Tillie's Tale Blog Tour! (+$25 Amazon GC Giveaway!)

Title: Tillie's Tale

Author: Mindy Mymudes

Series: N/A

Pages: 254

Date Published: March 2015

Publisher: MuseIt Up 

Format: Kindle

Genre: Animal 

Source: Goddess Fish Blog Tours
Blog!

Synopsis:

Who is the mysterious ghosty haunting puppygirl Tillie? And why? George, the magical basset hound familiar is on the trail.

It’s not often a basset hound puppy is haunted by an unhappy ghost, but George’s packmate, Tillie, manages to attract one. George and Tillie need to find out how to help the ghost before she turns into a poultry-ghost.

~Baking with George~

Since this post is MY choice, I walloped, I mean, asked nicely, the lady with the hands to share some of my favorite treat recipes—George.

My Favorite! Liver Brownies! Yum! Droolworthy. Four Paws Up! 2 lbs chicken livers
2 C corn meal
2 C wheat germ
2 eggs
2 1/2 tsp. granulated garlic (not salt)
1/2 C dried parsley
Liquefy livers in food processor, pour into mixing bowl and add other ingredients. Mix until smooth like a brownie batter. Spread on a cookie sheet (1/2 sheet cake size) (My Girppup uses parchment paper to line the pan) until it's evenly spread about 1/3 inch thick. Bake at 350 F for about 35 minutes. When cool, give the entire batch to me. Or why wait? Just give me the ingredients and I’ll take care of the rest. Don’t need a middlePeep.

My Favorite! Tuna Fudge! Yum! Droolworthy! Four Paws Up!
2
(6 ounce) cans tuna (do not drain)
1 1⁄2
cups whole wheat flour 1 
tablespoon garlic powder 2 
eggs, lightly beaten
1⁄4
cup parmesan cheese
Mix all ingredients with an electric mixer until well blended.
Spread mixture into a greased 9x9 cake pan.
Bake covered at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.
Store in refrigerator or freeze. Or, just give me the pan. I’ll take care of it.

Now go out and hunt for your pack. Return and use your thumbs (the only reason we really need you) and make these for us. We will share our drool, our fur, our breath, and our farts with you.

Love and drool,

George

~Try an Excerpt!~

“Wrrrtttle.”

I turn to Tillie. That’s a sound I haven’t heard before. She makes it again.

“Wrrrrttttle.”

Tillie’s tail is spinning in circles. She’s staring at a filmy thing sitting on the steps of an old, rough-brick building. I know it’s really a large Peeps’ den, but since it’s bad to be in the dog house, I assume it’s bad to be in a house. Why don’t they just call it a den if houses are so bad? From the smelltaste of cooking, Peeps, dust, skin, and the other stuff Peeps like, there are many small dens inside. Tillie “wrrrrrtttles” again and adds a soft “wuff.” Her front goes down into a play bow. The thing she’s trying to get to play is shimmery and clear, with thick and thin spots swimming on the surface.

“Snoof. Snuffle” I lick my lips. There’s a disturbing smelltaste of dustmoldlightningozone.

Oh mousefleas.

It’s a ghosty.

Tillie bounces closer and stops. I follow, now that I’ve smelltasted it. It’s not a Badthing, but it could’ve been. Tillie needs to learn that not everything is okay to play with. Plus, it’s not polite to get the Boypup in trouble. At least this thing is just a ghosty, not a Horrible Hodag. That was Joey’s last friend. I shudder. Dragons don’t make good friends.

This ghosty seems safe enough. I’ll have to get closer to make sure. I cross in front of Tillie, careful to not let the Peeps’ leashes get tangled. I hate it when they get wrapped under me and around my legs. It’s sort of fun when it happens to the Peeps, though.

Oh no. “Ah. Ahhhh. Ahchooo!” There are undertones of babypowderbittermums smelltaste. The thing looks like it’s wearing a dress. Its hair is in a tail with a ribbon tied into a bow. I think it’s a ghostygirl. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. One thing I do know, the young ones always need something. They can be almost as naughty as poultry ghosties.

When I was the same size as Tillie, I had one follow me home. It hung around my supper dish. Eating through a ghosty is irritating—they’re all cold and slimy inside. It only stayed a few days. It would’ve been shorter if it’d tried to eat my dinner. I would get very grumpy if a ghosty tries to eat my supper.

No, Tillie, don’t play with the ghosty. “Arrooo,” I bay in frustration. We don’t want to invite a ghosty home. “NoooOooo.”

She ignores me and tries to lean on it. That’s not a good idea. “Rooo!” Leave it!

The puppygirl falls through the ghosty and the ghostygirl cries without sound. Big tears roll over her face and splash on the ground. They don’t leave a trace.

I shake my head, flapping my ears over my eyes. No, this isn’t going to be good.

“What’s Tillie doing?” Joey is kneeling through the ghosty and stroking Tillie. Tillie gets up and tries to push him away. They both fall over. The ghostygirl continues to cry, ignoring the pile of living creatures in front of her.

Karly looks me in the eye, like I’m a mirror. “Um, don’t know.”

Her feather-light touch follows down our link. Ah, that’s what she wants. I didn’t think she was using my eyes to see her reflection. Nope. She wants to use my superior senses. I let her see the ghostygirl sitting in front of us. That’s the advantage of having a familiar. We can share our senses. As if I wanted to use Karly’s. All those colors are very distracting. That’s why she uses my eyes, ears, smelltaste, and touch. Humans are senseless.

Karly shrieks. Her eyes are round and wild. Her hair looks like a dandelion poof. I don’t like dandelion poofs. They go up my nose. She jumps back and yanks on her leash. My head is jerked to the side. Ouch. Didn’t expect that. I give her a basset stare-of-death. Unfortunately, bassets aren’t made for stares-of-death. We are a friendly lot, for the most part.

“What?” Joey asks, looking around.

“Mmm…mmm…maybe we should go home.”

What? I am certainly not done with my walk. I pull toward the park.

“I don’t want to,” Joey whines. For once I’m with him. “Tillie didn’t do her job. Mom’ll be mad if she goes in the house.”

Joey pulls Tillie to the grass strip between the sidewalk and the street. Yucky car path, it smelltastes bittersaltcarfarts. She leans forward in her collar, pulling like a sled dog. Nice. I give her a B for effort. Her style is promising. When she grows up she’ll be at least an A-.

Oh mousefleas, she’s trying to stay with the ghost.

Not good.       

“Aroooo!” Tillie, no! I bounce on my toes. She doesn’t get it. I pull Karly slowly to the ghost. My Girlpup is dragging her heels. I thought she knew enough not to pull. Sigh. Peep training never ends. C’mon, I need to get closer to the puppygirl before she gets in more trouble.

 I quickly back up, slide my head out of my collar, and bump Tillie away.

I can’t tell Tillie why it’s a bad idea to make friends with the ghostygirl. 

~Meet Mindy!~ 

I've worked in a hazardous waste lab, where under the sign for the Right To Know law, was added: if you can figure it out. I've been a metals tech, a bakery clerk, a professional gardener, taught human anatomy and ran two university greenhouses. Along the way I picked up my Master's Degree in Biology, specializing in the population genetics of an endangered plant. I am also a top breeder, handler, trainer of English springer spaniels, with three in the equivalent of the National Club's (ESSFTA) hall of fame. Every time I think I know dogs, another dog comes along and proves my beliefs are totally wrong.

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