Sharon Ledwith's Blog, page 17

Sharon Ledwith’s Birthday Blowout Ebook Sale…

 

It’s that time again. You know. When Mr. Groundhog awakens on February 2nd to see if he can spot his shadow or not. Well, while he’s checking out to see if we’ll have an early spring or not, I’m kicking off my annual birthday celebration month by doing something a little different this year. Starting February 1st and running until February 28th, ALL my ebooks will be on sale for only 99 cents through the Mirror World Publishing online bookstore! Yup, you read that right! If you haven’t read any of my books in The Last Timekeepers young adult time travel adventure series or Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls teen psychic mystery series, please consider filling up your ereader devices with one, two, or all of my books for under six bucks. Now that’s something for readers to celebrate!

 

To make this even easier for my amazing readers, here’s the link for one-stop shopping to choose the ebooks you want. Your discount will be applied at checkout: https://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/search?q=ledwith+ebook

 

Need help choosing? Below is a list of all my ebooks including the book blurbs and covers featured at Mirror World Publishing’s online bookstore:

 

The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis (Book #1):

 

When 13-year-old Amanda Sault and her annoying classmates are caught in a food fight at school,
they're given a choice: suspension or yard duty. The decision is a no-brainer. Their two-week crash course in landscaping leads to the discovery of a weathered stone arch in the overgrown back yard. The arch isn't a forgotten lawn ornament but an ancient time portal from the lost continent of Atlantis.

Chosen by an Atlantean Magus to be Timekeepers--legendary time travelers sworn to keep history safe from the evil Belial--Amanda and her classmates are sent on an adventure of a lifetime. Can they find the young Robin Hood and his merry band of teens? If they don't, then history itself may be turned upside down.

Legend of the Timekeepers (prequel):

Lilith was a young girl with dreams and a family before the final destruction of Atlantis shattered those dreams and tore her family apart. Now refugees, Lilith and her father make their home in the Black Land. This strange, new country has no place in Lilith’s heart until a beloved high priestess introduces Lilith to her life purpose—to be a Timekeeper and keep time safe.

Summoned through the seventh arch of Atlantis by the Children of the Law of One, Lilith and her newfound friends are sent into Atlantis’s past, and given a task that will ultimately test their courage and try their faith in each other. Can the Timekeepers stop the dark magus Belial before he changes the seers’ prophecy? If they fail, then their future and the earth’s fate will be altered forever.

 

The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret (Book #2):

Fourteen year-old Jordan Jensen always considered himself a team player on and off the field, until the
second Timekeeper mission lands him in Amsterdam during World War Two. Pulled into the world of espionage, torture, and intolerance, Jordan and the rest of the Timekeepers have no choice but to do whatever they can to stay one step ahead of the Nazis in order to find and protect a mysterious book.

With the help of the Dutch Resistance, an eccentric baron, Nordic runes, and an ancient volume originating from Atlantis, Jordan must learn that it takes true teamwork, trust, and sacrifice to keep time safe from the evils of fascism. Can Jordan find the hero within to conquer the darkness surrounding the Timekeepers? If he doesn’t, then the terrible truth of what the Nazis did will never see the light of day.

 

The Last Timekeepers and the Noble Slave (Book #3):

Eleven-year-old Drake Bailey is an analytical thinker and the genius of the Timekeeper crew. However, no logic or mathematical acumen can change the color of his skin, or prepare him for this third Timekeeper mission in antebellum Georgia. To survive, Drake must learn to play the role of a plantation slave and when confronted with the brutality, hatred, and racism of the deep south, he’ll have to strategically keep one move ahead of his sadistic captors to ensure his lineage continues.

In a dark world of Voodoo, zombies, and ritualistic sacrifice, the Timekeepers must ensure a royal bloodline survives. Can Drake remove both literal and figurative chains to save both himself and a devout slave girl from a terrible fate? If he can’t summon the necessary courage, humanity could stand to lose one of its greatest leaders.

 

Lost and Found, Book One: Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls:

The Fairy Falls Animal Shelter is in trouble. Money trouble. It’s up to an old calico cat named Whiskey
—a shelter cat who has mastered the skill of observation—to find a new human pack leader so that their home will be saved. With the help of Nobel, the leader of the shelter dogs, the animals set out to use the ancient skill of telepathy to contact any human who bothers to listen to them. Unfortunately for fifteen-year-old Meagan Walsh, she hears them, loud and clear.

Forced to live with her Aunt Izzy in the safe and quiet town of Fairy Falls, Meagan is caught stealing and is sentenced to do community hours at the animal shelter where her aunt works. Realizing Meagan can hear her, Whiskey realizes that Meagan just might have the pack leader qualities necessary to save the animals. Avoiding Whiskey and the rest of shelter animals becomes impossible for Meagan, so she finally gives in and promises to help them. Meagan, along with her newfound friends, Reid Robertson and Natalie Knight, discover that someone in Fairy Falls is not only out to destroy the shelter, but the animals as well. Can Meagan convince her aunt and co-workers that the animals are in danger? If she fails, then all the animals’ voices will be silenced forever.

Blackflies and Blueberries, Book Two: Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls:

City born and bred, Hart Stewart possesses the gift of psychometry—the psychic ability to discover facts about an event or person by touching inanimate objects associated with them. Since his mother’s death, seventeen-year-old Hart has endured homelessness, and has learned ways to keep his illiteracy under wraps. He eventually learns of a great-aunt living in Fairy Falls, and decides to leave the only life he’s ever known for an uncertain future.

Diana MacGregor lives in Fairy Falls. Her mother was a victim of a senseless murder. Only Diana’s unanswered questions and her grief keeps her going, until Hart finds her mother’s lost ring and becomes a witness to her murder.

Through Hart’s psychic power, Diana gains hope for justice. Their investigation leads them into the corrupt world threatening Fairy Falls. To secure the town’s future, Hart and Diana must join forces to uncover the shocking truth, or they risk losing the true essence of Fairy Falls forever.

So, what do you think? Ready to go on an adventure with five time traveling teens or solve a mystery with a couple of psychic teens?Your reading adventures await a click away… https://mirror-world-publishing.myshopify.com/search?q=ledwith+ebook

This fantastic deal won’t last long! Plus, I can’t think of a better way to ride out the forecast that Mr. Groundhog gives us than relaxing with a good ebook, a comfortable chair, and cozy blanket. Unless you live in the southern hemisphere and get to enjoy reading by the pool or at the beach. Wink. Keep warm (or cool), and I hope you choose to escape to the past and have a blast with one of my ebooks this February! Cheers, and thank you for taking the time to celebrate my birthday month with me. I appreciate you!

Guest Post: A Shapeshifter Called Harper by Author Carol Browne...

You’re expecting to read about a shapeshifter called Harper now, I know, but it’s why this character is called Harper that is the reason for me writing this blog. The name was originally Tyler.

Tyler was the MC in a sci-fi novella entitled The Star Attraction, which I wrote in 2016. In May 2019, I was offered a contract for the book by my publisher. Said publisher closed down a few months later and that was that. Following this, I found myself dealing with a multitude of life problems, not to mention my other books and the demise of my third publisher. Hence, it was only in July 2022 that I found time to submit this book elsewhere (no verdict as yet!). Meanwhile, I am writing a sequel.

This week I saw a promo post on Facebook for a new release and, lo and behold, the male protagonist is a shapeshifter called Tyler. What are the odds? I might have been the first person to use this name in this way, but the other author got published so Tyler is damned and has morphed into Harper (which seems apt).

In this same week, a fellow author was distraught when she found that her latest manuscript, which she was about to send to her agent, has the same theme as another recently published book. I won’t reveal the theme, but it is such a novel, specific and original concept that it beggars belief that someone else came up with the very same idea. I hope she and her agent can find a way around this dilemma.

Last year I had an idea for a crime thriller, and I believed that the crime and the reason behind it was so outlandish and original that the chance of anyone else coming up with the idea was remote. More fool me. Yet another of those promo posts on Facebook was to show me the error of my ways as a concept I had deemed so unusual and unique was there for all to see in someone else’s stylish new book trailer. Meanwhile, as I toyed with the idea of an epic fantasy involving women with magic powers, I found that my story had already been given its marching orders by The Wheel of Time.

When there’s nothing new under the sun, it’s a challenge trying to create original concepts, and even more difficult to avoid accusations of plagiarism even though you had no idea that your ideas duplicated someone else’s. In the same way, it’s not possible to be aware of every book that has been, is being, or will be published. The fact that there’s no copyright on titles is a small crumb of comfort!

So, what is going on? Is it the Collective Unconscious that causes so many people to have the same ideas at the same time? How often does this happen to other authors and what do they do about it? Would any author reading this blog have changed Tyler to Harper or kept the original name? I’d love to know.

For now, my shapeshifter is called Harper. I lay claim to this in writing in the hope that there aren’t any other shapeshifters called Harper out there already! If there are and anyone has any objection to mine, speak now or forever hold your peace!

Once upon a time a little girl wrote a poem about a flower.
Impressed, her teacher pinned it to the wall and, in doing so, showed the child which path to follow.
Over the years poems and stories flowed from her pen like magic from a wizard’s wand.
She is much older now, a little wiser too, and she lives in rural Cambridgeshire, where there are many trees to hug.
But inside her still is that little girl who loved Nature and discovered the magic of words.
She hopes to live happily ever after.
Stay connected with Carol on her website and blog , Facebook , and Twitter . 

Fantasy author Carol Browne is a published author who is currently seeking an agent.

Life Biting at You? Cookbook Author Sloane Taylor Offers a Little Comfort and a Big Taste of a Hot New Cookbook for Men...

There comes a time when everyone needs a little comfort food. Lovely hot soup with fresh bread and a glass of wine always does it for me. Maybe this recipe will do it for you, too.

Cream of Asparagus Soup
Photo Courtesy of Monovareni Pixabay2 lbs. fresh asparagus
6 cups chicken stock
7 tbsp. butter
½ cup flour
3 tbsp. shallots or scallions, chopped fine
¼ cup dry sherry
2 egg yolks
¾ cup heavy cream
2 tbsp. butter, softened
White pepper to taste*

Slice off the asparagus tips and set aside. Trim off ¼ inch or so from the bottom ends of the stalks and discard. Chop the rest of the spears into ½ inch lengths.

Use a medium-sized saucepan to bring the chicken stock to a boil. Drop in the tips and lower temp to medium-low or soft boil. Cook tips until just tender, 5 – 8 minutes. Drain the stock into a bowl and spoon the tips into another one.

Melt 5 tablespoons of butter in a 4 -5 quart saucepan over moderate heat. Stir in the flour. Lower heat and cook, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes. Be careful not to let this roux brown or the soup will be bitter.

Remove pan from heat, let cool 30 seconds or so. Pour in stock. Stir constantly with a whisk to thoroughly blend the stock and roux. Return pan to moderate heat and stir until this soup base comes to a boil, thickens, and is smooth. Lower the temperature and simmer gently.

Melt 2 tablespoons of butter in a large skillet. When the foam subsides, stir in the stalks and shallots. Toss them in the butter over low heat for 4 minutes or so. You only want to soften them so don’t allow them to brown. Stir this mixture into the soup base, add sherry, and cook, stirring occasionally, for 15 minutes or until asparagus is tender.

Purée soup in a blender or food processor. Pour into a strainer set over the pot. Stir with a spoon or spatula to extract soup from the pulp. Discard pulp.

Whisk the egg yolks into the cream. Stir in 5 tablespoons of hot soup at a time until you’ve added about ¾ cup. Reverse the process and slowly whisk the now-warm mixture into the soup.**

Bring soup to a boil over medium-high heat. Boil 30 seconds, stirring constantly. Remove the pan from the heat. Stir in the softened butter 1 tablespoon at a time. Taste and season with pepper if necessary. Add the asparagus tips.

Serve from a tureen or in individual bowls.

This recipe makes 6 bowls.

*No need to buy white pepper if you don’t have it. Use black pepper only a little more as it is not as strong as white pepper.
**This may seem like extra work, but if you don’t do it the yolks and cream will curdle.
May you enjoy all the days of your life filled with good friends, laughter, and seated around a well-laden table!Sloane
Coming Soon: After two years in the making, and remaking, of over 130 finetuned recipes, Toque & Dagger Publishing are excited to announce the long-awaited men’s cookbook from kitchen maven Sloane Taylor. 

Here is a little to introduce you to this hot new cookbook that’s perfect for the King of the Kitchen and the New Guy in the Room.

Hey guys, ready to tie one on? An apron, that is…

Over 130 mouthwatering recipes to try, from soups and salads to main dishes and sides. Dessert is up to you—if you have room!

Cuisines to satisfy any craving, from comfort food to looks-fancy-but-easy-as-pie delights. Raid your own pantry and get fresh (ingredients) at the grocery.

Prep can be done in advance, but why rush? Make the prep part of the fun with your honey! (Matching aprons optional. Clothing is recommended, especially for sautéing!)

Menu suggestions provided or get adventurous and create your own unique meal—and a memory to savor.

Wine and beverage selections make you an instant pairing expert.

Bonus: Tips/tricks that will make everyone think you’re a kitchen genius.

Extra bonus: Sloane’s secret recipe for Super Bowl Chili!

All recipes are indexed so you can find what you need in a snap.

And come on, who doesn’t like sausage? (For breakfast! What were you thinking?)

Lunch, dinner—or breakfast the next morning, Sloane has you covered! Because the best times always start in the kitchen.

Sloane Taylor is an Award-Winning author with a second passion in her life. She is an avid cook and posts new recipes on her blog every Wednesday. The recipes are user friendly, meaning easy.
To learn more about Taylor go to her website  Stay in touch on Blogger ,  Twitter , and LinkedIn .

Taylor's cookbooks, Date Night Dinners, Date Night Dinners Italian Style, Sizzling Summer, and Recipes to Create Holidays Extraordinaire are released by Toque & Dagger Publishing and available at all book vendors.

How I Got My Agent by YA Paranormal Author Leigh Goff...

Query Tracker was my go-to for the initial search for a literary agent that represented young adult fiction. I read through Lauren Bittrich’s information, visited her agency’s website, and did more research. With her editorial background and interest in YA, she seemed like a great fit for my new manuscript, WICKED SWEET. I sent her my query letter with the required first twenty-five pages attached. She replied two days later that she loved the sample pages and would be thrilled to read the full manuscript.

It’s easy to say I had a feeling she was the one, but I did. And fortunately for me, the stars were aligning. I immediately sent the full manuscript to her. Two days later, she sent another email requesting a meeting via Google Meet! I cried for ten crazy, happy minutes. After I composed myself, I did an internet search for what to do when you get the email for The Call.

Oh gosh, shouldn’t have done that. All of sudden there were posts and articles from other literary agents saying that just because an agent requests a meeting/phone call, it doesn’t mean she is going to make an offer. She might want the author to revise and resubmit. Was that really a possibility?

I deflated a bit, but my instincts kept telling me to get ready and I was optimistic. I wrote down a few questions I wanted to ask her and on the day of The Call, I had to calm my nerves. As the meeting started, my voice was a bit shaky answering her questions. But when the meeting neared the end, my nervousness had been replaced with excitement. She was fantastic and I wanted to work with her.

However, I still had other agents with my manuscript. I asked Lauren for ten days to get back to her and then I notified the other agents of the offer. After some back and forth with those ladies, I knew who I wanted to work with. It was Lauren. Day ten arrived. We emailed each other that morning and a few hours later, my representation was official.

For anyone interested, here is my query letter for Wicked Sweet.

Dear (Agent’s Name):

WICKED SWEET is a YA contemporary with magical elements that will appeal to fans of Alice Hoffman's Practical Magic and Heather Webber's Midnight at the Blackbird Cafe. It is complete at 90,000 words.

New school. New town. New chance to fit in. There's nothing to connect sixteen-year-old Abigail to her family's witch history except Abigail, and in her remote Southern town where supernatural fears run high, an empathic talent and a girl-on-girl kiss are enough to let suspicions wreak havoc on her life.

As Abigail delves into a forbidden romance, she also finds herself irresistibly drawn to the local tale of a sixteen-year-old witch burned at the stake centuries earlier. Danger begins to find Abigail who's discovering the witch's story has dangerous parallels to her own, especially when an enemy is watching, waiting to toss a match. Together with her coven of diverse misfits who host wicked séances and haunted bonfires, they must overcome frenemies, small town fears, and uncover the deadly lies being hidden by a prominent anti-LGBT family in Whispering Point before history repeats itself. 

I am the author of three YA novels, KOUSH HOLLOW (The Parliament House, 2020), BEWITCHING HANNAH (Mirror World Publishing, 2017), DISENCHANTED (Mirror World Publishing, 2015). I am a member of SCBWI and I have my bachelor's degree from the University of Maryland. I am also descended from an accused witch from seventeenth century Virginia. 

Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to your response.

Sincerely,

Leigh Goff

(add your website)

Here's a glimpse at my first three novels. I hope they intrigue you.

DISENCHANTED

Sixteen-year-old Sophie Goodchild from the wickedly wonderful town of Wethersfield, Connecticut struggles with her magic as she finds forbidden love along with a centuries-old true love curse. Here are a few spells, some spoken in Latin, from Disenchanted.

 

“Ictus.” Sophie hopes for a windstorm when she encounters a boy who should be her family enemy, but she’s love struck and only flower petals rain down on her and Alexavier.

 

“Verum.” Sophie casts this spell on the boy she thinks she must hate, but instead of him speaking the truth, a heart shape appears in the bark of a mulberry tree trunk behind him. The tree is significant in this story as it is in Pyramus and Thisbe. They are the ill-fated couple, like Romeo and Juliet, and they planned to meet under a mulberry tree.

 

“Semper memoriam tui delebo Diamond”- She commands Judge Mather to forget about the rare red diamond used as a blood charm that has caused so much trouble.

BEWITCHING HANNAH

When an ancient prophecy reveals the rise of a young, powerful Chesapeake witch and the impending death of another, sixteen-year-old Hannah Fitzgerald realizes she can no longer repress the magic that has taken away so much. There’s also the Grey witch’s Arundell Curse plaguing Hannah and her mysterious love interest, W.

 

“By the power of fire, I do summon and churn, and call thee forth to blaze and burn.” Hannah casts this spell, needing heat from her hands to burn through a seatbelt when she’s trapped in a fiery wreck.

 

Her frenemy, Arora, demonstrates her dark magic when she captures an insect and kills it with this spell, “By my command and desire, your pesky little death I require.”

 

The nefarious Emme using magic to fight with Hannah says, “For the trouble you have inflicted on me, double shall I inflict on you.” She snaps Hannah’s icy doppleganger statue in half and Hannah doubles over in agony.

KOUSH HOLLOW

As Jenna Ashby, the sixteen-year-old eco-warrior, is introduced to the Diamonds & Pearls, her mother’s exclusive New Orleans social club, she comes to the troubling realization that secrets are a way of life in Koush Hollow. She’s also cursed with her cold, narcissistic mother, Rayna, who’s ambitions are limitless.

 

In the excerpt below, Jenna is drawn to Voodoo priestess, Mama Ismay. She watches her create a mystical potion using bayou magic, but then Jenna is left with more questions than answers when she sees what’s in the mysterious aquarium.

AMAZON BUY LINKS Koush Hollow Bewitching Hannah Disenchanted
Leigh Goff loves writing young adult fiction with elements of magic and romance because it's also what she liked to read. Born and raised on the East Coast, she now lives in Maryland where she enjoys the area's great history and culture.

Leigh is a graduate of the University of Maryland, University College and a member of the Maryland Writers' Association and Romance Writers of America. She is also an approved artist with the Maryland State Arts Council. Her debut novel, Disenchanted, was inspired by the Wethersfield witches of Connecticut and was released by Mirror World Publishing. Leigh is currently working on her next novel, The Witch's Ring which is set in Annapolis.

Learn more about Leigh Goff on her website and blog . Stay connected on Facebook , Instagram , Pinterest , and Goodreads .

Getting Back to Life with Author Emma Lane's Quick and Easy Mac and Cheese Casserole and Cozy Mystery Read...

Busy days we look for easy but tasty quick main dishes. This is a family recipe that is sure to please both parents and kids (or grandchildren). The young ones will love the mac & cheese and barely notice they are eating veggies. Easy to add side dishes to round out the meal without much fussing. Serve ice cream for dessert.

Quick & Easy Mac and Cheese Casserole 
1 small onion, chopped1 small carrot, grated⅓ cup frozen green peas ½ lb. ground beef1 box mac & cheese½ can cream of chicken soup

Melt butter in a frying pan. When the foam subsides, sauté onion, carrot, and peas until onion is translucent. Spoon mixture into a microwaveable dish. 

Use the same pan to fry ground beef until browned. Be sure to break meat into small pieces. Drain fat. 

Cook mac & cheese per package directions. 

Combine meat, mac & cheese with vegetables. Stir soup gently into mixture. (Save other half of soup for eggs next morning.) 

Warm casserole in microwave oven for two minutes or until steaming. Serve with green salad. 

This casserole dish may be prepared the day before and refrigerated for easy warm-up. 

Here are some tasty side options we enjoy with the casserole:

Pear SaladApple slices dotted with yogurt or sour creamApple sauce with cinnamonSliced melonGreen grapes   

I invite you to take a peek at one of my cozy mysteries under my pseudo name Janis Lane. I hope you like it.

A blizzard blows in big-city crimes which spill into the peaceful small town of Hubbard, New York, catching the attention of Detective Kevin Fowler and staff. What unusual acts engage the Secret Service with the local cops? A young man is found badly beaten in the heated greenhouse of the Young Family Plant Nursery. Early spring melt reveals a sinister vehicle with a deadly cargo, even as the master of the greenhouse welcomes part-time alumni.

Romance swirls, tumbles, and produces surprising changes among the group of friends at Buddy and Rita’s diner. Beverly hires a young, ambitious reporter to work at the growing newspaper and starts a new adventure of her own, while Kevin watches over the townspeople of Hubbard. The mystery of a toxic skunk is finally routed by troublesome out-of-towners. An unexpected wedding shocks everyone but the Young Family. Spring has arrived and May is in full bloom in the Western New York small-town Americana, as another beautiful bride walks toward the flower-laded bower under the approving eyes of a group of fond friends.

AMAZON BUY LINK

Emma Lane is a gifted author who writes cozy mysteries as Janis Lane, Regency as Emma, and spice as Sunny Lane. 

She lives in Western New York where winter is snowy, spring arrives with rave reviews, summer days are long and velvet, and fall leaves are riotous in color. At long last she enjoys the perfect bow window for her desk where she is treated to a year-round panoramic view of nature. Her computer opens up a fourth fascinating window to the world. Her patient husband is always available to help with a plot twist and encourage Emma to never quit. Her day job is working with flowers at Herbtique and Plant Nursery, the nursery she and her son own. 

Look for information about writing and plants on Emma's new website. Leave a comment or a gardening question and put a smile on Emma's face.

Stay connected to Emma on Facebook and Twitter . Be sure to check out the things that make Emma smile on Pinterest .

Dedications: The Gifts Authors Give…

Have you ever been gifted with a book dedication? You know what I mean. The small blurb at the beginning of every book that the author has decided to dedicate their entire book to? Trust me, it’s no small feat to choose the reader, friend or family member to immortalize on the pages of an author’s novel. In fact, it’s tough. Don’t mention you-know-who and his or hers nose gets out of joint. The hackles go up and it is fodder for every family holiday or get-together around the dinner table. Ugh. It takes a lot of thought and soul searching to pick the right person (or people—hey even pets) to share the author’s ink. Where am I going with this? Keep reading…

Imagine my surprise—no my shock—when my publisher dropped by to deliver her latest book, Uncommon at my doorstep. Back story: I adore Justine Alley Dowsett and Murandy Damodred’s Ismera fantasy romance series, and when the third installment of their series hit the shelves this fall, I told them to snag me a signed copy. So they did. When I opened the book, my jaw dropped, and I blinked over and over again, as I read…

‘For Sharon, Because you love this world almost as much as we do, even when we are sometimes cruel to your favourite character’.

I promptly closed my mouth, and stared at Justine. “Really?” I asked her point blank. “This is the best gift!” She blushed of course, as authors do, then smiled and nodded. I rushed in for the huge hug. Doing something as thoughtful as dedicating your book to someone special raises your vibration so high, it’s hard to get grounded. I finally did fall back to earth, and thanked Justine profusely. When she left to go do other publishing duties, I checked the acknowledgements, and for the second time that day, my jaw dropped. I was also mentioned in the book’s acknowledgement section too. Wow. Just wow. Up went my vibration again, as I tingled all over. My day had been made all that sweeter.

I know many of you may find this article lackluster, but it’s anything but dull. A book dedication is a BIG deal to a reader. So authors, in the future when you’re ready to figure out who to dedicate your book to or write up the acknowledgements, give it some serious thought. You may bring a wallop of sunshine into someone’s life in an unexpected way. And that’s not nothing.

Speaking of unexpected, I’ve been diligently working on the third installment of Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls. I’m not sure if I’m going to have it ready for publication in 2023 or 2024, but I thought I’d whet your appetite and share an excerpt with you. Hope it piques your interest!

Excerpt from Sticks and Stones:

“This isn’t fair! Life sucks!”

“If you think life sucks now, wait until you start shaving.”

Thane Berg knitted his fair brows and looked up at his so-calledfather; a man who had been a stranger to him for so long it was hard to tell whether they were from the same gene pool. Thane’s eyes were light blue. His father’s were dark brown. His skin was fair and freckled. His father’s was tan and rough. His hair was strawberry and straight. His father’s was curly and brown. Thane sighed. Nope. No resemblance, no mirror, no match. In Thane’s mind, this man was not his father.

Even Philip Berg’s attire couldn’t be more opposite. His plumber’s overalls—stained with the day’s work—clung to Phil like used toilet paper. Thane cringed and tugged at his red and white striped polo-style shirt, hoping Phil had at least washed his hands before preparing tonight’s supper. His nose wrinkled. He looked down at his bowl of mystery meat stew, and mashed what looked like potatoes and peas with his spoon, hoping to bring out some flavor.

“I started shaving last year,” Thane mumbled.

“Last year?” Phil laughed. “Didn’t you just turn fourteen in June?”

Thane banged the table with the palm of his hand. “Well maybe if you’d stayed straight instead of turning gay like you decided to five years ago, you’d know a hell of a lot more about what was going on in my life!”

Phil Berg winced as if he’d been stung by a swarm of wasps. He dropped his coffee cup, and it shattered across the hardwood flooring, sending ceramic bits rolling every-which-way.

A dog howled from outside the kitchen door. Thane jerked.

Phil rubbed his stubbly face and raked his curly hair. He slowly moved toward the side door, skirting around the bits of broken cup, and opened it. Even from his seat at the table, Thane could see the dog’s tail whipping wildly back and forth, back and forth, as if he had downed four tall energy drinks. The husky mix had been recently adopted from the Fairy Falls Animal Shelter as a present for him. Thane snorted. That was another thing his father didn’t know about him. He hated dogs. All dogs, but especially big dogs.

“Come here, Nobel, good boy.” Phil reached out to unlatch the dog’s rope from his collar, then stroked his big head.

Nobel whined, yipped, and ran straight to his food bowl. He wolfed it down as if it were his last meal.

“I want to go home, Phil,” Thane demanded, mashing his stew.

“You are home. And I’m Dad to you, not Phil.”

His voice was hard, unmoving, like he meant it.

Thane slouched. “Fairy Falls isn’t my home, it’s yours! Windsor is where I belong! If…if mom didn’t go on that stupid trip—”

“Your mother deserves that job promotion,” Phil cut in. “Writing is her passion, and when this opportunity from the newspaper came up for her, I advised her to take it. I told her it would give you and I some much needed time together.”

“Time together? I’m stuck here for a freaking year because of you! Did you even think of asking me?”

“Since I am your father, and I am still responsible for you, I didn’t see the point.”

Then, as Phil knelt down to pick up the fragments of his white mug, a sudden rage ambushed Thane. An electric jolt pierced through his body, and as he stared at this wanna-be dad, this out-of-the-closet, out-of-his-life misfit of a man, a stab of anger overrode his senses and infected his mind. Startled from this alien feeling, Thane inhaled fiercely, and as he did, a piece of porcelain flew up and punctured Phil’s right thumb.

“Oww! Son-of-a—” Phil started to curse, then stopped. Wincing, he dug the shard out and tossed it into the trash bin underneath the sink.

Shaken, Thane reached over and grabbed his can of orange pop. He guzzled it down in one gulp. Did what just happen, actually happen? Did I do that to Phil? Did I make that piece of cup move? Thane let out a loud, laborious belch. Hot gas bubbles burst in his nostrils and he cringed at the sensation.

His father scowled at him. “Don’t you have something to say?”

Thane pursed his lips. “I don’t see the point.”

Phil’s dark eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

Thane belched again. This one was slightly longer. “There. Excuse me.”

Phil shook his head. “I guess me and you are related after all.”

Thane’s face fell. “Huh?”

Phil grinned, turned around, and let thunder rip out of his back end. He waved his hand in the air. “Whew! That’s one that’ll make your eyes water!”

Thane smirked. “Don’t you have something to say?”

“How about, ‘I’ve missed you?’” a man blurted from behind Thane.

Thane jumped. He twisted in his seat to find a tall man leaning against the pine door frame. He was bulkier than his father, but just as tanned. His head was clean shaven, and his eyes were a shade of leafy green. He wore a uniform of a sort—a sky blue shirt with a company name stitched on it, and a pair of dark jeans. Thane squinted to read what was embroidered on his shirt. Cormack’s Crappers and Sanitation Service, he read. Thane rolled his eyes. Nice. Classy. Fairy Falls is looking better and better.

“Carter!” Phil opened his arms. “Of course I’ve missed you!”

Carter grinned and strode toward Thane’s father. Nobel barked, then growled. His ears went back, his hackles rose, his tail dropped. He looked like he was ready for a fight.

Carter backed off. “Whoa, where’d you get the mutt?”

“Nobel’s from the Animal Shelter. Meagan, a girl who works there, says he’s loyal and loves kids, so I figured he’d be a good match for Thane.”

“Nobel, eh? With a name like that you’d think he’d be pure bred. What is he? Husky? Doberman? Shepherd?”

Phil laughed. “All of the above I suppose, and maybe more. Whatever he is, he seems okay with it.”

Thane stared at Nobel for a few moments. His mix of brown, grey, and black fur had relaxed somewhat and his ears moved forward. He sniffed, whined, then looked directly at him. The dog’s light blue gaze struck Thane, penetrated him as if he were sitting on the chair completely naked. He shuddered as Nobel let out a yip and sauntered slowly over to him. His wet, cool nose poked Thane under the arm. He licked his elbow. Thane shuddered again. Maybe if I ignore the dog he’ll go lay down.

“Well, at least the dog seems to like Thane,” Carter said. He held out his hand and walked toward the kitchen table. “Hey, Thane, I’m Carter Cormack, your father’s—”

“Whatever,” Thane cut in, attempting to suppress his feelings, his voice, his emotions. “Don’t care. Don’t want to know the details.”

Nobel growled again. Carter withdrew his hand and backed off.

“Thane, that’s rude!” Phil shouted, wagging his finger.

Thane shrugged. “At least I didn’t growl at him.”

Nobel wagged his tail. He nudged Thane again, but he pushed the dog away.

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal, Phil. Thane just needs to get used to the idea of us, that’s all,” Carter said, winking at Thane’s father.

Intense heat flushed through Thane’s body. “Fine. Get used to this!” He hurled his bowl of stew at Cormack.

Splat! The stew hit the front of Carter’s uniform and rolled down the length of his pants to land on a pair of polished cowboy boots. The bowl, however, hit his prominent chin and rolled into the next room. Nobel barked. He bolted for the stew casualties strewn across the length of the floor.

“Thane!” Phil’s face reddened. “How dare you!”

Carter held up a hand. “Don’t, Phil! I’m fine. Your son needs time. It’s a big adjustment for him. I’ll let myself out. Call me later.”

Thane frowned, as Carter Cormack wiped any remnants of stew stuck to his shirt before he slowly backed out of the kitchen, with one eye on Nobel, and the other on Thane. He heard his father mutter something obscene before he went off after the man who—in Thane’s mind— was public enemy number one.

Thane strangled the spoon still in his hand. Thoughts of his father and Cormack embracing out of his sight, making up like couples do, entered his mind. His mother was supposed to be in his father’s arms, not this other man, this stranger, this home-wrecker. But no. The fantasy was gone. This was Thane’s reality. A broken reality.

Suddenly, that odd sensation returned inside him. Engulfing him, enraging him. Sweat blistered through his skin and ran down his face. What only could be described as an electric shot flowed through him again, making his hand shake and teeth rattle. Nobel whined and Thane glanced down at his hand. The spoon he was still holding bent backward in front of his eyes, almost melting in his grasp. Freaked, he threw it down on the table and pushed away. He stood, wiped his face roughly with the cloth napkin, and then dropped it on the floor. He knew he hadn’t imagined it. He couldn’t have. The evidence was laying on the table—bent, distorted, out of shape.

His stomach churned. What’s happening to me?

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Carter!” Thane heard his dad yell from outside.

Panicking, Thane lunged for the spoon and stared at it. As heavy footsteps entered the kitchen, Thane twirled around and hid the twisted spoon behind his back. His breathing steadied as his dad leaned into the door frame much as Cormack had earlier. He crossed his muscled arms over his big chest and stared at Thane. His face was stone, his jaw set. It was the perfect poker face if they’d been playing cards. But this was far from a card game, and Thane badly needed an ace up his sleeve.

Phil raised a dark brow. “What are you hiding behind your back?”

“Nothing,” Thane lied.

“If it’s nothing then show me.”

Thane twisted his lips. “No. I’m good.”

Phil sighed. “Well, I’m not. Look, Thane, at some point this year, you’re going to have to learn to trust me. I’m your father, and I love you despite what your opinion of my lifestyle is, which by the way is not a choice. I am who I am. I stand in my truth. My only hope is that someday you’ll come to understand this, and stand in your own truth.”

Thane bit down on his bottom lip. His father didn’t sound as mad as Thane thought he would be. In fact, he appeared quite calm despite what had occurred. A sudden jolt ran through him. The feeling wasn’t as intense as the last two times. It seemed different. Peaceful. Serene. True.

“Well?”

Roused from his thoughts, Thane stared at his father. “Well what?”

“What are you hiding behind your back?”

Thane shrugged. If he wasn’t going to get into trouble throwing stew at Cormack, then it was a sure bet he wouldn’t get into trouble for a bent spoon. He would just have to come up with a good fib on how he bent it.

Ideas rolled around in his head. Maybe I can somehow blame Nobel?

“Thane?”

Jolted, Thane jumped, and swung his hand around to reveal the spoon.

“You were hiding...a spoon?”

Thane stared at the spoon too, his eyes wide.

It was straight. Back to normal. Perfect.

If you’ve never read my teen psychic mystery series, below are the books and links that are available for purchase so far:

Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mystery Series:

Lost and Found, Book One Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE׀

Blackflies and Blueberries, Book Two Buy Links:

MIRROR WORLD PUBLISHING ׀ AMAZON ׀ BARNES & NOBLE׀

Thanks for stopping by to celebrate the first post of 2023! Authors, do you give a lot of thought when choosing who to dedicate your book to? Readers, have you ever had an author dedicate one of their books to you? If so, how did you respond? Would love to read your comments. Cheers and thanks for taking the time to read my blog. I appreciate you!

Ring in the New Year Russian Style with Author Stella May...

This is a traditional New Year’s dish for any person who was born or grew up in former USSR. To this day, not a single celebration goes without it.

The name of this salad in Russia is Сajiat ОЛИВЬЕ. For all the former republics that once upon a time were part of the USSR, this salad became a synonym for a New Year. It brings many of us a lot of bitter-sweet memories. 

There are many variations to Olivier Salad. The recipe below is how my family made it, and how I still make it every year on December 31st. 

OLIVIER SALAD
5 large eggs
2 large Russet potatoes
2 carrots1 can green peas2-3 pickled cucumbers, traditional Vlasic is best
1 English cucumber
½ cup fresh dill, chopped fine½ cup green onion, chopped or 1 small sweet onion½ cup mayo, maybe a little less½ cup sour cream, maybe a little less1 cup cubed chicken breast or boiled meat, optional2 pinches saltPepper to taste

Boil eggs, potatoes, and carrots in the same pan. Drain and then set aside pan to cool. 

Cube all ingredients, combine them in the large bowl, mix gently. Add combination of mayo and sour cream. Some people use only mayo, others only sour cream. You decide which works best for you. You may want to use more or less mayo/sour cream mixture, depending on your taste. 

Stir in salt and pepper and fresh dill. Cover with plastic wrap and then chill until you’re ready to serve. 

Happy New Year! 

Stella

Here is a peek at Stella’s time travel romance for your reading pleasure. It also makes a wonderful holiday gift.

One key unlocks the love of a lifetime…but could also break her heart.  

Nika Morris’s sixth sense has helped build a successful business, lovingly restoring and reselling historic homes on Florida’s Amelia Island. But there’s one forlorn, neglected relic that’s pulled at her from the moment she saw it. The century-old Coleman house.  

Quite unexpectedly, the house is handed to her on a silver platter—along with a mysterious letter, postmarked 1909, yet addressed personally to Nika. Its cryptic message: Find the key. You know where it is. Hurry, for goodness sake! 

The message triggers an irresistible drive to find that key. When she does, one twist in an old grandfather clock throws her back in time, straight into the arms of deliciously, devilishly handsome Elijah Coleman. 

Swept up in a journey of a lifetime, Nika finds herself falling in love with Eli—and with the family and friends that inhabit a time not even her vivid imagination could have conjured. But in one desperate moment of homesickness, she makes a decision that will not only alter the course of more than one life, but break her heart. 

’Til Time Do Us Partis available in Kindle and Paperback at AMAZON. 

Talented author Stella May is the penname for Marina Sardarova who has a fascinating history you should read on her website. 
Stella writes fantasy romance as well as time travel romance. She is the author of 'Till Time Do Us Part, Book 1 in her Upon a Time series, and the stand-alone book Rhapsody in Dreams. Love and family are two cornerstones of her stories and life. Stella’s books are available in e-book and paperback through all major vendors.
When not writing, Stella enjoys classical music, reading, and long walks along the ocean. She lives in Jacksonville, Florida with her husband Leo of 35 years and their son George. They are her two best friends and are all partners in their family business.

Follow Stella on her website and blog Stay connected on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

Have a Dickens of a Holiday by Author C.D. Hersh...

We found a free, fun, fanciful and fantastic book Holiday Romance by Charles Dickens. 

While surfing the Kindle bookstore for romance book freebies we came across a book by Charles Dickens entitled, Holiday Romance, which has been recently put into e-book format. Romance by Dickens? The title had our attention and we downloaded it.

We haven’t read much Dickens since high school where the obligatory Tale of Two Cities and David Copperfield with its flowery language was enough to stifle any desire to read more. Oh, we enjoy A Christmas Carol and the many rewrites and adaptations, but, as a general rule, we have no burning desire to drown ourselves in Dickens’ classic works. That all changed with the reading of the opening line in the second paragraph of the book.

“Nettie Ashford is my bride. We were married in the right-hand closet in the corner of the dancing-school, where first we met, with a ring (a green one) from Wilkingwater’s toy shop. I owed for it out of my pocket money.”

He had us with that line. We wanted to know more about the closet romance between this couple. The subsequent quick reading of book did not disappoint, not because it’s a romance in the fashion of the genre today.

The book is written from the viewpoint of four children, ages six and a half to nine and has four parts. The first part, The Trial of William Tinkley, is an adventure in which the children marry one another. The Magic Fishbone is a fairy tale where a Victorian era Cinderella gets her prince and the promise of thirty-five children, seventeen boys and eighteen girls. In Boldheart and the Latin Grammar Master the young seafaring pirate captain obtains permission to marry his love after proving his worth on the high seas. The fourth part, Mrs. Orange, is a domestic romance with role reversals of adults and children showcasing a frazzled child-mother who decides to place her brood of adult-children, whom she dotes on but for whom her husband doesn’t care much about, in boarding school.

While there is a romantic element in the childish love stories, the book is a romance mostly in the literary sense of romanticism—a literary style that revolts against the aristocratic social and political norms of the day. In spite of (or maybe because of the social commentary in the book) and the easy flow of the language, we found this to be a delightfully funny children’s book that made us laugh out loud.

Holiday Romance is unique for several reasons.

Originally written as a four-part series for Our Young Folks, An Illustrated Magazine for Boys and Girls, the book is Dickens’ only fictional work for children.

He is writing for children using their language and perspective.

Published in 1868, near the end of his life, it has also rarely been reprinted as a whole.

The use of fairy tales (which he opposed as a vehicle for promoting moral causes) is a primary literary vehicle for parts of the book.

So you ask, “What does Holiday Romance have to do with writing today?” It’s Dickens combination of realism and fantasy that strikes a chord with me. Dickens knew he was writing something off the wall when he penned Holiday Romance. In fact, he wrote to James Field in 1867 commenting about the implausibility of his work saying, “I hope the Americans will see the joke of Holiday Romance. The writing seems to me so like children’s that dull folks (on any side of any water) might rate it accordingly.” {http://users.unimi.it/dickens/essays/...}

For us, the humor and appeal of Holiday Romance lies in the fantastical element. We know children don’t get married in coat closets. Nor do they sail off on pirate ships, have fairy godmothers, or put their parents in boarding school. But those situations are fun, fanciful, and fantastic and that’s what makes this book work.

Likewise a paranormal story without the extraordinary elements of the supernatural would just be another story. Vampires, shape shifters, ghosts, things that go bump in the night are core to the genre. We all know these things don’t exist, but we are willing to suspend belief and enter into the writer’s world and let them take us for a ride. When a writer skillfully sets these elements in a realism that makes the reader want to look over her shoulder in a dark alley, load her conceal and carry gun with silver bullets, triple check the deadbolts, and keep the lights on after midnight, the author has turned those improbable essentials into something as close to reality as they will ever get. That thrill of finding the unexpected and abnormal is what lures most readers to paranormal. It’s also what makes most of us write it too.

Dickens may have had a social agenda when he wrote Holiday Romance, but we don’t care about that. We just thought it was a funny read. And how often can you say that about Dickens?

You can you can get your copy of this e-book on Amazon.

Here is a little about our paranormal series, The Turning Stone Chronicles .We hope you enjoy it.
 
Three ancient Celtic families. A magical Bloodstone that enables the wearers to shape shift. A charge to use the stone’s power to benefit mankind, and a battle, that is going on even today, to control the world. Can the Secret Society of shape shifters called the Turning Stone Society heal itself and bring peace to our world? Find out in the series The Turning Stone Chronicles series .
C.D. Hersh–Two hearts creating everlasting love stories.
Putting words and stories on paper is second nature to co-authors C.D. Hersh. They’ve written separately since they were teenagers and discovered their unique, collaborative abilities in the mid-90s. As high school sweethearts and husband and wife, Catherine and Donald believe in true love and happily ever after. They look forward to many years of co-authoring and book sales, and a lifetime of happily-ever-after endings on the page and in real life.
Social Media Info:Website Soul Mate PublishingFacebookAmazon Author PageTwitter

Put a Little Spice in your Holidays with this Temptingly Tasty Appetizer by Author Helen Carpenter...

Holiday potluck parties are lots of fun; a day to eat hearty and share good times. Bedeviled by what to bring? Try this easy spicy recipe for deviled eggs. (Do you know why they’re called deviled eggs? You get to eat two if you know the answer.*)

Deviled Eggs with Curry

Eggs (week-old or just-ready-to-expire eggs peel more easily)
1 tsp. salad dressing for each egg
Dash of curry powder
Dash of paprika

Hard-boil eggs using an egg cooker or a pot of cold water (cover eggs with water, bring to a boil, remove from heat, cover, and let stand 10-12 minutes). Drain; then place eggs in ice water until cool. Peel cooled eggs and cut in half lengthwise.

Slide egg yolks onto a plate and mash with a fork.

Stir in salad dressing until mixture is smooth and creamy.

Spoon yolk mixture back into egg whites, or use a disposable plastic baggie and an icing tip if you want ooh-la-la fancy deviled eggs.

Sprinkle with curry powder to taste. Dust with paprika for more color.

Arrange on a festive platter and serve warm or cold.

If you’re traveling to the potluck, carry this dish in an insulated cooler with ice.

*According to the Oxford Companion to Food, by Alan Davidson (1999), pp. 247-248, “devil” is a culinary term which first appeared as a noun in the 18th century, and then in the early 19th century as a verb meaning to cook something with fiery hot spices or condiments. The term was presumably adopted because of the connection between the devil and the excessive heat where the devil dwells.


Once upon a time there was a mother/daughter author duo named Helen and Lorri, who wrote as HL Carpenter. the Carpenters worked from their studios in Carpenter Country, a magical place that, like their stories was unreal but not untrue. Then one day Lorri left her studio to explore the land of What-If, and like others who have lost a loved one the magical place lost much of its magic. But thanks to family, plus an amazing group of wordsmiths named Authors Moving Forward (AMF), the magic is slowly returning.

Helen Carpenter loves liking and sharing blog posts from other authors. She lives in Florida with her husband of many years  and appreciates everyday, especially those without hurricanes.
Stay connected on her blog and Facebook.

Christmas Around the World by Author and Artist Linda Lee Greene...

How much easier it would be for me to fulfill a commission to write an article titled ‘Christmas Around the World,’ if I were actually free to travel, but I do not have that freedom for various reasons. Therefore, I call on my crafty Muse to settle on my shoulder and whisper in my ear an imaginary tale of travel, one in which I call on a number of women in faraway places, each of whom is immersed in high holiday celebrations unique to her culture. I am giddy over the prospect of beginning my make-believe trip with my Muse depositing me smack-dab in the presence of a Native American sister. 

Seven Sisters
acrylic painting by Linda Lee GreenePaulette welcomes me into her kitchen and then very graciously explains that embracing the Christian tradition is a thorny issue for many of her people given the injustices that America’s indigenous people have faced under white domination, both in the past and the present. Even so, the good spirit of the season permeates her culture in admirable ways. “You showed up just in time to catch me before I leave for a meeting of the Partnership with Native Americans (PWNA),” Paulette informs me. Responding to the quizzical look on my face, she continues. “We spread holiday cheer in the way of blankets, nutrition and education services, medical screenings, and more to over 30,000 of our Elders, children, and families in approximately 110 reservation communities here in the Northern Plains and the Southwest. Winter is brutal in these reservations and rural communities, and we work hard to come together in the spirit of giving at this special time.” Upon making my exit into a frozen morning, I drop a couple of Andrew Jacksons into Paulette’s PWNA donation basket and cringe at the gruesome symbolism of that particular face being imprinted on those U. S. $20.00 bills. 

I suppose my Muse took pity on me and decided to thaw me out, because in the blink of an eye, I am stretched out on the blinding sand of a beach in Melbourne, Australia. I am clad in a bathing suit, and the unmistakable aroma of seafood sizzling on a grill within smelling distance floods my mouth with saliva. Jingle Bells, the jolly Christmas song, rings out from an electronic device. The incongruity is not lost on me as I push to my feet to the greeting of a scantily-clad blonde goddess waving a barbecue fork in her hand. “We thought you were dead to the world, myte,” she says to me. “Come on and git yerself a plyte. It’s prawns on the barbie, stryght from Dad’s boat this mornin’.” Kathryn is the name of this supernatural being, and she is only one of many just like her in her large circle of beach party buddies. Someone thrusts a frosty bottle of beer in my hand and I recoup my senses enough to inquire, “Jingle Bells?” “What else?” Kathryn replies. “It’s Christmas! Eat up! Drink up! The day is jist gittin’ started. You don’t want to miss Carols by Candlelight tonight.” “Carols by Candlelight?” “Yeh, you know! The big charity evint to help out the needy in the community.” To get in the spirit of things, I chug the cold beer and pretend the hot white sand squishing between my bare toes is bone-chilling snow. 

A strong scent reminiscent of home that I am powerless to resist lures me away from summertime Melbourne to a cozy dining room in Tokyo, Japan. A table laden with buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken is occupied on all sides by a young Japanese family comprised of a mother, father, and two children. Apparently, I am the only dinner guest at what Aimi, the lovely mother, explains to me is their “hidden Christmas”. While the stigma of what in Japan is mainly a secular event is dissipating thanks to ubiquitous Western influences wrought through television and social media, influences such as America’s KFC as the food of choice for Christmas Day in Japan, still many people whose leanings remain Shinto or Buddhism, observe the day on the quiet. “It ruffles fewer feathers that way,” an otherwise very Japanese Aimi tells me in ironical American terminology.         

Muse is anxious to send me further into my whirlwind tour, and next, and for a minute or two, I wonder if Muse has time-slipped me back to America’s Old West as the gentle steed on whose back I ride trots me beneath a wide, wood archway that spans an opening in split-rail fencing on both sides. The fencing wanders and then evaporates into what appears a boundless, misty landscape. A carved sign in wood at the crest of the archway proclaims, “LET’S GO GREEN!” And then I know I am in current time, the ominous Climate Change time that does not withdraw to a voiceless corner even on Christmas Day. Great plumes of crystalized breath billow from the nostrils of the horse, and my own frosty breath hazes the lenses of my spectacles. I am in cold, cold country—not quite to the Arctic plain, but close enough, I am pretty sure. No level treeless tundra is this, though, for there are evergreen trees, evergreen trees upon evergreen trees as far as the eye can see, planted in deliberate, neat and regimental rows, like line upon line of locked-arm chorus girls frocked in frilly green. Donned in blue-jeans and a fleece-layered black-and-red-plaid flannel shirt, a Paul Bunyan-like figure materializes out of nowhere suddenly. “Welcome to Saskatchewan’s Evergreen Tree Farm. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Anne,” this burly Canadian female greets me. “You look like you need a warm-up. Come on up to the house. There’s a rum and brandy hot toddy there with your name on it.”       

A profusion of Christmas decorations, evergreen garlands, and twinkling lights at every door, window, and eave forms an almost impenetrable obstacle course to the entrance of the place. In the wake of my hostess, I step across the threshold and enter a winter wonderland, a plethora of all things Christmas. A steaming mug of the hot toddy beckons me to the table upon which it rests, and on the stovetop, the valve on the lid of a pressure cooker dances up and down. The aroma emitting from it is heavenly. “Have you ever had frontier bison stew?” Anne asks me. My stomach drops to my toes and I shake my head. I feel my enthusiasm wilt to a point of no return. I am not so sure my belly is ready for frontier bison stew. “I thought bison was an endangered species,” I state, my mouth going desert-dry in my unease. “Our First Nation people have taken the herds in hand and are bringing the numbers back to almost double now,” Anne explains. “The grazing habits of the herds are also reestablishing the indigenous grasses that are much better carbon capturers than non-native plant-life that was introduced in colonial times. With their bison and my trees, the First Nation people and I are working hard to do right by Mother Nature.” 

Don’t get me wrong. My gratitude for all of Anne’s hospitality is as mammoth as the woman herself. This big-hearted female had a hot toddy waiting to warm my icy bones. And it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she had grabbed that bison by its horns in her immense lumberjack hands and wrestled it to the ground all by herself, and then saw to all further machinations to get it into her pressure cooker just in time for my arrival at her tree farm this Christmas Day. And while I also appreciate all the laudable environmentalism, suffice to say that my main motivator at the moment is finding a gracious way of sidestepping Anne’s looming offer of a bowl of that bison stew. I send a private, silent message to my Muse that I am ready to move on to the next spot on my journey. Muse hears my plea and at mach-speed, I turn up in Jerusalem of all places, which I am to learn is planet Earth’s ‘City of Three Christmases’. 

While terrorists are wiping out Christians far and wide in the Middle East, the Jewish state of Israel is the one place in the area in which Christians can practice their religion freely. Their number is small: only about 2.5% of the total Israeli population, but Christmas celebrations are large. I meet up with Susan in a library on an outskirt of Jerusalem. She leads me to a table on which lays an enormous tome. She invites me to sit next to her, and she opens the book and I follow along as she spins an intriguing and complex story of Christmas in Jerusalem, the index finger of her right hand tracing the lines on the pages like a sightless person reading braille. Now and then, her head lowers to within mere inches of the book for a closer look at the ancient, fading text, and a crucifix suspended from a silver chain around her neck drops forward and drags across the pages. It seems a confirmation, of sorts. 

Christmas on Mithoff Street 
watercolor painting by Linda Lee Greene“The Christmas story took place in Israel,” Susan reminds me. “But through the centuries, and for a variety of reasons, the different factions of Christians have not come to a meeting of minds on the actual date of the birth of Jesus. So you see, Christmas in Jerusalem is not a one-day affair. Roman Catholic and Protestant Christians celebrate the day on December 25th. Orthodox Christians do so on January 6th, and Armenian Christians on January 18th.” Susan implores me to stick around and partake of an array of dazzling festivities commemorating the holiday, but by this time, I am more than ready for crisp air and fluffy snow and a bona-fide traditional Christmas as I recognize it to be—a Midwest America Christmas of time spent with family and friends, of sharing food and memories, of gift-giving and receiving amid the ambience of a gorgeously adorned Christmas tree and sparkly mantel and tabletops aglow in candlelight. As ever, my Muse reads me and transports me back to my home. 

My wise Muse arranges my return trip to be a bit slower than my arrivals had been, to give me time to reflect on all I had experienced. The impression most indelible in my memory is the evidence of Creator’s handiwork in those places, of the sights and sounds and aromas, and in the people and their talismans for good such as Paulette’s donation basket, Kathryn’s barbecue fork, Aimi’s KFC bucket, Anne’s trees, and Susan’s crucifix. And I wonder now, what’s in store for me on my next go around!      

Readers were introduced to American Nicholas Plato in multi-award-winning author Linda Lee Greene’s A Chace at the Moon, which was published in 2019 and is available for purchase at Amazon. 

Greene takes readers on yet another adventure of Nicholas’ whirlwind life in her Garden of the Spirits of the Pots, A Spiritual Odyssey. In this sequel, Nicholas shows up in Sydney, Australia. The principle plotline unfolds as on one Saturday of sightseeing he gets lost in Australia’s forbidding yet alluring outback, and there he happens upon a pintsized hut on a lonely plot littered with hundreds of clay pots of every size and description. Driven by a deathly thirst, he stops. A strange little brown man materializes out of nowhere and introduces himself merely as ‘Potter’ and welcomes Nicholas to his ‘Garden of the Spirits of the Pots.’ Although Nicholas has never laid eyes on Potter, the man seems to have expected Nicholas at his bizarre habitation and displays knowledge about him that nobody has any right to possess. Just who is this mysterious Aboriginal potter? 

Although they are as mismatched as two persons can be, a strangely inevitable friendship takes hold between them. It is a relationship that can only be directed by an unseen hand bent on setting Nicholas on a mystifying voyage of self-discovery and Potter on revelations of universal certainties. 

A blend of visionary and inspirational fiction with a touch of romance, this is a tale of Nicholas’ journey into parts unknown, both within his adopted home and himself, a quest that in the end leads him to his true purpose for living. 

Garden of the Spirits of the Pots is available in eBook and/or paperback on Amazon. 

Multi-award-winning author and artist Linda Lee Greene describes her life as a telescope that when trained on her past reveals how each piece of it, whether good or bad or in-between, was necessary in the unfoldment of her fine art and literary paths.
Greene moved from farm-girl to city-girl; dance instructor to wife, mother, and homemaker; divorcee to single-working-mom and adult-college-student; and interior designer to multi-award-winning artist and author, essayist, and blogger. It was decades of challenging life experiences and debilitating, chronic illness that gave birth to her dormant flair for art and writing. Greene was three days shy of her fifty-seventh birthday when her creative spirit took a hold of her.

She found her way to her lonely easel soon thereafter. Since then Greene has accepted commissions and displayed her artwork in shows and galleries in and around the USA. She is also a member of artist and writer associations.

Visit Linda on her blog and join her on Facebook. Linda loves to hear from readers so feel free to email her.