Easy Meatloaf Dinner

Since I retired from my day job to write full time, I've also started doing a lot more cooking. Both my husband and I enjoy cooking and hubby is even trying to learn how to bake! Last night, we managed to throw together another delicious dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, and an apple spice cake. I had hoped for enough leftover meatloaf and mashed potatoes to make a pseudo-Shepard's Pie for dinner tonight, but no such luck so today I have chicken chili in the crock-pot. My meatloaf never really tastes the same way twice because I tend to vary the recipe and for some reason, I hit a home run last night.

Here is what I threw together and a few tips to help you through your hectic food preparation.

Meatloaf
1 lb lean ground beef
1 tsp. salt (optional, I often don't put salt into food)
1/3 c. oatmeal
1/2 c. milk
1/2 of a medium onion, chopped fine
1/8 tsp pepper
1 egg (beaten)
1 tsp minced garlic
1 Tbsp. chopped chipotle chili with adobo sauce
Ketchup or chili sauce (to spread on top)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Soak the oatmeal in the milk while you mince the onions. You don't have to, but it is a good idea. Mix everything (with your hands--that really works out best) except the last ingredient.

Spray a loaf pan or grease it to avoid sticking. Spread the meat mixture into the pan and then pour a Tbsp or 2 of the ketchup or chili sauce on top.

Bake at 350 degrees for about an hour to 1 and 1/4 hours.

Time and Food Saver Tip
A lot of recipes, including the one above, call for a Tbsp or so of chipotle chilies and adobo sauce. The problem is, you generally have to open a small can and you only use a small part of it. I have found that I can scrap the rest of the can's contents into a quart-sized freezer bag, smoosh it out so that the contents of the bag are spread out and there is little-to-no air and then freeze it.

The advantage of this is that you can then break of pieces of the chilies and sauce and easily chop it up to add to recipes. I find that it is actually much easier to chop up the chilies into much smaller pieces when they are frozen, so this works well (at least for me).

Apple Spice Cake
The cake we made last night was basically the one from this link: Spice Cake from Allrecipes.com, except that I modified it as follows.

2 Apples cored and sliced thinly, spritzed with a little fresh lemon juice to keep them from going brown

Bisquick Streusel topping:
2/3 c. Bisquick
2/3 c. Brown sugar
4 Tbsp. Butter
1 Tsp. Cinnamon

Using a pastry cutter, cut the butter into the Bisquick, brown sugar and cinnamon until the consistency is grainy with pea-sized bits.

Make the spice cake then layer the apples on top. Layer the streusel topping on top of the apples. The spice cake calls for baking in a 9 x 13" pan, but I put it into a Bundt pan, which meant I had to bake it for 50 minutes instead of the 40 minutes the spice cake recipe called for.

It was delicious. :)

Today, I'm baking our French bread for the week and we have chicken chili for dinner, which gives me time to do some writing. Good eats all around!


What Else Am I Working On?
My editor at Highland Press emailed me about a sweet Regency romance anthology they are putting together and she asked if I could dash off a novella for it. I have a terrible track record with novellas and "dashing things" off, but I did agree so I've been working very hard to get 20,000 words written and edited. I'm now working on the ending, which is always the hardest part for me. The story is tentatively (and not very creatively) called "The Thief" and will once more feature the cursed emerald necklace, the Peckham Necklace, and another member of the Archer family.

It's what I consider a light, fun story and I really hope my editor and my readers like it. My first novel published with Highland Press is called The Necklace and it too features the emerald necklace so I thought the novella would be a nice continuation with the Archer family and their misadventures with their infamous necklace.

Wish me luck and happy reading!

Guest: Amie Louellen on Creative Ideas

Welcome to week two of the Valentine's Month Blog tour. Visit as many of the eleven blogs as you can, leave a comment, and you're automatically entered in a chance to win weekly prizes and a grand prize worth over $50.

The bloggers are listed at the bottom of this blog, so be sure to check them out and leave comments.

Now, here is Amie Louellen on the topic of Where Creative Ideas Come From...

What if…



Those are the most dangerous words in a writer’s vocabulary. Or at least they are for this writer.


I can’t say where ideas really come from, but the “what’s ifs” are everywhere.


What if the van parked in the driveway at my neighbor’s house is not really a plumber? What if the girl walking down the street is a runaway? What if the cashier at McDonalds is a billionaire?


It’s where the writer takes it from the “what if” that truly makes it creative. I write funny, light-hearted romance. So…given the above what ifs…


The not-really-a-plumber is spying on her ex, the girl is a runaway bride, and the billionaire lost a bet.


And then I’d take it one step further.


Our “plumber” borrowed the van from a friend. Of course she knows nothing about plumbing and is about to be approached by the hero who needs advice on his pipes (no pun intended. Okay, okay, it was intended—shrug—what can I say?). The bride is about to be picked up by our cowboy hero who is unknowingly assisting a runaway Mafia bride. (Trust me, this would be hysterical!) And our billionaire bet his mousey—yet brilliant—executive assistant that he could hold down a “regular” job (again, too funny!).


Now, someone who writes horror would probably make the plumber a serial killer. A science fiction writer would make the runaway bride an alien, and the billionaire…uh…I got nothing but a mousey—yet brilliant—executive assistant. But I think you get the idea.


I believe writers are hardwired for their genre. That’s not to say that an author can’t change it up. My agent often times tells me, “you’re a writer…write it.” But the creative process remains the same. The idea comes, then the writer follows it where the muse leads.


And the idea comes from…


Well, Susan Elizabeth Phillips swears there’s a warehouse in Tulsa where they’re stored. But I’ve lived in Tulsa half my life, and I’ve never run across the place. (I mean, hey, this town ain’t that big). So… I’m gonna have to go with thin air. But I’m not sure it matters as much where the idea comes from as what is done with it.


Now about that billionaire…



Addendum—Right after I completed this blog, Oklahoma was hit by a blizzard. We got almost 18 inches of the white stuff in my neighborhood. My family has been snowed in for days. I’m married—which means I have no control over the television. I have a 10 year old son—which means there is no peace and quiet…ever. And they both expect me to cook—really? So as I am wandering around the house, unable to write (I did mention the lack of peace and quiet, didn’t I?) unable to read (“Mama, play a game with me.” Did I mention said child was grounded from all electronics?) and unable to even clean (Outside dog is now inside and doesn’t know what to do with himself indoors), the “what ifs…” set in. What if a couple is snowed in unexpectedly? What if their sigs are best friends? What if they are sworn enemies? What if…well, you get the idea. At least, no one can invade my mind…though I’m pretty sure the 10 year old has tried! Please send help…a 4-wheel drive and peace of mind <3 AL


Addendum to my addendum—Another 4 to 6 inches expected today. Seriously…send help—chocolate, coffee, and Xanax.

Amie Louellen--Brodie's BrideThe Wild Rose Press Valentine's Blog Tour:


Amie Louellen loves nothing more than a good book. Except for her family…and maybe homemade tacos…and shoes. But reading and writing are definitely high on the list. When she's not creating quirky characters and happy endings she enjoys going to little league baseball games and boy scout meetings. Born and bred in Mississippi, Amie is a transplanted Southern Belle who now lives in Oklahoma with her deputy husband, their genius son, a spoiled cat, and one very hyper beagle.

Brodie's Bride

Blurb
Waking up next to a beautiful golden-haired stranger isn’t the worst thing that has ever happened to Brodie Harper, but staying in a fake marriage in order to gain a new construction contract could very well be.

Savanna Morgan just wanted a way out of an engagement to a man she didn’t love. Marrying Brodie seemed liked the perfect answer at the time. Less perfect the next morning when she finds herself disowned by her father and flat broke. Now she must make it through the weekend. Monday they can get it all annulled and forget it ever happened.

The real problem may be keeping their hands off each other until then.

Excerpt

“Married,” the official supplied with a happy nod.

For the first time since the blonde had screamed and set off the pounding in his head, Brodie noticed the band that circled the fourth finger of his left hand. Married. Images of a scarlet chapel and gold rings flitted through his mind. Lost in the fog of straight shots of tequila, the whole ordeal seemed liked a dream. But if what the man said was true...

Holy heaven. The last time Brodie had gotten drunk had been the day his grandfather died. Then, he’d only acquired a tattoo, but this time... Married? And to a hooker? A gorgeous hooker. An expensive hooker by the depleted state of his wallet, but a hooker none-the-less.

“Where’s my dress?”

Brodie half-turned as his hooker-bride stumped down the stairs, her naked glory covered by the rumpled satin sheet. One red, high-rise pump was missing.

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied, his headache tripling.

“You took it off. You find it.” She punched him hard in the chest with one red lacquered fingernail.

“You want it. You find it,” he countered.

“That dress was an Armani. And you—”

Brodie leaned away from the blonde and closer to the man behind the counter. “Are you sure we’re married?”

“Quite certain.”

“Married?” she squeaked.

“One hundred percent sure?” Brodie added.

“It was a lovely ceremony.”

“Married?”

Damn, Brodie thought. He was too nice of a guy, but he couldn’t stand the panic he heard in her voice. He faced her and took her left hand in his own, turning them both so she could see their identical rings. “Seems we tied the knot last night, sunshine.”

http://www.amielouellen.com/


Congratulations to Marci who won the first week's prize of a $15 The Wild Rose Press gift certificate and a $5 Samhain gift card. But don't fret, there are more prizes each week plus a grand prize the last week of February.  Just leave a comment to be entered!LINDA KAGE - http://lindakage.blogspot.com/
AMIE LOUELLEN - http://amielouellen.wordpress.com/  
CAROLINE CLEMMONS - http://carolineclemmons.blogspot.com/
JENNIFER JAKES - http://authorjenniferjakes.blogspot.com/
AJ NEUST- http://www.ajbooks.blogspot.com/
LYNNE ROBERTS - http://lynneroberts.blogspot.com/ 
MAEVE GREYSON - http://maevegreyson.blogspot.com/ 
AMY CORWIN - http://amycorwin.blogspot.com/
JILL JAMES - http://www.jilljameswrites.com/
KAT DUNCAN - http://www.katduncan.net/writeabout
LILLY GAYLE - http://lillygayleromance.blogspot.com/ 


Thanks for joining us!

Maya's Holiday Traditions

We have another Wild Rose Press author, Maya Blake, joining us to talk about Holiday Traditions. I hope you'll welcome her!

Hi, I’m Maya Blake, I’m a thirty-something romance writer whose life-long dream of writing finally came to true last year when my debut novel was published by The Wild Rose Press. I’m the fourth of five siblings and I live in Kent, England with my husband and two (sometimes, lol) adorable kids.

Christmas at home tends to be like most, I expect. There’s the excitement of Christmas morning when the kids dance around the presents with eager anticipation of opening them after lunch. Then there's getting the bird ready for the oven, the madness of lunch, the opening of presents...then of course, the semi-comatose vegging on the sofa afterwards.

That’s when the TV/DVD comes on. Anyone who watches TV in England knows without fail there’s a James Bond movie played on one channel or the other on Christmas Day. I especially LOVE the pre-digital ones featuring Roger Moore or Sean Connery because of the humour angle (my mother-in-law’s post mulled wine cackle when she hears the name Pussy Galore has become a Christmas tradition).

After James Bond comes another firm family favourite – anything featuring the Stargate series. Yes, we’re unashamed die-hard sci-fi fans and really there’s nothing better to eat mince pies with than an episode or two of Stargate SG-1 or Stargate Atlantis!


And then to top it all off, we watch Last Of The Summer Wine. This happens to be the longest running comedy series in the world which unfortunately came to an end this year. The antics of Compo, Norman and Nora Batty never fails to bring hilarity! I’d love to hear what your family favourite movie or book is.

Happy holidays!
Maya

A Little Bit About Maya's book, Hostage to Love...
Crushed by betrayal, Belle Winkworth-Jones flees the shambles of her short-lived marriage, only to be kidnapped by a vicious rebel soldier determined to keep her for himself. Nick Andreakos mounts a ruthless rescue to save the wife who walked away from him, even though he's resentful Belle could dismiss their marriage so easily.


On Althea, their private Greek island where Belle recuperates, passion ignites, taking hold with relentless force. But in the shadows, danger lurks. The rebel soldier is determined to recapture Belle.

Can Belle and Nick set aside their differences in time to fight this threat and save their love, or will it be too late…?

Excerpt from Hostage to Love

Belle jerked awake as a loud blast ripped through the cave, her eyes unprepared for the blinding, strobe flashes of light that lit up the dark cavern a second later. Squinting, she saw the flashes continue intermittently for several seconds, then stop. She lurched from her position propped up against the wall and wondered for a moment if she was still dreaming.


The screams from a few feet away told her she wasn’t.


She’d stayed awake long after the rebel leader retired behind his curtain, unable to sleep for fear he might vent his anger on Father Tom.


She’d also contemplated what she would do after nature ran its course. She’d bought them three days, four at the most. What would happen after that? Could she willingly to let the loathsome man touch her for the sake of keeping one or all of them alive? And what guarantee did she have that he wouldn’t harm Father Tom?


The idea that perhaps they could overpower two of the soldiers, steal their weapons and make a run for it, she immediately discarded as foolish, and dangerous. She’d slumped, dejected, against the wall of the cave. That’s when she must’ve fallen asleep.


Dizzy and momentarily blinded by the flashes, she jumped as Edda screamed again. What was happening? Had the rebel leader decided they weren’t worth keeping and blasted the cave, burying them alive? Curiously though, the walls of the cave remained intact. She blinked a few times to dispel the blindness. Nothing happened.


A staccato burst of muffled gunfire sounded close by. But the gunfire was inside the cave, not outside. Which meant the rebels were still inside. Something brushed against her and she bit back a scream.


‘It’s all right lass, it’s me,’ Father Tom whispered close to her. ‘I told yer we’d be rescued today.’


Rescued! Why hadn’t she thought of that? Her spirits soared. Then plummeted.


Who would rescue them? Only Liz knew where she was, and she knew her friend wouldn’t give up her whereabouts lightly. Besides, she wasn’t due to make her weekly phone call to her best friend until Monday, so she wouldn’t guess Belle might be in trouble until after she failed to make the call. As for Father Tom, having lived and run the mission in Nawaka for the last seventeen years, he wouldn’t be missed back in his native Scotland. The same went for Edda and Hendrik, who’d been travelling around Africa for the past two years. As for the Nawakan government, it had enough on its plate with its fight to prevent the gold and diamond mines from being looted to mount rescue operations of kidnapped foreigners.


So rescue was not an option.


The only other conclusion she could reach was that another rebel faction had caught wind of Captain Mwana’s bounty and intended to claim them. It wasn’t unheard of for one rebel group to seize another’s hostages if they could profit from it. Sometimes rebels within the same group rose up against each other. Was that what was happening here? Had Mwana’s subordinates staged a coup against him?


If so, they had to take advantage of the gunfight.


‘Father, I don’t think we’re being rescued, but I still think we should make a run for it. This may be our only chance.’ God, she prayed she was right.


He gave a nervous chuckle. ‘I’m with you, lass, but unfortunately, these old eyes cannot see a thing at the moment. I think I’m blind.’


She stopped herself from telling him she suffered the same ailment, although she could just about make out shadowy images in her periphery. ‘It’s all right Father. Just hold onto my hand and I’ll guide you. Keep your head down. Hendrik, Edda, are you okay?’


‘Yes,’ Hendrik responded.


She took a deep breath and edged forward, her hand clamped around Father Tom’s. They’d travelled only a few feet when a bullet slapped the cave wall beside her. Small rocks struck her cheek and she cried out. Fear strangling her, she crouched down, eyes shut, beside Father Tom.


‘We have to keep moving,’ Hendrik urged from behind her.


She opened her eyes and thankfully, most of her vision had been restored. But what little she saw stilled her heart. Since whoever was attacking the rebels was doing so from outside the cave whilst the guerrillas defended themselves from inside, there’d be no way to escape without being caught in the crossfire.


Another bullet whizzed past her and struck a lantern on the far side of the cave, igniting it. A huge plume of acrid smoke bellowed up towards the craggy ceiling of the cave.


Their situation had just worsened a hundred-fold.


She knew they only had a matter of minutes to live. Because if the bullets didn’t get them, the smoke and fire would. There was enough bedding, ammunition and lamps to set the place ablaze in seconds.


Just then the gunfire ceased.


‘Come on,’ she whispered desperately to Father Tom. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the entrance of the cave, trying not to let the sight of the bloodied bodies disturb her. She focused on the discarded guns instead. If they could arm themselves, they’d increase their chances considerably.


But as she reached for the nearest rifle, she heard the crunch of feet approaching.


Another burst of gunfire. Then silence.


Through the smoky light she saw a figure, tall and male, enter the cave, followed by two more. In silence, the men advanced towards them. Belle’s throat closed up, fear completely seizing her. She turned to Father Tom. Her hand gripped his and she tried to shield him with her body.


Someone crouched behind her. She squeezed her eyes shut.


This is it. This is it.


‘Hello, Tinkerbelle,’ a deep voice purred in her ear.