How Bits of Me Leak into my Heroines. Oh, and the best scone recipe ever. #am reading #recipe #romance

I love baking. Today I made scones and cinnamon buns which made me think of Ellie in To Mate a Werewolf.  She discovered Lykae have a sweet tooth and her cooking sweet treats won their hearts.  

She put a tray of oven-fresh almond tarts on a side table outside the door. “Okay, guys, these are too hot to eat yet. Anyone who helps set up the tables for tonight gets one when all the work’s done.”

Her bribery paid dividends as the unmated wolves worked with cheerful good humor. Joel inhaled the smell of tarts and tried to steal one. Ellie rapped him on the knuckles with her wooden spoon.

He shook his hand and pouted like a small boy denied a treat. “That hurt.”

Ellie smile dripped saccharine. “It was meant to. You can’t pull rank on me now, Mr. Former Grand Marshal.”

The way she emphasized that former chilled him. He was the same man, whatever rank he held. The light in her eyes said she enjoyed his discomfort, so he gave up on the tart. “Ellie, is it too late to apologize?”

She froze, then looked him up and down. When he took a step toward her, she dodged back inside. “Much too late. Nothing you can say will make up for the way you used me.”

Joel followed and held out his hand. “Listen, Ellie, whatever my parents said, you don’t have to do this. It’s my fault they’re angry, but let’s go see them together, and let me make things right.”

She stared at him as though he’d sprouted wings and flown around the room. “Last time I was alone with you, you couldn’t get away fast enough. I’m going nowhere with a louse like you. Go away. My cakes are better company than you.”

Then there’s Meena in Curse of the Fae King. She worries about her weight. 

Full from Meena’s cheese sandwich, the dragonet growled softly and turned away. Leonidas’s clenched jaw and raised eyebrow made Meena smirk again. His face was too harsh to be handsome—all angular planes and aquiline nose—but despite his atrocious manners, she didn’t want him to leave. Her cheeks heated when his green-eyed gaze swept over her, and again his lip curled. “You’re not human. You’re too slender in places and too curvy in others. What species are you?”

Too thin? Too curvy? Come on, jackass, make up your mind.

So much for the compliments—and did he just call her overweight? She wasn’t skinny, just sort of middling and normal, unless she gorged herself on chocolate. Okay, she watched her figure, but then what woman didn’t? Maybe she packed a few extra pounds, not that she’d admit it to this aren’t-I-just-perfect Fae.

One of the first things another of my heroines, Harriet, in Knights Vampire, says concerns her weight.

A wayward, feminine part of Harriet still obsessed over his lips. Her common sense shouted for her to get out of there, but sometimes being sensible sucked. “Maybe just a coffee, but no cake. A lifetime on the hips and all that.” 

He smiled, clearly taking her words as an invitation to study her curves. His scrutiny made her cheeks burn, and she knew she blushed again. Maybe I should give the low-fat diet another go. 

Then, as if he’d read her mind, he told her, “I think your hips are perfect.” 

We could all do with a man like that. 

I guess you’ve worked out that I watch my weight—badly. My thyroid broke a few years back, and I was the skinniest Lizzie out there. Apart from the palpitations and shaking hands, I felt sexy, sassy, and full of false confidence. A lot like Lindy in Giving it up for the Gods. Not that she had the shakes, but she did end up on the floor in a middle of a brawl.

Two biker boots--solid, black leather with thick soles and long laces--filled her gaze. She followed them upward, licking her lips as she stared at her rescuer’s muscular thighs. Injured arm cradled against her chest, she threw back her head to clear the hair from her face. She’d almost suffocated. Relief made her shaky, and it didn’t help that Tall, Dark, and Handsome towered over her, his expression half sympathetic, half fierce. 

Breathtaking male. Damn, but he’s even more stunning close up. 

Then the unfeeling jerk dragged her upright and dumped her behind the bar. “Stay there and be quiet.” 

Neptune’s balls, it hurt when he pulled her about like that, especially when that people pile had cracked her ribs and shattered her wrist. And who did he think he was, giving her orders? Sirens weren’t the shut-up-and-do-as-I-say type. Once she caught her breath, she’d hit that shrill note that would shatter the mermen’s eardrums; then she’d leave. 

Lindy’s rescuer dived back into the fight, clearly intending to keep the merwarriors at bay. Apparently deciding to deal with him first, a huddle of mermen swamped him like American footballers falling on a ball at the end of a play. 

A Siren’s lullaby rose up in Lindy’s throat, but she’d never be able to hold the long, low notes, not with broken ribs. Tall, Dark, and Domineering had saved her, and she owed him. Sirens weren’t known for their common sense, and broken bones notwithstanding, her personal code demanded she help him. 

Before she moved, Tall, Dark, and Deliciously Sexy threw off the mermen as though they weighed nothing. He hauled his surfer friend from the battle and towed him toward the bar. His intense gaze fastened on Lindy. 

Almost as threatened by him as she was by Neptune’s minions, she felt her heart hammer and pound. And where was Joe? Then she spotted him through the open door that led to the back room. He was talking on his cell phone. Probably ringing the police. Except for her driving license, she lacked the layers of ID that human society demanded. So that was her cue to leave.

Poor Lindy was desperate to get laid, but thankfully I’m not on her sort of deadline. That leaves Sylvie in Curse of the Fae king. 

To quote from the blurb, She’s more human librarian than half-blood Fae princess and she definitely prefers books to men.

Well. I’m definitely a book lover, so she’s got a bit of me in her too.

This week, Loose ID accepted the fourth book in Scattered Sibling’s series. Viola, the heroine in To Tame a Werewolf has a crippled knee.
Mine’s not too good either.
I broke it and spent six weeks with it in traction in my teens. For a while it was fine then arthritis set in. Last year, a clever surgeon scraped the inside of the joint, but it still hurts like hell. 
Poor Viola suffers much more than me since someone hit hers with a sledgehammer and left her crippled. 

If you want to learn more about any of my heroines, then click on the cover alongside my blog. 

Oh, and that scone recipe. It’s by Mary Berry, and when I asked my husband if they were okay, he made a “umph” noise, nodded, and reached for another. Praise indeed. 

Ingredients

•    250g/9oz self-raising flour

•    1 rounded tsp baking powder

•    40g/1½oz softened butter

•    25g/1oz caster sugar

•    1 large free-range egg

•    about 100ml/3½fl oz milk

Preparation method

1.    Preheat the oven to 220C/425F/Gas 7 (200C Fan).

2.    Put the flour and baking powder into a large bowl. Add the butter and rub it in with your fingertips until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Stir in the sugar.

3.    Beat the egg in a measuring jug. Make up to 100ml/3½fl oz with the milk, then set aside a tablespoon for glazing the scones later.

4.    Gradually add the egg and milk to the dry ingredients, stirring it in until you have a soft slightly sticky dough

5.    Turn the mixture out onto a lightly floured surface and pat out until it is about 2cm/¾in thick. Use a 4cm/1½in fluted cutter to stamp out the scones. Make sure you don’t twist the cutter or the scones will not rise evenly.

6.    Gently gather the trimmings together and pat out again to cut more scones

7.    Arrange the scones on the greased baking trays and brush the tops with the remaining milk.

8.    Bake for 8-10 minutes, or until well risen and golden-brown. Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

9.    To serve, cut each scone in half and top with strawberry jam and clotted or whipped cream.