Saturday, December 6, 2025
Meet Author Carla McBeath
Friday, December 5, 2025
Meet Author Joni Kerr
The beautiful diversity that makes our world so unique.
Joni's latest book
More about the author
When a child reads
Thursday, December 4, 2025
Meet Author Q.M. Gatlin
Poetry that blend emotion with visual storytelling
Q.M. Gatlin's book
More about the author
Who are you?
Wednesday, December 3, 2025
Meet Author Christina Weigand
Christian fantasy novels
Christina's book
Enchanted pages
Tuesday, December 2, 2025
Meet Author Heather Russell-Kay
There’s always room for wonder.
Heather's book
More about the author
Echoes of something wicked
Monday, December 1, 2025
Meet Author Erika M Szabo
A prolific writer
Erika M Szabo, a prolific and talented author with a fierce intellect and a penchant for exploring uncharted territories, is a woman of many skills and passions. She is known for her diverse range of writings that span historical fantasy, magical realism, cozy mysteries, sweet romance, and children's literature. Her writing style is both evocative and visceral, transporting readers into the depths of the characters' emotions with a few deft strokes of her pen.
Born in a small town nestled among the rolling hills of Hungary, Erika grew up with a deep love for literature and storytelling. She devoured books from a young age and soon began creating her own intricate worlds and characters. Her gift for storytelling is evident to all those who know her, and she is encouraged to pursue her passion.
As she grew older, Erika's thirst for adventure and new experiences led her to travel the world. She lived in various countries, soaking up their cultures and traditions, and incorporating them into her writing. Her travels also allowed her to meet a diverse array of people, whose stories and perspectives she wove into her novels.
Despite her literary success and acclaim, Erika remains a humble and down-to-earth person. She often speaks of her belief in the power of words to connect and heal, and her writing reflects this deep empathy and understanding of human experience.
One of Erika's novel series
Listen to part of the audiobook
More books
More about Erika
Friday, November 28, 2025
December #MeetNewAuthors #FindNewBooks Event
#meetnewauthors #findnewbooks
The featured authors in December
The event is organised and presented by
Wednesday, November 26, 2025
Save The Last Slice
Grandma June's Thanksgiving advice
Mary stared at the empty chair at the head of the table, where Grandma June always sat. She adjusted the centerpiece, the same pinecones and dried berries arrangement Grandma had made every year, and she sighed.
The smell of cinnamon and cloves hung in the air, mingling with the lavender that still clung to the curtains Grandma had washed last spring. The wooden spoon Mary clutched had a hairline crack down its handle, smooth from years of Grandma's thumb rubbing the same spot.
Mary's fingers trembled slightly as she unfolded the recipe card for cranberry-orange relish, the corner stained with something that might have been butter from 1997. She squinted at the measurements, trying to decipher whether that was a one-third or one-half cup, while the marshmallows for the sweet potato casserole sat unopened beside her, each one the size of a golf ball. When she rolled out the pie crust, it tore. Why did I say I’ll cook Thanksgiving dinner? It’s going to be a disaster! I wish Grandma were still here. She made everything look so easy. She mumbled.
Mary watched her mother take a bite of turkey and reach for her water glass a little too quickly. Across the table, Aunt Deb chewed a green bean longer than seemed necessary. The silence stretched until Uncle Joe cleared his throat and launched into the same story about his golf tournament that he'd told at Easter. Three different forced laughs followed, none reaching their eyes. The empty chair at the head of the table seemed to grow larger.
After dinner, Mary slipped away from the halfhearted card game in the living room. In the kitchen, the last slice of pumpkin pie sat on Grandma's blue plate, the one with painted violets around the rim. The whipped cream had collapsed, trickling down into the filling like tears. Mary's finger traced the plate's edge, remembering Grandma's hands lifting the last slice of pumpkin pie, passing it to Cousin Emma, who'd just failed her nursing exam. The year before: Uncle Joe got the last slice, right after the layoffs. And once, to Mary herself, when she'd arrived with puffy eyes and no boyfriend, Grandma's weathered hand covering hers as she whispered, "Sweet things help mend tender things."
Mary's gaze drifted across the kitchen until it landed on Lily. Her niece sat on the linoleum, one hand buried in Rusty's golden fur, the other tracing invisible patterns on the floor. No humming. No fidgeting. Just those wide brown eyes staring at nothing.
Mary lifted the blue plate and grabbed two forks from the drawer. "Scoot over," she whispered, lowering herself beside Lily.
Lily's fork hovered, then dipped. Their shoulders touched as they ate, the only sounds Rusty's gentle panting and metal occasionally scraping ceramic. “I’ve been struggling at school. I have a hard time keeping up,” Lily confessed, sobbing. “It’s just too much! I’m never going to be a doctor.”
“There, there,” Mary patted the young woman’s hand. “The first year is the hardest. Once you develop your study routine and you remain consistent, it will get easier.”
“Do you think so?” Lily asked with a slight hope in her voice.
“I’m sure,” Mary laughed. “Remember? I’ve been there and done it. It wasn’t easy, but hard work and dedication always pay off.”
That night, while returning Grandma's recipe cards to their box, Mary's fingers brushed against an envelope. Inside: a yellowed index card with loops and swirls she'd recognize. The ink had faded to the color of light purple.
Mary traced the handwriting with her fingertip, leaving a smudge where a teardrop fell and heard her grandmother's voice in her mind.
Remember how I saved the last slice for those who needed it? Keep the tradition. There's always someone at the table who needs to be seen and heard.

















































