Whenever You Come Around – A Review

_225_350_Book.1585.coverWhenever You Come Around : A Kings Meadow Romance by Robin Lee Hatcher

Charity Anderson grew up in Kings Meadow having a crush on Buck Malone through high school, but then she went to college, partied, and made some big mistakes that she has kept from everyone, even herself. She grew up and became a semi famous author. A flood forces her to leave her Boise home in the hands of contractors for massive repairs, so she relocates back to her parent’s home in Kings Meadow for the summer while they are off in Europe for a vacation of a lifetime. She’s there to write her new novel, a romance story she really hasn’t ever written before. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Buck Malone is her parent’s neighbor. When a fluke accident with Buck, Charity, and Charity’s dog, Cocoa, leaves Buck with a broken ankle and wrist, Buck is left having to rely on friends, family, and Charity to help him get through this time. A time that will be tough since he is a back country guide, and now his business is at a complete standstill.

But matters of the heart are at stake as Charity and Buck grow closer, despite Charity’s past coming back to sink it’s claws into what could be a marvelous relationship.  Meanwhile, Buck is struggling with the fact that he’s been a bit of a lady’s man in Kings Meadow and he doesn’t want to settle down.  Or does he?  Will Charity’s sweetness work on him, softening him up?  Will Buck’s strength give Charity the ability to tell her secrets she’s kept from everyone?  Will Charity stay or go home to Boise?  Will Buck heal and go back to his guide business?  Only time will tell in this short, sweet romance.

I was in the mood for a ‘western’ themed book when I selected this.  It is part of series of stories Robin Lee Hatcher has set in King’s Meadow. The struggles are real, and I really like the fact that the heroine was a writer/author. I have a penchant for those types of stories.  The writing was really good and I loved how Ms. Hatcher brought in touches of modern things, like Pinterest and cell phones and various other things that I find a lot of authors leave out of books taking place in our current time.  The mistakes Charity had made in the past and kept secret were real, and how she kept them a secret was part of what made her a woman who found it hard to trust other people

Spoiler Alert Highlight to Read

Charity partied in college, got drunk, slept with a former high school classmate, got pregnant, then the baby miscarried

For the most part, this was a pretty romance. Nothing spectacular, though I did like how Charity and Buck were immediately affected by their first kiss. I just thought the story dragged out a little longer than needed and added bits of information left me wondering where I was in the story and how it fit.  It’s not so much that they didn’t fit, but they needed to fit a little better so the moving from scene to scene flowed better and I wasn’t left wondering how something moved the story forward. There are some aspects I was left scratching my head over.  And I felt the ending was a little too long in coming.  It really wasn’t until the last three pages that the whole story and issues were solved and BOOM! story is over.  I think an epilogue would have been helpful because I felt like I was left hanging in the middle of the story.

I’m curious about trying more of Ms. Hatcher’s books. I would give this a 3 out of 5 stars.

 

This book was provided to me free from BookLookBloggers and HarperCollins Christian Publishing for my honest review. I was in no way compensated for my opinion.

 

Kate

Unmotivated Me

It’s not that I don’t have things to write about. It’s not even that I don’t have the time…. Okay, well time is limited right now. But I’m just not motivated to write.  I have a two book reviews I need to post, a book I need to finish reading before I can write a review, letters to friends, ideas for writing, a blog post on haying season, pictures….. The list goes on and on.

But right now about all I’m interested in doing is daydreaming and reading. I haven’t even written much of anything. Okay, that’s not true. I did write a poem just this last week titled “Elephants”. I should type it up and share it because I’m kind of proud of how it turned out.

I have been dabbling in a new piece of fiction which was inspired by ASMR and The French Whisperer over on Youtube. I seriously suggest if you are interested in ASMR to check his channel out. The tingles this guy can put up my spine….. Whew!  Magic. Puts me to sleep every time I listen to him at night.  Recently I listened to his take on the History of the Palace of Versailles.  That was really interesting for one, and really relaxing for another.  And I’m going off on a different tangent.

My reading has consisted of a bit of poetry; Rumi, Billy Collins, Rilke; an Emilie Loring, a few random fiction books, and the desire to read A Farewell to Arms and The Great Gatsby.  I have failed to finish anything nor get very far in anything.

One major reason for all this lack of motivation is right now the farming is in full swing.  What with watering, picking, and the heat….. well there isn’t a lot of down time. I am getting to the point of the season where I can spend two to three hours picking blueberries. Not to mention a few hours watering, oh and I cook two meals a day and do the laundry and pick up the house… Okay the house is kind of a joke right now.  There is way too much dust in all spots and I would NOT want anyone to come over.  Some places make me want to scream.

California is in a serious drought so watering is a conscious effort to not waste water.  Lawns? Pshaw! Those are going by the wayside except for where there are fruit trees because anyone who knows anything about gardening knows that fruit tree roots extend beyond what you think.  So the lawn around the trees gets watered.  And because this is a very dry year, the spider mites have set in.  On the positive side of things, the spider mites are the reason we have had burnt looking leaves on several plants for several years.  One would think it would be crazy to say that was a positive thing, but now I know that it wasn’t my fault in how I watered. Okay, indirectly it was because lack of water leads to the mites coming in, but it wasn’t like I wasn’t watering good enough, it was more that it wasn’t quite enough to deal with the infestation.

So, as you can see, it’s rather busy.  I hope to get a book review for a Christian romance up this week. And also Persephone Books let me read their book The Homemaker by Dorothy Canfield Fisher.  Marvelous book. I have been a bit behind with getting that review written as well.  And lastly, my post on haying season with pictures…..

So, hopefully soon this blog will be back into ship shape…. Excluding my random pages that need a serious updating.

I need a maid.

Le sigh, as Jules says.

 

Kate

Things That Confuse Men

I started thinking about this subject after  my father looked at me and said my hair is always slightly rats-nest-y.  I told him it was controlled dishevelment.  I’m not sure he believed me.  And watching the Bachelorette this last week where guys had to explain puberty and feminine products and such, in such a hilarious manner…. and recently this marvelous ad for Carefree liners…. oh the things guys just don’t get.

 

 

So, things that I find confuse men….

curled hair

My hair today which was actually right how I like it. Not like I have just done my hair but slightly relaxed. Great isn’t it?

1. Hair styles that are controlled dishevelment.  For instance, I dry my hair straight, then curl it, pinning up the curls with hair clips… guys don’t get that and why you have to dry it first, or why you have to curl it before you put your hair up….. After I take out the hair clips, I fluff and tease and spray with magic hair spray.  Then the curls look so natural it’s like you didn’t even do anything.  That. Is. The. Point.  To not look like you were even trying to curl your hair. Like hair just naturally falls that way.  Trust me, guys do not get hair routines.  They do not get why you have to put the hair gel on just so and just right and in such and such an order. But guys, it’s worth it. Does your sweetheart look amazing?  Then trust me, she has probably done some backwards method to get her hair that way.  But it works.

 

2.  Nail polish and various colors and glitter and creams versus frosts.  Nail polish is nail polish to a guy.  Yellow is yellow and if it just so happens to match your outfit, great.  But why do you need three greens?  Or five sparkle ones, or why do you need this black when you already have a black and honey, don’t you think your collection is large enough?  For me, I can never have too many nail polishes.  Right now my father has indulged me with them, and I have a serious collection that matches all my summer shirts. But he doesn’t get nail polish. He really doesn’t get why I ooh and ahh over the new sparkle polishes filled with glitter.  Men don’t get glitter.  Obviously they have never paid attention that women like shiny things. Glitter is the cheap way to have lots of shine.  And for me, since I can’t indulge in my true passion, shoes, nail polishes work…. which leads me to Number 3…..

 

3. Shoes.  I still don’t understand why guys are still confused by our love of shoes.  For one, they always tell me that I look good in heels and I have met a lot of men who are legs men. They love to look at legs in a pair of nice heels. So, if that’s the case, um, you need shoes. Duh.  And I’m sure they wonder why you need three pink shoes, but hey, if it’s summer then you need the strappy sandal or the cute kitten heel.  Wedges (which I don’t do) platforms, heels, flats, pink, blue, silver, green, black with stripes, black with zebra print, and various boots with heels, or not or…. I love shoes, I really do. I love to wear them around a guy. I love that they make me a bit taller than my 5’4″ frame. They make me feel sexy. Heck, they make me sexy.  Shoes bring confidence and a feeling of accomplishment. They are what make women sexy.  So why a guy wouldn’t get a woman wanting to be sexy… blows me away. Granted, yeah, they can make our feet hurt, but still… in pain we are still sexy.

 

Okay, so those are my three things so far that I know confuse guys.  They will shake their heads at certain things and if you discuss it, you can see the blank stares starting. It’s rather funny.

 

I am curious though, does anyone else know of things that totally confuse guys?  Things that make us uniquely women?  Things that they may like we do, but seriously do not get?  Write me and tell me….. Which means, comment below. :)

 

Kate (in the glittery pink nail polish)

 

Right For Me – A Poem

472622366Back over my birthday and the week prior I met a darling boy/man, and I was still dealing with new feelings about Boris.  Recently my emotions have gotten the better of me as I watch The Bachelorette and drool over gorgeous men, at the same time dealing with Boris and possibly someone new in my life.  (Online dating can be a whirlwind in it’s own way)

I have had poetry and romance and kisses in my head to the point where I have this perpetual knot in my chest.  I can’t write it all down enough and I am getting stuck and lost in my mind more and more. Fortunately, I was able to capture some of what I’m struggling with in a piece of poetry.  I am titling it ‘Right For Me’ because I’m not sure what else to call it. I think my birthday….. no, pardon Neeko, was the catalyst to all of this.

 

 

 

 

Right For Me

I’m too old for you
Too young for him
Just right for me

I’m too close to there
Too far from here
I’m just in between

My words too long
The story too short
The plot just right

I’m looking back
I’m plowing forth
Just standing still

I like you a lot
I love him a little
I’m happy with me

I wish on you
I hope for him
I dream for me

 

Just a little something to express myself.

 

Kate

 

Poetry from Poemcrazy Workshop

Here are three poems from the workshop with Susan Wooldridge.

Using word tickets, word pools, post cards, stolen words and pure magic.  All of these poems here brought tears, full of raw emotion and feelings.  I do hope you enjoy.

I Remember by V. Krueger

I Remember
Hewn stone
Hopscotch on the kitchen floor,
Blue sky, full moons
Strange surprises and early spring
I remember
Frail old people, laughing children
Rambunctious conversations over dinner
The smell of a warm stove and coffee

I remember
Enchanting, silly, lost little girls,
Plates stacked, silver, really?
Dark, dank, scary, stairs to the cellar
I remember
Cold winters, pancakes and syrup
Important dreams
Steaming milk, the smell of diesel.
I remember
Shaggy horses,
The delightful smell of cows,
swish, swish, swish , milk in the pail, a warm barn..



Amnesia, I Have Forgotten What I Was by Katie Lyn Branson

I am Life the dishsoap in the
Spanish home disembodied as my
Mother stands at the kitchen sink
Singing to my sister about shortning
Bread
The sweet, sweet, sweet smell of chocolate
Chip cookies, the chlorine as she cleans the
Sink
Sewing up shadows of compact berries
I remember the expression, No problem
Knocking full of neon light-script
Nom Nom she says, yes yes I’ll have
Another song
The language of the north hand calls me
And I’m the dishes as I set the table
Come back to me potato chips
Crunchy with mustard, sour, salty
Honey tastes, not dainty
Amnesia, I have forgotten what I was
Encounter me in Monaco, a glittering
Firebrat, stunning as a Japanese Geisha
Three lovely syllables form me
Mira, headlights Wildfire
I am leafless trees of burnt umber
Dancing and sensual,
I am a cactus prickly when you prod me
I am a Victorian lady, proper and prim
Every moaning lover calls me home
The agony of eternity’s with them
An ocean full of squares, sharp
The softness of a waterfall full of leaves
Beckons me to the bloodroot of me
The Swamp Dewberry, earthy and sweet
I am so many things knocking at myself
As I chain-smoke my words on paper and
Become a lurking mask of myself
sewing up shadows of a bubble

Ball on the Green by Katie Lyn Branson
I feel like the endless golf ball on the
green, lonely and waiting to be hit from
the club
The luminosity of the sun shines on my
white surface in a desert of green
The rain hits the umbrella, plink plunk thunk
The feather boa around my neck is soft
Tickling my chin
I feel like wearing red and dancing on the
green. The green velvet lawn in July
as you take the weekend to burrow yourself
away and forget what I said to you in a musical moment.
I feel lost waiting for the hit to come
from you sending me spinning and reeling
towards the hole.
Another point for you as you score a
Par four and write it with your little
pencil of grafite
I could erase your marks and write
in my own.
I win! I shout at you.
For once I have the upper hand
Your stalking Jaguar-self won’t scare
me this century
Photograph me as I dance in the rain
over cobblestoned streets, my silken skirts
An Oriental Poppy of endless movement.

Kate

All poetry is copywrited 2015 by V. Krueger and Katie Lyn Branson.  Do not use without permission.

Meeting Susan G. Wooldridge

I lead a very quiet life, so having the chance to meet an author I absolutely love, has been a huge highlight of my year.  I have rambled on a fair amount about Susan Wooldridge, author of Poemcrazy and Foolsgold often enough that I worry I’m going to wear you readers out.  However, when one falls in love with a book or set of books, or in this case, the author, one tends to go on about it quite a lot.

Just recently my local library hosted a free workshop with Susan Wooldridge and I was fortunate enough to be able to attend.  It was all and more than I could have ever imagined, leaving me with some stunning poetry, if I do say so myself, and a host of inspiration. I was able to meet other authors that gather every Saturday, at my library none the less, and it was a wonderful experience.

Susan is even more fun in person than I would have ever thought. I mean, I love her books and her style of writing is wonderful, but she’s actually like that in person! I could gush…. Okay, I kind of am gushing. I may continue through this with much more.

The 'Wild Women of Etna"

The ‘Wild Women of Etna”

We started off our session ‘stealing words’ from the stacks of poetry books Susan brought with her. (on a side note, I want to have half of those books. I didn’t have time to write down all the amazing titles!) Flipping through the books we grabbed words we liked or called to us from these books, writing them down on a sheet of paper.  I grabbed so many words I wanted to keep going and going! I had a huge list.  Here is a sample.

headlights, eternity’s, the expression, No problem, every moaning lover, chain-smoking, neon light-script, leafless trees, cactus, disembodied, dainty, waterful full of leaves, detective, compact berries, gasoline, ocean, Bloodroot, Swamp Dewberry, Victorian, Paint November…..

Then we started throwing words up onto the whiteboard until we had this AMAZING wordpool.

Susan standing with our word pool.

Susan standing with our word pool.

One of our more hilarious moments was talking about the ‘detective (my word) who charged 3.95 a second’. We kept repeating the phrase over and over trying to fling it into our writing.

Susan then had us all loosen up with dancing in the library parking lot. Our library delivery guy saw us all acting like ninnies, and declined to join in. (I don’t blame him. I mean, the Wild Women were at it…. ) We spun around and said our vowels in a song of movement.

We pulled out Susan’s word tickets; words cut from various sources and taped to ‘Admit One’ tickets. If you have read Poemcrazy, you will know what these are. Sadly, I did not get a picture of them.  I need to make my own, but have not gotten around to it yet.

IMG_5659

Our poetry starters, now on my ceiling for further inspiration.

Then we started writing using starter phrases of I remember, I come from, I am not, I am, and so forth.  We used our word pools we had stolen and the words thrown up on the white board. We scribbled away, me with my red fountain pen, writing furiously.

Then came the heart wrenching moment when Susan asked if she could read our poems aloud.  I have to say, while I handed out mine first because I was done, I was quivering inside. Do you know how personal a poem is? If you are a poet, then yes, but for those that do not write it , it can be a nerve wracking experience to have someone read a very rough draft of what you just wrote.

As Erin Andrews said recently on an episode of Dancing with the Stars, ‘this show is sponsored by Kleenix’….

We cried and we laughed, oohed, aahed and were blown away by the stories we told in just moments.  One writer, Robbie, made me want to cry with how beautiful her poetry was. She described this place that I wanted to step into that reminded me of the Melendy Family in Elizabeth Enright‘s  “The Four Story Mistake.”  And Vicki’s poem was so beautiful…. I will include hers within this post as she was gracious enough to allow me to post her poetry to share.

A small break, goodies from the Friends of the Library, then back to work this time  with switched out word tickets and postcards we selected that called to us.  I chose three, that I don’t have a picture of. A Georgia O’Keefe red poppy, an impressionist painting of rain on a cobblestone street in some French city, and a stone sphere on a green lawn in an abstract painting.  Word tickets and postcards transformed us into a sobbing mess.  I was writing, so quietly, filled with this burning ache in my chest.   I ended crying as Susan read my poem.  It was like I had been slammed by pure emotion.  It was amazing, but wow.

She read all of our poetry and it was stunning.  One phrase from one of the poems I loved was “I’m having a silent affair with my land’.  Isn’t that amazing?

"What's that word?"  with Donna May

“What’s that word?” with Donna May

Reading about the "Snow Angel"

Reading about the “Snow Angel”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We ended the three hour workshop with requests for Susan to come back and moments of awe. I met some amazing ladies and have been invited to meet for the Saturday writing circle!

Susan handed us our Poetry license and we are all official. She even graciously signed our books. (I now have two books signed by an author. I don’t think I could be more jazzed)

I’m seriously inspired and I have started collecting a sample of obscure poetry books to steal words. I mean, I already have done that, but nothing like what I did  at this workshop.

Susan signing her book Poemcrazy

Susan signing her book Poemcrazy

I will post a separate post of my poetry and Vicki’s poetry.  If I can ever get any of the other ladies to share, I will try and post them in another post.

This was one of the best days ever. I know, I sound gushing…. If you ever get the opportunity to go to a workshop with Susan, I highly recommend it. It was incredible.

Kate

Susan and me.  I wanted to go with her.... She said I can visit any time. I will have to take her up on it.

Susan and me. I wanted to go with her…. She said I can visit any time. I will have to take her up on it.

 

 

Related Posts

A Real Life Captain America

In this day and age it isn’t often that you can find someone you truly admire and look up to. There are very few heroes like there used to be and we tend to look to our imaginary superheroes of film or television. Captain America of Marvel fame is quite popular. Embracing the values that made our country great, it’s easy to see why we look at figures like this in awe and respect.  Personally, I’m a huge fan of Captain America.  He embodies the good looking, clean cut, clean life, God fearing, country proud man of the era of WWII, which is obvious since that is his time period.  This is my idea of an ideal man. He had the right qualities, and oh look, he knows how to treat a lady as well.

captain-america-wallpaper-chris-evansBut there are very few men like Captain America. Very few men whom our boys can look up to and have a role model.

Except for maybe one man.

Noah Galloway.

It’s not often that you can look at a man who is ballroom dancing and say, oh, that is someone to admire, but in the case of Noah Galloway, I think he is truly someone to admire. Taking Dancing with the Stars by storm, he has taken the ballroom to new heights and surprised, impressed, and made us all cry.  Who would have ever thought a man missing the limbs on his left side could ever do what he has done every week?

Screen Shot 2015-04-07 at 10.37.26 AM_0Here is a man who was lost out of high school, who saw the two towers being bombed, who decided to sign up to fight for our country.  Who lost his limbs and what was the life he knew in one moment. In one flash everything was gone. He gave his arm and leg for our country. He served our country and fought for our freedom and lost something so personal.  How could anyone who has not been in combat even come close to knowing what this man has gone through.

And yet week after week he danced his heart out, bringing us to tears with his amazing work ethic and self motivation. Here is someone who respects hard work and pushing one’s self. Never giving up even when there were downsides to the dancing. Even though he has never received the highest scores.  Caring for his partner, Sharna Burgess,  in a way that all men should care for a woman, be it friend, mother, sister, lover, etc. He respects women. You can see it in how he treats Sharna.

Here is a man that embodies Captain America.  Who says we need Marvel with a fake hero?  We have a hero right here at home is showing the world what he can do. Pushing himself beyond the boundaries of modern dance.

...... Or the fake shield?

…… Or the fake shield?

Whom would you rather have? A real man like Captain America?......

Whom would you rather have? A real man like Captain America?……

Showing us all that pushing ourselves does get us somewhere.

You want a man for your young son to look up to? Show him Noah Galloway and you are showing him the real Captain America.

I know which captain I would take.

Kate

On the Verge – Prose Poetry

I’m on the verge of being two persons, a little girl with no idea where I am going, but then He says I have attributes that in history, men would start wars over. And I think to myself, how could he not want me with words like that. I am a queen of desire and His words make me that way. Words that make me feel delicious, as he says delicious after I send a glimpse of more than he should ever see. And I wonder if I have become the naughty temptress that revels in her femininity while He stokes fires of longing deep in my belly, my spine tingling with awareness as he prods just a little more and I give in to his suggestions. I’m wicked and good and sexy and sweet. I’m so many things swirled around together to create someone I don’t even know myself. Yet He seems to get me in ways He shouldn’t. He tempts me in ways that are dangerous waters for my heart. I want more and more and more. I want to give in. I want to beg. I want to demand that He give it all to me. I want to whisper his name and toss myself at His feet in supplication. Delight me, demand from me, form me into someone I am not. Turn me from angel to demon. Let me be a *daydream dressed like a nightmare. Let me be woman, let me be Empress to you, my King. Let me sit on the golden throne of someone else and be far more free and alive than I am alone.  He gives me life I never knew and I crave more as he pushes me far more than ever I thought possible. I want to be on the verge of more than I am.

A personal experience brought on this prose. I can’t explain it all and it’s rather personal, but I couldn’t keep it in. I feel I could go on more, but I like the brevity of this.

*Courtesy of ‘Blank Page’ by Taylor Swift

Kate

Dutch Pancake – Flash Fiction

Updated 4/26/15, for Sunday breakfast

Updated 4/26/15, for Sunday breakfast

“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea, water, beer….” Phil trailed off as he watched Emma inspect his bookshelf.

“You drink tea?” she asked as she looked back at him over her shoulder.

He shrugged.  “Sometimes.”

“I’d love some coffee,” Emma answered and pulled out a book with a red spine.  “Do you happen to have eggs, milk, flour, and a skillet?” she asked as if inspired by something.

“Uh…. What?” Phil stared at her dumbfounded as he pulled coffee from the freezer.

“Do you have all of those things?” Emma asked again, enunciating each word carefully as if he was a child.

“Yeah. I do. Why?”

“Excellent.  How long does your coffee take to make?”  Then she noticed he had set out a stove-top percolator.  “Oh, at least fifteen minutes, yes?”

“Um. Yes.”  She was worrying him a bit with her cavalier manner and random questions.

“Good. Pull out the skillet and let me work.”  She seemed all business as she pushed up her sleeves, metaphorically since she was wearing a sleeveless top over tan chinos.

He fixed the coffee, putting it on his gas range to perk while he watched her rummage in his fridge pulling out eggs, milk and butter. Then she was pulling out bowls, a whisk and mixing flour and sugar while beating eggs and milk in another bowl. The butter went into the skillet which in turn ended up in the oven turned up high.

She found his small bottle of vanilla hiding amongst the salt and pepper in his ‘spice’ cabinet.  He ignored her muttered comment about ‘men and their lack of proper cooking spices’.  He was rather mystified by her mixing.

When everything was combined, she yanked the skillet out of the oven and poured the batter into the pan, popped it back into the oven and set a timer.

“That’ll be ready in no time. Do you have jam or powdered sugar?” at his negative shake she frowned.  “Maple syrup?”

“Yes.”

“That’ll do.”  She rinsed everything then wandered back to his bookshelves.

She was rather a conundrum in his mind.  She worked outside most of her day in dirt and soil, but she wore diamond drop earrings.

“Just rhinestones,” she corrected.

She wore sturdy pants and a chambray sleeveless top; riding boots.  But he caught a hint of lace hiding beneath the shirt.  Why would someone getting dirty outside wear lacy lingerie underneath?

She was prim and proper with her attitude and spoke without cursing, though she did let a swear word out as she commented about something she hated.  She read naughty books but liked to write clean and elegant poetry.  She admired his Varga paintings, and liked some of his more ‘risque’ books, but she looked like she stepped out of a Norman Rockwell.  Or something that would be considered ladylike.  A study in contradiction.

She was gleeful when the timer rang and she opened the door to the oven, shielding the contents from him.  Then he was utterly surprised at the giant puffed up pastry, or whatever she had made, that was practically escaping from the pan.

“It’s a Dutch pancake,” she answered his minor shock.  She directed him to get plates and forks while she cut the pastry and the whole thing collapsed.  The doused their halves of the pancake with the fake syrup in his cupboard and carried their plates and cups of coffee out to the deck, sitting in the mid-afternoon sun overlooking the mountain lake.

His first mouthful was pure decadence. Not too rich or sweet, but oh so satisfying.  He caught her grin as she bit into a dainty bite of hers.

“I moaned, didn’t I?” he asked.

She giggled.  “You did, but I’m glad you like it.  It’s my specialty.”

“Well you do a damn fine job of it.”

“Thank you.”

“I may have to keep you around,” he said as he devoured his piece.

“I may let you,” she teased.

The thing was, he wasn’t teasing……………

Ah, flash fiction…. sometimes it comes out perfectly.  This was inspired by a recent thought and my new love of Dutch pancakes that I make almost daily for my family. There is something so magical about eggs, milk, flour, sugar and butter that puff up to something so ooey gooey yumminess.  For those interested, I highly recommend King Arthur Flour’s recipe but up the sugar. I don’t use lemon, but it’s a personal thing. I really suggest you try it.

Lemon Puff Pancake with Fresh Berries

Or try this one that I think might be better.

Dutch Baby Recipe

As of 4/26/15, I have modified the recipe using both of the links I shared and so, play around with it. You want it to climb and not sink, like my image above.  So much goodness in such a simple thing.(I should add, I do gluten free, so even better)

Kate

Dear Romance – Writing 101 Day 14

Dear Romance,

You spend your days hiding amongst the pages of  trashy novels or delightful love stories. You are the hero in the white knight costume. You are the heroine rushing to save the hero. You are the candles in the dinner or the music on the front porch. You are light, you are dark, you are not around for me.

I read about you in all things and I see you as I look at films.  The sweet romance of two tree swallows. The burning desire of Darcy and Lizzy.  You are in all things.

But you run from me.  You have left me. I have not seen you in years. You don’t cross my path. You flirt and tease me with your presence, just lingering on the fringes of my life,  but you never deem to enter and present yourself.

I’m lost and alone without you. I am left trying to find you. Hunt you down. I write about you and I dream about you for my characters. I plot out how you will enter or disappear. But how do I write about you when you don’t exist in my life?  How do I create a nuance of little moments that come together into what makes you so desirable?

You are so wanted by all women. You are what makes romance novels sell. You suck us into your sweet fragrance of kisses and love. Of roses and pink. Of candlelight dinners and walks on the beach. Though I must say, that is not what I really think of as romantic. That is for others. For me, I want a swinging bench with a man. Or maybe a night to stargaze and dream. With said man.

To each woman, You mean something different.

But to me, you are not there.

 

Sincerely,

Lost and lonely

 

 

So for Writing 101’s  Day 14 assignment which is:

Today’s Prompt: Pick up the nearest book and flip to page 29. What’s the first word that jumps off the page? Use this word as your springboard for inspiration. If you need a boost, Google the word and see what images appear, and then go from there.

Today’s twist: write the post in the form of a letter.

 

I picked up Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell and the first word that hit me was ‘Romantic’. I chose to go with more romance than romantic and I wrote a letter.  I love epistolary stuff… I.E. letters, but this didn’t turn out quite as nice as I wanted. I need to come back and try it again, I think.

I’m still having issues sitting down and attempting any writing assignments, so followers will have to just take what i post. It’s a crazy time with the growing season and I’m still spending more time reading than writing.

 

Kate