When we were in Southern California, Cinco de Mayo was a big deal. Some people called it Mexico’s Fourth of July. Tom (husband) used to point out it was just an excuse to have a big party, since May 5th was only significant as a single battle won, and September 16 was the really significant date. Since September 16 was also his birthday, he might have had a vested interest in which day was more important!
Living out away from towns, sports bars, and community gatherings, these days are as quiet as any other. Which is good. This sort of celebration calls for nachos made with canned cheese (a particular weakness of mine!) so I’d best abstain. Although nachos made with Chicharrones are pretty darned good as well as low carb.
Today’s recipe is more of a “try this” tip. Green beans, kale, and okra are super yummy crunchy treats when roasted in olive oil, or when deep fried without batter. Seriously! I’ve tried chicken that way, not so much. But a light coating of beaten egg and crushed chicharrones is darned close to “real” fried chicken.
So, about that shameless self promotion I promised you. Okay, I promised myself I’d be doing some more promotion, how’s that? My next book, Teach Me To Forget, has a release date in one week. Yep, May 12 is the debut. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the point of view, I’ll be in Colorado lure coursing. That’s letting my ‘lukis chase plastic bags. Doesn’t sound like much until you’ve seen them run.
The book, Teach Me To Forget, is up on Black Opal Books for preorder now, and should be on Amazon sometime this next week. It’s not related to My Killer My Love in any obvious fashion, though one of the reviewers did point out I was writing about another wounded heroine and reserved hero. Hmmm, I guess that’s right, since I like to write about people overcoming adversity in some form. Years ago, someone pointed out (about a never to see the light of day book) “She’s gorgeous, and has her dream job. He’s handsome and rich. Who cares what happens to them.” The quote has been cleaned up for general distribution. Although the gorgeous woman/rich handsome man formula does work for a lot of readers, it just doesn’t come out of my head and through my fingers. Strange.
Prologue for Teach Me To Forget:
It was a storybook wedding. The elite of the world’s beautiful people crowded the groom’s yacht, cruising off the south French coast. The groom’s austere face was only slightly lined, the gray at his temples adding a distinguished air. His still trim body was clothed by the establishment which had enjoyed the patronage of every male in his family since his great-grandfather. Although he conversed urbanely with his guests, his possessive gaze never left his bride.
Framed in the lens of the ever-clicking camera, the bride had the lithe slenderness seen only in the very young and healthy. Delicate curves hinted at the woman she would one day become. Her short dark hair was gamine cut by the stylist who had created the look. Her make-up had been applied by the hands of the genius whose company had taken three generations of women from beautiful to gorgeous. Her lavish bouquet was of rare miniature white orchids, picked deep in the rain forests of South America and flown in for this ceremony. The lace for her veil had been created by devout hands in a convent which had produced lacework of this gossamer perfection for centuries.
The veil was secured by a pearl crown once belonging to a medieval princess. It framed a delicate, serious face dominated by enormous, hazy green eyes and a lush, slightly trembling mouth, and billowed down to hand made, four inch spike heels. By tradition the full length veil attested to the purity of the bride, leaving no doubt in the mind of anyone attending that day that this was, indeed, a virgin bride. The diaphanous covering enhanced her bridal outfit, personally designed by the hand of the dresser to royalty. Brilliant fire opals had been meticulously applied to the hand sewn, French cut white bikini.
One of my personal favorite lines: “I thought if I kept my mouth full of biscuits, there wouldn’t be room for my foot.”
And Lex Valentine did another fabulous trailer for me: