To celebrate Thanksgiving in the United States, we've asked some of our favorite authors to share Thanksgiving tales from their books and their favorite Thanksgiving recipes!
Now onto one of our favorite authors M NEVER with Ruined!
LONDON AND I HAVE ALTERNATED hosting Thanksgiving for the last four years, and this year
it’s my turn. The house smells amazing. I made my mother’s sweet potato pie, my
grandmother’s stuffing, and cooked a turkey big enough to feed twelve.
“Kayne!” I yell into the living room.
“Can you come in here and help me with this monstrosity of a bird you made me buy!”
Yes, the turkey was all him. He wanted leftovers . . . for a month. I swear the man eats like a
racehorse. I always joke that I need a part-time job just to pay the grocery bill.
“Coming!” He walks into the kitchen holding Layla under his arm like a football.
“Now how are you supposed to help me when your arms are full?” I joke, tapping Layla’s little
nose. She giggles. “
“Only one arm is full.” He squeezes her and she squeaks. “I still have this one.” He grabs one of
the oven mitts off the counter. “If I can bench press you with one hand, I can pull a thirty-pound
turkey out the oven.
“I don’t have a second to respond before London swoops in and slips Layla out from under
Kayne’s arm. “I’ll take her. We’ll just stand over here and watch.” She steps back behind the
“Fair enough.” Kayne grabs the other oven mitt and pulls the turkey from the oven. It looks so
perfect I almost squeal. I don’t know when I became so domestic, but seeing that beautiful
brown bird come out of the oven gives me chills.
Kayne carves it and I place it on the set table. Not two seconds after he sits down, Layla is off
her chair and climbing onto his lap. London scolds her but she insists, refusing to eat unless she
“It’s fine,” Kayne smoothes his hand over Layla’s blond hair. “She can eat wherever she wants.”
“You spoil her,” London scolds him now. Kayne just shrugs. “My house, my rules.”
I just shake my head, laughing internally. How many times have I heard that?
Everyone begins to make their plates while talking and passing and sampling. This is Becks’
first Thanksgiving, so we all get to experience his first taste of turkey. He doesn’t seem like a
fan; he just keeps throwing it on the floor.
Just as we all begin to eat, Jett raises his wine glass. “A toast.” With the fork a few inches from
his mouth, Kayne groans. “Really? Every time?”
I nudge him with my foot under the table, reminding him of his manners. Sometimes he
forgets. As much as he looks like a well-groomed adult, he can sometimes act like a surly
“Go ahead,” I encourage Jett.
“I’ll make this short and sweet.” He glares at Kayne. If there weren’t children at the table, I
know what Kayne’s choice response to that look would be. “I just wanted to thank Ellie for this
wonderful meal and say I am grateful for all the past holidays we have spent at this table and
am looking forward to many more. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” the rest of us respond.
“And very sweet,” I add.
Kayne snorts. “Wonderful. Can we eat now?”
“By all means, savage.” Jett facetiously grants permission.
Kayne scoops an oversized forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth then smiles
condescendingly at Jett. Boys.
The rest of dinner sails by with an abundance of laughter and energy. Both children the stars
of the show. Layla sings and plays with her food on Kayne’s lap while Becks keeps London busy
with smeared mashed potatoes and squished turkey.
“You know what you’re eating?” Kayne asks Layla as she pops her peas into her mouth one by
“A pea!” she enthusiastically answers, holding up the little green ball.
“Uh-huh!” She’s adamant.
“Lizard poop,” he tells her.
“Kayne!” Jett admonishes. “Do you have any idea how long it took us to get her to eat peas?
They’re the only vegetable she’ll eat!”
“Not anymore.” Kayne laughs as Layla pushes her peas around on her plate like they’re
contaminated with something.
“Are they really lizard poop, Daddy?”
“No, honey. They come out of the pod, remember? Mommy and I showed you. Uncle Kayne is
“Oh, yeah! I remember!” Her turquoise eyes shine brightly.
I won’t lie and say my heart doesn’t melt seeing Kayne with Layla, watching her happily feedhim lizard poop and him happily eating it.
And now that you may need to put something in your mouth...sooooo here's a Twice Baked Potato recipe!
- 1/3 cup half and half or 2% milk
- 6 Tbsp of butter
- 1 cup of shredded cheese
- 1/4 cup of sour cream
- 1/2 tsp kosher salt
- Bacon pieces/bacon bits
- 1/4 tsp of pepper
- Chopped green onions
- Preheat oven to 400 degrees and line a cookie sheet with aluminum foil. Scrub the potatoes under running water and dry them off.
- Pierce the potatoes with a fork or knife a couple times. Drizzle olive oil on top of each potato and rub it in. Top with some kosher salt.
- Bake for an hour in the oven.
- Let the potatoes cool or use an oven mitt to hold them while cutting the top part off.
- Use a knife and go around the inside edges of the potato then scoop it out with a spoon.
- Mash the potatoes in a bowl and add in the sour cream, half & half, butter, and the salt & pepper.
- If you want them creamier use a hand or kitchen aid mixer. Scoop them back into the potato skins then top with some cheese, bacon, and green onions.
- Bake at 375 degrees for about ten to fifteen minutes or until the cheese is melted.
- Put a dollop of sour cream on top and you’re ready to eat!
Get all of M. Never's deliciously dirty books today!
Owned (Book 1) http://amzn.to/1YppdB9
Claimed (Book 2) http://amzn.to/1Yppc0d
Ruined (book 3) http://amzn.to/1YppeVF
About The Author
M. Never resides in New York City. When she's not researching ways to tie up her characters in compromising positions, you can usually find her at the gym kicking the crap out of a punching bag, or eating at some new trendy restaurant.
She has a dependence on sushi and a fetish for boots. Fall is her favorite season.
She is surrounded by family and friends she wouldn't trade for the world and is a little in love with her readers. The more the merrier. So make sure to say hi!