Chance Tomato Gugelhupf

I named this savory Gugelhupf after my dear friend, Nancy whose nickname is 'Chance'. This nickname is only known among our classmates from The Convent. Being taught to speak in english, we would all chance or dance but nancy somehow adopted the american slang and it was 'Chance", so that's why we nicknamed her so. Nancy has the same passion as i do, we both love to bake and our conversion would be always about baking something. I have told her that i wanted to make 'gugelhupf' but have not been able to bake one cos i do not have the proper mould. The day, i took her to Denver downtown, it was so hot that we can't remain outdoors anymore, by chance , we landed in TJMAX and what did we see? A blue silicone gugelhupf mould staring at us. Since my birthday was around the corner, 'Chance' gave me the most wanted present and so i have to bake a gugelhupf as soon as we got home. Thank you, dear 'Chance' for making this possible and hope that you had a safe and comfortable journey home to Malaysia.

Ingredients:


(for a 23 cm / 9 inch bundt pan)

3 large eggs + enough water to make 1 cup
1 tsp salt
1 Tbsp sugar
3 cups bread flour
1 tsp instant yeast

1 stick/4 ozs soft butter

1/4 cup pine nuts
1 bunch parsley
4 spring onions
25 cherry tomatoes
a dash of pepper

Method:

Roast pine nuts without any oil until fragrant.

Wash and chop parsley.

Wash and dice spring onions.

Preheat oven to 350 °F.

Put the ingredients for the bread in the bread machine according to the order listed, starting with the liquids and ending with the yeast on top of the flour.

Choose the dough function and when dough has formed, add in the butter.

At the first beep, add in the pine nuts, parsley and spring onions. Continue dough function until it is over. The dough should have been doubled.

Butter the bundt pan.

Wash and dry the tomatoes.

Roll the dough into a log shape.

Cut off 25 slices of dough.

Press down each slice, put one tomato on each slice, add some pepper.

Wrap each tomato into the slice of dough, forming little balls.

Put balls into pan.

Let rise until dough has doubled its volume.

Bake on bottom rail of the oven for 50 to 60 minutes.

Let cake rest for 10 minutes, then flip over onto a wire rack.






Serves
Source URL: http://violeta-diario.blogspot.com/2009/08/
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TV for Writers

by Susan Sey

I avoid TV. It's not because I have anything against it, though. I don't. In fact, I love TV. I love it the way I love ice cream. The way I love Diet Coke. The way I love books.

I love TV quite a lot.

In fact, when TV lives up to its potential, I am powerless to stop myself. I am an addict, & this is why I avoid it. In real time, anyway. DVDS are another story.

When the Sopranos ended its run to such acclaim a few years ago I thought, "Okay, time to see what all the fuss was about." Blockbuster.com sent me the first season on DVD over the Fourth of July. By Labor Day my husband & I (he's as bad as I am) had pounded through all eight seasons. I'll leave you to do the math but the number of hours we spent parked in front of the TV during those few weeks is cringe-worthy. We were lucky nobody staged an intervention. Especially since it wasn't the first time we'd behaved in such a fashion.

Lost did it to us, too. That pilot episode when the plane first crashed? Yowza. And five, six seasons later, bad guy Ben just keeps the passive-aggressive fun coming. Good times.

I mourned when we finished the last DVD of Arrested Development. In addition to the razor-sharp humor (a character with sexual identity issues inadvertantly bills himself as an "analrapist" on his business cards, a combination analyst & therapist), it also provided me with my first opportunity in a number of years to remark upon how darn cute that Jason Bateman was.

The Office (the British original) introduced me to a brand of cringing comedy that was so excruciatingly honest I didn't know for a solid three DVDs if I liked it or not. Turns out I do. (The American version introduced me to John Krasinski, on whom I instantly developed a minor crush. I still like the British version better, though. Ricky Gervais is incredibly talented.)

And now we're addicted to a new one--The Wire, a cop show set in Baltimore's west side. The writing is again razor sharp & the dialogue rings incredibly true. But there was one episode in the first season--one scene actually--that sealed the deal for me. It's a scene in which Detective Jimmy McNulty & his partner Bunk revisit a crime scene to role play a murder. They say nothing but the f-word for about four solid minutes, each time with a different intonation & a different meaning. By the end of the scene they'd drawn a completely new conclusion about the crime & so had the audience--through nothing but about four minutes of the f-bomb.

I don't know if that's quality writing or acting, or maybe both, but I was totally sold. We watched Season One in five days.

We start Season Two tonight.

How about you? For your money, what's the best TV show on the air right now? Off the air? Who's telling the best story these days? I'd love to know because, at the rate we're eating up The Wire, we're going to need a new addiction one of these days pretty soon.Source URL: http://violeta-diario.blogspot.com/2009/08/
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Mussels The Asian Way

There are many ways to cook mussels but i like to cook them the asian way which i find is the best way as good mussels, fresh or frozen should be cooked in a subtle and simple way so as not to mar the flavor or texture - "Less is more when it comes to cooking mussels! "



Ingredients:

2 lbs mussels(fresh or frozen) - To clean mussels visit How to clean mussels
2 tbsp cooking oil
1 tbsp chopped garlic
1 tsp chopped ginger
1 tbsp chopped chili padi/jalapeno
3 - 4 tbsp shaoxing wine
A dash of fish sauce
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tbsp chopped spring onion

Method:


Heat wok with cooking oil and when oil is hot, add in chopped ginger , garlic and chili padi .
Saute until fragrant but not browned.
Add in the cleaned mussels and stir.
Add in the shaoxing wine, fish sauce and black pepper.
Cover wok , this creates the necessary steam required to open the shells. It will also decrease the overall heat within the pan. Continue to finish cooking.
After about 4 minutes, remove the lid. At this point, most if not all of the mussels will be open. Mussels, unlike clams, will open before they are cooked all of the way through. If some of your mussels have not opened, then it is possible that either they were not cooked long enough, or they are bad and should be discarded. If most of them have not yet opened, place the cover back on the wok and wait another minute or two. Be careful not to cook the mussels for too long, as they will become tough and grainy if overcooked.

Sprinkle with spring onions and serve immediately.

Serves
Source URL: http://violeta-diario.blogspot.com/2009/08/
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HOW COME YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME . . .

by Jo Robertson



I was teaching my granddaughter how to make my special brownies the other day. Corinna’s ten and the oldest of three children, so she took charge immediately.

“Two scant cups flour, ½ scant cup cocoa." She read through the entire list aloud without stopping, gathered the ingredients and utensils, and spread them out on the counter.

Only then did she stop and ask, “What’s ‘scant’”? She pronounced the word with a long a, which was rather cute, but of course, I held back my smile.

“Not quite full to the top,” I answered, “because I don't like my brownies too chocolate-y.”

We began making the brownies (recipe below for seekers of high-calorie goodies). I instructed her every step of the way. “We always cream the butter and sugar,” I said, “and then add the eggs. You don’t want to melt the butter in the microwave and then add the eggs or else – ”

“You’ll get scrambled eggs!” she giggled.


Quick girl.

My daughter Megan sat on a high stool, watching us, a puzzled look on her face. “I never knew that,” she said at last, “the part about creaming the butter and the sugar. How come you never taught me that?”

Why hadn’t I taught her that? Easy answer – she was the sixth child in a seven-year stretch of babies. The girl was lucky I taught her how to tie her shoes. Wait! That wasn’t me; it was her older sister.

Sigh.

You see how it goes? Whether you have one child or seven, it’s the same. There’s never enough time to teach them everything. Some stuff they figure out on their own. If they're lucky, they'll learn the rest from a sibling or a friend.


I learned to drive a stick shift car from my father, not always a good idea as papas are notoriously impatient teachers. My sons learned from me.
It's fun to teach boys how to drive because they're so eager and are often quite skillful. They relish the whole idea of keeping the gear in second before they pop it into third or fourth. I call it the Nascar Syndrome. But I wonder, will their sons ask some years down the road why their father didn’t teach them how to drive a stick shift?

You see, there’s a window of opportunity to learn something -- riding a bike, tying your shoes, swimming. If you miss it, you may never learn how to master that skill.


And of course, this applies to writing. Who "teaches" writers how to write? Do they figure it out on their own? Are they born storytellers for whom it comes naturally? Do they have mentors or is it all trial and error?


What about you? Is there a hole in your "learning repertoire"? How did you learn the basics of life -- cooking a meal that isn't microwaved, sewing on a button or mending a tear in your shirt? Putting gas in your car or fixing a flat tire?


If you're a writer, who "taught" you how to write or who fostered the desire to write stories of your own?


And here's the recipe!
JO'S BEST BROWNIES
2 scant cups flour
1/2 scant cup cocoa
1 cup soft butter
2 cups sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 eggs
nuts (optional)

Bake in greased pan at 350 degrees for twenty minutes. Do not overbake. Sprinkle with powdered sugar when warm.
Source URL: http://violeta-diario.blogspot.com/2009/08/
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hackey hudjson: Blogroll

All About Advertisements
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Chic Stories
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Drupal Pinoy - Philippine Drupal Suite
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Girlz Gurlz Galz
Haute Stuff
hiSunglasses
I Luv Prada
Iloilo Bloggers
India Fashion Expo
Jankasphere
Journal Of A Self-Confessed Shop Girl
Life Of A Designer Kid
Luxury Fashion Clothing Collection
My Air Shoes
Nurse Who?
Plus Size
Prada Sunglasses
Skate Clothing
Sweet Fashion Dreams
The L Report
Trend dela Creme
Wide Shoes Source URL: http://violeta-diario.blogspot.com/2009/08/
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You met her WHERE?

I've decided that true friends and true loves are unusual creatures.

In some ways they're like real wizards, or unicorns - no, not that they're impossibly mythical, but that they're not easy to find. Its not that they aren't there - really, there ARE good men out there! - it's just that they aren't common.

Then again, would you really want them to be? A true gem, a diamond of the first water as our Regency gents would call it, is rare. So is a true friend. Or a real, honest to goodness loyal, loving life partner.

Nope. Not common.

It's kind of like a recessive trait. I have Dalmatians. I love them for their humor, their active minds, and their amazing coloration. Liver-colored Dalmatians are less common than black and white ones. Liver's a recessive gene. Beautiful. Unusual, but not unheard of.

Kinda like true love or a loyal best friend.

I started thinking about all this when a friend told me about her first and best friend. The BFF had gotten very sick and my friend had gone to help. She flew to Rhode Island from Illinois. She stayed a week. She got her BFF's kids to school. She made casseroles, made sure the BFF's husband could stay at the hospital with his wife. When she left, she left food in the fridge, gas in the car, flowers on the bedside table and a "love-ya-get-well-be-happy" card with them so when her friend came home, she'd have something fun waiting for her.

I was so admiring, not only of the length of the friendship, but of the lengths to which she'd go for her friend. She told me they were like sisters. Neither of them had a blood sister, only brothers, so they'd gravitated to one another in school and through the long years, nothing had changed that sense of sisterhood.

Since I have a sister whom I adore, and a long history with her, (grins) I guess I'd never felt that way about a gal-pal, at least not early on.

I don't have a friend I've known since kindergarten and it made me a bit sad to realize it. It reminded me that there are people from those years I'd love to reconnect with. Alas, even Facebook hasn't helped on that one! But it probably will, one day.

I do keep up with two friends from my high school years, but it seems a slim bit of a friend load when my husband has a legion of pals from those days. Maybe it was the organized sport thing? I don't know. I was a misfit in high school, so it's probably not surprising that the misfit club I belonged to hasn't kept up.

College was a blur. Really. And I see you laughing...it WASN"T because of the beerfests. I went to college in a dry county. For those of you raised outside the South, that means they don't sell alcohol ANYWHERE in the entire county. Let's just say the next town over was verrrrrry popular with my college pals.

That said, time just flew by while I was in the mountains of NC, matriculating. I think time flies now that I have kids, but I remember actually wishing time would slow down in college. Needless to say, it didn't.

I keep up with four or five people from college. Ironically, not my roommate. Nor my college sweetheart. (On reflection, that's probably a really GOOD thing!)

So all this got me to thinking, and you know how dangerous that is.

I began to wonder what changed for me. When did I start gathering the REAL friends. The women who now inhabit my life and make it sane, make it fun, make it grow and expand. When did the Women Who Make Me Laugh, the Women With Whom I Connect come to be part of my life?

Who are my true, now-BFFs and how did I meet them?

One of my BFFs is an intuitive counselor (a counselor who's a psychic) and started out as my grief counselor when my mother passed away. Then I went to work for her. Then we became fast friends. (I'm not just a client, I'm a pal!) She's a friend. A fellow writer. A confident extraordinaire.

Another, long time BFF was in my Rotary club. You can only imagine how much fun we had with that. We worked for rival banks for a while. Equally amusing - though not to our bosses. She threw an engagement party for me when I got engaged to a guy I didn't marry. She hated him. She did it anyway, 'cause she felt it was the right thing to do. That's what you do for your BFF. (Thank heavens I didn't marry that guy!) Needless to say, she was relieved when I met my DH. She was one of my two bridesmaids.

One cool BFF I met over home reno's, dogs and marketing brochures. She had Keeshonds. I had Dalmatians. Somehow, we worked that out. Ha! We painted together, stripped tables, hung wallpaper. We still trade decorating secrets.

Decorating's the profession of another of my BFFs. I met her at church. We went to church in our "new" city of DC on the same Sunday. We both joined the pitiful choir (1 bass, 1 tenor, 2 altos, 2 sopranos) and managed to forge a friendship that's lasted for more than twelve years. Carrying that chior on our shoulders was a real bonding experience, fer sher.

Then there's the BFF I met in line at the welcome reception at the Denver RWA conference. We've been best buds since then. We've traveled together, roomed together at Nationals and locals, we've scrapbooked together, laughed, cried and grown as women and as writers because we're friends. She was the third person I told when I found out I finally managed to get pregs with my second child. (She'd actually figured it out because I ordered black beans at dinner. She knows I despise black beans, in general. Ha!) She's one of the first I call or email with news or triumphs or for advice. She's pure gold.

Another pal, confident, friend and fellow Mom is from my neighborhood. We trade kid stories. Dog advice. We watch one another's houses for vacations, we take care of one another's pets for days and weeks. We have barbeques and dinners together. Our kids make s'mores together, swim together and go trick or treating together. We walk our kids to school together.

Then there's the hackey hudjson. Legends in present time. Grins. Meeting for the first time - and in several cases NOT meeting - as 2006 Golden Heart Finalists. Who could ask for a better cadre of BFFs? When we decided to start the blog together, some of us had still not met in person. What started out as a "Hey, let's try this out and see..." has become what another pal of mine calls A Force Of Nature. Heehee. I love thinking of the hackey hudjson as a force of nature. Nice image.

It seems I've met more of the lasting kind of friends since I started writing.

Some of my writers pals I've met in surprising ways - online, in classes, at the grocery store, in the bar. (Imagine THAT?!?!)

I've met tons of fast friends in my local chapter, what a great group of women and men THAT is! Gotta love the Washington Romance Writers.

Of course, there are some other really great writer pals I've met online too. I met Becke Martin here, and just met her in person at National this year. *waving at Becke* Becke and I are having a great time hanging out at the Barnes and Noble.com Mystery Bookclub. A bunch of ya'll have stopped by, so thank you!!!

And there's Keira, who's off visiting castles. And PJ, and Gannon, and Limecello, Jane, Buffie....the list goes on and on and on! How cool is that? What a blessing the hackey hudjson have been in terms of friends! You're never lonely at National if you know the Banditas that for sure. I ran into Bandits, BB's and folks who've guested with us EVERYWHERE. It was great.

I have a new BFF-in-the-making. She's another writer - imagine that! - and one I've admired for quite a while. We have a lot in common and have been laughing our arses off when we talk. That's a BFF in the making, right there.

What about you? Do you have a BFF that you've had "for-evah"?

Did you meet any of your friends in unusual ways? In court or on jury duty? Skydiving? Scrapbooking? Here?

What about your spouse?

I met my marvelous husband at a party. It was a set up, but I didn't know it. I'm thrilled now, but at the time? I was SO ticked to learn that the only reason for the party was to set this date up. I had sworn off dating you see...

One of my friends met her husband online. Another met hers at Karate. Yet another met hers at a fraternity/sorority dinner, but she was with someone else. They waited until the Brother she was dating left the house and campus before they felt they "could" date. They've been together for nearly 30 years now. Wow.

What about your BF, Spouse or just that "special" guy you had a great time with? Any fun stories on how you met?

Time to dish, ladies!Source URL: http://violeta-diario.blogspot.com/2009/08/
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Twilight Saga: New Moon Fashion Guide 2 ~ Volturi Clan

Twilight Series fans, here's a post dedicated to all of you. Last month, I blogged about Alice Cullen's fashion style. Now, let me present to you the fashion statement of the Volturi Clan.

"The Volturi are an organized coven of vampires. They enforce the laws of the vampire world. They "invite" other vampires with powerful gifts to join their coven. They are the largest, and most powerful Coven of vampires in the series."~ Twilight Saga Wiki


Marcus in long draped robe with a somber brown/black paisley scarf and Volturi crest necklace.

Jane in a somber dress with a dark brown bow and the Volturi crest necklace.


Aro in a regal black suit with the Volturi crest necklace.


Caius has a black robe with a red scarf accent.


Alec of the Volturi in black and crimson number.

SourceSource URL: http://violeta-diario.blogspot.com/2009/08/
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THAT MOMENT IT CLICKS

by Suzanne

No this isn't a discussion about my digital camera or my ability to take really cute pictures of my grandkids, (although I do and they are!). No that clicking you hear is the light bulb going off over your head when you suddenly have a great idea. Or that moment when everything falls into place like cubes in a game. Or that moment when you know, deep down in your gut that something is right, or God forbid, something is wrong.

Click.

What? You think I'm a little loco in la cabessa? Well, I may be, but let me give you a few examples that reinforce my belief in the power of the click.


1978...Mount Carmel School of Nursing. At 19 years old, I'm a senior doing my mother-child rotation, this week in Labor and Delivery. I'll graduate in the spring. I've got my plans for what I'll do with my career. I've adored two nurses my whole life. My mom, who was a surgical scrub nurse and Hot Lips Hoolihan from the M*A*S*H TV show--another surgical nurse. I'll go straight into the OR and follow in their footsteps. But first, I have to finish school. Today, I'm standing at the foot of a delivery table watching my first baby being born. As the head, then shoulders, then body emerges, tears fill my eyes and there's a loud "click" in my head. I realize in that moment that my plans are forever changed. THIS is what I want to do.

Fast forward three years. Met my husband. No the click didn't happen then. A month later we went on our first date. We spent the evening eating pizza, then going to a dance club, but didn't dance too much. But afterward, when he kissed me goodnight, CLICK. Not the kind of electrical current thing that would make us vulnerable to be around in a thunderstorm kind of click. Just the, this is the one I could spend my life with and be happy, kind of click. That was more than 28 years ago and counting.

Sometimes my "clicks" are subtle and I have to listen very closely to them. Occasionally, I'm staring at a fetal monitor strip and I just get that feeling deep in my gut that says, "Click, this baby is in trouble." It comes with time, experience and training, but when I listen, then the doc listens to me, things usually come out good. Sometimes, it's a quiet "click" about one of my kids, or a friend, or my parents. You know, that urge to make the phonecall, just because they've been on your mind all week long? And when you do...sometimes it's just your voice they need to hear at the dreadful moment in their lives? CLICK

Another click happened while we lived in Florida. I'd always played with writing scenes when I was bored and had nothing to read. This particular night I wrote a great scene about a heroine escaping up a hillside from a man she knows is a killer. It was historical, the hero is her husband, but doesn't know she witnessed a murder and doesn't know she's fleeing town in such a precarious situation. Oh yeah, it's winter, it's Colorado, and she's eight months pregnant. It's also the middle of the book. That's when the "click" happened. Why was she fleeing? Who did the murderer kill? Why hasn't she told her husband? (That's my image of the hero..)



CLICK! I was hooked. 395 pages later, I'd written my first book!


I've started a new book--a sequel to my story THE SURRENDER OF LACY MORGAN. I've known the hero for over a year now, (imagine Shemar Moore from CRIMINAL MINDS in jeans, chaps and a cowboy hat...yumm...okay, you don't have to imagine, I'll show you...)...er, I digress.

Anyways, I know his backstory, his conflict, his needs. I knew who his heroine is...but I know nothing really about her. With free writing I figured out her motivation and some of her backstory. Then I wrote the first scene of the book, then rewrote it, then rewrote it and yet again. Finally, I let her be proactive to a particular problem, the one that sets her out on her journey... and CLICK!! Yep...gonna be a good story!!!




So, how about you? Ever hear your own "clicks"? That moment in time when your life changes? Your story changes?

Source URL: http://violeta-diario.blogspot.com/2009/08/
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Knights of the Bruce

Today we welcome Scottish historical author Gerri Russell back to the Lair. Next month is the official launch of her new series about the Scottish Knights Templar with volume one, To Tempt A Knight. Which has a very tempting cover, as you'll see. I've read the first part of this book, which has dynamic action and heart-wrenching romance, and I can't wait to finish it. Gerri will tell us what inspired the series and give us a peek inside the book. Welcome, Gerri!

I’m thrilled to be back in the lair with so many of my favorite people to celebrate the release of my new book, To Tempt a Knight. This book starts a new series for me based on a group of men in Scottish history that were know as Robert the Bruce’s special guard. These men were the best of the best, specially-trained in the military arts, and handpicked by the Bruce himself.

Anyone familiar with 14th century Scottish history knows that the reign of Robert the Bruce was anything but peaceful. The English were a constant threat to Scottish lands and their way of life. The Bruce had wanted desperately during his lifetime to go on crusade to the Holy Land. Some theorize that it was a way for him to make peace within himself over the slaying by his supporters of John Comyn, his rival for the throne of Scotland. The incident led to the excommunication of the Bruce from the Catholic Church.

As the king’s life neared its end, he called on his men to grant him one last favor. After he died, he asked that his heart be removed from his chest and taken on Crusade to the Holy Land for burial in the church of the Holy Sepulchre. Faithful to their king, they cut the king’s heart out at his death, placed it in a specially designed cylindrical vessel, and in the spring of 1330, the Bruce’s inner circle of knights, supported by twenty-six squires and a retinue of men, set off on a Crusade from Scotland for Jerusalem, fighting the infidel along the way through enemy territory.

On the morning of August 25th, 1330, the Scottish knights joined King Alfonso of Castile in a battle that was intended to crush the Kingdom of Granada, which was held by the Moors at that time. A false battle cry sent the Scottish knights into battle before they had adequate reinforcements. They were outnumbered a hundred to one. And even with the heart of the king on their side, they were doomed to failure. The knights were crushed by the Moors, and their mission failed. Five of the ten knights died, along with hundreds of foot soldiers.

When I read about the devastation Robert the Bruce’s knights suffered, I knew I had to write the stories of these knights. What would it be like to lose everything—their friends, their family (they gave them up to be Templars), their purpose, their confidence, and their faith? In the series I explore how three of these men recovered from that kind of devastation.

Of course, we all know it takes the help of a good woman, despite the fact they’ve all taken vows of chastity, to get them back on track. Here’s a snippet of some of that recovery from the pages of To Tempt a Knight.

A primitive jolt of desire rocked William as he gazed down at Siobhan. Sweet Mary, he groaned silently. The blood pounded in his veins and quickened in his loins to a point he had never experienced before. He’d lost himself all right. He’d lost himself, body and soul, in the feel of her body next to his.

Firelight flickered across her red hair and gilded the softness of her alabaster skin. When had the sun vanished from the sky? He hadn’t noticed light or dark, nothing but the woman who stood not two paces from him.

He wanted to reach out to her, to shatter the tension between them and end this madness. Surely, once he tasted her, his senses would return to normal and they could move forward with their journey.

His thoughts stopped him. You’re a monk. And with that designation comes certain responsibilities. William clenched his jaw, fighting desire. He had dedicated himself to something other than the concerns of mortal men.

He felt very mortal at the moment, and vulnerable to the desires of men. Suddenly, the question he usually asked himself in times of great fear sprung forward in his mind. What’s the worst that can happen?

William clung to the question like a lifeline. The worst might be that he’d want more than a sampling of what Siobhan had to offer. The worst might be that he’d be forced to recant his vows, to leave the Templars, to take up a secular life. Or worse yet, that God might turn his back on him.

Never had he been so tempted to turn away from his vows. He took a step closer, reminding himself that God would forgive his failings. He forgave all men their imperfections. William swallowed roughly as he moved closer. Her delicate fragrance filled his senses. Forbidden or not, he wanted her.

“Siobhan,” he whispered her name. He could feel the warmth of her against his chest, yet they did not touch. He lifted the end of her damp plait where it hung across her shoulder and curled it around his finger. Slowly, slowly, he increased the pull. Not hurting her, simply drawing her forward until her hips touched his.

He toyed with the single strand of hair at the end of her plait that she’d used to hold the whole tight. His thumb brushed the end backwards and forward until it gave under his gentle caress.

He could not stop the low groan that came from his chest when the ends of her hair came free. He worked the plait apart, higher and higher. “You should let your hair go free.” He kept his manner light, but he couldn’t hide the desire that deepened his tone.

A shiver moved through her as he continued. With each fraction of an inch he moved up the length of her hair, unplaiting it, he drew her closer. Her breasts brushed his chest. He brought the fall of her hair up to his mouth. He brushed the silken texture against his lips.

He let it fall back against her neck and followed it down, pressing the softest of kisses to her hair and the flesh of her shoulder beneath. Her skin was exquisitely soft, and he lingered there, unable to pull away.

She shuddered at the contact. “William, we should not,” she whispered.

“I know.” His body pulsed and ached as he shifted his gaze from her to the pool beyond them. Mist crept across the moonlit waters and a whisper of a gentle breeze chased through the silver-backed leaves overhead. “Everything in my head says nay, but you here in my arms feels right.” His voice was shaking, and shivers ran down his limbs.

She pulled him closer.

He buried his face in her hair and drew in the soft scent of heather that lingered there. He felt the curve of her body against his. All the blood in his body ran erotic, beating with longing, with the need to not just take her, but possess her as his own.

She wanted that too, he could feel it in the beat of her heart against his chest, feel the ripening of her breasts where they pressed against him.

Being near her without possessing her was pure hell. The emotions that drove them to this moment, the force of their passion was a gift given freely by the Maker above. They had every right to explore that gift. He was only a man, and man was flawed. He knew what his sins were. He knew what his judgment would be. And he found he didn’t care what it cost him.

He wanted to lose himself, to put an end to his self-imposed isolation with the woman in his arms. He was always alone, had wanted to be alone, until she came along. He held her tighter. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he breathed as the flame inside him burned ever brighter. He would use that fire within himself to incite her, to please her, and make a world where only he and Siobhan existed as they became one flesh.

I hope you’ve enjoyed a peek inside To Tempt a Knight as much as I’ve enjoyed sharing it with you.

Now it’s your turn. What kind of hero captures your heart? Is there a particular hero that stayed in your thoughts and your heart long after the book was over?

One commenter will receive a copy of To Tempt a Knight.Source URL: http://violeta-diario.blogspot.com/2009/08/
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