xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Kryssie Fortune: 2014

Monday, 29 December 2014

The Knight Templar and Me

Thanks to the Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown and the Knights Templar are almost synonymous. So who were the Templars? And what have they got to do with me?
A quick glance at the history books tells me the Templars were a political powerhouse back in the 12th century. Formed to escort pilgrims to Jerusalem after its capture in the first crusade, they probably started the international banking system.  
I’m not sure if that’s a plus or a minus, but it certainly affects me.

Apparently pilgrims could pay money in at the start of their trip and withdraw it once they reached their destination. Maybe rich nobles used the Templars to carry mail the way early Americans used the pony express.

That’s all very high faluting and historical, but I needed something closer to home. Time for me to declare an interest.
I love Temple Newsam House in Leeds. The name’s a bit of a clue.
Back in the day, Templars lived in a preceptory. That’s a combination of a monastery and farmstead where the knights came to hone their fighting skills and pray. Rich nobles would give them the land. Around 10 centuries ago, Henry Lacy gave the land around Colton to the Templars for “the salvation of my soul.”
Even the street names suggest the Templar’s presence. We have Templegate Drive, Temple Row, and even Temple Moor High School. Being a tenant of the Templars came with perks. Everyone except you had to pay to have their corn ground in the King’s Mills. To mark their tenants as exempt, the Templars marked their buildings with a cross.
You can still see this one on the outside wall of the Pack Horse Pub in the town center. (The pub was established as early as 1130 and the cross is one of only two in the country surviving in situ.)

Enough of the facts and figures, and back to Temple Newsam. Leeds City Council own the estate and Tudor-Jacobean mansion that sits there now. 
Every historic mansion has its ghost, but Temple Newsam has more than most. The blue lady is the best known here, having a room named after her. Other entities reportedly include a monk in brown robes, a Knight Templar, a small boy who climbs from out a cupboard, and a nondescript misty form. Screams have been heard from the South Wing, as have the sounds of something or someone heavy being dragged across the floor.
I’m glad the Knight Templar made it in there.
There are 1500 acres of ground and parkland landscaped by Capability Brown. They're famous for the rhododendron walk.

The stone wall in the photograph is known as a Ha-ha. It acted as a fence to keep cattle off the gardens without spoiling the view. If you fell down it, then people went Ha-ha.
The original preceptory stood to the south, near the river Aire. Now a Tudor Mansion sits atop the hill and enjoys an excellent view of the countryside. It houses artwork, Chippendale furniture, a collection of silver, and prime examples  of Leeds Pottery.
There are knot gardens and fountains, along with the National Plant Collections of Delphinium, Phlox and Astor Novi-belgii.

There’s also a working farm with rare breeds. I wonder if they farm the same animals the Templars did 10 centuries ago?
There’s even a temple, but it was added by Capability Brown. Leeds City Council plans to restore it to its proper grandeur in the new year.

For history buffs, the estate has another claim to fame. Lord Darnley, loose living husband of Mary Queen of Scots was born there.
I love to wander the grounds or feed the ducks on the lake. I’m lucky to have so much history on my doorstep.
And why the interest in the Knights Templar?
That one’s easy—and really personal. 
My next book, Knight’s Vampire comes out on 20th January 2015, and he was once a Knight Defender. (An organization I invented and based loosely on the Templars)

Tuesday, 23 December 2014


Here's a chunk of the first chapter of TO MATE A WEREWOLF 


Who’d have thought that deep rumbling noise Joel made could be so sexy? When he caged Ellie with his body, her nipples ached, and liquid honey filled her cunt. Her legs trembled, and her pussy throbbed with sensual need. Shyly, she looped her arms around his neck and glanced around the cliff top. Whitby Abbey towered over them, and waves lapped at the harbor below. The town was just coming to life, and no tourists had ventured up there yet. Glad they were alone, she stepped still closer, and let Joel’s body warm her. 

Two years back, when the Elves still imprisoned her, they’d have punished her for seeking even a temporary comfort. Today Joel held her as if she was precious and perfect. His cologne reminded her of fresh mountain streams or hoarfrost shimmering in dawn’s first light. His hair felt soft and silky as she twirled the ends around her fingers. 

Joel growled again. The sound vibrated through her body, sending shock waves of pleasure exploding through her. She’d never felt so alive or so eager as when his lips brushed her ear. Every touch of his hand, even the way his breath tickled as it flowed over her neck, was a new delight for her to savor. 

For someone who’d been abused in terrible ways, her body thrummed with carnal desires. The heat Joel sparked inside her shattered the barriers she’d erected to block out her six months of sexual slavery. Two years of easy acceptance from Joel’s squadron of Lykae soldiers had helped rebuild her confidence. 

She’d loved Joel from the start. He’d led the rescue party that freed her from sexual slavery and held her while the drugs the Elves had tipped down her throat had worn off. After the sex-potions wore off and Ellie was safe, he’d kept his distance. 

Now, he wanted her as much as she wanted him, if the way his cock bulged beneath his pants was anything to go by. They didn’t have a future, but this interlude with Joel—and it could never be more—would finally put her past behind her. 

This one-sided-love thing sucked. She’d dreamed of so much more, but maybe just once she could have meaningless sex with Joel. Afterward she’d still need to move on. 

Other Lykae males had tried to date her, but her stupid heart demanded she save herself for Joel. If only he didn’t have eyes of the same clear blue as the turquoise beads in his hair, maybe she wouldn’t have hurt so badly. Add in his sculpted cheekbones and dirty blond hair that was striped with a dozen different shades of brown, and she was lost.Damn, he’s as handsome as he is…lickable. 

Today she set out to reclaim the life she’d lived before she knew about Elves and Lykae, but moving on hurt. This morning she’d fled the otherworld, but leaving Joel behind had etched cracks in her heart. They ran deeper than the scars Broken Nose had carved in her cheek. 

Not that Joel ever wanted her before today. 

Ellie leaned into him and wrapped one leg around his calf. Her lips parted, and he moved closer, a fraction of an inch at a time, giving her the chance to turn away and refuse him. Not that she would. She’d dreamed of his lips on hers or his hands on her breasts, and today her secret fantasies were coming true. 

Determined not to let the moment pass, she went up on tiptoe and buried her hands in his hair. He moved closer until his lips hovered over hers. 

“Don’t stop,” she begged. 

He took control, dominating her, demanding everything—and she gave it willingly. His lips were firm against hers, possessive and masterful. His kiss sent shivers of excitement down her spine. When his tongue tangled with hers, she ran her soft, military-style trainer up and down his calf. With a soft sigh, she arched her back and thrust her breasts forward in invitation. 

Joel groaned and kissed his way down her neck. She breathed in quick, sharp gasps. Again Ellie curled her fingers in his hair, tugging gently. 

He slid his hands under her T-shirt and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. She moaned as if he’d hotwired her sex drive. Maybe he had, but she wasn’t complaining. He stared into her eyes, patient, giving her chance to deny him. Instead, she nodded slightly, then shuddered with delight as he trailed his fingers around her midriff. And there went her bra. She hadn’t even realized he’d unfastened it, and now it lay at her feet along with the regulation black-and-turquoise T-shirt she didn’t remember shedding. 

She felt vulnerable, making out on the cliff, breasts bared, but these moments with Joel were precious—memories that would sustain her as she rebuilt her life. His warriors’ hands felt rough against her soft skin. She loved the new sensations he woke inside her. Heat rolled through her, simmering and warming her blood. 

With Joel, she’d learn how sex should be. She’d forget the way the Elves had forced her to perform sex acts for their pleasure, and move on. She wanted that more than anything. If only Joel would stop moving in slow motion. He was clearly willing to stop if his touch brought back too many bad memories, and she loved him all the more for it. But…Damn it. He’s killing me with kindness. 

Ellie wanted a fierce loving she’d remember all her life. Instead he gave her a leisurely seduction that drove her crazy. She shivered when he tongued her left nipple. He stroked and caressed the other between his finger and thumb. His touch fired her up, made her blaze with sensual hunger. She’d never needed anyone this way. Even without the Elves’ nymphomaniac potions, her body burned for Joel. 

Here on Whitby cliff top, he carried her into a world of sensation and animalistic pleasure. If she’d been a Lykae, she’d have howled with delight. Her nipples peaked, and the damp heat spread through her cunt. 

Ecstasy, this stolen liaison with Joel Blackheart was pure ecstasy. Addictive too. The taste of his lips and the hard planes of her body as he pressed against her gave her a tantalizing glimpse of things she could never fully possess. 

It didn’t matter that their love all flowed from her to him. She needed him to show her how great sex could be. With Joel, she could replace all her bad memories with something honest and good. When her hand brushed against his cock, it pulsed. For a moment she hesitated, then closed her hand around it. Big. So big. Lykae are definitely better hung than Elves. 

“More,” she whispered. “I need more.” 

Joel looked around, checking their surroundings. 

Doesn’t he want to be seen with me? No one else ventured up to Whitby Abbey at this time of year. It was still early by Lykae military standards, and by their standards, it was almost time for a midmorning snack. I wish he’d snack on me. 

He gathered her in his arms and leaped the high barrier enclosing the abbey grounds. Somehow she managed to scoop up her clothes. She had to leave her kit bag, but there was no one here to rifle through it. Then she relaxed and enjoyed being in the arms of the man she loved. Despite the way she nestled against his chest, he landed with feral grace. Ellie grinned, glad he’d found somewhere private. 

She was going to have sex—not the soul-shaming, force-you kind. This would be sex tinged with respect and kindness, something she’d never experienced before. Deep down she longed for soul-shattering sex, the sort that melded two people into one, but it couldn’t be. Not when he didn’t love her. 

She’d always been able to pretend things were the way she wanted, not the way they were. For now, she’d pretend they were together forever, and accept anything Joel offered. Mated? Me and a Lykae alpha. So not happening but… 

“Dreaming,” her mother had called it between mouthfuls of gin. 

Joel sniffed the air, tilted his head, and listened. Seagulls screeched, and way at the bottom of the cliff, fishermen joked as they landed their catch. Ellie could barely hear them, but she’d lay odds Joel could distinguish every word. Once he decided the area was secure, he laid her on a mossy bank. She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as his hungry gaze swept over her. 

Come on, Joel. Fuck me, please. 

She lay, leg bent at the knee, hair mussed, and lips swollen from his kiss. Her nipples beaded as Joel’s tongue made slow, sensual strokes against hers. Everything inside her cried out for him to lick her breasts, or better still, her pussy. 

He stared at her the way a starving gourmet would salivate over his best ever feast. She’d kill to have him look at her that way every day. 

See? Dreaming again. 

Joel rolled each of her nipples in turn between his thumb and forefinger. Nothing had ever felt this good, or left her so desperate for more. She squirmed beneath him, her panties already damp with her desire. 

He lowered his head to her breasts, and between long, leisurely licks that made her thighs quiver, he asked, “Are you sure about this? I’ll stop if you want.” 

“Want you inside me.” She panted and unfastened her waistband. When she lifted her hips, he pulled her Lykae military-issue trousers over her thighs. Somehow her panties came with them. Tricksy, adorable wolf. Her hand shook as she fumbled at the leather thong holding up his pants. 

Joel grinned, pulled off his military shirt, and kicked off his pants. Once they were both naked, he bent closer and took possession of her lips. Their kiss was endless, their passion igniting. 

Sweet sensation consumed her. Her pussy throbbed in anticipation, and her throat dried. Her fingers curled until her nails dug into her palms. Nervous but excited, she relaxed her hand and reached for his cock. It felt hot and hard, and her fingers didn’t quite close around it. 

He growled and thrust into her fist. 

Her feelings consumed her. This ardor was too much, her need too great. She took quick, shallow breaths as she stared at his high cheekbones and kissable lips. When she looked into his eyes, she thought she’d drown. 

Copyright © Kryssie Fortune

Friday, 19 December 2014

The Winter Solstice - Customs and Beliefs

The Day the sun stands still – that’s one encyclopaedia’s definition of the Solstice. On the 21st December there are a few hours of daylight then the longest night of the year begins.
The Winter Solstice is time of new beginnings and regeneration. As the days shortened, ancient men worried. What if the sun faded away entirely? They would live in permanent night with no warmth or light. There would be no spring planting. They would starve and die.  
Huge monuments were built, dedicated to tracking sunrise and sunset. Stonehenge is perhaps the most famous calendar ever built. Once the sun rose between its huge trilithons, everyone knew a corner had been turned. Spring would come again.

Different countries celebrate the Winter Solstice in different ways. The ancient Romans called their festival Saturnalia. Slaves and masters traded places and all punishment was suspended. Held in the dark time between autumn harvest and spring planting, it honoured Saturn – the God of Agriculture and Fertility. It was a time of feasting and dancing. Friends and family gathered. Fires were lit - sacred flames that symbolised the start of a new solar year.

Ancient Egyptians worshipped Osiris, God of Death, Life and Fertility. He died on the shortest, darkest day of the year then was instantly reincarnated. The Priests exhibited a newly born baby as proof of this annual miracle.

The Ancient Greeks named their solstice celebration Lenaei or the Feast of the Wild Women. The women tore a representation of the Harvest God Dionysus to pieces.
Much to their menfolk’s relief they actually sacrificed a goat, feasting on its flesh as part of their mid-winter rituals. Since the solstice is a time of new beginnings, the God was instantly reborn as a human baby.
For three days the sun seems to stand still on the horizon, rising and setting in the same places. The last of these days, the 23rd December was know as Artemis’ birthday. She was Greek Goddess of Fertility, often linked with the moon, and twin sister of Apollo the Sun God.

All midwinter festivals are connected to fertility, renewal and light. If the Gods were appeased then spring would come. It’s a time when people’s spirits are at their lowest, when there a primeval need to party. 
The Persian Sun God, Mithras, was different. He too was born at the Winter Solstice and, 3,000 years ago, the world celebrated.

His worship linked men to the heavens. Mithras had twelve disciples and his symbol was a lamb. His worship was mysterious, passed only by word of mouth.
The Roman legions adopted Mithras. His feast day was incorporated into Saturnalia. The solstice celebration became the Feast of the Unconquered Sun or Sol Invicta.
Pagans call the Winter Solstice Yule and celebrate it instead of Christmas. Some linguists think the name stems from the Vikings. They saw the sun as a huge wheel, revolving as the year progressed. The Norse term for wheel is hjol. Over the years the term has become anglicised to Yule. 
Perhaps the Norse Feast of the Dead gives Yule its name. It was held to honour of Odin, the most powerful of the Norse Gods.
  He presided over the Jol or Jule – the specially brewed Christmas ales. Again the words may have been corrupted to Yule. Odin is also the God of Drink and Pleasure. The feast became an excuse for a wild party.   
The Yule log has pagan origins. A huge piece of wood is found or given - never cut. The log is decorated with greenery, doused with cider or ale, dusted with flour and then burnt. The evergreens represent eternal life whilst the flames are symbolic of light banishing the winter darkness.
Few homes have hearths large enough to house Yule logs today. Instead a small piece of wood is drilled to take three candles before being decorated with greenery and dusted with flour. The candles burn throughout the holiday season, symbolising the return of the Sun God.
The wood of the Yule log imparts it’s own, unique characteristics when burnt. Ash brings peace, health and wealth into the home. Aspen reveals universal truths and deep secrets. Birch symbolises new beginnings whilst wood from the Holly tree brings visions to mystics. Oak is linked with healing and prosperity and Pine is for wealth and growth.
The greenery decorating the Yule log is full of ancient symbols. The Roman’s believed their God Saturn created Holly. They made wreaths from it during their Winter Solstice celebrations. 

Fearful of persecution, early Christians continued the tradition. Now holly wreaths are linked inexorably with Christmas. Their sharp leaves symbolise Jesus’ crown of thorns and their red berries his blood.
Ivy has links with both Bacchus, the Roman God of Drunkenness, and Dionysus. Wine Gods are always associated with drunken revels. That’s why ale-houses used to hang a bunch of ivy outside their door. It was probably the world’s first pub sign.
Medieval Christians were fascinated by the way ivy entwined itself around trees, thriving even when the tree was dead. They compared its tenacity to the strength of God’s love.
Mistletoe grew on sacred Oaks. Druids believed it kept evil spirits away. It keeps its colour even when the tree’s leaves fade and die. The Druids associated it with eternal life.  
The custom of kissing under the mistletoe started in the middle ages. Kisses were exchanged, even between men, to show peaceful intentions.
The Christmas tree is central to our Mid Winter Celebrations. Ancient Germanic people used to bring a tree into their house over winter to appease the wood spirits. They hung small parcels food on its branches. Some topped it with a five pointed star or pentagram.
The sixteenth century priest, Martin Luther, noticed the beauty of the winter forest. The sunlight shimmering on icicle-covered branches entranced him.
Seeing this beauty as a gift from God, he adopted the Pagan custom of tree decorating. After moving a conifer into his church, he fastened candles on its branches. That’s how the Christmas tree was born.
The Romans linked Christmas with the Solstice celebrations. They adopted Gods from other lands, merging them with their own. Thanks to them Christmas was celebrated on the same date as their Feast the Unconquered Sun. Now it falls just days away from the Winter Solstice.
And what about old Father Time? Pagans believe Yule is the birth of the Sun God. He matures as the year progresses and dies when it ends. He is reborn with the coming of a new solar year.

Beliefs may have changed, but we still see out the year with the grey-haired, stooped Old Father Time. We party the old year out but our hopes are not much different to our ancestors. We make resolutions and plan a better future. The New Year is our time of new beginnings.

On a more personal note, Saturn - of Saturnalia fame - is a major charactor in my book Giving it up for the Gods, and Mithras makes plays a vital part in my current work in progress. 

Saturday, 13 December 2014

Princess of the Light’s Sweet Treats for the Holidays: Lighter than Clouds Sugar Cookies

 Ellie, the heroine of To Mate a Werewolf discovered werewolves love cake even more than she loves to bake.

Today N.N. Light has popped int to tell everyone about one of the recipes that Mary, the heroine from Princess of Light enjoys making. 
And I will be testing out these cookies later. 

Over to N. N. LIght.

The holiday season is here and in between battling demons like Than and running a bookstore, Mary’s schedule is full. She doesn’t have much time to bake so she uses short cuts when she can. One of her favorite recipes is directly from her great-grandmother. She frosts them with her favorite buttercream frosting and decorates them with red and green sprinkles. Even the demons can’t resist trying one.
Ingredients:½  cup soft shortening½ cup soft butter1 ½ cups granulated sugar2 eggs1 teaspoon dark vanilla extract2 ¾ cups sifted all-purpose flour2 teaspoons cream of tartar1 teaspoon baking soda¼ teaspoon saltDirections:Heat oven to 400 F. Mix shortening, butter, sugar, eggs and vanilla extract in a bowl. Sift remaining ingredients together and stir until combined.Roll into balls the size of small walnuts. Place two inches apart on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake eight to ten minutes or until lightly browned but still soft. The cookies will puff up at first and then flatten out as they cool. Cool completely and then decorate.Makes 5 dozen

Archangel Gabriel gives these cookies a two wing salute and has been known to sneak some off to Heaven. J

Find out more about Princess of the Light below...

Title: Princess of the LightAuthor: N. N. Light
Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
Release Date: September 2, 2014

Blurb:Gabriel, the Archangel and Messenger of God - yeah that Gabriel, visited Mary Miller. He told her, as the key she is destined to spread the Light and vanquish the Darkness. Her first assignment is to restore the soul of the Walking Man. Sounds simple enough until she’s thrown in the face of evil, and then Joe Deacons enters her heart. This battle just got a lot more complicated. She must complete her mission without losing all she loves.
Book Cover Graphic Artist Credit:
Illustration : streamy digitalModel : VictoriaAndreaPhoto : shutterstock/depositphoto
I watched as Joe drove away and knew I was going to be smiling for weeks. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my skin glowing. What on earth? Gasping and looking around, I wondered if anyone else could see the purplish glow. "Princess?" Gabriel's voice echoed in my head. When I turned around and saw Gabriel behind me, I smiled. "I'm glowing," I exclaimed happily, then asked, "Is that normal? Can others see my glow?" I added in a whisper. "Princess, you'll find that people will see you in many different ways. Most will be drawn to you—not knowing why—and you'll help them see the Light." I nodded in understanding. Then it dawned on me that Gabriel was wearing clothes—a plain, grey hoodie and blue jeans. Where was his heavenly attire and wings? Gabriel chuckled. "I can appear human when the moment arises." Wait. He can read my thoughts?
 I wondered what else he'd heard. So, he could appear however he wished and he could read my thoughts... Great.
 I know this is coming at you fast, but please don't be afraid. You'll quickly adjust, and soon you won't even think about it. I heard Gabriel's words in my head, but his mouth remained in a kind smile.
 "You met André earlier." Gabriel said, aloud this time, getting right to the point. I nodded. "Yes." "André's story is a sad one. Let this be your first task as the Princess of the Light: Help André." "How can I help?" He seemed to shun people and any contact whatsoever. "You will, because it's His will. Do you doubt?" Gabriel paused. "I will be near you at all times," he reassured me. I shook my head. "I don't doubt. It's just... I don't know how I can help." Truthfully, there was more to it than even that. What if I failed? What if I couldn't help André because of my own short comings? I sighed. Gabriel looked at me and simply smiled. "Remember you carry the Light. It is in you to do. But first you have to believe. Do you?" He was asking the faith question. I certainly believed in the Lord and His magnificent power. "Yes," I said. "I have faith and I trust in God. With you as my guide and the Lord leading me, I can do it." Now, if only I believed that last part.
 "Concentrate on the Light within you and imagine your Light is easing his pain," he said. Gabriel then turned me back toward to the sidewalk and pointed down a little ways. I guess we weren't going to have a discussion first. We were just going to get started. About five hundred yards away, the Walking Man—André, I corrected myself—was on the sidewalk. He appeared to be talking to himself. What should I do? Gabriel's voice echoed back in my head, The Light in you can heal. It can take away darkness. It reveals Truth. Truth cannot be destroyed. Your enemy may twist it, hide it under a blanket of darkness, and even laugh at it. But he cannot destroy it.
 I nodded, trying to create a mantra in my head: I'm the Princess of the Light. I'm the Carrier of the Light, and Light reveals Truth. I can do this. I concentrated hard on the Walking Man, lifted my arm and prayed, Let the Light enter André and ease his suffering.
 Suddenly, what looked like purple lightning bolts shot out of my palm and seemed to enter his chest. Whoa, what was that?
 I spun around to ask Gabriel, but he was gone. Something laughed. André stood staring at me with nearly tangible intensity. Had he heard the laugh, too? He didn't even seem aware of the sparks of purple light, let alone the darkness that was trying to envelop him. Buy Links:Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/469480

Newsletter:Sign up for my Princess of the Light newsletter to get FREE exclusive content on all things book and writing related: http://ymlp.com/xghjsueygmgh Author Bio:N. N. Light was born in Minnesota, lived in Southern California only to move to chilly Ontario, Canada to marry her beloved husband MR N. She is blissfully happy and loves all things chocolate, books, music, movies, art, sports and baking. Most of the time you can find her on Twitter or getting new ideas on how to spread the Light on Pinterest.Part of the proceeds of Princess of the Light will go directly to food banks in order to feed the hungry and help those in need. With only 7,500 books sold, N. N. Light will be able to set up a monthly endowment for the local food bank.I’d love to connect with you either via email or via these various social media sites:

Thank you, Kryssie, for having me on your blog for this fun blog swap. J 

Saturday, 6 December 2014

Keep calm and Feed the Werewolf

I'm visited quite a few blogs recently, and shared some of recipes Ellie, heroine of To Mate A Werewolf, told me were favorites in Lykae mess.

Here's where I've been, and a chance to catch up.

Happy Baking

I kicked off with a recipe for New York Cheesecake - the one that Ellie, the heroine in To Mate a Werewolf, used to give the new cook a cheesecake facial. He definitely deserved it, but that girl has some guts, standing up to werewolf like that.

J. J. Dibenedetto writes about a woman who shares dreams. I wonder if she dreamed of making a party cake after reading this. Ellie made this for soldiers birthdays. It's a Lykae favorite.


N. N. Light shared one of Ellie's concern. Do werewolves eat enough fruit? Well, Ellie - the heroine in  - To Mate a Werewolf - found a way to hide apples in this delicious French Apple Cake.

Claire Dargin, shared another party cake recipe. Perfect for offering guests at Christmas. When one of her friends in the Tundra Toughs Pack engaged, they begged Ellie to bake it for the party.


On the 26th November, P. J.Layne offered everyone a slice of my husbands favorite Coffee and walnut cake. Werewolves and coffee don't usually mix. The caffeine drives them a little crazy, but they love the taste of this.


M M Jaye told everyone about my favourite cupcake recipe made with almonds and topped with lemon frosting. This one's another homebake that my family love.


Lindi Lamont shared about cheesecake - my heroine's weapon of choice. Yes. Really. I'm guessing the moral here is if you don't like her scars, then your mouth shut.


Suz de Mello offered everyone my homemade Victoria Sponge  - This is another of my family's favorites, and it took the prize at our allotment's show.


Jane Leopald Quinn stepped up and shared Ellie's recipe for White chocolate cake. This is a rare treat for werewolves, but one they constantly beg Ellie to bake.


Iris Blobel hosted my Christmas cake. I actually baked this one, bit the amazing decoration is down to my husband. Damn, but he's almost as good as Ellie. 


Nona Raines shared a tower of cupcakes, metaphysically at least. They all looked delicious. It wouldn't last long in the Lykae Mess.


So many cakes and recipes, but when you come down to it, Ellie was just looking for the recipe for love.
Did she find it?
Check this out and find out.

Buy Links
Amazon AU        http://bit.ly/159aunB
Social Media

A huge thank you to www.facebook.com/foodcakesblogger for letting me use their recipes and pictures as well as my own.

@kryssie forune, @LyndiLamont  @Nona Raines@_Iris_B ,@jelquinnauthor 

Saturday, 29 November 2014

Naughty or Nice? Put me down for the Naughty list

Please welcome Suz DeMello, one of the authors who've brought us the Naughty List

Today, December 1, is the day that the Naughty Literati publish their--our--first anthology. Who are the Naughty Literati, you ask? We are a group of steamy romance writers who have banded together to produce excellent stories, stories so hot, so cool, so unique, so special that they deserve special treatment. We plan to give the world--the romance reading world, that is--four anthologies annually--more or less.

Naughty List, our first boxed set, of course has a winter holiday theme, but this is far from your usual vapid fare about kissing under the mistletoe and random sex at office Christmas parties. No--we have stories from the steamiest erotica to the most heart-warming happily ever after. We have medievals and futuristics, ménages and committed couples rediscovering love. You want romance? You want hot sex? We have it all.

And, of course, we also have holiday food. 
Kryssie has asked me to write about food, glorious food. And why not? Our winter memories often focus on food, from Halloween candy through the Thanksgiving feast to candy canes at Christmas to Champagne at New Year’s, and hot chocolate anytime.

In Viking in Tartan, my medieval tale of a vampire and clanswoman finding love--and each other--little Clan Kilbirnie celebrates a Yuletide wedding with what were traditional Scottish goodies: roasted lamb with a sauce made of berries and rosemary along with wheat boiled in broth and some haggis. Roasted rabbit and fish from the chilly ponds rounded out the meal, with both a sweet and a savory custard ending all.

Here’s the excerpt:

And that eve, Da joined them, reciting the solemn but joyous words that would bind her to her Viking warrior forever. She glanced around. Their Great Hall wasna so great, but on this afternoon the servants had outdone themselves. They’d cleared away the remains of the previous night’s revelry and decorated every table, mantel and window ledge with fresh evergreen and holly boughs. Their fragrance and bright berries lent a festive atmosphere to the ceremony. Pale moonlight struggled through the few arrow slits uncovered by tapestries.

A fire crackled and glowed, fed by the great Yule log that smoldered in the hearth. She was relieved to notice that because the storm wind had died down, the chimney didna smoke—for they were standing in front of the hearth for the short ceremony.

Clearly aware of the event’s importance, Erland had cleaned his boots, combed his long hair and shaved with a borrowed razor. He had found the largest plaid available and, with her brother’s help, had pleated it into a kilt and wore it belted atop immaculate linen borrowed from her da. The shirt almost fit, Da having gained more than a little weight as he’d aged.

Everyone had washed and was clad in their best. She’d done her part, choosing her finest cyrtel for the event. ’Twas fashioned of a soft red wool that looked especially well with her dark hair and eyes.

Erland looked down, caught her glance and smiled gently, in keeping with the solemnity of the occasion. She smiled back, her heart warmed, her pride swelling. Her man was an unexpected treasure. He’d already shown he could defend as well as love her. And he’d managed to get on with Da and Keith, despite his Viking heritage.

What would their bairns be like? Though she was still a mite sore, she could scarce wait to have Erland again and begin their new life.

How everything had changed in less than a day! She found it hard to remember she’d been willing to die rather than be joined to a man she detested. Indeed, she had promised herself she’d never wed, would never allow herself to be used as a pawn in her da’s schemes.

And she hadna. Fate had chosen her man. But how she had fallen so swiftly for Erland?

She wrenched her mind away from her stray, tumbling thoughts when Da wrapped a swatch of Kilbirnie plaid around their crossed wrists, joining them.

They kissed but briefly, with Rhona mindful of her da and brother watching.

The onlookers’ cheers bounced off the hall’s stone walls before everyone broke ranks to hug her and Erland. He looked a bit startled before he accepted the clan’s embrace.

She hoped that amity would continue. Scots and Vikings were fierce enemies, due to the Northmen’s frequent raids. Though the Kilbirnie clan was small and their lands lay in the south and west of Scotland—farther away from Scandinavia—they nevertheless lived in fear of the raiders. The Vikings dominated the islands to the west and north and were a force to be reckoned with.

She shunted all that aside to enjoy her wedding feast. Da had ordered a young sheep, one of the lambs born the previous spring, slaughtered so they ate it roasted with a sauce made of berries and rosemary along with wheat boiled in broth and some haggis. Roasted rabbit and fish from the chilly ponds rounded out the meal, with both a sweet and a savory custard ending all. Everyone noisily crowded around the tables to share the bounty.

Buy the boxed set here:

Here’s a recipe for the custard that Clan Kilbirnie may have eaten that long-ago Yule:

5 eggs
1/2 c honey
2 c fresh milk
1 tsp finely ground sea salt
Ground cinnamon and nutmeg to taste

Mix the ingredients together and bake until firm. In the 13th century, Clan Kilbirnie would not have had ovens, not even a primitive one. So the cauldron containing the custard would have been placed on the kitchen hearth for the baking.

source: http://cookeatshare.com/recipes/honey-custard-524

About Suz deMello:

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written seventeen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s held the positions of managing editor and senior editor, working for such firms as Totally Bound and Ai Press. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.


A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

--Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

--For editing services, email her at suzdemello@gmail.com
--Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/suzdemello
--She tweets @Suzdemello
--Her current blog is http://www.TheVelvetLair.com


Win a Kindle Paperwhite loaded with books