Chicken Pizza Crust? Really? Yup. #MFRWAuthor

Seriously, a pizza crust made from chicken and cheese. Period. Is it good? Well, yes. Is it as good as a premier high gluten yeast crust smothered in olive oil?

Well, no. Nothing I’ve found so far is that good. But this really is pretty darned good and it is MUCH easier.Not to mention friendlier in the carb department. When I first heard this idea, I looked around for recipes, most of which seemed to require raw chicken. Since I’d been to Costco, I used canned chicken, the chunked kind, and grated Mozzarella cheese. Big cans, let’s see 12.5 ounces. Here’s the basic recipe, from Southern Yankee

Ingredients:

1 Pound of Ground Chicken

1/4 Cup Parmesan Cheese

1/4 Cup Shredded Mozzarella Cheese

1/4 Teaspoon Black Pepper

1 Teaspoon Italian Seasoning Blend (or just a bit of Oregano and Basil)

You mix all this together, spread it out, cook. Then add your toppings. Go crazy here!

How did I change this? You know me too well. I mostly added more cheese,  plus using the cooked chicken since ground raw chicken is not only difficult to find here, it’s also kind of yucky. I’ve found if I use extra olive oil I can almost fool myself into thinking ‘real’ pizza.

Let’s face it, seriously. We each have to make our own decisions on what adjustments we want to make with our lives once we have set ourselves onto the path of less carbohydrates. For me, this is a really good VERY easy pizza crust which makes me happy. It looks like this before you add toppings:Chicken CrustPretty much pizza-ish. It keeps well in the fridge so I can have breakfast pizza.

You haven’t had pizza for breakfast? Seriously?

Hmmm.

We can still be friends. I guess.

Of course we can.

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It Really is TOO HOT #MFRWAuthor

Overall, weather in my part of New Mexico is acceptable to fabulous. Generally we might have a week of too hot. No better way to say this than with music. But which one is better? I’ll let you decide:

There’s this one…

OMG the energy…that’s enough to exhaust me, just watching. I had to watch that footwork over and over.

And this one, from a revival of Kiss Me Kate…the first clip I found was from the Tony awards. This one is longer and even more exhausting!

I can’t choose, but I know for sure it’s too hot to do much but watch right now. I’m off to coach conformation handling in a while, but the facility is air conditioned. Phew! When I get back I’ll be working on A Question of Trust. Somehow I decided my hero was going to be kidnapped dropped in the desert. I wonder where that idea came from?

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We’ve Got to Be Taught #MFRWAuthor

 

I remember this song from the first time I saw South Pacific. My memory brings up the singer as a woman. My search kept bringing up male singers. Such as this, from Broadway:

Then I found this poignant rendition, by Mandy Patinkin, and I was…charmed? Yes, charmed, through my tears. My earlier memories led me to believe understanding the origins of prejudice would eliminate it. How naive I was.

Is prejudice taught? Is it ingrained in all of us? We who study family lines, either human or animal, know there is a balance between nature (inheritance) and nurture (environment). A delicate balance, all too easily tipped. What tips the balance? What combination of fear and anger and some other nebulous excuse causes such violent outbreaks?

I don’t know, all I can do is ignore any feelings of prejudice, and try hard to be kind.

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Is Being a “Good” Girl Hurting Your Career? Why “Bad” Girls Become Best-Sellers

Looks like it’s time to GET BAD

Kristen Lamb's Blog

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Today is a repost because of a death in the family last week. But you know what? Life moves on.  I chose this post because we all need a good kick in the ass now and again, even ME.

It was a FUN post and a good way to get my moxie back….because seriously my moxie got kicked in the face last week. I am sure NONE of you have been there. Feeling like a failure, like nothing you do matters?

Well, get over it. We are going to have a hell raising Monday!

Last fall I read Kate White’s I Shouldn’t Be Telling You This: Success Secrets Every Gutsy Girl Should Know. There are bad books, okay books, good books and great books. But there is another kind of book and it’s the rarest.

The game-changer.

White has a witty, sassy style. She is seamlessly intelligent and down-to-earth in…

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Back to Story Ideas #MFRWAuthor

In the past I’ve mentioned the inspiration behind My Killer My Love (my war with snails in a Southern California garden.) Teach Me To Forget evolved from sleeping with my husband in the overhead of a motor home while rain pattered on the roof. This particular motor home was a rental, which led eventually to purchasing our own. But that’s another, ongoing story!

A Question of Honor blended many threads, including my concern for war veterans who 51901WEC-WL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_aren’t quite ready to move back into society and all too often are not given the life skills to make that happen easily. As well as my love for New Mexico, long before I moved here. But the initial story line of a woman who left her husband, taking his truck, trailer, and horse, came about because of…you guessed it…a dog. I actually moved across the country to find this dog, and when we finally met, he’d been the loser in a divorce. Eventually the dog came to live with me for the last six years of his life…winner on all fronts.

I asked myself: what if it was a horse, and not a dog? What if the woman in question, Lana, disappears with the horse, then calls her sister, Sydney Castleton, to help? Sydney takes over the horse (Mosby)’s care until Devin Starke flies in to help her return Mosby to his partner, Ty Randolph. In this book Lana was kind of a footnote. Maybe a bit of window dressing. Certainly not a fully realized character in her own right. Until I came to the end of the story, and I began to ask myself: Why? Why would someone who married Ty Randolph (a highly intelligent person) do something so…detestable? Lana is mentioned during the suspense resolution, but the question stayed with me.

A Question of Faith touches on this conundrum while bringing together Ty Randolph and Rosalind Summerton, who has her own mysteries to solve. Into the middle of the book walks a wounded veteran, obviously in need of his own story, and more of Lana’s story came to fill in those empty spaces. A Question of Trust is seeping out of my fingers and becoming the third Stormhaven story.

A Question of Honor starts at the Long Beach, California, airport, when Devin comes off the plane to meet Sydney, starting an adventure that will change both their lives:

She knew that walk. With a slight hesitation in one leg, he prowled like a wounded predator, conditioned to succeed against the most dangerous game of all. Even limping, his reactions would be instantaneous, his balance superior. By itself, his body would be a weapon. He’d be the best man to have on your side in a battle. After the battle, he’d unwind with a drink and a woman. The drink would be strong and straight. The woman would be bosomy and not too bright. He’d very likely spend more time with the drink than the woman.
Sydney Castleton let her mind drift through bitter thoughts and buried memories as she waited for the man who proclaimed danger with every step he took toward her. He was no different from the men who’d worked with her father: soldiers of fortune, whose luck could run out at any minute.
What trouble had her sister gotten her into this time?

You can find A Question of Honor at most major e-book sellers, or at Black Opal Books

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New Mexico sunset

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Just Keep Moving #MFRWAuthor

The monumentally talented Lisa Ricard Claro wrote the blog I contemplated. The not so Obvious Obvious

It is a shame we don’t figure these things out earlier in life, sad that too often we don’t figure them out until it’s too late. Once I did decide to take more control of my life, I developed a mantra to chant when I was not feeling very motivated

Don’t Sit when you can Stand.

Don’t Stand when you can Walk.

Don’t Walk when you can Jog.

Don’t Jog when you can Run…some of us substitute stumbling around for Jog and Run but the main idea is:

JUST KEEP MOVING.

If nothing else, a moving target is harder to take down! And here’s proof I am moving. Not fast, not real pretty (my dog is the pretty one) but moving.

 

Lisa has written the small town Firefly gems, check her out at the above link!

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The Fullness of our Lives #MFRWAuthor

Nothing profound here, I’m just sharing a bit of my life. When I am not writing, I am with my dogs. Heck, when I am writing I am with my dogs. When I’m working, or traveling, or doing whatever, part of my mind is on my dogs. That’s what it’s like to be a responsible dog owner.

My breed of choice since 1972 has been the Saluki, though from time to time I’ve flirted

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Noble…Stately…Saluki

with other breeds. Something about their eyes, their devious minds, their loyal to a select few people selves calls to me.We do things together and at times the Salukis are what get me up in the morning and keep me moving throughout the day. In addition to devoting my not always spare hours to the dogs, I’ve also done what I could to pay back for their existence in my life by working with clubs to help put on events and protect our breeds.

 

Which led to me chairing the Saluki National Specialty. Again. This means managing a show dedicated to my breed. Pretty heady stuff, or pretty scary, depending on where I was in my planning. We hold the show at the Purina Event Center south of St. Louis, which

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see…51

means an 18-20 hour drive.This year I was determined not to drive until my eyes crossed, something I’ve done too often in the past. My poor guardian angel! I broke the drive into 8-10 hour segments, including stops to walk the dogs and also walk myself.

We spent the first night in Area 51…okay, not quite but I was in camping spot 51 at the El Reno KOA. Seriously, see the sign? Then on to Purina,and seven days of activity before returning, this time setting up at Elk City. It can be a gypsy sort of life, going to dog

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Setting up the camp in Elk City OK

shows, traveling sometimes ridiculous distances and taking over temporary domiciles. Always with the dogs.

Does this have anything to do with writing? Funny you should ask. About six hours into the first day, I knew how I was going to move Lana and Adam to the next stage of their relationship. That would be for A Question of Trust, the third Stormhaven book. In the middle of my show chair duties, I received a message from Faith, my intrepid editor at Black Opal Books, returning edits for A Question of Faith, along with a declaration of love for this story. Pretty heady stuff! Now that I’m home and sort of rested up I’m finally writing down that scene I envisioned while on the road, and getting ready to approach those edits.

51901WEC-WL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_In the meantime, if you haven’t read about Sydney and Devin, you might grab a copy of A Question of Honor and learn about Stormhaven.

I’ll be back sooner to share more adventures living in New Mexico with Salukis and gardening and…food!

 

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Rediscovering HetRomance: A Question of Honor (Mona Karel) #Review #MFRWAuthor

The best way to support an author is by reviewing and the very best way to honor that author is with a truly honest reviews. Thanks SO MUCH

Love's Last Refuge

A couple years ago I was totally put off by vapid MF romances of every ilk—historical, dark urban, paranormal… You name it, the same old tropes ruled, the bodice rippers, all gussied up in contemporary dress yet dragging along the baggage of ancient terms and conditions—heroines without agency, alphaholes without merit yet commanding book boyfriend status (and WTF is that about?), the distaff side living lives of proscription and prescription.

Then I discovered gay literary fiction, along with advancing subsets of MM romance that quickly devolved into MF clones (heavy on feminine sensibilities/desires/expectations), and lawdy they became fraught with HEAs and monogamous attachments, like an interpretative dance where the choreographer has no clue about the realities of lives lived on the periphery.

Then I found the male authors—and merciful heavens, you have to search long and hard because they’ve become buried under an avalanche of usurpers—and I gave a sigh…

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This is No Time for a Chat #MFRWAuthor #Amwriting

Thanks to the inspirational advice of The Amazing Jami Gray  I’ve been immersed in final edits for A Question of Faith, the next Stormhaven story. As I was going through the first love scene, I reviewed the pithy, witty, clever, totally unnecessary dialogue. Intimate chatting after the fact is or can be so special. Not so much when your characters are supposed to be on the verge of out of the universe love making. Julie Andrews said it best:

Best just get on with it, don’t you think?

Especially when I find a gem like this: ‘His mouth hovered over hers.’ Bringing up images of flying saucers…or stealth helicopters. Well, at least it didn’t hoover. But, yeah, need to reword that one.

#amediting and writing.

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Hear Me Roar…and Make it Happen #MFRWAuthor

I was reminded of this song while noodling through YouTube. A song so powerful, it was used by the United Nations to mark “The Year of the Woman.” At that time no doubt we all thought women’s rights were a foregone conclusion.

Yeah, about that… We’ll get there eventually. In 1975 I was finishing up my career with horses. I wasn’t thinking much about women’s rights since jobs in horses are filled by people willing to work, and you keep working according to how well you do the job. Young females are often hired since they crave being close to horses. If I had not fallen for Salukis I’d possibly still be cleaning stalls and picking out hooves.

Where I worked with horses, everyone did everything, with no thought of how heavy that bale of hay might be, or how fussy we had to be about cleaning tack. You just did the job until it was done. This continued as I worked in a wide variety of jobs. By the time I married I was accustomed to doing what I could when I could. My husband took over some of the harder jobs, as long a it didn’t require climbing a ladder (he had issues with heights.) Since he died, I’ve once again handled what needed to be done.

Which brings me to my recent roaring adventure. After the well went dry we were hauling

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Truck, snow, camper shell

our water from a local source, using a 250 gallon tank on a trailer. I’ve shared some of the adventures with the trailer. This winter a blizzard moved in, leaving behind a mass of packed snow and ice that refused to melt. Hauling the trailer with the truck became problematic. Then the truck skidded into the trailer. and messed up the hitch. Oops.

While ice predominated on the local lane, using the hitch was a moot point since there was no safe way to haul a trailer with 2,000 pounds of water on board up the icy covered road. I busied myself with hauling water in five gallon containers, lifting those forty pound containers over my head to pour into the cistern. Great exercise. Seriously. Not a great long term solution.

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Tank on trailer

After some thought I came upon an elegant solution to the issue. I could buy a new trailer (expensive!) have a larger cistern installed to have commercial water delivery (even more expensive, and time consuming) or, I could transfer that water carrier to the bed of the truck. This would mean removing the camper shell, and figuring out how to get that tank up and in.

Nothing a strong woman can’t do. Even better when you have two strong, determined women. The camper shell was going to a chicken farmer. Once I removed the fasteners and loosened the shell with a pry bar (I love my tools!) the two of us lifted it off. Step one!

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Truck, no camper shell

Using straps, wedges, and a bit of creative thought, I got that tank onto the truck bed. Yes, I could have asked my very

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Tank, moving up to truck bed

helpful neighbor and had it been onerous I would. But the feeling of accomplishment was just too tempting.

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Yes, we can.

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