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Foods,

Fools

and a

Dead Psychic

Maria Grazia Swan

Free Italian recipe for Hot Chocolate

Sign up for my occasional newsletter to be the first to know about new releases, deals and giveaways. As a thank you I will email you a link to this old family recipe for hot chocolate. Mille Grazie

www.mariagraziaswan.com

Copyright © 2018 Maria Grazia Swan

* * *

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the US Copyright Law.

Foods, Fools and a Dead Psychic is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author and publisher.

* * *

Helen Cassidy Page at: Editing Services

http://dailywritingcoach. weebly.com

Cover Design by Mariah Sinclair

Formatting by Debora Lewis

deboraklewis@yahoo.com

Table of Contents

Low Fat Banana Bread

Gluten Free Recipe

Monica’s 3 Minute No Bake Desert

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

More books by Maria Grazia Swan

About the Author

Remembering

little no name girl

so loved–so missed

RIP

LOW FAT BANANA BREAD

Heat oven to 350 degrees F

Coat a 9”x5”x3”baking pan with a light coat of non-stick cooking spray

1 ¾ cups of unbleached all purpose flour

2 teaspoons double acting baking powder

¼ teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce

2/3 cup granulated sugar

2 whole eggs, beaten

1 cup mashed ripe bananas, approximately 2-3 medium

Sift flour, baking powder, soda and salt together and set aside.

With an electric mixer on medium speed mix applesauce and sugar until well blended, and then add eggs until mixture is light and fluffy.

With the electric mixer at low speed or by hand to be sure you don’t over beat, fold in flour mixture, alternating with mashed bananas until smooth.

Pour into prepared baking pan. Bake 1 hour or until cake tester inserted in center comes out clean. Do not overbake. You can cool for 10 minutes and remove from pan or you can let it cool an hour and slice directly from the pan.

FOR GLUTEN FREE RECIPE.

If you want a gluten free recipe you can substitute the regular flour with gluten free flour and if you want to avoid binders, bake banana muffins instead of banana bread. Makes one dozen muffins. Use baking cups to avoid using grease for the muffin pan.

Bake muffins at 400 degrees for 25 minutes or until done.

MONICA’S 3 MINUTE NO-BAKE DESSERT

Frozen organic silver dollar pancakes

Nutella

Canned whipped cream

Place 2 silver dollar pancakes on a microwave safe dish. Approximately 25 calories per pancake.

Microwave for 15 seconds or until just warm.

Spread 1/3 teaspoon Nutella (approximately 25 calories) on each pancake with butter knife, squeeze a tablespoon whipped cream on each pancake (approximately 15 calories).

Total calories for each complete pancake is about 65 calories. And it’s good for you... Enjoy.

ONE

FIVE O’CLOCK AND Desert Homes Realty exuded the quietness of day’s end. I grabbed the chance to find my boss, Sunny Novak, alone in her office and seek her advice regarding Aunt Brenda. Sunny and Brenda had been close friends for so long I couldn’t think of a more qualified person to diagnose my aunt’s sudden obsession with food.

I slipped into one of the chairs opposite Sunny’s desk and explained, “I blame it on her incident — you know — after the hospital emergency. It’s like she traded one obsession for another. She lost her lover but found solace in eating.” God, I hated revisiting such a painful event. Even if the overdose was accidental, it had distorted Brenda’s personality. Gluttony didn’t become someone getting big bucks to tell wealthy, retired folks, how to eat healthy, gourmet meals.

“Life changer.” Sunny shook her head, one of her brunette curls falling over her forehead. “Think about it Monica. Twenty years. Gone. Her youth and then some, for that bastard who dropped her without so much as goodbye and then married some Barbie-looking kid half his age.”

She slammed the stack of papers on her desk with way too much enthusiasm. Was this hitting close to home? Sunny had just started covering the gray in her lush hair and it couldn’t be easy having a sexy twenty-one year old blonde daughter prancing around the office on a show-up-as-you-please basis.

Voices filtered in from the lobby. I hadn’t heard the door chime, and apparently neither had Sunny. She frowned then glanced at me. I shrugged, stepped toward the glass wall dividing her private space from the rest of the office area and tried to see who would show up at such a late hour. Whoever it was certainly couldn’t expect a tour of available houses for sale. Not after five o’clock and without an appointment. Plus, I was the only licensed realtor still there. My boss worked exclusively with her regular high rollers. The only other soul left in the building was Kassandra who didn’t have a real estate license. She took care of the phone, the greetings and other office duties.

Two people stood a few steps outside Sunny’s office busily talking to Kassandra. A couple? It was hard to tell because they had their backs to me. Kassandra seemed flustered. Why? Size, spunk and youth were on her side. I quickened my pace.

“Hello,” I said, apparently catching them off guard.

The walk-in couple turned at the same time and stared at me like I’d grown a horn on my forehead.

“They’re cops, detectives,” Kassandra spit out in a hurry as if to get rid of the bad taste the statement left on her lips. “Something happened to Miss Fortune,” she added, in a softer tone.

I moved closer to the front lobby. “Miss Fortune? Who’s she? A client?” I could feel the detectives’ visual assessments volleying between Kassandra and me. And there was nothing playful in the volleying.

“No, not a client. She’s — was — the psychic from Tucson? Don’t you remember?”

“Oh, yeah, the séance? Yeah I remember. That’s when you — uh — lost your...” I stopped. What was I saying? Did I just get Kassandra in trouble?

“She lost

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