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Friday, June 28, 2013

Friday Recipe: Peanut Butter and Jelly

Yes, yes, I know, a little tongue in cheek. But, since I often post a recipe that's a little more involved, I thought I'd go back to basics today.

Hands down, PBandJ was my favorite lunch when I was in school. I know many people have a peanut allergy but I didn't like lunch meat then and still don't like mayo or mustard, a typical addition to lunch meat sandwiches. So for the majority of my schooling (including college) I ate peanut butter and jelly.

The jellies varied: grape, strawberry, raspberry, blackberry, it didn't matter as long as I had a steady supply to go with the peanut butter.

What's your favorite jelly?

2 slices of bread (your choice)
Peanut Butter (I prefer chunky but again, your choice)
Jelly (So many to choose from...)
Knife for spreading

Toast bread (optional)
One one slice spread peanut butter to taste
One the second slice spread jelly to taste
Merge both slices of bread into one sandwich

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Wednesday Regency: Crushed Strawberries Facial Scrub

I don't mean to eat, though I did find a fantastic recipe for that as well. I'm looking for all natural facial products, though I love my Oil of Olay. A friend told me about a great strawberry face scrub. Summer is a great time for a little exfoliation--all that heat and humidity, all that sweat.

So I made some and it felt refreshing on my face and very fragrant. I loved it! From, though I did find others that were much simpler, likecutting a strawberry in half, rubbing it over your face, then rinsing. Why did I choose the harder one with the blender and all? Because of the lemon juice factor.

Things You'll Need

  • Lemon juice
  • Strawberries
  • Blender
  • Bowl
  • Milk
  • Measuring tool
  • 1/2 lemon
  1. Blend enough strawberries to get 7 tbsp. of strawberry mash. The grittiness of the mixture will act a natural scrub, but strawberries are an important part of the recipe because they contain alpha-hydroxy acid, which helps lift off the old dead cells and reveal new more youthful skin cells.
  2. Add 1 tsp. of lemon juice. Lemon juice contains alpha-hydroxy acids, making it another powerful tool to remove the dead skin that no longer retains water to give the skin a youthful, plump, fresh appearance.
  3. Blend in 2 tsp. of powered milk into the strawberry and lemon juice mixture. The milk is another ingredient to act as an exfoliant because it contains alpha-hydroxy acids that also slough away dead skin cell and help to unplug pores, thus removing blackheads. Milk also contains fats that help this recipe soften and seal the skin.
  4. Apply the mixture to the entire face and neck. Leave it for about 15 minutes and scrub off with a bowl of lukewarm water that has been mixed with the juice of 1/2 of a lemon.
  5. Rinse one more time with cold water to help close the pores and remove any residue.
Then I got to thinking about what Regency women used and realized they probably had all natural items as well. Why wouldn't they? A quick search found Regency Cosmetics and Make-up.
Fancy lotions were very popular among upper class women although it's doubtful whether they offered improved efficacity over home remedies such as crushed strawberries and cucumber. The complexion, that is the texture of the skin and the brilliance of the checks, where for once as important as mere prettiness. Women took exercise to brighten their complexion; after two centuries of hiding indoors with nary a draft of air 'taking the air' became a national pastime.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

#Blast: The Fugitive's Sexy Brother by @AnnabethLeong

About the Author:
Annabeth Leong has written erotica of many flavors. She loves shoes, stockings, cooking and excellent bass lines. She always keeps a new e-book loaded on her phone and a paperback stashed in her purse, but her eyes are still bigger than her stomach whenever she visits a bookseller. SShe lives in Providence, Rhode Island, blogs, and tweets. She loves talking books on Goodreads. Watch for her next contemporary erotic romance from Ellora's Cave, Get Laid.

Emily Boysen is sick of low-level bounty hunting jobs that don’t pay her rent, and sick to death of her ex-boyfriend taking credit for her work. Ready to claim her due, she takes on the quarry of a lifetime, the notorious Fernando Bonavita. But instead of the fugitive, she captures his sexy younger brother, Javier.

Javier Bonavita never wanted to know the truth about his older brother’s activities, instead protecting him out of loyalty. When he uses his hacking skills to pose as Fernando, he never expects to uncover crimes he can’t stomach. Beautiful Emily has no idea how glad he is to be in her custody—as long as he’s her prisoner, he doesn’t have to face his brother.

Passion flares between Emily and Javier, and soon he’s putting the handcuffs on her. Suspicion grows along with their feelings, though. A sinister plot centers around Fernando, and untangling it will test their loyalties to the limit.

Javier’s smart phone buzzed in his pocket. He paused his video game and glanced at the screen. The vibration originated from the custom application he’d written to monitor the motion sensors he’d set up around the perimeter of his brother Fernando’s house. Returning his attention to his computer, Javier quit the game and pulled up a view of the exterior cameras.

A girl was crawling beneath Fernando’s hedge. Even with the cameras, Javier would never have seen her if the motion sensor hadn’t pinpointed her exact position. She held her body low, wore clothes that blended in perfectly with the hues of the yard’s greenery, and moved slowly enough that she wouldn’t attract the casual eye.

Game time.

Plans and strategies tumbled through Javier’s head, but he remained still for a moment, frozen by discomfort. No jilted lover Javier could imagine would act this way, approaching the house like a single-member SWAT team. He squinted at the grainy image of her. He supposed she was a woman, not a girl, but she was a slip of a thing. Her body seemed slight in comparison to the thick, tawny hair bound at the back of her head. Skin only a shade lighter than the hair peeked out of the camouflage clothes in a few places—Javier caught a glimpse of a light brown shoulder blade and the back of a thigh. He remained glued to the screen, fascinated by her strange grace. She didn’t seem like his brother’s type at all.

Javier cleared his throat, struggling again with suspicions he didn’t want to acknowledge. But what harm could it do to play along? That girl couldn’t hurt him, and more than anything he wanted to repay Fernando for all the years he’d looked out for his kid brother. It wouldn’t hurt to earn recognition as an adult in the process. Maybe if he could gain Fernando’s trust he’d be rewarded with true explanations instead of obvious fabrications like this one.

Javier glanced down at his clothes. He should really be dressed as Fernando, but hadn’t had the patience to wear suits when he didn’t have to. He frowned at the image on the screen. He’d locked all the doors and the ground-floor windows were sealed and made of shatter-resistant materials. He had a minute before he had to decide his next step with the girl.

He went to the closet, stripping off his T-shirt on the way and stepping out of his jeans. Fernando’s clothes hung a little loose on him—their bodies were close, but the tailored touches Fernando had added emphasized his thicker physique. Javier was slightly taller and slightly leaner. He found a pair of dark-gray pants that fell far enough down on the leg and looked okay in the mirror. Javier turned to the dress shirts and found himself confronted with a dizzying array of fits and colors. How did his brother deal with all this complication every morning? And why did he care so much?

Javier shook his head at himself and reached for the nearest one, only to freeze at the sound of Fernando’s upstairs bedroom window sliding open. Had the woman really climbed up here in a matter of minutes? She hadn’t been carrying any gear.

He shrugged on the shirt and stepped out of the closet, still buttoning it. She stood just inside the window, her stance wary and her eyes on the computer screen. Handcuffs and restraints swung from the belt loops of army-green short-shorts. Her gaze flicked toward him, her blue eyes large and bright against the sandy backdrop of her face. She wore no makeup, but a generous scattering of freckles added plenty of interesting color and shape to her features. A smile spread over Javier’s face before he could think the situation through.

The interloper scowled in response, producing a can of mace. “You think this is funny, Bonavita?”

Javier held up his hands quickly. He didn’t want to get sprayed. But he couldn’t back down completely or the game would be up before it had even begun. He imitated the cool confidence his brother always possessed. “You wanted to see me so badly you couldn’t knock?”

Her frown deepened. “You watched me approach the house on video monitors, and decided to…change your clothes?”

“Couldn’t let you think I didn’t care about our date.”

She glanced at the monitors and shook her head, her lips forming the word “stupid.” Javier cocked his head, but before he could ask she brandished the mace more fiercely. “Take whatever weapons you’ve got and put them on the floor.”

“What you see is what I’ve got.”

“Yeah, I’m going to believe that.”

Javier shrugged. “If you want to strip-search me, I won’t stop you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Pig.”

“Then I guess we’re going to stand here all day.”

The woman sighed and set down the can of mace. Javier’s body relaxed, but before he had a chance to enjoy it he was on the floor, the woman on top of him. She couldn’t have weighed much, but she knew how to make her body heavy. Her legs wrapped his thighs in an intimate hold that kept him immobilized, and the blade of her forearm wedged under his chin threatened his windpipe.

Javier gasped from the shock of his back crashing to Fernando’s hardwood floor, but recovered as quickly as he could. “Beds are much more comfortable.”

“In your dreams, Bonavita.”

Moving with practiced confidence, she rolled Javier onto his side without relaxing the strength of her hold. She snapped a set of handcuffs around his wrists.

“Whoa, whoa. Baby, let’s talk about this.”

“Very funny. Like you don’t know why I’m here.” A light layer of sweat had appeared along her neck. She smelled wild and powerful, like leaves, salt and sun. Javier knew he should be more concerned about himself, but he couldn’t get his mind off the idea of her lying on top of him for an entirely different reason.

She returned Javier to his back, the position forcing his cuffed hands to dig in to his spine. He curled up to remove the pressure, but a sharply placed knee to his chest forced him back down and pinned him. “Woman, you are serious.”

“Are you just figuring that out?” Her hands slid inside his shirt. For one delicious moment, Javier’s eyelids fell shut and he shivered at her touch. She stopped moving and he opened his eyes slowly to confront her solemn stare. “You are enjoying this way too much,” she said.

If his hands had been free, Javier would have tried to enjoy it a lot more. He’d forgotten how it felt to roll around with a woman, forgotten the sensation of soft, warm flesh against his own. Sure, the situation clearly meant serious trouble for Fernando, but Fernando wasn’t here, was he? Javier felt wild and invincible. He grinned up at the woman. “How could I not? Look at you.”

She glared, but her cheeks turned rosy, bringing out a clearer view of her abundant freckles. “Wonderful. The first man to be stunned by my good looks happens to be the most dangerous quarry I’ve had in years.”
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Friday, June 21, 2013

Friday Recipe:Tex-Mex Gazpacho

I admit--I have trouble pronouncing the name of the soup. I want to add extra letters in there even when I'm looking right at the word. All that aside, the soup itself is hot, spicy, and utterly worth it. I found the recipe while looking for easy summer recipes, a search I use often. Need to keep the palate pleased and the cooking boredom at bay.

Tex-Mex Gazpacho from Real Simple Magazine's website. The photo is theirs as well. Mine didn't come out quite like theirs.

Serves 4| Hands-On Time: | Total Time:


  • 2 1/2 pounds tomatoes, chopped
  • 2 Kirby cucumbers (about 1/2 pound), peeled and chopped (in my world, cucumbers don't have names, so I have no idea if I used a Kirby one or not!)
  • 1 red bell pepper, chopped
  • 1 small poblano pepper, chopped
  • 1/2 small red onion, chopped
  • 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • kosher salt and black pepper
  • 1/3 cup sour cream
  • 1/4 cup pepitas (roasted, hulled pumpkin seeds) (Which I bought. I'm sure there's a way to do it yourself but this girl wasn't going to try!)
  • cilantro sprigs
  • warm flour tortillas, for serving (optional) (I didn't, the soup was delicious as was)


  1. In a blender, working in batches, puree the tomatoes, cucumbers, bell and poblano peppers, and onion, transferring the pureed mixture to a bowl.
  2. Stir in the lime juice, oil, 1 ¼ teaspoons salt, and ½ teaspoon pepper. Refrigerate until chilled, 15 to 20 minutes.
  3. Divide the soup among bowls and top with the sour cream, pepitas, and cilantro. Serve with the tortillas (if desired).

Thursday, June 20, 2013

#BookBlitz Coming, Ready or Not an #anthology by @LivHoneywell

About Liv:

When not writing about delicious, hot male dominants and the female subs who love them, I’m usually doing something craft-like, reading, baking, eating the results of said baking, and attempting to satisfy the demands of His High and Mighty Dominance (the cat!). My first story, Imagine, was published with Silver Moon Books last year and Coming, Ready or Not is my first solo book.

You can follow me on my blog, Goodreads, Twitter, or Facebook.


Meet Will and Abby. An ordinary couple that you wouldn’t give a second glance at if they were walking down the street. Except they share a wonderful secret and bond as they explore their Master/slave relationship.

This is a loving couple, full of good humour, but nothing in any relationship is perfect and sometimes things go wrong. Even the strongest will in the world can't always obey and with that comes consequences...

Three vignettes, The Edge, Bad Girl, and Breathless focus on control. Can Abby be taken to the edge of pleasure and not cross over? She wants to obey and to hold on. But can she? And what will happen to her if she can't?

Holding on has never felt so good...


“Will, please.”

“Excuse me? I think you mean 'Sir,' and do you really think this is up to you?”

“Er, no, Sir. I guess not. I'm sorry.”

“I should think so. Now lie back. Go on.”

I lie back against the chair. I don’t have another choice anyway. My legs are spread wide apart and strapped tightly to the chair legs, so I couldn't close them if I wanted to, and my arms are tied behind my back and then secured to the back of the chair frame. I'm really not going anywhere until my Lord and Master lets me.

You grin at me, knowing full well that there's nothing I can do.

I narrow my eyes. “You evil b...”

You grab my chin and force me to look into your eyes.

“I really don't think you want to finish that sentence, Abby. I wouldn't advise it.”

You continue circling my clit with just the tip of your finger, as you have been doing, agonisingly slowly, for the last few minutes. I moan and throw my head back.

“Oh, please, Sir. Please may I come?"

You pretend to consider my request, as if you haven’t already made up your mind. "Hmmmm, no. No, I don't think so.” You run your other hand over my breasts, pausing to tweak first one nipple and then the other.

“You need to learn that this body does not belong to you any more. It belongs to me and it's up to me if you get any pleasure and up to me when and how. Understand?"

“Ye...he...Yes, Sir”, I pant, trying desperately to hold on.

“Good girl.” You grin evilly again. “Besides I'm nowhere near done teasing you yet. I’m having far too much fun enjoying that lovely tortured expression on your face.”

I let out another low moan, borne of frustration and desire; at the same time feeling a tingling warmth and excitement in my stomach at your dominance over me.

Your touch builds me dangerously close to orgasm again, leaving me hovering right there on the edge. I try to think of something else, anything else. What are we having for dinner? What shall I make? Are we out of peas? Or perhaps His Domliness will decide he wants to go out when he has finished working up an appetite by torturing me!

The thought brings me right back into the room, back to the sensation of your fingers sliding in and out of me, your thumb lightly rubbing my clit ever closer, ever nearer. I buck in my seat, half torn between wanting to push myself forward against your thumb, wanting release so badly, and not wanting to let you down by coming without permission.

“Sirrrr,” I groan.

“Yes, Abby. What can I do for you? Do you want me to stop? Good idea!”

You remove your hand from my pussy and I let out an animal yelp of frustration. Oh God. This is the third time you have brought me to the brink of orgasm and I really don't know how much more I can stand.

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