Tag Archives: Teach me To Forget

February 19, 2015 · 1:11 pm

Self Indulgent Moment Here

Not much inspirational here, no recipes. Some pictures and a bit of sharing news.

Just recently I came across Ira Glass, and this interesting graphic statement about STORYTELLING. A profound message, at least for me. My high school writings were…well, a beginning of sorts. My first full length book was a hot mess even after I chopped off the first sixty (yes SIXTY) pages. And in spite of Chuck Wendig’s strong advice on PRE-REJECTION in this instance I think I was wiser to listen to my inner voice and wait just a bit before I exposed that collection of words to public scrutiny.

front-cover-my-killer-my-love-first-try[1]What I did do then, and later, was (again borrowing from Chuck Wendig) FINISH MY STUFF. And eventually I sent it out one last time. And they liked it. My Killer front-cover-draft23My Love was published May 2011. Teach Me To Forget came out the next year.

Life intervened as it often does.  I still wrote sporadically but those stories stayed (safely) in my computer. Until sometime last year when I pulled one out (rather like reaching into the back of the closet for that outfit I’d been saving for a special occasion) and sent it off to Lauri, the editor who has said consistently: If you wrote it, we want it.

And she did. A Question of Honor (working title) went off to BLACK OPAL BOOKS. They have grown so much since my first submission and I knew I would be waiting. And waiting. Instead of just sitting around waiting, one evening I sent a prologue and a blurb to Lauri and she sent back: Do you want a contract?

Well, ummm, yeah. But it’s not quite finished. That’s fine, she replied. When you’re ready.

looking westIn January I started a week long blogging challenge that has stretched to a month. I met many talented people at various stages of their artistic careers. All prompted by Seth Godin (yeah, I’m kind of a squealy fan girl here. During that time I was noodling through my computer and came across “Tyler’s Story,” Tyler being the partner of Devin (A Question of Honor) whose wife left him and took his favorite horse…he really wanted that horse back! I had finished this during my down time, and just for grins popped it over to Lauri with the explanation that it was finished but not smoothed out yet. And Lauri sent back that question I was finally beginning to believe I deserved: Can we send you a contract?

Shedding Some LightWhich means: Two books published, two contracts coming. And a book in final edits that will be out in May 2015. That’s soon. Very soon. Since all three new books are in New Mexico, and all at least somewhat related I’ll be sending Black Opal Books art department some of my pictures of New Mexico mountains and sunsets and sunrises.scans 090512 015

And delving into new stories to share. Eventually that first book will come along, or at least the location and characters. Thanks for hanging around to the end!

In case you’re wondering, My Killer My Love right now is a stand alone though I have a follow up novella in the works.

Teach Me to Forget is related to Sometimes When We Touch (just about to go in to Lauri) which is set in Willow Springs, New Mexico. There’s a good chance Paul, the veterinarian from TMTF will be moving to Willow Springs in the future.003

A Question of Honor is set on a ranch near Willow Springs, as is Tyler’s story (yet to be named) and that first book is on a ranch nearby. New Mexico is a magical place if you like wind and green chiles.images[3]

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January 14, 2015 · 9:03 pm

Mmmm Biscuits #MFRWAuthor

In Teach Me To Forget, Jonathan tries to make amends with Bethany by baking biscuits for her the first morning at his secluded forest home (in case you’re wondering, no they didn’t get up close and personal right away…that’s for later)

Bethany stared. “You made biscuits?”
A mocking brow asked her who else there was to make them. She also interpreted it as questioning if she would have made them, or if she could. Flushing at the inanity of her question, she idled over to the sun-drenched breakfast nook, so appealingly set with earthenware dishes that matched the mugs.
Butter filled a crock beaded with condensation that glistened in the early morning sun. The same sun highlighted clear jars of
jelly, bathing the table in their hues of peach and purple. She slid hesitantly onto the bench across from Merritt, whose full attention seemed to be on the steaming biscuit he was hiding under layers of butter and jelly. He didn’t raise his head, but nudged the basket in her direction. She took a biscuit hesitantly, bringing it closer to her face to break it open and engulf her senses in its warm essence.
“It smells wonderful,” she offered.
He indicated the crock of butter, and pushed the jelly jars closer, obviously intending her to make herself at home. Such an offer did not need to be repeated, particularly when she discovered she was ravenous. The butter melted instantly, and the jelly was diligent in offering up its goodness. She took a large bite, closing her eyes in sheer sensual enjoyment.
“Where did you learn to bake like this?”
He shrugged, appropriating another biscuit and decorating it before popping a liberal portion into his mouth, followed by a healthy swig of coffee. She couldn’t stop herself from watching the action of his throat muscles, nor from imagining the path the biscuit took. From the outside, that path was well defined by dark chest hair that lessened as it tracked lower but never seemed to totally—she jerked her gaze away, wondering when it had turned so warm and striving to remember the lessons of her youth. Advanced deportment had never covered breakfasts with unshaven men who were practically bare chested and produced biscuits that could win awards.
“Did you mother teach you how to bake?” As a conversational gambit, it covered many areas. It brought in the opportunity of discussing his early life, which would be a good starting point for the interview. It also reminded him he had a mother who had instilled respect for floundering females along with the ability to cut shortening into flour.
He nodded.
She felt her temper—that distant, barely known part of her she kept segregated from her daily life—pull at its chains, demanding some time out in the world. She repressed it automatically.
“You must be excessively hungry, Mr. Merritt,” she said graciously. Mademoiselle would have been so proud of her. “Perhaps you are not a morning person?”
He smiled, finally bringing his devastating sky blue morning gaze fully upon her face.
“I thought perhaps if I filled my mouth with biscuits, I might keep my foot out of it for a while.”

 

Since I’ve gone Low Carb I can only taste fresh hot home made biscuits vicariously though if a handsome bare chested man was baking for me I just might succumb. Barring that, I make do very well with this recipe I found here: Maria Mind Body Health. She

Mmmmm Biscuits

Mmmmm Biscuits

also has a gravy recipe if you want to be very Southern. I don’t mess with this recipe except for leaving out the sweetener, and I end up with seriously yummy biscuits, well worth the time it takes to separate, whip, and fold.

If you scroll through the comments you’ll find more excellent hints on eating well and low carb. I’ve found cauliflower is my friend…seriously!

For those who have asked about more books from Mona (and thank you for the interest!) I’m waiting for first edits on a Romantic Suspense set in northern New Mexico, and finishing up a semi sequel to Teach Me To Forget. Semi, since my heroine is mentioned by Bethany. Both these current books are set in Willow Springs, New Mexico and I do believe Dr. Paul, Bethany’s veterinarian friend, is going to be visiting Willow Springs in the near future. I can’t wait to see what love has in store for him!

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October 3, 2012 · 10:49 am

Biscuits and Jam and Love From the Kitchen

In Teach Me To Forget, Jonathan Merritt makes biscuits for Bethany’s first morning at his house, and has his mother’s jams on the table to add to the steaming, butter laden yummies.  Hang on I need a minute to process since biscuits are officially off my menu for the foreseeble future. Oh, the memories.  Okay, I’m fine now.

Feeding the people we care about is a time honored tradition.  Who doesn’t preen when their “secret family recipe for the best cookies EVER” is praised?  I know most of hospitality centers around food in one form or another though it has been a challenge when I’m avoiding certain beloved foods.  But taking up the challenge for substitutes can be fun.  So far there’s not much I’ve found to substitute for hot biscuits.  Or bagels.  But for a simple treat to take to a brunch, I’ve found almond/cheese sticks go extremely well with any sort of hummus and are a great cracker or toast substitute.

The original recipe came from Low Carb Diet Tips for Busy People

Mom’s Low Carb Bread Recipe (bread sticks)

1 8 ounce bag Sargento parmesan cheese

1 cup almond meal

2 small or one very large egg (I used two largish)

2 Tablespoons melted butter (salted or unsalted depending on your preference)

Optional: Garlic Salt to taste (or garlic powder)

Mix ingredients well and chill. You can keep the mix in the refrigerator until needed and only cook a few at a time. Roll small portions into ball and then into cheese sticks.* Bake in preheated 350 oven for 10 minutes, turning after 5 minutes if necessary. You can make them flat on top so you can turn them over to brown on both sides.  You’ll want to flip them when they brown slightly on the bottom, so you can brown both sides. Don’t overcook.

That’s the basic recipe. I’ve since made it with grated cheese of various kinds similar to parmesan and with powdered parmesan/parm blends.  All yummy-licious.   So far I haven’t been able to create the pretty breadsticks in the original recipe since I’m always so impatient, but I can make an oval thick cracker sort of treat.  And I cook them a lot longer, to get more crunch. Often I’ll turn the oven off to let them cool down and get crunchier. I’ve also pressed some of the mix into a glass pie dish for a larger round of crunch, which makes a great base for whatever your imagination can come up with, not limited to pizza!

I would share Jonathan’s family biscuit recipe but that would entail research that might lead me down the wrong path.Teach Me To Forget Black Opal Books  There’s more information about the book here Teach Me To Forget and it’s available through Amazon, Black Opal Books, B&N and all the usual sources.  Enjoy and if you have a recipe you want shared on Wednesdays come on over, I’ve got the Keurig all warmed up.

 

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January 14, 2012 · 12:33 pm

They Call it Respite

I can’t believe how long it has been since the last post. Might have to do some extras to catch up since so much has happened. Let’s talk about respite, a term used in hospice care to identify a relief period for the caretaker, when the patient is moved to a facility.
In December, Tom was advanced enough to handle a short trip, and I needed to go to a meeting in Florida. Hospice care chose the best facility with an open bed, and he was moved there on Monday so I could fly out on Tuesday, spend time visiting with my father and youngest brother on Wednesday, then go to work on Thursday and Friday.
While he was at this facility, our expectation was he would be assisted in the actions that take two people, and since he was in the care of trained professionals instead of a harried writer, his care would be better than he had at home.
Well, yeah. Ahem. Let’s just say he now appreciates home care much more than he did before, and we’ll leave it at that.
Skilled Nursing Facilities, nursing homes, elderly care–whatever you want to call it–are necessary. But I wonder how many people realize what it’s like to spend the end of your days in the care of strangers, at the mercy of an overworked staff? It might behoove those who have never been to a SNF to check them out some times. I’m sure some are better than others, and as I said they are necessary when there is no family available to tend to the elderly. Communes have pretty much gone out of style and our lives have become too hectic to be burdened by elder care.
So Tom came home the next Saturday, slept like a stone the first few days, and was most grateful for his morning cup of cocoa. The time away hadn’t lost too much momentum in healing, but we’ll come up with something else next time I need to go away.
In the meantime, Lex Valentine did a fabulous trailer for My Killer My Love, introducing me to a new favorite band, Chickenfoot. Black Opal Books has picked up my short contemporary romance (working title Teach Me To Forget), and we’ve had our first snow of the year. So there’s a lot more to share.
Trailer for My Killer My Love

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November 11, 2011 · 9:38 am

Life: the Good, the Bad, the Wonderful

Three weeks ago today, hospice care delivered a hospital bed to our living room, and life as we knew changed dramatically. The acute care hospital doctors had advised there just wasn’t anything else to do with Tom but “make him comfortable,” since he just didn’t have that much longer. He couldn’t swallow safely, they said. He couldn’t digest food, they said, so he couldn’t take in enough nourishment to heal beyond what he’d already accomplished. Even if he could digest, his appetite was non existent. Besides, they said, survival for a Whipple procedure is abysmally low.
So he came home, where he could look out at the high plains and eat “whatever he wanted” for as long as he had left. He immediately started to eat very small amounts of egg custard, fruit, and non gluten foods, and I accepted whatever time was blessed to us. Except the anticipated two weeks went by quickly, and he was eating more of those small meals. A few blackberries or strawberries. Half of a non gluten toaster waffle. We found out he couldn’t deal with dry food (such as a biscuit) and his digestion wasn’t processing much meat.
Because his digestion was processing. The canned liquid poured into his feeding tube had gone straight through him, do not pass go, do not collect those $200.00. My suspicions of an allergy were dismissed, since this was the most digestible food available.
Yeah, right.
This morning when I asked if he wanted blueberry pancakes (thanks Bisquick for the non gluten baking mix,) he didn’t just say “Yeah, okay.” Instead, after far too long with no appetite, he started to fantasize about pancakes with lots of butter and syrup. Which he got, though the syrup is an agave/maple blend. And he ate most of a small pancake with gusto.
The processing continues now at a regular rate. I know it seems odd to be excited by the end result of digestion, maybe you have to be a nurse or a dog breeder to get really excited about quantity, consistency and color. But anyone who has not processed a meal correctly knows the colon rules.
Today I’m putting a pen in his hand and giving him a pad of newsprint so he can start drawing exercises. If he’s going to heal, he’s going to draw again. In the meantime, in between meals and clean ups and shifting dogs around, it’s NaNo–National Novel Writing, where writers around the world put rear in chair and fingers on the keys to pound out at least 50,000 words of an original novel. I’m working on a book related to the one I just signed a contract for.

Tom's t-shirt design for 2003

Yep, in the midst of chaos, I managed to polish up a second manuscript, and Black Opal wants to publish it.
If you don’t hear much from me for the rest of November, I’m working on my book, or cooking something else that makes Tom happy. Or maybe putting in a few hours with my wonderfully patient employer. Life isn’t perfect, but it is wonderful.

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