Holiday Recipe from Pat Esden Author of His Dark Magic

Happy holidays to all!  Give a big welcome to Pat Esden, author of His Dark Magic. Have a seat and grab an insulated mug. I’ve got hot chocolate, hot cider and coffee. Choose your pot, they’re labeled. Pick your choice of a Snicker-doodle, Chocolate Chip or Peanut butter cookie from the plate. Yep, I baked them myself. Pat as a recipe for us and a little about His Dark Magic.  Thanks for joining us! Take it away Pat!

 
 
Almond Moon Cookies: A Timeout from the Holiday Rush
The holiday season is packed with things to do and places to go. It’s easy to become overwhelmed if you don’t take time to relax and rejuvenate. One of the best ways to do this is to reserve a quite evening or even just an hour for yourself. Shut off social media and your phone, light a
candle and enjoy a cup of tea while you listen to music or read a book. I suggest a tea with a gentle aroma and flavor like jasmine tea paired with a buttery-sweet cookie like almond moons. Almond moons are named after their crescent shape that honors the new moon. The new moon is a time for quiet reflection and new beginnings. It’s all about for planning how to move forward.
Almond Moons
(makes approximately 3 dozen cookies)
1 cup softened butter
8 ounces softened cream cheese
2 cups granulated sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon almond extract
3-1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ cup slivered almonds
Chocolate frosting
In large bowl cream butter and softened cream cheese together
until light and fluffy.  Add sugar, egg,
vanilla, and almond extract. Beat until well blended.
In separate bowl combine flour and baking powder. Gradually
add flour mixture to creamed mixture, beating after each addition until
thoroughly blended into soft dough.
Cover bowl and refrigerate for at least one hour. Dough can
be chilled overnight.
Scoop out tablespoons of dough onto lightly floured surface
and form into small 2 inch logs. Bend logs into crescent moon shape and place
on ungreased cookie sheet. When shaping moons remember that dough will rise and
expand slightly as it cooks.
Bake at 350 degrees for 10-12 minutes or until bottom is
golden brown. Some golden brown will show around edges of cookies.
Cool cookies, then drizzle with your favorite chocolate
glaze or spread chocolate frosting along inner edge of cookie to accent moon
shape. Press slivered almonds into soft glaze or frosting.
These cookies keep well in the freezer, so be sure to stash
a few away for that much needed holiday timeout.
Tell us a little about His Dark Magic Northern Circle Coven,Book One.  
 Its power is legendary. It can fulfill every impossible magical desire. But for one young witch seeking redemption, the Northern Circle coven will challenge her skills—and her heart—beyond measure.
Its power is legendary. It can fulfill every impossible magical desire. But for one young witch seeking redemption, the Northern Circle coven will challenge her skills—and her heart—beyond measure.
One tragic impulsive mistake made Chloe Winslow an outcast to her influential magic family. As a medical student, she wants to combine science with sorcery to heal those she hurt and right her wrongs. But brilliant, charismatic Devlin Marsh re-routes her plans with a once-in-eternity offer: membership in the exclusive Northern Circle, a mysterious Vermont coven known for pushing the limits.
Enthralled by Devlin and their mesmerizing mutual attraction, Chloe makes a dangerous sacrifice to help the Circle’s high priestess awaken Merlin himself—and learn his timeless cures. But a foreshadowing soon causes Chloe to doubt the Circle’s real motives, as well as Devlin’s . . .
Now Merlin’s demonic shade is loose in the human world, while Chloe and Devlin’s uneasy alliance will pit them against ancient enemies, malevolent illusions, and shattering betrayal. And with the fate of two realms in the balance, Chloe must risk her untried power against a force she can’t defeat—and a passion that could destroy her. 
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Chapter 1
Earth. Air. Fire. Water.
—Inscribed into a white candle
Chloe padded barefoot across her apartment to the
altar on her windowsill. She struck a match and lit a candle. Its light
shimmered over a row of crystals and washed into the darkness beyond the open
window.
“Spirits of air,” she intoned, holding out her
hands. “Guardians of thought and intent, grant me your presence today. Spirits
of fire, guardians of will and passion…”
A gust of wind sent autumn leaves whirling through
the darkness and rustling against the window’s screen. She stopped chanting and
cupped her hands around the candle, shielding it from the breeze. She shivered.
There was a sense of foreboding in the air, a whisper and a chill that a witch
like her could not ignore. Someone else with powers was close by. And they were
thinking about her—at least that’s what her intuition murmured.
She glanced out the window. There was no one in the
tiny parking lot, one story below. The windows in the house next door stood
dark and silent. She caught a whiff of bacon and hash browns, but the smell was
faint and not unexpected. It was almost five-thirty, breakfast time for the
couple upstairs.
Quiet as could be, she tiptoed past her bed and a
stack of textbooks to the studio apartment’s front door. She opened it a crack
and glanced out. The hall light was on, its brightness fanning across the
hallway between her and the main staircase. But the doors to the other two
apartments on her floor were shut, everything dead silent.
Remembering her candle, Chloe swiveled back. “Out,”
she whispered, flicking her fingers to send a burst of energy at its flame.
The flame obeyed, only a thread of its
rosemary-scented smoke trailing behind her as she opened the door all the way
and crept down the hallway, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.
When she reached the top of the staircase,
everything was still quiet. But after a moment, a faint thump-thump echoed
up from the foyer below.
 Thump-bang.
Bang.
Chloe froze, her breath knotting in the back of her throat. It was as
if someone had leaned into the front door, hard shouldering it to see if it
would give way.
She waited, listening for the noise to happen again. One long second passed,
then another. She gritted her teeth and took a cautious step downward.
Her ear caught the swish and clink of something
being slid through the mail slot, followed by a hum of magic.
Not daring to breathe, Chloe snuck down the stairs
far enough that she could see the foyer and the front entrance. A narrow
envelope lay just inside the door, as white as moonlight against the worn
floorboards.
She glanced at the window set into the front door.
No one was looking in or lurking in the shadows on the porch, so she sprinted
down the rest of the stairs and snatched the envelope. Even before she read who
it was for, her intuition screamed that it was addressed to her:
Chloe Winslow
The ink was black. The handwriting neat and
controlled. Perfectly centered. But it wasn’t an envelope. It was handmade,
paper folded and held shut by a disk of gold sealing wax stamped with an N surrounded
by a circle.
She nudged the seal with her index finger. Energy
crackled off of it, snaking up her arm. She gasped. Powerful magic. She was
certain of it, though if any of the other tenants had found the letter and
touched the seal, they wouldn’t have felt a thing.
Adrenaline pumped into her veins. A month ago,
she’d moved out of her parents’ house in Connecticut to take prerequisite
courses at the University of Vermont before applying for medical school. In all
those weeks, she hadn’t encountered any other true witches or magic. No way in
hell was she going to let someone drop off a thing like this and then escape
before she could meet them.
She shoved the letter into the waistband of her
yoga pants, unlocked the front door, and charged out onto the porch. Her gaze
flashed to the left. Parked cars lined the dark street. But no one was getting
into or out of any of them.
The swish of someone striding through fallen leaves
came from the opposite direction. She wheeled and caught a glimpse of him.
Definitely a guy, striding down the sidewalk through a glimmer of streetlight.
Broad shoulders filled out his dark quilted jacket. Khaki chinos. Lean.
Athletic. Confident.
Chloe’s long legs took the porch stairs in a single
leap. She sprinted down the sidewalk after him, leaves scattering beneath her
bare feet.
The guy jogged between two parked cars and crossed
the street.
“Wait!” she shouted.
He slowed and glanced back. That was all the time
Chloe needed. She willed her legs to go faster and in a dozen strides caught up
to him and snagged his sleeve.
His eyes met hers. He looked to be maybe
twenty-four or -five. His dark- brown hair curled at the nape of his neck. Deep,
brown eyes. Muscular. Classy. Gorgeous. His magic purred in the air around him.
She gulped a breath and toughened her voice. “You
owe me an explanation.”
His gaze traveled over her slowly, from her bobbed
honey-blond hair, past her makeup-free face and stretched out T-shirt, down to
her stormy- blue painted toenails, then back up to her eyes. Dimples formed as
his lips twitched into a roguish smirk.
“Not afraid of confrontation, are you?” he said.
His voice was warm and deep, liquid danger spiked
with an undercurrent of confident innuendo. It sent an excited shiver up her
arms. Still she glared at him. “First of all, I suspect you dropped off that letter
at this time of morning because you knew I’d be awake and sense you. That means
you’ve been spying on me.”
“Is that so?” He shifted closer, his magic sweeping
her skin.
Her legs weakened. Desire thrummed low in her
belly. Dear Goddess, this hadn’t been one of her brighter moves. Maybe she
could snuff out a candle with a flick of her fingers, but with seemingly no
effort his magic had aroused every inch of her. Clearly, he was extraordinarily
gifted—and not just with working spells.
She let go of his sleeve, retreated a step, and
found herself trapped against a cedar hedge.
He cocked his head. “Why don’t you open the letter
if you’re so curious?”
Her fingers obeyed, sliding it from her waistband—
She stopped. What the heck was she doing? She’d
felt the magic crackle off the seal. If she broke it, there was no telling what
kind of spell might be activated.
Chloe pulled herself up to her full height and
looked him square in the eyes, which wasn’t that hard to do. He was probably
five-foot-ten, but she was only a couple of inches shorter even in bare feet.
“I’ve got a better idea. How about if you tell me what it says?”
He frowned as if the idea didn’t appeal to him,
then surprisingly he stepped back and shrugged. “All right, if you insist. It’s
an invitation from the Northern Circle coven. Have you heard of us?”
“Umm—no.” Her pulse quickened, renewed wariness
pumping into her blood. Her parents had mentioned a few older hereditary
witches who lived in this area, but never this group.
“It’s to a party. A meet and greet. A chance to see
if you might be interested in joining us and if we think you’re a good fit.” He
rubbed a hand down the sleeve of his jacket as if deciding whether he should
say more. Finally, he went on, “We’re dedicated to finding ways to access
ancient knowledge. Through out-of-body travel, retrocognition…” He studied
her face carefully, as if watching for her reaction.
She pressed her lips together, refusing to give him
one—though what he’d said totally enticed her.
Amusement twinkled in his eyes for a second, then
he continued. “We believe there are cures to modern diseases and conditions
that have been lost to time. The wisdom and magic of Imhotep, Hippocrates, even
Merlin.” He smiled, slyly. “You are interested in medicine, right?”
Her wariness evaporated and that thrum jumped to
life again deep inside her. But this time it had nothing to do with sex. Magic.
Medicine. Secrets lost to time.
None of the classes she was taking or
anything she’d come across at the university were even remotely as exciting as
this.
She folded her arms across her chest. “Of course
you’d know I’m interested in that. You’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
“I—we haven’t been spying on you. You don’t always
use protection spells. We picked up on your energy. That’s one of the ways we
find new potential members.” He stopped, his jaw tensing as if he were holding
something back.
She pinned him with a steady look. “And?”
He grimaced. “All right, we have contacts in
administration. We may have checked your college records as well: graduated
from a community college, taking additional prerequisites before applying for
medical school. Top-ten test scores. Not a great apartment. But somehow you
scored it last minute.”
Now he sounded like her father, using his connections
to screen potential employees. She thrust the letter out. “If this is all so
innocent, then why don’t you open it? Or does the seal bother you?”
He laughed, tugged the letter from her fingers, and
broke the sealing wax. The welcoming scent of sage and lavender perfumed the
air, and a trail of green firefly-like sparks twinkled upward, swirling around
before vanishing off toward the brightening eastern horizon.
“Better now?” he said, handing the open letter back
to her.
She skimmed it, nibbling her bottom lip. Even in
the dim street-light, she could see he’d told the truth. It was an engraved
invitation signed: Athena Marsh, high priestess, Northern Circle.
“You can take a city bus—or text Athena if you want
a ride. She’ll probably ask me to pick you up, but she’s the one doing the
organizing. This is her pet project,” he continued. “You won’t be the only
newbie. No one will force you into anything.”
His voice settled sugar-sweet in her ear. Medicine.
Magic.
A chance to gain the knowledge from ancient physicians, scholars,
and sorcerers. Perhaps even pick the wizard Merlin’s brain. How could she say no?

 

About the Author:
PAT ESDEN is an antique-dealing florist by trade. She’s also a member of Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, Romance Writers of America, and the League of Vermont Writers. Her short stories have appeared in a number of publications, including Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, the Mythopoeic Society’s Mythic Circle literary magazine, and George H. Scither’s anthology Cat Tales.
Her new adult paranormal novel, A HOLD ON ME (book #1 in the Dark Heart series) is available from Kensington Books. BEYOND YOUR TOUCH (book #2 Dark Heart series) will be released August 30th.
 
 

 

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Spotlight on The Dragon’s Playlist by Laura Bickle

Give a warm welcome to Laura Bickle, author of  The Dragon’s Playlist!

 Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and enjoy the spotlight on The Dragon’s Playlist.

From the author of THE HALLOWED ONES and NINE OF STARS comes a new novel blending the magical and the real…
“This is war,” the dragon said. And she believed him.
Di fled rural West Virginia to study music and pursue a bright future as a violinist. But when a mining accident nearly kills her father, she is summoned back home to support her family. Old ghosts and an old flame emerge from the past. When Di gets a job as a bookkeeper at the same mine where her father worked, she is drawn into a conflict pitting neighbor against neighbor as the mine plans an expansion to an untouched mountain.
If the mining company’s operation goes forward, there will be more at stake than livelihoods or the pollution of the land: Di has discovered a dragon lives deep within Sawtooth Mountain, and he is not happy with this encroachment upon his lair. When catastrophe strikes, Di must choose between her family’s best interests and protecting the dragon – the last surviving bit of magic in Di’s shrinking world.
In every fight, sides are chosen. And there can be no yearning for what has been left behind.
Read 2 New Chapters Free Each Week Starting June 1
at
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Full eBook Available at 

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About the Author:
 
Laura Bickle grew up in rural Ohio, reading entirely too many comic books out loud to her favorite Wonder Woman doll. After graduating with an MA in Sociology-Criminology from Ohio State University and an MLIS in Library Science from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, she patrolled the stacks at the public library and worked with data systems in criminal justice. She now dreams up stories about the monsters under the stairs. Her work has been included in the ALA’s Amelia Bloomer Project 2013 reading list and the State Library of Ohio’s Choose to Read Ohio reading list for 2015-2016.
More information about Laura’s work can be found at 
 
 
https://www.facebook.com/Author.Laura.Bickle

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I hope you enjoyed the spotlight on The Dragon’s Playlist.  Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck to Laura Bickle The Dragon’s Playlist!

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