Amazon Encore!

I'm happy to announce that two of my titles from The Wild Rose Press, Alaska Heart and Firefly Mountain, have been republished by Amazon Encore. This program seeks to get previously published books by "emerging authors" in front of readers with a magical Amazon push. I'm excited about the possibilities.

And about being called an "emerging author."

Firefly Mountain re-release date was August 25th.
Alaska Heart re-release date was September 1st.

Both are now available for download. Read more about Amazon Encore here.

Firefly Mountain

Firefighter Patrick Barre is determined to hide away in the woods of Vermont. He's content to do his job, remodel his house, and enjoy the company of his arson-detection dog, Midas. Scars from the fire that destroyed his family keep him from letting anyone into his life.

Gini Claremont uses her camera to celebrate the beauty of life. Nature soothes her, while anger is dangerous for Gini--and anyone near her. If she doesn't guard her emotions, her surroundings could go up in flames. Living alone, keeping busy, and letting her family keep watch on her is best for everyone.

When an arsonist declares war on their town, Patrick and Gini reluctantly band together to sift through the ashes, each holding a secret close to the heart. As the arson escalates, so does their mutual attraction. Will teaming up put out the fires, or start a whole new one?

Alaska Heart

Alaska is supposed to be cold, so why is Alanna Cormac on fire? 

Sent on a dream assignment to Denali National Park, nature magazine writer Alanna Cormac has no intentions of falling in love with Dale Ramsden, sexy Iditarod winner. When Dale, his family, and even his eighteen sled dogs charm their way into her heart, however, Alanna’s fast-track New York instincts crumble. The Alaskan landscape and the caress of a man too good to be true ignite feelings she never had time to explore before. Feelings that have her so blissfully busy she’s unaware she’s being watched. Judged. Targeted. 

She’s next.

Love will either save her or swallow her whole. Is there a difference?

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

The Maple Leaf Series – Books One to Four now available – More Than Pancakes, Book One is always FREE!

More Than Candy Corn – A Maple Leaf Series Halloween Novella, coming October!

On the Mountain

My Wild Rose Press book, Firefly Mountain, is on sale for $0.99. It's a good time to visit Vermont and see what happens when a sexy firefighter and a sassy photographer work together to catch an arsonist. Things will heat up... whether they want them to or not.

Blurb:

Firefighter Patrick Barre is determined to hide away in the woods of Vermont. He's content to do his job, remodel his house, and enjoy the company of his arson-detection dog, Midas. Scars from the fire that destroyed his family keep him from letting anyone into his life.

Gini Claremont uses her camera to celebrate the beauty of life. Nature soothes her, while anger is dangerous for Gini--and anyone near her. If she doesn't guard her emotions, her surroundings could go up in flames. Living alone, keeping busy, and letting her family keep watch on her is best for everyone.

When an arsonist declares war on their town, Patrick and Gini reluctantly band together to sift through the ashes, each holding a secret close to the heart. As the arson escalates, so does their mutual attraction. Will teaming up put out the fires, or start a whole new one?

Some favorite lines from Firefly Mountain:

“You know anyone that likes nipples Italian style?” Haddy came out of the bathroom still rubbing at the wet, red-orange stain on her blouse. When she looked up and saw Jonah standing there, her face reddened.

***

Gini peered at Patrick, who sat perfectly still as if he were holding his breath. Did he want her help? Need it? What else did he need?

***

No pictures. No family talk. Too many rules to Patrick Barre. So rigid and armored. And yet, when Gini had hugged him in the hospital, he was none of those things.

Fun fact:

Many of the renovations Patrick Barre makes to his Vermont home in the story are based on real home improvement projects my husband and I have made to our own home in the woods of Vermont.

Inspiration:

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com 

Fall into Danger!

I live a pretty safe life. My neighborhood is located in Suburbia, USA where getting my mail at 4:30 instead of 4:00 is the biggest danger I face. Police sirens are rarely heard, criminals don’t run rampant in the streets, and my super huge German Shepherd has only tiny squirrels to scare away. I can walk said German Shepherd at midnight if I want to and not worry that I’ll be abducted or something equally as heinous.

I work in a safe town in a safe school, surrounded by safe colleagues and safe students.  

Bottom line? My life is basically populated with fuzzy pink bunnies. For the most part I like it that way. I do.

But…

I am a writer, you know. Sometimes I fantasize about danger. It’s kind of my job to do so as a fiction author. I imagine scenarios that are jam-packed with suspense, action, life-and-death decisions, and of course gorgeous men that are at the center of it all. That last part is my favorite. I’ll admit it.

I can be engaged in a mundane task like weeding my yard for example. A truck will drive by and even though I know exactly which neighbor is in that truck and that it drives by at precisely that time every single weekday, I’ll pretend the driver is a 6’4” ex-Marine dressed in all black. He’s wearing dark sunglasses, a scant beard circles his full lips, and he’s got a gun on the passenger seat. A gun he plans to use. He peels around the corner in front of my house, screeches to a stop, and jumps out of his truck. In three long strides, he is standing beside me, the tips of his black boots touching my pile of yanked dandelions.

“Let’s go,” he says.

I look up with a you-talking-to-me expression on my face… and streaks of sweat and dirt no doubt from my toiling in the yard.

“There isn’t much time. They’ll be here any minute. I’m your only chance.” He extends a big, sturdy-looking hand to me.

I gape at it, mesmerized by the size of his fingers and the calluses on his palm. Man hands. Oh, boy, do I love some man hands.

Sliding my soil-covered hand into his, I let him pull me to my feet. I’m wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and a baseball cap, but somehow I’m pulling off a cute, girl-next-door look and not the sloppy gardener look I’m usually sporting.

He whisks me into his truck, hops into the driver’s seat, and we’re off.

Away from danger.

Or perhaps into it.

Either way, I’ll be on an adventure—if only in my mind—until my weeding task is done. Then I’ll most likely be attacked by fictional ninjas while I’m folding the laundry.

Danger. It’s nowhere… and everywhere.

For more fictional danger, try my book Firefly Mountain which includes firefighters, a lunatic arsonist, and a paranormal ability capable of really heating things up.

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

8 Things That Should Always Be Hot

1.     Tea – I’ve been hung up on peppermint tea this winter and simply must have it piping hot. Like, scorch-your-throat hot.

2.      Chicken soup – Soup is of no use unless you can hover over it and completely steam your face in the wafting vapors. My grandmother would not be pleased if I served her recipe in a lukewarm or—God forbid—cold fashion.

3.      The fireplace – Nothing says cozy like a roaring fire on a frosty winter night. Where I live, there have been a multitude of these this winter. I’ve spent many hours warming myself by both gas and wood stoves, and I love them both equally.

4.      Sunshine – I always find it interesting that even in the middle of winter, I can sit in a sunny spot near a window and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. The sun doesn’t let you down in terms of hot. The air, on the other hand, can be brutal.

5.      UPS delivery guys – I don’t know if it’s just my neighborhood or what, but these guys in brown are always attractive. Many of them are bearded (sigh) and when they are hauling boxes around, they are just plain sexy.

6.      Tropical islands – It’s nice to know that while I’m freezing my bottom off in the north, somewhere near the equator the temperatures are hot and palm trees sway in a balmy breeze. I can imagine I’m on a beach blanket and escape for a little while.

7.      Cookies straight from the oven – I don’t think this one needs explaining. All it needs is milk.

8.      Romance novels – I read these because they are hot. I write these because they are hot.

What would you add to this list?

 

For some hot fun, try my book Firefly Mountain. It’s got a hot firefighter, a hot photographer, several really hot secrets, and an arsonist bent on making a hot mess of a cozy Vermont town.

 

Toodles!

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

Love

Think about how many times a day you say you “love” something.

 

“I love this song.”

 

“I love these cookies.”

“I love your boots.”

 

“I love snowshoeing.”

 

Love, love, love. That word often rolls right off our tongues whenever we enjoy something, but we don’t always appreciate what the word encompasses. Love is one of those words that has degrees of meaning. You say you love your new sweater, but would you feel empty inside if you lost it or it got damaged? Would you sob if it shrunk in the dryer? Would you defend its honor? Would you die for it?

 

Of course not, so do you really “love” it?

 

This February, with Valentine’s Day just around the corner, I challenge you to think about what you really do love in your life right now. Take an inventory and if there are important people on your Love List, tell them so. Show them. And if there’s something keeping you from professing and displaying your love, get over it.

 

Life is short. Love is one of the best parts of life. Enjoy all the love you can.

 

For more love, try any one of my books. Happily ever afters guaranteed. Visit www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com.

 

 

Toodles,

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com Adult Romance

www.christymajor.weebly.com YA Romance

www.goodwinreed.weebly.com Political Thrillers

Wonderful Weddings

I hate real-life weddings. If I get an invitation to one in the mail, I try to stuff it back into the mailbox, say a magic spell, and hope with every fiber of my being that it'll disappear.

It never does.

Fictional weddings, on the other hand, I love. LOVE! I could attend those weddings all day long. I'd love to be a guest at them, admire the bride's dress, witnesses the meaningful, well-worded vows, eat the culinary delights at the reception, and dance the night away with the groom's wacky cousin.

Writing wedding scenes is one of the highlights of writing romance. They are spots in a book where, as a writer, you can create perfection. The wedding can be anything you want it to be--maybe everything you wish your own wedding had been. You get to pick your location, design dresses, put sexy men in tuxedos, use symbolism to illustrate the relationship between the bride and groom...all without the real-life worry of who is going to pay for all of it.

Here's a clip from a wedding scene in my novel FIREFLY MOUNTAIN:

“Take it down a notch, okay?” It was taking a bit

of effort to keep the anger at bay. Gini made a

decision right then to stay away from Lily for the

rest of her stay in Rhode Island to be on the safe

side. “Your sister is a great person, and she deserves

a perfect day. You making comments and sulking

around makes it un-perfect.”

Lily opened her mouth, but Gini held up a hand.

“Just fade into the background. It’s not about you.”

Gini slipped out the French doors in the dining

room before Lily could say anything. She crossed the

wide patch of pristine lawn to the gazebo and chairs

set up for family and friends. There had to be at

least four hundred chairs by Gini’s estimate. She

thought of the Matthews wedding she had

photographed in Burnam. Seventy-five guests tops.

On the bride’s family farm. Bride and groom had

worn jeans and arrived at the ceremony on

horseback. The reception was a barbecue.

Looking around at the mini water fountains,

flowers, and candles in crystal holders set up on the

round tables under hundreds of tiny lights strung

through the trees, Gini didn’t think ribs on the grill

or jeans would make an appearance tonight.

Newport was a world away from Burnam. Love

would be the only common factor between Willow’s

wedding and the Matthews wedding, and Gini
supposed that was all you needed anyway.

Not that she’d ever know.

“It’s not about you either,” she told herself.

Shaking her head, she walked deeper into the area

and started snapping photos of the decorations, the

waiting gazebo, the prepped tables, the string

quartet setting up, the ocean kissing the sand in the

backdrop.

That shore at the edge of the property had called

to her all day, but Willow had kept Gini busy with

this and that. There hadn’t been a free moment to

steal away to the beach and test the water with her

bare toes. But tomorrow. Tomorrow was another

day. Willow and Andrew would be off on their

honeymoon in Australia, but had said Gini was

welcome to stay with Mrs. Greene and Lily in the

cottage for as long as she wanted. So tempting to

stay for weeks, but Gini would make do with a day,

two tops. She planned to bike ride along the coast

tomorrow morning and be a beach bum for the rest

of the day. She couldn’t wait.

Gini took a few more pictures of the grounds and

caught a lovely sailboat gliding by on the water. The

sun had almost disappeared below the horizon.

Purple-pink streaks hovered above the dark water

now, and a nearly full moon climbed to its zenith in

the starry sky. The night was hot, but a soft breeze

off the ocean kept it from being stifling. The air
sifted through tall grasses that lined the border

between lawn and sandy shore. The gentle swish

was a music all its own.

“Gini!”

She turned around to see Willow leaning out a

windowsill, dressed in white, several feet of stone

cottage beneath her. The contrast between soft white

wedding dress and rough gray rock was too much for

Gini to resist. She snapped a picture, loving the play

of textures.

“Come in here,” Willow called.

Gini waved and walked back to the cottage. She

climbed the stairs and raised her hand to open the

back door. Before her fingers made contact though,

the door opened. Willow clamped onto Gini’s arm

and yanked her inside. She pulled Gini upstairs into

a bedroom and closed the door.

“What am I doing?” Willow’s eyes were wide, her

skin pale.

“Getting married, I think,” Gini said.

“Why is my heart pounding? I don’t feel right. I

think I’m going to vomit.” Willow sat on the end of

the bed and pulled Gini down beside her. “Is it hot in

here? I was cold like two seconds ago and now it’s

boiling in here? Are you boiling?”

“Yikes,” Gini said. “Take a breath, Willow.

What’s happening?”

“I think I’m freaking out. Andrew called me to

let me know he’s at the main house and can’t wait to

see me, to marry me.” She stood and paced in front

of Gini. “Now, I can’t breathe.”

“Okay, okay.” Gini stood too and grasped

Willow’s shoulders to stop her from wearing a rut in

the carpet. “You’re just a little anxious. You love

Andrew, right?”

“More than anything.”

“See, you didn’t have to think twice about that

answer, Willow. This is right. You know it is.”

Willow grinned. “It

is right. Andrew and I are
meant to be husband and wife. I lost it for a minute
there. Lily’s comments just kept circling through my
head, and suddenly I thought I was making a
monumental mistake.” She shook her head. “Not

marrying Andrew would be a monumental mistake.”

“All better?” Gini relaxed her grip on Willow.

“Yes. I’m ready.” Willow hugged Gini as a soft

knock sounded on the door.

 

“Willow, it’s time,” Mrs. Greene called.

“I’m ready,” Willow said again. She took Gini’s

hand and tugged her to the door. “Get that camera

ready. I’m going to need proof that I’ve actually said,

‘I do.’”

Do you like weddings? What is your favorite thing about them? What don't you like about weddings? (C'mon, you know there is something you don't like.)

Want more romantic fun with Gini Claremont and Patrick Barre in Firefly Mountain? Buy it from Amazon in print or ebook here.

Toodles,
Chris
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

Lead the Way - A Post about Beginnings

Happy 2013, Everyone!

This month’s theme is about new beginnings, so I thought I’d talk about the beginnings of stories, referred to as “leads” or “hooks.” When I teach this concept to my fifth grade writing students, I break leads up into seven categories as follows:

1.       Description of Setting: A great way to start a tale is to set the stage for the main events. A well-described setting can put your reader exactly where your characters are and that’s always a good thing. You want your readers to feel as if they have left wherever they are and have been transported to a new time and/or place.

2.       Description of Character: Your reader is going to be traveling with your character throughout the story, so showing what that main character looks like, sounds like, thinks about will help your reader connect with your hero/heroine. That connection is important to establish as soon as possible.

3.       Dialogue: Readers immediately get sucked into conversation between characters even if they aren’t sure what it’s about initially. Writing dialogue that sounds real and draws the reader in can be a wonderful way to begin a story. It helps readers feel as if they’ve been hanging around these characters for a while already and establishes a sense of familiarity. Dialogue can also arouse curiosity so readers will keep reading to see where the conversation ends up.

4.       Onomatopoeia: One of my favorite words! This refers to sound words such as crash, bang, and boom. Using onomatopoeia appeals to the reader’s sense of hearing, which can often be neglected when it comes to including sensory details in a piece of writing. I always like trying to come up with unique spellings to sounds like schlup, schlup, schlup for the noise of my dog drinking from his water bowl.

5.       Thoughts and Feelings: This is a great one especially if you like to write from first person point of view. Getting readers instantly into the heads and hearts of your characters always creates a strong lead that will carry the readers throughout the story. It’s especially fun if you have a sarcastic character who can’t always say what they are thinking aloud. With this lead style, you can provide the reader a glimpse into what the character wants to say, which can often be hilarious.

6.       Question: Beginning a story with a question automatically hooks a reader, because he/she will have to read on to see what the answer is.

7.       Interesting Fact: This is a good one for writing nonfiction, but I have seen it used in fiction too. Here, a writer chooses a relevant and true fact to begin his/her story. For example, 99% of humans cannot lick their own elbows. Interested in more? I’ll bet you are! And wouldn’t this be a great beginning for an erotic novel? Hmmm…I think my Muse just woke up.

While there is nothing overly complex or magical about these lead techniques, I think it helps to be reminded of them if you are a writer and to be aware of them if you are a reader. Writers can try to diversify their opening lines of their books, and readers can better understand the “how to” of what writers are doing in their novels.

Check out my books at www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com and see what lead techniques I use!

Toodles,
Chris

Recipe for a Happy Thanksgiving

This month is about recipes, so I decided to give you one that's not for food, but for fun instead.

Recipe for a Happy Thanksgiving

Ingredients:

-Turkey in any form. Yes, even microwavable turkey bacon is acceptable for those of you with limited culinary skills. Just be sure to get the good bread for that sorry BLT.
-Sweet potatoes. Mashed, baked, fries. You decide.
-Cranberry sauce. Homemade, whole berries from a can, or that wiggly jelly stuff that you can slice into disks that will inevitably slide all over your plate.
-Stuffing. My mother-in-law makes the best. I can loan her out to you for a price.
-Squash. The more veggies the better!
-Turnips. See above "more veggies" comment. Plus, how often do you eat turnips? Don't neglect them.
-Green beans. Get your brother to bring these. It's what he can handle. You know it's true.
-Wine. Depending on how well your family members get along, you can adjust the quantities as needed.
-Beer. You need something for the folks playing football in the backyard.
-Desserts. People often ask me if it should be cake, pie, cookies, or candy. To this, I reply with a boisterous, "YES."
-Hot cider, tea, coffee, hot chocolate. Put these items out as a signal to your guests that they should expect to be kicked out soon.

Steps:
1. Gather suggested ingredients in a location where you can fit all this food and people have room to sit back and make groaning noises after eating too much.
2. Gather friends and family members to consume ingredients.
3. Get people hungry with a loosely organized game of football. Keep an eye on Uncle Harry who sweats like a pig even when he's not moving.
4. Guzzle beer after game. Guzzle two if you were on the losing team.
5. Arm people with plates and forks and start passing around the grub. Ooo and ahh over all the food and how good everything is.
6. Sit back in chair and pat stomach like you're full even though you fully intend to continue eating.
7. Repeat step 5-6 at least three more times.
8. Pass out on the couch while Planes, Trains, and Automobiles plays on the TV.
9. Wake up with a craving for something sweet. Forget about diet and dive head first into the dessert table. Don't come up for air until you're good and sugared.
10. Pass out on the couch again.
11. Play a game with the kids. Hide and seek works well. No one says you actually have to "seek." Depending on how smart your kids are, this could be a very quiet time in the day.
12. Swear you'll wear sweatpants next Thanksgiving.
13. BE THANKFUL!

If you celebrate Thanksgiving, I wish you a fun and safe one. If you survive the day, spend the night with a good book. Find one here.

Gobbles and pumpkin pies,
Chris

Pumpkin Pie and Books

Autumn is one of my favorite seasons. I’m a diehard Summer fan, but still enjoy what Autumn has to offer, more specifically, its food.

I make pumpkin pie almost weekly during the months of October and November. Here’s my recipe, which has pleased an abundance of pumpkin pie connoisseurs over the years:

Crumble-topped Vermont Pumpkin Pie

Ingredients:

1 15-oz. can pumpkin

1 14-oz. can sweetened condensed milk (fat free works fine)

1 egg

1 ¼ tsp ground cinnamon

½ tsp each ground ginger, nutmeg, salt

2 tsp pure Vermont maple syrup (I make this myself. So much fun!)

1 pie crust (pre-made ones are fine if you don’t have time to whip up one from scratch)

¼ cup firmly packed dark brown sugar

2 Tbsp flour

2 Tbsp cold butter (margarine is fine)

¾ cup chopped walnuts

Steps:

1.       Preheat oven to 425⁰. Use  a wire whisk to beat pumpkin, condensed milk, egg, maple syrup, ¾ tsp. cinnamon, ½ tsp. ginger, nutmeg, and salt. Pour into crust.

2.       Bake 15 minutes.

3.      While that's baking, combine sugar, flour, and remaining cinnamon. Cut in butter until crumbly. Stir in walnuts. Remove crust from oven. Reduce oven to 350⁰. Sprinkle topping mixture over pie.

4.      Bake for another 40 minutes. Cool. Serve warm or at room temperature. Refrigerate leftovers (if there are any!).

 

I also love pumpkin muffins, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin waffles, pumpkin bread, pumpkin spiced tea, and pumpkin soup, all of which I try to make throughout the season. You might think I’d get sick of pumpkin by the time winter rolls around, but strangely, I don’t. You can never have too much pumpkin!

I hope you try my pie recipe and it causes many rounds of yummy noises to emanate from your family members and friends. I find pumpkin pie is best served with hot apple cider and a good book.

Here are a book you may enjoy with your treat:

FIREFLY MOUNTAIN

Firefighter Patrick Barre is determined to hide away in the woods of Vermont. He's content to do his job, remodel his house, and enjoy the company of his arson-detection dog, Midas. Scars from the fire that destroyed his family keep him from letting anyone into his life.

Gini Claremont uses her camera to celebrate the beauty of life. Nature soothes her, while anger is dangerous for Gini--and anyone near her. If she doesn't guard her emotions, her surroundings could go up in flames. Living alone, keeping busy, and letting her family keep watch on her is best for
everyone.

When an arsonist declares war on their town, Patrick and Gini reluctantly band together to sift through the ashes, each holding a secret close to the heart. As the arson escalates, so does their mutual attraction. Will teaming up put out the fires, or start a whole new one?

Firefly Mountain can be found on Amazon along with all my other titles. Please visit my website as well here.

Happy Pie Eating and Reading,
Chris

The Most Psychotic Moment in FIREFLY MOUNTAIN

 

In FIREFLY MOUNTAIN, an arsonist plays a role in heating up the small town of Burnam, Vermont for main characters Patrick and Gini.

 

Excerpt:

 

No better color in the world. Inferno orange. Vibrant and alive. She loved the flecks of yellow and red that chased each other through the blaze. Reaching higher, gaining strength, throwing a scorching heat that melted everything in its path.

 

Such power, such divine power. It filled her. Scared away the dark shadows threatening to swallow her at every turn. Nothing could touch her when a fire burned. It surrounded her, protected her, made her feel real. She was a candle, and without the flame, she was useless.

 

This particular fire flickered in time with her pulse. The smoky scent of old wood caressed her nose. Made her think of all those campfires she didn’t enjoy as a child. Those campfires where her father told her she was a no good mistake. Told her the world wouldn’t ever accept her. Never understand her.

 

He’d been right, but she was changing that. The fire made it possible. If she could cause such destruction, the world would have to notice. Have to deal with her. Have to try to stop her.

 

As if they could.

The warmth from this blaze reddened her cheeks. Couldn’t get too close. Close was dangerous. Windows smashed with the pressure. Glass sprayed, a million heated shards catapulting into the cosmos. Walls crumbled. Family photographs curled and turned to ash. They’d rebuild, but that wouldn’t stop the next fire from being born. Wouldn’t stop the reverence they’d now have toward the strongest of the elements.

Fire was king and she its loyal subject.

 

 

ABOUT FIREFLY MOUNTAIN:

 

Firefighter Patrick Barre is determined to hide away in the woods of Vermont. He's content to do his job, remodel his house, and enjoy the company of his arson-detection dog, Midas. Scars from the fire that destroyed his family keep him from letting anyone into his life.

 

Gini Claremont uses her camera to celebrate the beauty of life. Nature soothes her, while anger is dangerous for Gini--and anyone near her. If she doesn't guard her emotions, her surroundings could go up in flames. Living alone, keeping busy, and letting her family keep watch on her is best for everyone.

 

When an arsonist declares war on their town, Patrick and Gini reluctantly band together to sift through the ashes, each holding a secret close to the heart. As the arson escalates, so does their mutual attraction.

 

Will teaming up put out the fires, or start a whole new one?

Buy FIREFLY MOUNTAIN from AMAZON or The Wild Rose Press. Also available in PRINT.


Matches and candles,
Chris
www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

Ice Cream Excerpts

July is Ice Cream Month. I don't know who decided that. It certainly wasn't me, because I worship ice cream for twelve months every year, but that's just me. I love it so much that ice cream often makes it into my stories. Here's two examples:

From ABRA CADAVER, available now. Holly is conducting experiments with Keane to see how much of his sense of taste has returned to him.

Holly wiped her finger on the towel

she’d brought from the bathroom. “Anything you

really would like to taste? Anything you crave?”

Good gods, yes.

He cleared his throat and focused on the words

necessary to compose an intelligent response to

Holly’s question. “That frozen stuff you eat

sometimes. Ice cream. You seem to really enjoy it.”

“I do.” She pulled him off the couch and dragged

him to the kitchen. Pointing to one of the kitchen

chairs, she said, “Sit.”

Keane did as he was told. Seeing the light in her

eyes, he would have done anything she asked.

Holly opened the freezer and scanned the two

shelves in there. “Cookie dough, maple walnut, or

mocha fudge swirl?”

“You have three kinds of ice cream?”

“I have six, but I’m only sharing a taste of one of

those three. A girl needs to be stingy about her

emergency ice cream rations.” She closed the freezer

door and hugged the refrigerator. She stepped back

and opened the freezer again. “What’ll it be, Keane?”

“Mocha fudge swirl, though I’m not sure I’ll

know what it’s supposed to taste like.”

“Excellent choice, and if it feels as if you need a

cigarette after tasting this ice cream, you’ll know

you’ve tasted it for real.”

Holly grabbed a spoon from a drawer and

scooped up a little mocha fudge swirl. Toting the

spoon, she walked to Keane at the kitchen table and

said, “Where do you want it?” She held her hands

out to either side of her as if offering her entire body

as a serving platter.

He had trouble swallowing, but he managed to

say, “I can choose anywhere?”

Holly nodded. “But hurry, or it’s going to melt.”
Buy at Amazon.

***

From Firefly Mountain, coming in October. Patrick has just cooked Gini a dinner so she wouldn't eat peanut butter crackers from her purse for supper.

Patrick took their salad plates to the sink when

they’d finished, and Gini liked how at home he
appeared in her kitchen.

He twirled spaghetti onto her dinner plate then

filled his own. The bright colors of tomato, broccoli,
carrot, and pepper fancied up the pasta, and he’d
drizzled a light pesto sauce over it all. When Gini
took a bite, she couldn’t stop the satisfied hum that
escaped her.“One brat, thoroughly loving this meal,” she
said.

“Better than crackers, yes?”

“Definitely.” Gini took a few more bites, wiped

her mouth, and looked up at Patrick. “Thank you.”

“No problem. It was easy to make.”

“Thank you for back at the hospital too.” Gini

focused her attention on the bottom of her glass as
she took a drink.

“Also no problem.” Patrick fiddled with the fork

in his hand. “It was easy to be hugged by you. And to
hug you.”

Gini gazed at him now and forgot all the rules as

she stared into his hazel eyes swirling brown and
green like running through a forest. He smiled and
dove back into his spaghetti. Gini resumed eating as
well and enjoyed the companionable silence that
hung between them, nothing but the sound of jazz on
a piano filling the kitchen.

When the food was gone and the dishes washed

and dried, Gini opened the freezer and took out a
container.

“I’ve got dessert covered,” she said. “You’re not

allergic to walnuts, are you?”

Patrick shook his head and leaned against the

counter next to Gini to see what she had. “Ice
cream?”

“Yep. Maple walnut. Made it myself.” She

dropped three rounded scoops into a bowl and
handed it to Patrick.

“Wow. Maybe you’re not the person I originally

thought you were either.”

“You mean maybe I’m not a brat?” Gini smirked

as she put the ice cream back into the freezer after
filling a bowl for herself.

“Oh no, you’re still a brat,” Patrick said, “but

you’re a skilled brat.”

For a great tune about ice cream, try Sarah McLachlan here.

That's got to be some serious love to be BETTER than ice cream! Come on! :)

What's your favorite kind of ice cream?

Chris

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

www.nighteternal.weebly.com