Cupcakes, Bars, and Rock Stars by Pamela DuMond & Pamela DuMond

Author:Pamela DuMond & Pamela DuMond [DuMond, Pamela Sue & DuMond, Pamela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pamela DuMond Media

* * *

LAMB STEW

Cut lamb from neck or shoulder in pieces.

Brown in fat with chopped onion.

Cover with boiling water; let simmer 1/2 hour. Salt and pepper to taste.

Add small potatoes, carrots, celery and 1 green pepper, diced.

Simmer for another ½ hour.

Let cool just enough so mouths will not be burnt.

Garnish with parsley.

Serve hot on a platter.

13

Stalking Me Much

* * *

Annie

* * *

The next morning, I downed a double espresso and fed Theodore two pouches of Hawaii Kitty Delicacy in Sauce, in an effort to cheer him up. He’d been unusually quiet since last night, and I hoped his new food was settling his tummy and soothing his anxiety.

I made my own breakfast and mused whether he could see or hear the spirits of the dead people, just like I did. Then I reminded myself that he was only a cat and I was simply projecting. While felines might be the subject of superstition, accused of being witch’s familiars and claimed to be a source of bad luck, they were, at the end of the day, loveable companions and affectionate pets who tolerated their humans.

“You’re eating again,” Slice said and reached for my dish. “It looks like a yummy goat cheese omelet with some buttery toast on the side and two strips of bacon. I’m fond of bacon. Please and thank you.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t share with you because you’re on that new trendy diet,” I covered my plate with my hand. “Did you forget already?”

“Of course not,” he frowned and peered at his middle. “What’s it called again?”

“The Breath-arian Diet,” I said. “All the celebrities are on it.”

“Oh. Right,” he said. “What celebrities?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. What if I’ve lost a little too much weight, like some of those TV anchor people, and the vegetarians, and the aging hippies? I don’t want to end up looking weak, emaciated, or slight. I am a rock star. There’s a certain ideal physique that goes along with that gig.”

“Steven Tyler from Aerosmith is lean,” I said. “Mick Jagger is wee in stature, and his companion Keith is craggy, but still sexy in his own way. I don’t think rock stars need to age perfectly. Rock stars are just stars. They burn bright and get a pass in the looks department. Even Elvis grew quite chunky and people still lusted after him.”

“Yes, folks give rockers a pass,” he said. “But in reality, we must still exude virility and sex appeal. We are the poster children for dreams, heartaches, and longing. All the young girls fall in love with a rock star, but at the same time we put a twinkle in their grandmas’ eyes. I think I’ll write a new song about it. Have you seen my black leather notebook? The one that matches my pants.”

Er—no. That was the one that had gone missing the night he was killed. I suspected that journal had evidence of who killed him as well as why.

“Why don’t you check next to the coffee table?” I suggested.

“Right, thank you.

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