Music

My most recent book, ABRA CADAVER, has a Celtic flavor. The hero, Keane Malson, is a cursed Celtic warrior who spends his days bringing people back from the dead, killing demons to keep his saves alive, and staying with his saves until they do something important for the world. His life is boring, tedious, and stuck. He would much rather have died an honorable death on the battlefield surrounded by his men, but his brother sought the help of a witch to bring him back to life. As with all magic, you must be prepared to give back after you take. There must always be a balance. And so, poor Keane gets cursed with the abra cadaver and now faces an eternity of saving, killing, and waiting.

Until he meets schoolteacher Holly Brimmer.

When I was writing ABRA CADAVER, I listened to a great deal of Celtic, Scottish, and medieval music. I thought I would share some of my favorites with you so you could enjoy them as well. I find that music really inspires me. It allows me to drown out the day-to-day distractions that would otherwise keep me from writing. When the headphones are on, that means the author is at work!

Click on anyone of the band titles to be taken to their websites to listen to their work.

1. Medieval Baebes – Classy, beautifully, and just a little Wiccan.

<!--[endif]-->

2. Albannach – Scottish music goes punk, and they wear kilts!

<!--[endif]-->

3. Rune – A band local to my area

These are just a few, but enough to give you a good sampling. My suggestion: Type these into Pandora.com and find more bands that sound similar. You’ll be entertained for hours and maybe want to write a little something yourself.

<!--[endif]-->

Read Holly and Keane’s tale by purchasing ABRA CADAVER at the following locations:

The Wild Rose Press

Amazon Kindle

Barnes & Noble Nook

Christine

www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com

My Red Cross moment

In 1991, the Spousal Unit and I decided to move from Pittsburgh to Minneapolis. That move is a saga unto itself, complete with lost cats, motels from hell, getting loss on the Dan Ryan in Chicago at rush hour, and a blown tire on the U-Haul. And that was all just the first 3 days of moving.

Anyway, we managed to get him moved in early June (with the cats), into a one bedroom apartment at a large complex. We were going to stay there until we could house hunt and find a new home. I then returned to Pittsburgh to wrap up the sale of the house and finish up some work. The moving van came on July 3 and took our Stuff, and I was left for a week sleeping on an air bed with no other furniture except a clip-on lamp and a tiny portable TV.

A week later, I arrived in Mpls to begin the new life. We settled into our cozy little apartment with three cats. Yes, cozy. The building we were in had 9 units, 6 that faced the garages, 6 that faced front. We faced the garage where our belongings were stored. Rather than pay a storage unit fee, we just stuffed everything into a garage. This is a pertinent fact for what happens later.

A week after I got in town, DH and I were out roller skating, came home about 7 PM and found fire trucks surrounding our apartment building. The top 3rd floor unit above ours was blazing away. We were on the ground floor. We could see our cats, pressed against the patio door, their eyes as big as saucers. Alarms were screaming, water was pouring into the building, and flames were shooting out. And my cats were inside.

I begged to go in and get them. Nope. No one allowed in. I pleaded. "They're right there. I can get them!" Nope. I have never felt so helpless, so angry, so worried.

After an hour or so, the blaze was under control. Another hour and the firemen told us we had 10 minutes to get into our apartments, grab what we wanted, then we had to leave. We raced inside. Water was about 3" deep and still gushing out of light sockets. Our cats literally ran to meet us, leapt into our arms, and clung to us. We stuffed them into cages, grabbed a litter box and cat food, tossed some clothes in a bag, grabbed our Important Papers, and got outside.

To what? We had 3 cats, and a car. It was now 10 at night and we had nowhere to stay. We'd been in town about 4 weeks. Didn't know anyone well enough to ask them to take in us and our pets.

That's when the Red Cross came through. We were then living in a far western suburb, mostly undeveloped (this was before Eden Prairie became 'civilized'). There was one motel, and they did not take pets. Well, the RC bullied the proprietor into taking us in. He had signed a deal with the RC to help out, and by God, he was going to help out. They gave us emergency supplies (toothbrush, shampoo, etc.) and one volunteer put us in touch with a vet, who made a motel-call to check the cats FOR FREE. God love him.

The next day we had to figure out where to live. We had 3 days paid in the motel and after that, we would be kicked out. To make a long story short, we ended up renting another unit in the apartment complex which was far, far more expensive because we had things in storage there and thus, we couldn't leave -- we had to stay at the complex or move our stuff.

So I supervised a move to another unit (DH had just started a new job and couldn't help). We ended up staying there 2 months, then bought a house right before the Halloween Blizzard when we got 3' of snow in 24 hours. We stayed there 8 months, then moved again. So I moved 4 times that year. And that's the move where my husband was in England, so I had to ...

Well, that's a story for another time. Suffice it to say, I support the Red Cross to this day because they came through for us, as they do for so many people. 

Women as Secret Weapons

We’re all familiar with the photo to our left. “Rosie the Riveter” was one of the weapons of World War II. While our men were off fighting, women back home left their kitchens and worked traditionally male jobs in factories. But there were “Secret Rosies,” too. And the more I read about them, the more I’ve come to respect their unheralded contribution to the war effort.

In 1942, a secret US military program was launched to recruit women to the war effort—female mathematicians who would become human “computers” for the army. The Rosies in the factories made the weapons; the female computers, the Secret Rosies, made them accurate.

These women worked in top-secret areas, which made it difficult for their actions to be publicized. One of the most significant areas of contribution was in mathematics. Large numbers of women trained in mathematics were recruited to do highly classified work in computing gunnery tables.

They did what we now would call number crunching and were largely unheralded, but their work was perhaps even more groundbreaking than those that used their muscles and were immortalized as Rosies, for it demonstrated that women were the intellectual equals of men, capable of being logical and precise.

Don’t ya love it?

In today's world we think of a computer as a thing, but back in World War II a computer was a person, and in many cases it was a woman.

My journey into awareness of these computers started with Ben, a World War II pilot, who sometimes comes to me at night, whispering to me about his girlfriend, Pearl, and would I tell her story. (No, I am not nuts, this is how my mind works. Or as Calvin would say, “I’m wired differently.”) When I asked Ben what made his Pearl so special, he just smiled and told me it was a secret.

What secret?

 

One night Calvin downstreamed a video from Netflix about female computers. We were only 5 minutes into watching this PBS documentary made by Professor LeAnn Erickson when the gears clicked in my mind. Possibilities meshed. My heart rate kicked up. Ben’s Pearl was one of those computers! Not really, but don’t we often take a historical fact and run with it to create our stories? Thus, my research of those fascinating women began.

When the war ended, a small group of those women went on to be the first programmers of the original ENIAC computer, as well as the next generation of computers.

 

Unfortunately, once they did their initial work, they were ignored, not even receiving invitations to attend the party celebrating the initial success of the machine. So, what else is new? Their story is told in great detail in this video, which consists of images, newsreel video, narration and interviews with the women that did the job. The women clearly loved their work, deriving satisfaction from having made a significant contribution to the war effort as well as helping make technical breakthroughs.

 

Wouldn’t this story be of enormous value in courses in women’s studies, the history of computing and technology, the history of World War II, and the history of mathematics?

 

It is hard to overstate the significance of the contribution of these women to the Allied victory in World War II, a fact that few people are aware of. Lipstick wearing computers who left home and traveled to strange cities to use their brain power to help win the war. Female pioneers we can all take pride in. Thank you, “Secret Rosies.”

MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH ROSES - MARGARET TANNER

Roses are my favourite flower. My husband thinks I am obsessed with them.  I always wear rose perfume, Bush Rose, Musk Rose. The Yardley (English company) Rose is a lovely perfume, as sweet and fragrant as its name sake.
I have to confess that my garden is full of roses. Hubby hates them with a passion because he thinks they deliberately jump out and stick their thorns into him.
I love old fashioned roses the best. They may not be quite as colourful as the modern day varieties, but they always have a gorgeous perfume.  Just Joey, a beautiful large bloomed orange rose with a delightful perfume is one of my favourites.  Another favourite is a blood red rose named Oklahoma, the perfume is as heady as wine.
It amazes me how often I seem to put a flower in the title of my romance novels, or describe garden scenes. It must have been an instinctive thing because I don’t recall actively trying to do this.

One of my published novels was titled The English Rose.  It has, after a re-write, been released by The Wild Rose Press (TWRP) as Frontier Wife. Holly And The Millionaire is another novel from TWRP. The heroine, Holly has a daughter called Lilly. Daphne is the name of my heroine in The Trouble With Playboys from TWRP. I have also written a short story, Call Of The Apple Blossom.  Can you see a pattern here?

          
 Whiskey Creek Press, previously published Savage Utopia and its sequel Stolen Birthright singularly, but have recently re-released them in a 2 for 1 e-book, which is available from Whiskey creek Press and Amazon Kindle.  No flower scenes in these two stories.

SAVAGE UTOPIA

On board the convict ship taking them to the penal colony of Australia, Maryanne Watson and Jake Smith meet and fall in love, but Jake hides a terrible secret that will take him to the gallows if it ever comes out.
On arrival in Sydney the lovers are separated. Maryanne is sent to work for the lecherous Captain Fitzhugh. After he attacks her she flees into the wilderness and eventually meets up with Jake who has escaped from a chain gang.  They set up home in a hidden valley and Maryanne falls pregnant.  Will Jake come out of hiding to protect his fledgling family? And how can love triumph over such crushing odds?

STOLEN BIRTHRIGHT

Can an English aristocrat ever hope to marry the daughter of convicts?
Georgina, a wild colonial girl, is brought up by O’Rourke, a rough and ready Irishman who she believes is her uncle. While helping the bushranger Johnny Dawson escape from prison she meets and falls in love with a dashing young English aristocrat, the Honourable Marcus Lindquist.
When Johnny Dawson is ambushed and killed, Marcus finally learns the secret of what has bound the young outlaw to Georgina. Meanwhile, twelve thousand miles across the sea, Marcus’ Godfather, is plotting Georgina’s death to keep his dark secrets from ever seeing the light of day.

http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=982

Start Gardening With Something Dead and You Won't Be Disappointed

Laura Breck

We live in a condo downtown, but we have a little dirt area surrounding our patio where we have plants. When we moved it, it was filled with a grungy collection of scratchy, overgrown perennial bushes that baffled me.

A few years ago, one of our neighbors suggested we rip it all out and start a rock garden. We tugged out the miscellaneous shrubberies and offered them to friends who have much more room for bushes.

We drove our SUV to the local landscape nursery and weighed in. (You drive onto a huge scale as you enter and they record the weight of your vehicle.) We spent hours cruising through the rock section. It's amazing how many different kinds of rocks there are for landscaping. We chose a stratified red and brown rock and spent another hour picking through the pile for just the right chunks. (Yes, we brought gloves, thankfully.)



The rock we chose is evidently very upscale as well as very heavy because when we re-weighed the truck on the way out, it cost over a hundred dollars for seven basketball-sized pieces of rock. There went our budget!

The next stop was at the garden center's perennial plant area. We looked at all the beautiful ground cover offered but when we added up the price for the number of plants we needed, it wasn't in the budget.

Until we found a discount table full of Dead Nettles. Hubby laughed, and said, "These you couldn't kill. They're already dead."

Ha ha. He's SO funny. Yes, I'm a plant killer. Not proud of it, but when greenery looks at me, it sees the grim reaper.

The plants were pretty. Variegated leaves and the promise of delicate white, pink, or purple flowers. Sold! We loaded up a couple boxes and got out of there for under fifty dollars. And with a shrug, we admitted that if they didn't work out, we could always replace them with something more expensive next year.

Six years later, we love them!

The cheap little plants have grown beautifully around the expensive rocks. They flower at various times during the summer. Our lawn care person even commented on how nice they are. And the best part is - they're alive!!!

So, the grim reaper of gardening has found her perfect match.

I'd love to hear what your favorite plant is, and why.

Happy Saturday!

Laura

LauraBreck.com
Secret Vegas Lives
Scandalous L.A. Desires
both available from Red Rose Publishing

There Really is a Garden Under There by Brenda Whiteside

My husband retired this year and we moved from Minnesota to Arizona. The main reason for our move was family. I was born and raised in Phoenix, and Frank's family moved there when he was a teenager. All of my family still lives in the Phoenix area. At the time of our move, our son and his lady lived in Flagstaff. Frank and I don't like the heat/desert environment of Phoenix. We chose Paulden - two hour drive from my mom in Sun City.

The Orchard

One of my favorite things to do in Minneapolis was garden. The spring/summer season in the cities was brief but glorious. After coming out of winter, the burst of sunshine and color renewed me. Frank on the other hand has a motto - "I don't play in the dirt." He headed off to the lake every chance he got. So we moved to Paulden, Arizona to farm. How I got him here is still a mystery. I think my son had a lot to do with it. We've bought a rambling house to share with him and his lady, each of us taking a wing. Our plan is to raise our own fruits and vegetables. The people who lived here before us did just that, or at least started it, but family matters took them to Washington. The place set empty for over a year.

The Garden

We have a little work to do!

Luckily, my son has vision. I can tap into that vision - sort of. Frank is clueless and still not sure he'll "play in the dirt." Although I am encouraged. He bought a pair of knee high rubber boots for tromping in the orchard and garden.

The Blackberry Garden

Clearing the land of tumbleweeds is the first order of business. A neighbor told me this has been an epic year for tumbleweeds. Oh goodie. Underneath those tumbleweeds are rows of dirt where the last tenants had veggies. And you can mostly see the rows of blackberries. We have twelve fruit trees, but they sure look sad. Am excited to see those first little nubs appear to indicate the neglect hasn't killed them.

Green is possible!

Meanwhile, in front of the house some green has pushed up through the earth and started to flower. Spring could be around the corner! In spite of 28 degrees and a wailing wind today, I'm anxious to get my fingers in the mud. Once it warms up, we'll see if I can get Frank to come play in the dirt with me.





I had three releases in December from Melange Books. I hope you'll visit my web page to read excerpts and find the buy information.
www.brendawhiteside.com

More Than Soda Bread - Special Irish Recipes....

Ah, March – the month with so many special days to celebrate – International Women's Day, Ash Wednesday, Daylight Savings Time, Purim, the first day of spring, my birthday..especially my birthday!

                And if anyone out there has some spare cash, I wouldn’t mind receiving a nice little gift like the one  Victorian surgeon and financier Mitchell Henry gave his wife in 1868 – Kylemore Castle. Take a look at this beautiful mansion situated in breathtakingly beautiful Connemara, Ireland,  and drool, folks:

                Which lets me very nicely segue into the next topic I want to touch on: St Patrick's Day. Yes, the day when the whole world turns green. Or Irish, depending on how you look at it. While just about every other country in Europe sent its sons and daughters out to the New World to seek their fortunes, Irish culture, possibly more than any other, seems to have made an indelible impression.

                Of course, St Pat's as it is celebrated in Ireland isn't quite the St. Pat's that the rest of the world enjoys. Sure, there are parades in most of the little villages and a pretty big one in Dublin, and the wearing o' the green is still a fashion statement on March 17^th. But the day doesn't have the same kind of commercial impact that it has in the rest of the world. The sending of St. Pat's Day cards is starting to creep in, and leprechaun hats and other outfits can be had at dollar stores, but  somehow St. Pat's celebrations tend to be more low key – it's more to do with national identity and pride.  Irish eyebrows were raised when a certain internation fast food chain trumpeted its St Patrick's Day only green milkshakes – the expressions turned to horror at the mention of green beer. "Are you completely mad?" came the response. Some things you don’t mess with.

                Which brings us to Irish food, which in turn nicely closes the circle of my chatter right back to Kylemore Castle. Mrs. Henry's beautiful gift from her husband fell on hard times and in the 1920's was purchased by another group who were also on hard times – Benedictine nuns who had earlier fled the country and now returned to find themselves without a fitting home. With some help from the public purse, they purchased and restored the abbey, and the lovely 'gothic' church that stands in its grounds. I'm sure the mystical setting was a great help to those ladies as they set about their worshipful work. They began a boarding school for girls, and later a restaurant which is open to the public and is one of those wonderful little surprises that the traveller may happen upon while wandering the West of Ireland's winding country roads.

                When you think of Irish food, what comes to mind? Soda bread, both white and brown, yes? Corned beef and cabbage? (which I'm told is more New World than Old World) and, of course, potatoes in all their glory. There's a tradition in Ireland of offering food to visitors – it dates back to the famine back in the mid 1800's. At that time, people would always offer food to visitors, even though they may have had very little in store themselves, because they knew that their visitors could well be starving. So it became a social gaffe to refuse a little bite of something if you're offered hospitality.

                Back to food again. Keylemore Abbey, as it's now called, has a delightful restaurant, and the Sisters have put together a cookbook with some of their specialities. Here are two:

Mikey's Lettuce Soup

½ pound lettuce, carefully washed

3 tbsp butter

4 oz potatoes, peeled and diced

5 cups chicken stock

Yolk of one large egg

2/3 cup cream

Salt and pepper to taste

Melt butter and add the chopped lettuce, cook until gently wilted. Add potatoes and stock, bring to boil and reduce heat. Dimmer til potatoes are cooked, then liquidise the soup, return to the pan and reheat gently. Whisk egg yolk with cream, add to soup and continue to whisk. Do not bring soup back to the boil after adding cream! Check seasoning and serve immediately.

Great for when lettuce is in abundance.

Kipper Cheese Souffle

2 Hard boiled eggs

½lb  kippers

2 tbsp cream

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 tbsp butter

4tbsp flour

11/4 cups milk

3 eggs, separated

½ cup freshly grated cheddar cheese

Put boiled eggs ad kippers into food processor, blend at low speed until smooth. Place in a bowl and add the cream, mix well and season. Spoon mixture into greased soufflé dish. Melt butter in saucepan, add flour and cook for one minute, then gradually stir in milk and bring to boil. Turn down heat and cook until thickened, stirring all the time. Slowly beat egg yolks into sauce, sprinkle in cheese, season and mix well. Whisk egg whites until stiff, fold into sauce, then pour over kipper mixture in soufflé dish, Bake in preheated oven (375F) for 30 minutes until risen and brown. Serve immediately!

                If you're hungry for more, you can get the Kylemore Abbey cookbook on Amazon, where coincidentally, you can also get my romantic suspense/comedy, Winters & Somers: