Diane Saxon Blog Spot

The sharp tang of citrus coated his tongue and made him swallow in rapid succession as his mouth watered. The babe was at it again. What was she baking tonight? Would he get a chance to scoop some of the makings out of the bowl? Silent, he slipped into the kitchen, shifted into human form and studied the scene before him. Lemons, bright yellow, with a fresh zesty scent, not dissimilar to hers, only Catherine’s was overlaid with the sweet flavors of honey. Butter and sugar were all measured out as Catherine scraped the rind off the lemons adding it into the bowl and setting the mixer to beat in a loud rhythm that disguised his approach. Comfortable in his nakedness, he slipped his arms around her, snuggled her back into his chest, tucked his face into her neck and nuzzled. Nu uh, there was no better scent than Catherine. “Whatcha making?” She switched off the beaters, glanced at the almost white mixture.“Hot Lemon Pudding.” He let out a drawn out sigh of l...

Deep brown eyes pleaded with her. “You know you can’t have chocolate, it’ll kill you.” The black wolf gave a brisk shake, his thick fur standing on end as he splattered droplets of water up the wall forcing her to step back out of range of the shower he’d obliged her with. “Now, that’s sheer naughtiness. You’re going to have to clean that up yourself, I’m too busy with this wedding cake. Last layer. Then I can decorate it. That’s where the real fun starts.” A pitiful whine came from the huge beast in the corner. “No. You’ll have to wait. But this is a quick one, then I promise, we’ll go play in the snow.” His long pink tongue lolled out of his mouth, his nutmeg eyes darkened. “You might want to change.” Damn, but he wasn’t going to do that. He loved to romp in the snow in his wolf form. She quickly blended cocoa in boiling water, added the remaining ingredients and mixed them by hand, aware it made her breasts jiggle as she beat it to a thick, smooth batter. Sh...

I love writing and the more I write, the more I love it. The characters in my head are allowed so much more freedom these days and many of the scenarios I dwell on don't actually make it to my books but they contribute to what I have learnt is "back story" or "world building. In my latest paranormal short story - more about that another day - my heroine lives in a restricted environment, where she can only dream of her own passion of cooking, baking, creating. I won't spoil the storyline but I thought I would share my heroine's back story. She has no name yet, but I hope by the time I investigate her world I may be inspired to name her. Or hopefully one of my readers will. She stripped the canes bare, gently placing the black shiny fruit into her wicker basket. She'd heard it was a good idea to use an Afro comb, run it through the stems to pop the blackcurrants off, but she preferred to use her hands. The cool shade of her house greeted her as...