Tanya Michaels: Spicing It Up

Dear Reader,

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be somebody different—someone more exciting? I love my life, but there are days when driving my big blue minivan just doesn’t seem that glamorous.

Daydreams about spicing up my own life led to Miriam Scott, my chef heroine. Her occupation gave me a great excuse to drool over the pictures in food magazines and look up new recipes! Miriam is about to find out what it’s like to reinvent herself, with the help of sexy PR consultant, Dylan Kincaid. I hope you enjoy watching them fall in love as much as I’ve enjoyed writing for the Flipside romantic-comedy line!

I’ve been very grateful for the opportunity to share my stories with Flipside readers. And I’m happy to announce that I will soon be writing for Harlequin NEXT, the dynamic new series of women’s fiction that launches in July. For more information on my upcoming books, please visit me on the Web at: www.tanyamichaels.com.

Wishing you much love and laughter,

Tanya Michaels

“You think I could be sexy?”

“Absolutely,” Dylan said. “We just need some…appropriate wardrobe selections. Like a, er, push-up or lightly padded bra.”

“Ah.” I experienced a moment of dreamlike panic that, if I looked down, I might actually see my unample breasts shrinking. “And maybe I’ll be wearing something lowcut to display this new and improved cleavage?”

“This is simply about body lines and what presents the most photogenic form. I wasn’t stating a personal opinion, Miriam. Er, criticism. You’re…”

Of the two of us, Dylan was definitely the more “unstrung” now. “I’m sorry, I know I said meeting tonight would be a good idea, but maybe I overestimated my—” Don’t say stamina. It wasn’t a word I wanted to think about with him assessing my breasts. “Energy level. I don’t think I’m a good subject to work with right now.”

He nodded. “Perhaps I’m more knackered than I realized, as well.”

Knackered? I assumed from the context that it meant tired. Unfortunately I did know it wasn’t the effect I wanted to have on this man….

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For Jane Mims,

who shares my appreciation of good food and has always appreciated my sense of humor

Tanya Michaels has been reading books all her life, and romances have always been her favorite. She is thrilled to be writing for Harlequin—and even more thrilled that the stories she makes up now qualify as “work” and exempt her from doing the dishes after dinner. The 2001 Maggie Award-winner lives in Georgia with her two wonderful children and a loving husband whose displays of support include reminding her to quit writing and eat something. Thankfully, between her husband’s thoughtfulness and that stash of chocolate she keeps at her desk, Tanya can continue writing her books in no danger of wasting away.

For more information on Tanya, her upcoming releases and periodic giveaways, please visit her Web site at www.tanyamichaels.com.

HARLEQUIN FLIPSIDE

6—WHO NEEDS DECAF?

28—NOT QUITE AS ADVERTISED

HARLEQUIN DUETS

96—THE MAID OF DISHONOR

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

968—HERS FOR THE WEEKEND

986—SHEER DECADENCE

1008—GOING ALL THE WAY

Dear Reader,

For the past twenty months, it’s been our pleasure to bring you fun, witty and amusing stories of love gone wrong—and right!—written by some very talented authors. But all good things must come to an end, and we’re sorry to announce this will be the last month of Harlequin Flipside.

We want to thank everyone who has written to say how much they enjoy the novels, and hope you’ll continue to follow these authors’ careers—and find new lines to enjoy—through our Web site at www.eHarlequin.com.

So please pick up a few other titles, grab a latte—or tea, soda or milkshake as you prefer!—and curl up with some wonderful stories about women’s eternal quest to find the perfect man. And how she settles on the one who’s perfect for her!

Keep on reading and enjoying stories on the funny side of life.

All the best,

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Executive Editor

Wanda Ottewell

Editor

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

It’s too easy to fall into a familiar routine that eventually turns stale—whether the routine is in your kitchen, your bedroom or other areas. Sometimes, we gotta spice life up.

—from the foreword to Six Course Seduction by Chef Miriam Scott

SINCE THAT MOMENT in junior-high home ec when I first realized, “Hey, I kick ass at something,” through all the family gatherings where my sanity had been preserved by sautéing in solitude while boisterous relatives drove each other nuts elsewhere in the house, the kitchen has been my refuge. There’ve been nights on the job when I’ve actually had the urge to shuffle from the walk-in freezer to the pastry station proclaiming, “Sanctuary! Sanctuary!” But why scare the line cooks?

Tonight, I was using the after-hours serenity for a moment of private victory in the silent, stainless-steel surroundings. We’d wowed one of Charleston’s pickier restaurant critics, and the crew had all left for a round of triumphant drinks. I’d taken a rain check, claiming the need to work on a test recipe. From their winks and nudges, it was clear they’d interpreted my excuse as code for clandestine celebration with Trevor. Truthfully, while I don’t have one of those “chef’s temperaments” you hear about, I had enough ego to want to savor the accomplishment alone.

But I wasn’t alone long. “Miriam?”

Startled at the interruption, I glanced up from the pan of ginger consommé I was stirring at the stove. Trevor Baines, whom I’d expected to be working on bookkeeping for another hour, stood shadowed in the doorway. When he stepped into the light of the kitchen, I smiled at how miraculously unrumpled he was in his dark-blue dress shirt and black slacks. The handsome owner of Spicy Seas, Trevor is technically my boss but also my long-term boyfriend. He’s tossed around the description “fiancé” once or twice, but we’ve been too busy with our business plan to discuss wedding plans.

I doubted that was why he’d sought me out now, though.

“We need to talk,” he said. Despite our doing a great night’s business, his expression was medium dire with a side of pity.

In fact, his features were arranged in what I think of as his Poor Baby face, the one that secretly makes me want to smack him in the head with a spatula. Don’t get me wrong, Trevor’s a great guy, but from time to time he can be unintentionally patronizing, especially when giving bad news. As if I need to be handled delicately. He should know better than anyone how staid and dependable I am.