{"id":1938,"date":"2009-07-22T11:35:37","date_gmt":"2009-07-22T16:35:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=1938"},"modified":"2009-07-22T11:35:37","modified_gmt":"2009-07-22T16:35:37","slug":"menu-for-romance-by-kaye-dacus","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=1938","title":{"rendered":"Menu for Romance by Kaye Dacus"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span> <\/strong> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n
Kaye Dacus<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

\n

Menu for Romance<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Barbour Publishing, Inc (July 1, 2009)<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>Kaye Dacus likes to say she writes \u201cinspirational romance with a sense of humor.\u201d She lives in Nashville and graduated from Seton Hill University\u2019s Master of Arts in Writing Popular Fiction program. She is an active member and former Vice President of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). Her Stand-In Groom novel took second place in the 2006 ACFW Genesis writing competition.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $10.97
\nPaperback: 320 pages
\nPublisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc (July 1, 2009)
\nLanguage: English
\nISBN-10: 160260455X
\nISBN-13: 978-1602604551<\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cHappy New Year!\u201d<\/p>\n

Her thirty-fourth New Year and still no kiss at the stroke of midnight. . .or any other day or time. Meredith Guidry stood in the doorway leading into Vue de Ciel\u2014the cavernous, sky-view event venue at the top of the tallest building in downtown Bonneterre, Louisiana\u2014and swallowed back her longing as she watched hundreds of couples kiss.<\/p>\n

A short burst of static over the earpiece startled her out of her regrets.<\/p>\n

\u201cMere, we\u2019re going to set up the coffee stations and dessert tables.\u201d The executive chef\u2019s rich, mellow voice filled her ear.<\/p>\n

She clicked the button on the side of the wireless headset. \u201cThanks, Major.\u201d Turning her gaze back to the main room, she tapped the button again. \u201cLet\u2019s slowly start bringing the houselights back up. I want us at full illumination around twelve thirty.\u201d She strolled into the ballroom, the floor now covered with shiny metallic confetti, the hundreds of guests milling about wishing each other a happy New Year. Out on the dance floor, a large group of men stood swaying, arms about shoulders, singing \u201cAuld Lang Syne\u201d at the tops of their lungs, accompanied by the jazz band.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s make sure tables are bussed.\u201d Pressing her finger to the earpiece to speak over the network made her feel like those secret service agents in the movies who were always talking into their shirt cuffs. \u201cI\u2019m seeing several tables with empty plates and glasses.\u201d<\/p>\n

She kept to the perimeter of the room, doing her best to blend in with the starlit sky beyond the glass walls, barely repressing the feeling of being the loner, the schoolgirl no one else paid any attention to. . .the woman no man ever gave a second glance.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look like a kid staring through a candy-store window, wishing you could go inside.\u201d<\/p>\n

Meredith\u2019s heart thumped at the sudden voice behind her. She turned. Major O\u2019Hara grinned his lopsided grin, his chef\u2019s coat nearly fluorescent with its pristine whiteness.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019re you holding up?\u201d He squeezed her shoulder in a brotherly way, his indigo eyes gentle.<\/p>\n

She sighed. \u201cYou know me\u2014I operate on pure adrenaline at these things no matter how little sleep I\u2019ve gotten the night before. So long as I stay busy and don\u2019t slow down, the fatigue can\u2019t catch up with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd stopping to grab a bite to eat would have meant slowing down?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n

Coldness embraced her shoulder when Major lifted his hand away. \u201cI set aside a few take-home boxes for you\u2014and Anne. I told her I\u2019d be sure to save a little of everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anne. Meredith\u2019s cousin and best friend. Her inspiration and mentor. Owner of a stellarly successful wedding- and event-planning business, Happy Endings, Inc. And friends with Major O\u2019Hara on a level Meredith could never attain.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you see George, tell him I\u2019ve been experimenting with that plum pudding recipe he gave me. I\u2019ll need his expert opinion before I can officially add it to my repertoire.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll tell him\u2014but you see him more often than I do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I guess so. I\u2019m glad we convinced Anne to fall in love with him. Finally, having another man\u2019s opinion when we\u2019re all working an event together.\u201d He winked.<\/p>\n

Meredith quickly turned her eyes toward the milling crowd so he wouldn\u2019t see how he affected her. It would only embarrass him\u2014and mortify her.<\/p>\n

He tweaked her chin. \u201cCome on. Back to work for the bosses.\u201d<\/p>\n

Over the next hour, Meredith poured herself into her work to try to keep exhaustion at bay. The last few guests meandered out just after one thirty. Meredith turned on all of the lights, their glare on the glass walls and ceiling nearly blinding her. She tasked her staff to stack chairs, pull linen from tables, and clear the room.<\/p>\n

She directed the sorting of the rented decorations and materials into different dump sites around the room. Early Tuesday morning, she would meet all of the vendors here to have their stuff carted away so the building maintenance staff could get in for a final cleaning before resetting the room for lunch service.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Guidry, are these your shoes?\u201d Halfway across the room, one of the black-and-white-clad workers held aloft a pair of strappy, spike-heeled sandals. Meredith\u2019s medium-height, pointy-toed brown pumps rubbed her feet in a couple of places after six hours\u2014but nothing like the pain those sandals would have caused.<\/p>\n

\u201cLost-and-found,\u201d she called over the music throbbing through the room\u2019s built-in PA system. Not what she would choose to listen to, but it kept the staff\u2014mostly college students\u2014happy and working at a brisk clip. That made three pairs and two stray shoes, five purses, sixteen cellular phones, and one very gaudy ruby ring\u2014and those were only the items Meredith had seen herself. Her assistant would be fielding phone calls for days.<\/p>\n

Vacuum cleaners roared to life\u2014a wonderful sound as it meant they were getting close to quitting time. A couple of guys loaded the last of the large round tables onto a cart and wheeled it down the hall to the freight elevator, followed by several more pushing tall stacks of dark blue upholstered chairs on hand trucks.<\/p>\n

Vue de Ciel expanded in all directions around her. She hugged her arms around her middle. She\u2019d survived another New Year\u2019s Eve Masked Ball\u2014and the eight hundred guests seemed to have enjoyed themselves immensely. Hopefully her parents would deem it a success.<\/p>\n

The soprano of flatware, alto of china, tenor of voices, and bass rumble of the dish sterilizers created a jubilant symphony that thrilled Major O\u2019Hara\u2019s heart.<\/p>\n

Simply from the questions the food-and-wine columnist from the Reserve had asked, the review in the morning newspaper wouldn\u2019t be good. It would be glowing.<\/p>\n

\u201cChef, stations are clean, ready for inspection.\u201d Steven LeBlanc, sous chef, wiped his hands on the towel draped over his shoulder. Though Steven\u2019s white, Nichols State University T-shirt was sweat-soaked\u2014much like Major\u2019s own University of Louisiana\u2013Bonneterre tribute\u2014the kid\u2019s blond hair still stood stiff and tall in mini-spikes all over his head.<\/p>\n

Major hadn\u2019t yet been able to find anything that would keep his own hair from going curly and flopping down onto his forehead in the heat and humidity of a working kitchen. Yet asking Steven for hair-styling tips\u2014Major grunted. He\u2019d rather slice his hand open and stick it in a vat of lemon juice.<\/p>\n

He followed Steven through the kitchen, inspecting each surface and utensil, releasing some of the staff to clock out, pointing out spots missed to others.<\/p>\n

\u201cCivilian in the kitchen,\u201d rang out from one of the line cooks.<\/p>\n

Meredith, stately and graceful, light hair set off to perfection by her brown velvet dress\u2014like strawberries served with chocolate ganache\u2014swept into the kitchen, drawing the attention of every man present. If she knew she had that effect on his crew, she would laugh her head off and call them all nuts.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m ready to release my staff, unless you need any help in here.\u201d Meredith came over and leaned against the stainless-steel counter beside him. She even smelled vaguely of strawberries and chocolate. . .or maybe that was just his imagination.<\/p>\n

He cleared his throat. \u201cI think we\u2019ve got it covered.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDishwashing station cleared, Chef!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSee?\u201d He grinned at her.<\/p>\n

She graced him with a full smile, then covered her mouth as a yawn overwhelmed her. \u201cI\u2019ll let my guys go, then.\u201d She pressed her hands to the base of her neck and rolled her head side to side. \u201cI\u2019ve got to run down to my office to get my stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t I meet you at your office, since I have to come downstairs anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be ridiculous. I\u2019ll be fine\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMere. Stop. I will come to your office to walk you to your car. You\u2019re lucky I\u2019m not insisting on driving you home myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her nutmeg eyes flickered as if she were about to argue; then her smile returned. \u201cThank you, Major. I\u2019d appreciate that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Good girl. \u201cThat wasn\u2019t too hard, was it?\u201d He limited himself to once again laying his hand on her shoulder instead of pulling her into a hug. \u201cGo on. I\u2019ll make sure all the rest get clocked out and then shut everything down for the night.\u201d<\/p>\n

Meredith nodded and departed. Major rounded up the last few stragglers and watched them run their cards through the computerized time clock. Returning their happy-New-Year wishes, he ducked into his office at the rear of the kitchen, grabbed his dry-cleaning bag along with his duffel, turned off his computer and light, and locked the door.<\/p>\n

The brass nameplate winked in the bright kitchen light. Major O\u2019hara, Executive Chef. He grimaced. What pride he\u2019d taken eight years ago when Mr. Guidry had offered him the position\u2014saving Major years of working his way up the chain of command in restaurants.<\/p>\n

He heaved the two bags over his shoulder. Meredith\u2019s parents had been better to him than he deserved, had given him the flexibility in his schedule to take care of family matters no other employer would have given. They had also given him their blessing\u2014their encouragement\u2014to strike out on his own, to open the restaurant he\u2019d dreamed of since working for Meredith\u2019s aunt in her catering company throughout high school and college. The restaurant he\u2019d already have, if it weren\u2019t for his mother.<\/p>\n

Major shut down the houselights, guilt nipping at his heels. Ma couldn\u2019t help the way she was. The mirrored elevator doors whispered shut, and he turned to stare out the glass wall overlooking downtown Bonneterre from twenty-three floors above.<\/p>\n

His descent slowed, then stopped. The doors slid open with a chime announcing his arrival on the fifth floor. Before he could turn completely around, Meredith stepped into the elevator.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long were you standing in the hall waiting for one of these doors to open?\u201d<\/p>\n

Meredith busied herself with pushing the button for the basement parking garage. \u201cNot long.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot long,\u201d he imitated the super-high pitch of her voice. \u201cYou\u2019ve never been a good liar, Mere.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine.\u201d She blew a loose wisp of hair out of her eyes. \u201cI was out there a couple of minutes. I didn\u2019t want you to have to wait for me. Happy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot in the least. But I appreciate your honesty.\u201d Due to the tenseness around her mouth, he changed the subject. \u201cYour mom invited me to drop by their New Year\u2019s open house. You going?\u201d<\/p>\n

Meredith shook her head. \u201cNo.\u201d The simple answer held a magnitude of surprise.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe said she had something she wanted to talk to me about.\u201d<\/p>\n

The porcelain skin between Meredith\u2019s brows pinched. \u201cHmm. No\u2014I don\u2019t usually go over for the open house, just for our family dinner later. Instead, I\u2019m fixing to go home, sleep for a few hours, and then head over to the new house. I\u2019m planning to get the paint stripped from all the woodwork in the living room and dining room tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn one day?\u201d Major grunted. Meredith\u2019s new house was anything but: a one-hundred-year-old craftsman bungalow everyone had tried to talk her out of buying. \u201cWouldn\u2019t you rather relax on your holiday?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut working on the house is relaxing to me. Plus, it gives me a good excuse to go off by myself all day and be assured no one\u2019s going to disturb me.\u201d<\/p>\n

The elevator doors opened to the dim, chilly underground parking garage. Major took hold of Meredith\u2019s arm and stopped her from exiting first. He stepped out, looked around, saw nothing out of the ordinary, then turned and nodded to her. \u201cLooks safe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course it\u2019s safe. You lived in New York too long.\u201d She walked out past him.<\/p>\n

\u201cMeredith, Bonneterre isn\u2019t the little town we grew up in anymore. Even before Hurricane Katrina, it was booming.\u201d He stopped her again, planted his hands on her shoulders, and turned her to face him. \u201cPlease don\u2019t ever take your safety for granted. Not even here in the garage with security guards on duty. If anything happened to you. . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Meredith blushed bright red and dropped her gaze.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, I don\u2019t mean to alarm you. But in this day and age, anything could happen.\u201d He kept hold of her a moment longer, then let go and readjusted the straps of the bags on his shoulder.<\/p>\n

Meredith released a shaky breath. \u201cSo, what are you going to do on your day off?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWatch football.\u201d He winked at her over his shoulder as he approached her Volvo SUV. The tinted windows blocked him from seeing inside. Perhaps he had lived in New York too long. But Bonneterre had changed even in the eight years he\u2019d been back. Crime rates had risen along with the population. And he would have done this for any other lady of his acquaintance, wouldn\u2019t he?<\/p>\n

He heard the lock click and opened the driver\u2019s-side door for her\u2014taking a quick peek inside just to make sure that the boogey man wasn\u2019t hiding in the backseat.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, honestly!\u201d Meredith playfully pushed him out of the way and, shaking her head, opened the back door and heaved her large, overstuffed briefcase onto the seat.<\/p>\n

Major moved out of the way for her to get in. \u201cDrive safely, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI always do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCall me when you get home. Nuh-uh. No arguments. If you don\u2019t want to call, just text message me\u2014all right?\u2014once you\u2019re in your apartment with the door locked.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, who died and made you my keeper?\u201d Meredith laughed.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t let his serious expression crack. \u201cJust call me safety obsessed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, Major Safety Obsessed.\u201d She leaned into his one-armed hug, then settled into the driver\u2019s seat. \u201cThank you for your concern. I will text you as soon as I arrive safely home, am safely in my house, with my door safely locked.\u201d<\/p>\n

He closed the car door and waved before walking over to Kirby, his beaten-up old Jeep, a few spaces down. As he figured, Meredith waited to back out until he was in with the engine started. He followed her out of downtown and waved again as they parted ways on North Street.<\/p>\n

A few fireworks flickered in the distance against the low-hanging clouds. He turned the radio on and tuned it to the Southern Gospel station. Always keyed-up after events, he sang the high-tenor part along with the Imperials. Though it had taken him a while to build the upper range of his voice\u2014having always sung baritone and bass before\u2014when he, George Laurence, Forbes Guidry, and Clay Huntoon started their own quartet, Major had been the only one who could even begin to reach some of the high notes. Sometimes it was still a strain, but he practiced by singing along with the radio as loudly as he could. . .to keep his voice conditioned.<\/p>\n

When he pulled into the condo-complex parking lot, his cell phone chimed the new text message alert. He shook his head. Of course she texted instead of calling. He pulled the phone out of the holster clipped to his belt and flipped it open to read the message:<\/p>\n

SAFELY home. : – )<\/p>\n

happy new year<\/p>\n

Mere<\/p>\n

While Kirby\u2019s engine choked itself off, Major typed out a return message:<\/p>\n

home too<\/p>\n

sweet dreams<\/p>\n

MO\u2019H<\/p>\n

The phone flashed a confirmation that the message was sent, and he holstered it. Grabbing his black duffel from the back, he left the orange dry-cleaning bag to drop off at the cleaners Tuesday.<\/p>\n

To blow off some steam and try to relax enough to fall asleep, he turned on the computer and played a few rounds of Spider Solitaire. About an hour later, his whole body aching, eyes watering from yawning every other minute, he grabbed a shower before turning in. At thirty-eight years old, he shouldn\u2019t feel this out of shape\u2014of course, if he still made time to go to the gym every day and didn\u2019t enjoy eating his own cooking as much as he did, he probably wouldn\u2019t be this out of shape. He weighed as much now as he had playing middle linebacker in college. . .except twenty years ago, it had all been muscle.<\/p>\n

But who trusted a skinny chef anyway?<\/p>\n

Thunder grumbled, and rain pattered against the window. Major kicked at the comforter that had become entangled in his legs during the night and rolled over to check the time.<\/p>\n

Eight thirty. What a perfect day to don ratty old sweats, sit in the recliner watching football on the plasma TV, and eat junk food.<\/p>\n

If he had a plasma TV. Or any junk food in the condo.<\/p>\n

Alas, though, he\u2019d promised Mrs. Guidry he would drop by. Best check the schedule of games, see which he cared least about, and make the visit then. He pulled on the ratty old sweats and an equally ratty ULB T-shirt, though. As he passed down the short hallway, he tapped the temperature lever on the thermostat up a couple of degrees to knock a little of the chill out of the air.<\/p>\n

His stomach growled in concert with the thunder outside. The tile in the kitchen sent shockwaves of cold up his legs. Shifting from foot to foot, he yanked open the dryer door, dug through the clothes in it, and found two somewhat matching socks. Sometimes having the laundry hookups here did come in handy, even though they took up more than a third of the space in the small galley kitchen.<\/p>\n

The fridge beckoned. Not much there\u2014maybe he should hit the grocery store on the way back from the Guidrys\u2019 open house.<\/p>\n

Half an hour later, with the Rose Bowl parade providing ambiance, he sank into his recliner and dug into the andouille sausage, shrimp, potato, mushroom, red pepper, onion, jack cheese, and bacon omelet spread with Creole mustard on top.<\/p>\n

Maybe he should consider making a New Year\u2019s resolution to cut back on calories this year. What was missing? Oh, yeah, the grits. He\u2019d left the bowl sitting by the stove.<\/p>\n

Halfway to the kitchen to retrieve the rest of his breakfast, the phone rang. He unplugged it from the charger as he passed by.<\/p>\n

\u201cHello?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMr. O\u2019Hara, this is Nick Sevellier at Beausoleil Pointe Center.\u201d<\/p>\n

Major stopped. So did his heart.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry to bother you on a holiday, sir, but your mother has had an episode. She\u2019s asking for you.\u201d<\/p><\/div>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/strong>
\nThe second volume of the Brides of Bonneterre series, Menu for Romance<\/a> continues where Stand-In Groom left off with the focus on event planner Meredith Guidry and chef Major O’Hara. Favorite characters from the first book make their appearance in this one as well and new ones are introduced, setting the stage for the next installment.<\/p>\n

Plot and character development are realistic with inside glimpses of what goes on behind the scenes of successful huge social events. As two of the major players who make these events happen, Meredith and Major have spent the past eight years in close contact and secretly in love with each other. Meredith finally decides to get on with her life and end her daydreams about marriage to Major and begins to date another man.<\/p>\n

Menu for Romance<\/a> is a witty, romantic tale with endearing characters. The reader will root for Meredith and Major to get together but will remain frustrated with their inability to see what is right in front of their eyes for most of the narrative. But a story that begins and ends with no conflict would be a very dull story indeed. Since a happy ending is a foregone conclusion with most romance novels, Menu for Romance<\/a> satisfies on all levels.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,39,41],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1938","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-chick-lit","category-romance"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1938","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1938"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1938\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1944,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1938\/revisions\/1944"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1938"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1938"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1938"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}