A Sweet Potato Thanksgiving by Jamie Hill

November is a good time to reflect on things for which we’re thankful. Thanksgiving dinner is something I’ve always taken for granted, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve come to understand that not everyone is so fortunate to have a big, bountiful meal. (I hope that those of us who do get to partake will keep the less fortunate in mind and donate as we’re able to our local food pantries.)

Canadian Thanksgiving has passed, but we’re just gearing up for it here in the states. Thanksgiving seems to me sort of a forgotten holiday, sandwiched in between two others that are much more fun for children. For many adults, Thanksgiving boils down gathering together whatever family and friends you can and enjoying a big meal and lots of leftovers.

In my family we go the traditional route with turkey, potatoes and gravy, and sage dressing (cooked in a separate dish, never in the bird.) My favorite vegetable is green bean casserole and my second favorite is a sweet potato casserole topped with brown sugar and pecans. It tastes more like pumpkin than sweet potatoes and is sweet enough to be a dessert, but we serve it right along with the meal. Homemade rolls round out the first course and pumpkin pie with whipped topping comes out about an hour after dinner has settled.

If I’ve kept up with the pots and pans as I went along it’s just a matter of loading plates directly into the dishwasher and finding enough plastic containers (with lids that fit) for the leftovers. They’re piled in the front of the fridge because just a few hours later we’ll drag everything back out for a repeat of the same meal in the evening.

Friday noon we’re still eating turkey but by that night, we usually order pizza because we’re ready for a change. On the weekend, the leftovers are either consumed or frozen because we’re all tired of them by that point.

Once Thanksgiving weekend has past it’s full speed ahead to Christmas. Ho! Ho! Ho! But we’ll talk about next month. For now, I’m making my grocery shopping list and checking it twice. If I close my eyes I can smell Thanksgiving dinner cooking already.

Please enjoy our family’s sweet potato casserole recipe, and have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Sweet Potato Casserole

2 pounds sweet potatoes (boiled and mashed)

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 cup butter or margarine

4 eggs (beaten)

2 teaspoons vanilla

1 cup sugar 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix all above ingredients with electric mixer and pour into buttered 9 x 9 casserole dish.

Topping:

3 Tablespoons all purpose flour

1/2 cup soft margarine

3/4 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup pecans

Mix topping ingredients together and pour over top of sweet potatoes.  Bake 350 degrees for 30-40 minutes. For sweeter taste, double topping ingredients.

  

Find Jamie Hill's titles including her latest release, Pieces of the Past, here: http://bookswelove.net/jamiehill.php

Circumstantial Evidence by Gail Roughton

A writer’s done a good day’s work when the characters have gotten themselves into or out of some sort of convoluted situation, whether humorous, dangerous, nightmarish, or ridiculous. It’s what we do. 

     We create worlds of action, adventure, and danger. We plop our characters squarely in the middle of it and watch them squirm their way out of situations we’d love or hate to get ourselves into and out of but never will. And why not? We’re safe at our little keyboards; there aren’t any repercussions for us. Or are there? Because our most valuable tool, the one essential thing modern writers can’t function without—could be our Judas. Our betrayer. Think about it. Over the past years, how many trials have featured the defendant’s computer as one of the star witnesses? 

Unless you’re a computer whiz yourself, you don’t know how to wipe your computer’s memory, now do you? I don’t mean clear out the recent browsing history - occasionally even I remember to do that.  I mean clear the “innards” of your computer, where, the experts tell us, our entire online life is recorded. Forever. Unless you’ve got one of those wiping devices from the CIA, of course.  I don’t know about you, but I just don’t have a lot of those high tech luxuries on my shelf and I’m pretty sure they have folks who could backtrack it through the servers anyway.

What I do have is a browsing history guaranteed to send me away for life were I the suspect in an horrendous crime being prosecuted by any fairly competent District Attorney. And if somebody wanted to frame me—well, they’d just have a field day. In the course of building the backgrounds of my books, in creating that believability that grabs a reader and makes them believe the unbelievable, I’ve set myself up. Big-time. Especially if anything ever happens to my husband.

Even a cursory glance at my browser shows that I know how to obtain a marriage license 24/7 in Vegas, and where to go to use it. I know where prostitution’s legal in Nevada, and where it isn’t. And it isn’t legal in Las Vegas, who’d have thought? 

I’ve got a general knowledge of Voodoo and its hierarchy of spirits, as well as Hoodoo (which isn’t the same thing, by the way). I’ve checked out the quality, weight, and street value of various controlled substances, and the styles and types of different handguns and the damages each can inflict. 

I know the Temple of Isis at Pompeii (yes, Pompeii, not Egypt) was excavated in 1764. I know golems are creatures made of sand, from Jewish mythology, who carry out their makers’ bidding.

I mean, any prosecutor could convince a jury I offed my husband by means of a golem armed with a .357 Magnum and powered by astral projection, hid his body in a mausoleum, ran away to Vegas, opened a brothel, and founded a black magic coven.

Or maybe they’d say I ran away to Daytona Bike Week with an outlaw biker, and currently serve as second-in-command for a big sprawling drug cartel. Or—well, there’s just no end to it. If you’d like to see the results of all this web-crawling, hop on over to my web-blog, http://gailroughton.blogspot.com where you can view the final results of all this incriminating research. None of my books would have been possible without it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d better go make sure my husband took his vitamins. I do believe it might be in my best interests to keep him healthy. 

Halloween in the Quirky Suburbs of SoCal

While other little girls played with Barbie dolls and latest version of baby 'cry and wet', I collected Universal Monster Collectibles and stayed up late at night to watch the horror host, "Moon-a-Lisa" introduce the classic Universal Studio Monster (black and white) movies.

One of my favorites was the 1932 version of The Mummy.

For those unfamiliar with the movie, I've created a plot summary:

In 1921 a field expedition in Egypt discovers the mummy of ancient Egyptian prince Im-Ho-Tep, who was condemned and buried alive for sacrilege. Also found in the tomb is the Scroll of Thoth, which can bring the dead back to life. One night a young member of the expedition reads the Scroll out loud, and then goes insane, realizing that he has brought Im-Ho-Tep back to life. Ten years later, disguised as a modern Egyptian, the mummy attempts to reunite with his lost love, an ancient princess who has been reincarnated into a beautiful young woman.

Yes, a new version was made in 1998.  However, I prefer Boris Karloff, and the stylized special effects. The flashback scenes in ancient Egypt were designed to resemble a silent film, with no dialog, exaggerated make-up and gestures, and a faster camera speed, to suggest the great antiquity of the events portrayed. 

And, if you are an avid fan of this genre, you will know that this is the only Universal monster of the time without a fictional antecedent. Large segments of the movie are scene-by-scene parallels of the movie Dracula (1931). An ankh symbol (the ancient Egyptian glyph for "life") is substituted for the crucifix of the earlier movie. Even Edward Van Sloan's character, Dr. Muller, is quite analogous to his Dr. Van Helsing from the vampire film.

So, it comes to no surprise that I really, really look forward to Halloween.  I throw a 'pre-Halloween' Spooktacular party for all of the youngsters in my family.  This year: Bloody Fingers (lean franks in a bun), Cat's eyes (glowing yellow jigglers with a sliver of a red grape), goblin toes, bat cupcakes, and bubbling witches' brew. (Visit my Pinterest boards for more info).

This is why I penned my Fun & Sassy Fantasy series.  I wanted to have a good time.  And more importantly, I wanted my readers to share in the fun!  My next novella, "Bell, Book, and Gargoyle" is set in Hollywood.  And "Walk Like An Egyptian" plays homage to my favorite Universal Studio classic.

Since I reside in Southern California, I can spent a day or two at Universal Studios.  I'm sorry so that much of the back lot was destroyed in a fire several years ago.  However, the pond that doubled for a Louisiana swamp in The Mummy's Curse, and provided close-up scenes while filming The Creature from The Black Lagoon, is still part of the guided tour.

I hope you enjoy my current release: "Here Today, Zombie Tomorrow" #10 on this weekend's Holiday list of most downloaded free novels on Amazon.  I am also being interviewed by
 I.B. Nosey, reporter on October 30th (http://feelingnosey.blogspot.com).  Please to login and participate in the fun (I.B. did mention prizes).

And, in case you are wondering. . . yes, I do collect Monster High Dolls :-).  (I am still searching for the Zombie doll).

Please visit my website: www.novelsbyconnievines.com  or click on: http://about.me/ConnieVines

Happy Halloween to all of my readers,

Connie

In search of the Naga by Vijaya Schartz

My next novel in the Curse of the Lost Isle series, tentatively titled BELOVED CRUSADER, is scheduled for early 2015 from Books We Love. In that novel, the villain is a Naga. For this medieval fantasy romance, I needed a shape shifter to do the will of the Goddess, one that could attack on sacred ground.

I considered a Djinn, or a demon, but dismissed them as overused. Besides, demons cannot take human shape, and they cannot function on sacred ground. So I kept digging for something that would resonate with the serpent symbols of the Pagan beliefs of the time.

Then I remembered the strange bas-reliefs found in ancient temples in India, and the legends of the Naga. Although these are not depicted as legends, but as historical facts, according to these ancient texts. These looked very much like Melusine the Fae when her curse transforms her into an Ondine, once a month, and she becomes a serpent from the waist down.

Naga in India means python. The ancient Naga were a gentle people, half human and half serpent, who could take human form and travel between dimensions. But my research revealed that among them was once a male Naga who had a predilection for human females and bloody murder. So much so that he was forever banished. His name was Sadangula, and he is the villain of my next novel.

I like a good villain, and Sadangula certainly fits the profile. One wonders if such a creature did not inspire later descriptions of the devil.

So, look for a twisted shape shifter to wreak havoc among the Crusaders and threatening my heroine, in the next installment of the Curse of the Lost Isle series, BELOVED CRUSADER.

In the meantime, I'm having fun writing the story, and researching as I go, because no matter how much research I do in advance, I still research every detail as I go, because I think historical accuracy is foremost, even when writing medieval fantasy.

Wishing you a great Halloween. Have fun, and stay clear of Sadangula if you happen to meet him on the night when ghouls and demons roam the streets.

Vijaya Schartz
Romance with a Kick
http://www.vijayaschartz.com

Tricia McGill—there’s no place like home.

Or is there? 

It occurred to me lately that I live in a very confined area. I don’t drive distances as I once did, and tend to stay nearer home. A lot of this is due perhaps because the roads aren’t like they used to be in what us older people refer to as “the good ol’ days”. I’ve towed an 18 foot caravan around Australia when my husband had to give up driving after one of his early strokes, but as much as I would love to take off, and still envy folk who take to the highways and byways of this beautiful country I call home, I couldn’t stand the hectic pace on the roads these days.

My pondering came about after reading Sandy’s post of a day or so ago when I commented that if I returned to my hometown I’d be hard-pressed after so many years to find more than about six people apart from family and a few friends who would remember me. Of course my hometown was London and to be more specific Highbury in Nth London, which was no small town by any stretch of the imagination.

I then pondered on the fact that perhaps I am a homebody who likes to be in familiar places, but then I started to think about the places around the world I have visited and it occurred to me I’ve been quite a traveller in my time. 

My first trip in a plane was to San Sebastian in Spain. In those days a trip to anywhere in Europe was considered very extravagant. My sister was getting married at the end of that year and I was to be married soon after, so we took the opportunity to travel before settling down. While there we took a bus trip to Madrid, where we walked out of a bullfight in disgust after about half an hour. I guess we only expected all the grandeur of the parade and never considered the poor bull was going to die a slow death. I have to say here that we were told afterwards it was a very poor fight and the matador was not considered very good. We also went on a bus trip to a coastal resort in France. I can’t recall exactly where but do remember the horrendous drive where the driver seemed intent on killing us all, driving along mountain roads like a kamikaze pilot.

That's me on the right--at San Sebastian

 

After my marriage my husband and I drove every year to Devon or Cornwall. For anyone who knows that area of England my favorite places were Crantock or Lynton/Lynmouth. I expect both have changed considerably since the 60s.

Of course the biggest journey of all came when we migrated to Australia. We opted to come by sea, and sailed on the Fairstar, a recently refitted liner, in 1966. The sea trips from England to Australia were abandoned long ago, so we were very fortunate. It took exactly four weeks. Now when I refer to the Good Old Days you will understand what I mean when I tell you that along the way we went on a side trip to Cairo and the Pyramids at Giza. In those days ships traveled through what was then called The Suez Canal. We left the ship and stayed overnight in Cairo. Next morning we were up early and took a camel ride to the nearby pyramids. Then we visited the museum where the stand out was Tutankhamen's artifacts. Next we went by bus to Giza to see the Great Sphinx and pyramids. We met up with the ship again and continued on our journey. All this for 8 pounds sterling!

 

My husband went back to England about six times over the years, but I only returned once and that was in 1975. On the return trip we stayed overnight in Singapore. 

I’ve traveled extensively in Australia, been right around the coastline once, up the inland road to Darwin, over to the west a couple of times traveling across the Nullarbor Plain. I’ve stroked a dolphin in the sea at Monkey Mia in WA, visited Uluru in the red center, and swam in the warmest, clearest water you can imagine off the Great Barrier Reef, walked through magnificent rain forests, driven across unmade roads and along highways, seen a platypus swimming in his natural Tasmanian habitat, and emus and kangaroos running free.  I’ve been across to Tasmania more times than I can remember, sometimes by air and other times on the ferry. For years we towed a caravan—our preferred means of travel as we could then take our dogs along. My husband would have spent all his days on the road, but I was always glad to get home, to sleep in my own bed. 

A boab tree near Derby WA        

Silverton, near Broken Hill (Many movies have featured this pub and the walls are lined with the pictures of stars and celebrities)      

Strahan Tasmania (where we stayed in a haunted cottage--I swear I saw the ghost)

So, back to where I started, there is obviously no place like home for me. But then home is where the heart is. My early years were spent in a tenement house in Nth London where I was surrounded by love and had no idea that we were not rich. But after my mother passed away that ceased to be home so anywhere my husband and I were together was home. I will remain in this house until they carry me out. My heart is here.

Tricia McGill's books can be found on her Books We Love page:

http://bookswelove.net/mcgill.php

Or her web site:

www.triciamcgill.com