Please add the following HarperCollins authors to the preceding post and check back for those who are still putting their character’s profiles up.

Katherine Harbour (Thorn Jack, 2014, Briar Queen, Jan. 2, 2014) http://katherineharbour.blogspot.com

Laura Liddell Nolen (The Ark, 2015) LAURALIDDELLNOLEN.TUMBLR.COM

Terence Newman (Detective StrongOak and the Case of the Dead Elf, available Dec. 2014 )http://www.drtel.co.uk/Detective-Strongoak.html

Remember I am giving away two Peter Pauper Writing Journals from Amazon as a prize to the winner on my site. All you have to do is leave a comment to enter.

November buried October’s flamboyant reds and yellows on Halloween night beneath the feet of ghosts and ghouls who prowled their streets. Muted grays and browns greeted the All Saints’ Day sunrise.  A few oaks stubbornly hold their faded russet leaves while Norway Maples still drip gold onto the driveway. Along the road, the flaming sumacs retain a few tattered remnants of their bright red pennants but softer hues predominate.

November days hold a peacefulness, a gentle mediocrity to cushion December’s rising tension. I always leave the pumpkins and cornstalks up until Thanksgiving. “Take a break,” they seem to say. Enjoy the last few sunny days before winter’s  wrath is released upon us, before we are buried in December snow and holiday preparations. Relish one last visit to the porch swing, mug of tea in hand, and bundled in a sweater. One last evening by  the fire before the mantel is encrusted in pine and holly.

There is something almost holy about November. A tranquility that seeps inside our souls if we let it. Relax and enjoy its muted tones, its gatherings of friends and family without presents and trees, just good food and conversation. Take time to be thankful. Take time to breathe. Cherish this month that provides a buffer against the busyness of the coming holidays. Enjoy November.

I walked tonight along the back driveway that skirts the woods, just as the clouds turned pink in the last light of the sunset. Even on August nights cool air seeps from our ravine like fog; Pennsylvania hollows hold a chill even in summer. The sassafras trees are already turning, sending red and orange leaves skidding across the path in the dying light.

The evening light has changed. The sun which at its apex set to the northwest above the neighbor’s horse pasture now hides its dying rays behind the tree lined peak just to the southwest. Silhouetted trees ornament its fiery embers with twisted limbs of black.

I gather green and yellow beans from the garden on my way back. The pumpkin vines have exceeded their perimeter, as usual, climbing and smothering the forsythia bush in a mass of leaves as big as elephant ears and varying globes of white, yellow, and orange. They spread relentlessly toward the barn, tendrils brushing the eaves in an attempt to gain the most hours of sunlight.

I head back toward the glowing windows of the house, my T-shirt hem cradling treasures from the garden. An enthusiastic insect chorus croons its song in the evening air. Cool air glides after me whispering “fall,” as the light leaves the sky.

When Caitlin Brady’s daughter, Fiona, is kidnapped by oíche-sidhe, she finds her fate lies in the hands of Brendan, a mysterious kilted stranger. Caitlin’s everyday world seems suddenly peopled by terrifying creatures she thought only existed in fairytales. Yet, help also arrives from unexpected places, like her dear friend and confidante, Edward, a doctor by day and a fledging wizard in secret.

This breathless, action-packed novel introduces a mysterious fairy world that coexists with our own. Plausible characters and a fascinating back story suck the reader in as unexpected plot twists make the pages speed by.  O’Connell’s descriptions engage all the senses, creating an almost tangible impression. The author’s portrayal of Caitlin is particularly sensitive; her character is an eloquent mix of endearing and strong qualities as she faces the possible loss of her only child. Avoiding cliché endings, the conclusion hints at a sequel!

What an awesome 4th of July weekend! With temperatures in the high 70’s and nighttime lows in the high 50’s, it provided the perfect backdrop for Ellwood City’s Annual Arts and Crafts Festival. Our town of about 8,000 residents hosts a three day Festival that attracts over 22,000 visitors! For weeks in advance, hedges are trimmed, flowers planted, and homes are draped in bunting of red, white and blue. Welcome candles light every window. Yes, that’s traditional here in Western Pennsylvania and I love it!

High School Reunions are scheduled to coincide with the Festival and often there is more visiting done this weekend than shopping. The Library Director mans the Rotary Booth taking orders for hot sausage sandwiches and gyros. Parishioners dish up the specialties from their churches. The air is heavy with the fragrance of the wonderful variety of ethnic foods our area is home to. No one goes away hungry.

Concerts dot the schedule of the Festival. The Sanctuary Jazz Band pulls in a crowd! There’s folk music, rock, and country – something for every taste and age. People bring lawn chairs and spend the day. And, by the way, you can leave your lawn chairs unattended. No one would think of taking them. Bagpipes pierce the air and draw a crowd around our young native piper who has won competitions all over the world. He lives in Tennessee now but still returns for this weekend every year to pipe for family and friends.

Sunday morning Ellwood City’s Ministerium hosted a community service in the park. Over 500 people gathered: Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, Catholics, and non-denominational members! We sang and worshipped as one, choosing to emphasize our similarities rather than capitalize on our differences.

Sunday night was crowned with a Zambelli Fireworks Display! Fans jammed the stands of the football stadium and parked on every high point in town to watch the spectacle. Blankets dotted the field below the old Catholic School. Kids scampered after the glittering fireflies, which provided a Pre-Fireworks show. Then, suddenly sparkling dots of fire lit up the sky! I watched a veteran raise his hands to cover his mouth as red, white, and blue explosions burst above us in the night. I saw tears stream down his face and my eyes filled with tears, too.

I’m so proud of my town and my country! I’m thankful to live where I can raise my voice without fear of censor and vote for the men and women who guide our country. I am so very proud to be an American!