#HolidayRecipe Christmas Salad
1pkg. raspberry Jell-O dissolved in
1 c. hot water (I use the bowl that I intend to serve the salad in)
1 c. hot water (I use the bowl that I intend to serve the salad in)
Add: ½ cup cold water.
Refrigerate and allow to thicken a bit, just enough so all the fruit doesn’t settle to the bottom of the bowl.
Refrigerate and allow to thicken a bit, just enough so all the fruit doesn’t settle to the bottom of the bowl.
Fold in:
-
One orange cut in pieces (I usually use a
Mandarin orange)
-
½ cup pineapple tidbits
-
2 cups cranberry sauce (I prefer canned whole
berry sauce)
-
½ cup chopped walnuts (optional, but gives a
lovely texture and flavor)
Chill until firm.
Blurb for FIRST AND AGAIN:
Bridget
Grant is back in Paradise. Paradise, North Dakota, that is.
She’s
swallowed her pride and moved back to her hometown with her daughter after her
divorce and the loss of her catering company. Now she’s trying to navigate the
strained relationships she’d left behind – including her first love, Jack
Davison.
Jack
never forgot Bridget, or the day she left town – and him. When Bridget caters a
lunch at Jack’s tourist ranch, old flames reignite. They have more in common
than ever – Jack’s also a single parent. Though they both try to keep things
casual, Bridget, Jack and their girls are starting to look a lot like a family.
But
Bridget’s only planning to stay in Paradise until she’s saved enough to
relaunch her business. Jack’s invested too much in his ranch to leave. And with
their daughters involved both have a lot more at stake than heartbreak. How can
they risk falling in love?
Excerpt:
She climbed into the cab, slammed the door shut, then
buckled her seat belt. She smoothed the apron over her lap, suddenly feeling
stupid and regretting her decision to accept the ride. Jack probably thought
she was crazy, or at best, unbalanced. There was no way she could explain the
fear that had controlled her life the last two years.
“I have a punching bag,” he said, his eyes on the road
ahead.
“Excuse me?” she said, confused. Had she missed part of this
conversation?
“When I can’t get things or people to do what I want them to
do, or when I’m just plain pissed off, I go down into my basement and beat the
hell out of Bozo the Clown.”
She stared at his profile. “Bozo the Clown?”
“I have an old Bozo punching bag, you know, one of those
toys that’s weighted on the bottom so it keeps popping back up. Bozo takes a
licking and keeps coming back for more.”
“Oh, I see,” she said cautiously.
He turned and flashed a dazzling smile. “No, I’m not crazy.
At least no crazier than you. Everybody needs some way of getting out their
frustrations or they’ll eat you alive. Mine happens to be beating the crap out
of Bozo, and I suspect that yours is walking briskly down country roads.”
She relaxed against the seat. “Maybe.”
“Next time lose the apron. You can’t pretend you’re a
serious jogger if you’re wearing a frilly pink apron.”
“No, I suppose not.” She grinned, the weight of
embarrassment lifting from her shoulders. Jack’s quirky sense of humor had
always intrigued and delighted her. “Next time I feel the urge to take a hike
I’ll throw on some jogging pants and tell everyone I’m training for a marathon.
That ought to stop the gossiping.”
“Sorry to disillusion
you, but nothing’s likely to do that. Gossip and Paradise go together like
peanut butter and jam. Most of the time it’s harmless, but if you’re smart
you’ll try not to draw too much attention to yourself.”
“Trust me, that’s the last thing I want to do.” She untied
the apron and pulled it over her head. “Doesn’t it ever get to you? The life in
the fishbowl? Are you and your wife happy living in Paradise?”
He glanced at her, and she saw a momentary look of surprise
in his expression before he turned his attention back to his driving.
“I’m happy enough. The fishbowl thing doesn’t bother me.”
“That’s good.”
“But if you’re going to live in a small town, you’d better
get up to date on your gossip. I’ve been single the last ten years.”
The news took her by surprise. Was he single because of
divorce or because his wife had died? “Oh, I’m sorry. Celia didn’t tell me.”
She wondered why her sister hadn’t filled her in after all this time.
Jack shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
He offered no further information and she decided not to ask
any more questions. After all, she barely knew him anymore.
Bio:
Jana Richards has tried her hand at many writing projects
over the years, from magazine articles and short stories to full-length
paranormal suspense and romantic comedy. She loves to create characters with a
sense of humor, but also a serious side.
She believes there’s nothing more interesting then peeling back the
layers of a character to see what makes them tick.
When not writing up a storm, working at her day job as an Office
Administrator, or dealing with ever present mountains of laundry, Jana can be
found on the local golf course pursuing her newest hobby.
Jana lives in Western Canada with her husband and a highly
spoiled Pug/Terrier cross named Lou.
Social Media Links:
Website: http://www.janarichards.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/JanaRichards_
Email: jana.richards@hotmail.com
Buy links:
Tina
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