Showing posts with label Liz Crowe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Liz Crowe. Show all posts

Sunday, March 10, 2013

ThenTurks. The End. The Contest...



OK people, I’m gonna see who has been paying attention during my little ‘round the world book tour celebrating the e-book bundle and print anthology of THE TURKISH DELIGHTS SERIES….

I will ask you 5 questions, the answers of which can be found within the posts of the tour over the past 2 weeks. The person with the most correct and who remembers to leave me an email with the answer comment WINS:
Signed Print Copy of Turkish Delights anthology
AND
$50 Amazon gift card (you know, so you can buy all the Liz Crowe backlist—that will get you some of it!)

Here we go….ready?

1.   What is the name of the law enforcement entity that detained Your Favorite Author Liz by the side of the road in Turkey?
2.   What does “Emre” mean in Turkish (the name)?
3.   Tulips originated in Holland. True or False.
4.   What is the name of the “Hot Greek Dom?”
5.   Does Liz love lokum?

AND A BONUS….if you get all these right PLUS This one you also get a Beer Wench Tee shirt from my brewery:
Which character did I find “most compelling” in the series?

There is a list of blogs I visited on my own: www.brewingpassion.com in a post labeled: Here Come The Turks.

Go forth, find, read, and win!
If there is more than one person with all the right answers I will choose the winner at random between them via a drawing.

FIFTY BUCKS people, AND a signed copy of that book (plus a tee shirt if you get that last question right).

Thanks for reading along and be sure and let me know how you feel about my Turks after you read them in either the Amazon e-book bundle or the print version!
Hoşçakal
Liz

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Meeting The Challenge

Buy Healing Hearts HERE

by Liz Crowe
It’s New Year’s Day and we all know what THAT means….recovering from whatever overindulgences we used to get us through the holiday season by promising our bleary-eyes selves that we will be stronger, thinner, richer, more organized, swear less, sleep more, drink more water, eat more fruit….all sorts of things that will help us meet any challenge thrown at us by fate in the coming months.

Late in 2012 Decadent Publishing launched a new series of books with “the challenge” in mind. All the stories will turn on people meeting roadblocks and overcoming them, or not as the case may be.  I was asked to submit a story and am thrilled to announce the release of HEALINGHEARTS, a short novella-length story about a man who had it all, only to have it taken from him in the blink of an eye. The heart breaking journey ofa successful, typical alpha male breaking down completely when he is unable to save anyone he loves has already been named a “Top Pick” on The Romance Reviews.

The challenge of course, for Jay Longmire, is to simply breathe in and out, eat enough food to survive, fall asleep and wake up with the knowledge of what happened in front of his eyes to his entire family.  While I have personally never lost a child, given the horror at that elementary school in Connecticut just a few weeks ago, it has been on my mind—how do you wake up each morning knowing that your heart, in the form of your child, has been ripped from you for no reason whatsoever.  Exploring this sort of internal challenge intrigued me, and I remember a true story a few years back with similar elements that I have been unable to shake from my memory banks. So I put it into a book.

I wrote HEALING HEARTS this past fall, before Mr. Lanza decided that he should stare 20 children in the face and kill them, so the timing may seem inappropriate but I believe that hearts do heal—humans are nothing if not completely resilient and whether they draw on their own strengths, their faith or the love of others (as Jay finally does) the opportunities for emotional recovery are worth exploring. Which is the crux of Healing Hearts—all the anger, guilt, sleepless nights and zombie-like days Jay endures will never, ever completely disappear, but with the help of a friend who becomes much more, they will fade and become something that he can use to move forward despite the temptations to do otherwise.

I hope you enjoy it. I will warn you that there are a couple of descriptions of what happened to Jay’s family that may be disturbing, but ultimately that is not what the story is about—it’s about what happens to a man who has hit bottom so hard, he has no choice but to start climbing his way out.

Healing Hearts excerpt:
“Stop flirting with me. That’s a personal bubble violation,” he whispered, letting his lips graze her earlobe, loving how her whole body shivered against him.
“Fine, then stop pressing against me so hard I can feel how much money is in your pocket.”
“Touché.” But he gripped her closer. The candlelight flickered, the music embraced them, and she nearly brought him to his knees with her next words.
“I can’t be what you want me to be, Jay. I have goals. I need my independence. I want to make it on my own.”
He sucked in a breath, slid the hand he had on her hip around to the small of her back. He didn’t need this. But he wanted it so much he was about to explode. “I’m never going to be what you want me to be, either. Let’s just be…what we are…tonight.”
She laid her head against his chest, and he shut his eyes, trying not to let the moment overwhelm him, send him screaming into the night. Christy’s face at their wedding, at the birth of their children, and that last moment when her eyes clouded over after she told him not to blame himself while he watched her die—they all rose, clear and bright. He swallowed, leaned down into Abigail’s thick riot of dark curls, sucked in a deep breath. “What do you want me to be for you…tonight?” he asked.
She put her hand to his face, went up on her tiptoes, and met his lips, urgent and needy. He kissed her, listening to the crowd clap and catcall. Then broke away. “Well?” he asked, his body zinging.
“I want you to be the guy who takes me to bed again.” The simplicity of her words taking his breath away. “I don’t want to be made love to, not now. I need you, Jay. With me, inside me, all over me. And you need it, too. No strings, no emotion. Only physical urges met. I’m willing. Are you?”
He stepped away from her, a little shocked and a lot horny. “Give me two minutes.” Grateful the room had dimmed for the music and dancing, he dropped three hundred in cash on the table, more than enough to cover the meal, wine, and a healthy tip, and took her hand.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, giggling when he pushed her up against the side of his SUV and dove into her mouth, sweeping into it with his tongue, his hands cradling her face then buried in her hair. She molded into him, making that damn noise, the one that made him insane, down in her throat.
He broke from her, stared into her eyes. “Yes.”



Happy New Year!
Liz

Friday, July 6, 2012

Happy Release Day to Me---YOU GET THE PRIZE!



If you are already a Liz Crowe fan you know something about my books. Yes, they contain sizzling intimate moments. Sure, they have characters that sometimes aggravate you, like real people do. You love them and want to smack them at times.  Absolutely, they may not end they way you expect.

But more importantly they are set in places and situations that are outside the norm of many readers’ experience.  No cops, firemen or cowboys (not that these things are bad mind you, I just don’t write them); nary a vamp or shifter (again: see above parenthetical caveat); no royalty, kilts or spaceships grace any of my pages.  What you will find are strong, professional women in businesses like, well, beer brewing.

My newest release today is set completely in the world of brewing, and if I’m not mistaken it is a first for Decadent Publishing.  Cheeky Blonde (the name of an experimental wine barrel aged golden ale) is the story of Jennifer Baxter, part owner and marketing director of a small brewery and how she meets her match/fate in one Sean Garrison. Sean is also in the beer business but at a much higher level, as VP of Marketing for Garrison Brothers Brewing. Both breweries are in Michigan but Jen’s “Brick Street Brewing Co.” is a small operation, focusing on funky, high gravity (i.e. “high alcohol content”), sour, fruity, and generally odd-ball ales.  Garrison Bros. could be compared to Bell’s Brewing in size.  Bell’s makes “Oberon” (a fruity wheat ale) which many of you have access to as it is distributed nationally.  If you don’t know Bell’s then you could think of it as a “Sam Adams” or Boston Brewing Co. size if a bit smaller than that.

These 2 have a lot in common. But Sean is notorious, both as a lady-killer and a cut-throat marketing “savant,” to use Jen’s word.  And when she spots him eyeballing her at a National Beer Fest in Denver at a special release party for Cheeky Blonde one of her first thoughts is that she truly has nothing to say about the guy that doesn’t have “that asshole” automatically in front of his name.

Well, it gets messy on many levels as rumors fly about their “activity” at the beer fest and then when Garrison Bros tries to float a hostile takeover of Jen’s company. 

It’s a fun romp in the world of craft microbreweries.  I promise NOT to bore with you details of beer brewing but to add just enough about a very compelling and fast moving industry in the U.S.  to make you want to know more.  Jen and Sean’s story is funny, suspenseful, and full of sexy tension.  I think you’ll love it!

 Here is a taste: 
Jen spun around. Sean Garrison sat perched on a table, elbows on denim-clad knees. He leveled a stare at her. Air from the downstairs cold storage streamed across the floor between them, chilling her from the ankles up.
She stumbled back, sending a stack of empty stainless steel beer kegs clanging to the floor. Mortified, she jumped from the mess then shuddered when she sensed him close enough to touch her. Shoulders squared, she faced him and choked back the urge to reach out to the man standing within kissing distance, if only to run a fingertip along his just-rolled-out-of-bed stubbled jaw.
“Well, as I live and breathe, Sean Garrison knows who I am, and if I’m not mistaken, has stalked me down to the ladies’ room.” She pulled her hair out of its band and let it flow around her shoulders. “Should I sound an alarm?”
He chuckled, bringing chills to her entire body. She crossed her arms, trying not to clutch at her elbows and give away her anxiety. In one step, he was close enough to put his empty, still-cool glass against the skin of her arm. She flushed, irritated at her reaction to him. She was conscious of his body’s heat, the subtle hint of his cologne tinged with the familiar odors of beer. When she leaned back to look into his eyes, their bright blue depths startled her.
“Oh, um, well, I mean, thanks—you know for the earlier compliment.” She cursed herself.
His other hand traced a line down her arm. She gritted her teeth against the urge to sigh with satisfaction. Someone stomped on the floor above her head and laughter roared through the whole place, a not-so-subtle reminder that a party was going on upstairs. But at this moment, the universe had shrunk to the two of them.
“Sure,” he said, his lips once again too close for comfort. His fingers grazed her skin again, the touch zinging straight to her panties. She’d not had such a reaction to a man in years. She fought the urge to shove him away and run up the steps. Mainly because what she really wanted was for him to keep doing what he was doing.
“No need to be alarmed,” he said, suddenly backing away. “Wanted to make sure I paid my respects to the new queen of beer marketing before you left.”
“I suppose this is where I’m supposed to say something that sucks up to the emperor?”
It took her a minute to realize he was touching her. Again.



Blurb:
Violence, intrigue, and passion are brewing in the craft beer world. When bitter rivals Jennifer Baxter and Sean Garrison meet, the notorious and handsome owner of Garrison Brothers Brewing stays true to form, seducing his rival at a national brewer’s convention.
Sean arrived at the convention expecting to get down to business, including his stated goal of hiring Jen away from Brick Street Brewery. But the beautiful fellow craft beer expert provides more of a distraction than he expected.

When sabotage strikes their fellow breweries, they unite to solve the mysteries. But fate and rumors brew more than beer as love, lust, jealousy, and misunderstanding collide in a way neither could have expected or anticipated.

Can they overcome the malicious chatter long enough to explore the emotion bubbling beneath the surface? Or will lust fall flat and leave them nothing but memories of the moment that slipped away?

ANSWER THIS QUESTION IN A COMMENT AND WIN A COPY OF A LIZ BOOK FROM DECADENT!
What is Brick Street Brewing Company’s brewing focus? (i.e. what sort of beers do they brew?)

Friday, June 22, 2012

Greetings all you Decadent Types


(Yeah, I'm including myself in this group)

by Liz Crowe

I’m writing this from the road, from Gatlinburg actually. So far, it feels kind of like a Vegas in the Great Smokey Mountains sans the casinos.  I just drove through late yesterday, saw Pigeon Forge, which is sorta Gatlinburg’s Lake Tahoe I guess. There were buildings touting shows, a huge reproduction of the Titanic (!), any number of “extreme putt putt gold” options, a bunch of bunji jumping things and countless places to graze at a food trough. Then once you run that gauntlet you literally head into the mountains, curving around alongside a river and hit the much more scenic but not less kitschy town of Gatlinburg proper.

At 6 p.m. last night the place was hopping. Sidewalks choked with pedestrians and merry makers.

Why, Liz? Why are you there? Well, the interesting bit is that I lived not a hundred miles north of here from the time I was about 9 until I graduated high school, just over the border in Kentucky. In a dry country. I’ll spare you my formative drinking and partying years stories (or more likely I’ll save them for a post on my blog) over the border in Tennessee. But even though we lived within shouting distance, I never once came here. It took moving all over the world, then settling back in Michigan for me to make this trek.

For a Romance convention no less. That’s right—it’s RomFest 2012. I was greeted last night by giant boxes full of print books, book marks and such. I am to be on an author panel with the likes of Sherilyn Kenyon and Lorelei James. I get to go to a masquerade ball (Beer Wench costume came along for the ride),  a PJ party and a Mayan-themed dance this week. It’s gonna be a trip—my first one!

Pretty psyched.  But I was even more psyched to find one of those elusive “silver stars” next to The Diplomat’s Daughter on the AllRomanceebooks site! And this killer review popped up yesterday:  

The Turkish Delights series is very near and dear to my heart. My experiences in Turkey were not always so great. But many of them were. And I crafted a series around a blended American/Turkish family that more and more folks are finding to their liking. The final novella: Flower Passage-Tarkan’s Return releases Saturday. I hope you guys give the series a shot.  It’s made up of 3 1Night Stand stories (in this order: Turkish Delights/Blue Cruise/Tulip Princess), a prequel (The Diplomat’s Daughter) and that last novella (Flower Passage).  It was one of those longer story arcs that came to me fast and furious and I wrote it as fast as my muse would let me.

Have a great weekend all you Decadents out there---and get yourself some TURKS!

Liz

Friday, June 8, 2012

The Power of the Forbidden


by Liz Crowe

If you are a parent of a teenager (or several of them, like me) by now you realize how much power you have. That is to say, how much is within your power to influence your kids’ decisions. What I really mean is you grasp that your power lies in your ability to say “no” when you want a “yes;” to guide one way by steering in the opposite direction.


If you have not figured this out yet, you should.

My new release today, The Diplomat’s Daughter, The Turkish Delights Prequel, is a lot about that. My heroine, Vivian Kinkaid lived with her diplomat father in Turkey as a young girl and made a friend. Levent Deniz is the son of the servant family assigned to her father’s residence. Levent lives nearby but is at the diplomat’s house almost as much as she is. When she discovers his ability to “come and go as he pleases” running errands for his parents she sneaks out and follows him.  He discovers her and then teaches her the real meaning of “freedom” or so she thinks  by taking her with him on his various adventures through the streets of early 1960’s Istanbul. 

They are just friends. But one day, when she is eleven and he is fourteen they get caught out late “running the streets” and Levent is sent away to avoid the appearance. of impropriety. Vivian loses her one friend and soon ends up back in the States when her parents divorce.  When the book begins she is in Istanbul once more, now in her early twenties, and can’t imagine a worse place to be—under her domineering father’s wing once more. He is even more powerful as the Consulate General for the U.S. (just shy of “ambassador”—that person lives in Ankara, not Istanbul).

She’s miserable, acting out every chance she gets, and lonely. Until fate drops her old friend back in her path. He is forbidden. He knows it. She knows. He tries to fight it, but he’s newly successful, has his own construction company and is on the verge of buying a large group of companies to expand his wealth. He is still forbidden even though he tries to speak to her father, the man goes out of his way to make it more difficult for them both.

You can figure out the rest I’m sure. It could be seen as fate, or it could just be a moment in time that when Vivian reaches out for the forbidden she gets more than she bargained for. 

Buy The Diplomat's Daughter HERE

When Vivian Kincaid's eyes meet those of a hunky local at the Turkish university her father forces her to attend, it only takes her a split second to recognize her childhood friend. Levent Deniz was the servant boy who taught her to run the streets of Istanbul years before, giving outlet to her wild streak even as a child.

Now face-to-face once again as adults, the only thing standing between them and happiness is her father. The newly appointed Consul General for the United States has other plans for his only daughter. Ones that do not include a former servant, now successful entrepreneur and businessman. He will do everything in his power to keep them apart.

The Diplomat's Daughter is set in 1960s Istanbul and tells the story of pre-destiny, passion and the rebellious power of true love.


“I have to go home,” she mumbled into his shirt then glanced up at him. He smiled and brushed away her tears. “I’m really late. I’m usually home by midnight. It’s what, two in the morning? Will you walk me there?”
“The American Consulate is too far to walk from here.” His protective nature flared up. “I’ll find a taxi we can trust.”
“Okay but won’t you get in trouble, out this late with a yabanci female?” He grinned and ran a finger down her face, ending at her lips. She took the tip between her lips and sucked. He shivered, which made her grin. “I’m no angel, Levent. Never have been. You know that.”
“Yes, I do. It’s what I missed most. Well, until now.” He had to taste her once more. The sweetness of their kiss nearly made him cry like a girl. Dear Lord but this only meant trouble. There was no denying it. They could never be together. But his life would be over otherwise. He took her by the arm and led her up to the still busy street.
He tucked her behind him and whistled for a taxi, knowing no one who thought he had a woman with him out this late would stop. A small yellow cab screeched to a halt. He piled her in, finger to his lips. “Greetings, brother. Thank you ever so much for stopping. Would you mind terribly getting us back to the American Consulate? My sister is meeting her friend there. They are very good friends.”
The cabbie grumbled, but in the way of all Istanbul drivers, barely looked over his shoulder before peeling back out into traffic. Vivian kept trying to touch his leg and as much as he wanted it, he knew it would never fly inside the taxi. So he pushed her toward her door. She stuck her tongue out. But he merely nodded toward the driver, letting her know to cool it. They sat, weaving their way through the pre-dawn traffic his heart soaring as he took in her profile. Her exquisite, delicate features, long brown hair begging him to bury his hands in, full red lips swollen from his attentions. Her hands were clasped in her lap, as she stared straight ahead. Levent glanced at the driver then snuck a hand over to hers, covering them both. The heat from her skin made him bite back a groan. He kept his hand there, wondering what in the hell he could do about the fact he was head over heels for this girl again—the one girl he couldn’t have.








Saturday, December 17, 2011

You Say It’s Your Birthday?

by Liz Crowe
 

It’s my birthday too yeah.

There was a time, not that long ago when the thought of “December 17th” made me smile and wiggle in anticipation.  And I don’t mean when I was seven and anticipating a new bicycle, or 16 and anticipating a car.


I mean like just a couple of years ago when I would line up a couple of Ladies Nights Out with my peeps wherein at least one of our husbands would be called upon to rescue us from a nightclub after 2 a.m. which he would do, in exchange for the right to make fun of us for the next six months.  Not that we cared.   I’d also plan family dinners, and a couple of years in a row hosted a massive karaoke party at a cool place here in Asquared that’s set up like a “real” karaoke” bar—the kind we used to visit in Japan when we lived there.  Small and large rooms can be rented, booze and snacks can be rolled in (on the sly of course wink wink) and several hours of mayhem can ensue at the mikes.

Yeah, I’m a ham AND a karaoke mike hog, especially on my b-day. 

But last year was low key, mainly because I had just spent a mind boggling month running a bar more or less single handedly.  I was bug-eyed with exhaustion and basically ate dinner with the family at my fave restaurant and went to bed by 10.  Lame.

This year I’ve had a solid 365 days of experience handling marketing and sales for a rapidly growing craft microbrewery, had sleepless nights and frustrating days of staff issues, knock-down-drag-outs with prima donna  control freak brewers, arm wrestling matches with business partners and had two novels and 5 short stories published, 2 novellas and a series of 3 more (in a trilogy) accepted for 2012 publication.

I thought I was bug-eyed LAST year!

But the lack of sleep and near constant hum of low level, ever present stress zinging through my nerve endings has made me accept a few things. 

I am officially 45 years old today.  Yes. I said it.  Five years shy of 50.  Jesus. And I mean that in a totally “He is born today” sort of way. 

I cannot control what others think of me. I can only control the way I act around them when they are a**holes.

I cannot make people like my books or my beer.  I can only make both things as good as I know how (with a lot of very excellent editorial and prima-donna brewer assistance).

Christmas is still coming, no matter how many times I shut my eyes and ignore it.  I’m a class A procrastinator when it comes to shopping of ANY sort. But I will get it done.  I know this.

If I read one more “Dear Santa This is What All Writers Want” blog post or hear one more colleague ask me for my “ideal Christmas six pack” my skull may explode.  But hey, it’s that time of year. So it’s cool. 

Today I’m celebrating in a very special and unique way.  My spouse (who was one of the WORST when it came to “ha ha ha you girls acted like idiots when I picked you up” offenders even into June of the following year) got us tickets to see my beloved Louisville Cardinals play basketball in Louisville against Memphis in the shiny new b-ball arena downtown.  I’m also having a little pre-game beer brunch hosted by my pals the owners/brewers of the Bluegrass Brewing company AND my bestie/college roomie is joining us for the day!

Go CARDS.
Go Forth and celebrate.
Jesus Christ is born (in a few days) but I was born today.
Liz 

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Liz’s Soundtrack



There was a commercial once, for something, that was awesome. It was people walking with music in their ears—one guy had a boombox on his shoulder, some other guys had the car stereo cranked, I think it was for Sony, or maybe ITunes. Just goes to show you how much it stuck with me I guess. But the tag line:
SOUNDTRACK TO YOUR LIFE!
DID stick.


Because that’s how I live. I am never ever (ever) without music. Be in Itunes, Pandora, Sirius/XM I have it on at home (and I LOVE how my new blue ray DVD channels Pandora through the TV), in the car, at the computer, walking the Muse Dogs, driving around between soccer practices and games, there is music playing.


I bounce around but hands down my best Pandora station is “Mumford and Sons.” Not because I’m such a huge fan of this particular group. The way Pandora works is that you set up a station, add song seeds, thumbs up and thumbs down various songs and the scary thing creates what is absolutely exactly what I love to listen to 9 times out of ten. I’ve added Foo Fighters, Vampire Weekend, Cake, Marshall Mathers, Avril Lavigne and Adele to this station and now, it rocks.


I’ll scroll through a few songs that really rev my creative engine, and some that I “assigned” to my Turkish Delights trilogy.


First and foremost I LOVE THIS SONG:



I got to see His Dave-ness at the Palace at Auburn Hills and was playin’ in the mosh pit, not more than 20 feet from the man. It was one of The Best Rock Shows Evah.


For Emre and Elle’s story, the first of the Turkish Delights stories, this song kept popping up, and I think it says a lot:

The last line is so incredibly beautiful:
Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name.
Turkish Delights is a Full On Romance (with a healthy bit of steam). And this song just spoke to me while I wrote it.


Caleb, Elle’s assistant has had love, and lost it. He seeks more and does eventually find it but after a long period of intense unhappiness. When I wrote his and Tarkan’s first encounter it was one of those I had to stop and, ah, take care of some personal time for myself it was That Hot. Tarkan is Emre’s twin brother. He and Caleb shared a great love, that started with a Huge Lust.
This song, a remake of a pop song, says It All…

Uh huh. Those boys are very very hot.


Finally, when it came time to tell Lale’s story, Tarkan and Emre’s younger sister was real serious bad ass—or at least she thought so…..I have a couple of songs for this story as it’s a tad bit longer and in depth.
At first, Lale (pronounced “Lah-Lay”) is all:



And Andreas, the Greek former NFL Dom stud VERY much is looking for:





These two seemed destined … to clash.
They do.


But finally, THIS is Lale’s Theme Song:



“You’ve already won me over, in spite of me.
Don’t be alarmed if I fall
Head over feet.
Don’t be surprised if I love you
For all that you are
I couldn’t help it.
It’s all your fault.”
That is Lale and Andreas.


Turkish Delights
Blue Cruise
Tulip Princess
All part of the 1NightStand Series



Friday, November 11, 2011

Seven things no body knows about me…

by Liz Crowe

Here’s the thing about my life.  I have very few secrets.  Between blogging and promoting/marketing as The Beer Wench for my brewery and writing/promoting/blogging as Liz, I’ve revealed waaaaaaaay more than I should already. But.  The Decadent Powers That Be Ask. So.

I’m gonna find seven things that have yet to be revealed……

Ready?

Number seven:
Until I became The Beer Wench, brewery owner and marketing queen my absolute favorite go-to alcohol was a big, fat, dry Italian Chianti. The kind that costs more than $20 and does not come in a straw-wrapped bottle suitable for a candle.

Number six:
I lost my virginity in a church.  I will say no more as a story is being formed around it.

Number five:
I have seriously contemplated plastic surgery. I went so far as to have my “what don’t you like about yourself” meeting with my local version of Drs. Troy and MacNamara (sorry I LOVED THAT SHOW!).    I was literally talked out of a boob job and into a “lift” which I will embark upon in February.  Yep. I am.  My face will match my Yoga pummeled body soon.
Don’t hate me.

Number four:
I spent three hours in a mosh pit, about 15 feet from Dave Grohl at a Foo Fighter concert that I took my 2 daughters (13 and 16) and the 16 year old’s boyfriend to.  It was so stressful getting tee shirts, signing the releases for the “mosh pit liability release” that my 13-year-old held my hand up the stairs and said: “look mom!  Craft Beer!  Go get a couple before we go in!”  The Palace at Auburn Hills (Michigan) has a whole beer booth with JUST CRAFT BEER.  Awesome.  I took her advice.

Number three:
I am in favor of medical marijuana. 

Number Two:
I have been cheated on.  And forgiven.  Although it took more than a year.

Number One:
Every single day I dread waking up.  I’m not just “not a morning person.” I’m one of those whose worries and cares and dreads and all that comes with owning a small business and trying to write/promote and be the success I want to be clamp down on my opening eyes in way that makes me totally understand this from one of my fav movies of all time:



There you have it.

Lots of scary, weird and only mildly useless facts from:  Liz!
www.brewingpassion.com

Visit Liz and other 
Decadent Publishing 
authors in the 
IN BETWEEN BLOG HOP!  
November 4th - 30th.


LizCrowe.com