Blog Tour: Too Many Cooks

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I dream a
lot of my novels. Literally. Though I haven’t published them all.
My love for the written word apparently started
before I went to school. I was the youngest of six children, and my brother,
three years older than I, struggled a bit when he entered first grade. The
teacher sent home books for him to practice reading, and I was evidently
fascinated by the idea that those funny-looking marks actually meant something.
I nagged everyone in the family to tell me: “What’s this word?” “What’s this
say?” By the time I started kindergarten, I already knew quite a bit. In those
days, children under five years old could ride the bus for free, and because I
was short Mother figured she could save a nickel. Imagine her chagrin when
passed me off as under five, I took my seat and proceeded to read all the ads
posted inside the bus!
Even as a small child I knew I was somehow
different, and elementary school was less than a positive experience. My
parents separated, and my mother became the sole support of the four children
still at home. My escape was the school library. They had so many books, and I
could read them for free. I especially loved Walter Farley’s series with the
Black Stallion. In my fantasy world, I was the kid riding the Black Stallion,
and I was the person who rescued
 My
Friend Flicka
. My love for horses was almost as deep as my love for books.
I began writing stories on the inside of brown
paper grocery bags, complete with illustrations, but I couldn’t understand why
no one could read them properly. Then my mother pointed out that, when you
begin a new sentence, you have to start it from the left side of the paper
every time. I had written from left to right and then from right to left, and
so on and so on. It still makes sense to me. Think of all the time you could
save!
When I was eight I convinced my neighborhood
pals that we should all write books and sell them to make money to finance our
Kool-Aid stand. I ended up writing their books as well as mine, which I pretty
much plagiarized from a library book. Of course, our only buyers were parents,
so little harm was done. I sold my book to my mother for five cents—the bus
fare I’d saved her! After she died, when my sisters and I were getting her
house ready to put on the market, I came across a box of photos and keepsakes.
In the box was my book,
 The Talking Toys. My
mother had saved it all those years. I doubt that anything I have written since
or will write in the future will have the same impact.
In high school I wrote poems. They were a lot
shorter and didn’t require a plot. Some were about dreamy boys who didn’t give
me a second look. Some were about wild horses that roamed the prairies, and
later, after I was married, I wrote poems about my children. I went through
short periods where I didn’t write at all. Being a mom, a den mother, a
Bluebird leader, a backyard swim instructor and on the PTA board took almost
all of my time. But I never could quit completely. I found I couldn’t
 NOT write.
I finally got serious about writing after
joining Romance Writers of America. It opened a door that I hadn’t known
existed, though the knowledge wasn’t immediately happy. I went to my first
conference and came home a bit dejected. I had thought I was the only one who
really wanted to publish a book! I don’t know where I’d got that idea, but
seeing over 2,000 people with the same dream as mine set me back a bit. This
writing thing was not going to be so easy. It was going to be even harder
because I write less from an outline than from intuition. I
 become every character in my
books. When they get cut, I‘m the one who bleeds.
And yet…all that bleeding has paid off. While
writing is the hardest thing in the world, it’s also rewarding. I recently sold
my novel,
 Too Many Cooks, to
Boroughs Publishing Group, and it’s out now! It came from a recurring dream I
had for several nights in a row. I think I was on one of my endless diets, and
food was on my mind a lot. But, the story worked. I hope you think so too.

So, for all you struggling authors out there, don’t give up your dreams.
Write them down!

Shirley Ann Wilder  Online:
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


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Bitter news leads a San Diego widow and widower to true
love—and to a scheme to marry off their adult children, a plan that goes
deliciously awry.

Gaetano Lorenzo was the sweetest man that the
widowed Estelle Bennett had ever met. That morning began terribly, with awful
news, but now the owner and head chef of a local San Diego ristorante was
offering up Italian delights: red wine, delicious food, walks on the beach,
laughter when she’d never thought she’d laugh again…. Estelle felt twenty-five.
She and Gaetano had found the recipe for love, and a simple variation might
just get their adult children to settle down, too. A scoop of sugar, two
ladlefuls of lust, a pinch of deception and a whole 24 oz.-can of danger—
Suddenly, ingredients were coming from everywhere! But kitchens are crazy
places, and variety is the spice of life. And for anything to get cooked,
things have to get hot.

Buy Links
 
MY REVIEW!!!!
1 Widowed woman + 1 widowed man + A lovely Italian restaurant + A crazy plan + 1 single son + 1 single daughter = 2 unique and intertwined love stories that will have you laughing, crying, worrying, hopeful, and flipping the pages as you watch the world unfold. 

Is it really to crazy to hold on to old traditions in new worlds? Is the new way of doing things to fast paced to notice the small things? Does a disease really make you look at your life differently? 

The truth is Love finds itself in many places and in many unique and unimaginable ways. 

If you are a sucker for a romance you can drift away with you need to pick this up. You never know where, who or how your going to find Prince Charming but lets just hope he can cook 😉
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