Welcome, Tena!
From Tena: “Mystic Maples is my contribution to the multi-author series The Deerbourne Inn. If you haven’t read any of the series, I highly recommend them. Each story is written by a different author and share scenes within Willow Springs, Vermont centering on The Deerbourne Inn and its cast of quirky characters.”
(Jean here…I second the above! What a great series so far!)
What inspired this (specific) story?
After reading all the original information set out for the multi-author series The Deerbourne Inn, Mercy and Sil began chattering in my mind. They claimed the setting was perfect for their story. Once I did the character worksheets I always do before starting a story, I discovered they were right. I love writing small town stories and putting a paranormal twist on them.
Any interesting discovery or tidbit of info while researching/writing this book?
I had to research the process of making Sugar Maple sap into Maple syrup, so I would know the equipment used, the buildings used and the time of year. My hero took over Mystic Maples the family maple business in Willow Springs, Vermont. Did you know sugaring season for maple syrup is from early February through late March?
Fun Facts:
It takes 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of pure maple syrup.
Pure maple syrup contains antioxidants, vitamins, minerals and amino acids – making it good for your health and a great alternative to refined sugar (in moderation of course).
REAL maple syrup is 100% fat free and contains no preservatives.
Buy extra! You can keep maple syrup in the freezer for a very very long time (like forever)! It will never freeze solid. Always keep your open bottle of syrup in the refrigerator.
There is actually a law in Vermont making it illegal to label a product on a restaurant menu or food package as “maple” if it is not pure maple syrup. Vermonters take this stuff seriously!
Tell us one unique thing about you many might not know.
I was a radio DJ for two years on a Classic Rock Station KKFM. It was a fun job, the perks of attending the rock concerts and meeting the bands rocked, but the pay sucked! It was an experience I enjoyed.
Coffee or tea or wine? French Vanilla Tea
In an alternate reality, what would be your dream job (besides author)? Well paid DJ.
Where is your favorite place you've visited (or wish to visit)? I’d love to visit Scotland and Ireland.But I love Monterey Bay, California.
Beach, lake, or mountains? Mountains
If you could meet one famous person, living or dead, who would it be? Steve Jobs
Morning rooster, night owl, or midday lark? Night Owl
What comes first, character or plot (or other)? Character
Now for an excerpt…
Once again her insatiable curiosity overwhelmed her good sense.
He reached out. It all happened like slow motion, he grabbed her arm pulling her out of her thoughts. Reflex action on her part caused a jolt of magic spark to snap from her palm. A direct hit to his solar plexus. Uh-oh—there goes the offer of his cottage. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted.
Doubling over, he gasped for air. She had to admire him. He stayed on his feet.
Adrenalin surged through her veins, the fight or flight response alive and well. A final glance at him to make sure he was recovering, then she snapped her fingers and disappeared.
Back in her room at Deerbourne Inn, she paced around, stopped and stomped her foot. “Damn it!” Then she returned to pacing. Grabbing her phone, she scrolled to her sister’s number, turned it off silent, then froze. Her sense of self-preservation and good sense kicked in.
She could just see her sister, arms crossed over her chest, lips pursed, and shaking her head. Then in that condescending tone Hope would say, “Again.” She tossed the phone on the bed. Fell backward onto the handmade quilt and stared at the ceiling.
A whoosh of cool air washed over her. She shifted her gaze toward the window. It was closed. A woman’s filmy outline floated across the floor, taking a familiar shape. As the apparition settled onto the bed a slight indentation on the covers appeared. She sat up.
The ghost touched her hand. “My, my, what has you so upset?”
The specter’s touch was cool, sending shivers down her spine. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. At her second attempt to speak only a squeak was audible.
“Come, come now, girl, spit it out.” The ghost’s smile was reassuring.