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, September 16, 2011

On Death Island with Joan Afman

Hello and welcome to the AUTHOR ROAST AND TOAST! Join us today for a dose of primitive 'Reality' as we take you deep in the jungle  with JOAN AFMAN to celebrate her book DEATH ISLAND

The hostesses four file out of the jungle tent in silent fear to form the human totem pole. Cast away on an island off the coast of Africa, the jungle heat unbearable, the scorching sun relentless. The sisters wear as little as possible, loin cloths and bras, the heat is maddening.

ATLAS PARKER is the foundation of the totem pole, her massive arms stretched upward to protect the sisterhood. BIG FOOT LYN is next on the pole, huge boots shielding the pack from harm, ready to kick butt for her tribal sisters.MELON-BALLS RICKSEN is next, jolly hooters bouncing as easy targets for the game, willing to sacrifice a little skin for her soul sisters. BUBBLE BUTT DONOVAN is on top, her asset facing the tribes, HOT LIPS in silent prayer, as she wiggles and squirms, bracing for the pinches to save her island sisters.
Cuddles, Nibby and Hampy keep vigil, ready to fiercely protect their own, teeth beared, unicorn horn sharpened.
Despite the heat, Oliver, bound and determined to protect the family jewels from the primitive inmates, is wearing jeans and cool white cotton t-shirt as he grills before the stone pit.

Tribal delicacies consist of raw snake appetizers, barbequed monkey paws, roasted vulture, goat-brain stew. Assorted tropical fruits and root veggies, home made strong brew--wines, beers made from potatoes or beans line the table made from tree limbs.

Bongo drums pound to the wild beat of suspense. The inmates will be dropped off any minute on  the primitive tropical island, killers, psychopaths and perverts, all condemned felons, coy, cunning and extremely dangerous. The monkeys have gone ape, shrieking like banshees as they hurl coconuts from the trees in wild disarray. 
Cheetas and jaguars prowl for prey. Gators splash through the lagoon, poisonous snakes slither and slide in the grass and huge vultures circle above. The anticipation mounts, the air oppressed with decay, sweat and the pungent odor of over-ripe bananas.
          The sound of propellers horrify the hostesses. They gape upward in astonishment into the blinding sun, squinting and shielding their eyes. Screeching like wild warriors, the motley crew drop from the sky by parachute, cat calling and blowing kisses to the hostesses as they land, filthy rotten to the core, dirty and unshaven, ruthless and toothless, scraggly and smelly, cussing like sailors but ever-smiling. The insane inmates have been sentenced to play the game of survivor on

Shrill cat calls erupt as the glamorous JOAN AFFMAN, the island mascot, in charge of quizzing the inmates for this deadly game of which there is no escape. Dressed in violet loin cloth, bra and tribal head dress of white feathers and purple rocks, she begins the questioning, directed at each inmate. The gruesome motley crue will divide into two tribes to play against the sisterhood. With no further ado, Joan clears her throat and begins round one.

What would be the wildest, craziest thing you would do to get off this island?

What skills did you bring with you that would make you a worthy tribe member for your team?

Why do you feel you could outsmart the other inmates?

Would you revert to cannibalism if it meant your only means of survival?

What is your primary motivation for escape?

Let the fun begin!



      Wrongly convicted of the brutal murder of his wife, Danny Manning
is exiled to Death Island, the site of America’s favorite reality show.
Death Island is Hell disguised as Paradise, a place where no one gets
off alive unless the audience vote goes his way.
            Danny’s day to day survival depends on a brilliant and hilarious
Psychopath who knows the ropes. But his ultimate fate lies in the hands
Of a clergyman’s quirky wife, a smarmy TV host, and Death Island’s fickle
Home viewers.  If voted “off the island”, he will be free, innocent or not.
      Can he stay alive that long?  And will he ever discover the identity
Of the real murderer?
“Look, Man,” Martin said.  “Ever read ’Lord Of The Flies” when you were in high school?  Well, this is it for real. Survival of the fittest, so you’d better learn the rules of the game.”

            “Why are you bothering with us?” Tom asked. “Safety in numbers?”
            Danny noticed the faint upturn of Martin’s mouth, as he curbed a grin.  Looking at Tom’s fat, flabby body, he could understand that Tom wouldn’t be much help in a fight. Still he might possess other assets they could use.

            “You two look like regular dudes,” said Martin.  “I’ve watched you since you dropped, and I thought to myself, ’why are these two here?’  I decided to find out. I watched you, followed you, observed.  It gets lonely here, and a lot of the trash that’s dropped here I wouldn’t want to hang with  anyway.  Most of them don’t make it long. Javonne gets to them, or--”  he broke off, as if sure whether or not to continue.

            “Or what?” asked Danny, not at all sure he wanted to know.

            Martin ripped open another health bar.  “There are two main factions here,”  he began.  Tom listened, looking paler and more terrified with each word.  Danny absorbed his tale with a keen ear.  He stared at the mushroom camera, wondering bleakly if even now they were being observed and listened to.

            Martin went on describing the two groups.  “One bunch is a gang of loose in-fighters, no rules. When they manage to ferment enough rotten fruit to get a big drunk on, they get all gussied up, like, and pretend they’re a tribe of Indians, war paint and all, or a band of Vikings. They go a drunken rampage, looting, plundering and pillaging, and if there’s anything to rape, they will.”

            “oh my God!” gurgled Tom.  His hands went to his butt, protectively.

            “Sometimes they make a raid on the Villagers--”

            The Villagers?”  Danny was incredulous.
            “Yep,”  Martin went on.  “The other bunch has built an actual town, rough houses and all, and most of them are paired up like couples.  “They’re the ones that miss the ordinary, civilized life the most.  You might want to join them, if you can make the adjustment.”  He laughed.

            Tom made a strangled noise in his throat.

            Martin looked at him.  “They’re always looking for fresh meat,”  he said, grinning.    

    Tom turned about as pale as Danny thought he could turn without becoming a ghost.  The man was positively white with fear. 

            Martin unwrapped another peanut-butter bar and let them absorb what he had told them.  Danny saw Tom shudder with revulsion, as they both recalled what one of the guards had said to Tom on the plane.

            “I don’t want to end up somebody’s--uh, bitch,” choked Tom. He could hardly say the word.

            Martin shrugged.  “Easy enough.  Stay out of their way.”

            “Are they coming after us?” asked Tom suddenly.
            “Naw,” said Martin.  “They saw you drop, yeah, but they’re way out on the end of the Island, the Tribe in the cliffs on the west end, the Villagers on a mesa on the east. They’re a good fifty miles away.  By the time they got here, they know you’d have found a safe place.”

            “Well, that’s a relief,” Tom said.

            “But there are the lone rangers, I call ’em,” said Martin.  “The solitary guys who go it alone or band in groups of two or three.  They can be anywhere, and they will attack for the food and the clothes.”
            Danny grunted.  “Have to watch out for them then.”
            “And the snakes,”  Martin continued, “and there are jungle animals--apes, some kind of big cat--a cheetah or jaguar, I guess.”  He shrugged.  “And other stuff.  All you can say is, it beats the hell out of the gas chamber.”   

My mother, a former English teacher, said to me many time, in a
rather plaintive voice, "I think you could write!"

I used to say,
"I know I can write, Ma, I just don't have anything to say."
Also, I was head over heels in love with art--which my high school didn't offer--and was determined to pursue that.
I had a wonderful art career, as a retail artist, an art teacher, a college adjunct.  I painted the cover for :Death Island".
But--half a century later, maybe I do have something to say!  I don't know where my ideas come from--but they pretty much arrive full-blown in my mind, then I just try to put them into words.  My mother, again, was the inspiration for "Death Island".  I remember her saying "I think they should just take all these violent murderers and rapists, drop them on an island somewhere, and let them fend for themselves."  Thanks, Mom!  You made a book happen!
Life has been a convoluted journey, with many ups and downs, but now-- retired in Florida, writing and painting, I'm as happy as I've ever been.

I have four adult children, all healthy and wonderful, six incredible grandchildren,and a host of wonderful friends, both old and new. I've been richly blessed.

...Where the improbable is a daily affair!
Visit www.secondlifejoanie.blogspot.com
Author of "The Last Time We Were Here" available
through Wingsepress or Amazon.com
and "Death Island", available NOW
through CamelPress or Amazon

To win a copy of Joan's book, all you have to do is just leave a comment and your e-mail address.
Contest ends tomorrow and everyone who comments is elligible.


  1. Good morning Joan,

    Welcome to your Celebration Roast. Sit in the shade and enjoy a drink of something cool!

  2. *Sweat pouring from her brow Patsy races to join the group*
    Whew, I've been working out, got to get ready for this! Uh, did anyone notice the other group... *She flexes her massive arms*
    No problem though, I've got this handled. Me! Naw, not hungrey right now. Well, maybe a slice of the vulture pie!
    Joan - welcome - the book sounds terrific, one I'd love to read! Congratulations on the release.

  3. I have read Death Island and it is one of the most intriguing and imaginative books I've read in a long time. Joan keeps the action going until the very end.

  4. P.S.Oops--I made a typo in my previous comment regarding my e-mail. It should read Palmaltas@aol.com

  5. Oh Oliver! Need any protection? I'm here for you, my love! Palmatas, I spelled "hungry" wrong in my first post - and I review legal documents for goodness sakes!
    I'm off and running. Have to outdistance the other team!

  6. Nice place to visit but, from the blurb and excerpt, don't think I'd want to live on Death Island. Sounds like a book I'd read though! Have fun with the wonderful hostesses of the Roast.

  7. Lyn runs to hug her sister hostess.

    Hi Patsy, I think your biceps are going to come in handy! Now where are Sharon and Mary hiding? I bet they're scoffing those barbequed monkey paws!

  8. EEEEEYOOOOOOO! I think I've been bitten by a snake! Anyone have a snakebite kit! And the mosquitos are as large as the vultures! *She clicks her ruby slippers*
    There's no place like home. There's no place like home.

  9. Hello Palmatas and Nightingale!

    Welcome to Joan's Roast! Yes, 'Death Island' sounds like an amazing read, although I agree I don't think I'd want to stay on the Island for long!

  10. Um, hate to tell you Patsy dear, those ARE vultures! Just don't stand still for too long! Don't worry about the snake bite, Cuddle's magic horn will cure anything!

  11. A warm welcome to your celebration, Joan. Death Island sounds like an intriguing read, minus the food LOL

  12. Huge hugs to my sisters, Lyn and Patsy! Hey, something huge just took a chunk out of my asset! OUCH

  13. Hi, Everybody--amazing and thrilling to see you all here! Let's have a tribal blast! How hungry are you? I have snails (escargot) with cocoanut oil, broasted rat tacos, and the best cold brew made from taro root that you will ever taste! We're here for life--so enjoy!

  14. Sounds wonderful Jane. . . My mouth is just watering! Can I pass on the rat tacos?

  15. Hi Pat and Nightingale, welcome. to Death Island, I'm not actually sure how the vulture pie is, ask Patsy, she's the designated taster, wink

  16. Rat tacos are served, my darling Joan...allow me to remove the sterling silver lid, wink
    What ever happened to Baby Joan, LOL

  17. Aren't you hungry yet? It's past noon, the sun is broiling, and it's time for lunch! Oliver, the rat tacos are sublime--I've never had better! The aroma is wafting on the breeze through the palm trees, and I'm sure the Tribe, fifty miles away, can smell them. They're probably getting ready for a raid. Watch your back--and front--and sides!

  18. Yikes! I certianly hope the aroma of cooking doesn't get as far as the Tribe, Joan. Sharon, Patsy - have you seen Mary around - we could certainly use her stun gun!

  19. Come and get it while it's hot, my pretties, line up now, don't be shy, Sharon, Lyn, Patsy, Mary, Pat and Nightingale, y'all see Joan smackin her lips, wink

  20. Mary trudges out of the jungle. Swearing a blue streak. Why, why, does this keep happening to me? I landed on the other side of the island and I'm here to tell you there are some strange dudes and dudettes here. I saw a naked old man streaking through the bushes, yelling, "The Russians are coming." I wish they would, maybe they'd have some better food to eat. Rat tacos! Yukkky!!!! Mary tries to flip her hair over her shoulder in a sexy way, then she realizes she has no long hair. I hate this place!! I haven't seen a hot guy since I dropped in. Get it, dropped in! LOL!

  21. Don't worry guys, Mary points to her holstered stun guy. Oliver this is one of those times they must be glad you gave it to me!
    ZZZZAAAAPPPP! Mary tests it out, works fine!!! Ready! Oliver stop laughing at me!

  22. Good aim Mary my sweet petite, now stun that rat on the taco, he's still alive grin

  23. *Shudder* Well, it's a good job you're OK Mary, had us worried for a minute there. And this is the first time I've ever been glad you have that there stun gun! :)

  24. *Patsy peeks from a tall stand of ferns*
    I'm being vewy vewy qwiet! Shhhhh, waiting for my chance to pounce on the other guys! I need a drink and these plants are itchy!

  25. Ummm... Patsy, that's poison Ivy! don't scratch so much, uh, oh, It's spreading. Your face looks kinda strange with all those little bumps on it...

  26. ARGGGGG! That's it! I'm swimming for help. Maybe the salt water will cure the itchies.

  27. You got a long swim. Here I got a bottle of caladryl. Mary hands the bottle to Patsy, who puts it on liberally. When she turns back to Mary, Mary screams in horror. Patsy's face has turned purple. Everywhere she used to stuff is purple! Look, she shows the bottle to Patsy. Oh no!!! It must be that horrid disease! Nothing will help the Mongolian Bongo Rot!!!!

  28. Oh no, not the dreaded Mongolian Bongo rot! Quick, Cuddles - here boy, your healing horn is needed - Cuddles - Cuddles? Anyone here seen Cuddles?

  29. Yeah, a little while ago. Hammy was on Nibby's back holding on for dear life. Cuddles, was leading the way as they chased something that tried to eat Hammy. They raced off thataway! I wonder if coating you with honey would help the itching?
    OOH! Did you see that?!?! What was it?

  30. WAAAAHHAAAAHAAAA - I have the Mongolian Bongo Rot! And my baby Hampy is food for the beasts!
    Joan - what should we do?

  31. That monkey bit my asset, just because I patted his paw, thought I wanted a snack, not so. Now the whole tribe of cheetas are after me, help sisters!

  32. Oh, Lord, Ladies--how do you get yourselves in such dangerous situations? Well, let's head for the Village. Evan, who used to be a vet until he shot a couple of kids who just wanted to pet his puppies, will have a cure for that rash. And while we're there, we can toast each other with a cold, tall grasshoper--green, minty and made with fresh grasshopers!

  33. Ok Joan, lead the way, as long as the cheeta tribe is sure not to follow, yikes

  34. I told you not to bring to catnip. and if I were you, I'd take it outta my pocket Sharon.
    Joan, do the villagers have any better food? Or am I gonna lose weight here?
    Nibby will take care of Hammy. He can hide in the fur on her neck. It's Oliver I worry about, he will go crazy if anyone tries to attack us,especially Sharon. I have to be careful with stun gun, don't wanna waste the juice that runs it@
    Hidey Ho!!!

  35. I see the village up ahead. Who is that good looking guy chopping the wood Joan? Nice butt, among other assets, and I hope there are a lot of other assets!

  36. Who could it be? Only Talon is that long and lean with the braid down his back... Cutting down trees? Might he have a plan to build a boat?

  37. "Death Island" is an amazing read... I'm now reading it for the second time! Danny not only has to watch out for the tribe and those wild animals, but also himself... How far would you go to prove your innocence?

  38. Welcome Sarah, do grab a bite of something if you dare, LOL or a beverage. Although the monkeys seem to have a fetish for the potato beer, scram, Cheeta!

  39. MMmmm - minty grasshopper - sounds delicious - I think!

  40. I don't know, but it would have to be a pretty big boat. How would it get past the immense waves and rocks?
    Maybe they are gonna have a barbeque?
    I shoulda worn jeans. I am being chased by a bee!! AAHHH! Bees! Run for your lives, Lyn stepped ona huge hive and they are coming this way RUN!!!!Help!!! Somebody, help!

  41. Hi Sarah,

    welcome to the Roast. Yes, Death Island does sound like a great read. I hope you have more power over the monkeys than we seem to have, LOL

  42. What effect does your stun gun have on bees, Mary?

    Uh oh, they're after Sharon and Patsy and me now. H-e-e-e-lp!

  43. Hungry again...I'm always hungry. Time for a mid-afternoon snack. How about goat cheese and fresh papaya slices with a honey dressing?
    Evan is quite a good cook---but he has to use what's on the island. Would you like a cheetah hamburger for dinner?

  44. None! It don't work on bees! HELP!!! These suckers swim. OH MY! They're Killer bees! OH NOOOOOOO!!!!!Mary falls into a hole in the ground. The bees continue to chase the others, whilst the rest run on, never hearing Mary's frantic screams!

  45. Phew, we seem to have lost those bees, thank goodness - wonder what frightened them off?

    Oh thanks Joan, that goats cheese with papaya and salad dressiang sounds wonderful - though I might skip the cheetaburgers for the moment! :)

  46. Joan put the papaya down and run! Watch out for the holes in the ground, they could contain wild animals, cheetas, bears, tigers, lions, Hammy...
    He has some temper! You don't want and angry Hampster!
    Where are those animals when you need them!

  47. Joan throw some goat cheese to the cheeta tribe they seem to have monkey fever, who knew they were so tempormental over a beer!

  48. OMG NOW BEES! Where's my tall grasshopper - I am assuming that is a drink and not another food dish! Oooooo, is that Evan? My oh my!

  49. Ooh Patsy, I think you're right - I thought for a minute there he was a mirage!

  50. Joan scream! There is a trail of monster ants following you, and running would help!

  51. Oh crumbs - quick where's the water, let's drown the little varmints!

  52. Oh crumbs - quick where's the water, let's drown the little varmints!

  53. Bongo rot?? Cheeseburgers I understand, lol. Great discussion on the island!

  54. Hi Traci,

    Welcome to the madness! LOL

    Cheeseburgers certainly sound a better option!

  55. I'll take one, where's Joan!!!!
    Hi Traci girl!

  56. I"m here...I'm here! The Village is just through those trees--then we'll all be safe! Talon came out scouting for us and said Evan is roasting a whole cheetah on a spit!
    Jake has his taro root beer chilling, and we're expecting Martin for dinner to entertain us. Who's Martin? He's the hilarious psychopath who burned up his abusive parents--and he just might get voted off the island this year! Heaven help us, if he's set loose!

  57. Hi Joan, phew, glad the ants didn't get to you.

    Um, supper sounds good, I'm prettyu peckish, all the fruit seems to have been eaten! I'm not so sure about the hosts and entertainer! :) Any chance of Danny coming over to protect us?

  58. Talon? I like the sound of that. Sounds so jungly sexy! Where is that Village. Is it like a modern Village or a really primitive one! At this point, I don't really care. Hampy where are you!!!!

  59. Mary saw the three little varmints chasing something a while ago, Patsy. Never mind, they'll come back when they're ready, Nibby is big enough to protect them - let's follow Sharon and Joan and get something to eat - I'm starving!

  60. Grilled Cheetah anyone? There's always cocoanuts! The familiars are returning. Hammy riding Nibby and Cuddles in the lead. Watch out!!!
    AAAAAHHHHHH! They are gonna run us over. They're chasing the ants!!!!

  61. Hi Traci, welcome to the madness. Join in on the tribal games

  62. Yikes, not the ants again, thought we'd got rid of them! Help, those three silly critters and driving the ants toward us - what do they think this is? Rawhide? Well, our hides will be raw if those ants get to us!

  63. A psychopath, oh boy, let me at him. LOL

  64. Atta girl, Sharon, go get 'em!

    Watch out for the ants though!!

  65. Look they chased them to water and the darn things made a chain across it and are coming full force. Look at the size of those suckers!!! Holy Shoot! Run for your lives. There's only one person who can help us and he'll never make it here! Who's gonna save us? Look Oliver it on that Island the little one and he's drinking Mead!!! Wait a minute he's laughing at us! My stun gun isn't touching the things. They just keep coming... Where's Patsy, is that her with Oliver and she has a cheeseburger!!!

  66. Mary, Sharon, Joan - Run! It looks like it's every woman for herself!
    Darn, where's a unicorn when you need him?

  67. *Munch, munch, munch*
    Oh YUM, this cheeseburger is delish! What's it made of? Did someone say Cheetah?
    ARGGGGHHH! I'm eating a kitty! I need some fermented coconut milk!

  68. That's what you get for dumping us alone here! HELP!!!! Their gaining on us!!! AHHH ouch, ouch, they're going after Sharon's butt. Lyn stopping that, and run you can't crush them all!!! RUN!

  69. Danny's a real nice guy, but I doubt we've had enough visitors to save him. Thanks so much, Mary, Sharon, Hyela Lyn and Patsy--this was a blast.
    However, do think I have indigestion from all this food I'm not used to eating, and all this tension.
    Evan, have you managed to make an Island Pepto-bismal?

  70. And as the sun sinks into the horizon, we all join hands and sing "Kumbya"

  71. The natives are restless and so is Sharon as she awakes. No sister hostesses or Joan to be found on the island. Were they all voted off, leaving her as the only surviver? Gulp. A familiar bellow, what a relief, Oliver's call of the wild for breakfast. Coming, darling.

  72. A warm thank you to all for dropping in to play with us, A special thank you to Joan for being such a delightful guest. Best of luck with DEATH ISLAND

  73. Breakfast for all survivers, fresh fruit and juice, banana pancakes and some kind of eggs, by the size, vultures, wink
    Here we go, Joan my pretty, you be the taster.

  74. Good morning. Think I would have to have a lot to drink to eat these and I do mean a lot. LOL.
    Tribal delicacies consist of raw snake appetizers, barbequed monkey paws, roasted vulture, goat-brain stew. Think I will just have some wonderful fruit. LOL. Joan your book sounds very interesting. I like the cover very much.
    Sue B

  75. Caravaaan - moving out into the sand --- oh I don't know where I'm going, but I'm go-o-oing!

    Who am I? where am I? what happened last night?

    'Morning Sharon, Morning Joan, Good morning Mary and Patsy, wherever you are, and good morning Sue, lovely to see you! Darling Oliver, ooh, just some fruit and juice please - think I'll pass on the eggs.

    Joan, you've been such a fun guest, and we wish you many, many sales with 'Death Island'.

  76. What a great roast! I can't talk long, I am still running from the ants. No one is helping me!!! HELP!!!
    These suckers are huge!!!
    Death Island rocked Joan, I loved it!!!


This is an interractive blog - please feel free to pop in and comment throughout the Roast as much as you like - and remember to leave your email address if you wish to be put in the draw to win this week's prize.