Do you have something to celebrate? Whether it's a Birthday, New Release, or something else

Do you have something to celebrate? Whether it's a Birthday, New Release, or something else - Book your Celebration Roasting Bash now ! BUT FIRST PLEASE READ OLIVER'S RULES !

P
lease Note:
We don't do reviews or interviews. just virtual parties to promote your book!

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, July 30, 2010

Autumn Jordon Takes Paris by Storm!


The evening in Paris is a wonderful thing indeed. Mary, Lyn and Sharon are dressed to the nines! Sharon in a short black dress that shows off her fantastic legs. She's ready to dance the night away. Lyn looks fabulous in a sequined blue blouse and jeans, her tiny waist enhanced by the black belt she chose. Mary loves her emerald empire waist evening boustierre. It's shows off her best asset, perfectly. Her jeans fit like a glove.
Women CommentsWomen Comments 
Women Comments

 "I love this place," exclaims Lyn. "Did you know that the French are the best kissers? That's why it's called French Kissing!"

Mary and Sharon look at each other and crack up laughing. Mary hugs Lyn. "Yes, sister dear, that's nice."


The French are so friendly and the hostesses have spent the day sightseeing. They have been to the Tower, strolled down the Champs Elysees, saw the Arc de Triumphe and taken a boat cruise on the Seine.
They spent some time in the country. Lovely wild flowers bloom along the roadsides and the air is filled with the scent of fresh cut grass and honeysuckle. They are thrilled to be in Paris.
They've decided on a simple fare. Imported cheeses from all over the world, beautiful trays of fresh fruits line the tables, fresh crispy french bread and crackers wait for eager guests.



The drink special today features Oliver's delicious Martinis, every kind from Chocolate to traditional. They are staying at the Gare de Lyon Hotel and, again in front of the massive mirror in one fancy bathroom, they shove and push to get their makeup on. Sharon has bought makeup for all of them from a street vender and little do they know what ingredients are in it. There could be some trouble with that?
"These huge penthouse rooms are wonderful don't you think Sharon?" Mary sits and watches Sharon as she sprays herself with Samsara. Lyn chooses Sung, and hands Mary her favorite, Wings. Lyn sprays so much Sung in the bathing room, that their eyes start to tear up.

A knock at the door to the huge suite and Oliver yells out to warn them the guests are arriving.

At the door is the guest of honor, Autumn Jordan. She is dressed in a lovely cashmere tunic sweater, calf length jeans and she is barefoot. As a matter of fact everyone is barefoot. "You leave your shoes at the door," Lyn points out to the guests. Autumn curls up, on the corner of a sprawling couch and accepts the Martini from Oliver.


Oliver offers Autumn her 'Midnight In Paris' Martini, his deep voice, sexy, and having spent time in France he uses his best French accent. His warm voice pauses and then he offers Autumn her book.

"Could you autograph this for me." He takes Autumn's hand and kisses it. Then he leaves to bring out the lovely cake he baked for her. It looks yummy and Lyn has to drag Mary away from it, while Sharon swipes a dollop on her finger and smiles at the sweet, tasty, confection.

Several of the guests are locals. Their rich French accents fill the air. The girls are elated.


"Everyone please may I have your attention?" Sharon calls to the crowd. Voices drop off and Sharon goes on.

"This lovely gathering is to celebrate the release of Autumn Jordan's wonderful new book, Evil Witness." She holds it up for everyone to see. "Please pick up your copies and have Autumn sign them before you leave."

The crowd begins to speak again and soft music and voices drown out Sharon's last words. "Let the celebration begin!"

Little does anyone know, Lyn is undercover. Working for the Lourvre, she is searching for a stolen DiVinci painting, and someone in this room has it.

Do you know who has the Museums painting and how can we catch them?


Autumn Jordon, a quiet nut with a reputation for finding trouble,  lives with her husband along the Appalachian Trail in northeast Pennsylvania. Crafting stories has always been part of her life. While in fourth grade, her first novel sold three copies.   When not writing or blogging at www.autumnjordonsnotes.blogspot.com  and her sisters blogs, she enjoys her friends, great books, her garden, hiking, traveling with DH. She loves meeting new people and making new friends. Visit her at www.autumnjordon.com

EVIL'S WITNESS

2009 GOLDEN HEART Finalist
Evil's Witness 
Obsessed By Wild Fire
The Wild Rose Press/B&N/Amazon
www.autumnjordon.com


Blurb:
 
Stephanie Boyd’s world crashes when she and her children witness a blood bath. To escape the wrath of the Russian Mafia, she has no choice but to help the FBI uncover the mafia’s mole inside the U.S. Treasury. While on the run with the handsome agent who is willing to die for them, Stephanie learns the meaning of love.

Agent John Dolton’s break in solving the case that cost him everything is a couple of kids and a beautiful widow. But keeping them safe seems impossible when their every move is foreseen by their enemy.  Stephanie and her children soften the loner’s heart and John vows not to fail to protect the family he comes to love.


 
EXCERPT

“Are you going to tell me what Ben Stover had to say?” She dreaded hearing the news he’d learned. It couldn’t be good. He would’ve told her good news immediately.

“They lifted the prints from the guy at the mall and ran them through the system. Ben had a hit. A small time thief named Doug Antonelli, a.k.a. Dog. So you were right about his name. But, we haven’t had any luck searching the data banks for a Victor, yet.”

She held on to a glimmer of hope. “You think you will though?”

He nodded. “This guy didn’t just fall to earth with a plan to rob the U.S. Treasury of millions. He has to have come from somewhere—have some kind of record. We’ll find him. It’s just going to take some time.”

“I won’t be stupid and ask how much?”

“I appreciate that.” He smiled. As if realizing for the first time that she was washing dishes, he said, “I told you I’d do those, Steph.”

She’d noted before he’d shortened her name. She kind of liked the nickname.

“That’s okay. This is therapy.” Stephanie shrugged and smiled at him as she rinsed another plate. “After the last twenty-four hours, I really needed to do something normal.”

“I understand. I do the same thing when I’m done with a case.”

Her hands stilled under the warm water. “You do?”

“You look surprised.” He set his mug down, snatched the tea towel from the counter and started to dry the dishes from the rack.

Gene had never helped her with the dishes.

She washed and John dried. It was kind of nice standing side by side, talking, even though some of their conversation dealt with their lives being at stake. But there was something about a man wearing a gun, drying dishes that struck her as funny. Especially a barefooted one.

She chuckled and he looked confused. “What?

“I’m sorry. It’s just you’re FBI.” Her cheeks warmed, again, the moment the idiotic words spilled from her mouth.

“We have lives too. We don’t wait in sterile closets for the next case.” He laughed with her.

She liked his laugh and the way his eyes sparkled.

“Well, actually, I sort of had this picture of you in a smoke filled room, playing cards, waiting for the call. Then going to the sterile room to be briefed on the high-tech gadgets you’ll use on your mission.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t played cards in years.”

“Oh, I see. That’s the only part wrong?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Hmm.” Stephanie’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought for sure John would hear it over the steady stream of tap water.

He wore no ring. She wanted to ask him if there was a Mrs. Dolton, but she didn’t have the nerve.

“Are you going to tell me what Ben Stover had to say?” She dreaded hearing the news he’d learned. It couldn’t be good. He would’ve told her good news immediately.


“They lifted the prints from the guy at the mall and ran them through the system. Ben had a hit. A small time thief named Doug Antonelli, a.k.a. Dog. So you were right about his name. But, we haven’t had any luck searching the data banks for a Victor, yet.”


She held on to a glimmer of hope. “You think you will though?”


He nodded. “This guy didn’t just fall to earth with a plan to rob the U.S. Treasury of millions. He has to have come from somewhere—have some kind of record. We’ll find him. It’s just going to take some time.”


“I won’t be stupid and ask how much?”


“I appreciate that.” He smiled. As if realizing for the first time that she was washing dishes, he said, “I told you I’d do those, Steph.”


She’d noted before he’d shortened her name. She kind of liked the nickname.


“That’s okay. This is therapy.” Stephanie shrugged and smiled at him as she rinsed another plate. “After the last twenty-four hours, I really needed to do something normal.”


“I understand. I do the same thing when I’m done with a case.”


Her hands stilled under the warm water. “You do?”


“You look surprised.” He set his mug down, snatched the tea towel from the counter and started to dry the dishes from the rack.


Gene had never helped her with the dishes.


She washed and John dried. It was kind of nice standing side by side, talking, even though some of their conversation dealt with their lives being at stake. But there was something about a man wearing a gun, drying dishes that struck her as funny. Especially a barefooted one.


She chuckled and he looked confused. “What?


“I’m sorry. It’s just you’re FBI.” Her cheeks warmed, again, the moment the idiotic words spilled from her mouth.


“We have lives too. We don’t wait in sterile closets for the next case.” He laughed with her.


She liked his laugh and the way his eyes sparkled.

“Well, actually, I sort of had this picture of you in a smoke filled room, playing cards, waiting for the call. Then going to the sterile room to be briefed on the high-tech gadgets you’ll use on your mission.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t played cards in years.”

“Oh, I see. That’s the only part wrong?”


“Well, yeah.”

“Hmm.” Stephanie’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought for sure John would hear it over the steady stream of tap water.

He wore no ring. She wanted to ask him if there was a Mrs. Dolton, but she didn’t have the nerve.





Friday, July 23, 2010

Nancy Cohen gets roasted on the Bartlett Space Station

"We're nearly there!"

The hostesses, Mary, Sharon and Lyn, gather around the observation port, barely able to contain their excitement.

Hanging in the starry void like a huge, bejewelled casket, is the Bartlett station This space station belongs to the privately owned Hoatch Foundation, a scientific firm that transcends planetary boundaries. They've arranged a party on the station for the author Nancy Cohen. Many interesting intergalactic personalities have been invited, including the main characters from her book 'Silver Serenade', Silver Malloy herself, and Jace Vernon.

Oliver was probably a little miffed when he found out that the station's cuisine is handled by Botdrones. He has created a special celebration cake though, and is the only one who can fly the hostesses' little space cruiser, so no doubt he'll end up taking charge and supervising the botdrones!
"I'm quite looking forward to sampling some different interstellar food," Sharon says, reading the small holographic menu which conveys images of the actual food, along with its origins and description:
Anhunda: A type of meaty fish, usually farmed like tilapia, and Mantay Fish: Tasty wild fish caught at sea; then there are Bangleberries, Marlberries: A juicy berry like a mulberry and
Pava Melon: A sweet fruit grown in tropical climate on Stacktown.

Krellian Steak: Tender meat from range-fed Krellian cattle.

Capsilon Spice Sticks: A valued spice used for flavoring,Chaklah Bread: A loaf of egg bread like Challah.
Fried Sorgut Bellies: Popular junk food, Mog Soup: A nourishing soup on Elusia made from brookworms, Peratoes: Root vegetable like a potato grown on Kurash, and Pickled Ochart’s Tongue: A delicacy made from the tongue of an ochart beast found in the outer provinces.

The bar offers such exotic beverages as Melarian Brandy: A prized brandy from the mountain province on Melaria, Stentorian wine: A common label red wine made from a blend of grapes and other fruit from Stentoria’s extensive vineyards. and Talusican Ale: A popular type of ale.

"Don't think I fancy the mog soup," Mary says, the other stuff looks very appetizing though."

"Mmmmm wonder if they have any Anraatian mead?" Lyn murmurs.
On the space station, Silver and Jace stride down the main concourse lined with shops and bars. They enter a lounge where a boisterous crowd gathers to celebrate their defeat of the evil terrorist, Tyrone Bluth. The heady scent of Talusican ale mingles with pungent smoke from outlawed joyfa bars. In a corner sit a couple of rangy Dorians with their speckled skin and hostile glares. Everyone steers clear of their table. Two Elusians wave to Silver and Jace to join them at a long table. This slim-shouldered pair wear robes that change color with their emotions. Right now, they show tangerine to radiate affection. A blue-skinned Sarcoid female grins a greeting. They input their orders into a screen at the table and a botdroid delivers their drinks.

Silver is dressed in a jumpsuit, her favorite TechVix LD-6 Sharpshooter Special laser rifle slung over her shoulder. She has platinum hair which she wears in a tight braid down her back, and violet eyes.

Jace wears a linen shirt under a vest, leather pants, and polished black boots. He has a patrician nose and a jaw set at an arrogant pitch. Jet black hair sweeps in tousled waves to his nape. He carries a Laker Super 7 laser pistol tucked into his waistband.


The hostesses arrive in the lounge, trying not to stare too hard at Silver and Jace, who acknowledge them with a casual wave. Oliver carries the special celebration cake he's made for Nancy, They spot the table laid ready for the Guest of Honor, Nancy Cohen and Oliver places the cake in position.

Suddenly everything goes dark. For a moment there is a stunned and apprehensive silence, then a scintillating purple haze slowly forms, solidifying to reveal the stunning sight of Nancy, in the most amazing, shimmering gown which seems to glow with a purple fire within the fabric. Her hair is swept up in an exotic style that defies artificial gravity.

There is rapturous applause, then the lights brighten, and holographic words appear on the bulkhead behind her, revealing the secrets of her latest book 'Silver Serenade'.
A beautiful assassin and a desperate fugitive join forces to catch a
terrorist and prevent an intergalactic war.

Blurb:
Ace pilot Jace Vernon is forced to flee his home world after being framed
for murder. He seeks justice, but S.I.N. agent Silver Malloy gets in his
way. The platinum-haired beauty counters his every move in the quest to
clear his name. As he makes it his mission to break her, he doesn't count on the personal consequences of success.

Silver refuses to abort her deadly mission even if it means killing the one
man Jace needs alive to prove his innocence. Her resolve wavers when Jace's charms melt the barriers around her heart. Can she help him win his case, even if it means betraying her own people?

EXCERPT

Despite the coolness of the woods, sweat dribbled down the back of Silver Malloy's neck. Her muscles ached from hours spent in a crouched position, but stealth mattered more than comfort. She'd waited for this opportunity for months-no, make that years-and wasn't about to lose it due to a lapse in technique. This first kill might be her last, but at least she'd complete her revenge.

Using her rifle scope, she scanned the dusty street that stretched below her hillside vantage point. The few scruffy inhabitants who trudged between the ramshackle buildings didn't interest her. A lucky tip had brought her to Al'ron, a watering hole for space travelers. Those who visited here were not often welcome elsewhere. They came to buy arms, men, and equipment to carry out lawless raids against innocent victims, and Tyrone Bluth had earned the reputation as the cruelest bandit of all.

Silver couldn't wait to end his reign of terror.

Raucous bird cries and the drone of insects rang in her ears, augmented by the auditory sensors in her gold drop earrings. She ignored them-her concentration centered on the only saloon in town.

Squinting, she watched the set of double swinging doors, eager for the slightest hint of movement. The spicy scent of tangleberries tickled her nose. She stifled a sneeze, unwilling to lose focus, even for a moment.

Someone staggered from the saloon. Her pulse accelerated as she recognized Bluth, the leader of Tyrone's Marauders. He sported a wide-brimmed black hat, militia-style clothes, and a weapons belt bristling with armaments. A hostile scowl creased his ugly face, a face that had haunted her dreams
forever.

Shutting one eye, she took careful aim through the targeting sight of her TechVix LD-6 Sharpshooter Special.

Her gut clenched, and she steeled herself to fire. Just as her finger twitched on the trigger, a shadowy figure dove into her. The impact knocked her to the ground. She dropped the rifle, but not before it discharged a
wild shot.

A heavy weight toppled across her body, forcing her spine down against the packed earth. Tiny pebbles dug into the small of her back. Brittle pine needles pierced her skin. So much for the protective jumpsuit she'd worn.

"Let me up." She shoved at the bulk immobilizing her. Unable to break free, she aimed a string of expletives toward the man whose furious green eyes glared down at her.

"Who the devil are you?" he demanded, his thick dark brows inched together in an angry scowl.

"I could ask you the same." Silver's hand scrabbled in the dirt, searching for her fallen weapon. "Are you one of Bluth's men?"

"No." His thighs pressed her firmly to the ground.

"Then get off me so I can finish what I started."

"Only after you tell me why you're here."

Panic seized her as she faced the possibility of failure. "All I need is one clear shot, then we'll talk." She thrust at his broad chest, but he wouldn't budge.

"If you're worried about Bluth getting away, it's too late."

"What?" Silver lifted her head to peer over the crest of the hill. Sure enough, Tyrone Bluth was nowhere in sight.

The villain had torn apart everything meaningful in her life, and now she'd lost her chance to even the score.

Silver Seranade
Available from THE WILD ROSE PRESS

Author Bio
Nancy J. Cohen is a multi-published author who began her publishing career
writing futuristic romances. Her first title, CIRCLE OF LIGHT, won the HOLT
Medallion Award. After four books in this genre, she switched to mysteries
to write the popular Bad Hair Day series featuring Florida hairdresser Marla
Shore, who solves crimes with wit and style under the sultry Florida sun.
Several of these titles made the IMBA bestseller list. PERISH BY PEDICURE
and KILLER KNOTS are the latest books in this series. Active in the writing
community and a featured speaker at libraries and
conferences, Nancy is listed in Contemporary Authors, Poets & Writers, and Who's Who in U.S. Writers, Editors & Poets.


Nancy J. Cohen
Silver Serenade: A Futuristic Romance released July 2010
Killer Knots: A Bad Hair Day Mystery
http://nancyjcohen.com
http://nancyjcohen.wordpress.com

QUESTION: How many Dorians does it take to put the lights out? Leave your answer or comment to be in the running for a download of Nancy's book.

Friday, July 16, 2010

A Seasonal Celebration for Roseanne Dowell


'Deck the halls with balls of holly, tralalalala lala la la"

The three hostesses are nearly falling over themselves as they skurry around busily putting the finishing touches to the Christmas decorations, while the sun streams through the windows of the old house.

Wait a moment - have the hostesses and Oliver gone completely nuts! It's July for goodness sake!

The large dining room is covered in Christmas candles, decorations and fairy lights, with a large Christmas tree with a stack of
presents beneath. There is a holly wreath on the half opened door, and a Christmas tree on the doorstep. What is going on?

Well, you see, it's Roseanne Dowell's Celebration Roast - and we're having 'Christmas in July'! Don't worry about the sunshine and lack of snow though. The house backs onto the beach, so after Christmas dinner we might all go down to the beach for a swim.

In the kitchen, Oliver, with his Santa hat on and holly pinned to his shirt, is putting out the glasses while making sure the roast chicken, rack of pork chops and beef roast are cooked to perfection.









 He's also keeping an eye on the vegetables, fresh garden peas, carrots, and parslied potatoes.

In the walk in refrigerator is a large ice cream cake, suitably decorated with Christmas bells and Roseanne's cover, and a generous sprinkling of 'hundreds and thousands'. There is also a chocolate Christmas pudding, and a delicious light and creamy triple chocolate desert.
Of course, being Christmas, in July, there has to be a seasonal fruit punch, and for something with a 'kick' Oliver is ready to serve Roseanne's favourite tipples, Chocolate martini and Fuzzy navels.


As usual, the magic of the Roast (or was it fairy dust from Cuddles horn?) has performed it's wonders and the three are at their most glamorous selves. Lyn sits and pulls on her red slippers over her little feet. For once she has shoes that actually fit her, rather than the ones several sizes too big for her the hostesses usually make her wear - well it is Christmas! (sort of).

Mary admires herself in the mirror. Riiiiiiiiip! Ooops the strain of her enhanced chest is just too much for the skimpy red Santa outfit.

She blushes and tries in vain to pull the two halves of her bodice together. "Here." Sharon says, passing her a large white bow and a needle and thread. "Try that." While Mary holds the bow over her chest, Sharon swiftly stitches it in place. She steps back. "There." she says. "All done." That should hold as long as you don't breathe out!"

Sharon dances off to see if Oliver's finished in the kitchen. She looks chic in a red Santa hat and short, flared dress, which just manages to skim over her curvaceous figure, and cover her purty bubblebutt.
There's a clatter of hooves in the courtyard. Oliver presses a switch and although it's still daylight, the floodlights illuminate the courtyard and the fairylights twinkle in the trees. Oliver, the hostesses and all the guests rush to the door. A Cinderella coach drawn by two white horses pulls up, and out steps

Roseanne, looking like a fairy tale Christmas Prncess in a white silk blouse with a long, rose colored flowing silk skirt, a diamond tiara on her head and a diamond necklace and bracelet. She pauses to talk to the horses, before Oliver holds out his arm and escorts her to the dining hall. Merry Christmas everyone, the party's about to begin!
For a chance to win a download of her book, 'Time to Live Again', leave a comment and perhaps you could answer this question - if there are twelve days of Christmas in December, how many are there in July?

While the guests are settling into their seats and Oliver makes sure Roseanne's glass is filled and she has a plentiful helping of everything, let's hear more about her and her book 'Time To Live Again'. If we're lucky we may be treated to a trailer as well.

Roseanne is the mother of six, grandmother of thirteen with another on the way and soon to be great grandmother. She teaches writing classes at Long Story Short Writing School - www.lsswritingschool.com You can find more of Roseanne’s work at Amazon.com, just type in her name. Besides writing, Roseanne enjoys reading, quilting, ceramics, and making jewelry. She’s a member of NEORWA.


Time to Live Again-

Fifty-eight year old, Rose Asbury knows people think she’s a recluse, but she doesn’t care. She just wants to be left alone. She doesn’t need anyone, and no one needs her and that’s just fine. At least she didn’t until this year. For some reason this year is different. Suddenly she’s melancholy and discontent with her life.

And the man next door doesn’t help matters. Every time he sees her, he insists on speaking to her. Not to mention the little girl next door and her friends who begin harassing Rose. Rose knows she couldn’t be the man’s daughter. He’s much too old.

To make matters worse, Rose's sister comes back. Back to haunt her that is.

Excerpt




Doesn’t that man ever stay in the house? Rose slammed her car door and tried to ignore the man next door. She wished he’d let her get away without trying to talk to her, just once. But why should this time be any different? She lowered her head and hurried toward her house. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation. At least not with him.

“Hello, Rose, uh...Mrs. Asbury.” He dropped his snow shovel, grabbed something from his garage and hurried toward her.

His relaxed, tall, lean body in a denim jacket and jeans caused a stir of excitement in her. Even his graying temples aroused something in her that she found way too familiar. Stirred up feelings she didn’t want stirred up. She barely glanced at him, yet she felt a tug on her heart.

Darn! Rose pulled her coat closed against the cold wind. Why didn’t he just leave her alone? You’d think by now he’d realize she didn’t care to talk to him. Her stomach fluttered, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Hunger pangs, or nerves, that’s all. She nodded a hello, like always, and hurried to her house.

Suddenly, Rose’s feet slid out from under her. Splat! She landed on her butt, fell back and hit her head. Groceries flew everywhere. Oh crap, just what she needed. She looked up into the gray eyes of the man leaning over her.

“Are you all right?”

Heat rose to her face. Other than humiliated, she was fine. A bit sore, but she didn’t think she had any broken bones. She tried to sit up.

AUTHOR ROAST AND TOAST

AUTHOR ROAST AND TOAST
authorroast@btinternet.com
WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE OUR GUEST? DO YOU WANT TO PROMOTE YOUR NEW RELEASE OR EVEN AN OLDER ONE?IF YOU FANCY BEING GUEST OF HONOUR AT ONE OF OUR PARTIES JUST EMAIL US AT THE ADDRESS in 'OLIVER'S RULES'!(PLEASE NOTE THIS IS A 'G' RATED BLOG SO NOTHING HIGHER THAN THIS RATING, PLEASE.)