Available now

in all good bookstores

around Australia.

 

 

 

 

 

 

1st November 2007

 

Dymocks Book Shop

Australia on Collins, Collins Street, Melbourne

 

Launched by New York Times Bestseller Stephanie Laurens!

 

Below Nicola Marsh and I sign the book.

 

 

Check out more launch party pics here!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Amy Andrews

Helen Bianchin

Ally Blake

Ann Charlton

Emma Darcy

Lilian Darcy

Robyn Donald

Anne Gracie

Barbara Hannay

Kelly Hunter

Bronwyn Jameson

Joan Kilby

Miranda Lee

Marion Lennox

Yvonne Lindsay

Stephanie Laurens

Fiona Lowe

Carol Marinelli

Nicola Marsh

Fiona McArthur

Trish Morey

Valerie Parv

Alison Roberts

Lynsey Stevens

Maxine Sullivan

Vivienne Wallington

Meredith Webber

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

Recipe for Sizzle, Seduce & Simmer

 

Ingredients:

1 woman

1 man

1 sizzling romance

1 happy ending

1 tempting recipe from your favourite author

 

Method:

1. Combine all ingredients together.

2. Season with a dash of seduction.

3. Add a sprinkling of passion.

4. Print carefully.

5. Read with relish.

 

Enjoy these delightful stories from Australia's best romance authors!

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MY RECIPE CONTRIBUTION

"Fettuccini by Candlelight"

 

buy online!

 

 

MY SHORT STORY CONTRIBUTION

"Tall, Dark & Fettuccini"

 

read an excerpt below

 

 


 

 

I know, I know, Christmas is months away.  But how quickly do those months fly buy until you realise you are six gifts short with no ideas.  Well here I am to alleviate that angst!

 

SIZZLE, SEDUCE & SIMMER is a fantabulous book burning up the bookshelves in Australia & New Zealand.  It is a collection of romantic recipes and short stories by your favourite down under authors!!!  Collated by the fantastic Marion Lennox - who had the bright idea in the first place - this book is such a delight.

 

We all hope you love reading and using it as much as we loved putting it together!

 


 

It had been one heck of a day.  Who was she kidding?  For Lizzie Rosniak it had been a heck of a month.

First she’d been fired from her job as a daytime soap opera writer when the romantic storylines she had spent the past three months developing had suddenly been deemed unrealistic and melodramatic.  Seriously, this from a show whose other writers had made three regulars become serial killers in the three years she’d worked there.

Then she’d lost yet another clever, polite, suit-and-tie boyfriend for whom she had shaved her legs bi-weekly and worn sexy lingerie even though the lacy bits made her itch, yet who hadn’t turned out to be the Mr Right his credentials had promised her he would be.

And if she hadn’t taken her seat on a jet plane two days earlier, she would have lost her sizeable deposit on a trip she had meant to have taken with Mr Now So Obviously Wrong.

So now here she was, holed up in a shabby suite in a small, ramshackle hotel poised on the edge of Lake Como, in the middle of a freezing northern winter.  Alone.  What thirty-six hours before had seemed a truly melodramatic raspberry to the world, now felt like the rotten cherry atop the deflated cake that was her life.

Lizzie tossed her handbag onto the too soft, chintz covered, king sized bed with a grandiose sigh.  After sleeping the day completely away in a haze of exhaustion, her late afternoon trip trekking the edge of the lake to take in the tall craggy mountains, crystal clear water and fairytale architecture she’d glimpsed on the death-defying bus ride in, had ended up with her getting a face full of blizzard and shoes full of melting snow while an hour’s walk away from the hotel.

Her hair now felt like sludge.  She had started to sneeze.  She was starving after eating airport pizza for dinner the night before and nothing since.  And she hated pizza.  Always had.

She looked to the phone beside the bed with thoughts of food a high priority.  But the French phrase book she had packed instead of the Italian one she had meant to bring hadn’t done her much good five minutes earlier explaining to the female concierge downstairs that she didn’t need two glasses with her complimentary champagne.  Asking for room service for one was just about beyond her.

Instead she dragged her damp cold clothes from her back and left them in a trail on the floor on the way to the bathroom.

She looked at her face in the mirror.  Hair like a mop.  Cheeks like she’s been slapped.  And eyes like glimmering pools of sadness.

‘No wonder Beach Street fired you if that’s the kind of soppy guff you’re coming up with these days,’ she said aloud.

She pursed her lips, and pulled her wet brown hair off her face trying to make herself presentable, her round cheeks chiselled and interesting, her pale grey eyes wide and captivating.

For though a small round woman had manned the desk that afternoon, the night before had been quite different.  The night before she’d been checked in by a man.  One who had spoken English.  With an accent to be sure.  But a rolling, dark, husky accent.  And dark curling hair.  And smooth olive skin.

When their eyes had met, he had given her a double take.  Perhaps because she’d just arrived after more than twenty-four hours of travelling and might very well have looked like something the cat dragged in.  But she didn’t think so.  It had been the kind of second look that had made her think of sunshine on the back of her neck and cool Muscat grapes popping lusciously between her teeth.  The kind of look that could give a girl, who until very recently had written heightened love stories for a living, grand ideas of her own.

Or maybe it was just the fact that she’d landed in a summer town in the dead of winter and hearing some random beautiful Italian man straight out of an old Fellini film actually speaking perfect English had made her momentarily delirious.

She let her hair drop in clumps around her cold ears.

‘No men,’ she demanded of her reflection.  ‘No looking.  No daydreaming.  No picturing what your kids would look like.  And definitely no melodrama.  Relax, unwind, recharge.  And that’s it.’

She reached into the ancient looking shower, turned the taps to hot, waited for the room to fill with blissful steam, then stepped beneath the piping hot spray.  She let out a great long sigh as the pellets battered her cold skin, melting her limbs, soaking her hair straight, making everything feel like there was a chance it could all turn out okay.

And then with a long telling whir, the lights flickered and switched off.  As Lizzie stood glaring at the fading filament in the bathroom globe, the heating droned to a noisy halt and the water turned bitterly cold.

 

From "SIZZLE, SEDUCE & SIMMER"
MIRA November 2007
ISBN:  TBC Copyright: © 2007
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. For more romance information surf to: http://www.eHarlequin.com


A Night with the Society Playboy  |  Hired: The Boss's Bride  |  The Magnate's Indecent Proposal

Falling for the Rebel Heir  |   Steamy Surrender  |  Millionaire to the Rescue  |  Billionaire on Her Doorstep

Getting Down to Business  |  Meant-To-Be Mother  |  Wanted: Outback Wife  |  A Father in the Making  |  The Shock Engagement  

A Mother For His Daughter  |  How to Marry a Billionaire  |  Marriage Make-Over  |  Marriage Material  |  The Wedding Wish

 
 

 

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