featuring guest authors; crafting tips and projects; recipes from food editor and sleuthing sidekick Cloris McWerther; and decorating, travel, fashion, health, beauty, and finance tips from the rest of the American Woman editors.

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Sunday, July 31, 2016


Award winning author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, and after several very, very, very cold years in Chicago, moved to Southern California.  Learn more about her and her books at her website.  

Long before I started writing romance books, I threw myself into sewing and knitting. My less than perfect skills were good for something—they wowed and won over my husband-to-be’s old school, sometimes difficult mother!

Later, as a Cub Scout leader, I branched out to more “manly” crafts. I purchased a scroll saw and, oh my, did the boys and I have fun! My family still hauls out the “Greased Lightning” pink pig trivet every Thanksgiving, especially if my now-grown son shows up with a girlfriend.

The scroll saw is gathering dust in the garage, and I spend far more time at the computer than anywhere else. But when I’m stuck in a story, I fall back on those other crafts to unknot my brain and free up my muse.

Sometimes I sew. When I was thirteen, my mother sent me for lessons, and I’ve taken classes in everything from making slipcovers to suits. Alas, my usual wardrobe is not haute couture, and ready-made clothing often costs less, certainly takes less time, and usually looks better than my home-sewn projects. Now I limit myself to sewing pillowcases and the Regency gowns I can’t find at Macy’s.

More often you’ll find me knitting. Through the years, I’ve knitted cardigans and pullovers, afghans and baby booties, scarves and purses. Not always perfectly of course. Some projects required revisions that were a little trickier than editing a manuscript.

My most recent completed project was the hat pictured at the top of this post. When I spotted it on Facebook, I knew I had to make it, because look at those OWLS! Growing up, my daughter was crazy for them. She’s twenty-six now, but I still pick up the occasional owl for her.

So I decided to surprise her with this hat, something she could pull on for Halloween. But first, I made this practice piece out of scrap yarn. Thank goodness, because it would never have fit—it’s now the proud property of my three-year old niece!

Next step: find where I stashed the pattern and dig into the math part of my brain to make those darn edits!

If you’re interested in making this owl hat, you can find the pattern here: http://julieiscocoandcocoa.com/product/owl-hat-knit-pattern/

Liliana’s Letter
The Matchmaker meets the Matchbreaker

A promise to his long-dead sister forces Lord Grigsby into society to broker his disreputable nephew’s marriage to an heiress—if only the young lady’s starchy hired companion would move out of the way.

Liliana’s future depends on her wealthy charge’s successful marriage, but her own close encounter with a scoundrel steels her resolve to save the girl from the jaded man—if only she can dodge his handsome uncle.

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Thursday, July 28, 2016


Award-winning Australian author Dora Bramden writes heart-melting, passionate romance. Learn more about her and her books at her website. 

What’s Great About Epic Fails?

I’ve had so many wrong turns in my life that I’ve come to expect them, even dare I say welcome them. At the time I feel like they’re some kind of retribution for a past life crime, but later I find they were there to move me on from a stuck in the muck position.

The first time this happened I was pregnant with my second child. My employer told me that because I’d been hired as a casual, I didn’t qualify for maternity leave and I wouldn’t be able to return to my part-time job. I really counted on that money and was incredibly upset. It was a community organisation and I assumed they’d be supportive of a young mother. Wrong! I made a big mistake not making sure my employment terms were agreed upon and had a signed contract.

From that epic fail I found out that I must be responsible and not assume others will look out for me. Also, after my son was born, I found work in another community organisation closer to home and with varied fun roles and greater opportunities. So I look back and think I was kind of lucky that bad time happened to me.

Much later when my children were grown, I was divorced, and succumbed to a terrible illness that had robbed me of my home, family, career, use of my legs and my thinking brain. Extremely lucky for me, I recovered, but there wasn’t much of my life left the way it used to be. I had to begin again. What was great about that was that my life was a clean slate. Everything that had been blocking me was also gone.

A lovely man came into my life and supported me through a long recovery; he’s still by my side, more than two and a half years later. Friends and family bore with peak hour traffic to visit me in a city hospital for weeks on end. At times, I couldn’t even talk to them but they kept coming in. I learned that I didn’t have to entertain people, or do things for them to have them want to be around me. I learned that I was enough.

At times I wanted to get better quickly, so desperately but timing is everything. I feel now that I’m better and living a life I love, that I needed to go through that time to be the person I am now. I wrote A Dance with the Laird before I became sick, and I edited it after I recovered. I rewrote some of it to include what I learned in my journey.

Natalie Baxter, my heroine, has made some epic fails; marriage to a man who appeared reliable and career focused led to tragedy. She still hasn’t learned and decides she will focus on her career, but jetlagged and lost she’s put on a collision course with the man who’ll challenge everything she believes about herself.

She’s decided to keep away from finding love but can’t resist the charms of Angus McLaren, AKA the Laird. Submitting to her attraction to him seems to be the worst thing she could do, but of course it is fate stepping in to help her out.

Angus has a great deal of responsibility resting on his shoulders. He too has made mistakes that have left him wary of love but he can’t resist helping someone out. He thinks falling in love is an epic fail, but caring Natalie is the woman to thaw the ice around his heart.

Epic fails and frustrations can turn out to be the very thing you need to get what your heart really wants.

A Dance with the Laird
Natalie Baxter’s sorrow is she can’t conceive a child. She’s devoting her event planning skills to helping orphans. Falling for Angus McLaren, Laird to an ancestral estate is a mistake. He must have an heir to secure it, and the family foundation’s work with orphans in the third world. He can’t consider marrying Natalie, his beautiful event planner. He can, however, be her lover for the one month they have together, organising a charity ball.

Wednesday, July 27, 2016


Harte's Alpine Cabin
Brenda Whiteside and her husband are gypsies at heart having lived in six states and two countries. Currently, they split their time between the pines of Northern Arizona and the RV life. At home or in the RV, she spends most of her time writing stories of discovery and love entangled with suspense. Learn more about Brenda and her books at her website.

Story telling is rewarding…and once in a while frustrating.

There are times, as any writer of fiction will tell you, when a character takes over the keyboard and types her own story. It happens to me in every novel, and because I find it fun, it’s also rewarding.

Beginning writers are often told to write what you know. Even now, after seven years of honing my craft, I still employ that advice in one way or another. When characters reveal to me who they are or what their stories are, they seem to tap into “write what she knows.” With one book, this caused me a bit of frustration.

Many years ago, as a newlywed married to a man in the army, we were stationed in Germany. Our travels took us to Austria, and I fell in love with the country. The people are friendly, mellow, and easy to smile. The food is fantastic. The beer and wine are as rich and mellow as the people. The countryside is lush green and spotted with castles. The craggy Alps are spectacular.

Nearly thirty years ago, a young man we called Harte, short for Hartmut, spent a week in our home when his Austrian youth hockey team came to Arizona to play in the annual Easter tournament. Yes, hockey in Arizona! We became fast friends. Years later, as an adult, he returned to Arizona to work for a couple of years. A few years after that, my husband and I traveled to Austria and stayed with his family.

In The Art of Love and Murder, Book One of my Love and Murder Series, Lacy’s past is revealed as she researches who her biological parents were. As it turns out, her father was Austrian. Hmmm, is it coincidence that I have a good Austrian friend who lives in the city where Lacy’s father was from? Is it coincidence that while in Europe, Austria was one of my favorite countries? I even borrowed my friend’s name, Hartmut, for Lacy’s father’s name.

So, in Book Three, A Legacy of Love and Murder, a trip to Austria was in order to learn more about Lacy’s Austrian biological father. With the help of Lacy’s daughter, August, we immerse ourselves in ancient castles, family secrets, the local cuisine, neo-Nazi plots, murder, and romance. What I didn’t realize, as a new series novelist, it was unorthodox of me to write the first two books in Arizona, third in Austria, and then back to Arizona for the last two.

The other mistake I made was to get really excited about the first cover. It was dramatic from my point of view with a Swastika on the wall behind my hero and heroine. Not a spoiler – my hero is an Austrian inspector who fights the spread of neo-Nazism in his off hours. Unfortunately, I learned there are readers who would not pick up my book because of that symbol on the cover. I had no idea! Luckily, my publisher was understanding and gave me a new cover. Whew…problem solved and my angst calmed. I hate to think a cover would keep someone from enjoying what I believe to be an entertaining story.

Hopefully, I not only entertain with my story but introduce you to the country I love.

A Legacy of Love and Murder
In Austria to meet her great-grandfather and explore his castle estate filled with priceless art, August Myer arrives to find he’s died suspiciously. As one of the heirs, her life is in danger, turning this fairytale Alpine adventure into a nightmare of veiled threats, unexplained accidents, and murder.

Inspector Tobias Wolf splits his time between his profession and fighting the spread of neo-Nazism. But when the beautiful, intriguing American crosses his path during a murder investigation, ensuring her safety challenges his priorities…and his heart.

When August learns the handsome inspector is concealing a personal involvement, and the death of her great-grandfather is somehow connected, she takes the investigation into her own hands. The outcome could be the death of both of them.

Tuesday, July 26, 2016


The Weeds That Devoured Westfield

Anastasia here, and I’m frustrated.

We used to have next-door neighbors who took great pride in their backyard garden. From my kitchen window I could gaze out at a cornucopia of beautiful flowerbeds as I scrubbed pots and pans. Unfortunately, a few years ago these neighbors sold their house and moved away. More unfortunately still, the people who bought that house have left the lovely yard go to pot. (No, they’re not growing pot; that would be illegal in New Jersey. I’m talking about the other type of pot, the kind that grows out of neglect.)

My driveway butts up against the edge of their backyard. There’s no fence or wall blocking what has become a jungle of weeds. Some of these weeds are seven and eight feet tall. By the end of the summer they’ll probably grow another five feet or so. After all, weeds grow, well, like weeds, right?

I could understand if these neighbors were elderly and couldn’t keep up with the demands of yard work. If that were the case, I’d do the neighborly thing and pull the weeds myself, even though circumstances don’t allow for me having much in the way of free time (thanks to Dead Louse of a Spouse leaving me up the wazoo in debt and two steps away from living out of cardboard box if I don’t spend every available minute moonlighting to make ends meet.) But these people are not elderly; they’re at least a decade younger than I am.

They could hire someone to do the work for them. Finances are not an issue for them. They have money to spend on fancy cars and expensive furniture. Neither is time an issue. Not only is the husband a stay-at-home dad, the wife’s mother lives with them. Both are able-bodied and quite capable of pulling up weeds. So could their kids with next to no instruction because there’s nothing but weeds in the yard at this point. All the flowers are long dead.

I’ve tried talking to my neighbors. The neighbors who live behind them have also tried because the weeds are spreading into their yard. The weeds are also pushing up through the asphalt, destroying my driveway, a driveway I can’t afford to repave (again thanks to Dead Louse of a Spouse.) The weed seeds also blow throughout the neighborhood, creating more yard work for all the other neighbors.

I have to wonder why people who refuse to take care of their property buy homes in the first place. Why don’t they buy a condo or move to an HOA community where their fees would pay for landscaping upkeep?

Have you ever had to deal with neighbors like this? Anyone have any suggestions?

For those of you unfamiliar with the Dead Louse of a Spouse reference, you can learn all about my circumstances in Assault With a Deadly Glue Gun, the first book in the Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series by Lois Winston. The book is currently featured in SleuthingWomen: 10 First-in-Series Mysteries boxed ebook set, for the phenomenally low price of just .99 cents.

As a working mom I'm clueless about my husband’s gambling addiction until he permanently cashes in his chips, and my comfortable middle-class life craps out. He leaves me with staggering debt, our two kids, his communist mother, and a loan shark demanding $50,000. And that’s all before I'm accused of murder!

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Monday, July 25, 2016


Bridges DelPonte has published three non-fiction books and numerous articles in the legal, travel and business fields as well as two novels and short stories in the science fiction, fantasy and mystery genres. When she is not writing, she teaches law courses, creates educational game apps, and lives happily in sunny Central Florida. Learn more about Bridges and her writing at her website. 

The Sweet Aroma of Memories

Aromas or scents hold undeniable powers to trigger deep emotions and to stir up long-held memories. We can all recall times when a momentary whiff of a scent instantly transported us back to specific places and times in our lives. The sweet fragrance of a fresh gardenia in spring. The earthy smell of a campfire. The salty tang of an ocean breeze. The sense of smell often trumps our other senses in its ability to tap into our long-term memories and emotional responses because it is so closely connected to those pathways in our brains. Hence, in our writing, scents or smells play a vital role in setting a scene or establishing a mood.

For me, the aroma of baking bread often spins me back to childhood visits to my grandparents in East Cambridge, a closely-knit Portuguese neighborhood across the river from Boston. My paternal grandmother Angelina and her sister Maria would sometimes roll out snakes of dough onto a vinyl red-and-white checkered tablecloth in their kitchen. They would twist each doughy coil into smooth round circles, like small ring tosses, and press them together at the ends. As they baked, an egg wash gave a glossy sheen to these crunchy biscoitos or cookies.

At other times, they would show us how to form fat dough balls for airy malasadas. These dough balls were lightly fried in oil for a crunchy outer shell and a soft, fluffy center, then tossed in powdered sugar. To this day, I cannot resist funnel cakes when I catch a hint of their aroma at a fair or carnival because they remind me so much of malasadas.

My favorite Portuguese baked good is massa or sweet bread with its delicious skin-like crust and yellow soft bread center. Toasted or untoasted, I love it with a dollop of butter or peanut butter. Most home cooks leave it up to the professionals with their red-hot commercial ovens to bake massa. Any trip to East Cambridge ended with a visit to the bakery to stock up on massa. We used to send massa to my sister when she moved to Chicago and could not find it there. Later massa made its way to me when I moved to Florida. When I opened a package, the aroma of sweet bread brought back a rush of family memories.

When putting together my new Marguerite “Monty” Montez mystery series, I knew that a family-run Portuguese bakery would be an important feature of her story. The family bakery becomes the setting for personal and generational conflicts between Monty and her widowed mother who operates the business. Mrs. Montez is unhappy that Monty chose the law over the bakery in a clash between “old country” and modern values. Despite her secret pride in her daughter’s accomplishments, she wants Monty to give up crime-fighting and settle down with Manny, the bakery’s delivery man from the neighborhood.

The bakery also provides a nice opportunity for readers to learn about some delicious Portuguese goodies from a heroine with a “curvaceous body, shaped by a lifetime of bakery treats.” Monty wisely brings along a box of fresh baked goods to pry open lots of doors around the courthouse and police station, and even persuades some witnesses to tell their story while munching on baked goods. So the aromas of Portuguese baked goods are intertwined throughout Monty’s story in Deadly Sacrifices.  

Be sure to try out the biscoitos recipe below that my sister Christine translated into English from a hand-written family recipe. These buttery cookies are great when dunked into your favorite cup of coffee or tea while curling up to read my new mystery, Deadly Sacrifices.

(Pronounced - BIZ – KOYTS)
Portuguese Cookies/Biscuits

2-1/2 cups flour
7 or 8 tsp. baking powder
1/2 cup corn oil
1 stick butter
4 eggs
1 cup sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the flour, sugar (set aside a tablespoon of sugar), and baking powder and mix well.

Add three eggs and mix until thoroughly combined (set aside a few tablespoons of the egg mixture).

Add the butter slowly and blend until the mixture forms into a smooth dough that pulls away from the sides of the bowl.

Lightly grease 2 large cookie sheets.

Working with 2 tablespoon portions of dough at a time, roll the dough with your hands against the counter to form snake-like lengths about 5 inches long and ¾ inch thick.

Bring the edges together and press to seal so that you have a small donut (or ring toss) shape.

Place the dough circles on to the prepared cookie sheets spaced about 1 inch apart.

Mix remaining egg with remaining tablespoon of sugar to form a glaze. Brush the top of each cookie with some of the glaze.

Bake for 20 to 22 minutes or until the cookies are light golden brown on top.

Cool completely then store in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks.

Serve with tea or coffee.

Deadly Sacrifices, A Marguerite Montez Mystery
You always remember your first time. Monty's first happened in St. Stephen’s church, directly beneath a statue of the Virgin Mary, right after morning mass. A local soccer mom is bludgeoned to death in her suburban parish chapel outside of Boston. In her first homicide case, prosecutor Marguerite “Monty” Montez endangers her life digging up evidence that shows the police nabbed the wrong man. Monty’s investigation uncovers disturbing memories and fresh leads in an unsolved murder of a childhood friend in her close-knit Portuguese community. Her dauntless search for the true killer is a wild thrill ride into a dangerous world of lethal secrets.

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Sunday, July 24, 2016


What could be more American than a slice of apple pie at a summer picnic? Okay, a slice of watermelon springs to mind. Perhaps that will be a future cross stitch project. For now, enjoy stitching up this quick and easy design.

Stitch count: 19 x 19
Size: approximately 1-3/8" x 1-3/8" when stitched on 14-ct. fabric

Cross stitch with two strands floss. Backstitch with one strand black (DMC 310, Anchor 403).

Wednesday, July 20, 2016


Today we have a special guest, Hannah West, talking about America's greenest cities.

The realization that humans need to be better stewards of the earth is spreading like wildfire—as are the technologies that help us decrease our negative impact. But the massive green movement isn’t in full swing yet. It still needs attention, innovation, and tirelessly bold leaders. Thankfully, it’s not just individuals or groups, but entire cities that are setting an example for the U.S. and the rest of the world.

With strengths ranging from air quality and energy sources to transportation and recycling, here are some of the greenest cities across the nation that are ahead of the pack:

As of 2015, around 12 percent of homes employed a rooftop solar system in Hawaii. Honululu residents tend toward buying local produce, which saves on fossil fuels used to import items. In fact, the city has the largest number of farmers markets per capita. There’s also a large amount of green space and a low amount of greenhouse gases per capita.

Washington D.C.
The U.S. is proud of its capital for many reasons, not the least of these being it’s high ranking on the green cities spectrum. The city has an extremely efficient metro, which cuts down on the number of residents who commute by car. D.C. also recently installed 1.2 million square feet of green roofs, which improve air quality and make homes more energy efficient. Additionally, it contains 230,000 acres of green space.

San Francisco
San Francisco has a little bit of everything—a high number of walking commuters, heavy reliance on solar energy, and many farmers markets per capita. But it has also made a crucial and successful roundabout that’s completely unprecedented: in 2012, it converted 80 percent of its landfill waste to recycled or composted material. The city seeks to do the same to 100 percent of its waste by 2020. While the city’s high waste levels were what initially pushed it to take action, this is still an impressive accomplishment.

While it’s unsurprising that Seattle is covered in green spaces, the city boasts a surprisingly impressive amount of parks—they account for 10 percent of the whole city. Many residents commute via walking, biking and public transit. Statistics from 2012 show that nine percent of residents walked to work that year. An emphasis on locally sourced foods and vegan dining contribute to Seattle’s green reputation as well.

Miami has a bit of an advantage when it comes to the climate; not only is it ideal for solar, but the year-round warm temperatures call for less residential heating, which means a lower rate of fossil fuel usage. Miami boasts healthy air quality and a high number of carpoolers.

These cities and several more offer us a glimpse into the future, of what’s possible when the government, organizations, and citizens work together to achieve needed positive progress. 

Tuesday, July 19, 2016


L.G. O'Connor is both a corporate strategy and marketing executive for a Fortune 250 company and the author of an urban fantasy/paranormal romance series and a romantic women's fiction trilogy set in suburban New Jersey. Raine MacDonald, the hero from the first book in the series, appears monthly on Joyce Lamb's USA Today Happy Ever After blog where he shares his favorite recipes in the column Recipes from Raine's Roost (aka Jillian's Kitchen). Learn more about L.G. and her books at her website

Parts of my life have been defined by distinct and driving passions. Similar to falling in love, a passion makes your eyes light up and your heart race. It can be like an all-consuming lover and can take the form of a hobby, sport, or your life’s work, to name a few. For a good twenty years, the only thing it took to unleash mine was a simple sign that read “Antiques.”

I found my passion for antiques in my mid-twenties during a trip to Scotland with my boyfriend at the time. There’s no doubt that Scotland is on my list of “favorite” things, but more important is my twenty-year journey that started there on the rocky Kirkcaldy beach outside of Edinburgh. The mid-afternoon rain had just drifted out to sea, leaving one of the most incredible rainbows I’d ever seen.

My companion and I wandered down toward the water’s edge to get a photograph from a better vantage point. As we drew closer, we noticed what appeared to be broken seashells littering the shoreline. Instead, what we had found were colorful shards of transferware pottery. We gathered enough to fill our pockets with the intention of making jewelry. Later, we discovered something intriguing: the last local Scottish pottery had been closed for over fifty years, and these shards were nothing more than their ghostly echo.

That experience triggered our hunt for the history of the potteries and an unbroken example of the wares produced there. Although Staffordshire, England was the most well known pottery producer and exporter of 19th century transferware, Scotland also produced wares but for domestic use. We visited a local museum and a few local antique shops until we found a beautiful pale blue and white transferware platter made by Kirk, one of same local potteries responsible for these little reminders of the past.

Little did I know that trip would spur my love of antiques and turn me into an avid collector for over two decades. When I hit my mid-forties, a few things changed, one of them was my decorating taste. I wanted cleaner lines and less 90s Martha Stewart chintz. Plus, I had literally run out of places to display my finds. Then my husband and I downsized from 4,000 square feet to the perfect 1,700 square foot cottage, making the situation even more dire. As a result, I had to cull my collections down to only my favorite pieces, all of which I still love and can’t live without. Some are on display here in my new dining room.

Above are some of my favorite pieces which are kept inside of my 1830s Pennsylvania corner cupboard. Studies in beauty, they all hold stories and mini history lessons.

Although my heart still picks up tempo when I see the odd sign for antiques, in late 2009 I transferred my energy to a new and unexpected passion during a half day class at NYU called “Jumpstart Your Novel.” Since then, writing has been my new and all-consuming lover, leaving little time or desire to continue to add to my collections on a regular basis.

Those shards and that first 19th century Scottish blue and white transferware platter led to a rich collection of British ceramics and my cherished pieces. Even though I’ve moved on to a new passion, nothing can take away the pleasure my collections still give me.

Caught Up in RAINE

Forty-two and widowed, romance writer Jillian Grant believes hospitals equal death. Plagued by loss and convinced more is imminent when her aunt ends up in critical condition after heart surgery, she has come to equate the absence of pain with happiness. When she spots a hot, young landscaper working on the hospital grounds with an eerie resemblance to the male lead in her next novel, she convinces him to pose as her cover model.

Working multiple jobs to put himself through college, twenty-four-year-old Raine MacDonald is no stranger to loss. Behind his handsome face and rockin' body lies family tragedy and agonizing secrets. When circumstances put him back in the path of his abusive father, fate delivers Jillian as his unwitting savior. Thing is, when he thinks of her, his thoughts are far from platonic.

Despite their age difference, Jillian and Raine discover they're more alike than they could ever imagine. But torn between facing her own fears and grasping a chance at happiness, Jillian makes a soul-shattering decision that threatens to blow their world apart.

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Monday, July 18, 2016


KB Inglee lives in Delaware and works at two Living History Museums. She writes short historical mystery fiction. Her episodic novel The Case book of Emily Lawrence is set in the second half of the 19th century. Learn more about KB and her books at her website.

When I began working as an historic interpreter at a living history museum, I had no idea how much fun it would be. I started because a novelist of my acquaintance told me I needed to do the things my character did in order to have the writing ring true.

My favorite programs involve livestock, fiber arts, and milling grain. I am not a cook. I could burn boiling water. In spite of that, now and then, I have been co-opted into cooking on an open hearth or in a wood fired oven.

It's fun for the kids to cook, and they love having their cookies at the end of the session. But we hope they will learn something along the way.

Some of the differences between cooking now and cooking then are:

One would never break an egg directly into the preparation. A farm fresh egg might include a partially formed chick or be rotten. Always break your eggs into a cup before adding them to the more expensive ingredients, like flour and sugar.

A stable baking powder came along in the second half of the 19th century. Before that you had to add baking soda and cream of tartar separately as you are cooking. That way they will do the work you hope they will, leavening your mixture.

All measurements are all approximate. The level measure was popularized in the 1890s by Fannie Farmer. At home I use a cup measure but always measure teaspoons and tablespoons by pouring the dry ingredient into my palm, and the liquid ingredient directly into the batter.

The only way you have to measure the heat of a wood fired oven is by sticking your hand into the oven. An experienced cook knew what cooked at everything from a few inches (quick breads) to a whole arm (a pot of stew).

I can't always put my finger on why having done the activity makes writing about it more authentic, but I have spotted it in books I have read. Clearly the author of A Simple Murder, by Eleanor Kuhns, is a weaver. She doesn't spend a lot of words on the process, but somehow the descriptions have the feelings as well as the facts of the matter. It is a wonderful story about an itinerant weaver, by an author who knows her stuff. On the other hand she doesn’t know much about milling so the mill section is sketchy and feels more distant.

Emily, the protagonist in The Case Book of Emily Lawrence, tries not to cook. She takes after me in that respect. She is an okay baker, but rather messy. She used a wood stove, and later a gas stove. She has never mentioned this to me, but I suspect that after a day at work, she would take her food down to her landlady to cook on the stove that she had been using all day. Trying to light a wood stove late in the afternoon and have it heat properly is nearly impossible.

I have a scene in one of my colonial period short stories in which they have to put a child down the chimney of a house rather like the ones in Plimouth Plantation. My experience with open hearth cooking tells me exactly what he is stepping down into, so while the scene has nothing to do with cooking, and is only a few words long, I saw it exactly in my mind as I wrote it.

Common Jumbles (Snickerdoodles) adapted from The Quaker Woman's Cookbook. The recipes are by Elizabeth Ellicott Lee. They were edited for modern cooks by William Woys Weaver.

2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1/2 pound butter
2 eggs
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp cream of tartar
Sugar and cinnamon for coating cookie balls before putting in oven.

Elizabeth Lee listed the ingredients but gave no instructions. A proper cook wouldn't need them. Cream sugar and butter. Mix flour, baking soda and cream of tartar. Add flour mixture to sugar mixture. Add eggs and stir until all is mixed.

Take a dollop about the size of a quarter and roll it into a ball. Roll each ball in a sugar cinnamon mixture. Place in the pan. Bake at 350 until golden. You can make this in a Dutch oven in your fireplace or campfire for an even better taste.

Cranberry Cornbread
Cranberry Cornbread is based on a recipe from Boston Cooking School Cookbook by Fanny Merritt Farmer. I use cornmeal from Newlin Grist Mill, stone ground using water power, as it had been in the 1700s. I added cranberries from a private bog on Cape Cod, because I though cranberries and cornbread would be a good combination.

Mix together:
3/4 C cornmeal
1 C wheat flour
1/3 C sugar
3 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt

1 C milk
1 egg well beaten
2 T butter, melted
Cranberry mixture:
1 C fresh cranberries
Molasses to taste (that means I never measure it, I just pour it in) half a cup or so

Clean berries and put into a small pan, add molasses and water to equal one cup. Cook over medium heat covered until all the berries have popped open. You may need to reduce it a bit more. Pour berry mixture into cornbread and cut it in until you have a marbled surface and every bite will have some cranberry and some plain cornbread in it. I bake mine in a nine inch round pan, at 350 degrees for 20 minutes and cut it in pie shaped wedges.

The Case Book of Emily Lawrence
Emily Lawrence knows it isn't easy being the first-- and so far--only woman detective in late 19th century Washington DC. With the support of Charles, her husband and business partner, and her own talent for observation and scientific research, Emily tackles the most baffling cases, helping the police solve robberies, kidnappings, and even murder.

Although the work is exciting it is also dangerous: Emily and Charles must balance their pursuit for the truth, with the desire to protect each other. As she gains skills and experience, Emily discovers that the investigations closet to home are often the most challenging.

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