If you sign up for my newsletter, I’ll send you a free short story, The Diary of Emily West, the Yellow Rose of Texas. In my newsletter, you’ll get updates on my new books, short excerpts from the next one coming out, and recipes (I love to cook). Go to my e-mail – carolynrwilliamson@charter.net, type “Free Story and Newsletter in the subject line, and type your first and last name in the message space.
I met Pam from Louisiana at an Oklahoma writer’s seminar for the great agent and teacher, Donald Maas. She writes sweet romance, which dangles on the border between sweet and all out sexy. And now, she has a book set in Texas.
Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.”
When life takes everything, your world stops. Can a retreat heal the broken lives of two wounded souls?
Melena Rhyker’s world shattered the day her husband died. Lost without the man of her dreams, she digs deep to find a path out of her sorrow. Discovering an artistic retreat, she vows to find a reason to carry on and focus her life in a new direction. Can she heal her own heart, and find her new beginning?
Garrett Saunders knows pain. He’s spent most of his life hiding from his past. Regrets and lies haunt him, but he longs to leave them behind and embrace his true self. Will Melena’s efforts to rebuild her life in the face of such grief encourage him to exorcise his own demons of guilt and shame?
Will two hurting people find peace, wholeness and perhaps love in the heart of Texas?
Excerpt: At 6 p.m., she pulled into the carport, turned off the engine and laid her head on the steering wheel.
“Well, I’m home again. Made it through another agonizing eight hours or so, now to get through another night.” Gathering every ounce of courage she could summon, she disembarked from her vehicle, retrieved the mail from the box beside the door, and entered the house. She thumbed through the envelopes and advertisements, then laid them on the table and poured a glass of juice. She reached for the bottle of over-the-counter pain reliever and froze.
It would be so easy to end this pain.
Oh, what an enticing thought. Just take a handful of pills and end it all. Would she wake up in heaven? Would Jesus meet her there? Would Jonathan? What about the kids or Mama—would they understand? Or would she destroy them? Where was the faith she claimed to have? Why was it failing her now?
Get Pamela Thibodeaux’s second chance women’s fiction novel today and see how love and faith conquers all.
I grew up there, so certain things did not surprise me until I moved to Detroit, where there are lots of skyscrapers. City buildings are not supposed to be higher than the Washington Monument, which is 555 feet high. People ask why the tip of the monument is a different shade. The simple answer is that when they had enough money to finish building it, the same type of stone was no longer available.
Washington, D.C. streets are named alphabetically as they spread out from the capital. North-south streets are numbered. The first east-west set of streets leading from the Capitol have letters of the alphabet for names. The second set has two-syllable names. The third set has three syllable names. A fourth set in the N.W. section has tree and flower names. Some of the street names continue into Bethesda and Chevy Chase, Maryland.
I lived on Ninth Street in the third alphabet, (near Tewkesbury Street) but when my cousin in the Waves asked for leave to visit us, her supervisor refused because Ninth Street near downtown was a dangerous area. My cousin finally got permission after she convinced her supervisor we lived in a nice safe neighborhood.
On my birthday, December 7, 1941, I was a child who wanted to visit the Washington Monument. My father took me, but refused to walk up the stairs, so we rode the elevator. I got to look out the window and see the view before he allowed me to walk down the stairs.
After we left, we rode down Sixteenth Street past the Japanese Embassy. I noticed them burning papers outside, but thought nothing of it. Since that’s not a high drought area, that was commonly done with leaves and paper trash. However, when we returned to my grandparents’ house where we were staying, we listened to the radio and learned of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. From that day on, until the war was over, no one was allowed to go to the top of the Washington Monument.
On this rainy morning after the horrific shooting of innocent children, I search to find something good to write about. As my Google Assistant plays the Liberty Bell March by John Philip Sousa, composed in 1893, I remember my father telling me he rode a bus or streetcar to hear his band play. I also remember my father reading stories to me at bedtime, and I am glad to have a happy childhood.
Even though my mother died of cancer when I was twelve, I was lucky to gain a stepmother, another set of grandparents, another brother, and two sisters at the age of fifteen. I’m also lucky to have survived breast cancer.
While my knee ached when I began a walk around the block, I quit because it was raining, but I’m glad I can still walk, and the ground and plants get needed moisture.
As I sit pondering how to finish my latest novel, I’m glad I can type, even if I’m not a fast typist, but at least I type faster than I can write by hand. Although I’m lucky to have had three novels published by traditional publishers and another soon to be published by Wild Rose Press, I’m glad Amazon and other organizations make it possible for me and other authors to self-publish novels and make them available.
While I scrambled eggs for my husband, I was glad I had eggs and that my older husband is still alive to keep me company.
While at times I have wondered how I was going to pay all my bills in time, I’m glad we have a house and enough money to buy food and pay bills. And best of all, I can afford to go to the Romance Writers of America annual conference near Washington, D.C. and be enthused and energized to write some more novels.
How about you? How many blessings have you taken for granted? I bet if you count them, you’ll find your life is richer than you realized.
Extra, extra, read all about it, the newsboys used to shout when I was a kid. They don’t do that anymore now that we get instant news on TV and cell phones. But here is some news about eggs that you may find helpful.
Eggs like people can be sensitive. If you drop them in boiling liquid, they will curdle or form lumps. To combine eggs with hot liquid, pour a little of the hot liquid into the eggs and stir it in. Then, you can add that mixture to the hot liquid.
To make Hollandaise Sauce, stir over low heat with the butter in chunks. As the butter slowly melts, the eggs will thicken the sauce.
To make hard boiled eggs, lower the eggs gently into boiling water and cook for ten minutes. Then pour the hot water out and fill the pan with cold water. Let set for a few minutes and then chill in the refrigerator. That should avoid the green rings around the yolk.
To beat egg whites, be sure the bowl and beaters are clean without any egg yolk left on them. Adding ¼ – ½ teaspoon cream of tartar helps. (Use 1/4 tsp. for 2 egg whites) If you want to add sugar, do it when soft peaks start to form, then beat until the peaks stand up. The sugar will help the egg white membranes stretch to make more volume.
To fold egg whites into a mixture, add a small amount of eggs whites to the mixture and fold in with a rubber scraper. Then add more and use cutting and folding motions.
Since I use a hand mixer, when one wears out, I keep the beaters and buy another of the same brand and model. That way I accumulate extra beaters so I don’t have to wash them while I’m preparing a dish.
Making Chinese Dumplings – a cross-cultural experience
“What are dumplings like in China?” I asked my backdoor neighbor from Shanghai. ”Are they like American Chicken and Dumplings, made from biscuit-like dough and steeped in gravy?” As a romantic suspense writer, I often show my characters eating food in other countries, but have never mentioned characters eating Chinese food in a restaurant.
Kathy smiled and answered my question by saying, “Come tomorrow at 2:00 and I will teach you to make some.”
After I knocked on her back door, she invited me in and showed me a bowl with a green and beige mixture. “That’s fresh ground pork and watercress from a Chinese market.”
She showed me how to spread a rounded teaspoon of the pork mixture on flour dumpling skins, thin four by four squares of dough. That part was easy. I moistened the top edge and folded the bottom over the pork. Then I had to flip the top 1/4th inch down, moisten the bottom left corner, twist the dough to the back, and pinch the tails together beneath the lump. The whole thing was supposed to look like a nun’s head with a cap hanging down the sides. It took me several tries to get it right.
She set a bunch on a container’s plastic top dusted with flour to keep them from sticking and set the whole thing in the freezer. When they were frozen, she slid them into the bag.
On the stove sat a pan with chicken broth. When it boiled, she slid the dumplings into the liquid. When the dumplings finally rose to the top, she turned off the burner and added a bowl of cold water. “Now,” she said. “we must wait for the broth to boil and the dumplings to rise to the top again.”
After she pronounced them done, she gave me a bowl with plain dumplings, accompanied by magenta colored rice vinegar to dip the dumpling in. Her husband, Ted, an American who’d lived in Shanghai several years, gave me a spoon and handed me chopsticks. He then gave me a lesson on using chopsticks. One should be held steady, braced against my middle finger, while the other moves to secure the item of food. I tried to pick up the dumpling with the chopsticks, but had to settle for the spoon. I dipped the dumpling in the rice vinegar, made from sweet rice and took a bite. I was surprised to find it was tasty and not as sour as I expected.
As I ate the dumplings Kathy had served me in chicken broth, I stuck to using the spoon. These were good, also. I asked if the Chinese ever put any vegetables in the broth along with the dumplings, but Kathy said that was never done. However, the vegetables mixed with the pork might vary, according to what was available, like carrots, and she sometimes made dumplings with shrimp..
Now for the supreme test, preparing some for my husband. Kathy gave me a clear, plastic bag with nine dumplings we had made to take home. The next day I boiled beef broth and dropped in the frozen dumplings. Like I’d been instructed, I waited until the broth boiled, and the dumplings rose to the top. I turned off the heat on my electric stove, poured a small bowl of cold water into the pan, then turned on the heat to high. After the liquid boiled, and the dumplings rose to the top, I filled two bowls with the soup and two dumplings each. We had to wait a few moments until it was cool enough to eat, but they tasted good.
My husband asked how I liked doing Chinese cooking, and I replied it seemed like a lot of work, but I enjoyed learning how dumplings were made in the southern area of China.
I’m so excited that I finally have a cover for Romancing the Doctor, which will be released in January.
Reporter Heather McKinley is thrilled to discover she’s finally pregnant, even though she’s divorcing her husband. She finds an injured dog beside the road and takes him to a vet, where she meets the vet’s interesting brother, brilliant CDC Researcher Daniel Whistler.
Daniel wants Heather, but he also wants to stop the spread of the mysterious virus that makes men and women infertile and even kills some people. He persuades her to travel to Atlanta with him and visit his CDC office, but he feels his actions in the past made him unworthy of her.
After Heather and her sister have miscarriages, Heather joins Daniel in a search for the cause of the plague and the man who set it in motion. They follow outbreaks of the disease in Atlanta, Dallas, New Orleans, and even on a Caribbean cruise ship, but can’t seem to catch the perpetrator. Then Heather disappears on the cruise ship.
Would you believe I wrote this book, and it was published before I even heard of Covid 19? I received the rights back from the publisher, and am re-issuing it in January with the same name, but a different cover.
Go to Carolyn Rae Author (Facebook) at 6-8 CDT for the Launch Party for Holiday with a Royal. Comment for a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card. You’ll find a recipe for cheese puffs and interesting tidbits I learned while researching the Cordillera Royals Series.
Sometimes family and life get in the way of writing and sharing with you. My husband’s brother had a stroke, and we are leaving for Mississippi in the morning, so my Holiday with a Royal, Cordillera Royals, Book Four, launch party is postponed until next Saturday, October 23 from 5-8 (CDT)
Holiday with a Royal will still be released on October 16th, and Pretend Princess, Cordillera Royals, Book One, will still be free until tomorrow (October 16th).
You’re invited to join me on Saturday October 23rd from 5-8 CDT at my re-scheduled book launch party. Comment for a chance to win a prize. I’ll include some interesting information about the Cordillera Royals and a recipe for Gougeres, French cheese puffs, which are served at a restaurant in Cordillera Ciudad, mentioned in Forgotten Princess. I made some, and they were delicious.
Here’s an excerpt from Chapter One.
Librarian Kelly Chandler, who wants to be a travel writer, is now stranded at the Tenerife Airport with her friend, Stephanie.
He carried a briefcase, but his gold shirt and khaki shorts showed off a broad chest and powerful legs. “You look troubled, miss? I hate to see such a lovely lady in distress. Is there something I can help you with?” Mr. Handsome’s deep voice rolled over me like a wave splashing on the sand. Wow, he’d called me lovely, but why did he seem so concerned? He didn’t know me, and I was nobody special.
Mr. Handsome motioned to his bodyguard to step back, then stood tall and imposing in front of me. A touch of manly after shave wafted my way, and a smile lit up his face. “What a cute accent. Where are you from?”
I smiled. “Bedford, Texas.”
“I’m Mario Santiago, and Ernesto is my bodyguard.” He held out his hand for me to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Chandler. I’m here to change my flight, but let me see what I can do for you.”
I enjoyed the warmth of his hand and his captivating smile. He dropped my hand but continued to smile.
I glanced at my friend, now checking her phone. “This is my friend, Stephanie.” Unlike me with my hair in a ponytail and a slash of lipstick, her dark hair curled becomingly around her face, and her make-up was perfect.
She looked up, and her eyes opened wide. “Hi. I never expected to see you here.” “I’m pleased to meet you again, Signorina Stephanie.”
Where had my friend gotten to know this dreamboat?
As a volunteer at the mobile food pantry at our church, I miss greeting people as I hand out items such as potatoes, carrots, onions, or other vegetables, stacked on long tables to people from the neighborhood as they walk by. The last time, I helped, I pushed a big shopping cart, often hard to steer, and stocked it with items as I passed by. I stacked frozen chicken, yogurt, beans, rice, juice, canned goods, and milk in a large box. At the end of the line, men lifted out boxes, added some bread or cake, and then loaded them into the trunks of cars as they pass by. If any food was left, people loaded it into Mission Central’s truck to go to the food pantry that is open on weekdays.
Here I am with a box ready to load into someone’s car.
Sunday mornings are different also. I can attend church in my nightgown with Lifestream or get dressed, put on a mask and sit in person in the pews. Our church probably holds 1,000 people, but only 222 attended in person last Sunday, while 516 watched at home.
Last Thanksgiving we ate dinner in the family room. My husband, my daughter, son-in-law, and I got vaccinated. One daughter refuses to be vaccinated, and we hope she stays healthy, but she will eat at the table with us.
Me, my husband, my grandson, and my two daughters.Thanksgiving Dinner
Publishing my books is different also. I used to attend group signings of romance books at stores and libraries. Now I show their covers online and hope a large number of people see the cover pictures and take time to read about the story. My next book, Holiday with a Royal, Cordillera Royals Book Four, will be released October 16th.
Heroine Kelly Chandler wants to become a travel writer, but she misses boarding the plane in Tenerife (an island in the Atlantic Ocean belonging to Spain) to go to Paris. She’s stunned when handsome Prince Mario manages to get the airline to hold the plane for her and she’s delighted to sit beside him in first class.
Check out Pretend Princess, Cordillera Royals Book One, now on sale.
Here we thought we were getting the best of Covid, and along comes Delta and Mu. Three of my writer’s groups planned to do in-person meetings in September, but now only one is brave (or should I say fool-hardy) enough to open, but they will do Zoom in addition.
My big news is that Holiday with a Royal, Book Four in the Cordillera Royals Series will be released on September 30. Kelly Chandler, a redheaded librarian who wants to become a travel writer, gets stranded in the Tenerife Airport, but soccer star, Prince Mario Santiago, is there to save the day and join in her adventures in Spain.
Coming September 30, 2021
My other news is that an agent is interested in pitching Romancing the Vet for a movie. However, with most deals, it is wait and see. One member of my DFW Writer’s Workshop actually got her story made into a Hallmark movie, and she got to be an extra in one scene. I will be calling the agent today to see if anyone accepted a deal.
Besides writing, I have been helping out elementary kids by tutoring them in math and reading by Zoom. Our volunteers used to do it at a building in person, but only a few of the kids seem willing to do it in Zoom.
Another way I have found to volunteer is at the mobile food distribution at my church on the second Friday of each month. I “go shopping” by loading up a grocery cart with cans and cartons. Last time, this included a frozen chicken, containers of orange juice, tomato sauce, yogurt, eggs, bread, and other stuff. Men would load the boxes into waiting car trunks, and hopefully, that would feed a family for several days.
Here I am with boxes of food ready to load into cars.
Carolyn Rae - Where Suspense and Passion Coexist amidst Danger and Delight 