#WontBeErased
‘One Thing or Another’ Interview Podcast Launches with Guest Holly Palance
I’m excited to announce the launch of my new interview-only podcast, One Thing or Another (it gets its name from the column I’ve been writing for several years now). “Just me, a guest, a microphone, and you.” I’ll be doing these at least twice a month, possibly weekly as it gets up and rolling.
My first guest is Holly Palance, audiobook narrator, actor, writer, and the superb voice for the audiobook edition of my latest, Black Cat White Paws: A Maggie Dahl Mystery. Holly does an amazing job, and happens to be a marvelous person, too. Join me for a conversation about her life and her career change into the world of audiobook narration.
The Twist Podcast #77: Cat Whispering, Art Houses of the Gods, and Headlong to the Midterms
Join co-hosts Mark McNease and Rick Rose as we talk about cat behavior (and a behaviorist), fabulous art houses you must visit, Horseface Nation, and the final rush to the midterms.
Enjoy The Twist on Libsyn, iTunes, SoundCloud, Stitcher,YouTube, and TheTwistPodcast.com.
Copyright 2018 MadeMark Publishing
The Twist Podcast #77: Cat Whispering, Art Houses of the Gods, and Headlong to the Midterms
Join co-hosts Mark McNease and Rick Rose as we talk about cat behavior (and a behaviorist), fabulous art houses you must visit, Horseface Nation, and the final rush to the midterms.
Enjoy The Twist on Libsyn, iTunes, SoundCloud, Stitcher,YouTube, and TheTwistPodcast.com.
Copyright 2018 MadeMark Publishing
Lee Lynch’s Amazon Trail: Witch Spittle

Photo by Sue Hardesty
By Lee Lynch
Oh, yes, we had fun this year decorating for Halloween. For a couple of hours, I didn’t once think about the ghouls in D.C.
We don’t get trick or treaters here, but we have a lively neighborhood of adults from 55 to 95, ourselves included, who get a kick out of holiday trappings. Our plastic Frankenstein mat screeches bloody murder when we open or close the garage door. Half the time we scare—and laugh—ourselves silly.
It had been many full moons since we last dragged out our spooky paraphernalia. My sweetheart exhumed it from the treasure chest that is our garage and instructed me to decide what should go where. Me? Organize? The prospect was scarier than an army of menacing phantoms.
I somehow coped.