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Golden Pumpkin Cookies

      Orange Rock Cookies

      Ted’s Coconut Kisses

      Miscellaneous

      Deviled Eggs

      Dill Pickle

      Homemade Noodles

      Parsley Sandwich Sauce

      Potato Refrigerator Rolls

      Sweet Raisin Stuffing

      Cranberry Cordial

      Frank’s Mead

      Ward’s Coffee Liqueur

      Sweet Miscellaneous

      Almond Soup

      Chocolate Tapioca Pudding

      Chocolate Torte

      Doughnuts (Paczkis)

      Fig Puffs with Wine Sauce

      Rice and Nut Loaf

      Tropical Delight Salad

      Quince Honey Jam

      Sweet Quince Preserves

      Final Thoughts

      A Better Way to Present a Fish

       About the Authors

DEDICATION

      ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

      MY THANKS TO THE FOLLOWING PEOPLE:

		Richard Hunt and his wife, Linder Hunt, for her expertise with the recipes.
		Jack Heffron, for the short time that I worked with you.
		Scott Schwimmer, my attorney, who loves me even when I do not listen.
		Jen Gates, my literary agent, whose great advice is only a phone call away.
		Jill Parsons Stearns for having great friends in the right places.
		David Powers—I could not have done it without you. Amazing you could make sense of my rambling; your talent makes a great story. Thanks also to your wife, Elizabeth, and your children for letting me have your extra time for our project.
		My family and friends, always in my thoughts.
		Most important, my clients who encountered chatty earthbound spirits with fond memories of food—we can all enjoy the fruits of those reminiscences!

      —Mary Ann Winkowski

      ONE OF THE FIRST THINGS I REMEMBER is how proud I was when I wrote a “story” about a truck when I was about six years old, and how excited my parents were to read all ten words of it. My parents, Kay and Ken, were supportive of my efforts then and have never stopped being supportive of me—even when I switched my major from journalism to creative writing, and later when I took a job as a coffee-shop barista after leaving college, so I’d have enough spare time to write. Thanks for everything, Mom and Dad.

      My wife, Elizabeth, has always been just as supportive, never batting an eye when we made the “five-year plan” after getting married, where she would work full-time and I would write, before we both settled down and got real jobs. Without her and without those five years, I know I would never have been able to keep writing at the forefront of my life, and without her now, fifteen years later, I know I would never find the time and peace of mind to keep writing. Thanks, Elizabeth—you always make it mean something, even when it doesn’t.

      I must also thank my young children, Gabe (age 10), Evie (age 7), and Phina (age 4), who somehow managed to play quietly while I sat at the computer in a corner of the living room and wrote up the stories for this book. I know it was hard for them to understand why they had to be so quiet, especially in the dead of winter when they couldn’t go outside to play, but they managed to pull it off with only a few disasters. Thanks for reminding me what it’s like to be a kid, my little turkeys.

      Of course, it goes without saying that I owe Mary Ann more thanks than I’ll ever be able to muster. Her level-headed, no-nonsense, and honest approach to everything—including her own amazing ability—is a trait that sets her far apart from the crowd. Without it, I don’t think I could have got through this book, and without her confidence in me, even when I lacked confidence in myself, I wouldn’t have had a book to get through in the first place. Thank you, Mary Ann—I will never be able to repay you for everything you’ve done for me and everything you’ve taught me over the last decade.

      I’d also like thank my college roommate and ever-present friend since then, Erich Burnett, who not only gave me my first paid writing assignment, he helped me hone my journalistic skills to the point that I was later able to join him on the editorial staff at Scene in Cleveland. He was also the person who introduced me to Mary Ann when she told him she needed to find a ghostwriter—for that, Erich, I can never thank you enough.

      Finally, I’d like to thank my brother, who never did anything more with his stories than entertain me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten those nights, Andrew, when we’d sit up after we were supposed to be in bed and you’d make up stories on-the-fly, right as you told them to me. Without your tales of “The Veil of Black A” and “Starship One,” I don’t think storytelling would ever have occurred to me as a career choice.

      —David Powers

      INTRODUCTION

      WHEN I FIRST STARTED HELPING PEOPLE communicate with earthbound spirits and helping those spirits cross over, I had very little to go on. At first, my grandmother was always with me because I was just a child, but because Grandma didn’t have the same ability as me, she wasn’t really able to give me much insight into how I should go about things. Along the way, I picked some things up myself, was told some things directly by the spirits, and had my abilities extended by whatever Power gave me this gift in the first place.

      One of the things I picked up from my own experiences was to always take a notepad and pen with me into every job. It seems so obvious now, but back when I first started doing this in earnest, it didn’t occur to me. Usually the spirits were family members and I could just pass their messages on directly, or they were completely unrelated, and, to be frank, no one really cared what they had to say as long as they said goodbye and left them alone.

      Bess was the spirit who taught me to keep a notebook and pen with me at all times, and she was also the first ghost to ever give me a recipe. I’d never thought about lost recipes until Bess either. In hindsight, I should have expected both things: the need for paper and pen, and

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