Guest Author Elizabeth Finn: What She Loves, What She Hates, and What Makes Her a Total Weirdo!

Author Elizabeth Finn is here to add some spice to our Monday with some unique quirkiness that is sure to make us all nod our heads in understanding and maybe even laugh a little. and to top it all off she's also going to share a fabulous recipe I've already written down to try out this weekend.

Please help me welcome Ms. Finn to the blog!

Author Elizabeth Finn: What She Loves, What She Hates, and What Makes Her a Total Weirdo!

So I decided to humiliate myself somewhat on this blog, but since I tend to do this naturally all on my own, I’m really not too far out of my element. We all have our quirks that make us stand out from the next completely abnormal human being standing beside us, and personally I’d rather celebrate my unique weirdness than hide it. I hope you’ll join me in embracing your own quirks; they are, after all, what sets you apart from the pack.

Let’s start with the topic of phobias, and yes, I realize we all have them, but when your phobias become extreme enough to get you noticed for reasons far beyond the norm, then you gots yourself a problem baby… Take for instance my two very most embarrassing phobias:

Spiders – even though they’re no real threat to me, my brain processes the sight of their hairy little bodies as threat level one – emanate death will soon ensue. I have, in fact, gone to great lengths, nay, ridiculous lengths to avoid contact with these seemingly benign creatures. Example one: Apparently, it is not appropriate to try to jump out of a paddle boat into murky lake water just to avoid a spider while your co-paddle boaters try desperately to keep you from going overboard. Example two: Little known fact, it is also not okay to try to kick out the window of a car to avoid coming into contact with yet another eight legged monster. Finally: When your neighbors come out of their houses to your shrieking death cries because you’ve discovered a rather large wolf spider on your arm, they will not like you anymore. Trust me – I know. This is what you call a problem phobia; not just a fun-little-let’s-scare-Elizabeth-with-the-fake-spider-because-it’s-funny-phobia. Last time someone thought that would be funny, I was half-way out of my shirt before I realized it wasn’t a real spider on my shoulder! No … I’m not kidding! And I was at work!   

Airplanes – It typically takes a fairly large dose of Valium to get me on a plane, and then, I will likely still cry the entire time, dig my nails in to whatever nearby passenger happens to get too close, and if I’m really lucky, I can usually recruit some panic from other passengers. I’ve dreamt of airplanes crashing more times than I can recall – crashing in to my house, crashing in to my office, crashing in to my moving car, crashing into mountains, crashing into streets… and yes, crashing into bizarre floaty balls that for whatever reason exist in the sky in my dream world... More often than not, I’m flying these planes in my dreams, which just ain’t good for more than one reason, not the least of which is I have no idea how to fly a plane; the second of which being that I’m more apt to cover my eyes and cry than try to steer a plane – even if it’s going down. But alas, I’ve never had a dream where I’m crashing a plane whilst spiders swarm my body… so, that’s something – right?

Now for quirks, and I have to tell you, my quirks nearly always involve food… Not sure what that means but here goes! And buckle in for this one because this is quite a list.

Olives – they’re disgusting and if they touch my food, I will not eat it. So, don’t try to pick off the olives because I can smell olive juice a mile away and it is ack! Bread and butter pickles – seriously… I can’t stand even the smell of them. And speaking of smell – asparagus; I won’t touch it with a ten foot pole. I love tomatoes, but I can’t stand them on a salad unless they’re cut up in large wedges. When you cut them up too small, the tomato juice waters down your salad, and I hate the grape tomatoes too; too much skin, not enough tomato. Mushrooms – they’re fungus people!! Of course I’m not going to eat them – bleck! I love red peppers, but I won’t touch a green pepper. Water chestnuts – why? I mean really… I could accomplish the same thing if I bit into Styrofoam. Lamb and/or veal – there is no way I’m eating an animal child. Blue cheese and/or gorgonzola – it’s moldy! Sour cream – it’s soured! Pickled herring – I can’t imagine I’m the only one who thinks this was the stupidest food invention ever…

Do I sound like a lunatic yet? Well then, to make it up to you, I’m going to share my absolute favorite recipe in the world. This one is worth a small fortune in gluttonous goodness. 

Pasties (not to be confused with nipple covers – pronounced like “past” not “paste”)

What you’ll need:

Potatoes

Onion

Stew meat or cut up steak of any kind

Pie crust (store bought is fine) – allow to sit out, so they’re not cold

Salt

Pepper

Butter

Preparation:

·         Preheat oven to 325˚-350˚

·         Measurements will amount to approximately:

o   1 large potato per pasty

o   ¼ of a large onion per pasty

o   ½ lb. meat per pasty

·         Cut up Potatoes, onion and stew meat into bite size pieces according to the above measurements and how many pasties you intend to make.  Note:  One pasty will usually feed two adults – though, you might eat a whole one if you’re really hungry!

Assembly:

Use one pie crust per pasty.  You will fold the pie crust in half and seal the edges together along the outside of your pie pan – the fold of the pie crust will thus fall on the inside the pie pan.  Begin by laying out your pie crust in the pan just as you would if you were making a pie.  Add a handful of your potatoes, onion, and meat on only one half of the pie pan.  Salt and pepper to taste.  Then, add another layer of potatoes, onion and meat on the same half of the pie pan.  Salt and pepper to taste and finally add two pads of butter to the top of your ingredients.  Pull the empty side of the pie crust up and over your ingredients and seal the edges together.  It is important to create a good seal, so that the moisture won’t escape during cooking.  Use extra pie crust along the corners to patch any holes or tears in the crust.  Now you can make a second pasty on the other side of the pie tin following the same directions above. 

Baking:

·         Bake for 2 ½ to 3 hours uncovered.

EAT!

Thanks for sharing my loves, hates and total weirdness with me today! Have your own kinks, quirks, weirdness? Share it!

The Devils Pawn

Elizabeth Finn

Back of the book:

When Ashton is left orphaned after her parents are murdered, her life becomes a hell she could never have imagined. Left to fend for herself, and responsible for a debt she doesn’t owe, she is swept into a life as a gentleman’s escort at a private men’s gaming hall. Her new manager makes it abundantly clear he doesn’t appreciate her inexperience, innocence, and shyness. On the contrary, he despises everything about her.

Derek can be “difficult,” she’s been told. And however dark and handsome he may be, he terrifies her in a way that chills her to the bone, but leaves her begging to understand him. As they are pulled along together, more secrets and threats than either one could ever conceive are revealed, and a common enemy emerges. This enemy will stop at nothing to bring Derek to his knees while using Ashton as the greatest pawn in his torturous game.

Will Derek be able to let down his shield of cold, harsh emotion before it’s too late? Will he be able to sacrifice himself to save Ashton, or will they both be destroyed by the secrets of their pasts?

Enjoy An Excerpt: Once in the fitting room, Derek takes the chair again while I start to remove my clothes. I intentionally wore ugly, stretched-out, white cotton underwear that is entirely too big on me in the event he should be here. My mouth isn’t the only thing that can get me into trouble—my sarcasm knows no bounds when I’m unhappy. As he sees the appalling excuse for an undergarment, his eyes move up to mine, narrowing darkly at my obvious defiance. I look coolly back at him before looking away dismissively. My anger and resentment of him from the humiliation he subjected me to the previous morning, not to mention his treatment of me over the past two weeks, have charged me into a bold, fiery bitch that no longer cares what retribution I might face. While my tongue usually gets me in trouble, today I decided to let my underwear do the talking. Jacob enters with an armful of dresses for me to try on, and he cringes as he takes in my defiant granny panties, hated the world over by men, including, apparently, gay men. He turns to Derek, and with a scrunched-up face, he worries out loud. “The dresses aren’t going to lay right over those…” He tosses a nod in my general direction. Derek wastes no time at all reassuring Jacob and striking back at me. “No worries. Ashton was just taking them off. She won’t be wearing underwear anymore.” I glare defiantly back at him as I drop the loose fabric to the floor. He returns the glare for a moment before letting his gaze travel down my body to my sex, and as it lands there, smoldering with heat, I turn abruptly from him, intentionally showing him my backside instead. I look to the mirror in front of me, and I catch his eyes flit away from me in annoyance. He worries his lip with his thumb and index finger as he contemplates, and the slightest of smirks crosses over his mouth. Jacob is standing by looking from one to the other of us, obviously wondering just exactly what he’s gotten himself in the middle of. Derek finally looks back to Jacob. “Get on with it.” I try on one after the other of the dresses. Some are perfect; Jacob pins in additional alterations in others. Derek sits by bored, only glancing up from his cell phone occasionally. One such occasion is when Jacob remarks that I’m “just not curvy enough for this one.” Derek looks up to Jacob, but he shifts his eyes to mine before commenting, “Yes, well, if you can figure out some way of making her look female, you let me know.” Jacob again lets his eyes pass between us, seeming to wonder all the while what he’s missing. As I hold Derek’s eyes with my own, my anger falters, and the pain that is behind my fury pushes through. I try to wrangle my tears into submission, but it’s no use. In defeat, first one, and then another spills from my eyes and slides down my cheeks. Jacob regards my state and excuses himself from the room. I stand on the hemming block in the center of the room, refusing to look at Derek. But he’s looking at me, and as my hurt continues to work through my entire body, I let my tongue do what it does best. “Why do you hate me so much?” He says nothing, but stands and moves to me. Reaching around behind me, he pulls the zipper of the dress down, and then, returning his hands to my shoulders, he pulls the straps down, exposing first my small breasts, and then the rest of my naked body as it falls to the floor. He leans in to my ear and speaks. “You don’t know anything about me.” He then takes me by the hand and pulls me to stand in front of the mirror, and leaning to my ear once more as I watch him in the mirror, he speaks gently. “Lean forward and put your palms on the mirror.”

Elizabeth Finn is a contemporary erotic romance author. Visit her at ElizabethFinnFiction.com to find out more about her current and upcoming releases or email her at ElizabethFinn77@gmail.com – she’d love to hear from you!