I know it sounds like I'm rushing the season, but I have two Christmas novellas out this year and I'm trying to keep things organized as I determine a marketing strategy for each one. You'd think it would be simple, since one's a Regency and the other is a contemporary. So, how come I filled out promotional information for one book and inserted the cover from the other? Fortunately, I hadn't hit the 'send' button yet, so I could correct the error.
But it made me realize I need to check things over carefully this season. My Regency followers would not be interested in the goings-on in present day Maine. And the inner-workings of a greeting card shop would hold no appeal to members of the
ton. So I have to be very careful when I'm filling out information to promote my books that I remain faithful to one or the other all the way to the end.
The up side of this is I can offer readers a Christmas novella, despite their preferences. If you can't wait until Christmas, here's a little taste of each.
A Regency Yuletide
Northern England, December 1822
Being of good English stock, Sophie
Davenport loved the rain. At least most of the time, since it made the rolling
hills of Carlisle a pretty, bucolic green in the summer. Today however, she
took her knitting to the window seat in the library and gazed into the
darkening countryside while her fingers flew, making stitches from the fine
wool. It had been raining for days now, which, in and of itself, was not an
uncommon event during the month of December. But this afternoon the gloom settled
over her as if it were a heavy blanket. She had lost so much time by trotting
to London for her first season on the marriage mart at the insistence of her
Uncle Harry, that she was unable to tend to her gardens and her charitable
pursuits this year. He had hoped to foist Sophie off to a gentleman of means,
so he could be rid of both Sophie and her mother.
The season had been an abysmal
failure, at least in Mother’s eyes. And in the eyes of Uncle Harry, since
Sophie had returned home empty-handed. Not one man had danced with her unless
you counted pimply-faced Freddie, her cousin, who had done so out of family
duty rather than real interest. Sophie, however, breathed a sigh of relief at
returning home without sparking the interest of a gentleman, since the men of
the Ton were, for the most part, more interested in their own appearances than
in hers. If she had to cast her fortunes in with someone, it would most
certainly not be with a man who had a larger wardrobe than she.
Her fingers worked furiously, needles
clicking together as she made quick work of the row of stitches. She held up
her needle and stared at her progress, turning the blue yarn into a usable
covering. If she could maintain her current output, she’d have one more blanket
done before Christmas for the Female Visiting Society to hand out to some poor
indigent. She nodded in satisfaction, running her fingers over her uniform
stitches as the rain pelted the window.
“Sophia Davenport, I do declare
your eyesight will fail if you keep attempting to knit when it’s so dark
outside.” Her mother, Evelyn, bustled into the room.
Sophie set her knitting aside. Any
other response would be futile. It was teatime after all, and Mother was a
stickler for following the rules. “Yes, Mother.”
Their one maid, Annie, followed
with the tea service. “Tis raining hard this afternoon, ma’am.”
“Yes, that it is, Annie.” Sophie
rose from her seat at the window and poured the tea. Evelyn added a lump of
sugar to hers, and then a spot of milk. “We certainly can do without another
flood like the one we had last February. Thank goodness we’re situated on a
hill and our little cottage has a sturdy roof.” She glanced at Sophie. “Your
father planned for everything.”
“Yes, he did. Except for his
passing.” Sophie sighed as she took a seat opposite her mother.
Love's In The Cards
She
had been so tongue-tied around him she couldn’t find the right words to say. And now
she had two devastating long-term relationships under her belt. Should she try
for one more? Perhaps the third time would be the charm. Her sister’s voice
pounded in her ear. Suck it up, Buttercup. She took a deep breath.
“Just how do you intend to make Valentine’s Day fun again?”
He locked his gaze on hers. “By spending
time with you. By righting old wrongs. By apologizing to your mother for making
the soles of your shoes purple.”
Penny’s breath caught in her throat.
Delbert, her childhood sweetheart, had come roaring back into her life.
Whatever should she do? Their half-eaten lobster burgers and fries sat on the
table, giving her something to play with while her mind buzzed She maneuvered a
French fry into the lake of ketchup on her plate. Even though she’d lived in
Lobster Cove most of her life, she’d never tired of the taste the town was
famous for. She swallowed a bite of the succulent white meat on a bun. “I’d
really enjoy spending time with you, too, Del. How convenient that you’ll be in
the same block as my folks, since Abbey and I do hang out there a lot. But
right now is our busiest season of the year. And, as much as you hate
Valentine’s, I hate Christmas.”
Del raised an eyebrow. “Why? Because
there’s so much work involved at the card shop? Or because of your bad
experiences?”
Penny attempted to corral her wayward
musings, but sparks were being set off in her head every time she glanced at
Del and goose bumps erupted on her skin. For the first time in almost a year,
she experienced very female feelings toward a man. She didn’t need another
Christmas casualty.
Merry Christmas, one and all!
