Dear Reader

Dear Reader Column 12-17-19

Dear Reader,

When not writing feisty, intelligent heroines and snarky heroes, today's guest author, Kate Bateman works as a fine art appraiser and on-screen antiques expert for several popular TV shows in the UK. She currently lives in Illinois with a number-loving husband and three inexhaustible children, and regularly returns to her native England 'for research.' Her newest release is the Regency caper This Earl Of Mine, (Bow Street Bachelors #1).

Kate (also writing as K. C. Bateman), is the #1 bestselling author of Regency and Renaissance historical romance, including the Secrets & Spies series. Her Renaissance romp, The Devil To Pay, was a 2019 RITA^® Finalist.

Today's guest author is giving away a print or e-book copy (winner's choice) of her latest release, This Earl Of Mine. Say hello to Kate and enter, email: [email protected]

Please welcome author Kate Bateman...

You can't write history without the word story.

Before I started writing historical romance, I spent fifteen years as a fine art appraiser and auctioneer, with my very own auction house. I still have a not-so-secret double life as a TV antiques expert on several British antiques shows.

On the surface, my two chosen professions don't appear to have much in common, but at the heart of each lies the idea of STORY. Stories have value. They're powerful things.

In the antiques world we call it 'provenance.' That vital background information that often adds considerable value to a piece. Consider the diamond and sapphire ring presented for sale at a French auction house recently. In terms of raw materials--actual gold and stone value--it was worth around $2,000. But the owners had evidence it was the engagement ring the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte gave to Josephine Beauharnais. It sold for an astonishing $949,000!

The story behind that piece did something magical. It elevated an ordinary ring to something truly extraordinary.

If history has taught me anything, it's that stories are universal. The human desire for them hasn't changed. We crave stories. It's how we make sense of the world, how we learn and grow.

I recently read a translation of the graffiti found scratched into the walls of the Roman town of Pompeii, which was entombed in the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 CE. And guess what? Almost every trope and genre that we see in modern novels, films, and TV was represented. There were stories ranging from the sweet; "Marcus loves Spendusa", to the flirty; "Hector, baby, Mercator says 'hello'". There's the classic Enemies to Lovers trope; "Serena hates Isidorus." and unrequited love; "Marcellus loves Praenestina, but she doesn't care for him." There's separated lovers; "Vibius Restitutus slept here alone and missed his darling Urbana." And heartbreaking loss; "Pyrrhus to his colleague Chius: I grieve because I hear you have died; and so farewell." There's even the bitter ex-girlfriend; "Atimetus got me pregnant."

Finally, (and definitely my favorite), there's the ancient version of an awkward Tinder date; "The man I am having dinner with is a barbarian." (Does she mean literally?!)

Each of these brief glimpses into the past tells a story, with goals, motivations, and conflicts, just as in any modern tale. There are no new stories. But there are infinite ways to retell them, and that's the author's job. To bring a new perspective. To enlighten, delight, and entertain. I hope my novels do just that.

Happy reading!
Love, Kate

Email Kate at: [email protected] and enter the giveaway for a copy of Kate's new romp, This Earl Of Mine. (Print or e-book copy, winner's choice).

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

THE REVERSIBLE MASK: An Elizabethan Spy Novel (Fiction) by Loretta Goldberg

This award-winning debut novel tells the exploits of a dashing Elizabethan double-agent. Come wander his exhilarating world! Love of his Protestant country and a troubled Catholic conscience battle for his heart as he unravels plots against Queen and country while urging moderation on Catholic kings. Meet larger-than-life characters of the day: his lovers, patrons, marks. See an awesome comet from a Sultan's observatory; dust yourself off from the first self-detonating bomb ship in Antwerp.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on THE REVERSIBLE MASK to read more and to email author Loretta Goldberg, you'll get a reply.

Dear Reader Column 12-16-19

Dear Reader,

It's a lot of work but it's a labor of love--and a lot of fun too! When someone in my family has a birthday I make sure there's a party, not just for the kids, adults love parties, too. Painted faces, everyone wearing a mustache, dinosaurs, cats, grass skirts, Legos, sailing, a circus set up in our yard, every birthday party has a different theme. The most recent was a "Down on the Farm" birthday party for my grandson Paul, who just turned 13 years old.

Be sure to click on the link to see photos. There's a life-size cut-out cow, walking balloon ducks, pigs, horses, geese, chickens and sheep. Everyone wore a cowboy hat with a bandana tied around their neck, there was a pull-string chicken pinata filled with candy, and a BBQ. And at Paul's request, we each made our own butter using heavy cream, a small mason jar and a marble. Yes, Paul was right, it works! After continuously shaking the mason jar for five minutes, then adding a pinch of salt, the butter tasted divine.

For the past 13 years I've put together eight different themed, birthday parties. I'm starting to worry that I might run out of ideas (if you have any good party ideas please send them to me). And in the meantime, take a look at Paul's "Down on the Farm" party.

To see photos, click here.

* Congratulations to Susan J. the winner of the Christmas PJs.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Happy Holidays,

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

CLOSER (Fiction) by Kylie Scott

It's been six years since the release of Lick and the Stage Dive family were first introduced. Along the way, they've made me laugh, swoon, and even occasionally cry, all while living their best rock n roll life. These novellas with 1,001 Dark Nights give me the perfect opportunity to visit with the crew while enlarging on the Stage Dive world. I hope you enjoy meeting Mae and her bodyguard as much I enjoyed writing them.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on CLOSER to read more and to email author Kylie Scott, you'll get a reply.

Dear Reader Column 12-13-19

Dear Reader,

The holidays are heartwarming, but they can be heartbreaking, too. Every day when someone is decorating a Christmas tree there is someone who is struggling to find joy, because something is missing. It's the first Christmas without Grandma or Grandpa, a son, a daughter, their husband or wife. "What do you want for Christmas?" It's the question of the season, and the answers are probably things that can't be wrapped and tied with a bow.

The presents I'd like to see underneath the tree are conversations I wish I'd been able to have with my mother and father. The things I'd want to talk about don't remind me of happy times, instead they bring back memories and questions, "How could you do that to me? Why?" Wishing things had been different, it's my Christmas wish every year, but when I open that Christmas present there's nothing inside.

It's been a long time coming, but this year when I open my Christmas present I'm going to make sure it isn't empty inside. Because I've decided to fill it with the gift of forgiveness, which means from now on my holiday will finally be filled with peace and joy.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

May you find peace and joy this season,

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

Dear Reader Column 12-12-19

Dear Reader,

This year we've been celebrating 20 years at the book club, and today I'm taking another look back. If you need pajamas, be sure to read today's column...

When I was a kid, my friends thought getting pajamas for Christmas was boring, but not me. New pj's were the highlight of my Christmas bounty. It was the first package I'd look for under the tree. Actually, it was pretty easy to find...it was "shake-less." The quietest package under the tree, but the one that always delighted me the most. I could always count on Grandma Hale for pj's. They were never boring, but always a little too big in case they shrunk, or I grew.

When a friend asked me, "Suzanne, what's the best Christmas present you ever received?" No doubt in my mind--no runner up--it was my red and white jammies with the matching cap to keep me warm.

If you're worried Santa won't be bringing you new pajamas this year, be sure to enter my Pajama Giveaway. I'll pick out a nice pair of Christmas pj's for one lucky winner. Be sure to include if you want men's or women's and your size: S, M, L or XL in the entry box with your shipping address.

Take a trip with me down memory lane. To see me in my favorite pj's, and to enter the Pajama Giveaway, click here.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

With so many new books out every week, we promise these titles deserve your attention:

(Thriller) VANISHING GIRLS by Lisa Regan

(Fiction) THE OPEN DOOR by Laurelin Paige

(Fiction) SHARK'S EDGE by Angel Payne & Victoria Blue

(Fiction) AGAINST THE WIND by Jim Tilley

Go to: http://authorbuzz.com/dearreader

Dear Reader Column 12-11-19

Dear Reader,

It's an online cookbook filled with recipes sent in by book club readers, and all you have to do is click on the link below to easily peruse through it. Even if you're not looking for a new dish for Christmas dinner, who could pass up taking a peek at the ingredients for Pig Candy, Sweet Snow, Christmas Grits, Coke Salad, and the recipe that made me cringe and laugh out loud--Elf Puke Dip!

Yes, no doubt about it, Elf Puke Dip would definitely be a conversation piece at any holiday get together. There are 56 reader recipes and you'll find them all here.

If you have a recipe you'd like to add to the Reader Recipe Collection, send it to: [email protected]

* Congratulations to Patricia B., the winner of Art of the Pie by Kate McDermott.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Happy Holidays,

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

SHARK'S EDGE (Fiction) by Angel Payne & Victoria Blue

Success carries a price, as everyone in this sweeping, suspenseful saga must learn. Boundaries are tested, souls are opened, passions are unlocked...enemies are confronted. Every story brings a journey of scandals, a ride of revelations, and a push to the very limits of what hearts can endure--until every character learns fate's biggest lesson of all. The edge is just the beginning.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on SHARK'S EDGE to read more and to email author Angel Payne & Victoria Blue, you'll get a reply.

Dear Reader Column 12-10-19

Dear Reader,

Watch for Ann Napolitano's upcoming January novel, Dear Edward. Today's guest author, has also written A Good Hard Look and Within Arm's Reach. She is the Associate Editor of One Story literary magazine.

Ann received an MFA from New York University; she has taught fiction writing for Brooklyn College's MFA program, New York University's School of Continuing and Professional Studies and for Gotham Writers' Workshop. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and two children.

Authors love to hear from readers. Ask a question, or simply say hello and welcome Ann Napolitano to the book club.

Email: [email protected]

I'm fascinated by first memories. How old were you, and what happened? That first memory is, after all, the start date of your consciousness, and the first story you remember in your life. This event or moment was intense enough to imprint itself into your mind, when no earlier memory found traction.

My first memory is my third birthday party. My birthday is close to Halloween, so when I was very young my birthdays tended to have a costume theme. My third birthday party was at our house, a blue colonial in suburban New Jersey. My little friends were dressed up as witches and ghosts and we had just finished playing games in the back yard. We were seated at card tables covered with cheap tablecloths and had just been served cake when the doorbell rang. The doorbell is loud in my memory. Ding-dong. One of my parents must have said, "Oh, I wonder who this is?" so that fifteen preschoolers would look up from their plates to see. When the door swung open, an eight-foot-tall Big Bird walked into the house. You remember Big Bird from Sesame Street? Super tall, yellow feathers, and orange legs? That's who stepped into the room.

What I remember next is a pause, a collective intake of breath. Big Bird may have even said something, like, Happy Birthday. But all I remember is first the silence--the bad kind of silence that happens just after a baby falls and bumps his head--and then fifteen preschoolers started to scream. Some ran out of the room. Others hid under the table. Big Bird had appeared with no advance warning, he'd just walked in off the street as if that was an okay thing for a television character to do. It didn't help when my parents explained that it was supposed to be a fun surprise. It didn't help when Big Bird took off his head and revealed himself to be the teenage boy who lived across the street. Nothing helped. My guests were literally inconsolable, and the party ruined. Parents had to be called to come early and take their devastated children home.

That memory starts the movie of my childhood, and is appropriately saturated in a kind of 1970s color palette. I wonder what my children's first memories will be, and which of my mistakes will possibly feature in them. I wonder during which moment their consciousness locked in, and which moment will start the story they'll tell for the rest of their lives. What is your first memory?

How did your story start?

--Ann Napolitano
Email: [email protected]

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

THE OPEN DOOR (Fiction) by Laurelin Paige

This year, I had the opportunity to return to one of my favorite couples, JC and Gwen from the Found Duet. They are some of my most passionate characters, people who love each other deeply and have the most amazing chemistry. I wondered what came next--after kids, when life got the better of them. The book is a sexy, edgy, very romantic story about two people, anchored to each other in every way, who want to explore the boundaries of that love in a safe, consensual setting.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on THE OPEN DOOR to read more and to email author Laurelin Paige, you'll get a reply.

Dear Reader Column 12-09-19

Dear Reader,

Peppermint sticks and grasshoppers make the perfect holiday pies.

When I was growing up every December my mother would make two pies to take to Grandma and Grandpa's house. Red and green desserts--perfect for Christmas dinner. Peppermint Stick Pie and Grasshopper Pie.

Two recipes that have never failed me.

PEPPERMINT STICK PIE

1 chocolate cookie crust
24 large marshmallows
1/2 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
6 drops peppermint extract
6 drops red food color
1 cup whipping cream
2 T crushed peppermint candy

(This time of year you can easily buy a chocolate cookie crust in the grocery store to save time and it's just as good. Or you can make your own.)

Heat marshmallows and milk over low heat, stirring constantly, just until marshmallows are melted. Remove from heat; stir in vanilla, salt, peppermint extract and food color. Refrigerate, stirring occasionally, until mixture mounds slightly when dropped from a spoon.

Beat whipping cream in chilled bowl until stiff. Stir marshmallow mixture until blended, fold into whipped cream. Pour into chocolate crust. Refrigerate at least 12 hours. Just before serving, sprinkle with crushed peppermint candy.

CHOCOLATE COOKIE CRUST
(if you want to make your own)

Heat oven 350 degrees. Mix 1 1/2 cups chocolate wafer crumbs and 1/4 cup melted butter. Press firmly against bottom and side of ungreased 9-inch pie plate. Bake 10 minutes. Cool.

GRASSHOPPER PIE

1 chocolate cookie crust
32 large marshmallows
1/2 cup milk
1/4 cup creme de menthe
3 T white creme de cacao
1 1/2 cups whipping cream
Few drops green food color
Grated semisweet baking chocolate, optional

Heat marshmallows and milk over medium heat, stirring constantly, just until marshmallows are melted. Refrigerate until thickened; stir in liqueurs.

Beat whipping cream in chilled bowl until stiff. Fold marshmallow mixture into whipped cream; fold in food color. Pour into crust. Sprinkle with grated semisweet chocolate. Refrigerate until set, at least 3 hours.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

** Be sure to enter today's giveaway of my gently used copy of Art of the Pie by Kate McDermott. To enter, click here.

Happy Holidays,

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

AUTHORBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.

VANISHING GIRLS (Thriller) by Lisa Regan

In a small Pennsylvania city, one girl goes missing just as another is found alive. With more questions than answers, Detective Josie Quinn follows the dark trail of a series of disappearances in her community. Every turn in her investigation uncovers a disturbing new revelation and brings her closer to unearthing her town's most shocking secret. Two things are certain: a killer is on the loose and Josie can trust no one.

Go to: AUTHORBUZZ click on VANISHING GIRLS to read more and to email author Lisa Regan, you'll get a reply.

Dear Reader Column 12-06-19

Dear Reader,

It's a great idea and "Let the games begin" the next time my grandchildren come to visit. Congratulations to Barbara Ribner, one of this year's Honorable Mentions in this year's Write a DearReader contest...

I thoroughly enjoy being around children. I don't mind the messes. Even the craziness is (usually) kind of energizing--until it spills over that invisible border into chaos rather than boisterous fun. I enjoy teaching kids, watching them learn, being with and playing with them. I love the things that they say and do that are so unexpected when seen through adult eyes.

When my kids were little, we played impromptu games quite often. For instance, one day when things had been getting tense due to inclement weather and a lack of free play, I was struck with the inspiration for the game "restaurant". I told my boys to get the room(s) picked up and as soon as they did, we'd play a new game. And cleanup occurred!

So, the game began. I told them I was transforming the dining room into a restaurant, and so they needed to wash their hands and enter the restaurant as they would if it were a real restaurant. And they did.

They damply appeared at the doorway (which had magically become a hostess station) where I stood with a pizza pan in my hands upon which rested a notepad. I looked at them and said, "Are you here for luncheon or to order a take out?" My youngest said, "Luncheon?" and I informed him in a lowered voice that "luncheon" was simply a fancy word for lunch. They decided to eat in the restaurant. I seated them at one end of the dining room table, saying, "I think you'll enjoy the light from the outdoors at this table". I then whisked myself out to the kitchen, put three glasses of ice water (half full!) on my pizza-pan tray, and zipped back in to distribute ice water. I zoomed out of the room and returned with my pizza pan and a notepad to consult as I gave them the "specials of the day". As I remember, those were tomato soup, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, fruit and hummus, or yogurt with crackers. They gave me their "orders" and I assured them that I'd submit their orders immediately.

I zoomed out to the kitchen again, after turning on a musical Sesame Street tape for ambience in the dining room. I could hear the boys chatting quietly as I rummaged through the fridge pulling out carrots and celery and tossing them onto a plate. I entered the room with my orange and green veggies carefully balanced on my "tray" and offered them crudites for an appetizer while awaiting their main meal. (Crudites--another new word that we worked into a lowered voice conversation. Yes! I'd scored another one of those "teachable moments"--and the tenor of the room/their moods was visibly changing.)

While they munched on the veggies, I prepared their "orders". I also wrapped their silverware in paper napkins and delivered those to the dining room. By then the soup was hot and their orders were ready.

I took them in--on my tray--to the dining room, served, and they began to eat. Ahh. Now there was time for a deep breath for me!

When I asked if they were finished with their meal, they indicated that they were, and the oldest asked if I had a dessert menu. Oops! I hadn't thought of that...but there was ice cream in the freezer. So, I told them that yes, I had a "house special" for dessert. I brought them each a scoop of ice cream--but put it into a teacup--(a single scoop of ice cream looks like a lot more in a teacup!) and brought "toppings" with me. Chocolate chips, peanuts, and Hershey's and waffle syrups. They topped the ice cream with their choice of ingredients...and lunch was over.

I loved making up games. It saved my sanity, many a time--and I hope it gave the kids some great memories!

Barbara Ribner
Honorable Mention, 2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

Dear Reader Column 12-05-19

Dear Reader,

Jodie Hawkins is one of this year's Honorable Mention writers in my annual Write a DearReader Contest. You'll enjoy reading and "listening" to her story.

Congratulations Jodie!

What? WHAT?

At 72, I suspect I should expect a bit of normal hearing loss. Decades of leaf blowers, trash trucks, construction, kids yelling.

New Years Eve, 2018. We weren't watching Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve, or the current equivalent, we weren't watching a hammered, allegedly hammered, lip syncing, allegedly lip syncing, pop diva. We were watching, and listening at questionable decibels, a 2 hour Metallica concert on AXS TV.

It is totally by choice. Classic rock and roll, moving along to hard rock, heavy metal, head banging music has always been our choice of music. We have some dear friends who for 20 years aided and abetted by getting us into concerts, getting us front row seats, and occasionally backstage, but we were always near the biggest, loudest, heart pounding amps possible. Earplugs? Nah.

Our daughter inherited and surpassed our taste in music, and has passed it along to her kids. Once my husband decided he wasn't a "crowd" kinda guy anymore, daughter and mother started going to rock concerts together. Our crowning glory, so far, was driving 12 hours in 2 days to attend a Foo Fighters concert, in Phoenix earlier this year.

But as my three grandsons grew, it was important to me to be with them at their first rock concerts. My daughter and I took the oldest two to Green Day. Then followed up with a Linkin Park concert. They weren't quite as enthused with the experiences, but that's ok. I was there for their firsts.

Our youngest grandson, an early teen a few years ago, wanted to see Imagine Dragons, so again, I was happy to ride along for his first concert. He liked the concert, but honestly was more entertained by the very high heeled, very drunk concertgoer trying to stay upright.

But it "took" with him, and he now has a very diverse playlist. I love singing with him, about as off key as possible, as loudly as we can in the car: "Bye bye, Miss American Pie....".

There is an upcoming tribute concert for a favorite, fallen singer, at the Forum, hosted by the Foo Fighters, featuring Metallica, and we got 3 "going on sale at 10:00 am Friday" tickets. Being in LA, hopefully the stage will be prime for many unannounced, surprise guests. We are so excited about this concert, and I must have a commemorative t-shirt!

My daughter is concerned that her son will see the best, loudest concert he'll ever attend, at the tender age of 15-2/3. But stepping back, I love the idea of 3 generations, going this rock concert together.

I know to many of my contemporaries, Foo Fighters, Imagine Dragons, Linkin Park are foreign words, but at least they still have a modicum of hearing.

My loss of hearing was diligently, carefully and purposely cultivated over many, many years and when you see me in my cool new concert t-shirt, you know you'll just have to speak a little louder!

Jodie Hawkins
Honorable Mention, 2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]

Dear Reader Column 12-04-19

Dear Reader,

"If only they could talk." I'm pleased to present Joanna Gonzalez's Honorable Mention column in this year's Write a DearReader Contest.

Congratulations Joanna...

I've been up for a couple of hours now. It's early morn, still dark with a slight chill in the air. Crisp. That's what they call it. A crispy morning. I wait patiently. So patiently. Time seems to go by differently for me, though. A second is more like an hour. A day, an eternity. I start to doze off. And then...

There! Ah, finally. I see my faithful, old friend peeking through the curtains. I look out the window to confirm. Yes, a hint of sunshine tells me it's time. I rush upstairs and burst through the bedroom door that is always left slightly ajar for me. So considerate.

I nudge her gently. She stirs. "Hurry, hurry, hurry", I whine softly. "Come on", I nudge her again.

She looks at me bleary-eyed, half a smile on her face. "It's early", she sighs sleepily. "Get in," she says pulling the bed covers back.

Tempting. But... "No, I've got to go right now", I whimper. "Okay, sweetheart. I hear you. Let's go," she mumbles. Slipping on her bathrobe, she follows me down the stairs.

I'm excited. When she opens the back door, I run out. I pace around, breathing the fresh air in. A sneeze. Another. I continue pacing, taking my environment in. I find the perfect spot. Sigh. Instant relief. Before heading back in, I bask in the little warmth of the sun on my back for just a second. There's a slight breeze. I happily trot back inside.

When she locks the door, she picks me up. She nuzzles me and I give her a quick kiss. "Let's go back to sleep," she giggles. Should I mention my breakfast? Nah, I'll wait. A nap sounds really good right now.

"I love you. I'm so lucky to have you," she whispers as she tucks me into bed beside her. I stretch, thump my tail in happy acknowledgment, and settle in to sleep. Closing my eyes, I think back to the day we first met.

I had a different name then. They said I was depressed. Not eating, sleeping or playing. I was too busy waiting for my family to return. Then one day, there she was. She spent a long time with me. Sitting, stroking my fur. I looked forward to her visits. Next thing I knew I was here. Home. That day, I was the lucky one. I wonder if she knows that for me, it was love at first sight.

Joanna Gonzalez
Honorable Mention, 2019 Write a DearReader Contest

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.

Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]