Showing posts with label Thanksgiving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thanksgiving. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

A Hexy Thanksgiving



“I don’t know if six turkeys will be enough for all of us. There will be a total of eleven of us with Maggie, Declan, Courtney, Lili and Jared,” Blair said, surveying the kitchen counters covered with roasting pans, mixing bowls, and various pots and pans on the stove. “Trust me, Jake eats a lot. One turkey alone is like an appetizer for him. He’s been banned from every all you can eat buffets in five counties.”

“Excuse me! Hungry gargoyle here who’s also helping.” Horace held up his free claw while the other one made a handy dandy nutcracker for the walnuts he was put to work cracking open.

“And you demolishing the desert table doesn’t have something to do with that? The turkeys are twenty-six pounds apiece. We’ll be fine.” Stasi covered the sweet potatoes with marshmallows and popped them into the hot oven so they could brown.

“You did use cream and real butter in the mashed potatoes, didn’t you?” Irma wandered in with Phineas, her equally ghostly beau, in tow. “It’s what gives them the proper taste. All of that low fat and no fat nonsense will give you the right flavor.”

“It’s a good thing we all have metabolisms that can handle the extra calories and cholesterol.” Blair set the rolls on a cookie sheet to go into the second oven.

“Come on, baby. All you have to do is try it,” Jazz coaxed, leading Nick by the hand into the kitchen. “It’s not that bad.”

“How would you know? Have you tasted it?” The tall vampire followed her with a wary look on his face.

“You can’t give him that!” Blair and Stasi protested, aware what their witchy friend had in mind.

“But this will let Nick feel like he’s a part of the dinner,” Jazz argued.

“A glass of wine is just fine with me.” He started to back out of the estrogen-filled room, but thanks to magick increasing Jazz’s strength, his witch’s firm hold on his wrist wasn’t letting him escape. She used her other hand to pull a container out of the refrigerator.

“I’ve read books where they do additions like this. So why not this?” She dumped the contents in the blender and fired it up. She poured a little bit of the thick mixture into a glass and offered it to Nick who reared back as if she held a ball of fire. “It’s like an iron rich smoothie,” she assured him.

“That smells terrible! What’s in it?”

Jazz looked into the glass but seemed to hold her breath. “Pureed turkey and cow’s blood.”

That was what you put in our refrigerator?” Stasi cried. “Jazz!”

“It’s not like I put bits of an entire dinner in there.” She held the glass toward Nick who kept backing away with his hands up.

“Wine only.”

Moss green eyes shot sparks in his direction. “Nikolai Gregorivich I made this for you and you will drink it!”

That was when Nick disappeared in the wink of an eye.

“I cooked for you!” Jazz shouted.

May all of you have a fantastic Thanksgiving day.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

A Hexy Thanksgiving



“I don’t know if three turkeys will be enough,” Blair said, surveying the kitchen counters covered with roasting pans, mixing bowls, and various pots and pans on the stove. “Trust me, Jake eats a lot. There are all you can eat buffets that won’t let us come back.”

“And you demolishing the desert table doesn’t have something to do with that? The turkeys are twenty-six pounds apiece. We’ll be fine.” Stasi covered the sweet potatoes with marshmallows and popped them into the hot oven so they could brown.

“You did use cream and real butter in the mashed potatoes, didn’t you?” Irma wandered in with Phinneas, her beau, in tow. “It’s what gives them the proper taste.”

“It’s a good thing we all have metabolisms that don’t mind the extra calories and cholesterol.” Blair set the rolls on a cookie sheet.

“All you have to do is try it,” Jazz coaxed, leading Nick into the kitchen. “It’s not that bad.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes.

“How would you know? Have you tasted it?” The tall vampire looked down at her with a wary expression on his face.

“You’re not going to do it!” Blair and Stasi protested, aware what their witchy friend had in mind.

“It’s a great way for Nick to feel like he’s a part of the dinner,” Jazz pointed out.

“You know what? A glass of wine is just fine with me.” He started to back out of the estrogen-filled room, but his witch’s firm hold on his wrist wouldn’t allow it, thanks to magick increasing her strength. She used her other hand to pull a container out of the refrigerator.

“I’ve read books where they do additions like this. So why not this?” She dumped the contents in the blender and fired it up. She poured a little bit of the thick mixture into a glass and offered it to Nick who reared back as if she held a ball of fire.

“That smells terrible! What’s in it?”

Jazz looked into the glass but seemed to hold her breath. “Pureed turkey and cow’s blood.”

That was what you put in our refrigerator?” Stasi cried. “Jazz!”

“It’s not like I put bits of an entire dinner in there.” She held the glass toward Nick who kept backing away with his hands up. "Come on, sweetheart, just try it."

“Wine only," he replied.

“Nikolai Gregorivich I made this for you and you will drink it!” She narrowed her eyes.

That was when Nick smiled, blew her a kiss and disappeared in the wink of an eye. 

Jazz spun in a tight circle. "But I fixed it just for you!" she wailed. 

"Smart vampire," Blair muttered to Stasi.



 

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Turkey Day Is Coming!

Three days to that fantastic turkey dinner!

Are you ready? Or wondering just what have you put yourself in for?

I want to be one of the witches and hex up dinner. Same with the dirty dishes afterwards. That way I can indulge in a good book. I’d even settle for minions to do it all.

Not that I can complain since we’re going out to dinner this year.

If you get a chance to get some good reading in, more power to you!

To get you in the mood, I’m including a Thanksgiving story about Jazz and Irma.

And for one lucky commenter I’m giving away an advanced reading copy of A Demon Does It Better, my January release. US residents only please. The winner will be chosen from the commenters on Monday morning at 8am, November 28.

And for all of you have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Too bad we don’t all have Irma to oversee our culinary efforts!

"I have to do what?" A horrified Jazz stared at the pale-skinned turkey lying on the counter.
"You have to reach inside the cavity and take out the giblets." Irma peered over her shoulder sending a shock of cold through Jazz’s body.When Jazz broke down and asked Irma to help her cook Thanksgiving dinner, she had no idea it would involve putting her hands inside a raw turkey and pull its guts out. Can you spell euww!She settled for sticking her hands inside two plastic bags before sticking them inside the turkey's butt. She kept her eyes closed and mouth scrunched up as she scooped out the innards."This is disgusting!""Perhaps if you'd cooked more often and not been out there doing witchy things, you'd know what to do in cooking a proper meal.""Spare me from self-righteous spirits," Jazz muttered, dumping the giblets and the neck in the sink. She quickly peeled off the bags and dropped them in the trash."And don't forget to wash your hands thoroughly since you just handled raw poultry."Jazz paused in wiping her hands on her jeans and reached for the hand soap instead."How big is the turkey?" Irma asked, pursing her Tangeed lips. While she now wore clothing designed for this century instead of the last, she still enjoyed some of her 1950s make up.Jazz stared at the pale bird. "Big."Irma sighed. "No, how many pounds.""I don't know. I didn't exactly put it on a scale!""Then look at the wrapper! You determine the time it takes to cook it according to the number of pounds. We always bought our turkeys at the Farris Turkey Ranch. Such beautiful birds too."Jazz ignored Irma reminiscing about the good old days when she was still alive. "Yeah yeah. Okay, the bird is twenty-three pounds since Krebs wants lots of leftovers and Stasi and Blair are coming down for dinner.""Are you stuffing it? If you are, it will take longer to cook.""Stuffing it? I just took stuff out of it!" Witches normally didn't get headaches but Jazz was well on her way to a doozy."And you make up a nice stuffing to put into the turkey cavity. There's cornbread stuffing, oyster, herb. Take your choice.""Then I choose Stove-Top which I can put in the microwave and it doesn't have to go anywhere near a turkey's nether regions.""That's not stuffing! That's pieces of Lord knows what in a box!"Jazz studied the red and yellow box. "The box stays stuffing, it's stuffing."Under Irma's guidance Jazz had the turkey rubbed with butter and herbs, placed in a large electric roaster, and the timer set."Off the counter!" She ordered Fluff and Puff as the bunny slippers scampered up to investigate what was going on. She gave each them of a piece of licorice root for a treat and watched them retreat to a corner of the kitchen."Brown sugar, molasses is nice and miniature marshmallows for the top of the candied yams," Irma told her. "Are you making cranberry sauce?"Jazz held up two cans. "Jellied and whole-berry.""You modern girls rely too much on canned goods. I always bought my cranberries and made my own sauce with ginger and a hint of orange peel." Irma's face seemed to fill the entire screen. "Does that jar say gravy? You can make it from the drippings! You picked up butter and cream for the mashed potatoes, didn't you? And I mean real butter, not that oleo or what you call margarine now. We had to use oleo during the war and it had no taste. Also did you pick up the makings for the green bean casserole? That's a classic dish for Thanksgiving. The French-fried onion strings make it look so fancy. Please don't tell me that tube holds biscuits? I made my biscuits from scratch. Harold said they tasted light as a feather.""Light as a feather biscuits sure didn't keep your husband in line, did it?" Jazz muttered."Maybe if you worried less about eliminating curses you'd have a man to cook for! Look at that! You're not even using real whipped cream for the pumpkin pie."Jazz flicked her fingers at the screen and muted the audio. She smiled at the picture of Irma talking away. "Ah, silence."All too soon, she realized she did need help. She flicked her fingers at the screen again."You are a very rude girl," Irma huffed. "You asked for my help and I was only too willing to give it, yet on a whim you shut me off. Perhaps I should return to my program. Rachael Ray is coming on soon. She knows how to cook a Thanksgiving dinner."Jazz briefly considered zapping Irma back to the garate, but since she needed the spirit's help, she didn't dare. Irma was a ghost who could hold a grudge with the best of them and Jazz wasn't even halfway through preparing dinner. She looked at the cans, jars and bowls scattered across the counters. Nothing had ever looked so intimidating.And all because she wanted to do something nice for Krebs this year and give him a family-type dinner."Fine, I'm sorry I muted you. I lost my mind." Which she had in planning this dinner."I forgive you." A lit cigarette appeared between Irma's white-gloved fingers. "Now, you need to melt some butter to use in basting the turkey."Jazz's head spun with the rapid-fire instructions Irma shot at her. And every time she started a new task she was tempted to use her magick."No wonder Samantha Stevens kept breaking her word in not using her magick," she muttered, mentally envisioning the potato peeler under six feet of concrete.By the time the timer for the turkey went off, Jazz was ready for a nap."Where's our feast?" Krebs asked, coming into the kitchen with Jazz's sister witches, Stasi and Blair on his heels. "Do you want me to carry the turkey into the dining room?"She waved her hand at the roaster. "Knock yourself out."Except as Krebs lifted the turkey out of the roaster it looked more pink than golden."What did you do to it?" Irma demanded from the TV screen.Jazz was horrified. "I cooked it! 5 ½ hours at 225.""You cook it at 325!" Irma shouted. "That bird is still raw."With a flick of the wrist, Jazz shut off the TV, faced the turkey, saying "Forget the book. Forget the look. Damn turkey needs to be cooked, because I say so damn it!"In the wink of an eye, the turkey turned a well-cooked golden brown. Just as fast the food disappeared from the kitchen, leaving it clean and neat and reappeared on the dining room table.Jazz snatched up a dark green bottle and marched into the other room. "I'll bring the wine."Hopefully your Thanksgiving will be filled with good food, good friends and family and maybe a glass or four of wine.

Linda

Friday, November 26, 2010

Black Friday with Jazz, Fluff and Puff




Why did we have to come with you?" Puff whined from his spot in Jazz’s Marc Jacobs pink leather tote, as she wove her way through the hordes of people that pushed around Jazz.

“Because you might come in handy.” Jazz had the grim determination you only saw one day a year. The day after Thanksgiving when serious shoppers came out to do their holiday shopping. She was there armed with credit cards, ready to do what it took to get all her shopping out of the way.

Fluff’s ears curved over the top of the bag, then his eyes peeped over, widening at the mob around them. “I’m going back to the car.”

Jazz tightened her hold on the bag. “No, you’re not.” She pushed her way into Nordstrom on the quest for the perfect gifts. It wasn’t long before she found a leather jacket for Nick, an even cuter leather jacket for herself, sweaters for Stasi and Blair, a wrap for Thea and she was still going strong.

“I want a pretzel,” Puff demanded.

“Later.” Jazz’s gaze narrowed as she spied a plum silk top across the store. She made her way there, but someone else saw the top too and there was only the one. “Create a diversion. Trip her,” she muttered, unceremoniously dumping them out of her bag.

“Pretzel,” Puff reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah.” But her mind was on the prize. The slippers growled their way among the shoppers, who tended to stay out of their way, yet not one screamed or fainted as their magick protected them.

Jazz remained behind them, watching the woman destined to lose the top, because IT WAS HERS. She started to throw out a freeze spell, but she made a promise not to use magick when shopping. Sigh! She quickened her steps and practically slid across the floor reaching out for the top the same time as the other woman.

“I believe this is mine,” the woman said frostily, practically jerking Jazz off her feet as she pulled on the hanger.

“I was here first.” Jazz was happy to see that Fluff and Puff were on either side of her new enemy. She wanted this top, damn it!

Just then the woman yelped and released the hanger.

Puff slid back, looking proud of himself. “Now I get my pretzel.”

“After I finish my shopping.” Jazz glared at the woman who looked ready to pitch into her. “Not getting this top isn’t the end of the world,” she told her before she walked off.

“Pretzel!” Puff raised his voice.

“You promised!” Fluff added his two cents.

“Give it a rest. I said I’ll get you guys pretzels after I finish here. Oooh, pretty!” She squeaked to a stop by a large rack of silk dresses.

Fluff and Puff didn’t say another word, but sulked big time as Jazz finished her shopping in the store and added more large shopping bags to her arms.

As she exited the store, alarms went off big time.

“What the –“ Jazz looked around to see who’d set off the security alarm when a hulkish type man wearing a khaki uniform came up to her.

“If you’ll come with me, ma’am,” he said quietly, taking her arm in a hold that said to come with him or else.

“What’s the problem?” She so wanted to zap him good, but she knew it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“We believe you have items you haven’t paid for.” He steered her toward the offices.

“Oh believe me, I paid for everything and have the receipts and depleted charge card to show for it.” If she wasn’t on probation with the Witches Council, she would have used a spell to get out of there without any fuss, but she knew the man was wrong and there was nothing she loved more than showing a man he was wrong. “So what exactly didn’t I pay for?”

Once in the office, she set her shopping bags down and looked the part of a disgruntled shopper. After all, she had more sales to plunder! More gifts to buy! And there was that gorgeous dress she saw in the paper that she knew would be perfect on her.

The security officer reached into one bag and pulled out two fluffy items.

Jazz stared at Fluff and Puff and laughed. “Are you kidding me? They’re mine. I brought them with me for when my feet get tired.” She gestured with her stiletto boots.

“Sure, lady. We all don’t believe in taking the price tags off our own items.” He dropped them on the desk, where, damn them, they didn’t move an inch and acted as if they were literal footwear, and picked up a phone. “And we have zero tolerance against shoplifters here.”

Jazz picked them up, gasped at the fifty-dollar price tag and glared at them hard enough to cause steam to come out of her ears. “You little shits,” she gritted. “You reveal yourselves now.” Nothing.

The guard shook his head and picked up the phone.

Ten minutes later, Jazz was escorted out of the office by a police officer. When she glanced over her shoulder at the slippers still lying on the desk, she saw Puff slowly close one eye in a wink and mouth the word pretzel.

So a word of warning.

If you’re at the mall and fangy see bunny slippers in the stores, have a a nice big soft pretzel ready. They prefer the cinnamon sugar ones.

Linda

Monday, November 22, 2010

A Hexy Thanksgiving


“I don’t know if three turkeys will be enough,” Blair said, surveying the kitchen counters covered with roasting pans, mixing bowls, and various pots and pans on the stove. “Trust me, Jake eats a lot. There are all you can eat buffets that won’t let us come back.”

“And you demolishing the desert table doesn’t have something to do with that? The turkeys are twenty-six pounds apiece. We’ll be fine.” Stasi covered the sweet potatoes with marshmallows and popped them into the hot oven so they could brown. She paused long enough to sneak a treat to Bogie who barked his thanks and floated toward his soft and comfy bed.

“You did use cream and real butter in the mashed potatoes, didn’t you?” Irma wandered in with Phinneas, her spectral beau, in tow. “It’s what gives them the proper taste.” She heaved a deep sigh. “I miss eating.” She glared at Jazz. “You could let me change my wardrobe, but not allow me to eat? Get working on that spell, missy.”

“Yeah, like that’ll happen,” Jazz muttered.

“It’s a good thing we all have metabolisms that burn up all the extra calories and cholesterol.” Blair set the rolls on a cookie sheet.

“I brought the pies,” Maggie walked into the kitchen. She laughed her friends’ expressions of horror. “From my favorite bakery,” she assured them. It was a known fact the blonde witch’s culinary skills were on the same level as Jazz’s … none. “Four pumpkin, two mince, and one pecan. And …” She opened a pink bakery box to reveal five extra large custard filled éclairs topped with decadent chocolate frosting. For later, she mouthed.

“Ah, I see a lovely corner for moi.” Maggie’s diamond encrusted black widow spider tattoo skittered off the witch’s shoulder and headed up the wall. She pulled a tiny netbook out of a hidden pocket and began her web surfing.

“Where’re the guys?” Maggie asked, perching on the counter.

“Where else? It’s Thanksgiving Day so that means football,” Stasi said. “If we’re lucky we’ll be able to drag them away from the TV long enough to eat.”

“All you have to do is try it,” Jazz coaxed, leading Nick into the kitchen. “It’s not that bad.”

“How would you know? Have you tasted it?” The tall vampire followed her with a wary look on his face. “Plus, did you have to drag me away now? I’ve got money riding on this game.”

“Jazz, you’re not!” Blair and Stasi protested, aware what their witchy friend had in mind.

“It’s a great way for Nick to feel like he’s a part of the dinner,” Jazz argued.

“A glass of wine is just fine with me.” He started to edge his way out of the estrogen-filled room, but his witch’s firm hold on his wrist wouldn’t allow it, thanks to magick increasing her strength. No way she was letting him escape now. She used her other hand to pull a container out of the refrigerator.

“I’ve read fiction books where they come up with special blends. So why not this?” She dumped the contents in the blender and fired it up. She poured a little bit of the thick mixture into a glass and offered it to Nick who reared back as if she held a ball of fire.

“That smells terrible! What’s in it?”

Jazz looked into the glass but seemed to hold her breath. “Pureed turkey and cow’s blood.”

“That was what you put in our refrigerator?” Stasi cried. “Jazz!”

Blair and Maggie gagged at the idea.

“It’s not like I put bits of an entire dinner in there.” She held the glass toward Nick who kept backing away with his hands up. “Although I did think of some potatoes and green bean casserole.”

“Wine only,” he stated.

“Nikolai Gregorivich I made this for you and you will drink it!” She glared at him.

That was when Nick disappeared in the wink of an eye.

“I cooked for you!” Jazz shouted into thin air. She picked up the blender and headed for the sink.

“Wait a minute.” Horace grabbed it out of her hands and downed the contents. A loud belch followed. ‘Eh, I’ve had better.”

Which goes to show a gargoyle will eat anything if it’s Thanksgiving.