Ghost story, Valentine's Day contest

Lisa's Place

http://www.lisavandiver.blogspot.com/?zx=876c30486ae2b7ce

It's not easy to tie in a Valentine's Day contest and a ghost story but let me try:

My fellow writer, Lisa Vandiver, is having a Valentine's Day writing contest on her blog (listed above). At the same time, she's posting ghost and other paranormal stories to promote her books.

After you enter the contest, scan down for my mother's ghost story: It Was Only a Dream.  Have at it...just don't get the two mixed up! Ha!

http://www.JanelleMerazHooper.com/ 

Thank you Amazon Prime...I'm reading the winter away!

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Got Amazon Prime? Read some of my books for free! See my website to pick your book!

Boogie, Boots & Cherry Pie

Janelle Meraz Hooper

When the great guy Lily meets at a party takes her home he discovers she lives at the Zoo, an apartment building that caters to exotic pet owners. But one of the creatures is missing, and when Mike drops her off, the first thing he sees is a sign on the front door:

Please don’t let out the snake!

Is this the beginning of a great romance or just the beginning of a great snake hunt? Tension rises when Boogie, the snake, stalks Boots, the Jamaican landlady’s pet iguana.

Boogie, Boots, & Cherry Pie, a light romance, written by award-winning author Janelle Meraz Hooper. Set in the Northwest. $2.99 on Amazon’s Kindle and Barnes & Noble’s Nook, and others.

Note to readers: This is a very light romance. I am not a formula writer. I treat each story with the style it requires. That's why, if you don't like one book, you might try another! On the homepage of my website you can read a little about each book and decide which one you think will be best for you.

 ***

What’s new?-

On my bed table- The Melagro Beanfield Wars by John Nichols. I saw the movie years ago and am just getting around to reading the book. If you haven’t seen the movie, get it! It’s one of my favorites.

On my coffee table- Birds in the Thicket by Gerry Bradley. Gerry’s life story of his battle with a bi-polar condition is inspiring. Most of us stumble when we dent our fender. Nothing has stopped Gerry! I’m a softie, so at times it is hard to read, but if you know someone who is bi-polar, it’s an informative read.

On my Kindle-(Are you beginning to see a pattern here?) The Paris Wife: A Novel by Paula McLain. This book is new so the price is higher—I think it was $12.99—but I wanted to read it now. It’s about Ernest Hemingway’s wife and her life with the author in Paris after the war. James Joyce, George Sand, Picasso, and more, were all in Paris after the war so it’s a delicious read if you like art and books.

I don't know about you, but I don't mind paying more for a timely book and the convenience of having it delivered to my Kindle in minutes. I'm not sure where the notion started that all books should be .99-cents. You get what you pay for. That said, some of the .99-cents I've purchased have been very good!

What else?- Not much, I guess.

   Oh! I’m closing in on finishing my one-man show on Geronimo and writing a short blog on myths and legends of Puget Sound for a friend, Lisa Vandiver. I’ll let you know when it’s posted.

   I’ve done an interview for a writer that hasn’t sold yet—I’m pretty sure I got it because I was the only author who answered the phone on New Year’s Eve.

HBO’s Classical Baby-I’ve given up locating this three-part series on Infinity. I’m going to order my DVD on Amazon.

   And I’ve coerced a friend and artist, Sherri Bails, into providing the artwork for a small collection of children’s stories that will be on Kindle. I haven’t decided upon a title yet.
   I’d better get back to work so I can pick a free book to read from Amazon Prime's list.  No time to edit! Send all complaints to my email:

JanelleMHooper@comcast.net

Or visit my site:

www.JanelleMerazHooper.com





Happy New Year!

Happy New Year!

http://www.janellemerazhooper.com/







Where's Wanda the Witch?

http://www.JanelleMerazHooper.com 

I just noticed that a lot of people are looking for my Wanda the Witch stories that were mentioned on my blog to be on my regular website. Sadly, they have been taken off my main website to make room for a new web design. Hopefully, they'll be back. I don't know how to take off the ad for it above my blog. However, one Wanda story was posted on this site during the Wall Street debacle.Look for: Wanda the Witch Hits Wall Street on this blog (October 11, 2008). I'm so sorry for the confusion. I'll try to delete the blog but I don't know if that'll get rid of the icon at the top of my page. Augh! (I did it!)

Today, for the first time, I had a hit on this blog from Mexico. I was thrilled! A lot of my books and short stories are about my Hispanic family and I've always wanted to share those stories with readers in Mexico.

On my DVD player- Tony Bennett, Duets II. If you like Tony Bennet, you'll love this CD. All of the duets are spectacular but Lady Gaga, Amy Winehouse, k.d. Lang, and Queen Latifah are a real thrill. Of course, Mr. Bennett is amazing as always.

On my bed table- It's more like What's NOT on my bed table. About 5:30 A.M. this morning, I decided that life is too short to read Tolstoy. Vronsky, et all, you and Anna Karenina are on your own. I'm moving on!

On my TV- By accident, I ran across a show called The Art Show on HBOFW. If you have children, find it. You won't be sorry. I've got to find out when it's on because it is a jewel among swill. I haven't seen this show since the first time. It's possible it's just on HBO dvd now. Look for: Classical Baby, The Art Show.

Keith Olbermann is back on Current TV-It's hard to watch right now with all of the injustice going on in the world but we'd better watch it to keep up. The bad guys are counting on wearing us down--don't lettum'.

Out of time for today-- have a good one

http://www.janellemerazhooper.com/

Oh...and Bernie (Madoff)- I haven't forgotten you, you greedy destroyer of dreams and lives. What's for lunch over in the big house? I hear it's tunafish lasagna--yum-yum! 

Hello, World!

http://www.JanelleMerazHooper.com/

(The ornament that's round with lots of colors is a sand dollar that our

daughter painted when she was about eight...a long time ago!)

12-29-11 Hello! I'm getting ready for Christmas. This is the stage where the tree is still crooked, some of the lights aren't working, and my Christmas cards still aren't in the mail. But, like magic, everything will fall into place by five o'clock tonight. Merry Christmas, everyone! And Happy Hanukah to my Jewish friends. I missed Ramadan completely this year but will make it up to you next year. Where did August go?

Before I get back to the Christmas tree I want to stop and welcome all of my readers from Germany, the UK, France, Italy, Russia, Spain, and other countries too numerous to list. I laughed the other day when the stats showed I had one reader in Canada. ONE! Ha! I try to write very clearly so that I'm easily understood. If you are having any problems with this blog or any of my books, please let me know. Sometimes a word will pop up in the news that I think is funny so I'll use it. Sometimes, it isn't even a real word but something another writer has made up. I'll try to be better about that.

Before we know it, we'll have a new year. May we all find peace and justice.

www.JanelleMerazHooper.com 

Children's Christmas Story!

Note: Clip art from Microsoft--thanks, Bill!

Ribbons at Christmas

Janelle Meraz Hooper

www.JanelleMerazHooper.com 

 This is a story about a cat. A house cat. He belonged to a little girl named Hannah. She had named her cat Ribbons because, when he was a kitten, he loved to play with the gift ribbons that were kept in a box under the stairs in the pantry.
  Ribbons was a very good cat eleven months out of the year, but the twelfth month was almost his undoing.
  It was Christmas! The month of holly, silver bells, and CHRISTMAS TREES! It wasn't just the tree itself that got Ribbons into trouble. Oh, no, the tree in his house was dressed in twinkling lights, shiny Christmas Balls, and long silver icicles that hung almost to the floor.
  None of these beautiful things, of course, were meant for Ribbon's entertainment, but no one thought to tell him!
  As soon as the last ornament, the golden star, was placed on top of the Christmas tree, and all of the lights began to blink, Ribbons went into action.
  His first leap was from the floor to the sofa. Then from the sofa to the middle of the tree. He
was well on his way to the top when he felt the tree begin to tumble. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, and the tree was on top of him! Lights, icicles, and Christmas balls were scattered all over.
  Dad was shouting, Mom was yelling, Hannah was crying, and Gramma and Grandpa were laughing. What a lot of racket!
  Ribbons was so frightened and embarrassed that he ran for the basement. He hid in the very back of the pantry, under the stairs. He was very frightened and fully intended to stay hidden until there wasn't a scent of pine left in the house!
  Meanwhile, upstairs, the family had rearranged the tree and it looked as good as ever. Everyone was very sad, knowing Ribbons must be so miserable in the pantry. Finally, even father admitted he missed Ribbons. He went to the top of the stairs and called down, "Ribbons, I'm sorry I threatened to make you live in the barn. Please come upstairs and spend Christmas with us!" But Ribbons wouldn't come upstairs.
  Next, Mom went to the head of the stairs and called down, "Ribbons, I'm sorry I called you clumsy—please come upstairs!"
  Gramma didn't bother to say anything. She just went to the kitchen and made much ado about pouring dry cat food (Ribbon's favorite) into his bowl. Before she put the food away, she shook the box a few times in the direction of the stairs. Ribbons had to have heard that! But still he didn't come.
  Grampa took the strong approach, "Ribbons," he commanded, "get up here!" But that didn't work at all. Ribbons just shrank back further into the pantry.
  The house became very quiet. If things didn't improve, it was going to be a very sad Christmas!
  There was only one person left who hadn't spoken to Ribbons and asked him to come back upstairs—Hannah. Now, Hannah was very small but somehow she knew what to do. She went to the tree and took off the shiniest red satin ball. Then she very carefully backed down the stairs on her hands and knees, holding the shiny red ball close to her heart. Quietly, she made her way to the very back of the pantry, and sat down next to Ribbons. She gave him a big hug and pulled him onto her lap. Next, she placed the shiny red ball between his paws.
  Before long, the rest of the family could hear a very playful Ribbons and a very clever Hannah playing on the stairs with the shiny red satin Christmas ball. Soon, they would be all the way upstairs.

  Gramma went to the kitchen for milk and cookies for everyone...it was going to be a very Merry Christmas, after all!

The end

Merry Christmas!

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How to cook a turkey--if you're a reader

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Are you cooking this week? Here's a tip: buy the biggest frozen turkey you can find. Put it in the oven now. That should give you plenty of time to read my books on Kindle and Nook before you have to serve dinner on Thursday!

The story below was originally from Free Pecan Pie and Other Chick Stories. I'm posting it here because it's about my family. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

A New-fangled Thanksgiving Tradition

Janelle Meraz Hooper

   Thanksgiving dinner was always the same at Mom’s, and that was how we liked it. In a changing world that created new stress by the minute, we could always depend on Mom’s turkey to be perfectly browned, and her cornbread dressing nicely laced with celery, wild pecans, and raisins. Giblet gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and peas filled in every spare spot on our plate. There were no tortillas on this day—I suspect because there just wasn’t enough free counter space in the kitchen to roll them out. The rolls we ate were the packaged kind that came in a paper tray and were already partially cooked. The cranberry sauce that replaced the normal salsa was canned and always served on our fancy glass tray that had been around since Roosevelt put a turkey in every pot (or was that a chicken?).
   Okay, so it wasn’t a gourmet meal, but it was good—and the large family that came to share it thought it was perfect. Almost every time.
   But one year, when my mom and her sister were both close to eighty, my aunt arrived from California and brought her new-fangled ideas about tradition with her. Thanksgiving morning, my Aunt Pat got up early and beat my mom to the kitchen, determined to “California-ize” our turkey dinner. The first item on the menu that she changed was the cranberries―she used real ones. Mom was suspicious when she looked at the marble-sized fruit bubbling on the stove with bits of fresh orange peel. She didn’t like the looks of those orange shavings. To her, they looked like something that slipped past the food inspectors. Mom believed cranberry sauce should be pushed out of a can with those little ridges that showed her where to cut the slices. “No one will know what this stuff is.” she worried. “This isn’t what they’re used to. And it smells funny.”
   My aunt stood her ground. Resigned to a cranberry failure, Mom went to the living room to relax and read the paper. She didn’t see my aunt pull my mom’s traditional cornbread dressing out of the oven and stir in a bag of fresh spinach. The last thing my aunt did before she left the kitchen was replace the table butter with an unidentified soy product she’d brought in her handbag from Santa Barbara that didn’t look, taste, or smell like butter.
   The family was sitting down at the table when Mom pulled the dressing out of the oven and discovered that it’d turned green. Her sister told her it was the latest thing in California, and much healthier. Mom was appalled and predicted, “No one will eat it.”
   And they didn’t. That bowl was passed around the table so often it looked like it was in its own special green orbit, and no one would touch it. On one of its last flights around the table, my cousin reluctantly put a spoonful on her toddler’s plate, but the kid broke out in tears, so my cousin took it off and hid it in her napkin. Finally, my aunt mumbled something about taking the dressing to the kitchen to heat it up. It never returned.
   The fancy cranberry sauce met much the same fate. When it was passed around the table, everyone would try to get a portion that was not laced with orange peel. No one succeeded. Soon it entered its own orbit, crisscrossing the orbit of the green cornbread dressing. Around and around the table it flew until the contents of the bowl were just a fragrant red blur circling the Planet Table, not unlike the rings around Saturn.
   Mom and her sister are both gone now, and I think of them often, especially around the holidays. Looking back, maybe green dressing and orange cranberries wouldn’t have been that awful. I should have at least tasted them. Although, sister rivalry being what it was, I’m sure Mom would have never forgiven me if I had.
   It has been years since that dinner, but the saga of the New-Fangled Thanksgiving Tradition lives on to this day. No one in our family will accept an invitation for Thanksgiving dinner without first inquiring, “What’s in your cranberries—and what color is your cornbread dressing?”

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