A Book and A Dish e-book

Did you know that you can help feed the animals for $.99? When you buy your copy of A Book and A Dish through Amazon or Barnes & Noble you're helping with the care for Tilly's Tale Rescue Shelter. All proceeds from the sale of A Book and ...A Dish will be used to help pay for food, care, housing and medical expenses for Tilly's Pack. Don't have a Kindle nor Nook? No problem. Amazon offers a free download for your PC allowing you to order A Book and A Dish for 99 cents and have it sent directly to your own computer. Now, what do you get for your $.99? Hopefully you'll find your next book to read as well as your next dish to cook. A Book (book reviews) and A Dish (the author's favorite recipe). Great buy for a dollar!

My Enemy My Love - James Walker, Author

Creamy Leek Croustade

(A James Walker favorite)

Part 1:

6 oz. (175g) fresh wholemeal breadcrumbs

2 oz. (50g) butter or margarine

4 oz. (100g) cheddar cheese, grated

4 oz. (100g) mixed nuts, chopped

1/2 tsp. (2.5 ml) mixed herbs

1 garlic clove, crushed

Part 2

3 med. sized leeks

4 tomatoes

2 oz (50g) butter or margarine

1 oz (25g) 100% wholemeal flour

1/2 pint (284 ml) milk

salt and pepper to taste

4 Tbsp (60 ml) fresh wholemeal breadcrumbs

Put the breadcrumbs in a basis, rub in the butter, then add the remaining ingredients from part 1.  Press the mixture into a 11 x 7", (28x18cm) tin.  Bake in the oven at 220c (425f, mark 7) for 15-20 minutes, until golden brown.  Meanwhile slice leeks and chop the tomnatoes.  Melt the butter in a saucepan.  Saute leeks for 5 minutes, then stir in flour.  Add milk, stirring constantly, then bring to a boil, reduce heat to simmer.  Add the remaining ingredients of part 2, except the breadcrumbs, and simmer for a few minutes to soften the tomatoes.  Check seasoning.  Spoon the vegetable mixture over the base, sprinkle with the breadcrumbs and heat through in the oven at 180c (350f, mark 4) for 20 minutes.  Serve at once.  Serves 4.

My Enemy My Love – Review by Martha A. Cheves, Author of Stir, Laugh, Repeat; A Book and A Dish; Think With Your Taste Buds 

“I am sorry to burden you with my troubles,” Beatrice said, catching her breath as she did so in an effort to keep calm. “Nonsense, my dear, what are friends for. You must stay the night with us. There is enough food, I’m sure.” Claire looked at Brigitte as she spoke. “You can help me prepare supper tonight, can’t you?” It was more of a demand than a request. “Of course, Mama.” She looked once more at Beatrice and couldn’t help thinking how badly this awful war was treating her. One of her son’s blinded for life, the other still serving at the front presumably, her daughter heavily pregnant with a bastard child and God knows where, and now her husband arrested for the kind of offence that could well result in his execution. It was little wonder that she was in tears when her once so secure world was rapidly crumbling around her. Not for the first time she decided that the evil Boches had much to answer for, given the misery they were visiting on so many innocent people whose lives they were trampling underfoot. Then she thought of her letter to Friedrich; it was enough to make her want to laugh. “This war is making fools of us all,” she mumbled to herself.

Aubert and Beatrice Guilloux, along with their two sons Antoine and Philippe and daughter Cosette live in the countryside of the French city of Lille. Aubert, with Philippe as his accountant, has a successful tannery business that has allowed him to provide everything needed to make his family happy in all of their desires. Their estate consists of their own home as well as cottages for some of the servants, a stable full of horses and through Aubert’s ability to manage money, rental property for yet another income. Things couldn’t be better…that is until WWI started and the Germans invaded France and took over Lille. Aubert and his family were required to move into one of the cottages giving the house up to the German officers.

 

 

Cosette had led a fairly sheltered life where her family supplied her every whim so moving into the cottage did become quite a change for her. Their horses had been taken over by the Germans so her love for riding and jumping had come to a stop. She, nor anyone else in the family, was allowed to go near their old home. All she had left to entertain her were walks to the lake. But these she found were quite dangerous as three German soldiers captured her with the intent of rape. Her rescuer turned out to be a German officer that caught her attention as well as her heart.

My Enemy My Love is another of those books that I almost didn’t read. I enjoy reading some history but have never enjoyed reading anything written about WWI or WWII. It’s always given me a ‘dark’ feeling about life during this time. But, as I’ve stated before, I will read at least the first 50 pages of any book before declining. My Enemy My Love turned out to be another of those books that I just kept going after the first 50 pages. Yes, it still gave me my ‘dark’ feeling but it also showed me the strength people find deep inside themselves when faced with the dangers of war and injustice. I find myself wondering if I could be so brave. Could I risk my own life to help my country? Would I hate ALL of those that brought this pain upon my world or would I look at them as just doing what they are told and must by their own leaders? Could I actually love one of them knowing that if found out I would be considered a traitor even by my own family? Through My Enemy My Love, Author James Walker has given me many mixed emotions and feelings making it difficult to answer any of these questions for myself. This is truly a great book that took not only a strong imagination but an awful lot of research. See, other than the main characters, most of the other characters are real and went through what he epics within this writing.

A message from the Author - The book was dedicated to my wife but perhaps I should have dedicated it to my grandfather who was still suffering from the physical and mental impact that the Great War had on him more than 50 years after it ended. I also have a German great-grandfather , which has influenced my perspective on the two world wars, and a love of French history which made the research a pleasure rather than a pain.  My other grandfather, who died before I was born was an 'old contemptible' at Mons in August 1914 and a cavalryman to boot, so I have watched the successful war film War Horse recently with some emotion knowing that he was caught up in the madness of sending horses against machine guns!

In Memory of Author Linda Broughton

In Loving Memory

In Memory of my sweet Linda

(by David Broughton)

My sweet love, now you're gone forever from this earth, but never from my heart and soul. It wasn't supposed to be this way, if I had my way, we'd have taken the final step of this mortal coil together, as we did most every other step through this earthly life.

Now I'm sad, not for you, for you are now free to be what I always knew you were, an angel of Love. I'm sad for me, and what I shall miss. Not just the big things, but simple things like folding sheets together, working as a team, like we often did in many things. I'll miss my companion, my best friend, and my lover.

I'm angry, not at you, but at the conductor that left me off that train to Gloryland with you. I would have been happy to ride in the caboose. We always traveled together, I wanted it to stay that way even on that final trip.

Feelings that cannot be named rack my body, as tears fill my eyes. Thoughts of "what if" cloud my mind. I feel guilty, what did I do or not do that could have prevented this separation? Was there anything I could have done? I know this not.

I'm lonely, for you were more than a lover, you were my companion, confidant and best friend, so I lost not one but four in one. I shall miss you always, though somehow I hope to find a way to put it in a pocket to keep for private moments, so that I can do whatever job I was left behind to complete, for when that's done, I shall be with you again, for we are, and will forever be soulmates. I loved you with all my heart, the best I knew how to love. You taught me how to love, and how to receive love in return. Love is infinite, never ending. Your capacity to Love was unfathomable. No amount of time or space can put true love asunder. Linda, I really do hope you know how much you were loved by me, and everyone you met. Farewell my sweet, until we meet again in the golden sky.

Side note of explanation to the readers: The "ride in the caboose" refers to a small gift she bought me one Christmas that had much sentiment attached. It was only a simple plastic caboose, but the reason she gave it still moves me. We were sitting at a railroad crossing early that summer, waiting for a train to pass. I happened to mention that I missed seeing the caboose on the train. She remembered that, and put a note with the toy caboose, "So your train will always have a caboose."

The Last Goodbye

Wednesday, April 13, 2011 will forever be acid etched into my memory as the hardest day I've ever had to face. This was the day I had to say that last goodbye to my beloved Linda, my wife, companion, best friend, and lover for nearly thirty years.

According to her wishes, I had to arrange for her cremation. Not only did she not want to be in the ground someplace, she didn't want to burden me with the outrageous expense of a fancy funeral, though she was worthy of a royal send-off. Of course, I couldn't just make the arrangements over the phone, and not take the opportunity to say goodbye, even though in my head I know that body is just an empty shell, I could not so much as imagine letting her go and not saying the things I had to say (they will remain private.)

After some delay by the coroner's office returning the body, I needed to be at the funeral home by six in the evening. Near the funeral parlor is a big grocery, where I stop to buy a single red rose. I gave her a single red rose when we first dated, and throughout our time together. This time of year, it's still bright and sunny at that time, allowing me to use my sunglasses to hide my bloodshot, baggy, tearful eyes from the rest of the world.

I watch carefully, looking for the funeral home, just when I think I must have missed it, I see it. I guide the truck into the lot, park and reluctantly step away from the safe haven my pickup truck provides. After two or three deep breaths to keep my composure, I walk to the front entrance. Ron, the man I'd been talking to on the phone, greets me gently.

There is always the infernal paperwork to get out of the way, so Ron gives me the choice of doing it first, or after I say farewell. Knowing that once I've said my farewell, I'll be in no shape to consider paperwork, I decide we should do that first, I'm also thinking it gives me a bit more time to ready my mind for what will be the hardest thing I'll ever do. Ron shows me to a conference room, I'm aware of the table and chairs, but not much else in the room as he gently guides me through the paperwork, signing where necessary.

While he files the paper work, Ron sets me up with an ice cold Coke, and a paper towel, then leaves me alone. At my request, he takes the wedding band from her hand at my request. I want to put it on a chain to wear around my neck. Ron gets me the ring, and gives me a just the right amount of time to face up to what I have to do. Sure I could just walk away now that the paperwork is done, but the man I am couldn't do it, no way.

I don't have a clue to how long I spent with my bride, how many tears were shed, or exactly what was said. I wouldn't make it public if I did. With Ron's help, I took a lock of her hair, for no particular reason that I can think of, but something inside wouldn't let me not do it. Now I'm in a more confused state of mind, I want to, to run away, but I also want to stay, to spend every more moment possible with the remains of my loving wife. I turned to leave, but instead grabbed another tissue, turned back kissed her head, and said my final goodbye. Ron shows me out, and at my question points out the restroom.

After some time in the rest room, splashing cold water on my face, I get it together enough to go out to my truck. I get in, but don't start it, I just sit there in a daze. I try to call my friend in Kansas, she has a way of calming me that nobody else can do. She doesn't answer, so I put the phone down, shake hands through the window with Ron, minding my manners as my Linda would have wanted. I drive a few blocks, before the cell phone rings, I can't answer it, I'm trying to drive, I'm in a daze and all thumbs, I drop the phone on the floor. I leave it there until I can pull over to talk to my friend. She takes the time to talk to me for a while, just hearing her voice is calming, though it doesn't take the pain away, it allows my mind to focus better.

I had to do some other things, like give most of my wife's clothes to a thrift store operation where the profits benefit orphaned or abused children. I know Linda would have wanted that, she insisted we shop there and help out as much as we could.

The drive home is pretty much a mystery to me, though I do remember stopping once to take a call from one of Linda's daughters, by her first marriage. All I can remember of the drive home was the tunnel vision and going so slow people behind me would honk when they couldn't pass. Thirty-four miles seemed like a thousand miles in a dark tunnel.

When I get home, I try to eat, but can't get down much, I try to talk to friends online or by phone, but can't get the one I really need to speak with, the only one that can calm me. Soon, I take off my outer clothes, collapse on the bed, my mind and body are exhausted from days of little or no sleep. Soon, I fall into a sleep more akin to passing out from the emotional overload. Four hours later, I wake and find myself writing this down. Why I must, I haven't a clue, self-therapy, I suppose. Oh, by the way, I did find it odd that we were married on the 13th, and I said my last farewell on the 13th.

Please, do me a favor if you can, reach out to help a child, in any way you can. Many times some attention alone will make a big difference. Read a story, help a children's charity, do but what you can feel good about, help me honor my Linda in that way.

The Last Goodbye, a poem to my Lost Love

Ninth of April, the very worst day

My angel has gone on her way,

To God I must stand and say,

Why take my love away?

Now it's a forever goodbye, no reprieve.

I must question exactly what I believe.

If I get to meet the Father someday,

I'm certain I'll have a lot to say.

I must say goodbye to an empty shell.

I feel like telling God to go to hell.

To take my love away is wrong.

I don't want to stay here long.

Life without love is not worth a damn

It hurts so much to be alone as I am.

My joy has been stolen in the night.

No way in the universe that's right.

Linda, my love, I hope I join you someday

Maybe then I can tell you all I didn't say.

Until that time, open your wings to fly

closer dear, for the Last Goodbye.

Books by Linda and Dave Broughton
In memory of Linda

Pane for the Holidays, Ash Pane novel number four

Silverhawk, Superthief

Royal Pane Down Under, Ash Pane novel number two

Dragon's Fire, a Tommy Boom Adventure

The Hits Just Keep On Coming

Gold n' Rain Trouble Starts, Pane Follows, Revised 2011 Edition

Pet Recyclers 2, Bank Shots

A Christmas story, Take Two

My little Christmas story

Double Pirate Trouble 

Librarian to the Rescue. Tilly, What Have You Done Now?

Arizona Wants Me

The Protectors. Forest of Enemies

Bounty Full Romance

A Shot In The ...

Grumpy Old Spy

Sammy Slam, Stuntman The Mysterious Movie Mogul

Mad Dog N' Mad Max, The Morretti Murder Mistake

THREE QUEENS and six bullets TAKES ALL

Queen Green Undercover The Java Jump N' Jive

Avenging Widow

Pet Recyclers, Chip Shots

Candy Dancer

The Legend of Big Hat Billy

Black Lightning

 Love Interrupted, True Love versus Deadly Secrets

 Bombs, Bullets and Blood

 Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry

In Memory of Sharon (Parrill) Hays

My friend Sharon who stepped up to a better world Febrary 6, 2012

The first part of last year I met a woman who wanted me to read and do a review for her children's book The Tumbleweed Family.





The Author, Sharon Hays liked my review well enough that she wanted me to review her book Mysteerie Manor, which I did and really enjoyed it.

So, when Mysteerie Manor II came out, you got it, I couldn't wait to continue my reading enjoyment so Sharon sent that one for reviewing too. 

And then came the ultimate.  An Opulent Tableau of Essence.  This beautiful book is made up of poetry, a lot of Sharon's own, as well as beautiful paintings created by artists from all over the world.  This compilation of art through words and the brush are indescribable.  It took a true artist to match the visual with the words of the poet.  And that's exactly what Sharon Hays was...a true artist. 

I've read many genres of books written by many authors.  I have yet to find an author with the artistic ability to write children books, stories about the paranormal and then turn around and create a book of this class. 

Most of the authors I read for are friends through internet only but once in a while I have the pleasure to meet them face to face.  Last year when my co-author Lillian Mort and I had our release party in New Port Richey, Sharon came up from Tampa.  She struck me immediately as being a person who enjoyed life to it's fullest.  Her laughter and smile came from the inside out and it showed, not just in her face and eyes, but through her actions and words.

Sharon and I kept in touch until a couple of months ago.  She emailed to say she was preparing for a raffle and wanted me to send her copies of my cookbooks.  I did but didn't hear back from her.  I emailed but got no answer.  Then yesterday I tried again and my email was returned.  I went to her facebook and left a message there.  You can't imagine my feelings when I received a message from someone who had read my message and had to tell me that Sharon had passed away. 

So Sharon, I know you're looking down as I tell the world what a talented person you were.  I can see you with your red hair, smile and Imogene Coca expressions entertaining the Angels with your laughter and talent.  I miss you my friend but will see you one day in the future.

Confessions of a Crazy Fox - Anna Maria Kolojaco Mullins, Author

Suzanne’s Pudding Pie

(Anna's daughter-in-law's recipe)

1 stick butter

1 cup sifted flour

1 cup chopped pecans

9½ oz Cool Whip

8 oz cream cheese

1 sm. box instant vanilla pudding

1 sm. box instant chocolate pudding

2 ¾ cups cold milk

1 Hershey bar

Combine butter, flour, and nuts. Press into the bottom of an ungreased 13X9 inch glass baking dish. Bake in oven for 20 minutes at 350°. Blend one cup Cool Whip with creamed cheese and spread over cooked crust. Combine both puddings with the milk (23/4 cups) following the directions on the package. Put this over the cream cheese mixture. Follow with the rest of the Cool Whip. Top with grated Hershey bar.

(My daughter-in-law, Suzanne Mullins, first brought this treat to a family gathering many years ago and the family has requested it for every gathering since and gave it that name. I’m not sure if it was originally a Cool Whip recipe or not but I often substitute whipped cream and make it outrageously decadent.)

Confessions of a Crazy Fox – Review by Martha A. Cheves, Author of Stir, Laugh, Repeat; A Book and A Dish and Think With Your Taste Buds

‘I stewed about it until New Year’s Day, 2010, and then I wrote Jimmy a long letter pointing out a lot of the things he and Jeannette had done to hurt me the last decade and if he didn’t put a stop to it, I was going to go ahead and release my story.  I had decided not to take the last offer I had, after Jim was diagnosed with cancer, but my sister inspired me to try again.  I knew I wouldn’t hear from my brother and posted on Facebook that New Year’s Day that my resolution was to publish my family memoir.  It did shock a few family members who couldn’t imagine what I had to write about or why.  I figured if Jeannette’s story was the one our extended family had been hearing all these years, perhaps it was finally time to broadcast mine.  That shouldn’t really surprise any of them.  They all know I write when I’m pissed and believe me, Jeannette pushed me way past that point this last time.’

I never research nor read other reviews before starting a new book and when I was sent a copy of Anna Mullis’ book Confessions of a Crazy Fox, I actually expected it to be a mystery, murder, suspense.  What I never expected it to be was the story of her life.  My first thoughts were borrrring!   And since I will decline a book before I’ll write a bad review, I almost turned this book down.  But I always give a book, any book, a chance and at least try to read the first 25-50 pages hoping it will appeal to me and that’s exactly what I did with Confessions of a Crazy Fox.

I read the first couple of chapters as Anna talked about her childhood, she sure had a streak of defiance!  I continued reading as she introduced her ‘guardian angel’ that saved her from being bitten by a snake.  When I read about her cousin Bobo I actually started feeling that I knew him.  Her parents turned out to be the kind we all wish for.  Their love for their family, friends and neighbors was something many only dream about.  Then tragedy hits, first with the death of her Dad and later her Mother and with each also comes the separation of family.  I’ve always said that the 2 things that bring out the worse in a family are weddings and funerals.  I’ve decided to add another to that list - money. 

Reading about the greed between the siblings actually reminded me of a few incidents within my own life after the death of my own parents.  I’m sure we can all relate to this greed at some level, either through our own experiences or through the pains we’ve watched others experience.  I personally feel that greed is the #1 cause of family problems throughout the world.  And greed isn’t just about money.  While reading Confessions of A Crazy Fox I finally realized that greed is nothing but jealousy.  Someone gets just a bit more, got a bit more or will get a bit more, bringing on a jealousy called greed.

I’m sure that by now you have realized I read the whole book.  Actually I had trouble putting it down.  It firmly points out that if you make someone mad enough your sorrow might just come back to haunt you by way of a book telling the whole world just how greedy you really are.  In Confessions of a Crazy Fox, Anna Mullins doesn’t just blow the top on her siblings she also includes her own sins throughout her life, and her honesty in admitting her own faults is one of the things that made this book so interesting.

Bitten - Dan O'Brien, Author

 

Rich and Squidgy Chocolate Cake

(A O'Brien Special)

 

Ingredients:

2 cups flour

1 cup softened butter (or margarine)

1 cup milk

2 eggs

2 cups cocoa

1 1/2 cups sugar

 

Directions:

1. Pre-heat the oven to 320°.

2. Cream the butter with 1/2 cup of the sugar.

3. Add the eggs a little at a time. If the mixture begins to curdle, simply mix a little flour into it.

4. Once all the egg has been folded into the mixture, add the flour about 1/2 cup at a time until the batter is smooth.

5. Place the cocoa and the remaining sugar into a separate bowl and pour 1/4 cup of boiling water into it. Stir until fully combined.

6. Add the cocoa paste to the cake batter and fold gently until combined.

7. Add a little of the milk and stir gently. Repeat until there is no milk left.

8. Pour batter into a greased cake pan, and bake for 1 hour or until a knife no longer comes out wet. (The mixture may still stick to the knife when it is done - but it should a have a fudgy appearance.)

Serve with cream.

 

 

Bitten – Review by Martha A. Cheves, Author of Stir, Laugh, Repeat and A Book and A Dish

 

“Agent Lauren Westlake.  Yes, I know about you Agent Westlake.  What are you an agent of I wonder?” posited the woman quizzically.  “Right.  So yeah, anyways.  About the creature?”  The woman folded her hands across her lap and sat back.  “There are many creatures in this world, Lauren of the Lake Tribes of the West.  My question is what are you an agent of?  We all represent something in this world.  What do you represent?”  Lauren looked at the woman strangely, feeling claustrophobic.  “I am an agent of the federal government,” she replied mechanically.  The woman was not convinced with the answer.  “That is to say you are an agent of a rock, Lauren of the Lake Tribes of the West.  Would you like me to read your life?”  “My life?  Lake Tribes of the West?  I thought you had information about the creature.”  “I have information on a great many things, Agent Westlake.  What information do you have for me?  Nothing in this life is free.  A cycle of reciprocity, surrounded and envelopes us, even if we do not see it.”  Lauren gripped the edge of the chair, lifting her body.  “I think there has been a misunderstanding.  I thought you had something to tell me…”  The woman waved the agent down with a quick movement of her hands.  “Let me begin then.  I am called Hecate.  I serve as the guide from this world.  Not the only guide mind you, but a guide nonetheless.  I am an agent of wisdom and of truth.  And you, daughter of the Lake Tribes of the West, what are you an agent of?”

 

Federal Agent Lauren Westlake had been in Locke, Minnesota for just a few days and she is now conversing with a another crazy woman.  The first was Madeline Leftwich who for years sat every night at the train station waiting on her mother to pick her up.  Now Madeline is dead and the particulars of her death are what keeps Lauren in her seat as she listens to the puzzling comments coming from Hecate.  Madeline, as well as another woman found at the lake, had both been murdered by what appears to be the same ‘person.’  Both were mutilated with patches of skin removed.  After catching a glimpse of what Lauren believes to be the murderer, she is convinced it isn’t a person she’s perusing but a monster of some type.  From what she saw, it’s large and it’s hairy.  Definitely not human.

 

Dominic McManus has had his own encounter with Hecate.  She has given him hope for the future.  She has ‘read his life’ and assured him that there will be someone coming that will help him.  But Dominic sees his time running out and needs help fast.  Could Lauren possibly be the one he’s been waiting on? 

 

While reading Bitten, I felt as if I was reading a possible script for one of the supernatural shows on television involving vampires and werewolves.  I also felt that it might even be a script for Criminal Minds.  This book would fit both.  The questions I kept asking myself as I read were – is this monster a werewolf?  - is Dominic the monster?  - could it really be just a crazy maniac?  And then I would tell myself – if this book were made into a movie I would spend more time hiding my face from the screen as a got the heck scared out of me.  Bitten is a true thriller!

The Crystal Rose - D. L. Mains, Author

 

Yam and Apple Casserole

(One of D. L. Mains' Favorite Recipes)

2 - Medium Granny Smith apples (I’ve used Delicious or Macintosh)

2 - 16 oz cans yams (1 large can Princilla)

8 tbsp unsalted butter – melted (I’ve used reg. salted)

½ cup dark corn syrup (or honey)

1/3 cup plus 2 tbsp light brown sugar

½ to 1 tsp cinnamon (I use the whole tsp)

1/8 tsp salt

Drain yams – combine with 6 tbsp melted butter, corn syrup, brown sugar, cinnamon and salt in bowl and puree until smooth.  Spread half of mixture in greased 10” casserole dish.  Arrange half of apples (sliced) overlapping evenly.  Repeat layers.  Brush top of apples with remaining butter.

Bake until apples are tender and mixture is heated through.  (30 minutes at 350 degrees)

The Crystal Rose – Review by Martha A. Cheves, Author of Stir, Laugh, Repeat and A Book and A Dish

‘Keith hung up the phone, glaring at the receiver.  He turned his head to stare at the wall of the one room apartment where many pictures of his soon-to-be bride looked back.  He could see her beautiful face from everywhere in the apartment, except the bathroom, but he had a separate picture in there.  “Where are you, Dan?” he asked those faces.  “Why don’t you answer my messages?”  He reached across the bed and grabbed the box from under his pillow.  His chest swelled as he opened the velvet box.  The huge cubic zirconia twinkled at him.  He could see Sheridan showing off the ring to her friends.  How could he make her see they were made for each other, if he couldn’t even get in touch with her?  All his difficulties had to be Joel’s fault.’

Sheridan McLaughlin is a marine biologist that has found herself out of work.  With the economy, the market for research in her field of expertise is on hold and there appears to be nothing opening up within the near future.  On top of that her apartments have just gone condo so unless she decides to buy her unit, which is out of the question since she has no job, she must move.  Her only option is to go back ‘home’ to her godfather/uncle Joel and hope she can keep herself afloat by singing and tending bar at his dinner club The Crystal Rose.  Could things get worse?  If you call trying to change a flat tire with a spare that’s also flat in a rain downpour, then I guess it can get worse.

Russell Madison is a self made millionaire.  Everything he touches turns to money making him one of the most sought out bachelor around.  He also has the looks to go with his money which makes every woman he even glances at swoon for his attention.  That is every woman with the exception of Sheridan McLaughlin.  This wouldn’t be a problem if Sheridan didn’t end up owning the majority of The Crystal Rose, which Russell wants for himself.  So if it requires him engulfing Sheridan with his charm, he can handle that.  So he thinks.

What Sheridan nor Russell could have foreseen was Keith Cainam stepping into their lives to make sure there would never be a relationship between the two of them… business nor personal.  Keith had dated Sheridan years before when she worked for Joel at The Crystal Rose.  He played in a band that served as the entertainment now and then and his love for her had only grown over the years of their separation.  His determination to prove to her how much she means to him and how much he really means to her is his top priority.

So… will Sheridan keep the stone wall she is noted for up preventing both Russell and Keith out?  Will Russell keep his wall in tact while it protects him from feeling the pains that was inflicted on him by his mother years ago?  And will Keith make Sheridan take a really hard look at him and see his sincerity before she leaves him again? 

The Crystal Rose is a beautiful love story of both past and present.  The characters are well written and believable.  It’s filled with love and just enough suspense to make it a very enjoyable read.