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COVER SUMMARY
SWEET WISHES, HOT DISHES
Seven Courses of Sin, by Anne
Leland
Hollywood 's top
food critic is waiting, and Tia's soon-to-be-ex husband,
Jake is at the door. The heat is rising, but can love sizzle
again in the kitchen of LeMesa?
Creole Temptations , by Emery LaRue
Timothy and Jessica heat up the kitchens of Creole
Temptations. Will their passionate cooking survive old
ghosts spoiling the hot dishes of their love?
Vacation of Desire , by Linda
White-Francis
Teri accepts a date for dinner with David. She worries -
will romance with a younger man be 'rocking the cradle' - or
rocking the boat?
Recipe for Seduction , by Tamara
James
Zara's thinks her scrumptious neighbor Jim needs
loosening up with some of her spicy cooking. She's got just
the right dish in mind for him.
Check It off the List, by Bridghid
Parkinson
Kayla met Gary, a chef, in her own backyard. Soon, she
discovers a savory way of adding adventure to life and
playing with her food.
His Own Taste, by Mae Powers
What happens when a woman stands up two men at the same
restaurant? Personal tastes for romance ensue with an
unexpected twist.
READ THE REVIEWS
Back to the Top
EXCERPT
SEVEN COURSES OF SIN
By
Anne Leland
CHAPTER ONE
The swordfish slapped against the counter with enough force
to send its icy scales screaming through the air.
Frozen.
Shit! This couldn’t be happening.
Less than an hour before the restaurant critic arrived and
what did Tia have? Fish popsicles, a crate of fresh
raspberries missing in action, and her soon-to-be-ex-husband
snickering at her from across the room.
Snickering. Jerk! He knew how important this review would
be. One mistake, one smidgeon of an error, and they
could kiss all their sheik California patrons goodbye. In
the middle of the downtown Hollywood district, you either
catered to the elite crowd, or the tourists and questionable
locals. No in-between existed. The third alternative was to
hang an “out of business” sign on the door and call it a
day.
She’d fought too hard to loose status now. Not to mention
blundering into financial ruin.
She wished she could walk over and cleave the smirk from his
face.
Who invited him anyway?
Jake’s fifty percent ownership of Le Mesa didn’t mean bunk
to her; he lost his entitlement to be involved in the
restaurant the day he walked out on their five-year
marriage. He promised to stay out of the way, out of her
place. So why, of all days, did he pick today to show up?
Who cared?
He didn’t care about her anymore. He made that point more
than painfully obvious eight months ago.
Eight months, two weeks, and three days to be exact. But who
was counting?
“Boil three pots of water pronto.” She picked up the fish
and waggled it in the direction of her assistant, Mac. “We
need all the steam we can get to defrost this bad boy. Nuke
defrost as a last resort, if you have to.”
Mac nodded, then waddled over to the corner stove. He always
came through for her.
Mac could be trusted.
She tried to glare daggers across the room at Jake, but she
was pretty sure she came off looking more like she’d
swallowed something bad.
Plopping the fish-icle back onto the counter, Tia walked to
the back of kitchen and ducked into her closet-slash-office.
No time to confront her ex. She had raspberries to hunt
down.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the Rolodex to find the
phone number for the supplier.
Who was she kidding?
She was too chicken-shit to even say simple “hello” to Jake.
One look into his cinnamon brown eyes would force her to
remember all the times she’d loved him. Or maybe all the
reasons she’d like to see him fry in a huge tub of turkey
fat. Either way, the outcome would be painful.
Tia plucked the card with the supplier’s phone number from
the Rolodex, then reached over to pry the drawer open from
the file cabinet squatting next to her desk, digging in
search of the invoice record.
Ouch! Damn!
A shard of metal scratched her finger. She really needed to
get new equipment. The cabinet was a great thrift store find
at the time, but remained as decrepit as the day she and
Jake purchased it. Constant use battered the exterior
further, causing long, sharp frays of metal to jut out in
precarious angles. She’d already cut herself countless times
and vowed each time to junk the thing too. So, why was it
still sitting there, threatening her and everyone that
walked into the office?
Why was Jake in her life, in her kitchen, still threatening
to tear her apart faster than any metal contraption ever
could?
She fumbled in the top drawer of the desk for a box of
band-aids, ripped two open and clamped them over the
scratch, now oozing with blood.
The sight of the gooey red liquid sent her stomach into a
spin.
Don’t think about it. Just cover it.
Damn, that thing was sharp. Didn’t help that she’d made
things worse by prying the metal with a pair of pliers when
the top drawer refused to open last week. She attacked the
thing like it was… like it was… she ought to just throw it
in the trash and be done with it!
Closing her eyes and counted to ten, she attempted to ease
her nerves with the calming technique her
two-hundred-dollar-per hour Beverly Hills shrink charged her
double for.
Maybe Jake would take her quick exit as a hint and leave.
She opened her eyes just as an all too familiar form
appeared in the doorway, sucking away any iota of serenity
she managed to seize.
Not now.
She couldn’t handle this right now.
Why, God, why?
* * * *
The minute he stepped into the kitchen, Jake’s gut howled as
if someone suckered-punched him straight in the abs.
Even with a dust of flour on her cheeks and strands of curly
black hair struggling to escape her chef hat, Tia shone with
a beauty that no amount of Botox could supply. Her energy
sparkled, lighting the whole room with passion and…
distress. Something spun her into overdrive and it had
little to do with the swordfish she had a chokehold on.
The comical scene pried a chuckle from his lips before he
could think to stifle it.
Her brows furrowed deeper and a scowl formed. No doubt in
his mind, she saw him. Jake wished he could walk across the
kitchen, sweep her up in his arms, kiss the torturous look
from her lips, and rediscover every inch of her flesh.
He’d screwed things up royally. How could he think she’d
even contemplate a step towards reconciliation? How could he
even think she’d believe how much he changed?
How could he think she’d want to have sex?
Well, maybe she would. It was one arena they’d never failed
in.
He missed the taste of her.
Probably more than he cared to admit.
The tangy scents of garlic and paprika swimming around the
kitchen triggered a spiral of memories in his mind. When he
and Tia met, they were kids freshly enrolled in culinary
school, full of grandiose dreams of owning five star
restaurants and creating masterpieces in the kitchen.
They flew through their training with top marks, heating up
the kitchen and sizzling in the bedroom–two kids, so
passionate about food and each other set off the illusion of
perfection. So caught up in the thrusts of the utopia love
bubble, they married right before their graduation.
Training as protégés under master chefs for the first three
years was a cakewalk for both of them, sustaining the
illusion.
When they opened La Mesa, the shit fan of reality hit home.
A year later, he bailed on her.
He could blame it on the pressure, the long hours, the
exhaustion, the close quarters of living together and
working together, but in reality, he failed the one test
life had thrown at him. Failed miserably and wound up
hurting the one person he cared more for than anyone or
anything.
He’d left to “find himself”, to relax and reassess his life
or some equally new-age bull-crap excuse he chose to buy
into at the time. Spent six weeks traveling through Arizona,
camping wherever he landed for the night, ending in the
Grand Canyon where he found he felt very, very small.
The deep chasms and never-ending rock gullies mocked him.
“Who do you think you are?” they echoed. He learned there
that God was incredibly big and in comparison, he was just a
tiny piss ant without a clue. The next few weeks were spent
at his brother’s place until he finally found a dingy dump
of an apartment to hole up in.
Somewhere in that muck, he did manage to find himself—find
the man he was supposed to be, not the boy who ran away.
Now, it was too late to take back the sins of the past.
Or was it?
If she still hurt, then she still cared. Didn’t she?
He watched her flee towards the sanctity of her tiny office.
The place she always chose to hole up in whenever he’d lost
his temper or things got out of hand.
The three assistant chefs, Mac, Sally, and Daniel glared at
him as he strode after Tia.
Let them try and stop him.
Whatever it took, whatever hell she chose to dish back out
to him, he needed to make things right again.
Tonight.
If he could.
CREOLE TEMPTATIONS
By
Emery LaRue
Timothy Mathis stood back and looked up at the sign on the
side of the building. It had taken a lot of hard work, but
Creole Temptations was ready for business. His family had
told him that opening a restaurant that specialized in
southern cooking would be hard enough, but in Chicago, they
were sure it would not prosper. Now he just needed to prove
them wrong.
It wasn’t that he felt the need to rub anything in his
parents’ faces. They loved him and wanted the best for him.
Timothy needed to do this for himself.
Walking into the building, he glanced around the dining
room. The setting was comfortable. A person didn’t need to
be rich to enjoy the cuisine. Suit and tie were optional
here. The tables were created from rough oak, giving it the
woodsy look. Oil lamps graced the tops.
For all his waiting, Creole Temptations was his dreams come
true. After years in cooking school, he was anxious to put
out that first plate.
“Timothy?”
He turned and smiled at his sister and bookkeeper Rona.
“Yea?”
“All is ready and we can open the doors tomorrow morning.”
Rona had a sparkle in her eye and he knew she enjoyed this
as much as he did.
“Excellent.”
“Excellent? Is that all you have to say after all your belly
aching these last few months?”
“Was I that bad?” He tried to grin, knowing just how
bad he had been. It was all the excitement of finally
opening his own place.
“You know you were. Do you have any idea just how many
people I had to interview for job placement?”
“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me over and over again.”
“You got that right.” Rona bumped her hip with his. “Now,
come on. You can make it up to me by cooking something
spectacular.”
He laughed as she pulled him through the double doors into
the kitchen area. Timothy didn’t mind at all. This was what
he loved the most.
* * * *
Six Weeks Later
Jessica Merrill took another look at herself in the mirror.
Today was her first day at Creole Temptations, and she
wanted to look her best. The uniform was a basic black pants
and white shirt, and it helped to hide her generous curves,
and the colors did bring out the green of her eyes. She
finished her look with her long black hair pulled up and
secured with black pin sticks.
Satisfied, she gathered her purse, locked her apartment and
started the two-block walk. That was the best part of the
job. She was just a short walk away.
Her nerves where a little rattled, but Rona had assured her
that the atmosphere was friendly. Though she had yet to meet
the owner and head chef, she was told he was kind and not
prone to barking orders as much as asking. That was a good
thing. The first time he yelled at her she would more than
likely fall to the floor. She was far too timid and she knew
it.
Walking through the door of Creole Temptations, she was
relieved to see that the lunch rush was over. That would
give her more time to prepare for the dinner rush. She
placed her personal items in the employee break room and
went in search of Rona.
The office door was locked, so Jessica walked into the
kitchen area. The aroma in the room was enough to make her
mouth water. She glanced around, and her eyes landed on the
back of a cook cleaning his work area.
“Excuse me.” When he didn’t seem to hear her, she repeated
herself a little louder. “Excuse me.”
“Yes.” Came his reply, though he didn’t turn around.
“Would you happen to know where I can find, Rona?”
“She went to the bank. Can I help you with something?”
He turned and the breath left her lungs.
The man was gorgeous. He was tall, with a full head of
neatly cut sandy brown hair. His eyes were hazel, and kind.
Her eyes roamed over his body and she bit her lip to keep
from saying something foolish. The man was built, and she
wondered if he felt as firm as he looked. She looked back to
his face, and blushed at his knowing grin.
“I need to see, Rona.” She stammered and could have kicked
herself. She sounded like a ninny.
“She should be back soon. Maybe I can help you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you starting work today? I can help you in that area.”
“Yes, it’s my first day and I was hoping she would go over
everything again. I don’t want to mess things up. I have yet
to meet Mr. Mathis and I would rather make a good
impression.”
“I have a feeling he will like you just fine. You can call
me Timothy, or Tim.” He stepped forward and extended a hand.
“Welcome to Creole Temptations.”
“Jessica Merrill, or you can call me Jessie.”
“Well, come with me, Jessie, and I will show you the ropes.”
Jessica followed him out of the kitchen and into the dining
room. He seemed nice enough, and she thought about asking
him about Mr. Mathis. Then decided against it. She would
meet the man soon enough.
“Have you worked here long?”
“Since the doors opened six weeks ago.” He smiled at her and
she got the impression he was toying with her. He looked
ready to laugh, but was holding it back.
“What’s so amusing?”
“Nothing at all.” He chuckled and went about the task of
showing her around. By the time they were finished, she felt
confident she would do a good job. “If you need anything
else, just give a shout. I need to get ready for the dinner
rush.”
Jessica watched him go, and again couldn’t help but think of
just how handsome the man was. She sighed to herself. Men
like that preferred the tall, slender types.
“Jessica?”
She turned and smiled at Rona who had just walked into the
room.
“Hi, Rona.”
“Are you all set for the dinner crowd? Not nervous or
anything?”
“No. Timothy, your cook showed me around and I think I can
handle things.”
“Great. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” Rona
looked at the clock. “There will be two others on wait staff
tonight, and a hostess who will help clear tables. They will
leave out after the rush is over. I’ll be around to help
with any clean up afterwards.”
“Will Mr. Mathis be here this evening? I would like the
chance to introduce myself.”
“Mr. Mathis?” Rona looked very confused for all of thirty
seconds, and then a knowing light came into her eyes. “He’s
already here, Jessica. My brother has a funny sense of
humor.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”
“Timothy is Mr. Mathis.”
VACATION FOR
DESIRE
By
Linda
White-Francis
CHAPTER
ONE
Never
satisfied by any of her lovers, Teri Blanchester wallowed in
her sexy irrelevancies as if they were true. There were
times the dreams disturbed her, but for the most part they
kept her alive, because repeatedly she found a good man is
hard to find.
David
Brewster’s chatty openness uplifted Teri’s spirits. Her body
and mind felt mesmerized by the sweet nectar of his vibrant,
sexy voice. The travel agent from Sunny Days Travel Inc.
could have sold Teri a bareback trip to Alaska, yet his
succulent personality had her going to exotic Cancun. She
hoped when she met him, that her mind’s imaginary picture of
him matched the sweetly sensual sensations she’d experienced
when hearing his voice.
Ah, if
only such a man could really exist, she thought, and heals
the aches that reality brings. Keyed-up, and more excited
than a schoolgirl going to her first dance, the complex
redhead found she was more eager to meet David than boarding
the long-awaited journey.
“You’re worth it,” David promised. Teri, winced remembering
how she told this perfect stranger she was an old-fashioned
Ohio farm girl and this was her first vacation. David
thought it sweet. Teri giggled, embarrassed by her naiveté.
“That just means you’re about to change your life around.”
The kind gentleman schmoozed.
He had
that right, Teri thought, steadying herself at the kitchen
counter. I am aching for a change, glad for their faceless
conversation.
“Well,
let’s do it then!” Teri squealed audaciously, words piercing
her ears worse than the sound of her palpitating heart. Lord
knows I need a life change before the change of life takes
the wind right out of my sails--why not a cruise? She would
have said it if she wasn’t afraid to give away her age.
“It
will be more fun than you’ve had in your entire life,” David
said, a bit presumptuously. Teri doubted that, unless he’s
going to be my cabin-mate she mused. “Wait until you see the
moon in the midnight sky. You can almost touch the stars,”
he taunted. Teri’s body trembled as visions of romantic
interludes danced in her head. She could almost smell the
salty breezes wafting across the swelling ocean froth, and
see the two of them glued together under a sequined heaven,
blissful as feral cats.
He has
to be a fantastic kisser she thought, it goes with the
voice. In a perfect world, he’d hold her hungrily, and she’d
devour each of his kisses with the zest of a starving
prisoner handed a raw steak. The rest of the night would be
spent dancing in the emerald mist, long walks along the
ship’s rails, and unabashedly petting under a crowded
blanket on a convenient chaise lounge. Much, much later at
dawn, spent, they would finally let go of each other, and
then fall into bed, dog-tired.
Oh,
he didn’t say it exactly that way, but I sure am praying it
will happen with somebody someday.
She also prayed she hadn’t read more into this brief
encounter than there appeared, because the tempting images
David's voice sizzled-up, whetted her appetite with more
sweeping desire than she had now. Could I be misreading
his sales pitch for a cheap thrill? She wondered. No
way, she advised herself. I am definitely getting
some positive first-class vibes from this self-confident
guy. Maybe there’s a chance here.
“I
hope you’re right,” Teri answered David with reserve,
wishing she could see Mr. sexy voice right this very minute
instead of in a couple weeks when she would make the final
payment on the cruise. He’ll probably forget all about me
by then and I will most likely be over my pubescent
infatuation by then too
Life
could be complicated for Teri, because of her own making;
but she relished her prevailing world of fantasies, and
dabbled in them as if she were immortal. Dom, her previous
fiancé, called her frigid and impractical, but in her often
stuck in the clouds head, she fermented like charcoal
smoldering in a pit, and was oh so ready for rich, fattening
desserts.
Dom is
cold, mean-spirited too, she stewed defiantly. I have no
warm feelings for him left. He’s poison, and his
practicality is smothering me, giving me a feeling of being
sentenced to crackers and water for the rest of my life.
For a
moment, later that evening Teri had the urge to call her
friend Gina. It wasn’t at all like her to do anything as off
the charts as book a cruise without consulting her work
friend. On autopilot, Teri picked up the phone to call, but
set it back down again. “Nope,” she reconsidered, “I’ll tell
her tomorrow.” Floating on air, Teri wasn’t ready yet to
tell Gina about David. The outrageous woman would
go bananas.
What else is there to say?
Teri concluded. Teri’s fervent wish was that the luscious
gameness she felt within this strange hot to trot body she
was trying out now would not fade by first light, leaving
her feeling lame as an old horse. Teri wanted to savor the
mood like a delicious crème de menthe. Eventually I will
tell her, Teri sighed, but in good time, not now in
the midst of the afterglow. Teri wouldn’t let
Gina steal her erotic mood too soon; she was feeling too
fine.
Every
sense in Teri’s body sought the readiness of the moment.
Tonight it would be her own dirty little secret to keep sans
Gina’s opinions. The madcap was the type who would have her
go straight to the travel agency, peek through the windows,
and check him out. “No way Hosea,” Teri muttered, kicking
off her flats beside the four-poster. Still feeling ripe as
a summer peach, she turned down the plump celadon comforter,
and took from the top drawer of the highboy a pair of lilac
satin pajamas. “Ummm these are so sexy,” she cooed, drawing
the faintly scented fabric across her soft cheek. Can’t wait
to get into these she thought.
Teri
had planned on reading awhile before taking her ritual soak.
She wanted to turn-in early, but a voracious growl disturbed
her train of thought. “I almost forgot to eat,” she
complained, louder than her tetchy belly. “Puppy love,
that’s all; it kills the appetite,” Teri accepted, full
knowing. “Silly ruminations.”
Teri
adored her warm little kitchen. It sang in touches of red
and white gingham. Her once imagined quaint garden in
Tuscany had been realized by her keen attention to detail
and hard work. The kitschy niche seized her eye every time
she entered, and made her happy. She never tired of it.
Another striking accent was the pantry, reflective of her
love for the past. Instead of doors hiding the liberal
shelving, charming curtains she’d sewn, flowing to the
floor, hid canned foods, cereal, spices, bottled water and
everyday dishes. It resembled a country-clad window more
than storage space.
An
avid collector of old kitchen utensils, Teri’s homey retro
pieces made a polite statement about her life, but tonight
she might as well be a bubbling sexpot spilling over before
a screaming throng of grabby homeboys. Another exhibit hung
just so on a white pegboard, the red-handled kitchen art
heralded country-girl sweet, not flashy, or skanky, not some
hot-to-trot lap-dancing transformation. Attractive like her,
the collection made her proud. It had taken years to amass,
and she used them devotedly. Dom had called the collection
“fashionable junk” which infuriated Teri.
“What
about your smelly mid-century sofa, and those rigid
chrome-edged chairs. They’re cold?” She’d reminded him.
His
uptight habits exasperate me. Even his furniture hurts. It’s
uncomfortable, and likely to pinch me when I sit down.
Teri passed a sigh of petulance. Secretly she wanted the
relationship over with, but how, without losing? She
supposed she was being selfish.
Sitting befuddled at the end of the well-worn plank table,
Teri smoothed a placemat and ate with solemn mechanization.
Virtually betrayed by nonsensicalness, as if a pleasing
dream would fool someone, Teri spaced-out for a second,
awakening shortly when her throat rebuffed the dry ham and
cheese. Collecting her thoughts, the fuzzy mirages came back
on little horny feet—rampant inside her skull. Stabilizing
her head in her hands, the mutant creatures resting right
behind her eyeballs released a flurry of yellow butterflies
that tickled her heart. She couldn’t eat any more.
“Ha,
ha, ha”, she burbled, rubbing her eyes in amusement, “snap
out of it girl you’ve lost it.”
Presto! Teri’s savior monarch appeared. It was David’s rich,
powerful voice coming into her head. Again, on gossamer
wings he was back and the fuzzy mirages were gone and this
time she was awake! All this feels unbelievably
reminiscent of that sensual movie Dom and I saw last year,
she remembered, fumbling for her soda. That dreadful
experience was the beginning of the end of us. It
still haunts me.
Teri
deliberated, going back to those dark winter days when they
were an ordinary couple driving to her apartment. I don’t
know what I said that night that made him so mad. At the
time it seemed benign, so off the cuff and meaningless.
Recalling her exact words Teri had to confess in hindsight
she probably came across as a bit over zealous about the
movie they had just seen, but the music and the characters
resounded in her reveries.
“I
can’t help it, Dom, this actor thrills me to death! He is
gorgeous, and oh God, so sexy! I love the way his handsome
lips translate disparagement as he sings. He’s in my head.
He is The Phantom!” Teri confessed, a bit too
excessively to Dom, who scowled, clearly unimpressed.
“It’s
a neat feeling, to be in the moment. It’s a sign of a great
movie, don‘t you think?” she asked her perplexed fiancé,
baring her soul honestly on the ten mile drive to her
apartment.
Dom
silently shot daggers at her through his incessantly smudged
glasses.
“Don’t
look at me that way!” Teri cried, stunned by his evil glare.
Clearly disgusted by her bluntness, Dom reached over and
thumped her shoulder hard; she sensed a lecture would
follow. “Ouch, that’s not funny! What’s wrong with a little
fantasizing?” she asked animatedly.
“It
wasn’t meant to be funny. Get serious; it was a movie for
God’s sake, and not that good either,” Dom trashed. “The man
is a character in a musical, not an old boyfriend!”
I
hate it when he scolds me.
Teri swallowed, stiffly waiting for the other shoe to drop
He called her foolish and a pubertal. Spoken like a true
highfalutin English literature professor, she thought.
I don’t care what he thinks about my phantom,
tonight or any other night for that matter. I love the
phantom… I mean I love the character.
What
thunderstruck Teri that particular evening was the dark,
lithe, leading man in the half mask, not the rude chuck from
the prudish, lukewarm intellectual she was supposed to
marry. Subliminally, Dom would make evident things would
never be the same between them if she continued her obvious,
deliberate and absurd meanderings.
Under other circumstances, I might be relieved to be rid of
him. What’s five years of your life if you are not truly in
love?
Teri said of their engagement, thinking rationally for once.
If there were just more alternatives, but guys aren’t
exactly climbing my trellises to get to me, she
told herself sternly. Her friends had often said she was
much too pretty and witty for Dom. Her own mother called him
unattractive and cheerless, but Teri understood his
complacency. She felt much the same way. Being with someone,
anyone, was better than being alone.
For
weeks, she hid her dreams from Dom, enjoying her caped
apparition every night. Hell, some of my crazy dreams
could be a godsend to our mediocre lovemaking. She
wanted to yell in Dom’s deaf ear so he’d listen to what she
needed and wanted.
But
no Dom, you just don’t get it do you?
She knew he would never go the fantasy route to improve
their relationship. He didn’t even read Playboy. He was just
too damn bullheaded to know what was good for him.
It
wasn’t long before the worst happened; he stopped kissing
her goodbye when he left for his apartment—a cold, uppity
loft across town. Then he started hedging visits to her
parent’s house.
“You’re pissing me off, Dom. You know mom and dad expect us
on Saturday. I already told them we were coming. Dad’s been
waiting weeks for you to look at his computer.” Teri snapped
at his reluctance one day.
“I’m
sorry, Teri, but I got some work to do with a couple
students. Go on out yourself. It’s you they want to see, not
me,” he said, with a sulky pout.
“That’s an excuse! Oh, do what you want, you bastard!” She
screeched.
Dom
always said he liked her mom and dad, they gave the
impression they like him too, although her mother told Teri
once, she thought him a bit too controlling for her liking.
“He’s
okay mind you, but he sure isn’t like any of the handsome
boys you dated in high school. Whatever happened to them I
wonder?” She grinned playfully.
“They’re all married, what do you think, Mom?” Teri
retorted. “I wish you wouldn’t make me feel this way.”
“What
way?”
“Like
I’m making a mistake. Are you saying he’s ugly?”
“Not
exactly, just dull…kind of homely.”
“Dom’s
going to make a great husband someday, don’t you think? His
looks suit me, did you forget he’s eight years older than
me? He’s becoming distinguished looking.”
“Oh,
is that what it is? Now sweetie, don’t get upset, but I
worry. When’s he going to marry you anyway, when you’re
fifty?”
Mom
has a point. I figure she’ll be overjoyed if I dump him.
Wonder what she’s going to say when she finds out he’s
probably going to dump me first?
RECIPE FOR SEDUCTION
By
Tamara James
CHAPTER ONE
“Mmm, now that’s a nice view.” Nicky’s voice purred. “When
did Mavis start collecting beef cake?”
Zara snorted. “Hardly.” Born and bred from old southern
money, Mavis, Zara’s very proper neighbor, had shocked high
society when she ran off at eighteen to marry a poor Yankee
cop. At eighty-seven, Mavis O’Donnal still blushed when she
spoke of her husband Tom. “Mavis and Tom are in Atlanta
fulltime. She’s overseeing her granddaughter’s take over of
her cosmetics company. Remember.”
“Yes, yes, I’d forgotten.” Nicky pressed the pad of his
thumb into the cramp that had possessed Zara’s right arch
for the past day. Pain shot up her leg. “She gave the house
to one of the grandsons. Right?” Zara groaned when the
bunched up muscles released and the tense muscle eased.
“Wait, don’t tell me.” The tips of his fingers tapped
against her skin.
Zara grinned. Nicky had a bad habit of drumming his fingers
against any available surface. It was as though the movement
kick started his brain.
Nicky smacked the top of Zara’s foot. “Got it. ‘Used to work
for one of those alphabet agencies in the government, then
something happened, and now he’s a cop. Right?”
“You got it.” Nicky’s lithe fingers worked their way up
Zara’s ankle. Tight from dancing all-day and working on her
feet all night, she’d begged him to untangle the knot.
Zara’s former dance partner now business partner had an
almost mystical ability to relieve muscle pain and cramps.
“Whew.” Nicky whistled under his breath. “Mavis wasn’t
kidding when she said they were good looking boys.”
Unable to resist, Zara lifted the cool cloth off her eyes
and watched her neighbor. Five foot eleven inches of pure
lickable muscle, Detective James O’Donnal just finished his
morning run.
A daily event Zara found herself anticipating. The man moved
like a dream. Pure male.
The row of small bungalows, set in an exclusive Miami
suburb, shared a common backyard. Biscayne Bay stretched
like a jewel accentuating her neighbor’s well-toned form.
A pathetic comment on her social life and obsession with her
surly neighbor, Zara memorized his weekly routine. Though it
cost her much needed sleep, it was rare she missed seeing
James’ return.
Bare chested and sweaty, James twisted, broad smile across
his face, and returned a wayward ball to the kids on the
other side of her house.
Zara shivered. The man had a mouth made for sin and a
compact muscle packed frame that made her think wicked
thoughts she shouldn’t be thinking.
“Wow. That smile changes him from angry and brooding hotness
to model perfect.” Nicky made the suggestive comment.
“He’s straight.”
“Pity.”
The screen door snapped shut announcing Sherri’s return,
Zara’s chef and best friend, from the kitchen. James’ head
swiveled toward the sound. Zara attempted a wave. A frown
replaced the warmth in the Detective’s gaze. James glared at
Zara then stomped up the back steps and into his house.
She sighed. Zara wished she knew what had happened. Things between them
were going well until the night of the opening. He’d
disappeared shortly after his arrival. Later, when she tried
to find out why he left, he muttered something about
poaching and dealers then slammed the door in her face.
A first she’d been angry. Did he think because she was half Cuban she’d
be into something illegal? She ran a clean club, a place
where people could come to relax and have fun.
But her reason returned after her hurt had subsided. His declaration
hadn’t made sense. The only people at the opening were
staff, some family, and a handful of students from the dance
studio.
To add further insult James went ballistic last week when he found out
his oldest niece took private lessons with her. He’d barked
at Zara to stay away from his family and dragged Laura out.
Brian, James’ oldest brother, had shown up that night
apologizing for James behavior but didn’t explain it.
Zara buried the ache in her heart. She needed to get over it already.
She replaced the cloth over her face and slouched down. She
tried to block out the memory of the hours they’d spent
together.
More perceptive than she would like, Nicky caught the
exchange. “What was that about?”
Zara shook her head.
Nicky started to question
“Wait, you haven’t seen them all. Mavis didn’t do them
justice.” Unaware of the silent exchange, Sherri went a
little breathless. She grabbed the back of the chair her
eyes half closed. “The O’Donnal men are orgasmic
perfection.”
Nicky hesitated before replying. “And why have I never had
the pleasure of seeing them.” Grateful, Zara let her two
best friends talk. She was sure her former dance partner
turned business partner would corner her later.
“‘Cause you were too busy last Christmas playing with your
man toy Bruce, to spend time with Zara and I. You missed the
whole O’Donnal clan gathering to celebrate their
grandfather’s ninetieth birthday.” Sherri laughed. “While
you were skiing, we were lounging here watching the oh so
amazing O’Donnal men play beach volley ball.” Fanning her
face, Sherri pulled her long red hair into a ponytail. “Ah,
nothing like a full day filled with five blonde, tanned, six
foot plus of mouth watering, male goodness jumping, lunging,
and sweating.”
While Sherri panted, Zara spied on James. He sat, silent and
brooding, under the covered porch, being fussed over by his
mother and grandmother. Black haired, olive skinned, James
was the lone O’Donnal that took after their mother.
From the moment she first saw him, eyes bandaged, body
broken, his expression so sad and brooding. It hurt her
heart to look at him. Then he smiled. The man had the most
expressive mouth.
Zara had dark fantasies with it as the focus. A favorite one
involved James on his knees, dark head bent as he put that
extraordinary mouth to use between her legs. Zara’s mouth
went dry as all the moisture in her body flooded her
channel. Heat flashed over her skin.
A hoarse bark of a laugh escaped Zara. Like that would ever
happen. Detective O’Donnal made it clear he wanted nothing
to do with her.
“Sorry, I missed it. Bruce was good to look at, but duller
than long division.” Nicky pulled Zara’s other leg onto his
lap. The man’s hands were magic.
Chipper to a point near giddy, Sherri’s voice floated over
Zara. “Fill you up? These frozen margaritas are divine. You
can’t even tell there is no alcohol in them.”
Zara groped around the table next to her. Not willing to
move from her slummed position or open her eyes. Nicky moved
onto her toes and she was in heaven. “Please.” Zara waved
her glass in the direction of Sherri’s voice.
“I can’t wait to taste the tapas dishes you made. The chef
in me couldn’t resist a peek in the fridge. Holy cow, you
outdid yourself.”
CHECK IT OFF THE LIST
By
Bridghid Parkinson
“Are you free?” Trevor’s dark head peeked over the top edge
of her cubicle. Wisps of moustache angled downward to form
an angular and close-cropped goatee that did nothing to hide
a bit of worry in his expression.
“Yep,” Kayla said as she stood. She needed a break from the
database. She twisted her hair back up into her ponytail
holder so the tendrils wouldn’t continue to fall while she
worked.
“Question… My friend was supposed to meet me late tonight,
but he just called and he will be early. I’ll probably find
him in the parking lot of my apartment complex when I get
off work. Originally, I was just going to leave the barbeque
when he called. Would you mind if I bring him with me to the
shindig at your place?”
“Sure, it’s simple tonight. Bring anything special that you
might need or let me know if he has any allergies. One more
won’t make a difference—the more the merrier.”
“No allergies, I’ll grab extra sodas.”
Kayla nodded and laughed. “Yeah, that’s good. Luckily, we
have the space in the yard because Mom-Mom loved the
gardens.”
“Why are you living in her house?”
“It’s a long story involving inheritance laws and I’m not
clear on everything.” Kayla explained.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was gone.”
“No! Oh, she’s fine for now! She’s 74 and she is living in a
senior independent-living condo.” Kayla explained,
“Officially, Mom and Dad own the house. They don’t want to
lock up the house and leave it empty. It’s a huge
split-level house with a garage underneath so it needs
maintenance. It’s closer to work for me and I take care of
things like mowing the grass.”
“Your life is so exciting…” Trevor teased.
Kayla snickered, “Yeah, well… it could be worse.”
“I’m sure!” Trevor laughed. “Catch you tonight…”
Kayla looked around her cubicle. There was nothing
outstanding in the area of her desk. Yeah! So exciting…
her mind echoed. She longed for a little excitement in her
life.
No special vacation pictures pinned on the wall, just
mementoes from her business trips.
No wild activity calendars hanging over her desk.
I have to change that, she thought. Live it up a
little, girl!
* * * *
Trevor greeted Gary as he pulled in the apartment complex
parking lot and he explained the party to him. “I want to
get going, follow me to her place in your car. If anyone
gets tipsy, I might be a designated driver.”
“You have got to be kidding!” Gary said. “Your coworker?”
Trevor snickered. “Yes. It’s just a housewarming party, a
barbeque. I know you love food, and you don’t have to cook.”
Gary nodded his head, “Yes, but… let me guess, khaki pants,
polo shirt, and short hair.”
Trevor laughed. “Wrong!” His eyebrows wiggled salaciously.
“Huh?”
“She’s a hottie.”
Gary leaned against the front of the car. “So why aren’t you
dating her?” he asked sarcastically.
“She’s a co-worker. She’s off limits to me, dude.”
“That doesn’t stop some people.” Gary said skeptically.
“Well, the company policy is pretty strict. She was dating a
guy, but broke up with him a few months ago. She’s ditching
the shared apartment and moving into a house owned by her
family.”
He glared at Trevor, who smiled and said nothing. “You are
just going to leave me hanging? What does she look like?”
Trevor laughed. “Long, dark blond hair, green eyes. She
wears simple slacks with nice sweaters or blouses to work.
If we are crawling around the systems or building, she wears
an old military style flight suit that she keeps in the
office.”
“And that doesn’t tell me why you haven’t…”
“I’m dating… or at least a very serious flirt.”
“When did this start?” Gary insisted.
“A few weeks ago,” Trevor grinned. “She lives in the next
building and I met her while jogging.”
“You never said a word!” Gary accused. “So…?”
“Her name is Kendra.” Trevor could see Gary wanted the
details. “She’s black, with a five year old daughter, and
she’s part of the accounting staff at a company downtown.”
Gary smiled, “You really like her.”
“That’s what counts, isn’t it?” Trevor asked.
“Is she coming tonight?”
“Nah, she has something she’s doing with her sister at her
college. I wanted to discuss that with you. She asked if I
could join her tomorrow night, but I wanted to ask you first
before I made any definite plans.” Trevor shuffled his feet
on the pavement.
“It’s cool with me! I’ll just catch a movie because there
are several I’ve been waiting to see anyway. Bring her over
so I can meet her before you hit the road.” Gary answered.
“But…wait until you meet Kayla!”
Gary eyed his friend. “You’ve tried to set me up before.”
Trevor held up a finger in warning. “Stop it. You are early.
I have permission to bring you along. For you, free food
that you don’t have to cook, and she’s a nice lady. You
don’t have to date her. You don’t have to do jack. Just eat,
drink and be merry.”
Gary raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. Are you sure,
you’re ready? It looks like you have some dirt on your
chin.”
“That’s a beard, step off!” Trevor snarled before he gave
into laughter. “Get in the car.”
* * * *
“Mom! Door again!”
Nora ran through the hallway. “Honey, why can’t…?”
Kayla was already storming out the back door. “Hands full!”
she called out as she made her way out to the back deck with
a large bowl of potato salad.
“It’s Debbie!” Nora held open the door for a young woman
with a five-year-old boy. “Come on in! Kayla can use a hand,
and there is a swing out back with your name on it, Tommy.”
“Don’t get his hopes up,” Debbie said and laughed. “He’ll
try to take it home in the trunk!”
Nora laughed. “If he can get it off the chains, he can have
it.”
Kayla stood in the door to the hall, shook her hands
anxiously, and shifted her weight from foot to foot.
Debbie understood the unspoken anxiety perfectly. “I’ll
start getting the sodas in the ice chest and the punch in
pitchers.”
“Good. The food is on the table near Dad,” Kayla said. She
hugged her old friend quickly as she ran back into the
kitchen.
Kayla began to calm once the food was set out and her other
friends started to arrive. Several people showed up with
gifts, and more bowls of food, in spite of her insistence
that she really didn’t need anything else.
“Happy Friday!” Her section manager, Steve, arrived with his
girlfriend and another young woman from the office. The
large cake he held looked like it would feed an army.
As the back yard began to fill, Kayla immediately understood
some of the wisdom about the garden layout. Benches offered
comfortable seating around the raised flowerbeds and the
fire pit, and the children played on the swings in the far
end of the yard.
Kayla motioned for everyone to start helping themselves to
dinner and she pointed out paper plates.
“Am I too late? We stopped at the store to get more sodas.”
Trevor called out over the back fence. “We are parked in the
empty lot at the old convenience store down the road. Is
that a problem?”
“Nah, not for one night,” she called over her shoulder as
she put a fresh liner in the trashcan. “Who’s going to
complain?”
“Kayla, this is Gary, I was telling you about him today.”
Kayla turned from the serving area toward the sound of
Trevor’s voice only to see the most alarming light brown
eyes she’d ever seen in her life. Golden flecks sparked like
fire in front of her and she forced herself to remember to
breathe. It felt like she moved in slow motion as she
reached her hand out to shake hands.
“Hi, Kayla Garrison,” she finally offered her name.
“Gary Montrose,” he answered. He didn’t move and he held her
hand in a gentle caress.
“Come on, grab a bite to eat,” she stammered.
* * * *
HIS OWN TASTE
By
Mae Powers
Brock couldn't believe his luck.
Serena finally agreed to go out with him. His persistence
paid off. She said she'd meet him tonight at the new swank
restaurant in town called Starhavens. His long-time coworker
and rival for Serena's affections, Jorden, would be envious.
He so couldn't wait to laud it over him Monday at work,
which Serena picked him instead of Jorden. Well, he had to
admit, Serena couldn’t have gone wrong with Jor.
The smart, African-American man
was good-looking, as far as men could be handsome, Brock
supposed. He'd seen the way women fawned over Jorden's tall,
brawny good looks. During the few times some of them from
work got together, even a few men eyeballed Jor's high plump
derriere enviously.
Though only an inch or so shorter
than the six-foot Jorden, Brock wasn't envious of Jor. He
admitted the man was nice looking and all—for a man. And he
had an appealing demeanor. Yet, since Serena first looked at
Jor, Brock started feeling just a bit ruffled at the fact.
He'd asked Serena out several times over the last few years
and he'd always gotten a flat no or maybe one day. He'd
heard Jor ask her out a few times. He knew her sashay
enticed several people at the office, but everyone still
played it safe enough around the firm so that sexual
harassment couldn't be stated.
Still, though he dated a bit,
Serena had buoyancy he found appealing. Though he'd known
her a few years now, he wasn't quite sure how much he
"really" liked, or even lusted after her. Perhaps it was
because he didn’t always like coming in second at things.
The microelectronics firm the worked for gave good bonuses
for high sales. In the last few years, he, Serena and Jorden
were always top contenders. It was a healthy rivalry between
the three of them and others. And all were good-natured
about things.
However, Serena out-ranked them in
sales most of the time. Jor and he tied for second or third
place, occasionally first place. He admired Jor’s knack for
selling and charming the companies they often sold to around
the globe. Jor bore a smile that lit up the room when he
walked into it. He thought, if he had been born female,
Brock could have gone for a man like Jor. He liked him
enough, he supposed. Other than their occasional rivalries
at the office over Serena and sales, he couldn't find much
wrong with the darkly handsome man.
Brock smiled to himself as he
thought about his date with Serena. They'd have a soft
romantic dinner. Perhaps some sweet after dinner kisses
even, maybe even more. The thought that he'd be with Serena
stirred his groins. Wouldn't Jor be so envious. Imagining
Jor's handsome face made Brock’s shaft ache with a stronger
need. He was sure that it must be his getting to Serena
first and not Jor that gave him the prickly hard on.
He could feel his smile widen at
the thought of Jor wondering what he and Serena would be
doing after dinner. Still, he wouldn't tell Jor just yet
that Serena finally decided to go out with him. He'd wait
until later, maybe even at the local pub not far from his
apartment. Jorden sometimes met him there once a month on a
Sunday afternoon, where they'd recap the month of sales,
sports news, and the women they did or didn't date.
Brock enjoyed those times. Funny,
he hadn't realized how much. He shuffled his papers together
and cleared off his desk. Maybe he should tell Jorden. He
pondered for a moment, then decided otherwise. He left the
office at five without seeing Jorden or Serena. Thankfully,
he had time to run home and change before their date at 7
pm. It would be a terrific evening. Brock hoped Jor wouldn’t
be too defensive when the other man found out about Serena
dating him instead of Jor. Shaking the feeling off that he
was doing a disservice or sneaking around behind Jor's back,
Brock quickly left the office to head home.
* * * *
Jorden bit his bottom lip softly to hold in his elation.
Serena finally accepted his invitation to dinner.
Heck, wait until Brock
found out this Sunday afternoon, when they met up for drinks
and company. His coworker would see a little red perhaps,
but Jor was sure Brock would take it well, enough that he'd
won the prize instead. They'd known each other for about
three years now. Brock had gone out of his way to make
Jorden feel part of the sales team, though they competed in
sales and office romance.
For the longest time, he thought
it Serena's lovely face and form, plus making good sales
bonuses, that prompted him to come to the office. Odd, he
just realized today that it was Brock’s camaraderie, teasing
and rivalry that sometimes made his day. Strange, he never
realized how much that meant to him.
He glanced at the computer clock.
Jut a few more minutes until he left to go home and get
ready for his date with Serena at around 7:15 pm. Tonight at
Starhavens they'd meet for dinner, maybe some dancing,
perhaps even a late night dessert of a special kind. He
looked very forward to the evening ahead. He'd always found
Serena attractive enough, and somewhat appealing. Perhaps it
was because he thought his friend Brock liked her too that
made her so much more appealing on other levels as well.
He'd seen the way she looked at Brock.
With his tall, lanky blonde good
looks and those startling green eyes of his, Jor could see
why any female would want to be around Brock. The man had a
lot of charisma, which Jor thought he'd picked up, or
caught. He'd taken a page from Brock’s book and learned how
to use that something extra to drive up his sales. That's
probably what made Serena want to finally date him. He would
find out later. It was nearly five o'clock and without
seeing Brock any where around, he left the office.
* * * *
Serena Davenport flicked her long
red hair off her creamy shoulders, prancing before her
dresser mirror. She smiled, pleased with her looks tonight.
This would be a glorious evening for her. She could feel it
in every bone. Tonight she’d have the two men she wanted
doing her bidding. Her smile widened as she smoothed down
the short dark blue dress she would wear tonight to dazzle
both Brock and Jorden. It fit her slender curves to
perfection. She had no doubts the men would forgive her
instantly for standing them up at first, or being late.
The two had lusted after her for a
few years now. She’d started to have fantasies about the
two, but never each individually. Well they had both been
cute and all, but they were co-workers who did less in sales
than she did. Still they were worthy adversaries, even if
they kept asking her out occasionally. It had been a few
months since either man had asked her.
She couldn’t think that her
favorite admirers were losing their interest in her. She
still had a few more years of single activity before she had
the necessary kids and all. Nothing wrong with partying here
and there and sampling a lot. It had been fun at the office
to occasionally tease the two men, but she knew how to keep
it in under control. Still, when they didn’t pay attention
to her, either from competing over sales or vying to get her
to go out with either one of them, it rankled her to no end.
She liked the attention.
Tonight she’d find out which one
she liked better, or both perhaps. Of all the men she’d gone
out with, they were the handsomest and fittest. Serena knew
she could have any man she wanted. She’d even opted to
include a third in her plans for tonight. Their boss, Eddie,
had wanted to get in her pants too. He was rich enough and
might even ask her to marry him. But first, she’d have Brock
and Jor. The two were favorites to talk about in the women’s
restroom at work. They hadn’t asked anyone else out at work
that she knew about. She liked that.
They would at least be faithful to
her. It did her ego good to know that. She hadn’t found them
interesting enough to consider a date with either one of
them. Yet, it had occasionally been irritating to have them
ask her to go out with them. They toned it down after the
second year they started working together. She finally
realized a few weeks ago they were losing interest, so
decided to do something and make them understand she would
be the one in control.
She figured letting them each
believe she’d go out with them would make them ask her on a
date. They each had, and she’d told them to keep it quiet
until afterwards. Then she set it up where she’d meet them
both at the same place, but at least half an hour apart. It
would give her time to decide whether she actually wanted to
go out with them, or make them wait for her grand entrance.
She thought about a ménage for some years, but never got
into it until recently when she decided they would both suit
her needs.
They would come around to her way
of thinking. Since Eddie had other plans too, she figured
she might as well let the two meet there tonight, then she’d
stroll in and have some fun. They wouldn’t be angry for
long. The two were easygoing and not temperamental. Still,
they were cute and had great bodies. She could handle strong
silent types for one night.
She twirled and turned again in
front of her mirror. Oh yes, they would be delighted to see
her and let her do what she wanted this evening. They would
probably send her flowers in the morning and be thankful she
had graced them with her attention. Getting her vivre back
up, she took her time to finish getting ready. She wanted
her men to be bowled over by her beauty and charm. They’d
all have a great evening in many ways. What more could the
two of them possibly want than a sexy evening in her
company?
* * * *
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