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, June 25, 2010

Double Celebration for Lady Tiffany

Hello and welcome to the Author Roast and Toast. We have a very special party today, a double celebration with Tiffany Green. Not only are we dancing the night away at a formal ball in Regency England to pay tribute to her book “Innocence Lost,” but it’s a graduation party as well. In three short days, Tiffany will receive her MBA! Congratulations, Tiffany!

The sound of Mozart floats across the elegant ballroom, vibrating off the mirrored walls. A crystal chandelier cascades from a gabled ceiling, casting an ethereal glow on the guests as they glide across the black and white checkered marble floor. Dark wood paneling frames the massive stone fireplace, and life-size gargoyles stand in waiting at the entrance to the hall. Flickering standing candelabras paint willowy shadows on their faces, providing a surreal atmosphere to the ball. A narrow spiral staircase leads to upper wings, rumored to be haunted with the ghost of the duke that once resided in the manor. Open terrace doors lead to a patio overlooking a regal courtyard where a water fountain quietly gurgles against the jasmine-scented night.

Oliver, looking dashing in his cravat and double breasted waistcoat, has prepared a feast fit for royalty.
The three hostesses, dressed to the nines in formal regency ball gowns, set the feast on the sideboard.

The mingled aromas of lobster bisque, pigeon pie, veal, oysters, quail and trifles waft through the hall. Platters of fresh fruit and cheese trays artistically arranged on fluted dishes surround a punch bowl of wine made from grapes, boiling water, lemon and spices. Champagne trickles from a fountain next to the three-tiered chocolate cake, topped off with a graduation cap.

The hostesses, looking quite fetching in empire waist gowns and long, flowing skirts, fuss and fidget, making sure all is perfect. Each has a matching hat with a fancy plumed feather. Sharon, donned in scarlet and matching slippers, stops to admire her reflection in the mirrored wall. A sassy curl sweeps over her forehead, her elegant white gloved hands gingerly primping.

Spying Mary out of the corner of her eye, she beams. “My dance card will be full tonight, no doubt.”

“Sure it will, sweetie,” Mary yanks her emerald green gown down a little further to show off her bosom. “When you’re dancing in the dance line, they won’t be able to see your bubble butt.”

Sharon spins on her satin slippers, just as Lyn, donned in deep purple tapestry dashes past with a steaming platter of oysters. They roll across the hall, but not for long. Junior and Cuddles give chase, skidding on the marble floor like dancing fools. Lyn scowls at Sharon. “Now look what you made me do. If my petite feet take a skid on the floor, you will be very sorry!”

Mary and Sharon break into fits of laughter, knowing before the night is up, one if not all of them will manage to lose her dignity. But when Oliver announces the arrival of Lady Tiffany, a silence hums through the cavernous hall. Tiffany, looking drop dead gorgeous in a periwinkle silk gown with flowing gossamer sleeves, saunters into the ballroom on a pair of beaded glass slippers, blowing kisses to the guests. She has a sparkling diamond pendant, accenting the heart-shaped bodice of her gown. Oliver rushes over, casting her a wicked wink as he extends his arm to escort her into the grand ballroom. Thunderous applause explodes as guests scream, “Congratulations, Lady Tiffany!”

Champagne pops, unleashed balloons soar up to the gabled ceiling, and a squire with the lyrical voice of a fallen angel recites the blurb and excerpt from “Innocence Lost”:

From her first glimpse of his portrait, Lady Megan is smitten. Unfortunately, the handsome face belongs to her brother’s enemy—the Duke of Claremont, Nicholas Bradshaw. Nicholas learns a little too late that the beautiful girl he met at the stream is not at all who he thinks. And now, he must keep her safe from the enemy lurking close to home. When the kidnapper does strike, it takes the assistance of Nicholas, his former foe, and a pirate captain to save Megan. But will it be enough?


“My lady, come quick.”

Megan frowned at the closed door. She set aside her volume of Catullus’s poetry and rose from the chair in her sitting room. Calmly, she opened the door. If it was another man threatening suicide because she hadn’t agreed to marry him…

Julian’s furious voice rang through the house. She gasped and ran down the stairs.

Wentworth bowed and opened the drawing room door, as if he’d been expecting her.

Her heart took a crazy leap at the sight of him standing there. Nicholas. She glanced at her brother and grew worried. The two stood face to face with their fists balled and ready to strike.

As Julian moved forward, she flew between them. Her blood pounded hard in her ears. She stood so close to Nicholas, she could feel the heat of his body. She yearned to step into his arms. Had he come to see her? “What are you doing?” she demanded, looking from one wrathful face to the other.

“Leave, Claremont, now,” her brother said.

“Not until I have some answers concerning this.” Nicholas threw a crumpled newspaper down. “Damn you, Julian, you had no right.” Then his gaze shifted to her. Her heart surged up in her throat. He looked flushed with anguish. “How could you do this, Meg? Why didn’t you choose me?” His voice grew hoarse, full of pain. Then he went still. “Or did you choose me and your brother did not honor our agreement?” He jerked his head up and nailed Julian with a glare.

Confusion boiled within her. “What agreement?”

A muscle ticked in Nicholas’s cheek as he kept his eyes on her brother. “Tell her,” he demanded.

She turned to her brother and caught the unease in his eyes. “Julian?”

He heaved a sigh. “Moppet—”

“Don’t you dare call me that, Julian!” She poked a finger into his chest. “Tell me everything. Now!”

With a sigh, he nodded at Nicholas. “He was not to see or speak to you until you selected a husband. And I would not oppose your decision.”

She kept her eyes locked on her brother. “Even if I had named Nicholas?”

“Yes,” he said.

She wanted to kill Julian.

“Your brother also insisted that you were to know nothing of this agreement,” Nicholas added.

A sick knot of despair rose up from the depths of her stomach. She started to tremble. Her hands fell limply to her sides. “Are you telling me,” She turned to Nicholas, “that the only reason you’ve been ignoring me is because of a pact you made with Julian?”

His brows were drawn and his eyes filled with pain. He lifted his hand to touch her but halted and lowered his arm.

“Yes, love.”

Her eyes prickled as she turned to her brother. “I cannot believe you did this.”

“Megan, I did it for you—”

“No, Julian. You did it for you.” Oh, God, she had been so wrong about everything. Nicholas. Her brother. Everything. She trembled in earnest now.

Nicholas moved closer. He reached out as if to steady her, but didn’t touch her. “Are you all right, Megan?”

She glanced up, her vision swimming. “You were trying to find a way for us to marry?”

“Yes, my little nymph.”

A tear skidded down her cheek. “I-I can’t. I’m betrothed to another.”

Buy Link:

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/tiffany-green-m-600.html?zenid= 811e4e1426ce885c13c3570965e8b8a7

Author Web site: www.tiffanygreen.net

Answer the question by leaving a comment for a copy of this awesome book!

What would you do if you learned of a pact made between your brother and your one true love?


From the first moment I saved the knight in shining armor at age eight, I fell in love with romance. Since then, I have conjured many stories, and now I am excited to bring the best of them to you.

My main love is the Regency historical, but don’t be surprised if you find some medieval and western romances show up.

I am a native Texan and have deep roots in the small Texas town in which I live. My husband is incredibly wonderful and supportive and I have one awesome teenage son. Going back to school for my MBA is keeping me busy, but has not stopped me from my first love—creating exciting new worlds and interesting characters to fill them.

I’m also on Facebook. I hope you enjoy my books!

Friday, June 18, 2010

Sky Purington's medieval Scottish Release Party

Late afternoon in Medieval Scotland. The castle stands at the edge of the water, deceptively peaceful, from the outside, although inside, and in the grounds it is bustling with activity.

A warm breeze drifts off the loch and carries with it the skirling of pipes above the stamping of hooves in the stable yard, and the bustling of servants and men at arms in the courtyard and armoury.

In the large courtyard, a fair has been set up, with people selling their skills and wares.

Men in kilts and women with plaid shawls thrown over their colourful dresses mill around. The women flirt, the men converse with each other, avoiding the merry children playing among the tables and stalls. There is much merriment and laughter.

This evening there will be a great banquet in honour of the fair Lady Sky Purington, whose story, 'Sylvan Mist', the third in the Mac'Lomand series, is about to be realeased to the eagerly waiting masses.

Inside the castle Oliver, looking incredibly handsome in his kilt and handwoven shirt, is putting the finishing touches to the food. Trestle tables fill the huge banqueting hall, loaded with salmon, scallops, mussels and shrimp.
Boards with a selection of hard cheeses,
flat loaves of bread, and baskets and bowls filled with cherries, apples, blackberries, blueberries, elderberries, rowanberries and hazlenuts, prove very tempting to Cuddles and Junior who race around Oliver's feet, wearing their little tam o'shanters and drooling and getting in the way.
Platters of goose meat, capons, pheasant, partridge and wood pigeon, tempting mixtures of peas and beans, will soon join the rest of the fare Oliver is preparing.
On a side table a large Oat cake has been decorated by his own hand with a representation of Sky's cover for her new book.

Whisky, ale and wine will ensure that no-one goes thirsty.

The three hostesses, dressed in co-ordinating tartan kilts, with black berets and jackets are practicing the highland fling. Lyn trips over her own feet and they all land in a heap.

"You and your big feet," Sharon grumbes as she rubs her large posterior.

"Twasn't my feet," Lyn retorts, your bum got in the way. Good job Mary landed on her inflatable chest and we landed on top of her or we could have been hurt!

"They're all mine, I keep telling you, I can't help it if nature was extra kind to me," Mary snaps. Their bickering is interupted by the huge bell in the courtyard and Oliver rushes to welcome their newly arrived guest.

As soon as Sky enters the great banqueting hall the hostesses run to her and give her a group hug. She looks incredibly lovely with the lamplight burnishing the highlights of her golden hair, and wearing a long, flowing traditional tartan gown, a tam o'shanter perched jauntily on her head.

Oliver bows low and presents her with a sprig of white heather, tied with a tartan ribbon.

Sky accepts it with a smile and with the pipes playing in the background they escort her to the seat at the head of the table while the hostesses beg her to tell them all about herself.

' Thank you so much for having me at the Author Roast and Toast. What a privilege! All right, I know I’m supposed to talk about me. Mind you, that’s tough. At my blog http://www.skypuringtonwrites.blogspot.com/ I prefer chatting about the latest romance author, vendor, or anyone else out there doing good for others.

Okay, so about me. As I say at my website, it all started the year I won the first ever Young Author Award given to a second grader in the state of New Hampshire. What did that mean? Well, I won a monetary prize and got to meet Stephen King. That was pretty cool. Had I known who he was at the time! That’s really where the “grand-sounding-pump-myself-up” stopped. I drifted for many years after. Well─in retrospect ─ I followed my heart. Good friendships, many cultures, traveling, working, family. These are the things that made up my life until the age of twenty-four. Then I started educating through correspondence courses. Now I’m qualified to do a lot of things in both the medicinal and writing worlds.

Meanwhile, I fell in love with the forests of New Hampshire, travled the world, and took great pride in my family members who were part of the airlines, restaurant business, teaching profession and medical fields. What have a discovered about myself? I have great loves. Those include: family, history, culture and writing (of course, the medical field as well- but in that regard (truth told) I’m really more a ER and Gray’s Anatomy fan…so perhaps I’m more of a ‘wannabe’ in this respect).

It’s present day. Here’s where I am. I’ve focused on the nationalities that I descend from… Scotch-Irish first on the list. When I learned that my husband’s (love of my life) Highland Scottish clan (Mac’Lomain) was intermarried with my lowland Scottish clan (Brouns) for 300 years in the medieval period, well, you can well imagine how a trilogy was born. More interestingly, his clan derived from the Dal’Raida clan out of Ireland. I too have Irish blood. So, my short story, The King’s Druidess led seamlessly into the Mac’Lomain Trilogy. Book I was Fate’s Monolith. This first novel gave birth to Destiny’s Denial (Book II) and its hero, Ferchar, who was indeed, a historical figure. He was the first official chieftain of the Mac’ferarchar clan (AKA-Lamont- Gaelic translation- Mac’Lomain) Sylvan Mist (Book III) will wrap it all up nicely.

So here I am today, “So proud of my Scottish Trilogy.” Mostly because it will teach my son a great deal about his heritage but also, because it gave me wings to fly. This trilogy was contracted three years ago and it’s the foundation to all I know I can become. I believe in heroes, in heroines. I believe that love can find a way, no matter what stands in its way. I believe in Destiny…in Fate. Time means nothing if you know how to love and love well. Sylvan Mist will prove that.
Wow, what a fascinating insight into how you came to write this series, Sky - and you actually met Stephen King!

Before the party really gets going, to whet your appetite, both for food and literature, here's the blurb and an excerpt from the newly released 'Sylvan Mist'


Coira O'Donnell refuses to acknowledge the Scotsman haunting her. Why should she? She carries no magic and she's newly engaged. Well aware of the mysterious tie between the medieval Mac'Lomains and her mother's clan, the Brouns, Coira will have no part of it. She much prefers a proper English gentleman to a barbarian living six hundred years in the past. However, as one whirlwind day will prove, she has little choice in the matter.

Chieftain William Mac'Lomain did not call her back, yet she arrives. Coira is not the woman meant for him. Or is she? Her arrival marks the start of a highland war unlike any Scotland has witnessed before, one born of magic. Soon, he finds himself in a tangled web of duty, loyalty and unexpected love. A love so unattainable and powerful it may cost him the war; and his heart.


"Release me this instant you lout!" William did not release her but bared his straight white teeth in a wolfish grin and pulled her closer.

"But you seemed so peaceable a moment ago, lass. In fact, if I didna know better I would have thought you─"

Coira clamped a hand over his mouth, knowing full well he was about to say something appalling. She narrowed her eyes. "Shush."

"Shush?" He pried her hand from his mouth but did not release it. Instead he turned it over, his eyes falling to the glimmering diamond engagement ring on her finger. "Do you love him?"

She hadn't expected the question and he knew it. "Of course I do."

His silver regard returned to her face. Whatever he saw there pleased him. "As a friend."

She frowned. No. Not as a friend, as a fiancé. "No, as a man."

Were his lips edging closer? His hand rose to her face and traced her jaw line. "A man that is a friend."

What did he just say? His forefinger and thumb clutched her chin. She would not be distracted and spoke with a level of calm she didn't feel. "A friend that is a fiancé." Oh lord, that didn't come out right at all.

"So 'tis to be a marriage of convenience." His throaty declaration brought his lips closer. Coira's eyelids suddenly became very heavy.

Her lips throbbed. "Is it not convenient to marry a friend?"Again, not what she intended to say.

His lips were within an inch of hers, brogue soft. "Aye, 'tis convenient enough, but what of passion?"

Visit Sky's Website HERE

Please join us now for Sky's book launch party - to win a download of 'Sylvan Mist' leave a comment - and answer this question - what do you think they're selling outside in the courtyard!

Friday, June 11, 2010

An Otherworldly Roast for Belinda McBride

"SS Muse calling all ships in the Muse Planetary System. Please bring your invitations with you. There is a prize to be won! A brand new space cruiser!!

The SS Muse will be beaming guests in, using a specific order. We don't want the Bassonery Worm Eaters near the Slimonian Worm species, so please come in the order specified on your invitations. See you on the ship!"

Captains Lyn, Sharon and Mary are on the teletransporter deck ready to greet guests as they beam aboard.Fantasy 
Comments They are all dressed differently.Fantasy CommentsMary is in a wonderful, flowing, pale lilac, floor length, creation by a Sweetonian designer. Lyn is in a beautiful, shimmering, cobalt blue, floor length creation by a Celticonian
Commentsdesigner, and Sharon is in a fantastic, enticing, pink, floor length, clingy, Tramponian designer.
She has just the petite, willowy, figure for it, from the front. In the back it barely makes it over her...well you know.

Lyn grabs Sharon, who has tripped over her platform shoes. "I told you not to wear those," Lyn yells as she struggles to lift the willowy, ahem, Sharon from the floor. Mary takes her other arm, helps to yank her to her feet, tears off Sharon's shoes then hands them to her. Both of them pull Sharon along as they race through the ship to get to the lounge.

They spent days decorating it to please Belinda. Junior and Cuddles dressed in their own little uniforms race ahead of the girls.

Luckily they all arrive before Belinda. Standing at the doorway to the lounge they smooth their wrinkled dresses ready for another roast.

Space cadets from The United Universe of Galactic nations, line the walkways as a salute to all alien species and also to keep them in line. Guests have been arriving at an incredible rate. Everything from the invisible Blankonians to the large tree like Ficusonians. The ship is overflowing with all kinds of creatures, all clamoring for Belinda to arrive and greet them.

Fantasy CommentsMonsters CommentsMonsters CommentsMonsters CommentsFantasy Comments
Applause thunders through the transporter deck as Belinda and her entourage arrive. Three massive, blue Hunkonians; one picks her off the pad and guides her through the clapping, and feet stamping, aliens, to the deck where her massive party is taking place. there are some strange creatures here for sure!

The cacophony is overwhelming.

Oliver looks regal in his SS Muse uniform. He's the hostesses' First Officer and responsible for the array of food from every corner of the universe. He's outdone himself. Wine from Grapeonia, fruits from Earth, deserts from the Planet Sucrose, and dishes from every orb in the galaxy...
Image Ref: 09-09-34 - Party Food, Viewed 5381 timesImage Ref: 09-22-51 - Sunday Lunch, Viewed 8738 timeschampagneImage Ref: 09-23-27 - Meringue Nest, Viewed 14322 timesfruit basket Belinda makes her entrace, with her entourage of galactic guards dressed in United Universe uniforms. Belinda is wearing an otherworldly, unbelievable, shimmering, white gown. She waves her arms to her guests in the large lounge of the SS Muse.

"Welcome one and all. Let's raise a toast for everyone! My friends I have a new release for your perusal. To my readers!! Hurrah!!
Now everyone join the party, help yourself to the wonderful fare and beverages. Party on my friends!!"

Don't forget to make a comment to win the contest by answering the question: What planet did Spock retire on and why?

Marshal Annabelle "Cowgirl" Oakley is the best law enforcement officer in Interstellar
Coalition Enforcement. With her wolf Tucker at her side, Belle is clearly the best man for the job. Unfortunately, the job comes with hazards, and one of those hazards comes in the shape of tall, mysterious Armand.

Armand de le Croix is a werewolf with amnesia. He has no idea how he came to be living in Coalition space, he doesn't know where his people are, or why his inky black hair is now snowy white. He just knows that the tall, dangerous redhead is all that he wants, and he means to have her regardless of what he must do to win.
When they meet, it's magic. When they part, it's mayhem.

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations some readers may find objectionable...

Purchase (Publisher)Amazon paperback: