The Chef and The Ghost of Bartholomew Addison Jenkins is set in a little town on the Hudson River in 1982. The early 80’s were not a time for the kind of delicious cocktails that have become common in the past decade or so—but there were still a few bartenders around who remembered the classic drinks from before Prohibition, like The Aviation. Alma Kobel, the main character of this book, gets to taste one of those antique and potent drinks not long after she meets the ghost of Bartholomew Addison Jenkins.
An Aviation is a gin drink, served in a pretty martini glass. It’s an iridescent, slightly purple color, a little sweet and a little tart at the same time. Potent and suave, it leaves Cosmos in the shade. You’ll have to find two unusual bottles at a good-sized liquor store or order them online: Crème de Violette and Maraschino Liqueur. It’s worth seeking them out so that you can strap in and take off!
The Aviation
2 oz good gin (I like Beefeaters for this drink)
¾ oz freshly squeezed lemon juice
just under half an oz each of Maraschino Liqueur and Crème de Violette (or less, to taste)
for garnish: a cocktail cherry
Shake the gin with the juice and the liqueurs hard over plenty of ice and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a cherry. Note: Maraschino is NOT Cherry Heering! It’s clear in color and Luxardo makes a good version of it these days. It’s worth owning some, because you can make Hemingway Daiquiris with it, too. I’ll include one of them in my next book! If you can’t find Crème de Violette, you can make the drink without it, subbing a bit more Maraschino. It won’t be quite as sexy, but it’ll still be darn good.
The Chef and the Ghost of
Bartholomew Addison Jenkins
Aletta Thorne
Genre: paranormal romance,
mainstream romance, holiday
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Date of Publication: October 26, 2017
ASIN: B076WJK63L
Number of pages: 158
Word Count: 51,000
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Tagline: What happens if you have a one-nighter—with a ghost?
Book Description:
Autumn, 1982. MTV is new, poodle perms are the rage, and life just might be getting better for Alma Kobel. Her ugly divorce is final at last. Her new job as chef at Bright Day School’s gorgeous old estate is actually fun. But the place is haunted—and so is Alma’s apartment. Bartholomew Addison Jenkins’ ghost has been invisibly watching her for months.
When he materializes one night, Alma discovers Bart—as he likes to be called—has talents she couldn’t have imagined…and a horrifying past. What happens if you have a one-nighter with a ghost? And what happens if one night is all you want—and you end up ghosting him?
Some spirits don’t like taking “no” for an answer.
Excerpt:
A ghost. Of
course he was a ghost—even though before that night, she’d never felt anything
spooky at her place in the almost-year she’d lived in it. Alma still had the
plate with the omelet on it in one hand. Ghosts didn’t eat, did they? She held
it out to him anyway.
“Go ahead and
have your supper,” he said. “I don’t need food. I take it you understand why.”
Alma nodded, not
sure what to say. For a ghost, the man looked rather … dashing, she decided was
the world. He must have been muscular in life. There were nicely rounded biceps
under that loose shirt, and they showed when he moved his arms. His knee knickers fit tightly over a flat
belly, and his stockings made his calves look like they were made out of
smooth, white marble. His eyes were a startling, luminous golden brown.
“Sadly, we are
still perfectly able to smell a good meal cooking.”
“We?” Alma said.
The man nodded.
“Your dead,” he said, solemnly.
“My dead?” she
said.
“Well, you live
here, don’t you? So, I’m your dead, now.” He stopped looking so serious then
and as if guys in knee knickers and white stockings were born doing it, he
opened her refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of Chablis. “Here, give me
your glass,” he said, and topped it off. The glow from the refrigerator’s light
made him even more luminous—and just the slightest bit translucent.
“Thanks,” she
said, although it was her wine. She put her plate and glass down on a little
enamel-topped kitchen table she’d bought at a local church thrift shop and
pulled out one of the table’s funky old chairs for herself.
“Fork? Napkin?”
he said, pulling those things out of the drawers next to Alma’s stove. Alma
used cloth napkins from the restaurant supplier—big white ones.
“You know where
my things are,” she said, spreading the napkin across her lap.
“That shouldn’t
surprise you,” he said. “Eat your omelet while it’s hot. Go ahead.”
Alma took a
bite. “Um, the pepper grinder on the stove?” she said. “Could you, please?”
“My lady.” He
smiled and handed it to her with a little bow.
She ground a little pepper over her plate and
took another bite and sipped her wine. He sat down across from her, put his
elbows on the table, and his chin in his hands.
“I enjoy
watching you eat.”
“Okay, I guess.
It’s not … weird?”
“No.”
A ghost is watching me eat an omelet. “What’s
your name?”
“Bartholomew
Addison Jenkins,” he said. “These days, I just use Bart.”
“These days. But
you’ve been here since you…”
“Since 1784,” he
said.
“Which was when
you died, I guess.”
“I must tell
you, dear lady, saying that to one of us is considered rude. In better ghostly
circles, that is. Some of us are not aware we are dead. Some of us do not like
to be reminded of it.”
About the Author:
Aletta Thorne believes in ghosts. In her non-writing life, she is a choral singer, a poet, a sometimes DJ, and a writer about things non-supernatural. But she’s happiest in front of a glowing screen, giving voice to whoever it is that got her two cats all riled up at three AM. Yes, her house is the oldest one on her street. And of course, it’s quite seriously haunted (scared the ghost investigator who came to check it out). She is named after a little girl in her family who died in the late nineteenth century, at the age of two. The Chef and the Ghost of Bartholomew Addison Jenkins is her first romance.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alettasghosts/
And personal: https://www.facebook.com/aletta.thorne.3
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