Celebrating the life of a furry little angel - by Vijaya Schartz

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I’ve always been in love with cats, and I can’t pass an adoption drive without looking at the cats.

I had lost a little part-Siamese I had for seventeen years, a few months before I saw Princess Jasmine for the first time. She was in a cage at Petsmart, and I noticed her right away. As I petted her and talked to her, I felt a connection with her… but the timing was wrong. So, I had to walk away… with regrets.

She was a young cat but no longer a kitten, and she had been through several surgeries after being mauled by her previous family dog while pregnant. After all her trials, her family chose the dog and abandoned her at the vet, who took her to a HALO no-kill shelter.

Two months later, I spotted Jasmine again during a special adoption drive at Petsmart. She still hadn’t been adopted despite her sunny personality. Her adoption fee had gone down, and this time I was in a position to adopt her. I took it as a sign that we must be destined for each other.

I took her to the house I shared with my now ex-husband. She enjoyed running in the backyard, chasing lizards, hunting bugs, and playing chicken with the chickens.

A few months later, afraid she might feel lonely, I adopted a kitten from a friend’s backyard litter, an adorable tuxedo we named Spunky for his fearless exploits.

Jasmine didn’t like him at all. She wanted the house to herself. But mainly Spunky liked my lap, her favorite place, and Jasmine didn’t like to share. So, she gave him the stink eye and kept her distance when he was near me.

 

One morning, as I was making the bed upstairs, Jasmine came up to me mewing and mewing. I could tell something was very wrong. She seemed to want me to follow her down the stairs, so I did. It was a beautiful day and the doors and windows were wide open. Jasmine took me to the front yard to the corner of the house, where a thick vine grew all the way to the top of the chimney.

And there, the reckless little kitten who had tried to climb the vine, was crying pitifully, out of strength, barely able to move, entangled so tightly in the vine, that I couldn’t free him with my bare hands. I had to get some cutters to cut the strands constricting his little belly.

Although Jasmine resented the kitten, she had come to get me when he was in trouble. Don’t tell me animals don’t have a soul. And there are angels among them. Jasmine was definitely an angel and saved this kitten’s life that day.

From then on, Spunky lost his spunk, and Jasmine became the alpha mama cat. Later on, we brought in a few occasional strays and abandoned kittens who needed a home. Jasmine never played with them but watched them play from the top of the stairs.

Spunky grew into a beautiful cat but didn’t stay with us very long. He had faulty genes and a neurologic condition (like his brother who remained with my friend and also died early). It’s sometimes the case with feral kittens. Bless his little soul.

Shortly after Spunky’s passing, my husband and I separated. Of course, I took my little princess Jasmine with me. She was happy from then on to be the only cat in the home, even if it was a small apartment without a yard. She could lie in my lap every night, and sleep on my bed, and demand tuna and get it from me every time. And she never had to share anything again, not her toys, not my lap, not my bed, not the food, not my affection.

She became a lazy fat cat that my friends called “well fed” so as to spare her feelings. But for the past year or so, Jasmine had been losing weight. At first, it seemed like a good thing, and she could move better, and jump on the bed again, to wake me up every morning before sunrise.

Her passing didn’t really come as a surprise, since she was sixteen and had a hard beginning, but I cry every time I see her in my mind, that cute little angel, sleeping with eyes open, unseeing, her soul already in a better place. My apartment feels empty without her. I miss her sorely. R.I.P. little angel.

When I’m ready to love again, I will adopt another cat, but first this pain has to heal.

In the meantime, Jasmine still lives in my books, as she was the inspiration for many of my cat characters, who, like her, are telepathic, and angelic in nature.

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Vijaya Schartz, award-winning author
Strong Heroines, Brave Heroes, cats
http://www.vijayaschartz.com

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Ah sweet love! —Tricia McGill

 

Find this and all my other books on my BWL Author page

While going back over long forgotten posts I came across one I wrote ages ago. Because I write Romances and am a glutton for happy ever after endings, of course I tend to look at life through those rose-tinted specs, even though I know that in real life only a small percentage of love affairs end in that happy ever after. 

Love comes in many guises of course. In my life I’ve known all about abiding love. The kind that comes with having a loving family around you—and the kind that comes with having true and trusted friends. Most importantly, the kind that comes with having a long and contented marriage with a steady, dependable man. My late husband was my best friend. He knew things about me no one else did, even my family—it was he who encouraged me to follow my dreams when I began to write. Each form of love brings a certain amount of heartache of course and has varying degrees of laughter and tears attached. I know I’ve been blessed, as some people know no love at all in their entire barren lifetime.

Let’s face it, love as sung about in most songs, is a fleeting and fragile thing. Where would Country or Pop singers have enough to write about without the heartache brought on by losing a lover. I likely chose romance as my choice of genre because of my smugness in having known such enduring love. True love as experienced by two people of whatever gender is a wonderful thing. Fate, Destiny, my Guardian Angel, call her what you will, has been more than kind to me. She’s always guided me to take the best and most rewarding fork in the road as I meander through these pathways of life. 

   

As for friends, I’ve been so lucky in my life as I’ve always had friends around me that I can depend on. I have friends back in England that I only hear from now and then, and some have been steady for many years. Friends have come and gone in different stages of my life. I have long-time friends who live interstate or up country that I catch up with rarely these days, but they still remain firm friends.

Some cynics say there is no such thing as a platonic friendship between a man and woman, but I personally think this not entirely true. Some of my best friends over the years have been male, and truth be told I have always liked the company of these platonic ones. I like how men’s minds work (well the part that is understandable to a mere female). They have such a different way of looking at life to us females—more uncomplicated I always feel. And they take such pleasure in the simple things—such as absconding to their shed or workroom to potter about for hours doing who knows what. They don’t care if the dishes are left in the sink or if the bed is unmade at three in the afternoon, there’s more important things in life.

Then there’s my super cyber friends—some of whom live in far flung corners of the world and I will never get to meet them face to face. But they are also constant, some having been a guide in helping me through varying parts of my writing career, providing assistance and advice that helped me on the way to becoming better at my craft. I’ve always considered myself a simple story-teller, following my heart rather than my head, but without the advice gained via this wonderful world of the internet where would any of us be today.

Canadian Lakes by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

 

https://books2read.com/Romancing-the-Klondike

 https://books2read.com/Rushing-the-Klondike

 https://www.bookswelove.com/donaldson-yarmey-joan/

Canadian Lakes

 I am a Canadian and all my mystery, historical, romance, and young adult novels are set in Canada. Canada is the second largest country in the world and has about 20% of the world’s freshwater. It also shares the world’s largest body of freshwater-the Great Lakes-with the United States. Lake Superior, Lake Huron, Lake Erie, Lake Ontario, are divided by the border while Lake Michigan is totally in the United States.

Nearly 14% of the world’s lakes over 500 sq km (193.05 sq mi) are within Canada’s borders. The largest lake totally within the country is Great Bear Lake in the Northwest Territories. It is the 4^th largest in North America and the 9^th largest in the world. The name comes from the Chipewyan word satudene which means ‘grizzly bear water people’.

Great Slave Lake, also in the Northwest Territories is the second largest freshwater lake in Canada and the 10^th largest on the Earth. With a depth of 614 metres (2,014 ft) it is the deepest lake in North America. It was named for the Dene, the first nation’s people who were called Slavey by the Cree first nations.

Lake Winnipeg, in Manitoba, is Canada’s third largest freshwater lake and has the largest watershed (the rivers that drain into a lake plus all the land with streams that drain into those rivers) in Canada. Its watershed is about 982,900 square kilometres (379,500 square miles) which is about 40 times its size. This ratio is the biggest of any other large lake in the world. Waters flow into Lake Winnipeg from the provinces of Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba and Ontario and from the states of North Dakota, South Dakota, Minnesota, and Montana making it the 11^th largest freshwater lake in the world.

Lake Athabasca sits on the northern border of the provinces of Alberta and Saskatchewan with 26% in Alberta and 74% in Saskatchewan. It is the fourth largest lake totally in Canada and waters from it flow northward through the Slave and Mackenzie river systems to the Arctic Ocean.

It is estimated that there are about 2 million lakes of various sizes in Canada and they make up about 9% of the country’s mass. This means that 891,163 square kilometres (344,080 sq mi) of Canada’s total area of 9.985 million square kilometres (3.8 million sq mi) is covered by freshwater.

 

Releasing and Promoting a Book by Victoria Chatham

AVAILABLE HERE

A major part of releasing a book is to promote it and then promote it more. I was happy to recently showcase Brides of Banff Springs and the Canadian Historical Brides Collection at Olds Municipal Library. When I contacted the Librarian about a booking, she was excited to offer me a date, which we arranged over the phone. We decided to have a meet and greet in the afternoon for people who might not be able to attend the evening reading and book signing session. This worked out very well as a lovely lady called Catherine came to meet me and told me that her mother had been the head housekeeper at Banff Springs Hotel. It was her job to open it up every spring along with the hotels at Lake Louise and Fairmount. I can't even begin to imagine how big a job that would have been. This lady also met King George VI and Queen Elizabeth (the late Queen's mother) when they visited Canada in 1939 and received a commemorative silver powder compact. I would love to have seen it, but I understood why Catherine wanted to keep it safe at home. Another young lady, who had already read the book, said her first job was in housekeeping at the hotel, and she could easily identify with Tilly, the heroine.

My table for the afternoon session was just inside the main entrance, so it was easy to talk to people as they came and went. Just in case a little extra is needed, a bowl of candies or quality chocolate is a good way to get people talking, and many admired the gift basket. The framed poster listing all the Historical Bride books also drew a lot of attention, with many visitors saying they did not know much of Canada's early history.

Nicole Peers, the Librarian, was not sure of numbers for the evening reading, but as people began to arrive, she quickly found more chairs to seat them. Before I started the reading, I presented Nicole with the gift basket, a thank-you to her and the staff for hosting me.

 

My author tagline is History, Mystery, and Love, so I picked three appropriate passages and read a bit of the history of Banff, the beginning of the mystery concerning the ghost bride and finally, the scene where the hero asks the heroine to marry him. The audience response was encouraging, with still more people wanting to talk afterwards about their experiences with Banff, having lived or worked there or been constant visitors. The funding from the Government of Canada helped make this a fun, exciting evening. Nicole said it was one of the best author evenings the Library had hosted, and I was only too happy to have been a part of it.

The first two images are from the author's collection.

The last two images are courtesy of  Ayesha Clough, Red Barn Books.

Victoria Chatham

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Skunks and aliens

 Readers familiar with my Whistling Pines cozy series know that quirky people and situations are regular plot components. I'm always on the hunt for a new plot or twist, and there's never a shortage of material. With a 2023 plot about arson in the works, I've been trying to keep the whirling ideas from congealing. Yes, my head is a swirling mass of plots, characters, and facts that mesh into a book. My tuba-playing friend and consultant, Brian, calls me billiard ball brain because he feels that the inside of my head must resemble a billiard table after the break, with ideas bouncing off each other like billiard balls until they come to rest in some pattern that becomes a plot.

It's wonderful to have tons of ideas, and a stream of plots coming from friends, readers, and the news. On the other hand, it's infuriating to be drafting a book when the billiard balls come to rest, demanding that I start a book outline and an opening chapter.

That happened today.

I'm about 75% though a first draft of Taxed to Death, a 2023 Pine County mystery, and my attention NEEDS to be on those final few chapters. 

My writing was interrupted when my wife pointed out hundreds of small holes (1" diameter) that had randomly dug in our yard. It was our personal mystery. Who, or what, had excavated the holes? They looked like a random aeration of the turf. There were no footprints. There was no indication of what had been removed. It was stuck in my mind. That new billiard ball started rolling.

I tried to ignore it, but I mentioned it to some friends during lunch and there was consensus that a family of skunks had been digging up grubs (larval June bugs), which are apparently a skunk delicacy.

Finding that solution plausible, I fired off an email to a number of people, hoping to find someone who would volunteer for skunk removal/relocation duty. My fist response was from an old friend who suggested that it was more likely that the holes had been dug by an alien lawn aerator. I replied that having weighed the probabilities (yes, I have taken a couple statistics courses) of skunks vs. aliens, I'd determined that the likelihood of the holes being created by aliens was somewhat more remote than my odds of winning the Powerball. His response was brief, "I can't reply. My aluminum foil hat is interfering with my WiFi reception."

A new billiard ball was in motion; a vision of people wearing foil-wrapped baseball caps to ward off the effects of cosmic rays. I know these ideas will come to rest and weave themselves together with some other craziness that will become a future Whistling Pines plot.

In the meanwhile, I suggest that you read Whistling Artist so that you're familiar with my protagonist Peter Rogers, the recreation director of the Whistling Pines Senior Residence, and the cast of colorful supporting characters from that series.

Hovey, Dean - BWL Publishing Inc. (bookswelove.com)

The Highs and Lows and Pina coladas of 2022, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

To purchase my novels, please click HERE

The year started out terrible with the loss of fellow BWL author, Kathy Pym. We were cyber friends for several years. I miss her gallows humor and good advice, her kindness, and for being the person I could talk to about anything. I was blessed to have her for my friend.

Shortly after that, still in January, I had to go for cataract surgery. My husband had to drive for nearly two hours to the doctor's surgery center, in the middle of nowhere. Now my right eye doesn't read as close-up as it used to. I need reading glasses. But as my oldest granddaughter sagely said. "Because you're a grandma."

Fast-forward to June, we drove to Nashville for a Nea Makri Greece reunion. My husband was stationed there from 1971-75; me from 1974-75. We married there in May of 1975. How young we look!

The heat in Nashville was sweltering, and we were camping. You couldn't even sit outside, the internet went bonkers, and sight-seeing was debatable. One of our RV connections melted. We bought portable, hand-held coolers for next time. We're prepared! 

Rafina, Greece harbor, just below Nea Makri

And it was great to meet up with former shipmates, or basemates. We even went to an air-conditioned winery with one lady and had a ball.

The following month, we had a small family reunion at hubby's niece's camp in Gettysburg. Again, the heat was sweltering. But we enjoyed the company. And hubs made his famous pina coladas. Yum.

In August, my oldest friend, we met at six and eight, came to visit for two weeks. An excuse to make hubs take us somewhere! A book festival, a wine concert, the Flight 93 memorial, beer tasting, wine tasting. We visited Old Economy Village near Pittsburgh, a village founded on strict and celibate behavior, waiting for the Rapture. No wonder they died out.

That's the tour guide with my husband.

 I loved to have Candy with me. My bestie forever.

The year started badly, but ended up much better. Of course in the world around me there were wars, and the turmoil of my own divisive country. I hope we can come together and heal most of the wounds. Happy 2023.

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty dachshund.

To find out more about her books: DianeScottLewis 

Food…for thought…..by Sheila Claydon

 

Find my books here

In the same way that many of my books have children in them, a lot of them mention food. Often it is merely a passing mention of a meal with maybe a sentence about the ingredients. A way of linking parts of the story. Two are different, however. The meals in Mending Jodie’s Heart and Miss Locatelli, although written differently, recall some of the most wonderful food I’ve ever eaten. 

Up in the hills of northern Tuscany, close to where  Michelangelo sourced the carrera marble for his  amazing  sculptures, there used to be a small family run restaurant. I don't know what it was called because there wasn’t a sign outside. Its reputation was by word of mouth. Nor do I know if it is still there. All I know is that I was lucky to be taken there by an Italian friend who had found it.

There was no choice, no fancy decor. Everyone was served the menu of the day sitting on benches at rough wooden tables. But what a menu.  Chicken liver pate with crostini. Wild boar with figs. Grilled summer vegetables. Homemade bread. Homemade honey cake. Bowls of fresh fruit and walnuts. Wine. And almost every ingredient either grown, or in the case of the meat, raised and then slaughtered by the family. Even the many herbs used in the cooking were picked in the surrounding fields. I’ve never forgotten it, nor the fact that one of the waitresses was a very enthusiastic nine year old girl, the youngest member of a very busy extended family. 

This all happened more than 25 years ago so there is every chance that modern life has taken over and the wonderful food replaced by something more instant, although I hope not. I hope, too, that the nine year old girl has taken over the family business and is still serving real food to those discerning customers who have managed to find such a treasure hidden away in the Tuscan hills.

Today, it is so easy to use our busy lifestyles as an excuse to buy instant meals and maybe even eat them while we watch one of the ubiquitous cookery programmes on TV,  but at what cost? As someone passionate about nutrition and real food I could depress you with facts about how so much of our food is processed and marketed today. I won't though. Instead I'll hark back to that wonderful meal and give you a real food recipe. The honey cake made by Elise, the young girl in Miss Locatelli. Easy to make. Delicious. 

And please don't throw your hands up in horror when you read the list of ingredients. Honey cake is not meant to be eaten in large quantities. It is a desert that can be eaten on its own. With coffee or a glass of white wine. Enjoyed with cream. Sprinkled with chopped almonds, or dusted with cinnamon or nutmeg. Apart from the wine, these are all things that will not only counteract the sweetness but which will also balance out sugars, preventing short term glucose spike in some people. This is made with real food, not ultra processed seed oils and cheap honey blended from different countries. Enjoy!

Tuscan honey cake

• half a cup of melted and cooled butter
• 1 cup + 2 tablespoons of locally grown honey
• 3 large free range eggs
• half a tsp of real vanilla extract (check the label)
• t tbsp cornstarch
• half tsp salt
• half tsp baking powder
• half tsp baking soda
• 1 3/4 cups of flour 
• half cup plain full cream yoghurt

• Spray and line a 9" cake tin and preheat the oven to 350F
• Whisk butter and honey until combined
• Beat in the eggs one at a time
• Add the vanilla extract
• Blend in the cornstarch, salt, baking powder and baking soda.
• Mix in the flour
• When everything is incorporated add the yoghurt and mix gently until combined
• Tip the batter into the cake tin and bake for 35 minutes 
• Leave for 10 minutes before turning onto a rack to cool completely
• Sprinkle with chopped almonds or dust with cinnamon or any other flavouring of choice

Serve with whipped double cream and a drizzle of extra honey if you wish.

Slicing and storing in the freezer is the best way to prevent the overindulgence of eating all of it in one or two sittings. It also means you have a desert ready to be gently restored to room temperature when you want a sweet treat.

I realise, of course, that real food costs more. Locally grown honey is a lot more expensive that those huge jars of blended honey, much of which comes from China. Battery farmed eggs are a lot cheaper than free range. Real vanilla extract is not only difficult to find but costs a lot more than that found in most grocery stores. Even plain full fat yoghurt can be more expensive but unless you use this and not a low fat (full of added sugar) version, the honey cake flavour will not be authentic. In fact I'm not even sure if it would work the same.

There are many, many Italian recipes online. A lot of them, while undoubtedly still delicious, are versions of the real thing, in the same way that pizza, world wide, is nothing like real Italian pizza. However there is one thing that we can all do to keep us as close to the Italian way of cooking as possible, and that is to use quality ingredients, free range, locally grown, the best we can afford. That is what the Italians who live in the Tuscan hills do. Difficult I know. Not always possible, but well worth it when it is. 

Enjoy!

Is it Winter if it's 70 degrees outside?

 

Windmaster by Helen Henderson
Click the title for purchase information

 

The holiday specials are over and the decorations are packed away. A new year has begun full of promise. And with it comes a lot of questions. Should I pledge to lose fourty pounds? No! I don't want to set myself up for failure. But I will return to the Rock Steady Therapy Program as a volunteer. Maybe I should rearrange furniture or find a place for everything that was disrupted by the holidays.

A risk of cleaning out is deciding to toss something,
then changing your mind.

The decision has been made. Cleaning out for a more minimalist home is a goal for the year. The house looks neater, just don't open certain closet doors as they haven't been worked on yet. The year is young and there is plenty of time to sort, repack, and donate unused things from the back of the closets.

Cold weather and a rare white Christmas for this southerly part of the state fueled an urge to donate unused clothing and books, and recycle dead electronics. However. Mother Nature can be fickle. The temperature hit 70 degrees effectively ending the enthusiasm. The warm weather lasted for a week. Now it has decided to become a ping-pong game. High 60 degrees one day, and then below-freezing nights with daytime highs of only 35 or 40 make for a crazy time. Is it really winter when it is 70 degrees outside? 

This (snow melted the next day) or
that (days of shovelling)?

Don't miss winter in my northern home.
The amount of snowfall wasn't that large in terms of inches, but after plowing and drifting, the end result demanded tossing shovel fulls over your head.

A question heard recently while experiencing a deluge was, "At least is isn't snow." The speaker watching water rush down her street didn't understand why someone might be against snow. The above image is an explanation. And it isn't just moving the pile once or twice, or even three times. At one point, you may get so tired of the town plowing snow back into the driveway that you stand at the end of the driveway so that they don't push the entire street's worth of snow where you just shoveled.

Winter at a favorite writing spot.
At night, snowmobilers made donuts out on the ice.

In my fantasies, I like to use weather. Snow can be an effective setting. Lady Ellspeth and Lord Dal experienced a freezing trip through the mountains before taking refuge in a cavern in Windmaster.

To purchase the Windmaster Novels: BWL

~Until next month, stay safe and read. 

 

Helen Henderson lives in western Tennessee with her husband. While she doesn’t have any pets in residence at the moment, she often visits a husky who have adopted her as one the pack. Find out more about her and her novels on her BWL author page.

 

One of My Favourite Hobbies by Nancy M Bell

To find more information for Nancy's books click on the cover

I have a few hobbies, anyone who knows me will know horses are a huge part of my life. They have been my sanity, my salvation and my love from a very young age. I also am involved in animal rescue and fostering for a Calgary animal rescue. But on top of that I love to do cross stitch. I have a pile of framed cross stitch projects as a result of the Covid winters. There's something so engrossing about matching the pattern to the threads and seeing the picture come to life in all that glorious colour. It takes my mind off any problems that may be occurring in my life or stresses that are so much a part of everyday life in this day and age. While my husband watches TV shows or sports I can sit happily and listen with one ear while still paying total attention to the project taking shape on my embroidery hoop. 

My subject matter is varied, sometimes Celtic knot patterns, horses, bunnies an tulips, some poppies and even a red dragon. Currently, I am almost finished with a fawn standing in tangled grasses under autumn trees. Once that is done I am hoping to embark on a huge project, much more complicated than what I've done before. It's a standing stone with a raven sitting on top which measures 21.64 inches by 28.57 inches and involves many colours that are very similar to each other. A challenge for sure.   Wish me luck!

This is the start of a Wysoki pattern  Frederick the Literate 

 

 

 

  

 

File Cabinet Treasures by Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #file cabinet #treasures #Partials

  

 The time had come to look into the file cabinet to see what filled several dozen folders. I needed a new book to write and my mind wasn't running to what was sought. I pulled a stack of folders and carried them to mmy study. In the first pile I removed, I found two partial manuscripts. One was a Regency and the other was called Home Caring, a medical romance. As I studied the pages, I began to wonder. Where had this come from and why was this only a partial manuscript.

Much thought later. I remembered how the story came about and how it had been abandoned. I'd published a book with a NY publisher in an older romance series. That book did very well with a nice advance and a royalty or two. I had started Home Caring to add to the series. Except, that line was ended and I had no idea what to do with the story. This was before I encountered electronic publishing. I set that manuscript aside and went on to write other nurse/doctor romances for another publisher who refused all of them. Then I discovered electronic publishing and was busy sending out a volume of manuscripts to several publishers. Home Caring rested in the drawer.

The second thing was, I had no idea why I'd started the Regency or why i stopped writing. Perhaps I'll look at it again since it's acompanion to Gemstones. There are still more things in those files that I'll look at another time. 

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Is it an 'Eww' or an 'Aww,' by J.C. Kavanagh

 

A Bright Darkness,
Book 3 of the award-winning Twisted Climb series

I recently found the tooth fairy pillow that my 'other' mother, Eva, made several decades ago for my first-born. Eva loved crafts and was always keeping herself busy with knitting or sewing or discovering a 'new' craft she hadn't mastered. No 'idle hands' as Karla Stover wrote in a recent BWL blog.  

But back to the tooth fairy pillow. My beautiful first-born child, Miriam, her family and Zeus the Airedale-terrier, came for Christmas. Such a delightful time we had! After opening our gifts, I waited for just the right moment to resurrect it. I made a grand entrance and then presented the wee pillow as if it were a priceless treasure. "This was your mom's tooth fairy pillow," I explained.

"Awww," was the initial reaction from my two granddaughters.

Tooth Fairy pillow, made with love by my 'other' mother, Eva

The positive reaction was quickly replaced with an "ewww" when the girls pulled out the pocket's contents.

My daughter's baby teeth

"Eww! Why are you saving these?" the girls cried out. My daughter's face also echoed the question.

I thought quickly. "Perhaps for a necklace or bracelet?"

The 'ewws' got louder and more boisterous.

I guess that's a big, fat NO for teeth jewellery, I thought.

I tucked the tiny teeth back into the pocket. It seemed I was the only one having the 'awww' reaction. Truth is, I had forgotten the teeth were still saved in the little pocket.

But an Instagram post has given me a great idea on how to best use those pearly whites.

Yes, a creative father hand-carved various animals that he felt represented the personalities of his adult children. He then inserted the baby teeth. Is that not the best gag gift ever?

Just wait till next Christmas. 

But don't wait till next Christmas to read A Bright Darkness, Book 3 of the award-winning Twisted Climb series. Available now at your favourite book retailer!

J.C. Kavanagh, author of 

A Bright Darkness, Book 3 of The Twisted Climb series

AND

The Twisted Climb - Darkness Descends (Book 2) 

voted BEST Young Adult Book 2018, Critters Readers Poll and Best YA Book FINALIST at The Word Guild, Canada 

AND 

The Twisted Climb, 

voted BEST Young Adult Book 2016, P&E Readers Poll 

Voted Best Local Author, Simcoe County, Ontario, 2022 

Novels for teens, young adults and adults young at heart 

Email: author.j.c.kavanagh@gmail.com 

www.facebook.com/J.C.Kavanagh 

www.amazon.com/author/jckavanagh 

Twitter @JCKavanagh1 (Author J.C. Kavanagh) 

Instagram @authorjckavanagh