We’re less than a week away from what my family affectionately calls “Turkey Day!” If you’re not in the U.S., that’s Thanksgiving and it’s a time we gather around a dinner table with our families to eat … and eat and eat and eat.
This year, I’ve been asked to host and my mom is bringing her specialties: stuffing, homemade yeast rolls, and sweet potatoes with little marshmallows on top. She’s also bringing a turkey breast instead of the whole bird for my stepdad and brother, because honestly, almost none of us care about eating turkey on Thanksgiving! I’d love to go without it and adopt a turkey instead from a sanctuary, but tradition being what it is, I’ll just have to settle for not eating it. :)
Since I love to include holidays in my books, I’ve written several Christmas novels, but did you know I also wrote Thanksgiving into a few as well? While it’s not an inherently “romantic” holiday, it is a great opportunity to get together with family, especially in a budding romance where the heroine and hero are just getting to know each other…
A Bad Boy for Christmas
Even though Christmas is in the title, but it features one whopper of a family get-together when Faith visits "Wishbone Attic" where she must tell Connor’s sisters the truth or face the consequences...
Dixie’s eyes popped wide. She’d decided on a question. “Has Connor spent the night at your house and/or have you spent the night at his house?”
Oh no, the one question she had to answer honestly would make them sound like they had done way more together than they had. She bit her lip, deciding how much to say. “Interestingly enough, he has spent a few nights at my house, and I have spent one night at his.” She held up a finger when Dixie’s eyebrows crawled up her forehead. “But we have not had sex.”
“You got a bonus answer anyway,” Kendra pointed out.
“Maybe I should reiterate you have to tell the truth in this place,” Dixie said, gesturing around the dimly lit space. “We do not take kindly to liars around here, Faith Garrett.” She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “If that is your real name…”
“It’s the truth.” Briefly, she filled in his sisters about how long she and Connor had known each other, about her ex-fiancé trying to break into her apartment, about Connor’s insistence to stay at her house, about her holing up at his apartment for a night while he ran a mysterious Friday errand.
“That sounds like him,” Kendra remarked. “So protective.”
“He likes you,” Dixie stated in the same sure tone she used with everyone—like Connor liking Faith was the simplest, most obvious of truths.
Kendra held up her hand. “My turn.”
Faith counted off, broke the plastic bone, thrilled when she ended up with the bigger half.
“Oh boy, I bet I can guess what’s coming.” Kendra smirked, but didn’t seem the least bit upset by ratting out her brother. “Ask me anything; Connor is an open book.”
Dixie’s cackle suggested this might only be true in Wishbone Attic.
Now for Faith’s question. Did she want to know more about Maya? Or about where Connor disappeared to on Friday nights?
Since Connor promised to tell her about Maya in his own time, she went with, “Where does Connor go on Fridays? I know he has some sort of mission, an appointment he will not miss.”
Dixie went uncharacteristically quiet. Kendra pressed her lips together as if deciding how much to say.
“You have to tell the truth,” Faith reminded gently.
“Easy answer, but not a very easy explanation.” Dixie tipped her chin. “Might want to refill your glass.”
A Snowbound Scandal
A Snowbound Scandal reunites summer lovers in this forced proximity novel when Mayor Chase opens his front door to find his ex-summer-fling carrying in pie and a full Thanksgiving dinner for him. She intends on leaving but her car is almost on E and the snow just isn't stopping...
She climbed the steep, snowy hill, her tires sliding enough that her heart hammered against her throat. Thankfully, the driveway evened out at the gate so she didn’t slide backwards in the snow. She pressed a button on a callbox to request to be let in. A camera lens attached to the device stared at her from its unblinking mechanical eye. Miriam grabbed the container of sweet potato pie from the passenger seat.
While she waited, snow covered her windshield and drifted inside. He might not be here, she thought miserably. Or maybe he’d been caught in the storm while gathering supplies and was holed up in a hotel somewhere—
“Mimi.” Chase’s low timbre sailed out of the speaker, at once surprised and scolding.
“Hi.” She waggled the container. “Pie delivery. I won’t stay long.” There was a significant pause, but no response. She swore she could feel his laser-like glare through the camera. A buzz sounded as the iron gates swung aside through the gathering snow.
The white stuff on the driveway was untouched by tires or boot prints. After debating leaving her truck running, she shut if off to save fuel and climbed out. The walkway to the front door had been shoveled at some point, but since then a few inches of snow had filled in the gaps.
She shuddered as icy wind sliced through her hair, the temperature colder coming off the frigid lake below. A porch light snapped on and Chase appeared outside wearing a sweater and jeans and sneakers that didn’t appear weather resistant.
“Running shoes in this weather. Are you crazy?” She pulled three containers filled with his dinner and dessert from the passenger seat and then shut the door.
“You’re calling me crazy. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I told you I won’t be long.” She shoved the pie container into his hand and his scowl deepened. Her teeth chattered, partially from nerves. This was the moment she’d been waiting for—to set Chase Ferguson straight. On her terms. She glanced around at the pale moonlit mounds of snow. Okay, not exactly her terms, but it was too late to back out now.
“Get inside,” he commanded, his breath visible in the cold. Out of habit she locked her truck and it beeped briefly, letting her know. Chase glared over her shoulder at the sound, but she refused to let him scare her off from what she came here to say. She was going to set him straight, then turn this big bastard around and drive straight home.
Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.
She’d really miss playing games with her family tonight. A dart of regret shocked her ribcage. And then a dart of something else when Chase cupped her elbow and started toward the house.
“Watch your step,” his low voice rumbled as he gestured to the nearly invisible porch steps. “You’d better have a good reason for being here other than bringing me pie.”
Oh, no worries, Mayor McCheese. I have one…