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About It Hurts Every Time:

“Death is not the end, sir,

No, sir, not the end of the line,

Just remember what I say to you;

It hurts, baby,

It hurts every time.”

Pluto Garcia is a lieutenant in the Community Militia of Morrisette, a post-communist city-state where a miracle drug has advanced enough to allow the dying a second chance at life by launching them into the nearest available universe in which they are still alive.

In his latest incarnation, Pluto is tasked with investigating the death of Krishna Klein, a brilliant but troubled philanthropist who has been found with a bullet in his head following a week-long bender. With the aid of his assigned partner, Esther Dupont, Pluto uncovers a techno-fascistic plot to plunge the flawed Utopia of Morrissette into authoritarian control once and for all.

October is National Pumpkin month, but we think such a beautiful fruit should get more than just one month of notoriety. So smile, say cheese, and make your own yummy appetizer for Halloween or any holiday get-together.

Cheese Ball Pumpkin

2 8-ounce packages cream cheese
4 ounces crumbled feta or blue cheese
4 ounces shredded sharp cheddar or pepper jack cheese
2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. prepared mustard
½ tsp. onion powder
Paprika
The stem of a green bell pepper

Place all the cheeses in a large bowl and let soften to room temperature.

When cheese is soft, add Worcestershire and mustard. Blend with electric mixer or food processor on low speed. Scrape bowl and beat blended mixture on medium speed 1 or 2 minutes more until well mixed (do not over-beat).

Turn the mix onto plastic wrap. Pull the wrap up and secure with a twist tie. Shape the wrapped mixture into a ball. Score the pumpkin “ribs” onto the cheese ball with your fingertip or a flat knife.

With the plastic in place, set the cheese ball in a bowl and refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight.

Before serving, sprinkle with paprika and add a bell pepper stem to top.

Keep refrigerated until the crowd arrives, then serve with assorted crackers.

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

Since it’s the Canadian Thanksgiving today, I thought I’d
make it all about my readers! Yay! Authors wouldn’t be anywhere without their
readers, so me being me, I thought it would be fun to share what I think my
readers would want to know about me, on this day of gratitude in Canada. Sending my readers a BIG thanks for hanging out with me, one book at a time. I appreciate you!

I want my readers to
know something personal about me…

My sense of humor is my super power. Whenever
I connect with people, I try to make them laugh, smile, or uplift them. I’m also an empath. Yeah, I feel you. Wink. I also love
exploring anything arcane, attracted to unsolved mysteries, and enjoy single
malt scotch.

I want my readers to
know something about me as a writer…

Whatever I
write is my journey—from seed idea to
finished product—and all that’s happened in between. It’s the way I serve you,
my readers. I want to deliver the best possible story I’ve got in me, while
entertaining and inspiring my audience at the same time. In a nutshell, I want you
to feel my journey through my
characters’ stories.

 I want my readers to
know where my motivation to write began…

I had an
over-active imagination in school, and found it hard to concentrate on mundane
subjects. I often drifted off into the land of story-making until the teacher
called out my name. Yeah. I wouldn’t advise that. As I grew older I never
thought I could channel those stories into something as concrete as a book, but
one evening almost thirty years ago, I was inspired to do so by a deep,
spiritual desire that whispered into my ear, ‘You can write’. True story. Now with six books and two series on
the go, I’m glad I listened to that Divine voice, and haven’t looked back.

I want my readers to
know the grand purpose I have for my work…

The young adult genre is my calling card, and
I play in the realms of fantasy and supernatural. I’ve got two YA series on the
go. I’ve
planned for a total of ten books, plus the prequel for The Last Timekeepers
time travel adventure series. So far, I have four books in this series
published. For my Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls teen psychic mystery
series, there are five books planned, two of which are already published.
Currently, I’m working on the third book in this series, so as you can gather,
I’ll be one busy gal for years to come.

I’ve learned never to rush the story. Even when you’re writing a series, each book
has something to say in its own time, and that every book has a soul and
purpose. So I step aside, and allow the story’s own unique voice to develop.
After all, every author has their own unique voice too.

I want my readers to
have a sneak peek of my work-in-process…

Presently,
I’m working on the third installment of Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls, and
is titled Sticks and Stones. It’s
coming along great, and should be out sometime in 2024, if all goes well. Here’s
the premise:

From an early age, Thane Berg found out that he can
bend spoons when angered, then bend them back when calm. He has never told
anyone about his psychic ability which has gotten stronger as he ages. Now
fourteen-years-old, Thane is forced to live with his estranged father while his
journalist mother goes off on an extended business trip around the world. To
make matters worse, Thane must also start over in a new school—Fairy Falls High
School—leaving his familiar life behind.

Trying to juggle high school, feelings for his father,
paranormal lessons from an eccentric neighbor, hiding his psychokinetic
abilities from his new friends, and steering clear from the school bully is no
easy feat for Thane. In fact, it’s damned impossible most days.

Then, when Thane and his three classmates chance upon
a huge illegal marijuana grow-op, things really start to get complicated. Thane
is put to the test and must use his unique psychic powers to save his friends
and himself from an uncertain future, and bring about a just outcome.  

I want my readers to
know the dreams I have in my writing life for the future…

I would love to reach
readers on an international scale. In other words, acquire a foreign rights
agent to broker a deal with publishers from other countries in order to get my
books translated into different languages. I also want to convert my books into
audiobooks in the near future to make them more accessible on a grander scale.
That said, what author wouldn’t dream of having a movie made from their book?
Present company included. Living the dream!

I want readers to know my personal motto that keeps
me going…

Slow and steady progress assures success.

Lastly, I want my readers to know the sage
advice I’ve picked up on my journey along the road less traveled…

I’ve learned that a career in publishing is a dedicated path. There’s no
short cut to fame or fortune, if you’re even lucky enough to get decently paid
for your craft. However, seeing the finished product in my hands is an
amazing feeling, and one that I’ll never tire of. So, whatever your heart calls
you to do, jump in, enjoy, and be amazed at where it will lead you. Trust me,
it’s so worth the journey!

We’re from the South so my family loves corn bread stuffing with a variety
of meals. Below is our family’s favorite recipe that is only served at
Thanksgiving. Make your holiday dinner complete by serving giblet gravy with sliced
turkey and cranberry sauce, steamed broccoli, and dinner rolls. Don’t forget
the pumpkin pie with dollop of whipped cream for dessert! 

Corn Bread Stuffing

Preheat oven 350° F. 

Bake corn bread mix
according to box directions.  Allow to
cool then crumble. 

Melt butter in a medium
size frying pan. Sauté celery and onion to opaque stage, about 7 minutes. 

Combine all ingredients
in bowl. Turn mixture into a greased pan. 

Bake 30 minutes. 

Place walnuts on top for garnish. 

Happy Thanksgiving,

Emma and Family

Here is a brief intro to the cozy mystery series Emma writes.

MURDER in the JUNKYARD sees the demise of a man no one likes, a romance, and plans for a wedding as Detective Fowler and his friends keep their small-town America free from danger.

Detective Kevin Fowler is furious that low life has targeted his town where people live in blissful safety. Brenda Bryant is out junkn’ for good things when she stumbles over the grotesque body of a man beloved by no one. Suspense heats up when large sums of money are found in two different places. Drug money is suspected and Brenda targeted by someone who wants the money returned. Detective Fowler faces surprise after surprise as he peels back the surface of Hubbard, New York and deals with its shocking underbelly. Meanwhile romance infiltrates the group of friends with a wedding in the making.

AMAZON BUY LINK

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

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

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

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

When I
was a high school teacher, I learned many young ladies were uncomfortable talking about their accomplishments. Part of my job was to encourage my students to think
about the future. When it came to resume writing, I’d say, “What are you good
at? What have you accomplished that you’re proud of?”

Often,
I’d be met with blank stares, which was understandable because they were just
kids. Still, I’d press on. “When you choose a career, it’s important to think
about what you like to do, what you’re good at, and what someone will pay you
to do.”

When
the conversation stalled, I pointed out some of my own accomplishments.
“When I was your age, I discovered I had a good speaking and singing voice, so
I performed in a lot of plays. And I really enjoyed sports. I was an ice dancer
and I loved swimming and skiing and watching ice hockey. Eventually, these
things put me on a path to becoming a TV sportscaster.”

“Your
bragging, Ms. Montgomery,” some child would blurt out. Others around the
room—mostly girls—would nod their heads.

“So,
you don’t think it’s right to talk about your accomplishments?”

“No!” a
chorus of them would answer.

In the business world, the inability to discuss our successes
is holding women back.

Then,
I’d point at a boy who played sports. “How’d your game go? Which would lead the
young man on a tangent about how well he’d preformed on the gridiron.
Strangely, when I’d ask female athletes the same question, the response was
rarely positive. “I could have done better,” one would say. “I missed an
important free throw,” another might add.

Bragging,
it turns out, is a habitat peopled mostly by males. A young man can walk into a
job interview and wax on about his accomplishments, while women of all age
groups seem to feel they must be demure, that identifying their skills and
successes is unladylike and casts them in a bad light.

A
perfect example is the way many women handle compliments. When someone says
something nice about our appearance or a job well done, lots of us stare at the
floor, or point out something we did wrong, or give credit to someone else in
order to counter the accolade.  And this is a problem.

Just smile and say “Thank you!” when you receive a compliment.

I think
denying our successes holds us back, especially in the business world where
self-confidence and life experience say a lot about who we are and what we
might be capable of in the future. Take participating in sports, for example.
Business owners are delighted to hire those who’ve been on teams. They know
athletes understand punctuality, working with others toward a common goal,
following rules, and getting back up when you’ve been knocked down. (Note here
that championships and won-loss records are not relevant. Just participating is
all that’s important.) And let’s not forget those other “team players”: young
people who’ve participated in choir, marching band, theater, debate, and other
activities that are equally favored by many human resources departments. But
those doing the hiring will not know about a person’s past if the applicant is
unwilling to share the information, so it’s important that people speak up.
That’s not bragging. It’s smart!

Today,
I don’t hesitate to share stories about my past and the things I’ve experienced
and exceeded at. And I’ve learned to accept compliments with a smile and
hearty, “Thank you!” It was a bit uncomfortable at first, but now it feels
great.

Don’t believe me, ladies?
Just give it a try.

Please allow me to give you a brief intro to my latest women’s fiction novel for your reading pleasure.

The past and present collide when a tenacious reporter seeks information on an eleventh century magician…and uncovers more than she bargained for.

Anne Montgomery has worked as a television sportscaster, newspaper and magazine writer, teacher, amateur baseball umpire, and high school football referee. She worked at WRBL‐TV in Columbus, Georgia, WROC‐TV in Rochester, New York, KTSP‐TV in Phoenix, Arizona, ESPN in Bristol, Connecticut, where she anchored the Emmy and ACE award‐winning SportsCenter, and ASPN-TV as the studio host for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns. Montgomery has been a freelance and staff writer for six publications, writing sports, features, movie reviews, and archeological pieces.

When she can, Anne indulges in her passions: rock collecting, scuba diving, football refereeing, and playing her guitar.

Learn more about Anne Montgomery on her website and Wikipedia. Stay connected on Facebook, Linkedin, and Twitter.

HALLULAH! Cast-iron cooking is
back on the burner of the world’s kitchens, its barbeque pits, and its campsite
fires—and nothing fries up more delectably in the iconic cooker than green
apples, or apples of any color, and even peaches. 

Dating back to the 18th
century, apple and peach orchards have been a constant feature of farm-life of
my American ancestors, and of my European forebears, I imagine. Apples picked
right off the tree or hauled topside from underground cellars and fried up in
an iron skillet, a vessel that was passed down from mother to daughter, has
been a staple of my family through those generations and to the present. Store-bought
fruit will do, too, of course.  

Over low heat, melt butter in a
large cast-iron or heavy ovenproof skillet. Add apples and ½ cup sugar. Mix
well, cover, and cook 20 minutes or until apples are fork tender. Stir
frequently. 

Add optional cinnamon),
remaining sugar, apple juice, vanilla extract, and peach slices. Cover and cook
for another 10 to 15 minutes over medium heat.   

Serve with iron-skillet gravy and country biscuits
at main meals, or with vanilla ice cream for dessert. 

The following is an excerpt of GUARDIANS AND OTHER ANGELS, my book of
historical fiction blended with my family’s actual story. The selection depicts
an amusing, true incident involving apples and my mother Roma before she was my
mother. A delicious recipe for fried apples and peaches rounds out this posting.
Enjoy! 

One of the most enchanting
features of the farm was its peach and apple orchard. Disregarding the fact that
green apples gave Roma the “runs,” and convincing herself that she would get
away with it that time, in a fit of gluttony, she set about one hot summer
morning to stuff her belly full of the sweet green teasers. Predictably, later
in the day, she found herself in dire need of visiting the “path” as this
family called their outhouse, whereupon she sat, for long intervals of time,
for several visits in a row. 

This was back in the day before
fluffy white “Charmin” or any other machine-perforated-roll-perfectly-into-your-hand
toilet paper came on the scene; these were the days when pages from magazines,
newspapers, and the Sears & Roebuck catalog were special favorites for
cleaning the backside. And when paper products ran out, corncobs would do. 

This day, Sears & Roebuck
were on duty, and Roma, having gone through a good portion of the catalog,
pulled up her underpants, and confident her ordeal was finally behind her, pun
intended, proceeded to walk to the back door of the house, the door opening
onto the kitchen. She lighted into her piled-up kitchen chores, working away
uninterrupted for an hour or more, enjoying that peculiar euphoria that comes
to one with the release of all the toxins in one’s body, when she realized that
the house was unusually quiet, a phenomenon never occurring in that
filled-to-human-capacity household. Taking a mere glancing note of it, she
continued to sweep away, when out of the distance she thought she heard what
sounded like a snicker. She hesitated for a moment, listened, but when all was
quiet again, she fell back into the rhythm of her swishing broom. But suddenly,
there it was again – a snicker, then two, then three. She realized she had
company in the room. She turned to look, and there they all were, all nine
members of her family, snickering and pointing at her backside. Horrified, she
realized what was the matter, and twisting her head to get a gander at her
backside. 

Like a dog chasing its own
tail, Roma took off spinning around and around in the middle of the kitchen,
howling like a dog, and flapping her hand at the offending article protruding
from her underpants. In her haste to vacate the outhouse, the tail of her dress
had caught in the waistband of her bloomers, and with it, a page from the Sears
& Roebuck catalog also had fastened itself there, the page waving like a
flag flapping in the breeze and ironically hailing its vivid advertisement of women
underpanties.

Available in paperback and in eBook on
Amazon