Winter Blogfest: Megan Morgan

December 22, 2017 By 9 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card.

The Life of a Christmas Tree

What’s the best part about Christmas? The Christmas tree, of course! Many of us put one of these up in our homes. We enjoy decorating it, lighting it up, and stuffing presents underneath it. And, for households with a cat, we cross our fingers that our furry friend at least gives it 24 hours before their first attempt to climb it or knock all the bulbs off it.

I love putting up the Christmas tree. On the day I put it up, my son and I spend hours decorating it, playing Christmas music, and having some real family time. However, I’m rather pragmatic about my tree. I know a lot of people who put up their Christmas tree very early, people who put it up on Thanksgiving, and of course, people who leave it up well into January. While I like having a Christmas tree around, I feel like putting it up too early and leaving it up too long will just oversaturate the joy of it for me. I prefer to keep my Christmas tree around for a shorter time, so it feels more special.

I never put my tree up until it’s actually December. I figure that’s good enough, especially since the stores are already shoving Christmas down my throat as soon as Halloween is over. If I want Christmas before or after my allotted Christmas tree time, I only need to take a walk through town, as Christmas isn’t hard to come by in public as soon as November begins, and then sticks around well past Christmas, into the New Year. But inside my house, I only want Christmas in December! To me, it doesn’t “feel” like Christmas until December rolls around.

Am I being a Scrooge? Not at all. I love Christmas! I love decorating for it and I love having a tree up. I just don’t want to overdo it for myself and end up resenting it. As I said, having it around for a shorter time makes it feel more special to me. Just like summer—since I unfortunately live in a part of the world where summer is short and fleeting, and all the more precious for it, we get it in small doses and have to enjoy it heartily. If I lived in a place where summer lasts for ages, I’d probably be longing for winter. If Christmas lasted for months, I’d get tired of it.

Of course, I don’t mind when I go to visit friends and they already have their tree up by Thanksgiving. To each their own, and I’ll enjoy all your trees, lights, and decorations, whenever and for however long you choose to keep them up! It’s a joyous season and we should take the time to celebrate, especially with sparkles and lights. But if you’re already feeling like there’s too much Christmas being heaped on you as soon as the turkey is eaten, stop over at my place. ?

How about you? When do you put your tree up? When do you take it down? Do you like having a Christmas tree around for a nice long while, or would you rather have a short engagement with it? No matter how long your celebration, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!


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Witches and Lycans and hillbillies, oh my!

Lorena Mills is a witch, but she’s not very good with potions and incantations. Working for a government agency that puts down dangerous uprisings of supernatural creatures, she does much more paperwork than spell casting. When her less-than-magical job lands her in the small Appalachian town of Blue Ditch, Kentucky, in the shadow of Black Mountain, her life starts to get a whole lot wilder.

In the forests surrounding the town, Wolvites—twisted, bestial creatures who hunt and kill humans—are posing a threat. When handsome, charming, and altogether reckless local Deacon Kelley insists on taking matters into his own hands, Lorena has more than monsters to worry about. He won’t stay out of her way, and he won’t take no for an answer.

Deacon is a Lycan–in modern terms, the non-shifting descendants of werewolves–and he and his family have protected Blue Ditch for generations. But now, something too sinister to be controlled by their efforts alone is stirring, and the Wolvites are far more vicious than they’ve ever been. Will Lorena be able to stop the threat and uncover the deadly secrets surrounding it before it’s too late?

To keep the town, and Deacon, safe, she’ll have to—and she’s really starting to like this town.

About the Author: Megan Morgan is an award-winning paranormal and contemporary romance author from Cleveland, Ohio. She also writes urban fantasy. A mild-mannered bartender by day and purveyor of things that go bump in the night, she’s trying to turn writing into her day job, so she can be on the other side of the bar for a change. She lives on the often-wintry shores of Lake Erie with her spoiled cat and adult son, both of whom shed too much.

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Winter Blogfest: Gail Kittleson

December 22, 2017 By 3 Comments

This post is part of Long and Shorts Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a dish towel with a recipe for lefse – USA only.

Traditions

When I married into a German-Norwegian family, I hadn’t given much thought to my family-of-origin’s nationality. We labeled ourselves Heinz 57, with the biggest share falling to the English. But my husband’s mother was 100% German, and she married a ¾ Norwegian, ¼ German man. Yet as far as Christmas traditions, the Norwegian side won out.

The only person in the entire extended family who doesn’t drool over lefse? That would be me. Nobody cares for the slithering Norwegian dish of lutefisk, but lefse—oh my! Early in our marriage, I learned to make these thin potato-flour rounds, but have since gotten lazy. With so many church bazaars offering the goods, and my husband receiving packages as gifts, why go to the effort?

Besides, our daughter married into an even stronger Norwegian family, so she’s learned the process. People eat this delicacy several ways, but my husband’s favorite is buttered with an extremely generous sprinkling of brown sugar. After that, we roll them up tight and insert in mouth. For my husband, some sort of heavenly bliss follows that last step.

Other than lefse, we follow a mix of traditions. The Christmas tree originated in Germany, as did lighting candles at the Christmas Eve service and singing Silent Night. Now that the grandchildren are older, it doesn’t matter whether we open gifts after the service or before. Oh—but we do enjoy oyster stew with homemade rice pudding. The pudding contains one almond that goes to the fortunate scooper, and supposedly foretells a year of good luck.

Tucked in my computer, a simple Christmas novella waits publication—otherwise, my novels offer little in the way of holiday celebrations. After all, it’s World War II, and empty places at the table do nothing to increase the cheer. Some families lost loved ones for good during the past year—others wait for word.

But through it all, the underlying hope that brightened this old weary world that first Christmas keeps these families going. At the candlelight service when we share that light with our neighbor, we’re reminded that whatever challenges and sorrows we face, we’re not alone.
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In war-torn London, American Kate Isaac grieves her husband, awaits their child’s birth, and welcomes her best friend Addie. But after her miscarriage, a meeting with mysterious Monsieur le Blanc launches her into Britain’s Secret Operations Executive(SOE). In late 1943, Kate parachutes into Southern France to aid the Resistance.

Domingo, a grieving Basque mountain guide-turned-saboteur, meets her parachute drop, tends her injured ankle, and carries her to safety. Reunited a few months later, they discover the injured Monsieur le Blanc who with his dying breath, reveals his familial connection to Kate.

In the shadow of the Waffen SS, Domingo and Kate find his younger brother Gabirel missing. While Domingo seeks Gabirel, Domingo’s parish priest, Père Gaspard, creates a new identity for Kate.

United once again, Kate and Domingo subject their mutual attraction to the cause. But can mere human will and moral courage change the war’s tide and forge a future for them?

About the Author: When Gail’s not steeped in World War II research, drafting scenes, or deep in one edit or another, she does a limited amount of editing for other authors. She also facilitates writing workshops and classes, both in Iowa and Arizona, where winters find her enjoying the incredibly gorgeous Ponderosa forest under the Mogollon Rim. Favorites: walking, reading, meeting new people, and hearing from readers who fall in love with her characters.

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Winter Blogfest: Peggy Jaeger

December 22, 2017 By 6 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a print copy of A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS to anyone from the Continental US who makes a comment. If no one from the Continental US makes a comment, I will pick a winner for an ecopy, no restrictions as far as location.

 

A Christmas Wish

My parents split when I was an infant and both remarried. My parents are of Irish extraction, my stepmother the same. My stepfather, though, was first generation Italian/American. This made for some memorable Christmas get-togethers during my childhood.

Christmas Eve was usually spent with the Italian relatives, starting at around 4 p.m. with the first course of the Feast of the 7 fishes. Every hour on the hour for 7 full hours a different fish course was served by my Sicilian-speaking-only step-grandmother. And with every course, a new bottle of wine would be served, so that by the time my mother, stepfather and I left, most of the relatives were gluttonously full and three sheets to the wind drunk. It made for many an interesting evening.

Christmas day was always spent with Irish relatives, starting with Midnight Mass Christmas eve,( and yes, we traveled to them as soon as the last fish course was finished on the Italo side.) and culminating in a day of drinking and eating. And when I say drinking I mean it in the purely alcoholic sense. Unlike with the stepfamily, my mother’s family consumed more booze than food. And they started drinking earlier, too. Like noon early. There would only be two courses for dinner, which was usually served at 5 without any food before that, because my Irish grandmother didn’t want any of us to spoil our dinners and eat too much before the meal was served. I never understood how she didn’t equate the falling asleep drunks at the dinner table with the lack of food to sop up the afternoon booze. By seven p.m. most of them would be passed out in various lounge chairs and couches, the Yule Log blasting Christmas music in the background to drown out the yelling coming from the kitchen where my mother, her mother, and my aunt would be fighting about….anything and everything.

From the time I realized my family was different from all the other families in my school I started asking Santa for a different family every year for Christmas. The number one item on my Santa wish list was: a family that didn’t fight, drink, or yell.

It wasn’t until I was married and made my own family that I got my wish. When I wrote my very first Christmas romance, A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS, I invented the family I wished for as a child. The San Valentinos are  loyal and loving and they do fight – but only in the best sense of the word because they fight for each other, not against one another. I got my wished-for family twice: One, I married; the other I created.

Gia San Valentino is the beloved baby in her large, loud, and loving Italian family. Family dramas, passion, and food rule the San Valentino clan, and Gia takes it all in stride, her family the touchstone of her life. But with Christmas fast approaching she longs for a life and home of her own with a husband and bambini she can love and spoil. The single scene doesn’t interest her and the men her well-meaning family introduce her to are all wise guy wanna-bes, with old world views on women – the pregnant and barefoot kind – just the type of man she’s trying to avoid.

When Gia lends a helping hand at her neighborhood parish’s Christmas Festival she meets a guy who has all her requirements for perfect-man status. Tall, sweet, good looking, and from a big Italian family of his own, it seems she might finally have found a man she can give her heart to. When a miscommunication has her believing he’s the new parish priest, her happily-ever-after hopes evaporate because he’s the proverbial forbidden fruit.
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Or is he?

About the Author: Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance writer who writes about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.

Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, Peggy brings all topics of daily life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she has created the families she wanted as that lonely child.

Tying into her love of families, her children’s book, THE KINDNESS TALES, was illustrated by her artist mother-in-law.

Peggy holds a master’s degree in Nursing Administration and first found publication with several articles she authored on Alzheimer’s Disease during her time running an Alzheimer’s in-patient care unit during the 1990s.

In 2013, she placed first in two categories in the Dixie Kane Memorial Contest: Single Title Contemporary Romance and Short/Long Contemporary Romance.

In 2017 she came in 3rd in the New England Reader’s Choice contest for A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS and was a finalist in the 2017 STILETTO contest for the same title.

A lifelong and avid romance reader and writer, she is a member of RWA and her local New Hampshire RWA Chapter.

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Winter Blogfest: Judith Sterling

December 21, 2017 By 9 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of any of my books, fiction or nonfiction. Winner’s choice!

Never Far Away

Christmastime always makes me think of my maternal grandfather, Poppy.  He loved the holidays and died just before Thanksgiving in 2007.  My twin sons, Connor and Geoffrey, were three at the time and only got to meet him once…while he was alive, that is.

In mid-December, my husband Dan and I took them to my parents’ house in Florida for the weekend.  Twice during our visit, the boys’ gazes shot to my mom’s side at the same time.

Both of them looked, but it was Geoffrey who spoke.  “Poppy,” he said, pointing.

Each time, Mom nodded but said nothing.  The boys confirmed what she already sensed.

Later that day, she, Dan, and I were talking by the pool.  The boys played close by.

Geoffrey piped up, and his voice was adamant.  “No, no, Poppy.  Light on.”  He glanced to his side while his hands fiddled with a Spiderman action figure.  “No light off, Poppy.  Light ON.”

Dan gaped at him.  “Did he just say what I think he said?”

Mom turned.  “What?”

“I think he was talking to Poppy,” I said.

Wide-eyed, Geoffrey’s gaze traveled up to a point about nine feet high, right beside the pool.  “Poppy, why are you flying?”

Mom raised her eyebrows.  “Now I heard that!”
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Needless to say, the event made her weekend.

On our return home, Geoffrey scampered into the house, then halted in front of our Christmas tree, whose lights were off.  He grinned.  “Hi, Poppy!”

A minute later—by which time Geoffrey ignored the tree—Connor ran into the house.  He stopped and stared at the same spot his twin had.

With a smile, he pointed to it.  “Poppy!”

I felt my grandfather’s presence, strong as could be.  It was a reminder that those we’ve loved and lost are never far away.

Wishing everyone a joyous holiday season!

Ashling Donoghue never dreamed moving to Ireland would rock her perception of reality and plunge her into a mystery that brings legend to life.

At seventeen, she’s never had a boyfriend, but she feels an immediate connection to Aengus Breasal, the son of the wealthy Irishman who’s invited her family to stay at his Killarney estate. For the first time in her life, a guy she likes seems attracted to her.

But Aengus is secretive, with good reason. He and his family are the Tuatha Dé Danann, ageless, mythical guardians adept at shifting between this reality and the magical dimension known as the Otherworld. Evil forces from that world threaten the Breasals, the Donoghues, and all of Ireland. Ashling must open her heart, face her fears, and embrace a destiny greater than she could ever have imagined.

About the Author: Judith Sterling’s love of history and passion for the paranormal infuse everything she writes. Flight of the Raven and Soul of the Wolf are part of her medieval romance series, The Novels of Ravenwood. The Cauldron Stirred is the first book in her YA paranormal fantasy series, Guardians of Erin. Written under Judith Marshall, her nonfiction books–My Conversations with Angels and Past Lives, Present Stories–have been translated into multiple languages. She has an MA in linguistics and a BA in history, with a minor in British Studies. Born in that sauna called Florida, she craved cooler climes, and once the travel bug bit, she lived in England, Scotland, Sweden, Wisconsin, Virginia, and on the island of Nantucket. She currently lives in Salem, Massachusetts with her husband and their identical twin sons.

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Winter Blogfest: Clare London

December 21, 2017 By 6 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a free download in the format of your choice of any of my Christmas-themed books. All the choices can be seen at www.clarelondon.com/all-books/if-you-like-christmas/.

This Xmas 2017

This year I’ve been revisiting that perennial question: What do I want for Christmas?

Isn’t it always, what do *I* want? We really are driven towards being selfish, demanding and materialistic, even if our better self fights against it all the way.

Christmas is a special time for children, and despite all the marketing aimed cynically toward them, I think my two sons are very compassionate and tolerant of the wider issues in life. And that’s considering they’re young men and their minds rarely step beyond beer, FIFA, South Park re-runs, the latest guitar, boxing, and pizza.

 

We were all sick with the flu last year – I can’t remember us ever being that bad. Son#1 survived the best—partly because he escaped to the pub, he SAID it was to protect himself from the Contamination Zone—but Son#2 felt pretty bad. Both boys have been very healthy through their lives apart from the usual scrapes and occasional broken bones.

So this has all made me think more carefully. And made me rethink MY Christmas list.  Maybe I can wait for that diamond ring / new laptop / pair of Jimmy Choo’s / personal whippy ice cream maker that have all been on the list since I was a teenager LOL.

For example, I’d want…

  • Good health, for me, my family, and my friends.
  • Son#1 to continue playing guitar and singing, bringing pleasure to so many, and to find the job of his dreams.
  • Son#2 to succeed in his career, and hold on to his inspiring enthusiasm and liveliness.
  • Hubby to continue to enjoy teaching, despite the crippling administrative burden that teachers have to cope with nowadays.
  • My house to continue to stand steady, despite looking internally like a small thermonuclear device went off in a few of the rooms.
  • (am I allowed a small personal wish?! LOL) More time to write, and plenty of cheeky, sexy ideas to share.

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And for us all?

  • To continue to laugh, to love music and books and art, to over-eat all the good things, to talk, to argue, to be distracted by new and interesting topics, to leap to the defence of intolerance, to worry we never do everything properly enough, to forget to say ‘no’ when someone needs a hand…

All the things that make us HUMAN!!!

Do you have any alternative wishes you’d like to put on the list?!

The Peppermint Schnapps Predicament by Clare London

Frankie Faraday is a promising young salesperson at Mason’s Emporium. Bill Mason is his boss, the son of the store’s founder, and the object of Frankie’s long-suffering, deeply devoted crush. Bill is steady and sober; Frankie is frivolous and flaky. Or so they seem to each other, until the night of the annual inventory, when they’re trapped together in the Seasonal Gifts storeroom, with nothing but candy and peppermint schnapps to sustain them until they’re rescued. And then the real truths—and something definitely more intimate—emerge!

About the Author: Clare London took her pen name from the city where she lives, loves, and writes. A lone, brave female in a frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home, she juggles her writing with her other day job as an accountant.
She’s written in many genres and across many settings, with award-winning novels and short stories published both online and in print. She says she likes variety in her writing while friends say she’s just fickle, but as long as both theories spawn good fiction, she’s happy. Most of her work features male/male romance and drama with a healthy serving of physical passion, as she enjoys both reading and writing about strong, sympathetic, and sexy characters.
Clare currently has several novels sulking at that tricky chapter three stage and plenty of other projects in mind… she just has to find out where she left them in that frenetic, testosterone-fuelled family home.
Clare loves to hear from readers, and you can contact her at her website and all over social media.

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Winter Blogfest: Kathryn Knight

December 21, 2017 By 10 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win an ebook copy of either Silver Lake or Gull Harbor, winner’s choice.

The History of St. Nick

While most people are familiar with the story of Jesus’s birth in Bethlehem, and how it relates to the Christmas holiday, many are unaware of how a 4th century bishop influenced the legend of Santa Claus.

Saint Nicholas, or Nikolaos of Myra, was a bishop in an ancient town in Lycia—now Demre, in the Antalya Province of Turkey.  One of his most well-known deeds involved giving unexpected gifts, one of which landed in a stocking.  According to the story, Nicholas wanted to help three young girls, whose father had no money for their dowries.  At that point in history, such a fate could result in a life of prostitution.  Not wanting to embarrass the poor father, Nicholas threw bags of gold coins through the windows.  In one version of the tale, the father laid in wait to see who was doing this…and so instead of throwing the third bag through the window, Nicholas dropped it down the chimney, and it landed in a stocking hung to dry by the fire.

The Dutch figure of Sinterklass is based upon Saint Nick, and he more resembles the white-bearded man in red we’re all familiar with.  In turn, our Santa Claus is derived from Sinterklass, and it’s widely believed that he was introduced to North America around the time of the Revolutionary War, by inhabitants of New York City, which was once New Amsterdam, a Dutch colony.

Of course, many other sources have combined to shape both the modern-day image of Santa Claus and the various holiday legends and traditions that have evolved (decorating trees, a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer, winter feasts and festivals, etc.)  Perhaps someone will delve deeper into those topics in another post during The Winter Blogfest here at Long and Short Reviews—keep checking back!

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Four years ago, Emily Shea and Staff Sergeant Brett Leeds agreed to part with no strings attached. Sparks flew during their brief affair, but fate intervened, sending Brett overseas. When an unexpected pregnancy derailed Emily’s own plans, her attempts to locate Brett were soon overwhelmed by the challenges of single motherhood. Now, Brett has returned home, and Emily is forced to share her secret.

Despite feeling betrayed, Brett is determined to forge a relationship with their son, Tyler. As the former lovers battle both their inner demons and their mutual desire, another presence enters their lives—Tyler’s imaginary friend. Soon, however, the chilling evidence points to a different conclusion: a ghost has formed a dangerous connection with their son. Emily’s attempts to help both a lost soul and a friend in need spiral toward a deadly confrontation, and Brett must race to save Emily before he loses her again—forever.

About the Author: Kathryn Knight spends a great deal of time in her fictional world, where mundane chores don’t exist and daily life involves steamy romance, dangerous secrets, and spooky suspense. Kathryn writes contemporary romance spiked with mysterious hauntings as well as YA paranormal romance filled with forbidden love. Her novels are award-winning #1 Kindle bestsellers and RomCon Reader Rated picks. When she’s not reading or writing, Kathryn spends her time catching up on those mundane chores, driving kids around, and teaching fitness classes. She lives on beautiful Cape Cod with her husband, their two sons, and a number of rescued pets.

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Winter Blogfest: Rick R. Reed

December 21, 2017 By 6 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a signed copy of ORIENTATION.

Christmas Snapshot: 1962

© 2017 by Rick R. Reed

When I look at this picture, it evokes a lot—happy memories, a sense of loss, a bit of wonder, and gratitude. That’s me in the center with the cowboy hat, big ears, and tricycle. To my right is my mom, behind me my dad, and to my left is my sister Susan. It’s Christmas 1962.

Why does this old photograph induce such a complex mixture of emotion? For one, both of my parents are gone. My dad passed from a heart attack in 1990 and Mom succumbed to cancer in 2007. Seeing them both so young and beautiful only makes me miss them more. The death of a parent leaves in its wake a hole that can never be filled. For the child who survives, the world is never quite the same. So looking at this picture, back through many, many years, fills me with sadness and loss, for the family I once had.

But I don’t want to be maudlin. This same picture and same memory is also joyous. Look at our happiness! I am grateful I grew up with this quirky, sometimes dysfunctional unit, grateful I had a mother who showed me, every day, that love and family were the most important treasures we could have.

There’s a kind of innocence here, too. It was the early 1960s and big changes were in store for the world and for each of us. It would take a biography-length post to fill you in on those, but it’s enough to say that the picture reminds me of a little boy who could be filled with simple happiness on Christmas morning by a little magic, lots of love, and the promise of future whose joys and sorrows had yet to be revealed.

A novel about reincarnation and love
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Christmas, 1983: Robert is a young man tending to his soul mate Keith, who is dying from AIDS. Robert tries valiantly to make this a special Christmas, but loses the fight late Christmas night.

Christmas, 2007: Robert ventures out and finds a young girl about to fling herself into the waters of Lake Michigan. He rescues her, and the two form a bond forged from familiarity, and even love. Neither understands it, since Jess is a lesbian and Robert is gay. But there’s more …

Jess begins having strange dreams, reliving key moments she couldn’t know about in Keith and Robert’s life. They begin to wonder if their feelings might be rooted in something much more mystical than a savior/victim relationship.

As the two move toward each other, Robert’s younger lover Ethan plots the unthinkable. His crystal meth-addled mind becomes convinced there’s only one way to save himself: Robert’s destruction.

There’s a murder attempt … salvation … redemption …

And a new love is born.

About the Author: Real Men. True Love.
Rick R. Reed draws inspiration from the lives of gay men to craft stories that quicken the heartbeat, engage emotions, and keep the pages turning. Although he dabbles in horror, dark suspense, and comedy, his attention always returns to the power of love. He’s the award-winning and bestselling author of more than fifty works of published fiction and is forever at work on yet another book. Lambda Literary has called him: “A writer that doesn’t disappoint…” You can find him at www.rickrreed.com or www.rickrreedreality.blogspot.com. Rick lives in Palm Springs, CA with his beloved husband and their Boston terrier.

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Winter Blogfest: Amey Zeigler

December 21, 2017 By 6 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a free digital copy of Baker’s Dozen. Must have email address.

Gingerbread

Growing up, we moved around a lot for my dad’s job, so holiday traditions varied, depending on the places we lived. In Virginia, we visited Colonial Williamsburg to see their wreaths decorating each historic door, enjoyed the candles in each window and the frosty air that bit our noses. In Alaska, we built snowman and snow caves over the holiday break, drank hot chocolate to warm our frozen fingers, and went sledding. In Arizona, we played outside in shorts at my grandmother’s house, running between cactus and tumbleweed, receiving bikes and skateboards as gifts that we played with that afternoon in the sun.

But there was one tradition that my mom was pretty consistent with, no matter where we lived, and that was making gingerbread houses. In fact, the smell of cinnamon and cloves wafting from the oven still takes me back to those warm winter kitchens of my youth.

I didn’t appreciate what kind of effort it takes to make the gingerbread, roll out the dough, measure and cut walls and roofs and bake a whole house. But my mom did it. Sometimes crushing up hard candies for stained glass windows.

Now that I’m the mom, I’m delighted to carry on this tradition. It’s something my kids ask for every year. And I can’t cheat and use Graham crackers, either. I have to make the gingerbread from scratch. We save our colorful Halloween candy to use on our houses so we don’t have to buy extra. (I’m cheap!) Sometimes we have contests with friends. Other times we just do one for the family. But it must be done!

So, I’m sharing my version of the recipe.

1 1/2 c. (12 oz) dark molasses

1 c. packed brown sugar

2/3 c. cold water

1/3 c. unsalted butter, softened

7 c. flour

2 tsp. baking soda

2 tsp. ground ginger

1 tsp. ground allspice

1 tsp. ground cloves

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Mix molasses, brown sugar, water and butter. Mix together dry ingredients and add to wet mixture until well combined. Refridgerate two hours.

Heat over to 350* F. Roll dough 1/4 inch thick on floured board. Use cookie cutters or measure dimensions of house. (Two side walls, two front and back walls with peaks, two roof pieces.) Place 2” a part on lightly greased cookie sheet. Bake until no indentation remains until touched about 10-12 minutes. Cool and decorate.

(To make soft vegan cookies substitute coconut oil for butter, though delicious this modification may be unsuitable for construction of gingerbread houses.)

Twenty-three year-old investigative journalist, Andy Miller is armed with her many disguises and creativity to take down the riff-raff of Saint Louis. When her stepbrother is murdered by the mob, Andy soon discovers she’s out of her depth.

Enter Hugh Donaldson who has reasons of his own for discovering the murderer. He’ll use everything in his power to achieve that, including lying to Andy about his past. Dangerous as he is attractive, his martial arts skills and his quirky ways raise Andy’s suspicions.
Although Andy balks at his lies, Hugh’s charms, twenty-inch biceps, and electrifying blue eyes are difficult to resist. Striking out on their own, Hugh and Andy try to outwit each other as they traverse North America tracking down people connected to the case.

As clues disappear and the body count climbs, Andy and Hugh must trust each other and use their combined skills to bring the murderer to justice.

About the Author: I wrote my first mystery with my best friend in fourth grade. I wrote, she illustrated. It also had a cute boy in it with spiky hair (because that was the style back then). Not much has changed. I love mystery. I love romance. I love suspense. I love action, adventure and comedy. But I want it to have a happy ending.

I love writing about different places because I grew up moving all around the United States. In my books, I want to explore the whole world.

Growing up, my poor mom had to be so patient with me as I always wanted to try new things. I played violin, drums, flute, piano, all before I was sixteen. I also discovered I don’t have much talent for music.

When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I was afraid to tell them I wanted to write because I didn’t know how to write.

I am so grateful for my Sophomore year Honor’s English teacher who gave me a star and five points (highest marks!) on my personal essay in the category for Voice. I wouldn’t have hoped to have had enough talent to pursue writing otherwise.

I’d like to thank my college writing professor who gave me a C in Creative Writing: Short Story writing. I worked even harder on my own and published my first short story the next semester.

I adopt stray furniture left on the side of the road. I like to fix it up and give it a new home and look.

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Winter Blogfest: Tena Stetler

December 20, 2017 By 22 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $10.00 Amazon Gift Card.

Traditions – Our Christmas Tree

Allergic to pine trees as I child, we had an aluminum silver tree with a color wheel that reflected colors over the tree’s shimmering branches. Not a pine but served the purpose. Santa left presents under it and we sang carols around it. Our special ornaments were hung on the tree along with candy canes and blue, green and red balls.

These days, you can’t tell the real trees from the artificial.  Our seven foot tree with large sweeping boughs to the ground is put up the day after Thanksgiving.   Since the Blue Spruce is artificial, no problems with pine needles and drying out.

Christmas ornaments are a family tradition. We receive a special ornament all our own each year. This tradition is handed down from generation to generation dating back to the pioneers.

Our tree will never be a fancy designer tree with matching babbles and bows, but it is decorated with years of love. Ornaments range from Keepsake Frosty Friends, to handmade ones by friends and family. I’d guess there are over 150 ornaments we hang every year while reminiscing where the decoration came from and playing Christmas carols, joined by our parrot, dog and turtle. A relaxing and memorable start to our sometimes crazy Christmas season.

Homemade candy is another scrumptious and fun tradition. Fantasy Fudge, Divinity and my all-time favorite Beaver Dams.  What are Beaver Dams you ask?  Simple and tasty.  Take a 12 oz. package of butterscotch chips, melt them in a double boiler, stir in half-package of crispy Chow Mein Noodles and one-half can (about 8 oz) of cocktail peanuts. Stir until all ingredients are covered with butterscotch. Spoon the concoction onto foil and let set. They look like beaver dams, thus the name.  They taste fantastic.

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Stefan is a Native American vampire, former assassin for the Vampire Council. In a twist of fate, he now DJ’s the midnight shift for a small radio station in Whitefish, Montana, on the edge of Glacier National Park where his secret is safe until…

Born in Ireland, Brandy now works as a park ranger and trail guide in the park. During a full moon, Stefan and Brandy’s paths cross in a near physical collision on a trail. Their attraction is immediate and undeniable, almost as if fate demanded it.

Their union was foretold long ago in Irish folk tales where vampires and gryphons, warlocks and demons, witches and faeries must work together for the good of man and magic kind. Is a trip to Ireland the key to unravelling secrets and returning the magic? And even more importantly, will their love survive the trip?

About the Author: Tena Stetler is a paranormal romance and cozy mystery author with an over-active imagination. Colorado is home; shared with her husband, a brilliant Chow Chow, a spoiled parrot and a forty-five-year-old box turtle. With the Rocky Mountains outside her window, she sits at her computer surrounded by a wide array of paranormal creatures telling her their tales. Her books tell tales of magical kick-ass women and mystical alpha males that dare to love them. Well, okay there are a few companion animals to round out the tales.

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Winter Blogfest: Jianne Carlo

December 20, 2017 By 6 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short’s Review Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win 3 copies of Sinner.

Christmas 2017

I love Christmas. It’s my favorite time of year.

While other families have traditions that date back generations, my family is too young, too geographically widespread, and too culturally diverse for a single set of regulated activities surrounding the holiday.

My mom’s the daughter of first-generation Portuguese immigrants to Guyana, and my dad was the product of a Portuguese gold mine owner and his Indian indentured servant (his mistress – he legalized his sons – we know nothing about any daughters he may have had).

So I’m 3/4 Portuguese and 1/4 Indian. I met & married my Dutch-born Canadian husband in college. We have 3 sons. They check off most boxes re ethnicity.

My 3 brothers are pretty much in the same situation with their wives; one red-headed Irish female, one Columbian, and one of French origin. You should see our family pictures. We look like a UN section.

The only tradition we have is one inherited from my grandfather.

We make a dish called Garlic Pork. Basically cubes of pork are marinated in a mixture of garlic, thyme, vinegar, and pepper for four days. The pork is removed from the mixture, washed, dried, and then steamed. On Christmas morning, the cubes are deep-fried, and served for breakfast with toast. The chaser, so you don’t repeat the garlic, is a screwdriver, heavy on the vodka. This sounds gross, but it is absolutely delish. My mouth’s watering just thinking about it. Email me if you’re interested in the recipe.

In the summer of 2008, Loose-Id put out a call for books based on Christmas songs. I started going through my list of favorite seasonal tunes and could not for the life of me get past ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.’

You know that thing where a jingle sticks in your head and will not go away no matter what you do… It drove me batty. And *light bulb moment*, a partridge in a pear tree became a paratrooper in a pear tree. Snap your fingers and The Hades Squad series was born!

A Paratrooper in a Pear Tree, now re-released as Sinner, starts with Linc Chapman, opera singer and SEAL, landing unconscious in a pear tree. His soon-to-be wife, Destiny Driven (her real name) is an editor sent to ‘sex up’ a reluctant author’s work. When Linc, aka Sinner, awakens, he discovers Destiny’s hoard of sex toys and vintage 70s porn DVDs.

It’s all uphill from there.

I think though, that I love the ending the best.

Excerpt – Sinner:

~~~

Performance rehearsals devoured most of the five days before the wedding. Never in his life had Linc ever been anxious before a concert, but his nerves sparked that week every time he sang his bass solo for Handel’s Messiah. Lincoln was singing for one woman and one woman alone. This performance was more than a concert—it was the foundation the remainder of his life would rest on. It had to be perfect.

His wedding day dawned gray and overcast. Moisture hung in the air. He wanted to howl at the heavens. How dare they mar his perfect day?

English ivy, the variegated leaves glistening silver in the flickering candles nestled into each pew’s entrance, trailed the burnished mahogany back of each bench. Irish ivy boasting shining dark emerald leaves and clusters of electric blue berries decorated the gray and white altar.

Not a pin dropped during Linc’s solo.

His gaze roved the audience as he sang.

No Destiny.

The conductor caught his searching glance and rolled his eyes left to the vestibule. Only Destiny’s face was visible, her black eyes brimmed moisture, a lone tear snaking down her cheek. She smiled, the gesture dreamy, enchanted. As he sang the last note, he bowed in her direction.
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The “Hallelujah” chorus, low and hypnotic, bounced from wall to wall and up to the cathedral’s high, domed ceiling.

Destiny, escorted by Lincoln’s father, began the traditional bridal walk.

~~~

To enter a contest to win a free copy of Sinner either Follow Me on BookBub or Sign Up for My Newsletter (it should read—my very infrequent newsletter—I am such a slacker):

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The winners (3) will be announced January 3, 2018 here.

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Have a great Christmas season, stay safe on the road, and don’t let your credit cards go overboard in the malls (it’s proven, it’s the plastic’s  fault not yours).

Cheers,

Jianne Carlo

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Navy SEAL Sinner’s trapped in a blizzard with Destiny, a woman traveling with porn DVDs, whips, and cuffs. When the electricity fails, there’s only one way to stay hot.

Navy SEAL Sinner is no choir boy. Deployed to fight an out-of-control brush fire in Alaska, Sinner is the last smoke jumper to exit the plane. Sinner veers off course, his chute fails, his reserve opens, and he’s knocked unconscious when he lands in a pear tree. Sinner awakens in a cabin to the sight of a woman with the face of a Madonna and the body of a stripper tending to him.

Destiny is in Alaska, armed with whips, cuffs, and copies of “classic”—who knew?—porn movies, to “sex up” former bestselling author Nadine Roland’s latest manuscript. It’s make or break it time for Destiny, career wise. The last thing she needs is a car that won’t start, a fricking blizzard, and a SEAL named Sinner who thinks she’s into BDSM because of her “toys.”

Sinner doesn’t believe Destiny is a book editor, not for a second. He knows they’re trapped in the cabin for at least two days. When the lights go out, Sinner knows exactly how he’s going to stay warm.

About the Author: Award winning author, Jianne Carlo’s motto is simple: Alpha Me Please.
While strong heroines, exotic locations, and cultural differences are her forte, she goes weak in the knees for bad boys, warriors, and alphas. Send her a man with an attitude and she’ll find the right woman to tame him.

Jianne loves hot and spicy food, stomach-plunging park rides, and is kept on her toes by her Viking husband of thirty-five years, and three, handsome grown sons. Jianne’s a Zumba addict who loves to cook. Her favorite possession is her ‘Robo-stove. There’s nothing she likes more than hearing from readers.

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