Karen’s Killer Fixin’s
**AUTHOR SPECIAL**
with MICHEL PRINCE!

Welcome to my Friday bonus feature called Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special**!! Today, in lieu of one of my own recipes, I’m going to introduce you to a new author who will share one of her favorite recipes. Not only will you and I occasionally learn how to make something new and delicious, but we’ll get a chance to check out some wonderful authors. Introducing author, MICHEL PRINCE, and her favorite recipe: KILLER CHIP DIP!

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FIRST AND TEN
Love By The Yard Book 1
By MICHEL PRINCE

Blurb

In Chicago they say Speed Kills, or at least they have for the last seven years since the handsome running back Jerome Speed lead the Chicago Grizzlies to divisional and conference championships.

Those who know Danika Albright’s parentage assume she needs for nothing. As the daughter of a self made billionaire she shouldn’t, but her father never wanted his children to be spoiled and demanded they make their own way with little to no help from him. Using the skills she learned growing up with the privileged class she’s working her way through school as a stylist when Jerome crosses her path.

With paternity suits hitting double digits the last thing either of them wanted was to let their desires outweigh their previous attempts at relationships. Especially when one of those suits has decided she wants more than money, she wants Jerome back.

Can Danika and Jerome look past what they know to discover what really happens when you fall in love with a person that wants you and not your name?

FIRST AND TEN
Love By The Yard Book 1
By MICHEL PRINCE

EXCERPT

With a plaid black and gray suit on he walked to the three-way mirror to stand on the podium. Ramona would be by soon with accessories that he’d have to remember to keep all together.

A woman walked in and sat in the same chair he’d occupied. Not acknowledging him, she stayed focused on her phone flipping screens with a single finger. Unmanicured nail…or did it have a pale pink color to it, just not long claws like he saw on most women.

“Mr. Speed,” Ramona cooed and he swore she cut her eyes at the stranger. “I have a great mix of ties that will go perfect with that.”

A tray of ties arrived and he examined them, unsure which went with the black suit with a charcoal plaid pattern. Was he supposed to pick a bowtie or a straight one? Ramona picked a bright orange bowtie with yellow polka dots. The woman in the chair snorted.

“What’s wrong with it?” he asked, placing his hand on Ramona’s to stop her from putting it on.

“Did you ever watch WGN in the morning as a kid?”

“No, I’m not originally from Chicago.”

“Okay.” She went back to her phone and Ramona tied the bowtie to his neck. The fit was good considering the thickness of his neck.

That’s why he shopped in places like this. They carried the sizes men of his girth needed. Although he wasn’t a behemoth like the linemen, he had broad shoulders and the thick muscular structure needed to plow past defensive linemen.

Checking his reflection in the mirror, he sized up the tie he could take or leave. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t a clothes horse. His agent pushed the need for looking a certain way. He preferred a good fitting pair of jeans and a polo.

Right when he was about to say he’d take the whole outfit, socks and all, the woman’s words returned to him.

“What was on WGN in the morning?”

“It might still be on,” she sighed. “I used to watch it before school.”

“You keeping it a secret only Chi-towners can know about?”

“Bozo the Clown. You could win prizes.” She stood and shook her head at him. “I swore I could reach the last bucket in the toss game, but my dad wouldn’t let me even send a letter asking for tickets to the show.”

“You say I look like a clown?”

“If the tie fits.”

Jerome tugged at the tie only to have Ramona place her hand over his.

“It’s amazing. One of the top designers and a hundred percent silk.”

“Sixty or seventy dollars?” the woman asked.

Ramona didn’t answer.

“Eighty-five?” the woman asked with an arched eyebrow as she circled Jerome. “Let’s see. We have a polka dot tie, with a plaid suit and striped kerchief.”

Jerome cut his eyes down to see the orange and creamscile striped kerchief.

“Please say you gave him the argyle socks too,” she giggled with her hands together in prayer. “Because then there’s only like three other pattern styles in the world and he can have them all.”

Curling his toes in the shoes Ramona had picked out, Jerome now saw the idiocy of this outfit. He’d been only looking at the individual items not how they went together, but he was paying for her to dress him. Not toss the six most expensive items together.

The woman pushed Ramona to the side with a swim move he usually feared. Untying the tie, she slipped it back in the tray and stood back to examine him.

“My name is Danika Albright and I’m here to save you from Ramona’s quotas.”

She pulled a simple gray tie off the tray along with a kerchief. “Now this says class although a three button jacket would hold your body nicer. Ramona, love, will you grab this sweet man the Hugo Boss fall charcoal please.”

“Ms. Albright, he’s not one of your clients.” Ramona’s face tightened even more as she pursed her lips.

“That’s obvious.”

“He’s mine.”

“That too, is obvious. The cut on this coat is all wrong. Have you seen his shoulders? Football players are not interchangeable,” she said as her eyes scanned his body as if she were the Terminator measuring him with just a look. “Start with their position, then you understand not only their needs, but the way their bodies move.”

“So you do know who I am.” Jerome smiled.

“No clue. But you’re black, which kinda cancels out hockey. You’re too short to be effective in basketball and both baseball teams have away games today.”

“I could be a businessman.”

“You could, but they tend to make us bring this to the office and your phone has been in that chair for too long.”

“So you really don’t know who I am?”

She measured him with her eyes. Spying the length of his body.

“Maybe, outside of the uniform it’s hard for me. Helmet and all. May I?” she asked before placing her hand on his shoulder and circling him. “Corner… no…” she sighed with her eyes trained on his waist, which was soon followed by her delicate fingers. “Running back… maybe tight end. Your height is deceptive.”

“I’m only six-one,” he replied, trying to keep his focus from her fingertips, with their warm touch.

“Right on the verge.”

Ramona glared with her arms crossed.

“Are you done?” she sneered.

“Weren’t you fetching?”

About Author Michel Prince.. 

Michel Prince is an author who graduated with a bachelor degree in History and Political Science. Michel writes new adult and adult paranormal romance as well as contemporary romance.

With characters yelling “It’s my turn damn it!!!” She tries to explain to them that alas, she can only type a hundred and twenty words a minute and they will have wait their turn. She knows eventually they find their way out of her head and to her fingertips and she looks forward to sharing them with you.

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Links to Michel’s Website, Books, & Social Media:

Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
AllRomanceEbooks

http:www.MichelPrinceBooks.com
Facebook

I hope you enjoy the recipe Michel is sharing today on Karen’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy eating!

Karen

P.S. We’re at 283 recipes and counting with this posting. Hope you find some recipes you like. If this is your first visit, please check out past blogs for more Killer Fixin’s. In the right hand column menu, you can even look up past recipes by type. i.e. Desserts, Breads, Beef, Chicken, Soups, Author Specials, etc.

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KILLER CHIP DIP

2 Pats (Two 8 oz. pkg.) of Cream Cheese **
1 roll of Jimmy Dean Sausage Regular not sage, you can do hot if you like it spicy.
1 can of Rotelle tomatoes

Brown the sausage in a 2 or 3 quart pot, drain the fat. Add pats of cream cheese and tomatoes stirring constantly to avoid sticking. Use the spoon to break up the cream cheese so it melts quicker. Once all 3 ingredients are mixed together evenly remove from heat and place in bowl or crock pot to keep it warm. Serve with tortilla chips or pita bread during your favorite sporting event.

** Editorial Note: Learned something new with this one! Didn’t know a Pat was an 8 oz. package of cream cheese. Thanks for the new knowledge, Michel!

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