Winter Blogfest: Katie Groom

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win an ebook copy of Gibbous Moon by Katie Groom. 

Adjusting to Being Alone During the Holidays by Katie Groom

It can be very tough to be alone during the holiday season. When every ad is centered on family (not to mention that every book and movie set during these times seems to be focused on finding love or reconnecting with family or both).

Being that I am single and live nearly 1000 miles from my family, I was very worried about how I would handle my first holiday season alone. I had always been close with my family and we had plenty of traditions. And even though I was planning a trip between Thanksgiving and Christmas, it was still going to leave those major days vacant of plans and full of longing for my family.

Leading up to the first major US holiday of the season, I had found myself wondering if I would be longing for the embarrassing Thanksgiving tradition of my mother going around the table and forcing each of us to declare at least one thing that we are thankful for that year. The aim was always for one of us to make her cry with what we said it was never difficult; our mom has always been emotional, so it would have just taken one of us saying that we were thankful for our family.

What I decided to do for that first Thanksgiving alone was start my own tradition. I decided that I wasnt going to worry about the big meal, but rather, I was going to do something outside of the home. There was a Van Gogh immersive exhibit that was open. Seeing as I was already a fan of Van Goghs work, I decided to partake in that, and it was a wonderful experience! I was actually grateful to have the day off the job I had at the time was actually the first for me that allowed me to have holidays free. It was the first time that I was actually doing something for me.

From that experience, I decided that, whenever possible, I would take these important days days that it would be difficult to be alone and do something that brought me joy. Sometimes its been activities such as seeing a movie or cooking my favorite meal or reading a holiday themed book. Other times its been serving others a hot meal or spending the entire holiday season buying and wrapping gifts for children that would otherwise not receive them. Other times it was something else entirely.

On one hand, Ive started to treat these days just like they were any other days of the year, but, in another way, Ive chosen to create my own traditions. And, if youre someone that is dreading being alone on the holidays, I recommend that you, too, create some sort of new tradition for yourself, if you can.

Werewolf and professor of literature Hugh spent nearly 200 years to find his soulmate, Zoie, but others betrayed him, working with rivals to take her away in only an instant. Revenge was swift and unsatisfying. More people need to pay for what was stolen from Hugh.

Zoie’s death had been orchestrated by powerful beings in the supernatural world. Exacting revenge will require precision and planning.

Biding his time before acting, Hugh reverts to the patterns that finding true love had disrupted. Walking through life in a fog, he does his best to appear as if he is moving forward, though nothing feels the same.

As Hugh tries to start the next chapter in his life with Rosalie, he is haunted by the memory of Zoie. The literature professor cringes every time he’s reminded that Rosalie doesn’t like to read, but he tells himself that opposites should attract. That Rosalie can patch the hole left in his heart when Zoie died. His revenge will take time, and wallowing in grief won’t help.

Just as Hugh is still focused on revenge, his enemies are still plotting to harm Hugh further. It’s dangerous to oppose a bereaved werewolf, but even werewolves can be hurt.

Katie Groom grew up in rural Pennsylvania, where she received her bachelor’s degree in Business Management from PITT and her master’s in Employment and Labor Relations from Indiana University of Pennsylvania. In 2016, she decided to move to Alabama in order to avoid as much snow as possible (and to advance her career in Human Resources).

When she isn’t working, Katie enjoys reading, writing, jokingly critiquing movies and TV, and campaigning that the plural of moose should be meese. She also loves to take in live music (especially Hanson) and traveling, with the goal of reaching each of the continents. Katie’s favorite pastime, however, is spending time with her beloved Shih tzu, Delta.

 

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Winter Blogfest: Rachael Heinan and Kimberly Metcalf

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a free eBook of our debut novel Yours, Always.

 

A Chill Is in the Air by Rachael Heinan and Kimberly Metcalf

 

I love the theme of hot and sultry summer nights and in romance novels there are so many steamy places to go, especially when the least amount of clothes can be worn and you’re still decent. Or not decent. Let’s say semi-decent.

However, I am a huge fan of Regency Romances.

The longing, the wanting, being covered from head to toe. The flash of an ankle can causeheart palpitations. The winter scene and winter settings feel to me a lot like a Regency Romance. You’re bundled up, nary an inch of skin is showing, so when a glove is removed or a sweater comes off the sweet longing, reminiscent of my beloved Regency’s, comes to mind. There’s so much that can be done when you have cold weather and afireside when all you want to do is cozy up under a blanket and get warm in any way possible, and possibly fall in love.

My favorite Regency winter themed book is Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypass, a must read.

Kim and I are currently writing book number two in our Amber Falls series. It’s a contemporary romance and the setting is winter. Our book is after Christmas, but boy do I love a good Christmas romance novel. There’s something about wanting to be with the ones you love this time of year more than any time of year that makes it the perfect time and place to fall in love.

There’s a certain joy that comes with Christmas. The feeling of goodwill, the sense of togetherness and wanting to share your joyful spirit with others. Wanting to share pretty much everything: your thoughts, your feelingsyour gift list. Wanting to be nice but secretly being just a little bit naughty.

The first book in the Amber Falls series, Yours, Always, takes place just as the weather is starting to turn cold. There might be a few warmer fall days, but the chill is in the air. And when the chill is in the air the need to heat things up intensifies, and that can only mean good things in a romance novel.

 

An action movie star needs a small-town love to remind him how to live life, off script.

Greyson Atwood, Hollywood movie star, and his best friend Prudence Hardwick have been dancing around their feelings for each other since high school.

Fresh off a Spirit Award win for Best Actor, and despite the awards buzz in the air, Greyson finds himself burned-out on the Hollywood vibe. He knows his hometown of Amber Falls, Massachusetts is the best place to rest and recover, and it doesn’t help that his pent-up feelings for Prudence have simmered to the surface one too many times to ignore anymore.

Greyson decides he has no choice but to go to Prudence. As the town prepares for the annual Fall Festival, Greyson and Prudence finally have the time to navigate their deep bond of friendship that goes back to their childhood and find out if that bond is enough to build the rest of their lives on, together.

 

Rachael Heinan‘s love of books started at a young age. Her love of romance novels started in university when she couldn’t stand to read another textbook and picked up her first pure romance.

Rachael co-authors with Kimberly Metcalf. They met in the corporate world and their friendship flowed seamlessly into the real world.

Rachael lives in Minnesota, USA with her husband, daughter and 4 cats.

Kimberly Metcalf

Kimberly is an avid reader who managed to convince her best friend they could put their stories on paper. She is so excited to share them with you.

Based in North Dakota, USA, when not writing she can be found spending time with her family, cooking, or curled up in her favorite armchair with a book.

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Winter Blogfest: Kate Hill

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest.

Leave a comment for a chance to win a free download of Sofia’s Silver Bullet (Silver Hearts 2).

Watching Holiday Horror by Kate Hill

Delicious meals, decorations, music, family gatherings. Most people have holiday traditions they look forward to. For me, December is the time to indulge in Christmas horror movies. I am a huge fan of horror, and I anticipate watching winter-themed holiday movies every year. When I think of December, I imagine dark nights of snuggling by the warmth of the wood stove while strange, scary, and sometimes funny holiday movies flash across my TV screen.

I definitely have favorites that have become my staple holiday movies, but every year I also look forward to watching a few new ones.

For me, it wouldn’t be the holidays without seeing A Christmas Horror Story, Stalled, and Christmas with Cookie. A more recent favorite I’ve added to my holiday watch list is Slay Belles. I also don’t let the holiday season go by without watching the Tales from the Crypt episode And All Through the House.

As you can see, I especially enjoy indie movies and horror comedy.

If you’re also a fan of holiday horror, or if you’d like to try some holiday horror movies, I’d recommend the following ones. They’ve brought me many scares or laughs, and sometimes both.

A Cadaver Christmas – A janitor and a group of oddballs battle zombies (cadavers!) on Christmas Eve.

A Christmas Horror Story – This horror anthology includes individual scary stories that focus on citizens of the same town. Ultimately, their stories relate.

Sint (AKA Saint) – This unsettling holiday horror movie focuses on a terrifying Christmas legend.

Stalled – In this horror comedy, a janitor trapped in a woman’s rest room and an office worker struggle to survive a zombie attack during a Christmas party.

Are you also a fan of holiday horror? If so, I’d love to hear about some of your favorites so I can add them to my watch list.

 

Stalker – I’m a rogue wolf. No club. No gang. No pack. I’m free, and that’s how I like it. Roaming the streets in a Santa suit to antagonize demons into a fight, I meet her—the Wild witch who changes my life. I want Sam the moment I see her, but can a lone wolf fall in love at first sight?

Sam – I’m a Wild. That means I have warrior witch blood in my veins. I messed up, though, and someone I care about got hurt. To fix the situation, I’m in what’s left of Boston looking for demons so I can test a new spell. I’m not expecting a gorgeous silver wolf to protect me, and I’m not trying to fall in love, but one look at Stalker, and I know we were born for each other.

Note: Sam’s Silver Wolf is a very short age gap paranormal insta-love story with a little plot, a lot of heat, and a HEA.

 

Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic fantasies. When she’s not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading, working out, watching horror movies, and researching vampires and Viking history. She runs the Compelling Beasts Blog that is dedicated to antagonists, antiheroes, and paranormal creatures. Kate also writes as Saloni Quinby.

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Winter Blogfest: Rachel Corsini

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win an ebook prize. 

 

A Wonderful Chaos by Rachel Corsini

Boisterous laughter. Swirls of cigar smoke rising to the ceiling. Endless platters of food. Seven fishes. Linguini with white clam sauce. Insalate di mare. Fried calamari. An endless conveyor belt filled our bellies and hearts with joy. The table fit to bursting with family. Loud. Wonderful. Drinking wine.  

My grandfather at the head of the table. My grandma in the kitchen laughing with my mom and my aunts. Helping to fill serving platters. There was always so much food. My grandma fed us all, filling us fit to bursting with her love.

At midnight, a creak on the stairs. Black boots. Fluffy white cuffs. Red velvet pants. Santa at Grandma’s house? I was on his knee in an instant. Squinting eyes looking into his brown ones. Hmm, he seemed familiar. A smile I’d seen many times. There were presents in his giant sack. He pulled one out and placed it in my hands. It was something I wished for. That I’d placed on my list.

I kissed Santa’s cheek and he hugged me before lifting me off his knee. I went to go see what my present was.

“Hmm, I wonder where that Uncle Joe is?” Santa said. My family burst into laughter. It was my cousin’s turn. After each gift, “hmm, I wonder where that Uncle Joe is?

Espresso poured. Cannolis on the table. Stufoli. Cheesecake. An assortment of Italian Christmas cookies: fig, lemon, Pignoli nut. Summoned by Sambuca, Uncle Joe reappeared, and Santa was gone. More laughter while sipping from gold filigree cups.

Us, the kids, curled up on the plastic covered sofa, clutching our precious presents, eyes drifting shut to the sounds of our family talking well into the hours of the morning.

Christmas Eve. A wonderful chaos. A moment as precious as a heartbeat.

When a career-ending injury and a messy breakup send prima ballerina Daniela Verdi back to Queens, New York, she fills her days with countless distractions: meaningless sex, pinot grigio, and video games.

It takes a chance meeting with her brother’s best friend, Vincent LaBate, for her to remember who she was before the stage lights and distractions of the Upper West Side. She’s convinced that Vincent could never love a girl like her: broken, insecure, and stumbling her way through life. What Daniela didn’t count on is that Vincent is as scarred as she is after divorcing his cheating wife and going through an equally messy child custody fight. Soon enough, old vulnerabilities rear their ugly heads, opening a crack in Daniela’s perfectly imperfect romance.

As Daniela and Vincent’s relationship develops, will Daniela learn to accept that a dream life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?

After declaring herself a pretty pink princess during her first ballet class, Rachel dreamt of sugarplums and began pirouetting her way through life. While studying to become a ballerina, she compulsively read books under her covers by flashlight and scribbled in spiral-bound notebooks. The urge to tell stories culminated in her graduation from Columbia College Chicago with a B.F.A. in fiction writing.

Never one to keep her feet on the ground, she traveled the world from Prague to Cape Town. Once settled back in Queens, she dabbled in journalism before working as an Editorial Assistant for a medical publisher. Seeking a more fulfilling career, she earned her MAT from Queens College and currently works as an English teacher in an alternative program in NYC.

Rachel spends her time sipping coffee, trying to cook, and practicing her pirouettes. She currently resides in Freeport, Long Island.

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Winter Blogfest: Hector Duarte, Jr.

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest.

Leave a comment for a chance to win a free e-copy of Icarus Over Collins.

Noche Buena by Hector Duarte, Jr.

“¡Ño, que hambre!” Is something heard a lot during Noche Buena. In a Caribbean/Latin American household, the night before Christmas holds more weight than the day itself.

Noche Buena starts early. By one, two in the afternoon, family’s already gathered at the host-house. Why? Because the alpha males (many you won’t see til next year) who know best have gathered to figure out the best way to asar el lechon. No caja china here. Don’t insult the masculinity of the yard by bringing it up. Este puerco gets wrapped in banana leaves and splayed over a bed of hot coals burning a hole in the dirt.

But, be patient. This will take hours. Of listening to stories (many on repeat) of the old island; smelling the yard fill with scents of crisping skin and sizzling mojo (sneak a bite every once in a while, but don’t get caught). More listening; if it’s a Republican president in charge, most everyone’s extolling his virtues. A democrat, they’ll say the country’s going the way of Fidel and, “Cuando, Dios mio,” will a Republican take the reins again? This banter will eventually give way to the muttering of, “¡Ño, que hambre!”

Shove as many Islas Canarias croquetas down your throat; man, are they tasty. None of them quell the itch produced by el humo hotboxing la casa entera. Black beans, yuca con ajo, flan, y arroz con leche. And, of course, el cabrón lechón. Burning a hole in your stomach.  

If you’re lucky, it’s unwrapped from its steaming cocoon by nine, by which time you’re likely out of your mind from staring at domino tiles plunked onto a custom-made wooden gaming table emblazoned with some type of Cuban nostalgia.

¡Ño, que hambre!

Pero, esperate. Got to let los mayores in front of you. What kind of joven would you be if you ate before Abuela Miña? This family’s so big and generational, it adds another fifteen minutes between you and jamando. Ni te atrevas try and sneak a peek off Mami or Papi’s plate!

Finally, you eat, filling your empty stomach with the staples that have teased harder than the episode endings of one of Mami’s telenovelas.

Ño, do they fulfill.

You eat so hard and fast, by the end you’re comatose and ready for bed.

Perfect time to sneak in a nap and wake up in time to arrive home and unwrap gifts.

The older you get, the less it matters what’s under the tree. Until the day it stops mattering all together because you know all too well all those smells, sounds, tastes can’t be wrapped. There isn’t enough gift paper in all the world to cover it. Best you can do, is try to make that noche buena for someone else. If they’re lucky, they’ll get the slightest sliver of such a memory.

Just a sliver, though. Not the whole pie. Some things you got to hoard for yourself.

 

After her friend Sandy Mangual tragically falls to his death, Bailey Cohen discovers images of his grisly corpse have been uploaded and shared through social media, by someone very close to her.

Bailey enlists the help of quiet, unnoticed, underappreciated Bernardo Castillo, who works the luxury Miami Beach high rise in which she stays.

Bernardo and Bailey will have to dredge up the shady past they’ve long worked to tamp down in order to set off on the path toward vengeance. A journey that will reshape and morph each person engulfed along its way.

Icarus Over Collins is a short, punchy revenge story as cracked and slivered as hot Miami pavement.

 

Hector Duarte, Jr. is a writer/educator out of Miami, Fl, where he lives with his wife, son, and cat. His fiction has been published widely online and in print. His first short story collection, Desperate Times Call, published in September of 2018 by Shotgun Honey Books. His debut novella, Icarus Over Collins, was published by Cinnabar Moth in March 2023.

 

Buy the book at Cinnabar Moth.

Winter Blogfest: Barbara Robinson

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $25 Amazon E-gift card as a prize to one of the readers who visits the LASR Winterfest blog and comments on my post.

 

A Yule Log on the Eve of the Winter Solstice by Barbara Robinson

As a Christmas tree farmer’s daughter, I am fonder than most of holiday greenery. I still make my own wreaths and garlands, and I still go out to harvest a Christmas tree from our land each year. My husband and I bought a red pick-up back in April, and in a week or two we’ll be coming down off Folly Mountain looking like a 2023 version of those little trucks that decorate throw pillows and wall plaques in Christmas discount stores this time of year. Finding and decorating a Christmas tree is a cherished tradition, and I could write pages about the history, symbolism and beauty of evergreens, but today I thought Id write about the yule log, and the part that this lesser-known tradition plays in my own holiday celebrations.

In its earliest guise, a yule log was a massive thing, dragged into a hall at the darkest time of the year, and meant to burn all through the yuletide celebrations. Pre-dating electricity by more than a millennium, the light from the yule log would have been an important reminder that that sun’s strength would soon increase, and light and life return to the land. Many charmand traditions grew up around the log, like saving a small piece from the previous year to light the new yule log, and some of these have survived with variations into modern times. Now, yule logs might be made from confectionary, or they might be ceramic decorations with electric lights, but some people still use an actual log, decorated with candles and greenery.

We use a birch log, in part because the white birch bark is decorative when paired with greenery and red or white candles, but also because it is deeply symbolic. The rune representing birch is Berkana (Beorc), and it is associated with fertility and new beginnings, holding the promise of the new year ahead. We usually decorate our yule log and leave it on display, then remove the greenery on the eve of the winter solstice so we can light the candles without risk of stray spark igniting the tinder-dry boughs and pinecones. We have been using the same piece of birch for many years now, saving the log and replacing the candles and greenery each yuletide.

After supper, I will light the candles, and watch them burn down until they are spent. In early Anglo-Saxon England, the eve of the winter solstice was known as Modranigt, the night of the Mothers, and it was a time to pay homage to the female ancestral guardian spirits who watch over families and are concerned with fate and destiny. I usually leave a small offering of food for these guardian spirits, in gratitude for their care and protection throughout the year. Though not actively scrying, I think about the year to come as I watch the yule log, and ideas will often come to me as I watch the candle flames dance. Once the candles have burned away, the yule log is safely stowed away for the next year’s celebrations.

For centuries, Gamekeepers have used their magical abilities to create a buffer between the creatures who dwell in the enchanted forest and the sleepy coastal town that sits in its shadow. When Gamekeeper Stan Ross’s magic begins to fail, he must find out what went wrong, then fix it before the two worlds collide. His hit or miss magic has already led to a few close calls so he journeys to the Sacred Isle searching for answers and advice. Finding a cure proves elusive—until Stan encounters a kitchen witch who captivates him body and soul. Lynnette Peters is healing from her own wounds, however, and it isn’t clear whether she’s ready to open herself to the possibility—or the peril—of love.

 

Barbara Robinson is a debut paranormal romance author who writes novels and short stories with an otherworldly flair. She is an unrepentant optimist who believes that lasting love is possible, and her stories feature happily-ever-after endings.

Most of her writing includes an element of magic, rooted in the cultural and spiritual traditions of pre-Christian Europe. She finds inspiration in myths and folktales, poems and ballads, historical sources and academic writing.

She also draws inspiration from nature. Barbara lives in Nova Scotia, Canada, in the shadow of ancient mountains that lie along the Bay of Fundy coast. New Scotland has a magic all its own, with mist covered valleys and wild, windswept shorelines. These rugged vistas shape her story settings, while providing the perfect backdrop for life with her husband, three hounds and a dragon (Pogona Vitticeps).

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Winter Blogfest: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win an Ebook or paperback of The Scarred Santa.

 

Sinner, Saint, and Santa by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

​My uncle, Roy Sontheimer, was both sinner and saint, a mailman who often delivered food or other necessary items to family members or anyone in need. He liked his beer and drank vast quantities of it each evening. Like the rest of the family, he could out curse a sailor on shore leave. He could be loud, even boisterous, but he had a generous heart.

​In 1972, he filled Santa’s shoes as well. After the meat packing plant where my dad had worked since high school, with time out for this Army service closed, our lives changed. After a stint driving a candy and tobacco delivery truck through northeast Kansas, my dad used his experience to become a United States Department of Agriculture meat inspector. Problem was that the jobs were not anywhere close to my hometown of St. Joseph, MO so we moved to the far southwest corner of the state.

​Until then, I grew up in a blue-collar neighborhood with family, including grandparents and cousins within a few blocks. We left behind our vintage brick home and exchanged it for a mobile home in a trailer park.

​The first Christmas away from home loomed. We had a small tree in our new location, but we would return to St. Joe for the holiday. We would stay at Granny’s house, and she didn’t put up a Christmas tree. Old school to the core, Granny decorated but no tree and she was adamant her custom wouldn’t change. We could celebrate the birth of Christ without one.

​Disappointed did not begin to describe my emotional state. My parents warned me not to complain so I didn’t, at least not when anyone could hear me. We arrived late one December night, a few days before Christmas. When we carried our bags upstairs to sleep in the room my father and uncle had shared as boys, a Douglas fir waited. The crisp evergreen scent greeted us, and I danced with delight.

​I thanked Granny for relenting, but she shook her head. “It wasn’t me – your Uncle Roy said those children have to have a tree. He’s the one who brought it here.”

​We joyfully decorated it the next day, but my uncle’s Santa role had not yet ended.

​Granny always gave me one article of clothing plus a color book with a fresh box of crayons. It was enough and I had no complaints.

​On Christmas morning, however, there was more. I received a doll, the expected gifts, and a small paperback Merriam Webster dictionary as well as a folder with notebook paper. At eleven years old, I yearned to become a writer so these were ideal gifts. I rose from the mess of discarded wrapping paper and ribbons to hug my grandmother but again, she shook her head.

​“I asked your uncle to my Christmas shopping and told him what to buy,” she told me. “He brought all that.”

​As an adult, as a much-published author and writer, I still wonder how my insightful uncle knew the right gift for me. I loved the dictionary so much I carried it with me to school every day, used it to learn new words, and language. Although the one he gave me is long gone, I have a facsimile of it resting on my desk. Merriam Webster hasn’t changed their basic design in years.

​In the decades of Christmas gifts since, I’ve received many presents I loved and some I didn’t like but the simple gift of a dictionary for a young girl with dreams of becoming a writer still resonates. It rocks as much now as it ever did.

​That gift symbolizes for me the true spirit of holiday giving. Given from a generous, loving heart, my dictionary became one of my best gifts of all time, thanks to my uncle, sinner, saint, and sometimes Santa Claus.

Once handsome Rafe Sullivan is left scarred, injured, and with PTSD from his Marine Corps service in Afghanistan. Returning to civilian life is far from smooth, and the burn scars on his right side are extensive. Although he lives close to family, he lives a solitary life and changes jobs more often than most people change their socks. A temporary job as Santa at the mall is presented, but Rafe first rebels, then relents. His Santa gig affects his PTSD. Then he meets Sheena Dunmore. When she doesn’t run from his scars or issues, she intrigues him. An unmasking by some rowdy children is a test of his stamina and spirit. His greatest fear is fire. Will Rafe conquer the fear so he can move forward into the new life he desires?

 

From an early age, Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy scribbled stories, inspired by the books she read, the family tales she heard, and even the conversations she overheard at the beauty shop where her grandmother had a weekly standing appointment. She was the little girl who sat at the feet of the elders and listened.

She spent her early career in broadcast radio, interviewing everyone from politicians to major league baseball players and writing ad copy. In those radio years she began to write short stories and articles, some of which found publication. In 1994 she married Roy Murphy and they had three children, all now grown-up. Lee Ann spent years in the newspaper field as both a journalist and editor and was widowed in 2019.

In late 2020, she hung up her editor’s hat to return to writing fiction. A native of St. Joseph, Missouri, she lives and works in the rugged, mysterious, and beautiful Missouri Ozarks.

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Winter Blogfest: Nan Reinhardt

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Comment and be entered to win e-book copy of Christmas in River’s Edge

Repeat the Sounding Joy…

I love to sing. I can’t sing. I mean I have a truly terrible voice, but I love to sing. Especially at Christmas. So Pandora’s Christmas Classics starts playing at our house before Thanksgiving and NPR gets switched to the Christmas station on the car radio as soon as B105.7 becomes all Christmas music all the time. I’ve played James Taylor’s holiday CD so many times I’m surprised it isn’t worn through and at least four times a week, I hunt for the Eagles version of “Please Come Home for Christmas” on YouTube and play it while I’m working.

Hello, I’m Nan and I am a Christmas music junkie.

It’s not just the holiday tunes that we all know and love—you know, the ones that send warm little snuggly hugs throughout your whole being? “Winter Wonderland.” “The Christmas Song” (Nat King Cole’s version, of course). “Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” “Jingle Bells.” Even the more up-to-date ones like “All I Want for Christmas” and Leonard Cohen’s haunting “Hallelujah,” make me happy.

But it’s the Advent singing that takes me into the holidays with the gladdest heart. All the lovely carols we sing as a part of Sunday worship in December and the special music. “Mary, Did You Know?” “Who Comes This Night?” “Go Tell It on the Mountain.” And of course, “Oh, Holy Night.” My Aunt Ruth Audrey used to sing that beautiful carol every Christmas Eve while my cousin Susie accompanied her on the piano. Aunt Ruth had a gorgeous contralto that sent shivers down your spine when she hit that first “Oh night divine…” As a kid, that’s when I knew it was truly, truly Christmas.

I miss her. I miss those family Christmas Eves and the singing around the piano and lighting the advent candles and Mom reading to us from the second chapter of the gospel of Luke and my grandfather’s turkey dinner on Christmas day. I do what I can to make our Christmases as special as they felt when I was a kid, but even today, it’s the music—the carols, the songs about snow and pie and winter wonderlands and silver bells that truly bring the spirit of the holiday to life for me.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you and yours and if you need a little holiday boost, turn on some Christmas music and sing along. Your heart will thank you.

“You can go home again…

After a painful divorce from her high school sweetheart, triplet Jenny Weaver returns to River’s Edge with her young son. While happy to be reunited with her sisters and working at the family’s marina, she has no intention of jumping into the dating pool, especially going into the holidays. Then Gabe Dawson, once a shy nerd who tutored her in history classes, arrives home transformed into a handsome hunk who makes her pulse race.

Archeologist and history professor Gabe Dawson thought he’d long ago outgrown his teen crush on Jenny. Back in town for a few months to help his mom post surgery, he can’t resist reaching out to Jenny. She’s as beautiful, warm, and funny as he remembered and soon Gabe is reconsidering his future.

Gabe is determined to seize this second chance, but can he convince a very wary Jenny that a globe-trotter is ready to come home for good this Christmas?”

Nan Reinhardt is a USA Today bestselling author of sweet, small-town romantic fiction for Tule Publishing. Her day job is working as a freelance copyeditor and proofreader, however, writing is Nan’s first and most enduring passion. She can’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t writing—she wrote her first romance novel at the age of ten and is still writing, but now from the viewpoint of a wiser, slightly rumpled, woman in her prime. Nan lives in the Midwest with her husband of 50 years, where they split their time between a house in the city and a cottage on a lake. Talk to Nan at: nan@nanreinhardt.com

https://nanreinhardt.com/
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Winter Blogfest: Diane Billas

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win one digital copy of my young adult sapphic contemporary romance book Does Love Always Win?

 

The Holidays: A Musical Time by Diane Billas

Growing up, when everyone was prepping for the holidays by baking, shopping, and decorating, I’d be doubling down on practicing my French horn for all the holidays gigs. If you don’t know, the winter holidays are a brass lover’s dream. There are so many opportunities to play your instrument and have ALL of the gigs you ever dreamed of. I’d perform solo horn pieces during Christmas Eve services and also play in groups that would perform Christmas carols in various locations including in the streets.

A friend came over to my house during Christmas and saw the number of French horns that donned my Christmas tree and remarked, “I don’t think I realized how much French horns signified Christmas until that moment.” Granted, everyone and their brother knows I play the horn so I’d get a new horn ornament almost every year and I married a French horn player, so our number of horn ornaments probably doubled, but the holidays really is a time for music, even more specifically my instrument.

My favorite part of performing during the holidays is playing Christmas Carols at nursing and/or assisted living homes. I can always tell how much hearing music really brightened up their day and isn’t that what the holidays are really about?

I now have an 11-month-old son and I’m looking forward to having him experience the holidays with old family traditions and creating new traditions together. And of course, I want to show him how it feels to give the gift of music to others during the holidays. I can’t wait for him to have, like I did, a musical holiday experience.

 

Does Love Always Win is a sapphic coming of age young adult novel that explores coming out and understanding one’s sexual orientation.

Sam “Shorty” Daniels has a plan for her senior year, but her romantic life being a hot mess was not part of the agenda. Shorty quickly discovers she’s not attracted to her newest boyfriend and fellow marching band member Zack, despite her many hours of daydreaming of what it would be like to date him. Their previous flirting had been so intense that those feelings have to come back again, right?

When Shorty’s asked to show the snarky new girl around high school, Shorty’s instantly intrigued by Kristy’s wit, and they bond over their love of writing. They quickly become inseparable, and Shorty has a breakthrough moment realizing why none of her other relationships worked out.

Just as Shorty is about to break up with Zack, her bitter ex-boyfriend Bryan threatens to out her to the entire school and Shorty’s conservative parents. Will Shorty be able to overcome Bryan’s ridiculous blackmail scheme and get her dream girl?

 

Diane Billas is the author of the young adult sapphic contemporary romance novel DOES LOVE ALWAYS WIN? and the young adult superhero LGBTQ+ novel SUPERFICIAL releasing September 2024 from Creative James Media.

Diane Billas lives in Philadelphia with her husband and son. When she’s not writing she can be found reading multiple books at once, performing the French horn and piano, or dreaming of the next country she’s going to visit. Diane can be found at dianebillas.com, on Twitter, TikTok, and Facebook @dianebillas, and on Instagram @dianebillaswrites.

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Winter Blogfest: Helen C. Johannes

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest.

Leave a comment for a chance to win a Kindle copy of “Bloodstone”.  (US only.)

 

Christmas Quiche by Helen C. Johannes

Want to use up some of that leftover holiday ham and make a dish that looks as festive as the season? My family’s spinach quiche is a year-round favorite, but the colors, flavors, and warm-the-tummy satisfaction especially suit the season.

Crust: Buy a plain pastry crust or use this recipe to make one from scratch.

1 cup flour

¼ tsp. salt

4 tablespoons shortening (plain or butter flavored)

¼ cup cold water, plus more by teaspoon as needed

Blend the flour and salt in a medium bowl. Cut in the shortening until mixture is crumbly. Add water and blend until mixture can be formed into a ball. Roll out into a circle and press into a 9-inch pie pan, fluting the rim. Set aside.

Filling:

2-3 cups chopped fresh spinach, microwaved 1 ½ minute with 1//2 cup water and drained and set aside

1 small can of mushrooms, drained and chopped

1/3-1/2 cup tomatoes, chopped

1/3 cup chopped ham (or more if desired)

1 8 oz. (2 cups) shredded cheese (I prefer 6-cheese Italian, but any tasty blend will work)

2 tablespoons flour

½ tsp. salt

Dash pepper

3 eggs

1 cup milk

Combine cheese and flour in a medium bowl. In a large mixing bowl, beat the eggs with a whisk. Whisk in milk and seasonings. Stir in tomatoes, mushrooms, ham, and spinach. Using a fork, blend in cheese/flour mixture. Pour everything into pie shell. Bake at 360 degrees F for 1 hour. Let stand a couple of minutes before cutting and serving. Makes 8 generous pieces of green and red and golden deliciousness.

 

What if looking at the face of the man you loved meant death?

Years ago, warrior Durren Drakkonwehr was cursed by a mage. Now feared and reviled as the Shadow Man, he keeps to himself, only going to town to trade rare bloodstones—petrified dragon’s blood—for supplies. Though he hides his face, he can’t hide his heart from the woman who haunts his dreams…
Needing bloodstones for a jewelry commission, Mirianna and her father journey across the dreaded Wehrland where the beast-men roam. When their party is attacked, only the Shadow Man can save them. Strangely drawn to him, Mirianna offers herself in return for her father’s rescue.
Living in the ruined fortress with the Shadow Man, Mirianna slowly realizes that a flesh-and-blood man—not a fiend—hides there in hoods and darkness. But are love and courage enough to lift the curse and restore the man?

 

Helen C. Johannes writes award-winning fantasy romance inspired by the fairy tales she grew up reading and the amazing historical places she’s visited in England, Ireland, Scotland and Germany. She writes tales of adventure and romance in fully realized worlds sprung from pure imagination and a lifelong interest in history, culture, and literature. Warriors on horseback, women who refuse to sit idly at home, and passion that cannot be denied or outrun—that’s what readers will find in her books.

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