National Ice Cream Day? Really? In the middle of December? This should be Wool Sock Day, or Hot Cocoa Day, or Cold Nose Day (she says whilst secretly celebrating all of those). Needless to say I won’t be taking part in any celebrations honouring the freezing of cream.
Now, if this were July 13th I’d be all over this holiday. While I love ice cream of pretty much any flavour, I do have my favourites – maple walnut, coffee, and anything containing chocolate. When I was a kid we had a cottage in Malagash and on the looooong drive there (two hours but I was a kid so it was forever) we’d pass an ice cream stand. Everyone, including the dog, got a scoop of ice cream though my parents usually got milkshakes. A special treat for me would be a scoop of liquorice ice cream. I love love love black liquorice (the red stuff is an abomination) and finding it in ice cream form was like a gift from the god of liquorice. If there isn’t a god of liquorice there needs to be one. My recollection was that the liquorice ice cream was a dark khaki in colour. Not the most appealing to look at, but man, it was yummy. The few times a year they were out of liquorice I’d get orange pineapple. Since I’ve started making my own ice cream I’ve stuck to the basics like vanilla or chocolate. When I make coffee ice cream I add a shot of coffee liqueur to the mixture. It makes for a delicious soft ice cream. The alcohol prevents the cream from freezing completely so the ice cream is easier to scoop, and thus easier to eat. What is your favourite ice cream flavour? Here’s another excerpt from the fast approaching launch (THIS FRIDAY!!) of my next book, Love and Turmoil. “My understanding of the custom is that engagements are sealed with a kiss.” “You surely aren’t suggesting—” Oh, gracious. “I am.” He put his other hand on her shoulder and slowly, slowly skimmed along to her neck, brushing escaped wisps of hair out of the way. “I couldn’t possibly.” She tingled. Everywhere. She licked her lips. “You can.” He pulled her closer still until there was no space between them. Her breasts touched his chest, her knees touched his knees, and her tummy touched his—heavens. He did want to kiss her. “Mr. Payn—” “Sam.” “Sam, I’m not—” His lips touched hers, briefly. Too briefly. With a sigh she returned the kiss. She felt his smile, her stomach did a little flip, and her lips curved in an answering smile. She’d never smiled whilst in the middle of a kiss before. He trailed his lips along her jaw and nipped lightly at her earlobe. “Oh yes, I’ll enjoy this engagement.” Here’s the gist of the story: Six months after burying her wastrel husband, Lady Arabella Woodbridge has resigned herself to a lonely life in the countryside with only her two adopted nieces for company. Being a young, respectable widow is – frustrating. Then the charming and wickedly handsome Samuel Payn takes up residence in the neighboring manor house. Retired explorer and occasional pirate Samuel Payn is on a two-fold mission – retrieve buried loot, and locate the father who abandoned his mother to a life of poverty. But a gang of murderous villains is also after the buried treasure. And someone is threatening to tear apart the lovely widow’s family. Will Sam’s single-minded determination to uncover his true identity threaten Arabella’s happiness - and his life? Cheers!
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