19th September 2011 - News - Leave a Comment

Tasty Italian Release Day!

Yeee haw it’s another new Blisse book and this one is absolutely delicious I promise you.

Tasty Italian is now available from Total-E-Bound. Want to know more? Check it out:

tasty

She wanted pizza, she got love.

Fiona was bored with her life but she didn’t realise that simply deciding to visit the local Italian restaurant for dinner one night would change it forever. When she laid eyes on the fit, young Italian waiter she fell instantly in lust. Carlo returned that ardour but how could their relationship develop when he had to move back to his home in Italy?

I had great fun writing about Carlo. He’s inspired by a real, live Tasty Italian waiter who sometimes serves me when we go to my favourite Italian restaurant. I only go once a year because it’s located in Scarborough, our favourite holiday destination and this one particular waiter is worth going for alone, it’s a bonus that the food is superbly delicious. Fiona was fun to play with too, she’s sad, she’s trudging through life and she doesn’t know how to get out of the rut she’s made for herself. Then she meets Carlo.

Fiona let the words wash over her. She enjoyed just listening to someone for a change, to have a person want to tell her things. She missed small talk more than anything else since she’d broken up with Steve. “Ah, here is my Carlo now,” Roberto boomed. “Carlo, come, come look after my friend Fiona. She is a VIP, okay? Remember that as you serve her.”

“Yes, Roberto, I will take care of Fiona.” His low and rumbling voice danced across the pit of her stomach. Carlo was handsome and he sounded charming, a dangerous combination. As Fiona bid Roberto goodbye she tried really hard not to stare. He was tall and slim but not skinny. No, she was sure he had many muscles packed beneath his pure white shirt and black trousers.

His face was a picture with dark, brooding brown eyes and hair that matched, so dark it was almost black but when the light hit it she could see the intense chocolate brown in all its glory. He was smoothly shaven and his cheekbones—well, Fiona would have killed for cheekbones like his. He was dreamy. Fiona buried her head in her menu while she tried desperately to cool down the heat burning in her cheeks and in another place she thought indelicate to think about over dinner.

“Are you ready to order?” Carlo asked when he came back with her glass of water. His accent dripped gently over his words.

“Erm, yes, I’ll have the margarita pizza, please.”

“Okay, would you like anything else with that?”

A shag over the table would be nice. She smiled. “No thanks.”

“Okay, miss.” He grinned, took the menu and walked away.

She wished she was the kind of woman who could flirt. Then maybe she could get the tasty waiter to speak to her for a bit longer. She’d love to converse with him—and more—but she had never been particularly brilliant at talking to people.

He came back to her table. “Here’s your pizza. Roberto said I had to say hello to you, so here I am saying hello.”

“Hello,” she replied, “and thanks for the pizza.”

“It’s okay, it’s my job.” His cheeky smile was enough to make her melt and the sight of his tight arse when he walked away from her was enough to make her boil. She scolded herself internally as she ate. He was a university student and she was old enough to have a management position along with ten years of experience in the same workplace. Yes, it was all well and good admiring a pretty package but she had to stop at that. He was a premiership superstar and she didn’t even play in a five-a-side amateur team.

Fiona ate her pizza and watched the bustle around her. The restaurant was beginning to quiet down and as tables emptied they did not fill again. The hum of conversation softened as those preparing for a night out left. While Fiona finished her last slice, she realised she was the only person in the place. She really hadn’t realised the time when she had left work.

“Fiona, have you still room for dessert?” Roberto asked as he walked past her table and swept up her dish.

“Well, I should be going, Roberto. It’s late, you and your staff will want to get home.”

“Oh, do not be silly, if you want dessert you can have dessert. Me and Carlo will be here another hour anyway clearing up for the night. If you want something sweet you have something sweet!”

“Well, I really shouldn’t,” she said. “I need to go on a diet.”

“No!” The word exploded from Roberto’s lips with such power it knocked Fiona for six. “Oh, no, no, no, no. You are so beautiful with your roundness and your curves, do not say silly things like that. Carlo! Carlo, come and tell Fiona she is beautiful as she is, she is talking about going on a diet.”

He spoke the last words as if he were talking about a horrific criminal act. Fiona blushed bright red, a little embarrassed at causing such an outburst from such a lovely man.

“She is gorgeous just the way she is,” Carlo called from the bar at the other end of the room. “We Italian men appreciate good curves and she has good curves.”

“See,” Roberto said, “you are perfetto as you are. Now, how about that cheesecake?”

“Oh, okay,” Fiona smiled. “Just a small slice though.”

“That’s more like it.” Roberto smiled back then shouted towards the bar, “Carlo, do you want a slice of my cheesecake?” “Yes please, Roberto, I have nearly finished these glasses.”

“We shall join you for dessert,” Roberto told Fiona. “Dessert is always sweeter when shared with friends.”

Any other day and in any other place Fiona would have been miffed at the assumption that she wanted company but she couldn’t get mad at Roberto. He was being friendly and eating dessert would be easier if she had company. She wouldn’t feel as self-conscious about it. Fiona’s sweet tooth was legendary amongst her family and in the workplace. She tried desperately to eat only savoury things and fruit during the day at work as she couldn’t bear the looks and comments she got when eating her beloved chocolate and cakes.

Everyone criticised her. They assumed she was on a diet, ill or hiding her chocolate in her car. That frustrated her. She knew they were only joshing but still the insults got to her. People who didn’t have a problem with food couldn’t understand how painful teasing about that problem could feel. Everyone seemed to assume fat people were jolly and happy without understanding that underlying issues were tugging at her on a daily basis. A drunk could give up booze, but a person couldn’t stop eating, so food caused a constant struggle with herself.

Balance was something worth achieving and she was sure a week of apples and carrot sticks would balance out one slice of cheesecake. Then she saw the slice Roberto brought over.

Find out what happns next by picking up your copy of Tasty Italian today!

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