Diane Saxon Blog Spot

Currently a free promotion is running on my hot historical romance Midnight Caller. The first novella in the Moonlight Romance series is free on Amazon and iTunes. I love star-crossed lovers.   Romeo and Juliet  is probably the most famous example. Although I much prefer when the lovers find a way to make their forbidden romance work! I always like to root for the underdog, and as individualist I get excited when characters dare to break society’s rules. I write historical romance… and while star-crossed lovers can exist in every genre they are more prevalent in historical romance. A common off-shoot of this trope is loving above one’s station. Whether it is the maid falling in love with the millionaire, the jester falling in love with the princess or the commoner falling in love with the socialite they can all make me sigh with pleasure. Since this is my favorite trope I think it is only natural that I have tried my hand at it. Midnight Caller uses this trope, but it is

She smiled, satisfied with the pungent aroma of Christmas. Cinnamon and apples, wild plums and sultanas. She loaded the apples into the pan, glanced up as her husband shook the wet from his fur before shifting into his human form. Stark naked, his warm eyes twinkled at her from across the kitchen. “Good run?” “Hmmm, Zeke raced me. I won.” “Of course you did.” He stepped closer, sending a river of longing through her veins. “Smells like Christmas.” The deep resonance of his Irish voice tempted her to abandon her project. “I won’t be long. Once I put this little bag in the pan, it just needs to simmer for around three hours.” “Three hours.” His eyebrows raised, gave a little twitch. “I’ll be in the shower. She leaned over the counter to admire his swift swagger and his very fine ass. The recipe http://www.deliaonline.com/recipes/type-of-dish/chutney/spiced-damson-chutney.html

Lila’s Wolf blog tour The one with Richard Hammond and the exotic food You know what it's like when you go on a foreign holiday, and the food is unfamiliar, and you aren't sure what to eat. Everything looks strange, especially if you're not used to adventurous food. I loved one of the Top Gear specials, where the guys were riding a variety of motorbikes across Vietnam. Richard Hammond had a deep mistrust of the local food, and ended up eating breakfast cereal. All the time. I couldn't help feeling sorry for him. In my new time travel series, that would be a constant problem for my travellers. They can't exactly take their own food with them, when they go hundreds of years back in time. They're supposed to be fitting in with the locals, and embedding themselves fully in the period, and that means eating the local cuisine. How do you cope with exotic food? Do you dive in and try anything, or dig through the menu for something sa

Hi Libby it’s lovely to meet you and congratulations on your new release PASSIONATE HISTORY.  I’m really pleased you have brought Professor Worthy *strokes the sleeve of his jacket*  with you. Pull up a chair, grab a coffee and please excuse me while I *sigh, takes another stroke of his arm* …ask, Aidan (I can call you Aidan can’t I?) some questions. Aidan, it’s lovely to meet you. Uh, thanks, Diane, it’s lovely to be here. Can you tell me how you first felt when you met Bree? Bree was a breath of fresh air – young, vibrant, and enthusiastic about learning about Italian Renaissance art—my speciality. Was she one of your students? Er, yes, she was in my class the last semester of her senior year. Then we lost touch for a while, but she found me again at her five-year reunion. You must have young women *gulp, touches Aidan’s arm yet again* throwing themselves at you all the time. How do you deal with that on a professional basis? Well, I don’t…I mean, I hav

“Hmm, something smells good.” He nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck absorbing her scent. She always smelled sweet and womanly. “It’s a boiled fruit cake.” “A boiled cake?” Her body moved with the chuckle and he tightened his arms around her to appreciate it more, he snuggled her back closer to his chest as he peered over her shoulder. “Yep, it’s easy, see.” She fluttered fine, long fingers at the cake. It looked normal enough. The smell had his mouth watering. Then again, her smell had his mouth watering too. He was torn. Grab the babe and run for the bedroom or sample the cake? Could he have his cake and… Her sharp elbow to his ribs grabbed his attention again. “See, you dump all the ingredients into a pan, sultanas, raisins, cherries, water, butter, sugar. Boil it up for 15 minutes. Take it off the heat and when it’s cool, you simply throw in an egg, flour and spices. Pop it in a tin and bake for an hour.” She sliced the cake in two. Showed him the m

  The bittersweet smell of dark chocolate filled the kitchen, making his mouth water almost as much as the curvy woman swiping the melted goo over sheets of acetate. “You need to let it cool a little before you put it on or it curls the sheets.” With a delicate hand she slid the sheets into the fridge to set. Her warm cinnamon eyes met his. “You don’t need to watch.” He rested his elbow on the counter and grinned. “Yeah, I do.” Her responding smile made his heart warm. He watched her cute butt-wiggle while she measured ingredients into the mixer, shimmying to the sound of Adele with a fire in her heart. Much like the one in his. Thick chocolate frosting was whipped up then smoothed all over the three tier cake. Tempted to dip his finger in, he raised his hand. “Don’t think about it.” Like he wouldn’t dream of it, he rested his chin on his hand as though that had been his plan all along. She knew him so well, the gleam in her eye told him so.