AISLING: In the Land of Wolves by Eileen Sheehan #HauntedHalloweenSpooktacular


 

Recipe: Spaghetti with Eyeballs

 


Ingredients:

6 ounces spaghetti noodles (cooked)

24 ounce jar spaghetti sauce (heated)

24 ounces pre-cooked frozen meatballs (heated according to package)

1-2 slices part-skim mozzarella cheese

Sliced black olives (to taste)

Pimento stuffed green olives (to taste)


Instructions:

Cook noodles, sauce, and meatballs according to package directions.

Combine noodles and sauce. 

Mix until well combined. 

Form "nests" of noodles by twirling noodles in a serving ladle with a fork and then placing in a serving bowl.

After meatballs have cooled slightly, cut out circles of mozzarella cheese and place one circle on each meatball. 

Place one black olive slice over the cheese circle.

Gently place meatballs randomly over the spaghetti. 

Add green olives over the top, to taste.


AISLING: In the Land of Wolves
Aisling Trilogy  
Book One
Eileen Sheehan

Genre: Paranormal, thriller, romance
Date of Publication: 6-17-2023
ISBN: 979-8398829426
ASIN:  B0C8GFMT74
Number of pages: 486
Word Count: 67,137
Cover Artist: Eileen Sheehan

Tagline: Join Aisling as she navigates a world filled with magic, love, and danger.

Book Description: 

Join Aisling as she navigates a world filled with magic, love, and danger. A victim of bullying, Aisling is transported to a land and time she knows nothing about. 

But with the help of a community of powerful witches, she discovers a strength within herself that she never knew existed. 

As she faces challenges and falls in love, Aisling becomes a fearless and self-assured woman.
 
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Prologue

I have come to the conclusion that there can be mean girls in any species. They are not just amongst the humans. They are not limited to the teen years, either.  Although, they seem to be more prevalent during that time. What led me to this conclusion was simple experience.  You see, I was a victim of mean girls of the worst type starting at a rather sensitive age.

The mean girl abuse didn’t start until I was in my mid-teens and my mother moved us from a small West Virginia township with a population of twenty-two that was located about two hours from Washington, DC to a community that just managed to qualify as a city with its population of twenty-five-thousand and ten. It was located just over the Virginia border, which shortened my mother’s drive to her monthly meeting of the witch wannnabes in downtown DC by an hour.

The little township of Bloomsburg, West Virginia consisted, mostly, of my blood relatives which were either the Loftus or the O’Shea - all of whom were fascinated with witchcraft.  To my knowledge, however, none had been able to truly master it.

The small city of Meddleson, Virginia was void of any of my kin other than those in my household - my mother, one older half-brother, and one older half-sister - both of whom left for college before we were even settled in. It did, however, possess a closely knit community of actual practicing witches. It was my mother’s hope to be able to rub elbows with these magic practitioners and finally learn the art. She insisted that witchcraft was in our blood and it was simply lost to time and oppression. If we could mix and mingle with those who had not lost it, we would surely get it back.

At the time, I had no interest in learning or practicing magic, nor could I understand why my family felt it was such an important talent to possess.

My half-siblings’ father died in a car accident when they were quite young. He was the love of my mother’s life. No matter what room in our home that you might venture into, you  were sure to find at least one photo of him.  

I never knew my own father. Nor was there a photo of him for me to see. Whenever I would ask my mother to tell me about him, she would insist that he was nothing more than a sperm donor who had passed through our little borough in the night and I was to give him no more thought than that.

Although I found it disappointing, it didn’t bother me nearly as much as the intense emotion that I would sense pouring from every pore of my mother’s body whenever I brought up the subject of my father.  She would visibly tremble with what I had assumed was the desire to see him dead, or, at the very least, castrated and paraded, naked, through the streets.


About the Author:

Sitting at her antique rolltop desk in her home in upstate New York, Internationally Published and Award Winning author, Eileen Sheehan, writes steamy romance thrillers for the mature adult with a sexy male and strong female. The majority of her novels are paranormal, but some are just plain novels about people in love. As the years progressed, so did her writing style. Although she still includes romance and has a happily ever after ending, her stories tend to have more mystery, thrills, and horror in them.

She makes it a point to write a novel length that will allow the busy readers to be able to sit down in an evening (no more than two) and be taken on a journey that was created by her active imagination without having a week go by before they gets to the end of the story.

An incurable romantic, she has a love affair with at least one of her characters... one book at a time. She hopes the same thing happens to you.

Eileen started out as a freelance writer for periodical magazines and newspapers. From there, she tried her hand at writing screenplays. Her screenplay, "When East Meets West" was a finalist in the 2001 Independent International Film and Video Festival at Madison Square Gardens, NYC. Finally finding her niche, she lets her imagination loose with paranormal romance/thrillers. 

If you want to see more quality writings at a reasonable price, please support her efforts by leaving a review and becoming a follower










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