CHOCOLATE AND COMFORT FOOD - MARGARET TANNER

COMFORT FOOD – MARGARET TANNER

Comfort food what is it? Of course, food that makes you comfortable, happy and content. A reward for doing something well, or a panacea for all the trials and tribulations you have had to put up with? No matter what excuse we use, and I have used them all i.e. if something good has happened to me, I reward myself with chocolate. On the other hand, if something bad has happened to me and I need cheering up, I reward myself with a chocolate.

What is my favourite food you might ask? Well, being a chocaholic, you know what I am going to say -  Chocolate, closely followed by biscuits (or as American’s say, cookies). My hips bear witness to this addiction of mine.

My favourite chocolate is milk chocolate, followed by dark chocolate, (which scientists are now saying is good for you, I could have told them that), and white chocolate. I have to confess I am not a great fan of white chocolate, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I find it too sweet and sickly.

I prefer a plain chocolate bar, but I do enjoy a chocolate bar with peppermint or honeycomb in it.

Now biscuits. I enjoy most of them, particularly chocolate coated biscuits, but my favourite are ANZAC biscuits.

In 1915, these biscuits were baked by mothers and sisters and sent in food parcels to troops serving on the Gallipoli peninsula in Turkey.  The soldiers were members of an expeditionary force, the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZACS). Four of my novels are set against a background of World War 1.

ANZAC BISCUITS:

Ingredients:

125g (4 oz) butter, 1 tablespoon golden syrup, 2 tablespoons boiling water, 1 ½ teaspoons bicarbonate of soda (baking powder), 1 cup rolled oats, ¾ cup desiccated coconut, 1 cup flour, 1 cup sugar.

Method:

Melt butter and golden syrup over low heat. Add boiling water mixed with bicarbonate of soda.  Pour into mixed dried ingredients and mix well.

Drop teaspoonfuls of mixture on to greased baking trays, leaving room for spreading.

Bake in pre-heated slow oven (150C/300F) for 20 minutes. Cool on trays for a few minutes, then remove to wire racks to cool.

Store in an airtight container.  Makes about 45.

DARING MASQUERADE:

When Harriet Martin masquerades as a boy to help her shell-shocked brother in 1916, falling in love with her boss wasn’t part of the plan.

http://amzn.com/B0081CJECY

http://www.margarettanner.com/

BOUDICA, WARRIOR QUEEN by Shirley Martin

Throughout  past centuries, the island of Britain has endured successive waves of invaders.  First came the Celts, then the Romans, the Anglo-Saxons, the Vikings, and finally the Normans.  All of these groups settled in Britain and permanently altered life on the island.  (Here we will use Celt  and Briton interchangeably.)

Around  3,500 B.C. it was the Celts who first  cultivated land and raised crops.  They spoke a Celtic language.  Their chariots were made of wicker, light and springy. Theirs was an Iron Age civilization, considered  backward  by the Romans who landed  on the island in 43 A.D.  At the time of the Roman invasion, Britain was  populated  by Celtic tribes.  One tribe was the Iceni who lived in what is now Norfolk.  The Iceni were Boudica’s tribe, relatively isolated and culturally backward.

Into this Celtic-speaking, backward country, the Romans came with their legions in 43 A.D.  Many tribes, especially those with strong trading contacts, welcomed the Romans or at least submitted without a fight.  Other tribes fought and were  defeated.  The Iceni of Norfolk submitted.  In due time, the British kings placed themselves under the protection of the Roman Empire.  Among these kings was Prasutagus of the Iceni.  In the circumstances of his deal with the Romans lies the origin of the great revolt of 60 A.D.  Prasutagus’s wife was Boudica.  (Her name means Victoria.)  The Iceni were relatively isolated, cut off behind the forests of Suffolk and Norfolk.

The Romans let the Iceni  retain some privileges  and a token independence in return for a payment of tribute and disbursements.

In time, many tribes came to resent Roman rule, especially when the Romans forbade them to carry arms except for hunting weapons.  In 50 A.D. the Iceni were the first people to rebel, and they immediately sought help from their neighbors.  The revolt was a minor affair but was symptomatic of Celtic resentment against Roman rule.

What is known today as Colchester was a site chosen by the Romans as a model town.  However, this meant that the Romans took land away from the Celts who needed that land to grow crops.  Towns were an innovation in British life in the 50s and were unknown before the Roman conquest.  High Street in Colchester was the main shopping center, then as now.

Most of what we know as Boudica’s rebellion we learn from Tacitus, a Roman historian.

Amazon

Prasutagus died in 60 A.D.  After he died, Roman agents moved into Iceni  country and plundered the royal  household.  Boudica was flogged and her daughters given to Roman slaves to be raped.   This  prompted  the Iceni  revolt, and other tribes joined them.  Colchester was the first object of this revolt, and isolated Roman  settlers on their farms were the first to be murdered.  The Iceni began a reign of terror.

The Roman governor, Suetonius, could not come to help the Roman settlers, for he was far away, attacking the druidic stronghold on the island of Anglesey.

Boudica surrounded Colchester and  burned the town.  With their great supply of fine horses, the Iceni and their allies moved quickly.  They destroyed other towns and settlements.  They moved south and attacked London, a Roman creation.

After the Roman governor, Suetonius, destroyed the druidic stronghold, he rushed to aid his fellow Romans.  He realized that London could not be saved.  The Iceni  continued with their terror tactics, cutting throats, hanging, burning and crucifying.

With London destroyed,  Boudica had reached a moment of decision.  What should she do now?  She decided to follow Suetonius and attempt to deal a decisive blow.

After the fall of London, Suetonius fell back on a base, where he would find the reinforcements he’d already ordered.

At the final  battle, the Roman numbers may have been around 7,000 to 8,000 legionaries, with 4,000 auxiliary and cavalry.  In front of them, the British on foot and on horses spread over a wide area and kept up a terrific racket to frighten the Romans.  They were so confident of victory that they stationed their wives and families to watch the slaughter.

We don’t know for sure the numbers of the British army; it has been estimated at 100,000.  Some say they numbered 1,000,000.  We can say with confidence that the Romans were heavily outnumbered.

Both leaders gave pep talks to their followers, Boudica to the British and Suetonius to the Romans.  We don’t know for sure what Boudica said to her warriors, but most likely Boudica taunted  the men with these words: “Win the battle or perish.  That’s what I, a woman, will do.  You men can live on in slavery if that’s what you want.”

We are more certain of Suetonius’s words to the Romans, for most likely his talk was recorded by Agricola, the father-in-law of Tacitus.  “Ignore the racket made by these savages.  There are more women than men in their ranks.  They’re not soldiers; they’re not even properly equipped.  We’ve beaten them before, and when they see our weapons  and feel  our spirit they’ll  crack.  Stick together.  Throw the javelins, then push forward.  Knock them  down with your shields and finish them off with your swords.  Forget about booty.  Just win, and you’ll have the lot. “

A brave and gallant woman, Boudica was no strategist, nor were the other Britons.  Here, the Britons had no chance, in spite of their superior numbers.  In fact, their numbers made the situation worse.  Also, they had no  body armor, no  protection against the javelins thrown at them.   Driven against their carts, the Britons were slaughtered, even when they tried to surrender.  The Romans were mad with blood lust, driven by revenge.  With no means of escape, men, women, children and pack animals were killed.  Tacitus gives the number at 80,000.  The Romans lost 400.

Realizing defeat, Boudica poisoned herself and was buried secretly with great honor.  Famine, devastation and slavery was the lot of the remaining Iceni.

The Romans remained in Britain for another four-hundred years.

My comment:  It’s ironic that the Romans considered the Celts as culturally backward.  It was they (the Romans) who held their bloody shows in the arena, when gladiators fought each other to the death, or battled wild animals.  Think of Nero’s persecution of the early Christians, when even young children were burned to death.

For that matter, it was the Celts who invented soap (sopa.) while the Romans applied oil and scraped it off their skin.)

Please check out my website.  www.shirleymartinauthor.com

Here are other links I’d be happy for you to check.

https://twitter.com/mshirley1496

https://www.facebook.com/shirley.martin716970

http://bookswelove.net/authors.martin-shirley

Books We Love titles are available at Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes&Noble, Kobo, the Apple istore and at other sites where ebooks are available online.  Four of my titles are in print and available at your local bookstore.

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The Lennon-McCartney of the 18th Century

 

Mozart's Wife

 

The tenor, Michael Kelly, wrote a memoir which remains interesting to anyone searching for Mozart stories, particularly about the Marriage of Figaro. (The Austrian Emperor and therefore everyone else in Vienna referred to Kelly as "Ochelli" because "The names of all Irishmen begins with an 'O". Therefore, OChelli he was--in Vienna.)  Lesson #1--never correct the Emperor of Austria if you would like to keep your job at the royal opera house...
 

From the tenor Michael Kelly’s "Reminiscences," published 1826 :

 

“I remember the first rehearsal of the full band, Mozart was on the stage with his crimson pelisse and gold-laced cocked hat, giving the time of the music to the orchestra. Figaro’s son, “Non piu andrai, farballone amoroso…” Bennuci gave with the greatest animation and power of voice.

 

I was standing next to Mozart, who, sotto voce, was repeating, “Bravo! Bravo! Bennuci!” and when Bennuci came to the fine passage, “Cherubino, alla vittoria, alla Gloria militar” which he gave out with Stentorian lungs, the effect was electricity itself, for the whole of the performers on the stage and those in the orchestra, as if actuated by one feeling of delight, vociferated Bravo! Bravo! Maestro! Viva, viva grande Mozart! Those in the orchestra I thought would never have ceased applauding, by beating the bows of their violins against the music desks. The little man acknowledged, by repeated obeisances, his thanks for the distinguished mark of enthusiastic applause bestowed upon him…” 

 

No more, you amorous butterfly,

Will you go fluttering round by night and day,

Disturbing the peace of every maid,

You pocket Narcissus, you Adonis of love,

No more will you have those fine feathers,

That light and dashing cap,

Those curls, those airs and graces,

That rosy womanish cheek.

You’ll be among warriors, by Bacchus!

Long moustaches, knapsack tightly on,

Musket on your shoulder, saber at your side,

Head erect and bold of visage,

A great helmet, waving plumes,

Lots of honor, little money,

And instead of the fandango,

Marching through the mud.

Over mountains, through valleys,

In snow and days of listless heat,

To the sound of blunderbusses,

Shells and cannons

Whose shots shall make your ears sing

On every note.

Cherubino, onto victory,

Onto Military Glory!

 

(Cherubino, alla vittoria, alla Gloria militar!)

 

This is one of the most famous (and fun!) arias in all of opera. Set to Mozart’s most stirring martial music, it is mockingly sung to Cherubino, the teen would-be lady-killer, by the older servant,  wily Figaro. The Count who rules them all has just caught the boy hanging around once too often, first with his wife, and just now with Susanna, the pretty maid whom the Count is hot to seduce. As Cherubino is his ward and of noble blood, he can’t just murder him, (much as he'd like to,) so he's ordered him into the army.

 

The military is still the classic solution for boys who suffer from a chronic overload of testosterone and who are causing problems around your house—or on the street. Written in the late 18^th Century, when war still had a cloud of romance hanging round it—no machine guns, tanks, drones or poison gas just yet—it’s straight on the mark. “Glory” is meant ironically. Figaro is sobering the boy up, saying that soldiering means real danger, exhaustion and suffering. So get ready, kid!

 

It’s a nice example of DaPonte’s nuanced writing, words that inspired Mozart to write his most famous scores. Figaro first sings mocking praises—“Pocket Narcissus” has to be one of the best put-downs ever. Then he gets tougher. There will be no further perfumed romps in My Lady’s chambers. Your new bosom companions, my son, will be hardened soldiers--and your 60 lb. knapsack. No more dances, only marching, almost always in the worst weather.  In the 18^th Century, too, armies were often chronically without pay, not only because of the usual bad planning, but because wrecking havoc on civilians was (and, heck, still is) traditionally part of the game. DaPonte and Mozart, both freelance artists, know only too well that honor without the cash to back it up was a hollow thing indeed.

 

For the coup de grace, Figaro describes the pain which bombs and gunshots will cause your ears. It’s a misery particularly singled out by DaPonte and Mozart for Cherubino, a musical boy who writes beautiful love songs for all his girlfriends.

 

No more honey-dripping for you, Punk! From now on, your ears will “sing” to you of war! 

 ~~Juliet Waldron

Take a little walk into my 18th Century world:

http://amzn.to/1UDoLAi    and

http://www.julietwaldron.com

 

 

And because it's Nanina Gottlieb's birthday today and because she too--aged 11--sang in this opera:

 

Nanina's Mozart story

Write-ins By Connie Vines

Happy Thursday, Everyone!

Writing without interruptions and distractions--a fact or a life long dream?

If you have a full time day job (me) it is difficult to snag writing time.  While signing up for the book in a month writing challenge may work for many, it only creates additional stress for me.  Weekly critique groups were helpful when I was a novice writer.  Now I find attending a critique group results in  giving up writing time and ending up with several hours of additional home work.

So how do I get support, without taking on additional duties?

One answer: Hold a Write-in.

What is a Write-in?
A write-in is a gathering of writers at a predetermined place, within a predetermined time period--who work quietly and independently on his or her own project.

Is a Write-in like a Critique Group?
No.  Write-ins are only for writing. Writers arrive and leave at any time during the scheduled time periods, no pre-work is required. Any numbers of writers may participate.

Critique groups are for discussing manuscripts previously submitted and studies by group members.  Attendance is expected, and group membership is small and closed.

How Do I Organize a Write-in?

A Coordinator.  Our network chair coordinates suggestions for write-in locations each week and posts information on our weekly email list.  We could set up a yahoo group, but that seems too labor intensive.  We rotate between several locations:  a reserved library room, local coffee shops, homes.

Since I like to keep my weekends free, I usually attend the coffee shop group 2 evenings a month. Other members meet after a RWA (Romance Writers of America) Chapter meeting, or a book club event held at the local library.

A Consistent Time Frame, with Exceptions.  Saturday groups favor 9 AM to 3 PM with a break for lunch.  I favor the 6:30 - 8-ish group with multiple coffee refills, situated in several large booths at a quaint (aka: somewhat dated) coffee shop.

This is a welcoming, open, supportive atmosphere.  The only rule is to avoid talking, so writers can write.  It is during lunch time or during the first ten minutes that we play social catch-up or discuss publishing news.


For those of you who love a bargain, my books are on sale this month on Amazon.  Starting with "Lynx"  Rodeo Romance Book 1, "Brede" Rodeo Romance Book 2,  and "Here Today Zombie Tomorrow"  Novella 1 in my Sassy and Fun Fantasy Series!


Happy Reading,
Connie

Connie's Amazon.com Page. Purchase links (99 cent sale!)

For the love of a Barbarian - by Vijaya Schartz

DAMSEL OF THE HAWK just released in the medieval fantasy series Curse of the Lost Isle. The story is set in 1204, after the sacking of Constantinople by the Crusaders, and I had lots of fun with the research. My hero is one of the mysterious Kipchak warriors who served in the Byzantine emperor's personal guard. Savagely loyal, fearless, and deadly, the Kipchak offered their skills for gold, and Constantinople had plenty.

As barbarians go, the Kipchak are full of surprises for a westerner like me. Raised in France, I always considered the hordes from the east a bunch of uncivilized demons on little horses, eating raw meat, killing, and pillaging. Although some tribes were more violent than others, and despite the fact that many lived in tents, these barbarians of the steppes, when they settled, could build beautiful cities, temples and palaces. There is also a gap in centuries between Attila the Hun and Genghis Khan, who was on the rise at the time of the story.

The Kipchak also brought with them a number of amenities we still enjoy today. They didn't eat their meat raw, they grilled it, and many of us still like a good Mongolian Barbecue. They brought us medicine herbs and spices from the orient. They traded silk and precious gems as they controlled the roads between the continents. They enjoyed fermented drinks, made from goat milk, oats and barley, and they could drink great quantities of it. They could hold their liquor like no one else.

While the Crusaders used a crossbow and fired their bolts in volleys, the Kipchak used a small composite bow of wood, horn and sinew, with incredible precision. They could hit their mark from a great distance, with a single arrow, from the saddle of a galloping horse. The Kipchak's skills as riders reached the point of acrobatics. Their horses, small in comparison to the enormous destriers of the western knights, could travel great distances in very little time, even in mountainous terrain.

Always close to nature, the Kipchak raised horses, sheep and goats, and they loved and respected their animals, although they rarely named them. They even had a white dog deity named Kopec. Of course, that's what I named the hero's white sheepdog in the story.

But there was also gold in the Caucasus Mountains between the Caspian and the Black Sea, and the Kipchak weren't immune to the fascination of precious metals. The women wore headdresses and heavy necklaces made of gold coins, especially the khan's wives and concubines.

Their beauty was legendary. The term Caucasian comes from their look. Part Asian and part Viking (the Russ tribe that invaded from the north), they had golden skin and clear eyes, very little body hair, and the men kept their hair short under the turban. They bathed often and kept good personal hygiene, compared to the often smelly Crusaders.

I will miss my close relationship to these Kipchak warriors as I move on to writing the next book in this series, which will be set in Poitou and Aquitaine (France), and will feature Melusine the Fae, the infamous lady of Lusignan.

Here is my new release:
DAMSEL OF THE HAWK
Curse of the Lost Isle Book 7 (standalone)
from Books We Love Ltd
by Vijaya Schartz
in eBook and paperback
http://amzn.com/B01CH93SNM

1204 AD - Meliora, immortal Fae and legendary damsel of Hawk Castle, grants gold and wishes on Mount Ararat, but must forever remain chaste. When Spartak, a Kipchak warrior gravely wounded in Constantinople, requests sanctuary, she breaks the rule to save his life. The fierce, warrior prince stirs in her forbidden passions. Captivated, Spartak will not bow to superstition. Despite tribal opposition, he wants her as his queen. Should Meliora renounce true love, or  embrace it and trigger a sinister curse... and the wrath of the Goddess? Meanwhile, a thwarted knight and his greedy band of Crusaders have vowed to steal her Pagan gold and burn her at the stake...

HAPPY READING!

Vijaya Schartz
Blasters, Swords, Romance with a Kick
http://www.vijayaschartz.com

Amazon - Barnes & Noble - All Romance eBooks  

We all need a friend--Tricia McGill

A Heart in Conflict is available here

Everyone who knows me well, knows I am a passionate lover of animals. I watch just about every animal documentary on TV, and support a few wildlife societies. It never ceases to delight me how some species seem to mate for life, and others find true and lifelong friends of a different species. I am left to wonder why some humans can’t take a leaf out of the animals’ books and do likewise. How many of us have a special friend, be it male or female, who knows us almost as well as we know ourselves and know just what we would be likely to do in a given situation. I have been blessed in my life to have had close friends who have stuck by me through the highs and lows.

I had a very interesting conversation with my hairdresser the other day. We were discussing the way of the world and how too many  people seem to spend their lives being jealous, envious or just downright nasty about others who appear to have more than them or are getting on a tad better than they are. So many people seem to despise someone who is ‘getting on in the world’. The tall poppy syndrome seems to abound. Certain people are lauded when they are striving to become better at what they do, but once they achieve stardom, success or show they have excelled in a particular skill, are then subject to criticism. And why are so many obsessed by another’s shape, looks or bank balance? I’m appalled at the number of young people who are having Botox, plastic surgery or similar to alter their shape or looks. Spend more time just being a better person for goodness sake and not a better looking one. Go out and become a volunteer and see how much satisfaction can be gained by helping someone less fortunate, and spend less time worrying about trifling matters such as the size of your breasts or backside.

Take movie stars, and the load of rubbish some have to take on social media or in the glossies. I rarely buy magazines to be honest, and the only chance I get to open one and actually see what is inside their pages is at the hairdresser (again) or in the doctor’s waiting room. How many times I have read that a star is expecting a baby as she so obviously has a ‘bump’, only to learn it was an over-zealous reporter jumping to conclusions. A star is said to be ‘furious’ with her husband or boyfriend because he has been flirting with another woman. How on earth does the writer of this article know this star is so angry? Has the writer ESP so knows what goes on in the other’s mind. Or, was it a close friend of the star perhaps informing them of her fury? Some friend, to disclose her friends’ personal details to a newshound!

Back to my original paragraph about animals and their devotion to each other. I recently read this story about two chimpanzees who spent a combined 58 years in isolation. Jeannie was in a research lab and Terry a zoo, before they were rescued and taken to a sanctuary, where they are now inseparable. They rarely let each other out of sight and spend as much time touching as possible, as if in reassurance that their days of isolation are behind them. It is clear they relish their friendship and freedom. What a wonderful thing to know they have discovered the pleasure to be gained by holding hands with a true friend.

Buy When Fate Decides (Challenge the Heart Book 1)

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