Friday, September 16, 2011

Welcome Friday's Guest Xavier Axelson!

Today we have a delightful blog by Xavier Axelson on a love affair with brownies. Is he trying to get on my good side or just dangle tempatation in front of me. Maybe temptation since I drooled before getting to the end!!!! Love this guy and loved the excerpt he shared.

Innocence is in the Eye of the Brownie
By Xavier Axelson

It started out innocently enough, (yes, I said innocently) when one day I came across a recipe for cookies and cream brownies. I don’t remember where or who posted or sent the link to the recipe. I’m sure they are burning in Hellfire as I write this. Anyway, I found this recipe and decided I had to make it. Any recipe where a tub of cookies and cream ice cream is on the shopping list should make one nervous. Luckily, I have nerves of steel.

You know how this goes, you are casually serving the web, something catches your eye, and you KNOW right then and there you have to make or buy whatever it is you have just seen. This is not dissimilar to love at first sight, or what I prefer to believe is really LUST at first sight. Before the angels could cry out in outrage, I was at the store and buying all the ingredients to make the demonic cookies and cream Oreo brownies. Oh, did I forget to mention the Oreo cookies? Oh yes, they are in there. Can you hear Beelzebub snickering in your ear yet? Funny, he’s always snickering in mine. But onward and upward I say and ignoring the pleas of my guardian angel (yeah right) I bought all the ingredients and hurried home to begin concocting sweet evil in my oven.

I mixed, melted, and layered until I could barely stand it and then once the brownies were in the oven I realized I would have to get them out of my house once they were done. It wouldn’t be fair to have spent the entire spring dropping lbs, working out, sweating and having to rock the Debra Winger bandana look only to have it all go down the tubes with one pan of chocolately, Fudgey, cookie badness—would it? NO! I had worked to hard. I am sadly one of those foodie wackos who will wake up in the middle of the night and stand naked in front of the fridge almond milk in one hand fork with pan of brownies in other. No bueno.

When the brownies were done I ate one, just one! Can you believe it? I hurriedly wrapped the rest up and brought them to work. Thankfully, I work just above one of the gates of Hell so everyone there is willing to indulge in naughty pleasures and not feel bad about it. There were even repeat offenders.

I thought this would conclude the brownie madness. It didn’t. In fact, after I posted this recipe on Facebook, other food enthusiasts started posting OTHER brownie recipes. There was one for “The Other Side of Fifty: Better-Than-Crack Brownies,” “Peanut butter Cup Brownies,” “Double Chocolate Espresso Brownies,” and more and more. Should I go on? Of course, you want me too. So I’ll give you a finale worth selling your first child for, (Rumpelstiltskin is my name, don’t wear it out) here goes: Cherry Cabernet Brownies. Yes, you know exactly the flavor combination, why it would work, and why you should immediately look this recipe up on Google. These are brownies for adults. You really should be over 18 to make them. When I first made and tasted them my first thought was, “these would be perfect with wine.”

I sent said cherry brownies to the set of a popular TV show and the overwhelming consensus from the star to the p.a.’s was in perfect agreement with my brilliant deduction. These were brownies to be enjoyed with booze.

I’ve learned a lot this past spring and summer. I’d like to think I learned restraint, but even as I write, I’m smiling. I’ve tasted and shared pan after pan of brownies. My FB Friends have shared recipes, links, and wishful pleas to me an each other. It has been a long summer filled with accidents, “The Incident,” interviews and narrow escapes, loves and losses, betrayals and backstabbing, (No this is not the inside cover of a Sidney Sheldon novel) But through it all there have been brownies. So I share this recipe that is not mine and that started it all. Enjoy and beware.

Here is the link:

It’s September a magical month. Keep your tigerseye and moonstone close. Check me out online where I am always finding sensual delights to delve into. Find me at or on Facebook:
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Look for new releases with both my publishers Silver Publishing and Seventh Window Publications.


Officer Michael Carmac is a small town cop whose life is turned upside down by a horrific incident that neither he, nor the community he serves can forget. While Michael’s long-time friend and partner officer Bertram Angel offers support and friendly companionship during Carmac’s ordeal, Michael soon finds his feelings for Angel turning from friendship to something more. As Michael’s thoughts of guilt and personal responsibility over the incident intensify so do his emotions for Angel and the realization that love may be the only way to heal his wounded heart.

the incident
Michael leaned towards Angel, the cold pie plate the only thing between them. Michael's heart was pounding and he could feel Angel’s breath soft on his face.
“No, it’s like right by your mouth, on the right,” Michael said.
Somewhere a night bird called out and the only reply was the incessant symphony coming from the bugs in the trees, but Michael didn’t hear anything except his own tormented thoughts clashing against his physical desires. Sweat had begun to run down his back and he shivered as he felt his spine twitch with excitement.
“Did I get it?” Angel asked, making another swipe at his face.
Michael leaned in, his hands shaking, the pie plate feeling slippery in his other hand. “Here,” he said as he pressed a shaking finger against Angel’s cheek. “Right here,” the last word was more a pant as he wiped the offending chocolate from Angel’s face.
Michael thought he saw something in Angel’s eyes when he touched him but he wasn’t sure. Although he wanted Angel more than words, he was terrified that what he thought he saw wasn’t real.
“Mikey,” Angel breathed, coming closer. He put a hand on Michael’s arm and pulled him close. “Do it, whatever you’re thinking, do it.”
“I can’t,” Michael whispered.
Angel leaned so close that their lips were just about touching. “I’ll make it easy on you.” Angel ran his tongue over Michael’s lips. “Just do it.”
Michael felt the world beginning to slide sideways, and somewhere he heard the sound of something breaking.
Was this real?
His mind screamed for him to stop, to pull away, but Angel’s smell, his breath so close was making it hard to move, to breathe, to think. Before he could answer his raging thoughts, he found himself kissing Angel.

Where to find Xavier Axelson:

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