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realmjit http://realmjit.livejournal.com/414635.h
It's summer! Time to indulge! Indulge in lazy afternoons. Indulge in luscious summer reading. Indulge in yummy treats. Like chocolate.
To celebrate summer, chocolate, and the release of the Silent Empire books on the Kindle, I'm holding the Chocolate Covered Kindle Contest.
To enter:
1. Post your favorite true anecdote involving chocolate.
2. The anecdote can be sensual, romantic, cute, heart-tugging, funny, anything you like--but it must be true. (No sex stories, please! That's a contest of a different kind.)
3. Entries will be judged on how interesting they are and how full of chocolatey goodness they are.
4. Deadline is Tuesday, June 30 at 5:00 p.m.
5. The winner will receive an autographed copy of a Silent Empire book of his or her choice--and a bar of delicious chocolate.
As an example: When Aran was three, I baked a batch of chocolate brownies and put them on the counter to cool. Aran looked at them longingly, but I told him they were too hot to eat yet, so he shouldn't touch them. Then I took him out into the back yard, where I had yard work to finish. A few minutes later, I heard Aran crying inside the house. I ran inside and found him in the kitchen wearing a pair of oven mitts. The mitts and his face were smeared with chocolate. He had snuck back into the house, but he remembered that the brownies were too hot, so he put on the oven mitts. But then he discovered he couldn't get at the brownies with his hands covered. I felt awful--I didn't know how much the brownies meant to him. I cut him one and gave him a fork, and he was so very happy. [This falls into the "cute" category.]
What can you share with us?
And be sure to check out DREAMER http://www.amazon.com/Dreamer-Novel-Sile
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And chocolate--is there anything it can't do?
When I was small I entered things in the county fair - as was the wont of most of the children in the area. It was encouraged by the schools, and we got to take time off should we so desire to make our wonderful confectionery masterpieces.
It was always obvious which had a bit extra help, but if things were a little bit more smooth here in a bowl of fudge then there was little to complain about.
After all, fudge is hot. And someone has to pour.
And when I was old enough - still small, but a bit closer to the age when I realize that no, flour did not belong in the fudge, thank you, I was left to make the recipe to my own devices.
It was, after all, a secret family recipe. One that we took off a can of carnation milk and then hid from the rest of the world.
So I ended up making my two batches, fully intending that they would be perfect. And one... looked perfect. But the truth is, there was always someone getting a little bit extra help - with an actual secret family recipe here, or an added sheen of shine there - but there wasn't a year I was more proud of my fourth place ribbon.
Flour went in pancakes after all, and they were what one made - traditionally - for ones parents. And then...there was flour everywhere. But at three it was still cute (now when I do it, it seems less so apparently. I think it just makes things taste better)