Excerpt from the Book



Recipes for Fireside Romance is a collection of memories from the hearts of real people who found unrequited love and enduring passion over romantic dinners and candlelit evenings.

A womans heart is a deep ocean of secrets that a man has yet to fathom, but we keep trying to explore their mysteries. Women have the matchless power to turn a man into a maelstrom of emotional thunder, emotive foibles weve yet to understand about ourselves, and that is why we strive to seek sanctity within a harbor of the truest love.

Embedded within these stories are the recipes that the endearing couples so kindheartedly passed to me that I may pass them on to my readers.

You will also find within each story secrets of lasting love. Ive traveled extensively both domestically and abroad, meeting people from all walks of life. Collecting love notes along the way, Ive attempted to unravel the riddle of power marriages and durable relationships.

I met a wonderful couple in Port Elizabeth, South Africa, listening to their life stories sharing a platter of Belgian Mussels prepared in the French style with a creamy garlic sauce. To prove his love on the first anniversary of their marriage, Shawn Brosnan climbed to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro with his sweet Anne where a very special surprise awaited them

While touring the Great Lakes Museum at Belle Isle, Michigan, a couple I met described a fascinating cruise on a lake freighter to rekindle the fires of their romance.

Each love story contains a key element to permanence in a relationship. Read, learn and apply them, and by all meanscook up a recipeto savor together in the firelight.

The names of my forever couples have been changed, but their stories are as pristine and warm as the love they have for each other.

It is an undisputed fact based upon my observations and interviews throughout the years that relationships based upon physical beauty are shallow and short-lived. Standards of beauty are as capricious, cruel and ever changing as a heartless wind on a cold winter night.

The affluent burghers of Rembrandts day saw beauty in ampleness, and with just cause: in the 17th century, when famine was still widespread in Europe, wealthy merchants desired their wives to reflect the bounty of their tables. A soft, plump figure was considered appealing from roughly 1500 to 1900.

Even art and sculpture reflected the fashion. Botticellis Birth of Venus, circa 1480, exhibited certain chunkiness. It was quite common for everyone, from prostitutes to well-bred socialites, to pad their hips, bosoms, arms and thighs.

Once the fear of food shortages abated, and along with it the age-old idea of carrying extra fat, a new form emerged. It wasnt until 1918 that the first diet book emerged to crack the best-seller list.

These days, men and women are eager to sculpt the tight bodies designed to drive the opposite sex wild. But truthfully, the perfect human form is, indeed, fleeting. Inner beauty endures the ravages of a lifespan, so it needs the cultivation it deserves.

A romantic evening can easily begin in the kitchen, where two people prepare dinner together. After all, the evening meal should be leisurely. It should be special. It should be different from all other hours of the day.

What better way to say, I love you.

One summer, when bluish mists were rising from the wind-swept beach of that same lake, I heard the melody of a womans voice, singing what happened to be my favorite song.

I followed the song on the whispering winds and could not believe my eyes. Lianna stepped out of the past, walking barefooted along the waters edge, skipping stones on the mirrored surface. Long, flowing blond hair billowed gently around mesmerizing blue eyes.

I called out to Lianna and the woman looked at me, blinking at me with those big, cerulean eyes.

That was my mothers name, she said, Im Caitlin. How did you know mom?

I told her of a chance encounter by this very lake, twenty-one years ago. I could not believe the astonishing features that Caitlin shared with her lovely mother.

Mom died of cancer five years ago, she told me through watery eyes, and dad had a terrible time dealing with her death.

She told me about how Joshua McCord masked his loss with alcohol and ultimately met his own tragic demise as a result of his uncontrollable drinking. One never knows what the future holds.

I take it that your mother and father brought you here to the lake from Dawson? I asked.

Caitlin shook her head.

No, I found a note that mom had written a long, long time ago in her private journal about you, she said.

Me?

Caitlin nodded.

She said that she met a man who copied down some sort of recipe of hers and promised to put it into a book he was going to write. He also promised to give her an autographed copy of it. She never forgot about it, I guess.

Neither did I, Lianna. Neither did I.

I gave Caitlin a copy of Recipes for Fireside Romance.