Linda Morris Guest Blog!

Please join me in welcoming welcome fellow IRWA member, author Linda Morris to the blog!

Linda Morris is a multi-published writer of contemporary and historical romance. She writes stories with heart, heat, and humor. Her latest book, The Mason Dixon Line, was published in February of 2014. She has two more books coming in 2014 from Swoon Romance and Samhain.

When she's not writing, working, or mommying, she's doing yoga, reading, working in her flower garden, or baking delicious things she probably shouldn't eat. She believes that there are two kinds of people: pie people and cake people, and she is definitely one of the former. Her years of Cubs fandom prove she has a soft spot for a lost cause. A beat-up old copy of Kathleen Woodiwiss's Ashes in the Wind that her mom bought for her at a garage sale years ago was her gateway drug into the world of romance novels.

Linda is celebrating the release of her latest book, The Mason Dixon Line!

Carolyn Hart has excelled at one thing her whole life: looking good. She has the beauty and style to turn heads. But making her own way in the world turns out to be a lot tougher than getting elected homecoming queen. She has no idea what she wants to do with her life, her credit card balance is becoming self-aware, and her love life is DOA. And now her boss at Horizons, a school for kids with special needs, has given her an unwelcome assignment: to work with a cartoonist to create a kids' book as a fundraiser for the school.

Former troubled kid Mason Dixon would do anything for the aunt who took him in after his parents gave up on him. But when he offers to illustrate a kids' book as a fundraiser for her pet cause, he winds up taking on way more than he bargained for. The gorgeous teacher's aide he's assigned to work with challenges him at every turn and makes him wonder if there's any line he won't cross for her.

Excerpts:

Excerpt #1

Mason should never have agreed to this. He and the educational system had never gotten along.

The girl—what was her name? Carol? Caroline—shifted her cup to her left hand and stuck her right out. He took it, more out of habit than anything else. It was soft, and still warm from where the heat of her cup had penetrated her skin.

He let go, not wanting to get too comfortable touching her.

"I'm actually a teacher's aide, not a teacher."

Whatever. Teacher, aide, same difference to him. She was the enemy, even if she had soft, warm hands and the kind of perfect bone structure you expected to see on a comic-book illustration. The kind of bone structure his pencil would love to sketch, even though it would be a challenge to capture the combination of sensuality and attitude she carried.

Mason loved a challenge.

They took their seats in silence.

As he always did when he spotted an interesting face, he pulled a sketch pad and a drawing pencil out of his bag and went to work.

She watched in silence for a few moments until the first lines on the page began to take shape.

"You're drawing me?" She sounded surprised.

"Yeah. You mind?"

"No, I guess not. I'm Carolyn Hart, by the way."

Carolyn Hart. He let the name roll around in his brain for a minute and wondered how it might sound on his tongue. The name sounded like a spunky heroine from one of those old comic strips with a single woman as the lead character, back when that was a novelty. Mary Worth. Juliet Jones. Lu Ann Powers in Apartment 3-G.

Excerpt #2

"Got a pen?" Mason asked her.

She rifled through her purse. "Yeah, here. Why?"

"Thought I'd do some drawing. Waiting is boring."

"We've been waiting like thirty seconds."

"And I've been bored for thirty seconds. I'd rather draw."

She watched him stroke his pen across his napkin and frown when the pen's nib tore the paper. "This napkin sucks. Got any paper?"

She dug through her purse again until she found a long receipt. "Sure." She handed it over.

He eyed it. "You blew two hundred and fifty-six bucks at Victoria's Secret?"

"Hey, I gave it to you so you could draw, not criticize. No judging!" Flushing, she grabbed for the receipt but he held it out of her reach, grinning. He was cute when he smiled. Damn him.

"Who said I was judging? That purchase actually sounds worthwhile." His lips curved and she had the oddest sensation he was imagining what she might have bought. "What was it? Two hundred and fifty bucks ought to buy a lot of lingerie."

She scowled. "You'll never see it, so don't worry about it."

"Oh, I don't plan on seeing it. But I can dream, can't I?"

"Is that the Mason Dixon version of flirtation?" She crooked one eyebrow. He didn't plan on seeing it? That was a first. No guy had ever come right out and admitted he had no shot at seeing her scantily clad.

Most men were optimistic that way, even if it was totally unfounded.

He looked down at the receipt and began to doodle, his cheeks reddening. "I wouldn't say I was flirting with you."

Sounds like a fun read!
Linda is giving away a free PDF copy of The Mason Dixon Line to one lucky commenter! Post a comment for your chance to win!

Yet Another Misadventure...

I've been staring at this blank page periodically for weeks now. Not having the hunks to help me blog has made it well nigh onto impossible for me to write anything here. But yesterday, all of that changed.

My story begins in the late 90s when I got my new smooth-top stove. I picked it up at Sears in the truck we had at the time, which was a 1985 cream-colored Dodge Ram. I brought it home, and Budley installed it. I think the guys at Sears must've mentioned that we needed to purchase a cord to go with it, but to be honest, that all happened so long ago, I'm really not sure.

It took me a while to get used to the ceramic top. A good many of my pots and pans didn't have the flat bottom required for proper cooking on that type of stove, which, of course, gave me the excuse to buy new ones that did. What is it about buying new cookware that is so satisfying? No clue, but I do recall feeling that way.

The stove performed without a hitch for the next 16 years or so--until this past Sunday when I put a pot roast in the oven and heard a strange cracking sound. Peering through the window in the oven door, I spotted a bright orange flame on one side of the lower heating element. Needless to say, the oven no longer functioned. Budley's first comment was, "Is it time to start replacing major appliances?"

My frugal nature rebelled at this suggestion. "Oh, no," I replied. "We can replace the heating element, and it'll be fine." I turned on the broiler and adjusted the temperature, hoping the roast would cook just as well that way. It didn't, and I wound up putting it on the stove top with two burners on underneath it. The roast got done, but by dinnertime, although it was tasty, it hadn't quite reached the falling apart stage I would've preferred.

While it was cooking, I got online, found a source for the new bake element (which is its proper name) and ordered it. On Monday, I received an email saying that it had shipped. In preparation for its arrival, I decided to clean the oven, which had never truly been cleaned in its life. I didn't even have any oven cleaner in the house. The oven was self cleaning, but without the bake element, I doubted that feature would work.

I took the oven door off and set it aside, removed the racks, and inspected the element. Interestingly enough, it didn't appear to attach the way I thought the replacement part would. Curious, I unscrewed the screws holding it in and attempted to pull it out. Instead of coming loose completely, there were wires attached.

Hmm.... For an element that claimed to have a "push in" attachment, this didn't seem right. Whatever, I thought, and lifted the element up out of the way so I could clean underneath it.

Have you spotted my error yet? No? Well, the wires in the back touched something when I lifted it, sparked and tripped the circuit breaker. With electric shock warnings all over the damn stove, I had neglected to follow the most elementary of safety precautions by either unplugging the stove or cutting the power to it.

Clearly, those wires would also need to be replaced. I pulled the stove out of its niche, unplugged it, and attempted to remove the back panel. One of the screws came out easily, but the other was rusted shut. I sprayed it with WD-40 and got back online to look for the replacement wires.

I never found any wires, but what I did find was a review of the part I had already bought where someone else had been as stupid as I was and wound up having to call a repairman to replace those same wires.

While debating my next move, I cleaned the floor, walls, and cabinet sides of the horrific nastiness the stove had been hiding. For this job, I recommend Windex, which cut the grease better than anything else I had on hand.

My next task was to call Budley at work and report my stupidity. Being the safety-conscious engineer that he is, I figured he'd throw a fit. He didn't. However, he did report nearly having an accident of his own when I told him my story. The fact that I was talking to him proved I hadn't been electrocuted, but it scared him, nonetheless. Since he didn't even want me using the part of the stove that still worked, we decided to simply go out that evening and buy a new stove. So I got back online and found the stove I wanted in stock at Menard's.

Throughout this day, my nose, which had been a bit stuffy the previous evening, began to run like a faucet. Not a leaky faucet, mind you, but a full-on stream of watery mucus. I took a Benadryl and soldiered on.

My next task was to put the door back on the stove, which requires little pins to be inserted as it's being removed to keep the hinges in the neutral position. One of those had flown out as I was removing the door, leaving the very stiff hinge in the engaged position. I wrestled with it for some time, ultimately deciding that it was a two-person job and that if I continued, I would at the very least lose a finger. Sam came home from work not long after that, I pried the hinge up with a screwdriver, pushed it further with the handle of a wrench using both hands while Sam inserted the pin. Simple, easy, perfect. I'd only needed three hands to do it.

Sam and I wrestled the door back onto the stove. Then I removed everything from the bottom drawer, which also had never been cleaned, pushed the stove back into its niche so I could at least get to the microwave, and waited for Budley to get home. When he arrived, I called Menard's (at his insistence) to verify that the stove was indeed available in the store and the saleslady assured me they had one there in a box.

The saga took a new twist after that. Because we'd let the fire go out in the woodstove, Budley had planned to get up on the roof and clean out the chimney that evening. The other half of that bit of sidetracking involved the load of wood that had to be removed from the trailer before we could use it to get the new stove. Our current truck has a cap on it, which prevents tall items from being loaded onto the bed. So we unloaded the wood  onto the porch.

About this time, I realized that Budley was also sniffing and coughing. Apparently, he'd caught the same cold that I had. Sam had been down with a cold the week before, but neither Budley nor I had caught it as yet. I'm guessing our day trip to Evansville on Saturday was responsible. Can you guess why?

By the time Budley had cleaned the chimney and I had wolfed down a sandwich (he claimed not to be hungry), I was blowing my nose every thirty seconds. I took another Benadryl and got in the truck with my purse, a cup of tea, and a box of Kleenex. We drove to Bloomington, picked out some new cargo straps to tie the stove to the trailer with, bought another two packages of Benadryl and some cough drops, then went back to get the stove. I gave the saleslady my name, she printed out the invoice, and we went up front to pay for it. Have you spotted the omission yet?

We drove around to door #10 at the back of the store and I waited in the truck while a guy on a forklift brought the stove and loaded it on the trailer. Budley strapped it down, which took several minutes. By the time he'd finished, I'd gone through another six or seven very well-used Kleenexes, and we headed for home.

But the adventure wasn't over yet. To get the old stove out of the house, we had to move all of this out of the way.

That cabinet is full of my grandmother's china, and the boxes are the file boxes for everything from tax returns to royalty statements, all of which were extremely heavy. Fortunately, somewhere along the line, we had purchased a dolly, otherwise we'd still be wrestling with this stuff and the stove a day later.

We got the old stove out, brought in the new one, cut it out of its box, and began searching for the cord. There wasn't one. Having cursed the saleslady for not mentioning that we might need to purchase a new cord, we then consulted the installation instructions and figured we could take the cord off the old stove and put it on the new one. So Budley went back outside, removed the plate on the back of the old stove, which  my shot of WD-40 had thankfully rendered removable, detached the cord and brought it inside. Meanwhile, I cut the box into strips to use for kindling. I washed the greasy goop off of the cord, he attached it, then we leveled the stove and shoved it into its final resting place. I told Bud and Sam to stand back while I turned on the power. Sam immediately voiced his approval of the blue display panel. I set the clock and christened the stove by frying eggs for a late supper.

The stove now looks quite at home with all the stuff on it while the old stove sits forlorn on the trailer.

One of these days we'll haul it off to the recycling center, but for now, it serves as a reminder of the past and all the Thanksgiving dinners and everyday meals through which it performed its duties like a champ. The controls on the new stove are different. They don't have the numbers to remind me that most things are best cooked on 6.5 while dosas (a kind of Indian pancake) turn out perfectly on 5.5. I have to learn where those sweet spots are all over again. It's probably a bit odd to feel sentimental about a stove, but that's just the way I am.

Giveaway today on Casablanca Authors!

Post a comment on Casablanca Authors today for your chance to win a signed copy of Wildcat!

Tasty Tuesday Chocolate Cookies!

Many, many moons ago when my sons were very young, I joined a play group so my kids wouldn't grow up out here in the middle of nowhere without ever having the chance to play with other children. One of the mothers in the group was Lisa, the wife of the pastor of a local church. Not long after we met Lisa, the ladies of the Women's Ministries from her church began putting together a cookbook, to which I contributed a couple of recipes. After the book was printed, Lisa had a party and served some goodies made from those recipes. She had also made these cookies, which were NOT in the cookbook! After tasting these soft, chewy delights, I demanded the recipe and wrote it down in the back of the dessert section.
Per Sam's request, I made a batch a few days ago. I hadn't made them in years--and there's a good reason for that. If you think chocolate chip cookie dough is good, don't try eating any of this stuff. You'll never bake the cookies if you do!

Chocolate Cookies

Ingredients

1/4 cup shortening
1/2 cup butter
2 tsp vanilla
2 cups sugar
3/4 cup cocoa
4 eggs
2 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp salt
2 cups flour
1/2 cup nuts (optional)
powdered sugar

Directions

Melt the shortening and butter in a large saucepan. Remove from heat and add sugar, vanilla, and cocoa and mix well. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each one. Add dry ingredients and mix well. Chill dough until firm. It will look like a big pot of chocolate fudge. Having said that, I double-dog dare you to make these without eating a big spoonful of the dough. Once you have eaten as much dough as you can hold, roll the remaining dough into balls, about 1 1/2 inches in diameter. Roll in powdered sugar. Bake at 350 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes and enjoy!

Guest Launch! Love Served Hot by Mellanie Szereto!

Please welcome my pal and fellow Sextet member, Mellanie Szereto to the blog! I had the pleasure of critiquing Love Served Hot, and enjoyed the story very much. The only thing lacking was the recipes for the scrumptious dishes served in the story. Today, I get my wish for at least one of them!

Thanks for letting me take over your blog today, Cheryl!

Hi, everybody! Read on to find out how you could win a $10 Amazon gift card!!!

My bio:

When her fingers aren't attached to her keyboard, Mellanie Szereto enjoys hiking, Pilates, cooking, gardening, and researching for her stories. Many times, the research partners with her other hobbies, taking her from the Hocking Hills region in Ohio to the Colorado Rockies or the Adirondacks of New York. Sometimes, the trip is no farther than her garden for ingredients and her kitchen to test recipes for her latest steamy tale. Mellanie makes her home in rural Indiana with her husband of twenty-seven years, their two children, and two cats. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Indiana Romance Writers of America, Hearts Through History Romance Writers, and PASIC.

Website: http://www.mellanieszereto.com

Blog: http://www.mellanieszereto.blogspot.com

Facebook page: Mellanie Szereto

Besides giving everyone a peek at my newest release, Love Served Hot, I’m sharing the recipe for my heroine’s favorite dish. Here’s a hint about why it’s her favorite!

Blurb:

As acting director of her uncle’s retirement village, Lilith Montgomery must hire a chef for the new restaurant. She’s interviewed several candidates, but instantly decides on the sexy Irishman whose culinary creations give her foodgasms. Her rotten luck with relationships makes her determined to resist her attraction to him, even if it means sneaking into the kitchen at night for a taste of his delectable entrées.
Flynn Hastings is finally getting his life back on track after a year of anger and guilt over his sister’s death. He’s returned home to be near his family and has found the perfect job—with one small problem. His boss makes him want to cook in more than the kitchen. Putting aside his hard and fast rule about mixing business with pleasure, he sets his sights on Lilith, hoping their budding friendship turns out to be more than a flash in the pan.

Buy links:

Amazon, B&N, All Romance eBooks, Smashwords

Excerpt:

Plating two modest servings of iron skillet-seared salmon on beds of rice, Flynn added a sprig of fresh dill to each. He dropped a couple handfuls of pasta into the pot of boiling water and gave it a stir. The timer in his head set itself, the ticks so automatic he no longer had to check his watch.

He returned to the dining room to set a dish at Ms. Montgomery’s place, reciting the information she’d likely want to know. “Entrée number one. Dilled Salmon with Spinach and Brown Rice Pilaf. High in Omega-3 fatty acids, complex carbs, and iron. Moderate sodium content. Most vegetables and fresh mushrooms can be substituted for the spinach. And it’ll be served with a variety of sides.”

The aroma rising from the table made his stomach rumble. Taking the seat across from her, he waited for her to taste the offering.

She lifted the fork to her lips. Several moments passed with no indication of her like or dislike of the fish. The only movement of her face was an occasional blink and rhythmic chewing.

A bite of rice followed, her reaction as stiff and bland as the first one. He might’ve expected unresponsive behavior from a food critic, but not from a potential employer.

Unable to restrain his need to know if the food warranted the lack of emotion, he flaked off a piece of salmon and settled it on his tongue. The texture was perfect—not tough or chewy. A mix of mild fish flavor, salt, black pepper, and freshly chopped dill spread over his taste buds. It tasted exactly the way it had the thousands of times he’d prepared it.

Could the rice be the problem?

He slid the fork under the grains, certain he had the right proportion of spinach to rice. Leaning over the plate, he lifted the bite to his mouth. The rice was firm but not crunchy, the spinach and seasonings adding enough hint of flavor to complement the earthy tone of the dish.

Taking a peek at his dining partner, he finished chewing. He’d no more than swallowed when she shuddered and closed her eyes. They opened again, staring straight at him with a slightly glassy look as she pulled in a shaky breath.

Please don’t tell me she’s allergic to—

“Oh my.” She fanned her fingers at her face as she squirmed in her seat.

No cayenne. No hot pepper sauce. No peppers, period—not even black in the rice—and only the lightest dusting of freshly cracked on the fish.

Sifting through the ingredients in his mind didn’t help identify the culprit. “Are you all right?”

Her tight smile didn’t reassure him. She lifted her napkin to dab at her lips, not quite hiding her quick exhale. “Um, yes. I’m fine. Good. Shall we try the next?”

Wasn’t she going to comment on the entrée? Or had she decided to wait until she’d completed the taste testing to evaluate the samples?

“Good” could’ve referred to the dish, couldn’t it?

Pushing up from his chair, he paused before setting off for the kitchen again. The dish had been better than good, and he shouldn’t put too much stock in her response. Confidence in his cooking skills had never been an issue for him.

Drain and dish up the pasta.

Ladle the sauce.

Position the port.

Garnish.

He was on his way in less than two minutes.

His judge slid her now-empty plate to the side and drained her glass.

Empty?

She had to have inhaled the rest of her salmon and rice while he was gone. That fact alone eliminated the possibility of a known allergy to the fish.

Her gaze seemed glued to the dishes in his grasp. “This must be entrée number two. Campanelle and Portabellas with Roma Tomato Sauce.”

Flynn bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning aloud as he placed the pasta dish between her utensils. Her husky tone suggested she might prefer food to sex. A combination of the two would certainly be interesting.

Just what I need—to lose this gig before I get it. Focus, damn it!

He’d already risked making a bad impression with the stupid stocking comment, no matter how sexy her legs were. Adjusting the front of his chef’s coat to hide his body’s reaction to her voice, he refilled her glass and then rounded the table to sit opposite her again.

“Thanks.” This time she hesitated a couple seconds before picking up her fork and knife. “Tell me more about the vegetarian selection.”

Curious to see if her expression became an unreadable mask, he launched into a full description. “The pasta is made from chickpea flour instead of semolina. Higher protein, fewer carbs. Whole wheat or whole grain is another possibility, but I’d add a protein to the sauce to make up the difference. The ports are seared in olive oil for good fats. Freshly grated Parmesan for vegetarian, or without for vegan.”

She held her loaded fork near her chin. “Chickpea pasta sounds fairly expensive and not readily available. What protein options would you use?”

“Cannellini works really well. Marinated and sautéed tofu is another. Black beans.”

She gave a curt nod. The ruffled edge of the sauce-covered campanelle disappeared between her teeth. She looked more thoughtful than with the first entrée, her tongue sneaking out to lick her lips. Her fork clinked against the porcelain plate, and he held his breath for her verdict.

Her sudden gasp as she grabbed the edge of the table didn’t bode well. The small squeak probably meant she was in pain, and her fingertips turned white from her death grip.

Stumbling out of his seat, he rushed to her side. “You’re not all right. I’m not a doctor, but I’d guess acute appendicitis. Or maybe a really bad case of acid reflux.”

She shook her head, sending her strawberry-blonde ponytail swinging back and forth. “Fine. I’m fine. Really. I just, um, bit my tongue.” Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as she straightened in her seat. “You’re hired. Can you start work on Monday?”

Recipe:

Campanelle and Portabellas with Roma Tomato Sauce

1 lb. campanelle pasta

12 Roma tomatoes, peeled and chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced (about 1 teaspoon)

1/2 teaspoon basil

1/2 teaspoon oregano

1 teaspoon sugar (more or less, to taste)

1 cup Marsala (I prefer Taylor New York) or burgundy wine

6 oz. sliced portabella mushrooms

1 tablespoon olive oil

Freshly grated Parmesan

To peel tomatoes: Blanch in boiling water for 1 minute. Remove with a slotted spoon, plunging into a bowl of ice water. Let stand 2 minutes. Remove tomatoes from ice water. Skin should peel away easily.

Sauce: In a medium saucepan combine chopped tomatoes, garlic, basil, oregano, and sugar. Cook over medium heat for twenty minutes, stirring occasionally. Add Marsala. Reduce heat to medium-low. Simmer at least 20 minutes.

Pasta: Prepare campanelle according to package directions—ten minutes cook time for al dente.

Sautéed Portabellas: Preheat 1 tablespoon olive oil in an iron skillet over medium heat for 2 minutes. Carefully lay mushroom slices flat in pan. Cook until lightly browned. Turn over to brown second side. Remove to warm plate.

Assemble: Place a bed of campanelle on plate. Top with sauce and a mushroom slice. Sprinkle with freshly grated Parmesan.

Options: Add cannellini, black beans, or sautéed tofu to the sauce with the Marsala.

Enjoy—the book and the recipe! Leave a comment with the name of your favorite recipe for a chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card!

Christmas Goodies!

These are some recipes I've posted before, but somehow they got lost in the reboot of the blog.

This first recipe was invented by a wonderful lady named Gina Scalera who used to work at the Joseph-Beth Bookstore in Lexington. She died a couple of years ago, but when she was running the romance department at the store, she had a reading group. Each month they would meet to discuss a book, and Slave was the book of the month for November 2008. She would make up a new cookie recipe for each book, and this is the kind she made for Cat!

CAT'S M & M CANDY BARS

-2 cups unbleached Flour
-1 tsp. Baking Powder
-pinch of salt
-1/4 tsp. Baking Soda
-2/3 cup unsalted Butter, softened
-2 cups firmly packed Brown Sugar
-2 lg. Eggs
-2 tsp. Vanilla Extract
-1 cup M&M Candies

Preheat oven to 350 (325 if using a glass baking pan). Lightly grease a 13"x9" baking pan.
In a small bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, salt and baking soda. Set aside.
In a large bowl cream the butter and brown sugar. Mix in eggs, one at a time, mixing well. Mix in the vanilla. Gently mix in the dry ingredients, until well combined. Stir in the M&M's.
Spread evenly into prepared pan. Bake 25 minutes, until lightly golden. Remove from oven and cool completely before cutting into bars.
Yield: 3-4 dozen, depending on size of bar. Can be frozen.

While I'm at it, I might as well give away all my secrets. This next recipe is one I got from my grandmother. Heaven knows where she found it, but it's one of those things that everyone seems to like. I've tasted several different variations and have tried substituting other ingredients, but, trust me, the original is best!

POTATO CASSEROLE
1 pkg Ore-Ida hash brown patties (27 oz) thawed and crumbled up (You can use the bag of shredded hash browns, but it isn't as good.)
1 tsp salt
¼ tsp pepper
½ cup chopped onion
1 can Campbell's cream of chicken soup
1 cup sour cream
2 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese

Mix all together and spread in greased 9 X 13 pan
Mix one stick melted butter with 1 ½ cups of crushed cornflakes and spread over the top.
Bake @ 350 for 45 minutes to 1 hour.

Merry Christmas!

Tasty Tuesday Pumpkin Casserole!

Recently, I've been delving into Indian cuisine while researching a new book. I've learned to make all sorts of interesting things, but along the way, the spices have crept into my everyday cooking repertoire. Not long a go, I baked a pumpkin. I froze most of the puree, but had about a cup or so left over and figured I would use it for something--hopefully before it went bad on me. A day or two later, it occurred to me to substitute the pumpkin for the asparagus in my asparagus pudding recipe and add some Indian spices. I thought it turned out rather well. 

Pumpkin Casserole  
 

Ingredients:
1 egg
1 cup pumpkin puree
dash of cayenne
2 tsp garam masala  (If you're not in the mood for Indian spices, you could substitute 2 tsp pumpkin pie spice)
1/4 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup flour
3/4 cup grated colby jack cheese
3/4 cup milk

Directions:
Place all ingredients in the blender and blend until smooth. It will look like really thick pumpkin soup. Pour into greased casserole dish and bake at 400 degrees for 45 min until the middle puffs up (it will sink a little after you take it out of the oven) and the top is lightly browned.

I'm also blogging on Casablanca Authors today, and I posted my hash brown potato casserole recipe there. Check it out if you're feeling hungry! http://casablancaauthors.blogspot.com/