Six days ago, when I glanced at the enormous calendar in my kitchen announcing the schedule of each of the four members of our family, I nearly experienced cardiac arrest.
Thanksgiving is soon, the board warned me.



Less than a week away. 

A hand-drawn cornucopia in the square for 
November 27th proved it. 




I’ll be honest: I’ve been pulling an ostrich about Turkey Day. When I invited guests two months ago, it all seemed so… possible. 


Some people were born to host. They’re the ones whose houses are neat as a pin when you drop by unannounced. They never panic about not having eight matching wineglasses or enough folding chairs because they know their inventory. Ushering friends or strangers through their doors and handing them drinks invigorates these hosts and hostesses. 




My grandmother was one. 

So was my mom.


I don’t know how the gene skipped me, but here I am in midlife, wishing either of them was at the end of the phone line to advise me on how many potatoes and bottles of wine to factor per guest. 



My friend, Rabbi Joy Levitt, once said that all one needs to make an occasion special is a white tablecloth. It marks that a day is different, she pointed out. Beyond that, it’s all about celebrating. 


This year, I latched on to this idea and gave myself permission to do no more than pull out a white tablecloth, if that was all I could handle. I dug out my grandmother’s white cotton and lace tablecloth, and set up the ironing board. I also ironed my mother’s white linen one for the buffet table and eight cloth napkins, enjoying the crisp formality of my table dressings. 

Inspired, I searched for her gold-plated flatware that I haven’t seen since we moved apartments 4 years ago. I found that, along with the silver that matched my mom’s china. As I write this, I am looking at my dining table with the extra leaves added. I alternated place settings belonging to two women who raised me. I’m using their china, their crystal, their gold, their silver. 






For good measure, I stuck a pine cone in a mason jar, a tiny gourd in a vase, and some brown and orange flowers in a vase. I’m neither crafty nor artistic, but it shows I made an effort. It shows I know that this day is special. 




My grandmother and mother are gone. On holidays, we’re all reminded of those who are no longer with us. Life is short, and our days are limited. I find this uplifting, not depressing. Today, I choose not to worry that my food might not be Michelin star-worthy or that my loveseat’s slipcover has a hole in it. 

On Thanksgiving, I plan to enjoy myself. Worry steals joy.



My son saw me polishing my treasures and said, “Mom, you look really happy.” I realized that I am. I don’t feel anxious about hosting this year, 
I feel expectant. 
Ready to welcome. 



In my heart I know that my guests won’t look around for my undusted corners or judge me for having a pile of unfiled bills on the corner of the piano. They will be happy to spend the day with me, with my kind husband, and my hilarious children. They will be grateful that I opened the wine and set a turkey in front of them. Their hearts will lift when they see the beautiful table that was dressed for their to honor and please them. 

This Thanksgiving, I’m grateful for the understanding that each moment is a choice. I can choose to dwell on what’s not perfect or I can choose to marvel at daily miracles. I have money to shop with, hands to cook with, and yes, even a strong back that allows me to bend over and scrub my toilets before the big day. 



I had women who raised me to adulthood. I have friends of my choosing who have become family, and I have healthy children. I have eyes with which to see my lovely table.


 
I am lucky. Like I tell my children, we have everything we need and some of the things we want. 


RECIPES 


Yes, turkey is the centerpiece of every Thanksgiving feast. The roast provides the ooh/aah moment that sets this day apart. But if you ask me, the sides are what people are really after. And the more the merrier, in my opinion. Half the fun is trying to figure out how to take a spoon of this and a pile of that, and fit it all onto one dinner plate.

Southern wisdom tells us, “Ain’t no one ever said, ‘Hell no, I don’t want me no buffet of side dishes!’”

Everyone has one or two special dishes without which it wouldn’t be Thanksgiving. Celebrate abundance, and please the crowd, I say. This year, I’m having cornbread and chestnut stuffing right alongside the celery and onion stuffing. If a guest wants to request, or even better bring a dish, my answer is yes. Mofongo, yams with marshmallows, jello with grated carrots inside, noodle kugel… all are welcome. 

I’m including two recipes here, one for my Minted Mashed Carrots and one for my friend Kate’s family’s Broccoli and Cauliflower Salad. Both of these dishes make me very happy. 

Wishing you and yours that which makes you happy this holiday season!



The Fullerton Family’s Broccoli Cauliflower Salad


This recipe was graciously given to me by my friend Kate, and was passed down from her grandmother. I love it for its crunch, and freshness. This salad is a great way to sneak a healthful side dish into a meal because the pleasing sweetness and tang of the dressing tones down the strong flavors of the cruciferous vegetables. 

It’s a wonderful complement to a savory roast such as barbequed brisket or garlic-infused eye of the round, and it’s equally at home next to a pile of fried chicken. Pretty on the plate, it’s simple, homey, and comforting.

*Makes 8 Servings



For the salad:


Tiny florets of one head of cauliflower

Tiny florets of equivalent bunches of broccoli

1 med/small red onion, diced

1 4-ounce jar sweet, diced pimientos, drained well



For the dressing:

1 cup mayonnaise (recipe originally called for 1 cup Miracle Whip)

1/2 cup vegetable oil

1/3 cup white distilled vinegar

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon dry mustard (ground)

Salt and pepper to taste



Place salad ingredients in a large mixing bowl. 

In another large mixing bowl, blend dressing ingredients with whisk. Pour the dressing over the vegetables, toss lightly, and refrigerate overnight if possible. Serve chilled. 

Store in the refrigerator in a tightly lidded container for up to 
3 days.


Minted Mashed Carrots


Winter is the time for comforting foods, the sturdy ones that stick to your ribs. I love root vegetables — carrots in particular — for checking that box. This cheerily bright side dish is homey, while popping as not-your-every-day fare. The tangy citrus harmonizes with the herbal mint, making this mash perfect for serving alongside savory meats with rich gravies. 

This recipe was inspired by one developed in the Fine Cooking “Fakesgiving” trial run cooking marathon in which cooks make as many Thanksgiving sides as they possibly can. It certainly holds its own on a table with a turkey dinner, or why not serve it to balance the bold flavors of gamey venison steaks or rich Moroccan-spiced lamb meatballs.


*Makes 4 Generous Servings


2 pounds / 900 grams carrots, peeled and cut into small chunks 
(about 1 inch / 2 1/2 centimeters) 

2 teaspoons coarse sea salt, divided

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 tablespoons whipping cream or double cream

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh mint

1/2 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

1 tablespoon orange juice

1/2 teaspoon finely ground black pepper


In a medium saucepan, set over high heat, combine the carrots with enough cold water to cover by about 1 inch / 2 1/2 centimeters. Add 1 teaspoon of sea salt and bring the water to a boil. Reduce the heat to low, and simmer until the carrots are fork tender, about 30 minutes.

Transfer the carrots to a colander and drain, allowing them to rest.

In the same saucepan, set over low heat, combine the remaining salt, oil, cream, butter, mint, lemon zest, orange juice, and pepper, and heat gently, stirring occasionally, until the butter melts and the ingredients combine. 

Return the carrots to the pan with the oil and butter mixture and mash with a potato masher. Serve immediately.

Store in the refrigerator in a tightly lidded container for up to 
3 days.

Lynn Marie is a fellow Harper Impulse author,
Fire Writer for Written Fireside
in 
She also frequently visits Cowboy Marvin.

Her debut novel 
Christmas at Thornton Hall


is available on Amazon


as is her latest release
Summer at Castle Stone
*Shortlisted Best E-Book - Festival of Romantic Fiction 



About Lynn Marie: 

Lynn Marie Hulsman believes that the best things in life are food, comedy, and romance. Lynn Marie's most recent novel, Summer at Castle Stone, has been shortlisted for "Best E-Book" from The Festival of Romantic Fiction in England. Her debut novel, Christmas at Thornton Hall is acclaimed by critics and audiences alike. Last summer, she was invited to sit on a panel on global publishing at The Romance Writers of America festival in San Antonio, Texas. She is also the co-writer of the cookbooks Make Your Own Soda, published by Clarkson-Potter and The Irish Pantry, published by Running Press. She is the sole author of The Bourbon Dessert Cookbook, which has enjoyed excellent reviews in Garden & Gun Magazine and The Wall Street Journal. As a comic, she has performed at Austin’s Big Stinkin’ Comedy Festival and appeared at New York City’s Caroline’s Comedy Club, Stand-Up New York, and Don't Tell Mama. She co-owns and is the artistic director of the improv group ComedySportz New York. Her very favorite thing to do on the planet is to read books, with writing them coming in at a close second. Her mission is to bring back Chick Lit. She lives with her family in New York City, where she writes for a living. 

Lynn Marie is represented by Stephany Evans of FinePrint Literary.


Follow Lynn Marie Hulsman online

Thanks for sharing Lynn Marie!


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