Holiday candy-making and a good book by Paty Jager

Growing up, Thanksgiving to Christmas, our house has always been filled with aromas of baking. Spices, chocolate, sweetness. The counters overflow with baked goods cooling, piled on plates, and carefully layered in airtight containers. The freezer becomes a booby-trapped appliance with bags and containers of goodies shoved in every available space.

  

The wonderful smells mingle with pumpkin pie, turkey, ham and at Christmas the tang of pine and cinnamon.  I’ve heard it said smells can trigger memories. Any time I smell the nostril tingling scent of cinnamon I’m taken back to the two story farm house my parents, siblings, and grandparents lived in when I was young.

My grandmother’s claim to fame at Christmas was her cinnamon candy. 

Here is the recipe: Old-fashion Cinnamon Candy

1 pint Karo syrup

2 cups sugar

1 bottle cinnamon oil

6 drops red food coloring

powdered sugar, desired amount for coating

Directions:

1.  In a sauce pan, bring syrup and sugar to the hard- crack stage—about 300 to 310 degrees.
2. Add cinnamon oil and food coloring.
3. Stir quickly and pour into a well greased cookie sheet. 
4.  Let candy harden.
5. Crack into pieces and sprinkle with powdered sugar.

In my Christmas Story, Christmas Redemption, the hero has been in prison for ten years for something he participated in as a young man. When he returns home to confront his father, he finds his mother in her kitchen baking. The smells take him back to his childhood. 

Blurb for Christmas Redemption a story in the Silver Belles and Stetsons Christmas Anthology.

Van Donovan returns to Pleasant Valley, Oregon where twelve years earlier as a boy of fifteen he left in handcuffs after standing guard for a bank robbery. He's learned a trade and excelled at it and is ready to prove to his father and the town he can amount to something.

Upon his return he learns the fate of the daughter of an innocent man who died in the robbery crossfire. To make amends he takes her out of the saloon and gives her a job, not realizing she'd been squatting in the very building he'd purchased for his business.

Can two battered hearts find solace or will the past continue to haunt their lives?

Excerpt:

The leafless cottonwood trees appeared stark and ominous hovering around the farm house. The two-story structure held pleasant memories. His mother’s cooking and laughter. Would she welcome him back or follow her husband’s lead? His stomach knotted, and he once again wished Tessa were by his side.

A multi-colored mutt ran out of the barn barking. Half-way to the wagon, he stopped and looked back toward the barn. A girl of about eight strolled out of the building wrapped in a heavy coat, scarf, and mittens.

“Button. Stop barking,” she said when he stopped the wagon in front of the house. His mother’s eyes stared at him from the child’s face. This was his sister Grace.

“Is your ma or pa home?” he asked uncertain what to do. He wanted to pick her up and hug her, but reasoned she wouldn’t care for a stranger grabbing her.

“Ma’s in the kitchen. Christmas is coming.” She put a hand on the dog’s head.

“It sure is. How about you take me to the house then rustle your ma out of the kitchen so I can talk with her?” He started walking to the familiar front door.

Grace grabbed his hand. “We can’t go in that door. Ma doesn’t like snow on her wool rug.” She tugged him to the back of the house.

Van smiled and allowed his sister to haul him around to the back of the house. The garden patch looked larger. And the cellar which he’d help dig was grown over sprouting pale weeds through the six inches of snow.

Grace pulled the screen door open, then shoved the door into the kitchen. Familiar aromas wafted around Van’s head. He sniffed and savored each spicy nuance.

His ma turned. “Grace, shut the door, I have bread ris—”

Ma was the same other than gray wisps in her dark brown hair. She blinked, and her hands clasped in front of her chest.

“Hello, Ma.”

“Van?” She took a step toward him. He smiled and nodded, and she lunged into his arms, crying.

He hugged her tight as tears burned his eye sockets. His heart, that had been torn in two when he never heard from her, slowly melded back together. “I’ve missed you,” he said, holding on, wishing he had all those years back.

She drew out of his arms and studied him. “My, you turned into one handsome man.” She wiped at the tears on her face with her apron. Then motioned to Grace. “Come say hello to your big brother.” His mother’s smile warmed him like a toasty fire on a cold day.

“My brother? I thought pa said—” Grace stared up at him quizzically.

This is one of the 9 heartwarming Christmas stories you'll find in the Silver Belles and Stetsons Christmas Anthology.  

Amazon 

Paty Jager writes murder mysteries and steamy romance starring cowboys and Indians.

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The Crystal Witch--Enjoy!!

              I was fortunate this year to have two short stories published in the anthology "Love & Magick", along with Sarah Raplee(McDermed) and Judith Ashley, my co-authors.            

             "Love & Magick" is a smorgasbord of stories and a good variety of genres. Today I'd like to share the beginning of "The Crystal Witch", my first story in the anthology.

The Crystal Witch 

                                  By Diana McCollum 

                                  Copyright February 2014

October 15, 2012

                The right mixture of violet and blue evening sky laced with bolts of scarlet bouncing off the clouds always brought to mind the evening of her death, or what would have been Hettie’s death had she not escaped.

                Even after ten years living in the small coastal town of Waxing, Massachusetts, a death-sky inspired panic deep in her chest. She took several deep breaths repeating her timeworn mantra.

                “’Tis a frivolous fear, 

                   for naught dangerous be near,

                   Bless this house, bless this store,

                   and bless me ever more.”

Hettie intoned the mantra three times.

She put a match to bundled sage twigs and walked the boundary of her small gift shop, The Crystal Witch. Climbing the stairs to her apartment, at the door she murmured an opening charm and crossed the threshold then proceeded to walk the length of every wall in every room. The blessed smoke from the stems both cleansed and protected the space. She stopped by the front window. Pulling the lace curtain aside, she looked out at the sky, almost dark now. The shadow of a figure merged with the dark of the woods across the street. Did she see a lonely soul out for an evening walk, or something more sinister? Her stomach clinched; it could be time to pay her debt.

Samhain was fast approaching. The time of year when the veil between worlds was easily accessible, when good or evil could pass through with barely a ripple in the curtain. Hettie was uneasy this time of year, and with good reason; if Declan came for her, it would be during this preternatural time.

________________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed this except from the Anthology 'Love & Magick" available through Windtree Press.

My novella will be available in October 2014.  I tell Ella's story, a witch who is introduced in "The Crystal Witch."

Do you like paranormal books?  If yes, any specific type: Vampire, witches, shape shifters etc?

Vacation Memories

So we’re talking vacations this month. It’s a bit premature since most vacations happen in the summer. 

I never really took vacations until after I was married and had kids and my husband retired from the Coast Guard and found another job, because we just couldn’t afford to. Our first family vacation was 2002. A trip to Florida. My nieces Heather and Sierra joined us, along with Sierra’s brother Nik. We went to both Disneyworld and Universal studios and had a blast! The kids were all at the perfect age to enjoy the rides and shows.  As much fun as that was though, I think my most memorable vacation was the one I took in 1975, with my whole family. It was the first and only vacation I can remember us taking and the last because a few months later my mom passed away.  I can still remember when she came to tell us we were taking a trip. She just walked in the room while we were watching TV and said, “We’re going on a trip, so pack some clothes and get some sleep. We’re leaving very early in the morning.”  Yeah, it was a spur of the moment thing. I think my aunt and uncle talked her into it, they came with us.

So we all piled into our Suburban…seven kids aged nine to seventeen, a two year old toddler and three adults and took a road trip south along the Texas gulf coastline. I remember we made stops in Alice, Kingsville, Corpus Christie and Brownsville….visiting with family mostly. Then we took a trip across the border to Mexico to do some shopping.  I don’t remember which town it was, there are a few you can cross into that welcome tourists.  Along the river on the Mexico side, you’ll see children of all ages begging for money and scrambling like ants for the measly coins people toss down to them. Once you cross the river via the international bridge and you’re accosted by merchants trying to sell you everything from candies to clothing to wall hangings. Even children, some as young as five, will try to sell you packets of gum.  The streets are lined with stores and the sidewalks are crowded with carts filled with leather belts, handbags, jewelry,  everything you can think of. And, occasionally you’ll pass a store and your senses are filled with the spicy aroma of Mexican food.  I don’t remember if anyone bought anything, although I’m sure we did.  But, you have to be careful who you turn down because if it’s the wrong person, you could end up cursed. I saw a woman give my mother a dirty look when she told her no and a couple of months later mom got sick. (Superstitious much?)

I’ve made a few trips back to Mexico over the years and not much has changed.  The children are still begging for loose change, merchants are still trying to make deals, and you won’t find better Mexican food. Of course, I avoid eye-contact, for obvious reasons. Hah

A few years back, while I was working on my book Dark Obsession (available May 5th), my aunt, cousin and I took a trip back down the Rio Grande Valley (the gulf coastline) so I could get some visuals. Dark Obsession takes place in the valley….almost all of my stories do, actually.  I got some great stories from my aunt’s in-laws as well as some great scenery to use in the story.  

Anyway, speaking of Dark Obsession, the book is being re-released May 5th. I hope you’ll pick up a copy and help spread the word. =)

Here’s the blurb and a short excerpt for your reading pleasure.

 

DARK OBSESSION

A chance encounter seals the fate of a reclusive farmer and a mysterious woman who's on the run from a man who will stop at nothing to control her--including murder.

Ray Chavez  doesn’t believe in visions or omens or the mysticism of his Mexican/Indian heritage. When he’s awakened by the spirit of this great-grandmother with a message that something is coming, Ray passes it off as a bad dream. But he may just reconsider his position when he finds Lexie Solis stranded on the edge of town, in search of a new life. Ray feels an instant attraction, as well as a connection, to the skittish young woman, and he pursues a relationship with her. But what Lexie doesn’t tell Ray or his family, is that she is on the run from an abusive ex-boyfriend and he may be more powerful than even she wants to believe. When Lexie is assaulted by an unseen force, they learn that the man she is hiding from is a master of the dark arts and his obsession with Lexie goes beyond his need to control her; he wants to possess her soul as well. As their past lives parallel, Lexie’s only hope for salvation is in Ray’s hands. But can he accept his destiny in time to save the woman he loves? 

Excerpt:

Sylvia dropped onto the kitchen chair and scowled at her brother. She’d rushed straight from work after her grandmother called and told her about their new visitor. She couldn’t help but wonder if it were the same visitor her cards had been warning her about for the past week and even after she voiced this concern Ray still had the nerve to patronize her.

“She’s not some stray puppy you picked up from the side of the road, Ray,” she said. “I’m just saying you don’t know anything about her.”

Ray leaned against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles, and sent her a crooked grin. “Damn. And I was really looking forward to teaching her a few tricks.”

“Stop thinking with your glands and think with your head, Big Brother,” Sylvia snapped.

“I’ve been thinking with my glands since I was fourteen. It’s a hard habit to break.”

Sylvia curled her lip at him and turned to her grandmother for support. She had sensed a mal puesta in the young woman and performed a limpia to heal her. It was a ritual they often worked for the families in town who came to see them about their curses. The inflicted would lie on a small cot and her grandmother would wave an egg over them, chanting a series of novenas.

She did this same cleansing on the young woman in Ray’s old bedroom. When she finished she took the egg and cracked it into a glass of salt water. The egg sizzled and cooked, curling its way to the surface like a snake trying to escape the flames of hell.

 Look for this and other works at my website: www.terrimolina.com