Holiday Reading Rundown

After a few rough starts this holiday season, I finally got my Christmas reading fill with these three books. Nine stories, three time periods, and lots of Christmas Cheer!

Contemporary Christmas

The Night Before Christmas by Brenda Novak, Day LeClaire, and Molly O'Keefe

Ah, what fun it is to be surprised by two new-to-me authors. Both LeClaire and O'Keefe's stories kept me reading way past my bedtime. Fun? Check. Spirited? Check. Good dose of Christmas? Double check. Centered on family and growing these two romping tales will keep you laughing throughout. Novak's introductory story was a bit disappointing as I didn't feel a real connection to the characters. The survival story plot line was a bit misleading as most of story took place after the characters had been rescued. Hey, 2 outta 3 ain't bad!

Regency Christmas

The Heart of Christmas by Mary Balough, Nicola Cornick, and Courtney Milan

I cruised on by this book at least five times over the past month and finally picked it up because so many others raved about Courtney Milan's This Wicked Gift. Was I disappointed? Oh no. No, no, no. I adored this story. Such a mix of heartbreaking honesty and humor I haven't encountered in a long, long time. I will say that the story wasn't very ... Christmas-y but I didn't mind. I closed the book with a bit of sadness because the story had ended and I can't wait to read more Milan!

Western Christmas

Favorite Old Read

The Magic of Christmas by Carolyn Davidson, Victoria Bylin, and Cheryl St. John

Cheryl St. John's A Baby Blue Christmas is my favorite offering out of this Western anthology. I did a full review last year that you can find here. I was delighted to find that I loved this story just as much the second time around and I can't wait to read it again next Christmas.

And lucky for you, this book was released again this year so you can find it in stores today!

The Last Thing I'll Ever Say

The American Book Review has created a list of the best 100 last lines in fiction. Here are a few of my favorite from that list ...

Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigue, I have had my vision. –Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse (1927)

He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance. –Mary Shelley, Frankenstein (1818)

But I reckon I got to light out for the Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she’s going to adopt me and sivilize me and I can’t stand it. I been there before. –Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885)

Gumption

Anyone who has gumption knows what it is,

and anyone who hasn't can never know what it is.

So there is no need of defining it.

~ L.M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island

Cross Country Christmas Chapter 2

Chapter Two of my on-going Christmas story. Chapter one is available here. Happy Reading!

CHAPTER TWO

Thirty minutes later, they were arguing over the radio station.

“I said I wouldn’t talk.” Kale punched one of the presets. “I didn’t say you could control the noise.”

Gracie swatted his hand away. “Watch the road,” she said and switched the station back to the holiday channel she found minutes after leaving the airport. She sighed in contentment as “Silver Bells” wafted out of the stereo. “I think they have country versions on this channel.”

“I like other types of music, you know.”

“No, I didn’t. And surprise, I don’t care.”

She was really starting to regret this whole idea and that made her crabby.

What she really should have done, starting from the moment she realized her relationship, and her life as she knew it was over, was hopped a plane south. Two days ago, standing in their living room watching Tony destroy what was left of her pride, there wasn’t an ice storm. She should’ve gone upstairs, packed her things and jumped a plane to Mexico. Instead, she’d gone to Shelly’s and called her mother. And that, Gracie thought, was that. As soon as her mom said, “Oh Grace baby, come home for Christmas,” she couldn’t do anything else.

“Hey now.” Kale’s voice dragged her back to the overheated Mini. “No regrets.”

Gracie tugged off her wool red and white striped scarf, and attempted to do that with her bad mood. “Yeah. No going back now, right?”

As answer, he merged smoothly into the left lane and stomped the gas. They shot forward around a semi and quickly back into the right lane and onto the exit ramp for 1-75 that would take them into Tennessee. Before leaving the lot, they’d checked it on the map and calculated it would take them two and a half days to hit up Billings where Kale’s “chick” Jessica was waiting. From there, she’d go it alone another day to Seattle. Which would put her there right before Christmas Eve. If everything went smoothly. From the way Kale was driving, she wouldn’t be surprised to see signs for Montana tomorrow. The roads, thankfully, were clear although power lines all along the interstate drooped close to the ground, a mantle of ice sparkling in the murky sunlight.

“You always drive so fast?”

He shot her a cute grin. The sort that shot shivers sparking down her spine and melted away the rest of her crabbiness. Damn it.

“It’s the only way to go.”

“I bet you don’t get to drive a lot, huh?”

Kale grunted and shook his head.

“You must miss it,” she tried again. Despite his pledge to remain silent, Gracie reasoned she really couldn’t endure three plus days of silence. Besides which, she was insanely curious about the life of an honest-to-goodness star. It couldn’t be all goodness and light but neither could it be all that horrible.

“A little,” he allowed but she observed how his eyes cut left and right across the road and forgave him the white lie. She was a stranger after all. There was nothing stopping her from calling up People right then and there to give them an up close and personal interview.

Except that wasn’t her style and she should tell him that up front or else the miles would ride slow. She took a deep breath.

“Listen, I’m just trying to make conversation but I get it. You’ve been through the wringer with—well, your son—”

“Not mine,” he growled.

“Right,” she said quickly. “Sorry. Anyway, I’m not going to ask you about that and I’m not going to go running to the tabloids. O.K.? I just want to get home to my family. For Christmas.” And to her absolute horror, her voice broke on the last word. It was just as well though because his hands—really great hands too—relaxed on the wheel.

“O.K.,” he said then reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a silver handkerchief.

My God, the man carried around a handkerchief! He handed it to her without a word and she took it, pressed it to her nose and turned to look out the window. And then he reached over and turned up the radio as “White Christmas” flowed from the speakers.

“I thought you didn’t want to listen to holiday music.”

“You do,” he said, “and its my favorite.”

She nodded and continued to look out the foggy window. Oddly enough, it was her favorite too.

As they traveled further north, the landscape around them grew whiter, and the little Mini clung to the road as the wind battered it back and forth. Small lines appeared on Kale’s forehead. Gracie really hated to tell him they needed to stop. She shifted back and forth in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position. The digital clock read 3:03 pm. The next big stop on the map was Chattanooga but she didn’t think she’d make it. They passed a sign for Dalton. Gracie bit her lip, hard but it was no use.

“We have to stop.”

“So soon, huh?” he asked and chuckled.

Gracie gaped at him. Tony would’ve grumbled about high maintenance women and try to talk her out of it but Kale took the exit without further comment.

They came into Dalton and as Kale directed the car toward a McDonalds, Gracie waved him on to a Rite Aid on the corner. He put the car in park as it began to sleet. The only other vehicle in the lot was a rusted Ford pickup.

“Do you need anything?”

Little pellets of frozen snow tinned off the roof and windshield of their car. She opened the car door.

“Chocolate covered cherries.”

Gracie closed the door. “Really?”

He shrugged. “It’s a weakness. Can’t wait for Christmas to come around every year so I can stock up.”

He reached into his back pocket of those ridiculously tight jeans—God she loved a man who could pull that off—and handed her a twenty. Gracie considered giving it back to him for about three seconds but in the end, she knew she needed what he could give her. Somehow she’d find a way to pay him back. In the meantime, he needed chocolate covered cherries and she needed more than the three ounces of shampoo and conditioner the FAA allowed.

“Be back,” she called and hopped out of the car.

Once inside, she found the bathroom then grabbed a basket and cruised the aisles. On an end cap she hit the jackpot with holiday-themed beauty products. She threw in some peppermint scented moisturizer, vanilla and caramel shampoo/conditioner combo pack, and Burt’s Bees lip balm. She rounded the corner, passed a woman loading up on eggnog, and landed in the candy aisle. She dropped in three boxes of Queen Anne’s chocolate covered cherries. The kid running the checkout lane offered her a braces-filled smile and wished her a Merry Christmas.

“Merry Christmas to you, too.”

She stuffed the receipt into her wallet to calculate later. The change jiggled in her hand and she dropped it into the Salvation Army bucket. The collector waved his bell at her.

“Thank ya kindly, miss.”

Gracie felt almost close to normal as she picked her way back across the lot. But then she spotted the driver of the pickup and stopped short. She caught a glimpse of Kale frowning at her through the windshield but she didn’t have time to explain. She had to stop that man.

In the bed of the truck crouched a dog, its hair matted with red Georgia mud. From this distance she couldn’t tell the breed only that the dog was mid-sized and trembling. The man, tan Carhartt pulled over dirty overalls, stood on the back wheel. He leaned over the side of the truck and whacked the dog on the side of the head. The dog yelped.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” Gracie yelled and started toward the truck.

Kale was out of the car in no time. He reached her before she reached the dog.

“What are you doing?” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“I have to stop that guy,” she said and pushed around him. “I said stop!” she screamed as the man drew back for another whack. He did stop then but only to spit tobacco to one side before delivering the next blow.

Kale’s hand wrapped around her upper arm. She tugged.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

She needed to stop him. She needed to save the dog.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

That made her pause. “You’ll kill him?” she asked.

Kale raised his eyebrows at her and she flushed. “Right. You know what I mean.”

The dog whined, and Gracie’s poor battered heart twisted in her chest.

“Stop him,” she pleaded. Her voice sounded strange, as if coming from a long distance away.

Kale put his arm across her shoulders and forced her to slow down. “Follow my lead,” he muttered and she relaxed a little under his arm.

“Afternoon,” he said to the man.

“Whadaya want?” He leered at Gracie and bared his tobacco stained teeth. “I ain’t giving you no money. My old lady gave that Salvation fella all my change when she went it for my eggnog.”

“We’re not collecting.” Kale turned his body slightly to block her from view. “My sister here, she’s been wanting a dog.”

“Can’t have ‘em,” Tobacco Teeth spat. “Ain’t mine ta give. My wife’s and she’s sorta attached to ‘em.”

“I’m not talking about giving.”

Tobacco Teeth straightened and jumped down. Gracie swore she heard the dog sigh in relief.

“What’re talking about then?” He squinted at them. “She sure don’t look like no sister of yours.”

“Half.” Kale grinned at Tobacco Teeth all chummy like, and Gracie had to give him props. She couldn’t muster up anything that didn’t look like a punch straight to the guy’s rotting teeth. “Her mother married my dad. She’s older.”

Gracie elbowed Kale’s ribs. He winced but didn’t take his eyes of the guy. “I want to buy your dog,” he said, cutting to the chase. “What’ll you take for him?”

Tobacco Teeth rubbed a grease-coated hand over his sagging jaw line. He eyed the dog, then Kale. “Fifty’ll do it.”

If Kale thought it was too much, he didn’t quibble. He simply handed over a few bills and told Gracie to get the dog. She gave Tobacco Teeth a wide berth, not liking the look in his squinty eyes, and climbed the tail gate.

“Come here, sweetie,” she whispered to the dog. The sleet pounded harder. The dog turned its head toward her and she saw its eyes were all but frozen shut. “Come on, baby. You can do it.”

The dog didn’t move but its tail did thump half-heartedly against the truck bed.

“What’s its name?” she called over her shoulder.

Tobacco Teeth tore his gaze off her butt. “Toby.”

“Boy? Girl?”

“You ever hear a girl called Toby?”

Gracie ignored him and climbed gingerly over the side.

“Gracie, be careful,” Kale warned. “He might bite.”

“He won’t,” she said, eyes only for the dog. Up close he looked to be a golden lab. His paws were huge though his legs were short. He was young then, maybe no more than a year.

“Toby,” she crooned and laid a hand over his ears. He let out a pathetic dog-sigh and pushed his head into the warmth of her palm. Gracie fell in love. She gathered him close and handed him over the side into Kale’s waiting arms.

“Hurry up,” he said. “It’s cold.”

“Nice doin’ business with ya,” Tobacco Teeth called and chuckling, hopped into his truck, presumably to wait for his old lady and eggnog.

With Kale’s help, Gracie laid Toby in the back seat. They shuffled Kale’s guitar around to make enough room.

“Hurry,” Kale said again and she looked at him. “It wasn’t fifty. It was forty. All I got.”

Gracie couldn’t help it, she beamed at him and worked faster. When Toby looked mostly comfortable, Kale gunned the engine and peeled out of the lot. Their back tires spun for a second before catching and they made it to the interstate in less than two minutes.

She laid her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “My hero.”

His mouth flattened in a straight line. “Nope. Just doing what anyone would.”

A little bit of her jubilance faded at that. She looked back at the dog so she wouldn’t have to see that look on Kale’s face. Bitterness set heavily on him, dimming the mood inside the little car.

Toby stood, turned in two complete circles and settled himself. Gracie reached back, smoothed her hand over his soft head.

“He’ll need food,” she said. “And we’ll have to find a motel that allows animals.”

Kale glanced in the rearview mirror and some of the tension slid from his face. “Or sneak him in. He’s gonna need a bath. The boy stinks.”

Toby barked.

Gracie smiled. “I think he likes the idea.”

“You ever wash a dog before? They like it all right. But you won’t.”

She aimed a cheeky grin at him. “As a matter of fact, I’m—was dog groomer.”

Kale sputtered out a laugh. “You don’t say.”

“Yup. Back in Atlanta I was considered the best in the biz.” She paused for a minute so he would look at her. “At Petsmart.”

That earned her a full laugh and she allowed herself a little giggle too. It felt good to laugh. She hadn’t done a lot of that lately.

“Petsmart, huh?"

“Part-time. I did clerical stuff the other half of the time at Tony’s place.” She shrugged. “I quit the dog grooming thing while I was in the airport.”

“Tony?”

Gracie’s stomach dropped a little. She did not want to talk about Tony. So she punched him lightly in the arm.

“I don’t know you well enough for that, bro. Anyway, leaving Atlanta for good seems like a really good idea.”

He didn’t ask her what she meant by that and she as grateful. She just wanted to concentrate on getting to the next stop and not waste any time looking back.

“We got a lot of miles before Billings, girl.” He winked at her. “I’ll get it out of you. Sounds like a whopping good story.”

Cross Country Christmas Chapter 1

Throughout the month of December I'll be posting Cross Country Christmas - a short story I've been thinking about for awhile. I finally decided to give it a go and thought we could all use a bit of Christmas Cheer. At the bottom of this post you'll notice voting buttons for "like it" or "hate it". Comments are encouraged!

(Disclaimer - it's edited, but not well, so give me a break:))

So without further ado, read about Gracie and Kale's Cross Country Christmas ...

CHAPTER ONE

Gracie stood in the shut down Atlanta airport five days before Christmas and cursed anything to do with the holidays. For the seventeen-millionth time in the past hour a voice cut into the holiday music to cheerfully announce that all flights had been grounded due to the ice.

“Mom,” Gracie said into the phone.

“And then your grandma Willis will throw a fit, do-you-hear-me, a fit if you aren’t there to help her with the rice pudding and don’t even start me on your sister—”

“Mom,” Gracie said, louder this time and clutched her cell phone tighter, moving against the wall to get herself out of the way of the mob of angry holiday travelers. The heel of her boot caught on the rolly-thing of her suitcase and she stumbled back. “Mom, really, hush for a minute.”

But her mom kept on going and Gracie pictured her whirling around the kitchen, mixing this and that, shoving a baking sheet into the oven, taking stuff from the fridge, talking the entire time.

“You sister is eight months pregnant, eight Gracie, and she needs you now more than ever. Don’t you go disappointing her just ‘cause your plane’s been delayed a few minutes.”

“Try days, Mom. The whole Southeast’s shut down from this ice storm.”

“It’s Georgia, Gracie. There are no ice storms in Georgia.”

“There are too, Mom, but not many which is why everyone is freaking out.”

Her mother continued as if Gracie hadn’t spoken at all. “I’ve never known anything to stop you when you’re determined. So you get your little butt down to the Hertz counter and get yourself a car.”

Gracie stood on tiptoe and peered over the heads of those in front of her in line. “I’m there and I’m just warning you, it’ll take a miracle to get a car now. There’s at least ten people in front of me.”

“You’ll be fine,” her mom said and there was a clatter of a pan hitting the floor. “Oh fudge!” she yelled and then said, “have to go. We’re all counting on you. Forget about Tony and come home for Christmas.”

The line went dead.

Gracie sighed because she had managed to forget about Tony what with her mad dash to the airport and frustrating three hour wait before rushing to the rental car station. She shoved the phone in her coat pocket, hiking her large tote higher on her shoulder. The line moved up and she shuffled forward, keeping close to the mother and twin toddlers in front of her because people were line jumping left and right and she really, really, really didn’t feel like arguing with strangers today.

“Shit,” Gracie muttered and threw a dark look over her shoulder at the guy who laughed. Something about him tugged with familiarity but she didn’t have time for him or anyone else right now. She needed to concentrate all her efforts on getting a car and getting out to Seattle for the holidays.

Mind over matter Gracie girl, her dad’s voice echoed in her head and she focused on the black and yellow Hertz sign swinging above the reception desk, compliments of the blasts of hot air placed strategically throughout the airport. A really bad version of “Here Comes Santa Claus” sputtered through the overhead speakers and Gracie lifted her hair off her neck, eyes still on that sign and stumbled forward again, muttering under her breath, “I will get a car, I will get a car, I will get a car.”

“That’s the spirit,” the guy behind her said.

She ignored him and continued to mutter. “Mom will cut out your heart with toenail clippers if you miss Christmas. You will get a car and you will get to Seattle in time for Christmas Eve.”

“Sounds like a nice woman.”

“She is,” Gracie aimed over her shoulder, “now be quiet and let me focus.”

“Interesting technique, ask you shall receive, right? Maybe I should try that.”

Gracie spun on heel and thought oh shit. Yup, she knew he looked familiar because his face had been staring at her from the front of every gossip magazine in the airport. His guitar case slung across his back, she had no doubt it was Kale Sims, Ladies and Gentlemen, in the flesh. He wore an Atlanta Brave hat pulled low over his eyes and the collar on his wool coat turned up but she knew it was him. Still, she didn’t have time for the country star, no matter how attractive he was with all that chocolate brown hair covered by his hat and green eyes. She was a sucker for green eyes and right now she hated being a sucker for anything.

So she said, “Please let this man stop talking to me so I can concentrate on getting a car so my mom won’t find her way here and murder me with a beauty product while I sleep.”

He winked at her. “Who’re you talking to?”

“Santa Claus,” she snapped and pushed forward with the rest of the line. She was going to get a car, she knew it, and she was going to forget that she had just been really bitchy to the biggest thing to hit country music radio since Garth Brooks and George Strait combined.

“Does it really work for you?”

Gracie drew in a breath, reminded herself to be nice because it’s Christmas and smiled over her shoulder. “Fifty-fifty,” she said. More like ten-ninety but she wasn’t going to tell him that, he’d be smug and she hated smug on a man.

“Well hope it works for us both, I gotta get out of here.”

“Me too,” she muttered and her heart rate tripled as the woman and her two children moved away from the counter. The lady behind the counter aimed a tired look at Gracie and held out her hand for Gracie’s drivers license. She looked up as Gracie fumbled for her wallet. Her heavily lined eyes widened and her sparkly red lips stretched into a wide smile. She looked like an elf with her pointed ears and rosy cheeks. Gracie blinked in the light of the woman’s expression until she realized it wasn’t for her.

“Why I know who you are,” the woman, whose nametag read Della, drawled.

Gracie literally felt the heat of Kale Sims’ smile boring into her skull. “Do you now?”

Della bent forward over the counter, revealing copious amounts of cleavage and crooked a long finger at him. A dirty elf, Gracie amended. He stepped around her, nudging her gently with his hip and Gracie stumbled sideways.

“You’re Kale Sims.”

“And you’re Della,” Kale said and Gracie groaned because this was going to be bad. The country star placed his baseball hat over Gracie’s wallet and winked at Della. Apparently he’d forego his disguise in favor of getting what he needed. Gracie didn’t blame him but neither did she appreciate it.

“Have a car for me, ma’am?”

Della’s smiled widened and Gracie rolled her eyes. “Sure do, last one in fact.”

“Hey!” Gracie yelled.

Kale and Dirty Elf looked at her and Gracie flushed. “It’s my car.”

“Della here was talking to me,” Kale said, a little uptilt to his grin. Like he was challenging her or something.

Assmuch? Gracie thought and stepped up to accept the challenge. She’d had just about enough of men walking all over her in the past two days. Today was going to be different. Today she was getting the hell out of Atlanta and home to celebrate Christmas.

“Della here,” Gracie growled in what she thought of as a fairly good impersonation of Mr. Big Shot Country Star, “has my drivers license. And I bet Della here doesn’t want me to call her manager. Do you Della?”

The tips of Della’s elf ears burned red. “You wouldn’t,” she hissed.

That was it. Those were the words that sent Gracie Proctor over the edge.

She swatted the Braves hat off the counter and pointed her finger at Dirty Elf. “Hey. Don’t tell me what I would or would not do. It’s Christmas. I really don’t want to be mean and get you fired but I’m going to Seattle in the car you’re going to rent me. Got it?”

Della paled a little. “Got it. Credit card.”

Behind them Kale Sims sighed. “I had high hopes for you, Della. Good play,” he said to Gracie and ambled away to lean against a pillar, baseball hat firmly back in place. The rest of the line dispersed amid grumbles and a few threats about the mistreatment of customers.

Dirty Elf Della swiped Gracie’s card and eyed Kale over the rim of her computer screen. Her Santa-red nails clicked angrily across the keyboard.

“That’ll be six hundred ninety-five dollars and eighty-three cents.”

“He was leaving, you know?” Gracie said and slumped against the counter, trying to commiserate while her heart rate tripled because she really didn’t have the cash to cover the rental. “But now that he’s stuck here, maybe you could offer to show him around or something.”

Della scowled at Gracie, then brightened when the computer let out an indignant beep.

“Decline!” she squealed.

“What!” Gracie straightened. Damn it, she must have blown her limit shipping her family’s Christmas gifts. That was before she came home to find Tony sexing it up with his law partner in their living room. If he’d had the good sense to get caught sooner, she could have saved herself the hassle of USPS at Christmas. Dumbass.

“Oh Mr. Sims,” Della trilled. “If you’ll step over here please.”

“No.” Gracie pulled herself together in time to jam her body between the counter and the cowboy. She tried not to notice that he stood a good head taller than she and had really wide shoulders. Oh, and a rock hard chest. She knew this because it was currently pressed against hers. She shoved him away. “No, wait, I have another card.”

She flipped over her wallet and dug the into the little pocket behind her check book. Her emergency card. The one with a paltry fifteen hundred dollar limit. She never thought she’d have to use it but these past two days witnessed a lot of things she thought would never happen. And it was Christmas. She slapped the card to the counter as Kale heaved a sigh and went away.

Della rolled her eyes, swiped the card, then handed Gracie all the forms. Nine hundred dollars later because of added insurance due to the weather, and a brand new Rand McNally map sporting a jaunty silver bow, the car was hers.

Which left her with exactly six hundred dollars for gas, food, and lodging.

“Merry Christmas,” Della muttered as she handed over the keys.

Gracie managed a civil nod, then wheeled her suitcase around and headed for the sliding doors and out into the ice. Ice in Georgia. It was like a really bad Christmas movie. First she found Tony with that, that … well her, and then an inch of ice covered the entire Eastern seaboard and as far west as Illinois, making it impossible to get home and then she spent the last of her credit on a …

Gracie entered the Hertz parking lot and her heart took a nose dive.

She spent the last of her credit on that thing. A forest green Mini Cooper, with a snowball’s chance in hell of making it over the Rockies, sat in the numbered parking spot.

“It’s a beauty, isn’t it?”

She whipped around at the sound if his voice and her twenty dollar Payless boots slipped on the ice. She windmilled to the left, then the right, fighting for balance, and caught herself on the wheelie suitcase.

Kale Sims, damn his black soul, laughed.

“Aren’t you country boys suppose to help damsels in distress and all that crap?” she grumbled. Then, “What are you doing here? Did you follow me? I am NOT giving you my car.” She yanked herself upright, marched to the Mini, and jammed the unlock button on the keychain. Nothing happened. She took careful aim and hit the button once, twice, groaned as she hit it a third time and … nothing.

“Battery dead?” Kale inquired in an oh-so-polite voice. Bees would come to him for honey, but she was smarter than that. He was not getting in this car. He’d have to pry the keys from her cold, dead hands. The hairs on the back of her neck rose a little. Sure, he was a star and everyone and their mother knew who he was but nothing was really stopping him from stuffing her in the trunk and stealing the car.

Gracie inserted the car key between her fingers and turned around. She knew she watched too much Forensic Files but a girl couldn’t be too careful.

“What do you want?” she asked slowly.

His dark green eyes—so not the eyes of a serial killer—flicked down to the keys in her hands. He took a slow step back, then another quicker one. His guitar case thumped against his heels and his feet scissored back and forth. She couldn’t help the quick grin—which he returned. Damn he could melt the ice with that smile.

“I need a ride.”

She frowned at him. “Don’t you have like, people, or something that can help you out? Where’s your manager? Your band?”

Something flickered across his face and his eyes turned serious. “Where I’m going I need to go alone. So. Please.”

“Ah, so he can beg,” she snarked then scrunched her eyes together in dismay. It wasn’t right to take out her really bad day—scratch that, month, year, life on a stranger. Especially at Christmas.

“It’s O.K.,” he said ruefully. “I deserved that.”

“Does it ever work?”

“What?”

She waggled the keys at him. “You know, the celebrity thing. I mean, do you play that card a lot?”

His lips quirked at the corners. “I’m not above it,” he admitted and she gave him props for honesty. “Works about fifty-fifty.”

Her own smile inched up a little. He really was charming. “So never.”

“I’d say I have more luck than your mind over matter deal but nah, I don’t like using it.”

She considered him then, really let herself look him over. Tall, yes, and typical in tight jeans, gray Nautica sweater, black wool coat, and boots. But not typical in the smile that seemed real, warm. And dear God, help, just for her.

A blast of cold air whipped through the lot and up the back of her coat like a warning. She didn’t need that smile.

“Well,” Gracie said brightly. “Good bye.”

Kale dodged around her and blocked the car door. “You have to go through Montana to get to Seattle.”

“I know that,” she lied.

Truthfully she had no clear idea of how to get to Seattle. A mite embarrassing to admit but she’d slept through most of the ride down here three years ago with her best friend Shelly. She planned to stop at the nearest CVS and pick up some supplies. Once there, she’d spend a few minutes acquainting herself with the map and figuring out how much money she had. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to sleep in the car at a rest stop. Suddenly Kale Sims didn’t seem so bad. He’d probably be handy if there were trouble over a port-a-potty or something.

“Look, I know I’m a stranger and you’d be taking a huge risk letting me ride along with you.” He whipped off his hat and ran an impatient hand through his hair. “You can trust me. I need help.”

Funnily enough, she did trust him. Trusting him would probably wind her up on a Lifetime movie but there was something about him that prompted her to give him a little more time to make his case.

“What’s in Montana?” she asked, suddenly curious and a little less cold when he looked at her like that. He could be trying to get home to his family, too. Country stars had families, didn’t they? Families that gathered around a big fire and sang carols and opened presents and loved each other just like hers did. And if she could help him get there, karma was sure to owe her one, right?

“A chick.”

The cold wind was back.

Gracie scowled. “A chick? Not a family?”

He set his guitar case on the ground and leaned back against the car, crossed one boot over the other.

“Just a girl.”

Then it hit her. Of course, Jessica Woodson. That’s what all the gossip magazines were reporting. Kale’s old duet partner, Jessica, claimed he’d fathered a little boy and was demanding Kale step up and take responsibility.

Gracie forced a bright smile to cover what could be an awkward moment. She wouldn’t want someone prying into her life like that so she added a teasing note.

“No mom or dad, brother? Dog? Little sister? Waiting for you at home or something?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at her and she knew she’d done the right thing by sidestepping that mess. “Were you picturing that Folgers commercial when the older brother sneaks in on Christmas morning?”

Oh God, how did he know that? She loved that commercial, teared up every time it came on.

“No. Do you really think I am going to drive your ass all the way to Montana so you see a chick. At Christmas?”

“Oh. You don’t like that word? O.K., fine. I need to go see my old partner. Tell me you know what this is about so I don’t have to explain it.”

She looked away because she didn’t like the pained look on his face. “Yeah.”

“I have money.”

Gracie nudged her suitcase so that it knocked on his boots. “Move.”

“I’ll pay for the gas.”

It’d be good if he’d pay for food and hotel too but she wasn’t about to suggest it.

“Food too.”

She frowned at him and squirmed a little inside her really thin boots.

“Hotel?”

“That’s a lot,” she said slowly because she was really considering what he offered and really thinking her mother would kill her if she found out. But she had to get home. She had to. She just wasn’t sure she could do it on her own.

As if seeking her weakness, he cocked his head to the side, sent her a wily grin. “I’m a good driver. And I won’t talk if you don’t want me to.”

That she didn’t believe. But she also didn’t believe she’d end up in a ditch somewhere come Christmas morning. Still, the look he was giving her, like he knew her every thought, sent shards of irritation through her so she frowned harder.

“Fine. Get in.”

He whooped—actually whooped—and skidded around the car to the trunk. She followed at a slower pace, looked at the dead key remote in her hand and then tossed it at him. She had too much to think about now to waste time on figuring out how to get all their stuff in the tiny car. Like how she was going to explain to her family that she was driving cross country in a rented Christmas Tree green Mini with Country music’s biggest bad boy. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. Shelly surely would have a fit of jealousy over it. And that gave Gracie a little bit of satisfaction. It would be nice, just once, to be the one someone was jealous of. She left Kale with her luggage and skated around to the passenger side.

He opened the driver’s door and slung his guitar into the backseat, then hit the button to slide the seat all the way back. And then proceeded to jam his tall frame inside. Gracie bit back a giggle when his knees hit the bottom of the steering wheel. He swore under his breath, threw the hat in the backseat beside his guitar and cranked the car. They both let out a sighs of relief when it actually started.

“Do you think it’ll make it over the Rockies?” she asked.

Kale tapped his long fingers on the steering wheel. “We’re about to find out. Hold on to your hat, darlin’.”

A Quick Note on the Day Before We Eat Turkey

I'm about to run off and enjoy my Turkey (which is still frozen, btw, and it doesn't look good for thawing ...) but I wanted to share this link from Jessica at Bookends, LLC. As she so gracefully points out we give thanks for many things - here's her thanks for books. I second that!

Also, look for something special on December 1. Friday is the official start of the Christmas Season and I'm kicking it off in style with an ongoing series.

And if you are on Facebook, swing over to Janice Curran's page where she is hosting a month-long holiday romance reading celebration during December.

And Adding Another ...

I was in Barnes and Noble today during lunch because all my friends ditched me. (You know who you are) and I stumbled across this.

I met Jan two years ago at a conference and I really enjoy her books although she dropped of my author radar for awhile there. But she's back and with a brand new Christmas novel. And yay! This is just the first of three with the second scheduled for next December. A three-year Christmas trilogy.

Here's the back blurb:

Reid Barclay doesn’t have time for Christmas, not with trouble brewing at the Crown Seven Ranch. He’s got prize thoroughbreds to protect, and an long-ago wrong that he wants to make right. But the beautiful cook who’s taken over the ranch kitchen is a welcome distraction, even if Ellie Jo Cade burns everything from gingerbread to roast beef. Her sweet face and womanly figure are pure temptation…

Cornhusk angels…bright berry garlands…spun-sugar snow—everything about Christmas holds fond memories for Ellie Jo. She’s doing her best to make peace with an ornery wood-burning stove and make the old ranch house truly festive. All she wants is to believe in Reid…and the only-at-Christmas magic that makes hearts glow…

So this evening I'm curling up with my new read (after the baby is in bed, and the dishes are done, and I do a few pre-Thanksgiving chores, and I check my email, and watch How I Met Your Mother and Big Bang Theory and ... oh dang, there goes my reading time!)

Glory, Glory!

Harlequin backed off ... a little. Now if only they'd announce that they are NOT going to suggest in rejection letters that aspiring authors head over to Horizons ...

http://pubrants.blogspot.com/2009/11/harlequin-news-flash.html

I Didn't Mean To Be Bad ...

So today I had a handful of links to post about things I've been following this week. Then I realized most of them were bad. So I narrowed it down to 2 bad things. And because I had to read them, I have to pass them on. 

It's been beaten to death and I agree with the majority - this is a bad, bad thing. Harlequin should take a hard look at what the romance writing community thinks of their newest and shiniest endeavor and hopefully find a way to gracefully step back. The best rundown of author opinions (with almost 500 comments at last count) is over at Smart Bitches. 

Second ... this goes back to the debate about how much authors should reveal about themselves. I know, I am going to say this next bit fully aware that as an aspiring author myself, I am totally breaking this rule but ... I don't care to read too much about my favorite authors. I prefer to "see" my favorites as happy go-lucky beings writing away furiously in a Cape Cod house like Diane Keaton in Somethings Gotta Give. I don't want to be told that my favorite childhood author was a grassroots socialist, bad mother, and obsessed with money. Since I had to read it ... Laura Ingalls Wilder dear readers. 

So, since those were two BAD links, to make up for it go here and here. 

The Dreaded To Be Read(ed) Pile

To Be Read piles shouldn't be a dreadful thing. Quite the opposite actually, they should be a happy little pile sitting next to your bed just waiting for you to pick one up. Unfortunately my TBR pile is growing to monstrous proportions and I've added three more recently. I can't wait to get to them and yet they sit glumly at the bottom, knowing it will be MONTHS before I even crack the spine. Poor dears. 

A Season to be Sinful, however, is one I am reading, despite it's bottom of the pile status - a sweet fellow blogger sent it my way and I am so glad she did because it has me hooked. Sure, the heroine does faint, as all heroines do in Jo Goodman's books but if you come to expect such a thing, it hardly even bothers. Hardly. 

In other reading news, I'm afraid I've missed the Christmas rush. Each year I eagerly anticipate the release of numerous Christmas Romances but it seems this year the selection is wearing a little thin - or maybe its just me. So if you have any good recommendations - new or otherwise, I adore Christmas Westerns. Although I myself (insert shameless plug) wrote a regency Christmas romance, I find the Westerns to be my favorites. Its been awhile since I found a straight up holiday contemporary that I really enjoyed so send suggestions on those my way too! 

Following you around the blogsphere ...

Because I have literally oodles of time (not really) to read blogs all day (oh how I love blogs), I recently added a new one to my Google Reader (that is misbehaving) ...

Combreviations!

A Friday contributor at Pimp My Novel, Laura started her own blog this week and has oodles (because I love that word) of posts about publishing a day.

Go forth and procrastinate!

I'm Looking Forward To ...

From the author's website:

Lauren Sutherland's sister made a big mistake when she married the powerful and much older Senator Creighton. The senator's son Drew agrees. But the newlyweds have disappeared and even the FBI can't find them. Venturing into the elite Washington social scene, Lauren and Drew discover an elaborate web of explicit photos and blackmail, and a fiery attraction they can barely control...

I sort of stumbled across Starr Ambrose and although I haven't read her previous book, Lie to Me, this one sounds really fun. You can read an excerpt here.

It comes up November 24th, just in time to get me through the Thanksgiving Holidays.