Day: February 27, 2020

Size Matters

I like to cook. I like new recipes. Sometimes, though, the recipes I newly discover are older recipes, and call for things I can no longer find. Particularly when it comes to sizes.

Whatever happened to four-ounce packages of cream cheese? I distinctly remember peeling back the foil on a small block of Philly. Perfectly sized for a recipe. Now I have to hope I can cut an eight-ounce block exactly in half. And what do I do with the other half? Bagels?

Remember when sour cream came in one cup (eight-ounce) containers? Maybe it still does somewhere, but not at my supermarket. A recipe calls for one cup. Yes, I can measure it out, but then what do I do with the remaining eight ounces? Tacos? Baked potatoes?

My husband would prefer I purchase milk a gallon at a time. But it goes bad. And it takes up too much space in the refrigerator. So I buy half-gallons. If the store carried quarts, as they did in my younger days, that’s what he would get.

Dairy, like produce, tends to go bad after a while. Smaller sizes would be helpful.

 

 

MJ Monday-Manuscript: Besieged by the Moon

Here’s an excerpt from the very rough draft of BESIEGED BY THE MOON, tentatively scheduled for July 2020 publication:

“Helga is a character,” Parker said as he helped Phoebe into the back seat of Dakota’s SUV. Phoebe was so tiny she could be mistaken for a child.

“I think she’s frightened.” Phoebe scooted across the seat as if to make room for Parker beside her.

He’d planned to sit in front with Dakota, but climbed in next to Phoebe.

Dakota, who usually maintained his silence, tried to get chatty with Phoebe as he fiddled with his phone. “Where in Tennessee are you from?”

“Soddy-Daisy.”

“Isn’t that where Senator Tuttle is from?” Dakota asked, as he drove out of the parking lot.

“In half a mile, turn right onto Coriander,” Dakota’s phone instructed.

Phoebe went very still. “Yes. Tuttle is from Soddy-Daisy.”

“He’s in town, you know.”

Phoebe hesitated. “Really?”

Neither an admission or a denial. Parker was getting strange vibes off her.

“Do you know why?” she asked Dakota.

“He’s here to support the local congressman’s family. A lot of issues there.” Dakota ran a yellow light.

Issues?

Parker struggled to remain neutral.

MJ’s Musing: Word Nerd

There used to be a board game called PROBE. Used versions on Amazon are shockingly expensive. When my parents cleared out their games a couple of years ago, I “called” PROBE, but one of my nieces ended up with it.

The purpose of the game is to come up with a word (using letter cards, face down on a rack) and other people guess the word, letter by letter. There are blank cards, too, a player can add to the beginning or the  end of the word.

To this day, I will see a word and think, “Oh, that would be a great word for PROBE.”

Some of my favorite words are: gypsy; rhythm, awkward, squirm, swarm.

I confess: I am a word nerd.

 

 

 

MJ Monday: MJ’s Manuscript-Betrayed By Moon Cover Reveal

With their packs’ very existence at stake, can two fated mates find the courage to love?

For generations, werewolves have lived under the protection of service-for-sanctuary treaties with the government. Now amid growing unrest there is a movement to abolish those treaties, risking the survival of werewolves everywhere.

Werewolf Ethan Calhoun’s mission to save the treaties means winning a powerful congressman’s support. He never expected to meet his life mate—and to discover she’s engaged in a life or death battle with the same politician.

Despite knowing she and Ethan are fated to be together, Selena Wolfe believes she’s too damaged to ever be anyone’s mate.  As they fight to save her pack, Selena wrestles her need for Ethan while he struggles to win her trust.

Working together they must confront an evil Ethan never imagined and Selena can never forget. 


Betrayed by the Moon, on sale June 26, 2019.

The Name Tag Game

A long time ago, when I was an author in search of an agent, I had a bite from a somewhat local agent. I wanted written correspondence with her; she wanted to do everything over the phone. I researched her a little more deeply than I had originally, and discovered she was not an agent I wanted. Our styles were too different. I passed on her offer of representation.

Fast forward a several months. A friend of mine invited me to the Golden Network party at the RWA national conference.  I was sitting at a table with my clique when along came another woman who asked if she could join us. “Of course,” we said. Networking is always important.

Then I saw her name badge. It was the agent. You know. The one whose offer I’d turned down. I was mortified. One of my pals who knew the whole story surreptitiously slipped me her name badge. I returned the favor. So for the rest of the night, I was “Christine Wenger” and she was me.

I am blessed to have such great friends.