As many of you may know, our beloved sister hostess SHARON DONOVAN, tragically passed away on 11th April 2012. We who knew her, loved her, and were inspired by her courage and determination to face head on whatever life threw at her. When she could no longer see to paint she turned to writing and showed her amazing talent in the Inspirational Romance and Romantic Suspense genres, and her story 'Charade Of Hearts' was awarded the coveted Predators and Editors Award in January 2011.

This Blog was a source of great delight to her, she was one of the founder hostesses and she contributed to the fun and silliness in her own original way, and was kind enough to let her unique creation, the hunky butler 'Oliver' join us for our Friday romp and prepare 'virtual breakfast' for the guests on the following morning. It's beyond hard to have to go on without her, but we know that she would have been the first to insist that 'the show must go on.' She is, and will always be with us in spirit.
Sharon, dear friend, we will never forget you.
The Author Roast and Toast is part of the legacy you left us. Let's raise a Toast to you as well as all our guests.

Friday, December 31, 2010

Happy New Year!


From Sharon, Mary, Lyn and Oliver!

We hope you enjoy the following video we made just for you!

Join us for another party on 7th January, when we will be 'roasting and toasting' fantasy author 

Saturday, December 25, 2010


Thank you for all your support over the last year, to the authors who've bravely allowed themselves to be 'roasted', and the loyal followers and visitors who have been kind enough to leave comments.  We hope you have a wonderful Christmas season and will join us again next year for some more fun and frolics.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Cindy Green's Office Christmas Party

“We’ve got to get these two together at this year’s Christmas party if it’s the last thing we do,” Sharon said, smiling brightly at her co-workers as she hung a shiny red heart-shaped ornament on the Christmas tree. 

“One of us has got to play Santa matchmaker this year and it might as well be me.”

“I want to play Santa,” Mary pouted, snatching the ornament Sharon had so gingerly placed between a green grinch and a red apple.” “We all remember last year’s party when you played matchmaker. You were so sure that two of our top employees were a match made in heaven that you set them up at the Christmas party. Talk about a fiasco. Man oh man. Girl, you kept the rumor mill buzzing for months at the water cooler. ”

Sharon hung an oversized holly wreath on the wall and snorted.” So who knew they were both wayward members of AA. Had I known sending them those Secret Santa letters would drive them to drinking, I wouldn’t have made them so mushy. Like I said, who knew?”
Lyn chuckled, nailing mistletoe in the doorway entrance. “You had them both so uncomfortable, they hit the spiked eggnog running.”

“There’s an understatement,” Mary giggled, taking a minute to tug at her tight green velvet dress to expose her cleavage. “It was more like they did a nose dive straight into the punch bowl and never came up for air until they were too wasted to know what they were doing or saying.”

“And by time they were wearing the lamp shades on their heads,” Lyn recalled, doubling over with hysteria at the memory. “They were the floor show.”

“More like the side show,” Sharon placed a Santa sleigh full of chocolate kisses on the table, getting into the spirit of decorating. “But if you recall, things didn’t get ugly until they started slugging eggnog at one another, hitting the president in the cross fire, saturating his designer suit beyond repair.”

“And the look on his face was worth the price of admission,” Mary ripped the foil wrap from a candy kiss and stuffed it into her mouth. “Made it a Christmas to remember.”

“I captured the moment on my trusty little digital camera,” Lyn said, plugging in the tree lights, creating a kaleidoscope of red and green twinkle lights to dance on the floor. “I didn’t mean for the entire office to see them. I hit 'send all' by accident, honest. I only wanted you girls to see the pictures as a joke.”
“It was a Kodak moment to say the least,” Sharon laughed. “I guess some people have no sense of humor. Go figure, who knew they’d actually get fired over a little eggnog, huh?”
“Who indeed,” Lyn said, stepping into her brand new black patent leather shoes. “Tell the truth girls. Do these shoes make my feet look big”
Sharon and Mary exchange a look. Sharon steals a peek at her backside in the mirror. Mary pulls down her dress a little more to expose her fake hooters.
Outside the office window, snowflakes swirled down from the sky, turning the world into a winter wonderland. Lights twinkled all over the city like shooting stars. Dangling icicles hung from rooftops, picking up the reflection of the shimmering lights.

“Christmas is so pretty, isn’t it?” Mary smiled. “It’s like the world is born anew.”

“It certainly is,” Lyn agreed, hanging candy canes on the tree. “Now about this office romance, maybe we should just forget it.”

“I don’t know,” Sharon frowned, not convinced she should give up on playing Secret Santa. “I still say the reason they got so wasted was because there wasn’t any food. That’s why this year, Oliver has made quite a delicious spread for the party. Speaking of the handsome devil, here he is.

Oliver strolls in, whistling The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Smiling, he begins laying out the feast he has prepared.

Twelve chocolate Drummers Drumming cupcakes, eleven Pipers Piping chocolate chip cookies, ten Lords a Leaping cranberry truffles, Nine Ladies Dancing white chocolate eclairs, Eight dark chocolate Maids a Milking, Seven mint chocolate Swans a Swimming, Six Geese a Laying fudge brownies, Five Golden Rings Full of Joy, gingerbread men, Four double dipped Calling Birds, Three French Hen raspberry cream truffles, Two Turtle Doves Sinfully rich chocolate mousse and One True Love Devil’s Food cake in the shape of a heart.
Cocktails include strawberry punch, unspiked eggnog and cranberry orange coolers.
“Absolutely perfect, Oliver,” Sharon said, the warmth of the season filling her with joy. “And, girls, you’re right about playing Secret Santa at the office party. Let’s leave the matchmaking to Cindy Green. After all, she wrote the book ’All I Want for Christmas.’” 
Just then, Cindy Green sauntered in, mischief gleaming in her eyes. Dressed in a red velvet dress and Santa cap, she turns on the stereo. All I Want for Christmas filtered through the office.

For a chance to win a prize from Santa Cindy, please answer the following

Are office romances a good or a bad idea?


Best Friends or True Love? Only Santa Knows.
Kathryn Graham hates Christmas. She hates the snow, the decorations, the whole nine yards. Nick Pringle on the other hand can’t get enough of the season. He may be her best friend and fellow writer at Redburn Weekly Magazine, but sometimes his exuberance gets on her very last nerve. Now they’ve been assigned to cover the orphan toy drive story. It’s just a puff piece not the serious journalism Kathryn hopes for, but maybe—as Nick says—there are no old stories just new angles.

Nick Pringle has been in love with Kathryn practically since the day they met. When he realizes that she’s lost her Christmas spirit, he figures he’s just the guy to help her find it again. He enacts a plan to send her anonymous gifts from Secret Santa, but will any of this really make a difference in her? Will she ever see him as anything more than her smart-aleck partner even after their passionate kisses? Then again maybe he’ll get what he wants for Christmas after all.
Excerpt:Halfway through the film, Nick’s fingers brushed over Kathryn’s wrist and a surge whipped through her like an electrical charge. His hand ended up on her knee, and he leaned over close to her ear. “You have any more of those Milkduds?”

“Huh?” Oh, candy. He just wanted more snacks. Well, of course, what other reason would he have for touching her like that?

“Here,” she whispered and held out the container to him.

His face remained close to hers, his warm hand still molded to the shape of her knee. She accidentally moved in too close and her forehead bumped his cheek. Looking up at him, Kathryn saw he wasn’t smiling. His eyes had grown serious and all thoughts of candy dissipated. His attention dropped to her mouth and suddenly Kathryn couldn’t swallow. Could he possibly be considering kissing her? Just then, he turned his attention back to the movie and lifted his hand from her knee.

An unexplainable inclination took over as Kathryn pushed his hand back to her knee. His face whipped back to her. Questions filled his features. His chest moved up and then down. He smoothed his hand over her pants from her knee to her thigh and back again. Her skin pebbled under the material at his touch. This was soon followed by heat tingling from her stomach to the tips of her toes.

She leaned in towards him and he met her halfway. And just like that their lips met. Giddiness spun through Kathryn’s head with sparks tingling her skin. The kiss was light and sweet yet searing all at once. Lucidity began to return to her the next moment. What was she doing? Oh, right, she was kissing Nick Pringle. She was kissing a co-worker. Worse yet, she was making out with her best friend. What was she thinking? She had to stop and yet it was the last thing she wanted to do.

The whole idea was ludicrous. An outrageous act and yet somehow her body’s sole response was that it wanted more. Whoa! Had it been that long since she’d had a date? Time to reign in those annoying hormones which threatened to take over her sanity.

She broke off the kiss and rested her hand against his chest. She could feel his heart speeding at the rate of a train. A train wreck is more like it. Ay-yi-yi! How was she going to get herself out of this one?

Available at Champagne Books, All Romance e-books and Amazon.

Cindy K. Green is an author, teacher, maid, mother, wife and accountant. She’s been married for 15 years, has a degree in history and is a certified teacher, and taught middle school up until about six years ago. Now she stays home and homeschools her two boys.  Though born in California, she now lives in North Carolina out in the country about a ½ hour from Raleigh. She’s published in several genres: Inspirational, historical, contemporary, young adult and suspense. Those are also the genres she likes to read. She spends her (non-existent) free time reading, watching period dramas and doing her best to keep her house one step away from becoming a disaster area. Visit Cindy at her WebsiteBlog, Facebook, and  Twitter. Please join her  Newsletter by sending an email.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Margaret Tanner takes us back to the 1960s for a Hippy Celebration at Woodstock

"I can't believe we're here!" Sharon brushes back the hair that has escaped from her long braids.

The three hostesses of the Author Roast and Toast have made it to Woodstock! Back to l969 and all three are dressed as hippies. Bell bottom Wranglers, bra-less, in long tie dyed tee shirts and barefoot, they feel the squish of mud between their toes. Especially Lyn's incredibly huge ones. Mary's jugs bounce with the music and Sharon's big butt waddles to the beat of a big bass drum from onstage. The girls are happy!

The three hostesses of the Author Roast and Toast have made it to Woodstock! Back to l969 and all three are dressed as hippies. Bell bottom Wranglers, bra-less, in long tie dyed tee shirts and barefoot, they feel the squish of mud between their toes. Especially Lyn's incredibly huge ones. Mary's jugs bounce with the music and Sharon's big butt waddles to the beat of a big bass drum from onstage. The girls are happy!

"Yes, and thank Goodness you brought the huge umbrella Mary." Lyn snuggles closer to her two friends as they wait for the sky to clear and the music to begin again. They'd loved Joan Baez, Country Joe and the Fish, Santana, the Grateful Dead and Blood Sweat and Tears were tearing up the stage, and rockin' the tremendous crowd into a musical frenzy. "The farm way over there is the one whose barn we set up in. Margaret must already be there." Mary points and then gets sidetracked by two partyers who try to divert her with something they're smoking.

Lyn nudges Sharon and points to Mary, "We'll have to keep our eyes on her. You know how much trouble she almost got into at that Vietnam War Rally, she coulda been taken away and put in jail. She gets so involved and well, look."

Lyn and Sharon follow the voice of their fellow hostess. Mary's voice booms,"Wow, what is that, can I try it?" Without letting Mary reach for whatever it was she intended to sample Lyn and Sharon grab their friend and they head to the site of the party.

A farmer near the event has rented his barn and back yard to the girls,to host Margaret Tanner's roast. They were so lucky, some of these people had been outside for days and despite the rain and lack of food, still they stayed and partied. So they opened the party up and were feeding everyone they could. It was magic how Oliver dressed as a hippie, produced food from the air to feed people. But you were only allowed into the large barn if they were buying one of Margaret's books. The girls have tried the bee hive hair, mini skirts and disco, but this is much more fun. Although at this party there is a mixture of all kinds of music and people. The only thing more diverse then the attendees is the music!

Mary grabs her Gibson and starts to sing folk songs. Peter Paul and Mary's, Where Have All The Flower's Gone, she plucked with G, E minor, C, and D7, repeated over and over as it was in many Folk Songs. Lyn, grabs the Guitar and whips out a rendition of the Beatles, All You Need Is Love, but the barn explodes when Oliver picks out a sexy, raspy voiced rendition of Freedom.

Several girls swoon, or pass our for some reason or another. Others stare at him mouth agape.

Sharon lets him finish and then tells him if he doesn't take care of the food she won't let him stay for the final day. And Oliver really wants to hear Jimi Hendrix sing, Foxy Lady! So he turns to the food tables.

Huge apple pies, fresh with the scent of cinnamon wait to be topped with vanilla ice cream, fresh churned by some hungry hippie in exchange for food. Mississippi mud cake covered with strawberries, chocolate eclairs, brownies, chips, donuts, delectable munchies of all kinds fill the tables. Most of it has a main ingredient required by a lot of the guests, sugar...
On another table is the set up for beverages, from Coke and Seven Up, to Brandy Clusters and GinSquashes. The only thing they are waiting on is the guest of honor
And then in walks Margaret. Dressed in a mini skirt that shows off an incredibly long, lean, pair of legs and a the body of a waif. She is looking mighty fine. The eyes of every guy in the area are glued onto her as she strolls in looking hot!

Someone hands a microphone to Sharon who informs everyone at the top of her voice.

"Let's all shout out to the guys stuck in Canada or worse, Vietnam. To a lost friend John Fitzgerald. Come home man!

Please welcome Author Margaret Tanner. She is pleased to offer signed copies of her books and my friends, Party On!" By the way what is Margaret Tanner's favorite song from the 60's for a winner of a download each of her books: Cardinal Sin and Reluctant Father.


Jordan Stamford is allergic to babies. As war rages in Vietnam, this jet-setting playboy arrives in Sarah Watson’s seaside home to re-development it. Sarah loves her home, and longs for motherhood. Will Jordan’s shameful family past and Sarah’s desperate longing for a child, be an insurmountable barrier for them?

Lewis Inlet Annual School Bazaar.

The loud crying of a baby erupted in the surrounding crowd, and Jordan Stamford baulked just inside the school gates. Instinctively his hands moved to cover his ears and block the noise, but he was able to stop them at the last second. People surged around him, cutting off retreat, and his stomach muscles clenched, his pulse rate escalated—he was trapped.

The wailing grew worse, reverberating inside his head until his brain felt ready to explode. Teeth gritted, he pushed his way through the crowd. He could get away. It wasn’t like when he was sixteen and trapped on a train with some screaming baby. By the time the train pulled into the station and he could get off, he had been on the verge of hyperventilating.

Taking several shuddering breaths, he fought to get himself under control. This crying baby had resurrected the phobia he’d thought buried years ago. What kind of sniveling coward would go to pieces at the sound of a screaming child? Why should it still bother him so much after all this time? For years he had religiously avoided going anywhere near children. For God’s sake, what had made him drop his guard and come to a school bazaar, of all places?

He didn’t mind making regular donations to charities that looked after neglected children, as long as he didn’t have to present the checks in person. He feared having kids. With his family history, he was genetically predisposed to reject his offspring. No way would he risk bringing a child into the world to suffer the same fate as he had.


“Look at this horrible thing, Lisa. You’ll have to pay someone to take it away.” Sarah Watson squatted on the ground and shoved the moth-eaten deer’s head under the trestle table.

“You wouldn’t get me touching it,” Lisa said. “Have you met Jordan Stamford yet?”

“No, and I don’t want to, he’s going to wreck Lewis Inlet.”

“But he’s gorgeous.”

“I couldn’t care less what he looks like. Ouch!” Sarah banged her head on the table as she went to get up. A pair of expensive shoes and the hem of tailored sports pants came into her line of vision. “Coming here with his big city ideas and flashy car.” She climbed to her feet. “Lording it up at the big house. Who does he think he is, anyway?” She tossed her head, and her jet-black curls danced.

“And you are?” The owner of the expensive shoes savaged her with a contemptuous sweep of his ebony eyes.


BLURB: One bloody night Bryce Harrington thought savagely, and this happens. He had committed the cardinal sin of getting his secretary pregnant, and now he had to pay the price – offer marriage.

Caroline Dennison had committed the cardinal sin of falling in love with her boss. While her brother risks his life in the jungles of Vietnam, and her friend, a draft dodger, is on the run from the authorities and needs her help, Caroline has another desperate battle on her hands. How to win Bryce’s love


Make Love Not War!
Bryce Harrington cursed as an antiwar protester shoved a placard through his car window. Unwashed bloody hippies, disrupting a man going about his lawful business. It was 1966, for God’s sake. The government ought to lock up the lot of them.

“No conscripts for Vietnam!” a young woman screamed. Bryce felt tempted to press his foot on the accelerator and scatter them all in his wake. He was going to be late, and he didn’t like tardiness. It showed a lack of discipline.

When he arrived at work he parked the car and climbed out. “Damn it.” Some moronic protester had scratched the door of his car.

In his office another shock awaited. He found a note from his secretary.
I’m sorry. Have gone home. Felt a migraine coming on.

He slammed the door of the executive suite and marched down the corridor to see Miss Bumpstead, head of the typing pool. What a shocker of a morning it had been. A bloody nightmare.

The stray puppy he had been feeding for more than a month had been run over by some creep who didn’t even have the decency to stop and check on the little mutt’s welfare. Left him lying on the road like a piece of garbage.

After taking the dog to the vet to be put down because the injuries were so severe, he’d got caught up in that antiwar demonstration. And now, to top it off, his secretary had gone home and left him at the mercy of some giggling little girlie from the typing

Margaret is a member of the Romance Writers of Australia, the Melbourne Romance Writers Group (MRWG) and EPIC. She won the 2007 and 2009 Author of the Year at AussieAuthors.com.

Her novel Frontier Wife has just won the best historical romance novel at the 2010 Readers Favorite Award.
Margaret is married and has three grown up sons, and a gorgeous little granddaughter.

Outside of her family and friends, writing is her passion

Publishers: The Wild Rose Press and Whiskey Creek Press.

Visit Margaret's Author Page at The Wild Rose Press