But...before we get going I just want to say thanks to Cody Gary of Avon Romance for starting this round robin blog hop.
1) When writing are you a snacker? If so, sweet or salty?
Not when I'm writing. Usually I get way too focused and I tend to forget about the world while trying. Now...AFTER or BEFORE I write? Yeah, I like to munch. Salty for me though. I've never been much of a sweet eater but open a bag of tater chips and I'm done for :)
2) Are you an outliner or someone who writes by the seat of their pants? And are they real pants or jammies? I'm a total panster. Upon occasion if I get stuck I have to sit and think about what might come next but other than that I just let the characters go and write what they tell me to.
3) When cooking, do you follow a recipe or do you wing it? I guess it depends on what I'm cooking. The stuff I cook on a regular basis I just get to it. but sometimes I want to try something new and I go (mostly) by the recipe.
4) What is next for you after this book? I have about a dozen more Redneck books slotted :) I hope :) You, Me and Sweet Tea is what I am currently working on and it is the second in the Redneck Fabulous series of Hick Lit stories :)
5) Last question... on a level of one being slightly naughty and ten being whoo-hoo steamy, how would you rate your book? Fried Pickles has no naughty at all. While I can't say that about some of my other published works I am happy to say that my mom, grandmother and great aunts can all read my Redneck books without fear of any pink parts poking in...pun intended :)
Now for my favorite summer recipe.... Fried Yellow Squash. YUMM! I usually start by washing and then slicing my squash pretty thin. I keep them in a pan of water so they don't dry out. I mix up a little flour and some cornmeal and the add a bit of salt and pepper. I pull a few squash rounds out of the water and coat them in the meal and then drop them right into my fryer :) Typically I cook them until they are a dark golden brown so they stay nice and crunchy but even if they aren't...still some real good munchin'.
I have not yet heard back from the authors I invited but will post their links as soon as I do :)
Now for a bit about my story...Fried Pickles and the Fuzz
Heather loves her little café, and her best customer is the county Sherriff. She’s been waiting months for him to ask her out…maybe she won’t have to wait much longer.
Bronson feels at home in Big Creek even though he hasn’t been the Sherriff for long. Small towns have their perks and a pretty café owner who cooks like an angel certainly doesn’t hurt. Now, if he could only get over his nerves and drum up the gumption to ask her out.
Throw in a gossip mill, a redneck festival and an ill timed attempt to help and you end up with some laughs, some ruffled feathers and a town that is….Redneck Fabulous.
Excerpt: “You know me too well.” He glanced up from his chili and found her staring at
him. His heart rate spiked. There was something very intimate about her knowing
his habits and preferences. Like she was taking a special interest in him. Truth
be told, she probably knew how every single patron she served liked their drinks
and what sides they preferred, but it still made him feel special.
“Good men aren’t hard to figure out.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “But like a five-pound bass,
they’re hard to land.”
Oh, man. Bronson swallowed hard. This was it. The perfect opportunity to ask her out to dinner. Or the picnic. Or anything. Say something, genius. “Um, Heather?”
She tilted her head slightly to the left and edged closer to the counter. “Yes, Sheriff?”
Man, she smelled good. Some kind of delicious cross between fresh flowers and apple pie. His heart pounded in his chest. He hadn’t been so nervous since his senior year in high school when he had asked Jenny Perkins to the prom. “I was wondering if…”
Heather placed her elbows on the counter and leaned a bit closer. The creamy skin of her
neck seemed to beg him to discover if it was as soft as it looked. “Yes, Bronson?”
He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Wondering if maybe sometime… if maybe you’d like to…” The radio attached to his belt crackled.
“Dispatch to Sheriff.”